Read Once in a Full Moon Page 7


  “I want to talk about werewolves,” I said when I found him reading a magazine in the lobby at Pine Tree Village later that day. “I’m doing a paper on folklore and thought you’d be the perfect person to interview.”

  He paused, taking an extra moment to examine me. Then he closed his magazine.

  “It’s me, Celeste,” I said, confused at his expression.

  “I know who you are . . .” he said cheekily. “But you seem different. . . .”

  “What do you mean?”

  “There’s an extra twinkle in your eye.”

  I blushed. Could he see I’d been obsessed about Brandon?

  “I’m not sure what you mean,” I said.

  “Are you sure there isn’t anything new? Did you do something different to your hair?”

  “Same old me,” I said. I felt funny about girl talking and gushing about a guy I couldn’t get out of my mind to an eighty-nine-year-old man.

  “I’ll get it out of you eventually,” he said. “Something about you . . . but I can’t put my finger on it. I haven’t been around for all these years without seeing things.”

  “Well, that is what I want to talk to you about.”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m doing a paper on werewolf folklore and was hoping you could tell me more about the Legend’s Run werewolf.”

  Mr. Worthington perked up.

  “Please, come sit down.”

  I sat on the sofa next to him. I pulled out my notebook and opened it on my lap. “I read that a person could become a werewolf if they wear a pelt or skin from a wolf,” I said, “or if they’re bitten by a werewolf. And of course one of the cures is a silver bullet.”

  “Go on,” he said.

  “And some can shape-shift.”

  “Yes.”

  “But that’s all basic stuff. I want to know—what do you know about the Legend’s Run werewolf?”

  “What do I know?” he said with a mischievous laugh.

  “Yes. Anything you can tell me would be great.”

  “Well, let’s see,” Mr. Worthington began. “He was first spotted in the last century, soon after the town was founded. But his transformation didn’t come from a werewolf bite or a pelt of skin worn around his human body. It came from the bite of a wolf.”

  “Wow . . .” I said.

  “He was a regular man—in fact, a good man—one of the early settlers who were helping build the community. A loved and respected man.” Mr. Worthington recited his tale as if it were fact. “He was building a house when a pack of rabid wolves stole the basket his child was resting in. The man fought for his son’s life. In the struggle, the man was left bloody and fighting for his life. The following full moon, the man was missing from his home. It was very unusual, as he was always protective of his family and community.”

  “Did they find him?”

  “No one knew where he was. But then bad things began to happen in the town. Animals suddenly went missing and people feared the dark. A frightening creature, half man, half wolf, was spotted prowling in the woods, and townspeople heard howling throughout the night.”

  I hung on to his every word. “Creepy.”

  “But the terror didn’t happen just once a month. The moon can appear full for several evenings. And during that time, no one is safe when there is a werewolf among us.”

  “Wow—you know more than Nash did. This is great.”

  “I was just at the beginning.”

  “The beginning? What happened to the man?”

  Nurse Bridget interrupted our conversation.

  “Hi, Celeste, I didn’t know you were scheduled today.”

  “Uh . . . I wasn’t. I just came over to interview Mr. Worthington for a paper I’m working on for school.”

  “Well, I’m afraid it’s time for Charlie’s physical therapy. I hope it isn’t something due tomorrow.”

  “It’s not due till the next full moon,” I said to Mr. Worthington with a wink.

  * * *

  I’d been so enthralled with Mr. Worthington’s story, I didn’t even write anything down in my notebook. I transcribed all my memories into my computer when I arrived home. If Mr. Worthington was only at the beginning of his story, what more did he know?

  As I finished editing my interview, I remembered Dr. Meadows’s prediction. If we hadn’t gone to Penny for Your Thoughts in the first place, then I wouldn’t have gotten lost in the woods and Brandon wouldn’t have been bitten. Was her reading correct? The idea that Dr. Meadows predicted exactly what happened plagued my mind. But then again, I convinced myself that any person could have said those things, psychic or not. Maybe she had heard the weather forecast. Maybe she knew that wolves were inhabiting the Westside woods. Or any client could interpret events to match their psychic’s words.

