“No.”
It was that simple. My sister didn’t believe in werewolves. And even though I thought I might have seen one, I didn’t believe in them either. At the end of the day, we had that much in common.
Chapter Sixteen
Moonlit Stroll
I was buzzing when I returned to school after winter break. Hoping to get to English early, I raced to my locker, where I found a single pink rose sticking through the metal handle.
I was so truly touched, I tingled all over.
“Isn’t that sweet?” Ivy said. “Nash is saying he’s sorry.”
“Nash?” I asked, bewildered.
It hadn’t occurred to me that it was from Nash.
“Uh . . . yes, it is, I guess.” I was grateful to receive a flower from anyone—but I was disappointed that it wasn’t from Brandon.
“You guess?” she asked. “He’s apologizing. Maybe you should accept it already.”
I held the rose in my hand and leaned against the locker.
It would be so easy and I knew I should consider myself lucky to go out with Nash. He was gorgeous by anyone’s standards, and a gifted athlete. It would be so simple for the “six clique” to hang out together. But something happened to me when I saw Brandon that day in English class and our eyes met. The unbelievable heroism that he displayed in the woods was hard to dismiss. And even more so was the most passionate kiss of my life. My life had been pretty easy—or rather ordinary. Go to school, study, hang with my friends, volunteer. Now I was putting everything on the line for a guy who I barely knew—who might indeed have some kind of paranormal powers. But I felt this misunderstood new student filled in so many places that had been empty in my heart.
“Nash could date any cheerleader he wants,” Ivy said. “But he likes you because you aren’t that typical girl. It’s you he keeps coming back to.”
“Well, now I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.”
“I don’t want to hear it,” Ivy said. She liked the status quo—everything as it should be—Abby and Dylan, Ivy and Jake, and Nash and me. Six best friends who would hang out together, go to the same colleges, and eventually get married.
I didn’t want to be the one who broke up my best friend’s plans. But I wasn’t sure if Ivy’s dream should come at the expense of my happiness.
After school, I was heading toward the parking lot to meet Ivy, my rose poking out of my backpack.
“Hey, what’s up?” Nash asked, catching up to me by the flagpole. He looked handsome and tanned from his holiday break at the beach.
I could see Brandon in the distance, opening his Jeep door. He paused.
“Thanks for the flower,” I said. “It was really sweet of you.”
“The flower?”
“Yes, the one sticking out of my locker.” I took it out of my backpack and showed him.
“Oh, yeah, that one,” he said. “I have so much on my mind lately. Jet lag and all.”
I was slightly heartbroken. I was really hoping it was from Brandon.
“Aren’t you going to thank me for it?” he asked.
Now I paused. Brandon was watching me. There was no way I was going to kiss Nash, even for the kind gesture of a flower. I should still be miffed at him for his behavior at the party—having Heidi Rosen’s legs on his—but I wasn’t. I didn’t want to kiss him because I wanted to kiss Brandon instead.
I gave Nash a quick hug, but he held on longer than I wanted or expected.
“I was hoping for more,” he said, stroking my hair.
“Maybe later,” I said, breaking away.
“So, now we’re back together?”
I heard a car door slam in the distance. The Jeep tore out of the parking lot.
“Not yet,” I said, and headed off to join Ivy and Abby, who were just exiting the gymnasium.
When I got home, I headed into Juliette’s room. Rolling suitcases, totes, and duffel bags, all busting at the seams, were scattered on the floor. She was digging in her closet, making last-minute grabs at shoes and clothes for her return to college.
“Here, you can have this,” I said flatly, placing the flower on top of her suitcase.
I headed to my room as a beep sounded from my phone.
It was a text from Brandon.
You thanked the wrong guy, was all it said.
I raced back to Juliette’s and grabbed the flower.
“I thought that was for me—” she said, confused.
It was from Brandon after all. I danced around my room until I was so dizzy I collapsed onto my bed. I clutched the flower to my chest and held it as if it were him.
“You’re crazy!” I heard my sister call. “No wonder you don’t have a normal love life!”
I raced over to Brandon’s as fast as I could while still maintaining the speed limit and avoiding darting animals crossing the road. I wasn’t sure if Brandon was home or not and didn’t want to text or call. I just wanted to see him. Besides, the moon was waning and would not be full for a couple of weeks. If he was a werewolf, we both were safe.
I drove past the Maddoxes’ frozen pond and toward his place. Brandon was shoveling snow outside the guesthouse when he saw my car approaching.
He looked pleasantly surprised to see me, but reluctant, too. I could tell he wasn’t sure how I’d react to him since we hadn’t seen each other since our encounter underneath the school’s staircase.
“Thank you for the flower,” I said, meeting him by the fence. “I wasn’t sure it was from you.”
“Seems you were thanking the wrong guy.”
“I know,” I said, feeling stupid. “I thought it was from—”
“I should have left you a note. I just thought if it got in the wrong hands, your friends might freak out.”
I hated that Brandon knew my predicament. If they were real friends, one could say, it wouldn’t matter to them who I dated—just as long as I was happy. But my friends wanted us to be cozy in our perfect sixsome—three best girlfriends dating three best boyfriends.
