Death by Vanilla Latte

by Alex Erickson

  I tried to follow, but she was being so vague, I could only ask, “Mandy?”

  “Mandy Ortega. It’s her diet, I tell you. She eats all the wrong things and it’s impacted her immune system to the point that any bit of stress and she comes down sick. I knew when she was cast it was a bad idea.”

  A lightbulb went off in my head. “She’s in a play?”

  “Of course she is,” Rita said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “We have it every year, dear.” She stepped back and looked me up and down. “You know, you could probably fit into her costume.”

  This time, instead of a lightbulb, alarm bells were going off in my head. “No, I don’t think so.”

  But it was already too late. Rita was on a roll and there was nothing that would stop her. “She was an elf in our Christmas production,” she said, speaking right over me. “Not a big role, mind you. You wouldn’t have to learn many lines at all. And every time you do speak, it will be a group effort, so if you flub it, it won’t be that big of a deal.”

  “I really don’t think I . . .”

  “The costume should fit. Your diet doesn’t seem to be much better than Mandy’s, so there’s a risk there.”

  “Hey!”

  “There’s only two weeks until the show,” she went on, oblivious. “Practices have ramped up, so there is one every night, right up until show night. That shouldn’t be too much of an issue for you.”

  “Rita, I don’t know anything about acting in a play.”

  “If there was someone else, you can bet I’d ask them, but since there isn’t . . .” She shrugged as if saying it was out of her hands.

  “What about Vicki?” I asked, grabbing hold of her as she came down the stairs. “She’s done plays before. She’d know what to do.”

  Rita took one look at Vicki and laughed. “Weren’t you listening? We only have one spare costume. There’s no time to have another made and you’re the perfect size! She’d drown in Mandy’s getup.”

  I knew I should have taken it as an insult, especially since Rita weighed more than me, but I was too panicked to care.

  “But . . .”

  “You should do it, Krissy,” Vicki said. “It would be a great experience.”

  Gee, thanks, I thought. Betrayed by my best friend.

  “Practices start at six at the community theatre. I’ll let Lawrence know you’ll be coming.”

  And with that, she spun away, leaving me gaping after her.

  “It’ll be fun,” Vicki said before she too left me standing there, feeling as if I’d been bull-rushed.

  “Fun,” I said. Somehow, I seriously doubted it.