  But, if in fact she had truthfully warned me, was I the one to blame for Brandon’s injury? If only I’d not been so skeptical and listened to her, he wouldn’t have put himself in harm’s way and have gotten hurt.

  Either way, I felt guilty for putting him in a position that led to his getting wounded.

  And what did Dr. Meadows mean by Beware of a kiss under the full moon. It can change your life forever. Perhaps she was talking about the paper I was currently writing? Maybe writing this paper would change me. And did she mean kisses I might receive from Nash or wanted to receive from Brandon? For some reason, or many (getting to know more about Mr. Worthington and investigating the paranormal), I felt it already had.

  I shut down my computer. I was so excited the weekend was over and school was going to be in session tomorrow. As I lay in bed, I jotted the memories down in my notebook as I replayed them in my head: Brandon suddenly appearing out of the snow, like a firefighter coming out of the flames, his royal blue eyes melting me and the snow and ice around us, our hands touching as if we’d never let go.

  I closed my notebook and held it to my heart as I fell asleep.

  Chapter Ten

  Athletes and Apologies

  When I arrived in English class I spotted a shiny object lying on my desk. As I drew closer, I realized it was my cell phone.

  “Someone found it!” Ivy said, discovering it, too.

  Brandon wasn’t in class, but his backpack was leaning against his desk.

  Just then Brandon sauntered into class. He was wearing an NHL jersey over an oatmeal-colored thermal and black fingerless gloves. I thought it was quite a cool look, but I knew the gloves were to cover up the horrible mauling he’d received a few days before. I felt such sympathy for him and the wound he’d incurred, but I also felt electrified by his presence. An immediate buzzing tingled all over my skin. Before I knew it, I was oversmiling and hypertalking to Ivy as if I were onstage performing for an audience. I didn’t even know why I was doing it, but I couldn’t help myself.

  I didn’t dare make contact—eye, verbal, or any other kind. Brandon must have felt the same. In my peripheral vision, I saw him take his seat. I was dying to see if he noticed me.

  Instead, I held the cell phone in my hand. I imagined where it had been. In his coat pocket? Maybe at his home by his bed. At some point, he had held it in his hand, as I was doing now.

  I was such a love-struck girl and yet I couldn’t control my ridiculous feelings.

  Finally, I put the phone in my back pocket.

  “Not so fast,” Mrs. Clark said. It was against school rules to have a cell phone in class. And though I was a good student, Mrs. Clark wasn’t about to bend the rules for me. “I’ll return it to you after class.”

  Abby whispered to Ivy. Then Ivy whispered to me. “Brandon is wearing fingerless gloves.”

  “So?” I said.

  “Don’t you think it’s odd?”

  “No. It is cold out,” I defended.

  “Maybe he got a tat,” Abby said.

  “On his hand?” I asked.

  “On his knuckles,” Abby corrected.

  “Yes, that’s big with the juvies,” Ivy said.

&nbs
p; “There is no evidence he’s a juvie,” I said. “You both watch too much TV.”

  “He’s just not like us,” Abby said. “It’s like he doesn’t want to fit in with the rest of us—or even try to.”

  “Why should he?” I asked. “It’s not like anyone is overly friendly toward him.”

  “I think he’s trying to hide something,” Ivy theorized. “He doesn’t make eye contact, he sits alone, and now he’s all about coats and gloves in class.”

  “Yes . . . I’m sure that’s it,” I said. “Has to be hiding something, otherwise it’s not worth discussing.”

  “You are so right,” Ivy said with a smile.

  “What could it be?” Abby asked.

  I was the only one who knew what Brandon was hiding. And I wasn’t about to tell.

  By lunchtime, Jake and Dylan were showing signs of strain, trailing Ivy and Abby and holding their girlfriends’ trays, backpacks, and purses. The students laughed as they passed by, and so did I. They were doing their best to live up to “servants for a day.”

  Nash grabbed a burger from the line and passed Brandon.

  “Hey, dude—what’s with the gloves?” Nash said. “We are inside, you know.”