I lingered by the fence near Brandon. It was as if he, too, longed for us to be together but, like me, was acting cautiously.
He leaned over and said, “I didn’t know how you’d react to getting a flower from a werewolf.”
“I’m so sorry I called you that,” I said. “I didn’t mean—”
“That night—it was strange,” he admitted. “I still don’t know what to make of it.”
“You still don’t remember?”
“I remember the way the moonlight lit your face and eyes. I can’t get it out of my mind.”
My cheeks flushed red. “And after? You remember now?”
He shook his head. “I know something happened. It changed me. Although I’m not sure how or why, I know it did.” Then he leaned on the fence, his hair falling over his eyes. “I wanted you to know that I was thinking of you. I’ve just been trying to figure some things out.”
“I understand,” I said.
“You do?”
“Something extraordinary did happen that night. We both felt it.”
I could sense his sudden relief with my reassurance.
“Have you told anyone about that night?” he asked, concerned that I’d spread what I told him around school.
I’d told Juliette vaguely, but not the real details and who the juicy kiss was with. “You don’t have to worry about that,” I said. “No one knows.”
“Well, I’m glad you are here, now,” he said. He took my hand. “I was hoping I could take you on a proper date sometime.”
I nodded enthusiastically. “I’d like that.”
Dates with Nash were always set around his sporting events. I was eager to find out what Brandon’s idea for an evening out might be. Although, Brandon was so charming that as long as I was with him, I didn’t care where we were.
“Are you cold?” he finally asked. “We can go inside—”
“No, it’s not too bad.” I liked being with Brandon. I admired him for k
nowing so much about the wilderness. I wanted to share it all with him—the snow, the bare trees, the cold, crisp air.
“You like the outdoors?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Back in Miller’s Glen my friends liked to hang inside and party. Like the Eastsiders here.”
“You mean you were on the Eastside?”
“Every town has their Northside or Southside . . . east or west. Every side thinks they are better than the other. It’s all a waste of time.”
“So you mean you were on the popular side in Miller’s Glen but not here?”
“Funny, isn’t it? No one here would know. I’m just a Westsider to them. That’s why you are so cool,” he said.
“I bet you miss your friends,” I said.
“I do. But they weren’t really into outdoor stuff. That’s why I like it here so much. We have so much land and so much to do.”
“You like it here?”
“Yes. My grandparents are really awesome. They’re funny and sweet. My grandma is always stuffing me with food. I get this cool bachelor pad guesthouse and this backyard and a pond where I can practice hockey.”
“Is that different from your house in Miller’s Glen?”
“Totally. I lived in the suburbs. We had a backyard, but not like this. It had a grill and a few patio chairs. Nothing unusual.”
“What about school?” I hinted. “I bet it’s hard to transfer to a new one, especially after it already began.”
“I don’t think about it much. I like certain classes,” he said. “The ones I have with you.”
I could hang out with Brandon forever, but I longed to touch, hold, or kiss him. It had been torture this last month and I couldn’t stand it anymore.
It was then he took my hand. I sighed inside. We walked around his property holding hands.
“That night, something strange did happen,” he said. “I haven’t felt the same since.”
“Neither have I.”
“I’ve never met anyone like you.”
“Me, too.”
“But since that night, I haven’t slept well.”
“How did you feel during winter break?” I asked, trying to pull more info from him.
“I dream a lot. During the day I feel great, but I’m ravenous. My grandmother says she can’t keep up with my meals for lunch and dinner. She has to go to the grocery almost every day.”
“What did you dream about?”
“Just stuff. The woods,” he said. “I think it’s because I’m sleeping out here in the guesthouse. Noises in the night must be infiltrating my subconscious.”
Brandon was obviously tormented by what he was going through. He fingered his hair and stared off into the hilltop.
“I’m so sorry—I want to help you.”
“Don’t worry,” he said. “After that night I felt weird for a few days. Bizarre dreams and waking up without my shirt and covered in dirt. I think it was just a fever. Since then, I just have weird dreams and the events of the night are fuzzy, but when I wake up I feel okay, and I’m fully clothed.”
He obviously could see the concern on my face. “I feel much better, now that you are here.”
The sun was setting behind the trees.
But I was distracted. The moon was crescent-shaped, framed by puffy clouds. If Brandon was indeed affected by the wolf’s bite, and Mr. Worthington’s story about the full moon was real, then we were safe from the crescent moon’s glow. For now.
“What are you looking at?” he asked.
“The moon.”
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it? I like it when there is that spooky glow around it. But I’d rather be looking at something else right now.”
Brandon moved close to me, so close, it took my breath away. He pulled me into him. We were standing face-to-face, our fingers entwined. He leaned into me and kissed me with such desire and intensity I thought I was dreaming.
But like all good dreams, it had to come to an end, because the next thought in my head was that our romance would have to stay a secret. And I’d have to find out if what I’d seen after our first kiss under the full moon meant that Brandon Maddox was, in fact, a werewolf.
