At First Bite Read Free Page A

into the room, kneeling down to unzip my duffel bag. When I start my new school tomorrow, I will have the world’s best tan.
    Ten minutes later, with Mom’s permission, I am flip-flopping across the sand in my pink bikini, a towel tucked under one arm. The beach is crowded, which is no surprise. It’s a Sunday, and according to Dylan (and the weather app on his iPhone), unseasonably warm for mid-January. People are dozing in loungers or playing volleyball
    When I find an empty spot, I spread out my towel, lie down, and breathe in the salty air.
    Ahh.
    This is heaven. It’s been about eight hours since I left cold, slushy New York, but it feels like a lifetime ago.
Maybe,
I think recklessly as I stretch my arms over my head,
I won’t even
be
a vampire here anymore. Maybe everything that happened in New York was like a bad dream.
    After all, who can dwell on things like bats and blood when the sun is this strong and seagulls are cawing overhead? I’m not even craving the Sanga! that’s stashed in one of my suitcases back at the house.
    Not really, anyway.
    I take my cell phone out of my bag and text Eve and Mallory:
    Arrived in LA. Lying on the beach. JEALOUS ?
    Grinning, I hit SEND and stretch out again, the sun beating down on me. Maybe it’ll warm my skin enough so that when people touch me, they won’t think I’m freezing. Still, I wonder if I should put on more sunblock. I slathered on a little SPF 15 back at the house.
In a minute,
I think, digging my toes into the sand.
I’ll just rest and —
    “Excuse me?”
    A boy’s voice breaks into my dreamy thoughts.
    Annoyed, I blink a few times. A boy about my age is standing by my towel, wearing board shorts, a baseball cap, and a T-shirt that says S.M.A. BEARS. He’s kind of cute, with curly brown hair, caramel-colored skin, and big brown eyes. I’m surprised I didn’t hear him approach, but maybe, happily, my vampirehearing isn’t so sharp anymore.
    “Yes?” I ask, sitting up and smiling. Wouldn’t Eve and Mallory
really
be jealous if they knew I’d already found a possible crush?
    “Well,” the boy says shyly, shuffling his feet. “I don’t mean to bother you, but, um … it looks like you’ve got a really bad burn.”
    “What are you talking about?” I snap, annoyed again. I glance down at my arms. They do look sort of red, but that’s because I’ve got on my pink-tinted sunglasses.
    I bristle. Who does this boy think he is? In New York, people know better than to bug random strangers out of nowhere.
    “Maybe you should go to the lifeguard station,” the boy is saying, not noticing my glare. “They have some special ointment if you want —”
    “No, I don’t
want
anything,” I interrupt. “Leave me alone.” This boy has
no
idea who he’s messing with.
    His face falls and he shrugs. “Okay, okay,” he says, taking a few steps back. “Sorry about that.”
    “You’d better be,” I mutter, watching him walk off down the beach. In a huff, I reach for my tote bag, ready to move to a different spot. But as soon as my hands make contact with the bag’s handle, an intense pain shoots up from my palms.
    “Ouch!”
I cry. Confused, I whip off my sunglasses and stare down in horror at my hands, which are bright red. As are my arms … my gaze travels down … and my legs … my heart is thudding. I jump to my feet, which look like twin lobsters.
    The boy was right. I have an awful sunburn. But how? I haven’t been out here that long! I wonder if other people are noticing how burned-to-a-crisp I am. Panicked, I glance around. I have to get back to the house immediately.
    I grab my tote bag and towel —
ouch!
— shove on my flip-flops, and start running across the sand. Suddenly, I’m dying for a Sanga!. I snuck one in New York this morning, but I shouldn’t have gone this long without another. My throat is dry and my stomach is growling and I really, really hope I won’t start to bat-shift. I feel like I’m about to collapse as I