  Brandon paused. I wasn’t sure what he was going to say. I’m hiding a wound I received while saving your girlfriend’s life? Didn’t she already tell you?

  But he didn’t answer.

  “Wolf got your tongue?” Nash challenged.

  “Don’t be rude!” I said to Nash.

  “I was just wondering, is that the new fashion in Riverside?” Nash asked.

  Abby, Ivy, Dylan, and Jake remained at Nash’s side. Brandon was alone.

  “You can tell me,” Nash said.

  Brandon remained silent.

  “Or maybe you’re trying to hide something,” Nash taunted.

  I pulled Nash away.

  “Sorry. He got an A in football but an F in manners,” I said to Brandon. I continued to lead Nash back to our usual table.

  We sat down and Jake and Dylan began cutting my friends’ salads.

  “You aren’t going to feed them, too, are you?” Nash asked.

  “I hadn’t thought of that,” Abby said with a laugh.

  “So what did you have Nash do as your servant?” Ivy asked.

  “So far, nothing.” He grinned triumphantly. “And the day is half over.”

  “Nothing?” Dylan asked, outraged.

  I’d thought about it all day. What would I make Nash do? I could carry my own purse and backpack. I guess the point was to humiliate them and be able to order them around like we couldn’t normally. Nash wasn’t used to taking orders, and I wasn’t used to giving them. I was the kind that let my opponent win a board game for fear they might feel bad if they lost.

  “You have to make him do something,” Jake urged.

  “Yes, and it better be good,” Dylan threatened.

  “Okay. Okay,” I finally said.

  My friends waited for my command. Nash tensed up, sure I was going to order him to run naked through the cafeteria. I wasn’t sure, however, if he’d object to such a stunt.

  “I told you I want you to have a party,” I said.

  “That’s it?” Nash replied happily. “I always have parties. No big deal.”

  “That’s not all,” I said. “I haven’t provided you with the guest list.”

  “Oh. Is it boys only?” Jake asked. “You getting to hang out with the entire basketball team?”

  “No, maybe it’s only Nash,” Dylan said.

  “That’s not much of a party,” Jake said.

  “Yeah?” Nash finally said.

  “You’ll invite the usual crowd. Plus one special guest.”

  “Who’s that?” he asked.

  “You were just talking to him,” I said. “Brandon. The guy with fingerless gloves.”

  “Are you kidding?” Nash asked, slapping the table.

  “That’s not it,” I said. “I want you to march over there and apologize to him for your behavior. And then, invite him to your party.”

  “You want me to kiss him, too?”

  “Now, that’s a good idea!” Dylan said.

  I was beaming. Even my best friends were thrilled.

  “Wow—we had it easy,” Jake said. “You have to apologize to a Westsider in front of the whole school.”

  “Apologize for what?” Nash was fuming.

  “Hey, man, we lived up to our bargain,” Dylan said. “Now it’s your turn.”

  “I don’t want that jerk running around my house,” Nash said. “What if he steals something?”

  “What if he doesn’t?” I replied.

  “You’re kidding me, right?” he said.

  I shook my head. My friends grinned.

  We watched as Nash rose and headed over to Brandon. As Nash got close to Brandon’s table, the other students, one by one, became aware of the unusual occurrence and watched with awe.

  When Nash reached Brandon’s table, Brandon appeared skeptical.

  The whole lunchroom was prepared for a fight.

  “Hey, dude—” Nash began. “I’m . . . uh . . .” He cleared his throat. “About the glove comment . . .”

  Brandon rose.

  Nash looked back at me. I nodded.

  Then he turned to Brandon. “I’m sorry.”

  Brandon was as surprised as the rest of the lunchroom. The staff even breathed sighs of relief, knowing that they wouldn’t have to break up a fight.

  “No problem,” Brandon finally said.

  “And I’m having a party this weekend,” Nash continued painfully. “You can bring some friends.”

  “Uh . . . Okay—”

  Nash pulled a face as he walked over to us.

  Brandon gazed at me, and I couldn’t help but smile in return.

  I sat at my computer and attempted to work on my essay on folklore and distract myself from my Brandon Maddox obsession. The bite of a wolf. The full moon. A howl on a dark and dreary night. Everything wolf-related only reminded me of him more.

