Once in a Full Moon (18 page)

Chapter Twenty-six
Missing Pumpkin

M
eet me at Abby’s,” Ivy said when I answered my phone after dinner. “She said it’s urgent.”

“What is it?” I asked.

“I don’t know, but she sounded upset. I told her we’d be right over.”

When we arrived at Abby’s, our friend was waiting outside on her porch. She was only slightly bundled up, and her breath was visible in the cool air.

“Pumpkin is missing,” Abby said.

Pumpkin was Abby’s five-year-old golden retriever with an orangey-rust coat and a white spot that looked like an earring on her left ear. Pumpkin was gentle and friendly and wasn’t prone to running off.

“It’s not like Pumpkin to stay away,” she said anxiously. “We can’t find her!”

We began knocking on Ivy and Abby’s neighbors’ doors.

Abby was distraught. She was usually strong but today she was frazzled. She loved Pumpkin as much as I loved Champ, and I knew if Champ were missing, I’d be devastated, too.

Ivy and I tried to console her with talk of new fashion trends, but nothing was distracting her. We knocked on every door, asking if anyone had spotted her golden retriever.

After a few hours, exhausted, frozen, and dogless, we returned to Abby’s house. We scarfed down pizza as we downloaded photos of Pumpkin on the computer and duplicated them on her dad’s state-of-the-art jumbo home copier.

“We’ll post these tomorrow,” Ivy said, taking a stack with us.

“I really appreciate this,” Abby said. “I miss her so much.”

“I know she’ll come home,” Ivy said, giving her a hug.

“I bet she’s somewhere safe,” I said.

“I hope so,” she said. “She’s my best friend—besides you two, of course.”

“Of course,” Ivy and I agreed.

Ivy put the stack of pictures in the back of her car. Ivy was sweet and drove me back to my house.

“That dog is as good as dead, I’m afraid.”

“Ivy!” I said, shocked at her morbid remark.

“I’m not trying to be heartless,” she said. “It’s just with roaming wolves and a werewolf on the loose, she should have kept her locked in the house.”

Wolves were bad enough preying on defenseless felines. But a werewolf? My werewolf?

It couldn’t be.

The following afternoon I went with Ivy, Abby, their boyfriends, and Nash to post Pumpkin’s picture on every telephone pole and in every coffee shop. We hung our fliers next to ones for other dogs that had gone missing in the past few months. Any reason for Pumpkin’s absence wasn’t good, but to me, if Brandon was the reason—he’d be beside himself. He was devoted to animal rights and I’d seen how great he was with them—even wild animals. I was distracted by this concern, but as I didn’t want to steal the focus from Abby’s circumstances, I overcompensated by being lively and chatty with my friends.

“I know why you’ve been so happy today,” Ivy said, taking me aside. “It’s because of Nash. You are always so happy when you are with him.”

“Really?” I asked.

“Yes.”

I tried to analyze her diagnosis of my emotional state. In a way, my best friend was right. I knew we all had a blast hanging out as a sixsome, and there was incredible bliss in having a boyfriend. But I’d never felt such depths of feelings for Nash as I did for Brandon. And because Brandon was a Westsider—and now a werewolf—there were so many difficulties to our happiness together. I knew that no matter what, I could be happier with Brandon than I could be with Nash.

Ivy dropped me off at home and I saw a strange car waiting at the end of our street. I was opening our front door when someone got out and scurried toward me. I recognized the long gray hair pouring out from under a red hat.

“Dr. Meadows?” I said. I hurried toward her.

“Have you heard?” she said, breathless. “He’s been discovered.”

“Yes, everyone is spotting him. I’m really worried. And it’s not even the full moon. What’s happening?”

“I don’t know, but I must see him, too.”

“I am trying to convince him, but it’s not easy. He’s skeptical, and also really wants to keep his secret from the world.”

“I know, but you must let me see him. It is imperative. If people are coming in contact with him—he could be in danger.”

“I don’t want him to be hurt—”

“If I don’t get to him before someone else does, there could be dire consequences. No one is safe. That’s all I know.”

