Once in a Full Moon (12 page)

I swooned inside from his compliment.

“Because what I saw wasn’t . . .” I trailed off.

“Wasn’t what?” he pressed. Then suddenly he was concerned. “Did I hurt you?”

“No—of course not.”

He sighed with relief. “Then don’t you see—I can’t remember. You have to tell me.”

“I know you’ll think I’m crazy—and you won’t want to hang out again.”

“But, Celeste, I want to see you. Again and again. Please tell me so tonight I won’t continue to have weird dreams. I can dream about you instead.”

I smiled. His words were like Cupid’s arrow shooting through my heart. But I was still reluctant. I might lose Brandon—no more texting, calls, passing glances, or amorous kisses. But as Brandon gazed at me now, so worried and confused, tormented by not knowing what happened, I was torn. If he felt I was keeping something secret from him, maybe I had more to lose by not telling him.

“I need to know why I didn’t have my shirt,” he insisted. “Why I was covered in dirt. Why I dreamed I was a . . .” But he didn’t finish.

I paused. Then I pulled him toward me so my lips were close to his ear.

“Because it looked like you turned into a werewolf.” It slipped out in a whisper.

His suddenly sad blue eyes blazed through me. I was waiting for him to laugh or chew me out for being crazy. But he didn’t do either.

The bell rang.

We lingered underneath the staircase, both shaken and confused. I didn’t want to go to lunch and be apart from Brandon any longer, especially now, when I’d just revealed something so bizarre to him. I was hoping he would kiss me, but our secret romantic moment was ruined. The tapping of boots and the squeaking of sneakers on the vinyl floor were approaching us.

Suddenly the students began exiting through the stairwell, and we were both forced to leave separately.

Chapter Fifteen
Sisterly Advice

W
inter break was usually one of my favorite times of the year. Not only did everyone in town decorate their houses with festive, twinkling lights and their yards with snowmen, penguins, and reindeer, but it meant two weeks of vacation. Free time to do whatever I wanted. And Ivy, Abby, and I had sleepovers, all-night gabfests, and endless laughs. I could sleep in as long as I’d like to and be my own boss.

But this year, winter break was torture. It meant two torturous weeks without seeing the guy who had stolen my heart. Practically every moment was spent thinking about him—him saving me, the first time I held his wounded hand in mine, the kiss of a lifetime. And when I wasn’t dreaming about him, I was worrying about him and the strange condition I found him in underneath the full moon. Instead of relishing my days of freedom, I longed for the ringing of first bell and the start of English class. But winter break crept along without him, monotonously.

I continued to wonder if what I saw that night was real and agonized over how I’d handled the situation. If I had to give advice to the lovelorn about what to say when seeing a guy again after sharing a spectacular kiss and hoping for another date, it would be to say one of these three things: “Had a blast,” “Hope we can hang out again,” or “Here’s my number.” The one thing I’d never advise saying would be, “It looked like you turned into a werewolf!”

How did I expect Brandon ever to call, text, or contact me when I’d told him that?

I was so confused about my feelings toward Brandon. Maybe it was time to turn back and not continue down this uncharted road I’d been traveling on. When Nash returned from vacation with his parents, it would be my chance to reconcile with him, put all this Westsider fascination to rest, and move on in the direction my life had already been taking. But I cared for Brandon so deeply, it just wasn’t something I had control over. And I assumed Brandon was mixed up as well. He was the one going through something—strange dreams, not remembering the nights, and missing school. If I contacted him, I’d only be adding to his already suddenly complicated life.

Having Juliette home during the break only added to my angst. She was in and out of our front door with different guys, laughing and giggling and staying out until the wee hours. All I wanted to do was see one guy, be near him, touch him, and kiss him. My skin hurt without Brandon’s touch, my mind raced with thoughts of him. I realized there was only one person I could turn to in my time of need, who knew more about love, romance, and hot guys than anyone I’d known—someone who might have the answers for my obsessive romantic feelings and how to cure them.

I knocked on my sister’s bedroom door. When she didn’t respond, I opened it to find her putting the final touches on her makeup.

“Don’t you knock? I could have been undressed,” she argued.

“But I did knock, and you aren’t undressed.”

“Well, I could have been.”

Juliette was so pretty she didn’t need to wear makeup. But still she spent endless hours in front of the mirror painting her face with whatever colors were in that particular season.

Juliette’s room was in stark contrast to my own. Mine was filled with books, DVDs, and trinkets. Where other teens had band or movie posters hanging on their walls, my sister had framed pictures of herself with her friends and various boyfriends.

“Jules, I need to ask you something,” I said, sitting on her bed. “How do you know if you are in love?” I asked, fiddling with the frame on her nightstand.

“You’ll know.”

I sighed. I didn’t want a vague answer that I could get from anyone. I wanted someone to speak to me about specifics.

“Why, are you in love with Nash?” she asked. “He is really hot.” Juliette turned away from her mirror and toward me. “Is he trying to pressure you?”

Nash always wanted more from our relationship than I was prepared to give. But that wasn’t it.