  As if that wasn’t enough, I’d been clinging to my cell phone, the very same one he possessed. I’d never felt this guy-crazy before.

  “Why don’t you put that down?” my mom said that evening at dinner. I had my fork in one hand and my phone in the other.

  “I’m afraid I may lose it,” I said.

  “I think you might be a little overprotective of it. I’m glad you found it, but it’s not necessary to hold it twenty-four/seven,” my mom said.

  I tried my best to eat, but my stomach was in knots. Ever since we’d gone to Penny for Your Thoughts, I felt like my life was out of control. First the wolves in the snowstorm, Brandon Maddox rescuing me, his wound, and now my ridiculous obsession with him. I couldn’t help but blame Dr. Meadows and her strange fortune for getting me into this situation in the first place. What exactly had she said? Beware of the woods . . . of the sounds of howling. There could be outsiders who will turn . . . underneath the glow of the full moon. And then, when she’d grabbed me on the way out the door, she’d added, Beware of a kiss under the full moon. It will change your life forever.

  The snow. The woods. Howling. A full moon. Could she have really seen the strange events before they unfolded? Maybe not. It was November, so it wasn’t that unforeseen that it might snow. Legend’s Run had a wolf population, so seeing one wouldn’t be as shocking as coming upon a zebra. And the moon? It was full twelve times a year. But a kiss? Brandon Maddox was the outsider, but I could only dream of kissing him. What did that part of the prediction mean?

  I imagined the party Nash was going to host. This time, since he’d lost the dare, he’d have to be as kind to his Riverside guests as he was to his own players on the field. This could be a big step for Nash, opening his home to someone outside his comfort zone. Nash usually only thought about himself. Maybe this would be an opportunity for him to expand his tightly knit social circle. An opportunity for him to grow. If Nash could get along with Br
andon, maybe at last the Westside and Eastside could be Oneside.

  Chapter Eleven

  Dare to Party

  A few days later, the fire alarm rang during U.S. History class. I loved a good fire drill—it disrupted class for the time being, gave us a chance for some fresh air, and allowed Ivy, Abby, and me the freedom to gossip.

  The only problem was when the high school performed the drills in a season with plummeting temperatures. It was always on a day when I chose not to drag my coat with me all day and kept it in my locker. The guys didn’t seem bothered by not wearing their coats, but I was freezing. Our class lined up outside where the asphalt met the grass. Nash, Dylan, and Jake used the opportunity to throw snowballs.

  “Here, you’re shivering.” Brandon was holding out his coat to me.

  I was taken aback at his kind gesture. Nash hadn’t even offered to stand next to me. I think I was too cold to answer.

  I wanted so badly to be wrapped in Brandon’s coat, but I knew if I took it, my friends would freak out—especially Nash. But what my friends and Nash didn’t know was that I wanted to use Brandon’s coat—not because I was cold, but because it was his coat. It was close to his skin and cloaked him all day long. I knew it would smell good, too—like fabric softener or irresistible cologne or smoke from a fireplace. I wanted to wear it now, wear it all day, wear it forever. It would be the closest I’d be able to get to him again, since our time together in the woods when he saved my life.

  Ivy shot me a dirty look. She was protective of me and must have thought Brandon was hitting on me. I could only hope.

  Abby yanked my sleeve toward her and the three of us girls huddled together.

  “I’ll take it,” Hayley Phillips, a skater from Riverside, said. She was wearing fingerless gloves, a knit hat, and a long-sleeved thermal henley. She put on Brandon’s coat. It swallowed her up like an oversized blanket.

  I envied her. At that moment I would have given anything to have been in her skateboarding shoes.

  School was closed for the next few days for the Thanksgiving holiday. Since I couldn’t see Brandon at school, I was looking forward to Nash’s party in the hope that he might show up. Nash lived in the same subdivision as Ivy and Abby. The homes were estates and had as many bathrooms as bedrooms. I spent hours trying to find the perfect outfit. I realized I was dressing up as much for a possible Brandon sighting as I was for Nash.