I didn’t like Dr. Meadows’s dramatics, but I knew her concern was real. And I feared for Brandon, too.

“If he doesn’t come to me, I’ll have to go to him,” Dr. Meadows said urgently. “I won’t be able to wait for your permission any longer. I will have to find him on my own.”

“I want him to be cured and safe. That’s all.”

“Of course you do. You love him,” she said in a soft voice. She drew my hair back from my face.

Dr. Meadows was the only one who knew my true feelings toward Brandon. I was surprised to find I felt relieved with someone else holding my secret.

“What happens if he kisses me,” I asked, “when he’s a . . . ?”

She paused with a cold, hard stare. “You mustn’t. That is all I can tell you.”

Dr. Meadows scurried away before I could say another word.

When I let myself into the house, Frank Sinatra was serenading me from my back pocket. I scrambled for my cell and hurried up to my room.

“Hello?”

“It’s good to hear your voice.”

“Yours, too.”

“I miss you,” Brandon said.

His words melted my heart.

“I miss you, too. How have you been?”

“Better. I’d prefer if I could see you at school—and after.”

“I know—but you can. We can,” I insisted.

“It’s too risky. I’ve been overhearing students—”

“But if it’s not a full moon, it can’t be you.”

“But what if it is? I dream I’m a wolf every night,” he said, his voice filled with concern.

“It’s only on a full moon that I’ve seen you turn. I’ve recorded everything in my notebook. You haven’t tried to harm or scare anyone on the other nights.”

“But I can’t remember the other nights. So how do we really know?”

“What if it’s a hoax? Someone trying to cash in on the werewolf folklore?”

“Or what if it’s another werewolf?”

“Another one?” He sighed. “I’d hate for anyone else to be going through what I am.”

“I don’t want anyone to hurt you,” I said.

“Me? That’s not what I’m worried about.”

Brandon was always concerned with others before himself. It was one of the traits that made him so alluring.

“I saw you with Nash. He’s been doting on you lately.”

“I’m not dating him,” I assured Brandon.

“Yeah . . . but just seeing you together. It’s hard. I want us to be the ones hanging out together.”

“You do?” I wasn’t totally sure of Brandon’s wishes. I felt like he kept me at a distance, and I was afraid to stick my neck out too far.

“Of course I want to be with you. It’s just . . . we have a few obstacles.”

“If I hadn’t gotten lost that day—” I lamented.

“I didn’t mean that in any way—” he said sincerely. “I know for some reason you blame yourself. I thought knowing Mr. Worthington’s story, and getting my family’s history, would make you feel better.”

“But if I hadn’t been lost in the woods, then you wouldn’t have been bitten.”

“And then I wouldn’t have gotten the best brownies of my life.”

A smile broke free from my frown. Brandon was brave in many ways. I admired his strength, and it felt impossible for me to feel anything for him but adoration.

My encounter with the Westside fortune-teller entered my mind. “Dr. Meadows . . . she might be coming for you.”

“With a cure?”

“She keeps saying she has to see you first.”

“Then that means she doesn’t have one.” He couldn’t hide the disappointment in his voice.

“I just wanted to let you know. You might have a psychic stalker on your hands.”

“The only stalker I want is you,” he said.

“I’m doing my best.”

“I have to go. It’s almost sundown, but I wanted to call and let you know . . .”

“Yes?”

“That I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“Me, too. I want us to have that date in the woods again,” I said.

“I do, too.”

“You remember?”

“No, but I jotted down as much as I could when I woke up. I wrote down that the snow sparkled like diamonds in your hair.”

That was all I needed. If Brandon took the time to jot down notes about me at the same time I was recording my memories, then it confirmed to me that our connection was real.

We got off the phone and I reveled in the fact that he was even more creative and dreamy than my overactive imagination could have imagined.

Chapter Twenty-seven
Moonlight Hideaway

B
efore English class started, Ivy and I chatted together as Dylan and Jake whispered to each other and acted like werewolves. Nash hung back and laughed.

My classmates snickered as the jocks roared and snarled.