“No—it’s not
that
,” I said.

“Because if he is, I know some guys in my dorm who will make him wish he hadn’t.”

“No—”

“Don’t you do anything you’re not ready to do. You understand? That is the most important thing. Only when you are ready and only when you’re much older.”

Now she was lecturing me. But I didn’t mind. Almost. It was sweet that she cared about my well-being.

“He knows where he stands with me,” I said. “Anyway, I’m talking about love.”

“With someone else?”

I nodded.

“Does Nash know?”

“No, of course not. Besides, we aren’t seeing each other right now.”

“Great. What did he do now?”

“It’s no biggie.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Then let’s talk about the new guy! Have you gone out on a date?”

“No.”

“So, it’s a crush from afar?”

“Well. . . . not really . . .”

“Then what is it?” she asked impatiently.

“I met him at his house. We went ice-skating.”

“I’d call that a date.”

“You would?”

“Yes! Did he kiss you?” she asked.

“No. Not then . . .”

“You’ve kissed him?”

When I didn’t answer, she put down her makeup and hopped on the bed.

“You kissed him?”

“Accidentally,” I said. “I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

“That’s the best kind.”

“I mean I was waiting, like forever. But then it just happened!”

“I love it!” My sister high-fived me.

I couldn’t rein in my smile if I’d had Botox. I hadn’t told anyone, so it was good to finally girl-talk with someone. Even if it was my sister.

“What was it like?”

I was too embarrassed to talk about it.

“C’mon! Tell me.”

“It was heaven. Amazing. Like nothing I’ve ever felt in my life.”

She squealed with delight. Suddenly we were reduced to two giggling girls.

“So who is this dreamy guy who’s stolen my little sister’s heart?” she asked. “I want names and dates. What does he look like?”

I didn’t say anything.

“Describe!” she ordered, pointing her mascara brush at me.

“Brown wavy hair, royal blue eyes. His lips are full and dreamy. His stare can penetrate your soul.”

“Wow! Can you introduce him to
me
?”

“He’s in high school!”

“Does he have a brother?”

“I don’t know . . .”

“Does he have a name?” My sister was getting frustrated.

“I’m not giving you names.”

“Okay. Okay.”

“Uh, you wouldn’t know him. Besides, I’m not sure if it’s love or the flu,” I said.

“What are your symptoms?”

“Come on . . .”

“Symptoms!” she demanded.

“All right. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I can’t focus on school or even the most menial tasks. And I’m obsessed with thinking about him.”

“That’s love. Or at the very least lust. Something I prefer.”

I sighed. “Do you think these feelings could distort my view of him?”

“What do you mean?”

“Physically. Like the way he looks.”

“Of course. Some girls fall for the lamest guys but think they’re studs ’cause they are clouded by love.”

“But like . . . could these feelings make him look more muscular? Grow a goatee?”

“Guys can get stubble by the end of the day. That’s normal.”

I mean instantly
, I wanted to say.

“And make his hair appear longer and his eyes change color?” I asked hesitantly.

“If you mean going from blue eyes to twinkling liquid blue eyes, then yes, that can be because you’re love-struck. But if you’re talking about blue eyes changing to brown, then no.”

My smile turned into a frown. I grew worried.

“What are you getting at?” she asked.

“Oh . . . nothing.”

“Love can distort your view of him,” she said, patting my leg. She obviously didn’t know that I was alluding to him becoming a lycan, but I appreciated my sister’s reassurance.

“When did you first fall in love?” I asked. “Was it with Brad or Jason?”

“Are you kidding?” she asked with a laugh. “No,” she said as if I must have already known. “I’ve never been in love.”

I was floored. My sister had had a guy on her arm since kindergarten. How could she not have fallen in love by now? I felt sad that I may have actually experienced the feelings of true love before she had. With all the guys she dated, not one had penetrated her materialistic heart? Of course, we were still young and she had her whole life ahead of her, but I’d figured she’d been in love countless times. That just reinforced for me that I couldn’t ignore the feelings that I had for Brandon—that they were as real as the shirt I had sitting on my nightstand.

“Are we finished with our chat?” she asked, packing up her makeup.

“Almost. I’m doing a research paper on folklore. It’s about werewolves.”

“You would pick the creepy stuff. Why didn’t you pick fairies? I still have my paper somewhere. You could have used mine.”

“You know there’s a legend here about werewolves?” I asked.

“Yes, I’ve heard,” she said, as if I thought she was an alien.

“Do you think the legend is true?”

“Do I think there really are werewolves lurking in the woods of Legend’s Run, showing their scruffy faces under the full moon? Attacking animals and carrying off women, never to return? It does sound romantic in a weird way.”

“Yes, it does,” I said, thinking.

“We always imagine what we can’t understand. Like love.”

“But love can be real. So does that mean werewolves can be, too?”

“I’m sure people see things in the dark and then just put a face on it,” she surmised.

“But you’re not answering my question,” I said impatiently. “Do you believe in werewolves?”

“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 knowing 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.