Chapter Seventeen
So Many Secrets
For as long as I could remember, I hadn’t kept anything a secret from Ivy. Half the time it was because she squeezed information out of me, the other half because I blurted it out in excitement. Now I had been keeping several major events under wraps for quite some time. Besides discreetly seeing Brandon, I’d managed to keep three classified secrets: one, that Brandon Maddox had rescued me from the wolves; two, that I was in love with him; and three, the Westsider I was in love with might possibly be a werewolf.
The secrets burned inside me. If I told Ivy about Brandon, she’d be upset that I was in love with anyone other than Nash. And if I told her he might be a werewolf, she’d clearly think it was a prank. She’d be in as much disbelief as I had been and, like me, would want proof. Finally, the news of a teen werewolf would spread through the town faster than a flood. Brandon’s existence would ultimately be at stake. Before I told anyone anything, I needed to know for sure what was happening with Brandon—if his dreams and what I thought I’d seen meant that he was, indeed, a werewolf.
My calendar and my notebook became my best tools. As the days passed by, I logged all possible lycanthropic events—the three nights when the moon appeared full, Brandon woke up shirtless and covered in dirt. Brandon dreamed a lot during waning and waxing moons. He was ravenous during the day. And I noted the shapes of the moon and circled the date of the next full moon, which was several weeks away.
Brandon continued to be a loner at school—keeping to himself in the cafeteria while my friends and I gathered at the popular table. I was completely torn up about it. I wanted to go over and sit by his side. Every other table was crowded with friends and cliques. I’d be the only one to break out of the pattern that had gone on for years in Legend’s Run. Most important, I would lose my best friends if I chose the Westside over the East. Plus, I worried that Brandon could change his mind about me at any moment. He clearly had some strange things going on in his life. But I couldn’t get his kisses out of my mind, and of course, his saving me that day in the snow created a special bond between us.
Regardless, I watched Ivy and Abby chat and cuddle with their boyfriends as day after day I’d stare at Brandon and watch him eat alone, all the while wanting to be sitting beside him.
“Why so glum?” Ivy asked one day at lunch.
“It’s nothing.”
“You miss Nash, don’t you?”
“Now that you mention it . . . I—”
“You do?” she said.
I don’t, I was going to say. “Why don’t we invite Brandon to sit at our table?” I asked Ivy. I gestured to the handsome guy, who was pulling several über-sandwiches from his bag. “He eats by himself every day since he moved here.”
“Are you kidding?” Abby asked. “He’s a pig. Look at him eating. He has three sandwiches. If you sat next to him, he might take a chunk out of you, too.” My friends laughed.
“I just thought it would be nice to include him,” I said.
“Maybe there’s a reason he doesn’t have friends,” Abby said, tapping my shoulder.
I sighed. I didn’t know how I’d ever be able to make my friends accept the boy I was secretly in love with.
Nash had been on his best behavior toward me. Though I resisted, he insisted on escorting me to my classes and on buying me lunch every day. I wasn’t used to all this attention from him. Nash was turning into the boyfriend he should have been all along. However, I kept him at bay. I never kissed him or in any way considered a rekindling of romance.
The odd thing was that the more aloof I became toward Nash, the more he tried to win me back. Nash was like a wolf in the wild—his territory was being invaded and he was here to reclaim it. If I had been doting on him like I had in the past, I was sure he’d probably i
gnore me the way he had when we were dating. Whether Nash knew it or not, he was feeling the effects of my admiration for Brandon.
But I suffered in silence. Brandon’s shirt was my only reminder of our night together and that kiss under the full moon. I imagined his turmoil dealing with a condition that he hadn’t asked for.
Brandon was elusive again, as he had been in those days and nights following the full moon about three weeks ago. He was often late for class and then snuck out before I could catch up to him. He might have been protecting me from himself, or maybe he was finally blaming me for causing his condition. I showed up at his house, and even walked around his hilltop. But my calls to him went unanswered.
One day in study hall I began to cut off the tips of my knit gloves and tried my fingerless gloves on.
“What are you doing?” Ivy asked.
“I thought it would be cool to wear them like this,” I said. “This way I can keep warm and use the computer or write my essay.”
“You do think of everything,” she said. “But I warn you, it does look a bit Riverside.”
That was exactly the look I was hoping for. My new fashion statement was the only way I could show Brandon my solidarity and let him know I still was thinking of him. I wanted to slip him notes in his locker, but it was too risky and I wasn’t that brave.
I’d caused his lycanthropic condition, and the amount of guilt I felt was enormous.
“Mr. Maddox, we’ll have to speak after class,” Mrs. Clark said one day in English when Brandon showed up a half hour late.
“I told you he was juvie,” Ivy whispered. “And to think we invited him to Nash’s house for the party.”
“We didn’t,” Abby said. “Mother Teresa did.”
“I know you are kind,” Ivy said, “but you have to be careful. You can’t bring in every stray cat you see. Some of them have fleas, you know.”
“Brandon isn’t like that,” I said.
“How do you know?” Ivy asked.
“Yes,” Abby pressed. “How do you know?”
“Look at him. He’s . . .” I began.