“Have you seen the werewolf?” I heard someone ask Hayley Phillips.

“Doesn’t seem like he’s hitting the Westside,” she retorted loud enough for Ivy and me to hear.

Dylan and Jake stopped showing off when Abby bolted into class.

“I was almost attacked last night,” Abby said. “First my dog. Now me.”

“What happened?” Ivy asked.

“Are you okay?” I wondered.

“After volleyball practice, I left the school gym and this
thing
jumped out of the bushes at me.”

“What thing?” Ivy asked.

“A thing! A creature.”

“You have to be kidding me,” Ivy said. “A creature?”

Dylan sat by her and consoled her. “Abby, it might be best if you kept quiet.”

“Did it touch you?” I asked, concerned.

“No—” she said. “I screamed so loud I think I scared it away.”

“What did it look like?” I asked.

“It was evil, that’s all I know. All I saw was dark hair and fangs.”

I turned to Brandon. Distress showed on his face. He put his head in his maimed hand and flipped through a textbook.

Mrs. Clark entered the classroom. “Everyone, take your seats. You’ll be reading your essays aloud in class today.”

“Abby says she saw the werewolf last night here at school,” Heidi Rosen said.

Abby turned to her in horror.

“Is there something you’d like to report?” Mrs. Clark asked.

“Yes,” Abby said. “Just like Heidi, I saw the Legend’s Run Werewolf.”

Heidi glared at Abby as the rest of the students snickered again.

I couldn’t concentrate on any of the murmuring in the classroom. Brandon wouldn’t be so brazen as to scare Abby. And if he did, what would I do? I wasn’t sure I should feel affection toward a guy who was scaring my friends. But Brandon never hurt me or posed a threat when we were together, so why would he do that to others? It just didn’t make sense.

After class was over, I tried to catch up to Brandon, but he snuck out quickly and slipped away into the crowd of students. I seemed to be the only one at Legend’s Run High who couldn’t spot the werewolf.

Later, Ivy and I were in the library gossiping during study hall.

“Do you believe Abby really saw a werewolf?” Ivy asked me.

Really, I thought she did. But how could I tell Ivy that?

“I’m not sure,” I said instead. “I think she thinks she saw something. But do you really think a werewolf is running around Legend’s Run?” I asked her.

“I still think there was something bizarro about that wolfman Brandon Maddox and that incident with the wolves. Maybe it’s him.”

I paused. “Does Brandon have fangs?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t made a point of getting that close to him.”

“You really think he’s a werewolf?” I pressed.

“I swear I saw him stare at those wolves and they were staring right back at him. It’s possible. He is from the Westside,” she said with a laugh.

I didn’t think my best friend’s comment was funny.

“But I think that’s it,” Ivy continued as if she just realized something. “Ever since I said that thing about Brandon being weird when the wolves came, Abby’s had to top me. With her dog missing, and now this crazy story. Don’t you see it?”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“I think Abby’s just trying to get attention,” she said, fixated on our friend. “Everyone wants to know her story about seeing a werewolf.”

I didn’t reply but listened to my friend rant.

“Did you see at lunch the way Dylan and Jake were fawning all over her? And Nash, though he was just hanging back, taking it all in.”

I was surprised at Ivy’s being jealous of the attention Abby was receiving.

“If she did see something—” I said.

“She didn’t see anything, don’t you get it? She’s made the whole thing up. Just to get attention. It’s so like her.”

“You’re saying Abby lied?”

Just then Abby returned to the library from her locker.

“This is just between us,” Ivy said.

“Of course,” I said.

“What did I miss?” Abby said. She always felt left out when Ivy and I were together. In this case, her feelings were accurate.

After school, I was heading down the stairs when I spotted Brandon. He was standing at the bottom of the landing, out of the way of students. I was startled and surprised he was finally making contact with me.

“I have to ask you to come over,” he said quickly when I reached him. “It’s important.”

Normally, I would have been happy that we’d be together again. But his tone was more stern than romantic.

“I’ll be there,” I said.

For a brief moment, we locked eyes—his royal blues glistening like raindrops. It was obvious he couldn’t linger like he longed to, but whatever it was he needed to tell me was more important than risking a secret stairwell kiss.

He escaped into the hallway before I could convince him to stay any longer.

As I drove from the Eastside to the Westside, I was struck by the number of flyers there were about missing dogs. I couldn’t even count the signs that were taped to the telephone poles along the road. Was a wolf—or werewolf—in fact harming the dogs of Legend’s Run?

My heart pounded as I drove my car along the Maddoxes’ private drive and past the frozen pond where we’d shared our romantic ice skate together. I wondered what Brandon wanted to tell me. I found him pacing by his guesthouse. I hopped out of the car and raced up to him.

“I’ve become a danger,” he said. “Everyone is spotting me now.”

“I haven’t seen you—I still think people are just paranoid, scared of the wolves that showed up at school.”

“How can I know when I don’t remember anything?” He raked his hands through his hair in frustration. “Your friend Abby. She said I jumped out at her.”

“You haven’t hurt anyone—they’re just scared.” I tried to ease his mind. “Besides, there’s no full moon. You’re not transforming into a werewolf. ”

“But does that matter anymore? I don’t know what I’ll do next. It’s in my blood—just like Mr. Worthington—Charlie—told me. No one in town is safe from me after sunset.”

“But, Brandon—”

“I can’t remember anything I do at night. I know I’m the one responsible. The only way to cure this is . . .”

We both paused. I wasn’t sure what Brandon’s resolution was going to be and I wasn’t about to hear it. I stared at him squarely in the face, fear and anger tearing through me. “Not a silver bullet!” I said. “That isn’t the solution! And if you think that for a minute—”

“No,” he said, breaking a smile. “I’d like a cure that doesn’t involve bullets.”

I breathed out a huge sigh.

“But since we don’t have a cure . . .”

“What are you going to do?” One fear was replaced with another. I could only imagine the love of my life pushing himself further away from me and the town. “Are you going to leave?”

“No, the idea is to stay. Confined. For the whole night.”

“What do you mean?”

“My grandparents have gone to Florida for a vacation, so they won’t even miss me.”

“Miss you? Where are you going?”

“I’ll need your help.” He put a heavy-duty padlock in my hand.

“What am I supposed to do with this?”

“I rigged this today,” he said, pointing to several brackets and a latch on the outside of the guesthouse. “All you have to do is put the lock on just before the sun sets. I don’t think I can bust it. And if I do, at least we tried.”

“But you’ll be locked inside your room all night?”

“That’s the idea.”

“What if something happens and you need help? You’ll be trapped.”

“I’ll call nine-one-one. I have a phone and all the amenities I need. I’ll be fine. It’s the people of Legend’s Run I’m worried about.”

“This isn’t any way to live, Brandon—like a caged animal.”

“I don’t have a choice, Celeste.” He cupped my face in his hands.

We sat together in the guesthouse, snuggled together on top of his single bed. I caressed the scar on his hand and snuck in as many kisses as I could before nightfall. The sun began setting behind the trees.

“It’s time,” he said.

“But I don’t want to leave.”

“I’m afraid you have to. You can’t stay in here with me.”

Brandon gave me a long kiss and shooed me out the door.

“I’ll come back before school,” I said.

“Just remember the key,” he said. “I don’t want to get detention for being late.”

As the sun continued to set, he closed the door.

Using all my strength, I pressed the padlock closed. I tugged at it several times, making sure it had truly latched.

I leaned against the door, placing my palm on it. It was as if I could feel Brandon’s energy coming through from the other side.

“You better go,” he finally said.

“I don’t want to. You’ll be all alone.”

“It’s better than the alternative,” he said.

“I’ll have my phone with me at all times,” I assured him. “Please call me.”

“See you in the morning,” he said. “Hopefully I’ll still be here.”

I drove off down the long driveway. My stomach felt hollow, leaving Brandon all alone locked away in his room. It was one thing when he was hidden away in the woods. But to me, this was worse.

My true love was jailed—by his condition and by his own free will.