The Mayfair Moon (8 page)

The clear picture of her face blinked out as the driver got in and shut his door, turning off the interior light.

Introductions were important, but I was expecting explanations first. For a long moment, I couldn’t speak. I heard Zia’s name in the back of my mind, but my awareness hadn’t caught up to it yet. I studied the three guys, the driver who looked the oldest and had a short, black mohawk. The smallest who sat behind the driver near the door seemed to have a permanent scowl on his face. And the one sitting on the other side of me against the passenger door, he was the one who put my bike in the back. He was gorgeous, a little rough around the edges, but so gorgeous that I had to pull my eyes off him so he wouldn’t notice my investigation had turn into gawking. His skin was lightly tanned, his hair black with a messy short cut and longer on top. His dark eyes instantly pulled me in to some kind of abyss, which I recognized right away as an inevitable problem.

“Thanks,” I said, turning my attention to Zia. “I was afraid you were someone else.”

The driver shifted the gear and we pulled away with a jolt. The Jeep’s top had been taken off, so it was chilly as we rode away.

Zia turned around from the front seat to face me. “William and Ashe, from the skate park?” she said, knowing.

“Yeah,” I admitted. “You know them? Who are they?”

“Brothers,” said Zia. “Don’t have any desire to know more than that, really.”

“I can see why.”

“We’re much nicer,” said Zia, “despite what the school thinks of me.”

I twisted uneasily on the seat, feeling a pang of guilt even though I had never thought badly of her myself. “What does the school think of you?”

Zia laughed. “I’m surprised you haven’t heard,” she said turning around again to face forward. “I’m a devil-worshipper and my brothers accused of being more than brothers, if you know what I mean.”

My face scrunched up in disgust.

“Well, I haven’t heard anything like that,” I said honestly, “and besides, rumors are just rumors anyway.”

“Didn’t say I cared what anybody thought,” said Zia. “Well, except maybe for you. If you thought I was a freak you might not have gotten in the Jeep.”

She made a valid point.

“My brothers are Damien here,” she said nodding toward the driver, “and Joseph back there, who everyone calls Dwarf.” She was referring to the little one sitting behind the driver next to me.

“And that’s Isaac, the quiet one on the other side of you. We live with him and his family—“

“That’s enough, Zia,” Isaac jumped in.

They were the only words he would say, but the tone said much more. Zia fell silent, though her posture seethed with irritation. I was confused and even a little put off.

“Anyway, we’ll take you home,” Zia said, “and some advice: don’t go outside too late around here by yourself.”

I slunk back into the seat, pulling my sleeves over my hands and crossing my arms.

She added then, “By the way, how’s your sister doing?”

How did she know about Alex? Why was Alex mentioned so often by people that didn’t even know me, much less her? This was so strange that I couldn’t hold back anymore. “Ok, now I’m a little freaked out,” I said. “How do you know about my sister? And those guys, they mentioned her by name.”

“Not sure about them,” said Zia, “but I know because Isaac’s oldest brother, Nathan, works at the grocery store with Beverlee. And word spreads fast around here; small town and all. Her name is Alexa, right?”

“No, it’s Alexandra, but she goes by Alex.”

I
had
to stop being so paranoid about everything all the time. More and more every day I realized just how much ‘the incident’ in Georgia had affected me and that I wasn’t as over it as I thought I was. I thought about William and Ashe then, wondering if maybe I read too much into them. Sure, they were obvious jerks, but a part of me was so afraid of them that I actually, in a small way, feared for my life. That was ridiculous. Would
every
incident in my life be dictated by
the
incident? And with each new realization, I reminded myself about what I had seen. What I went through.

It was in this unlikely moment, right there in the Jeep with my enigmatic company that my subconscious decided to accept the truth.

I saw a werewolf.

I witnessed with my own eyes a real, living, breathing, terrifying werewolf much like the ones you see in the movies and read about in books. And when a person comes to such an unbelievable realization as this, when the human in them can’t lie or make up excuses anymore, it changes that person forever.

I changed right there. It took me weeks to believe it, but finally the truth caught up with me. I knew then too that the reason Alex was no longer the sister I once knew was because the truth caught up to her much faster.

The cold of change washed over me in an instant. I heard Zia’s voice and occasionally the voices of Damien and Dwarf, but if they were talking to me, I didn’t know it. I absently looked at my company, one by one, and somehow I couldn’t see them the way I saw them before. What was being human exactly? It seemed everything around me was nothing but a lie and I would have to start over and relearn everything I had learned since I spoke my first words and took my first steps.

Everything
was a lie and I had been living in this lie for seventeen years.

Something as heavy as that is a dangerous burden to carry.

“Stop the car,” I demanded.

“What?” said Zia.

“Please, just stop the car. I appreciate the ride, but I can get home the rest of the way by myself.”

“Let us take you home,” said Isaac, laying his warm hand gently upon my wrist as I grabbed the back of Zia’s seat.

I looked at him and for a moment wanted to listen. His eyes were magnetic. There was a sort of intensity and concern in them that I couldn’t place, but there was no time for trying. I wanted to go home and I wanted to do it alone.

“Please....” I said one last time.

Damien stopped the Jeep and Isaac got out. He walked around to get my bike down for me.

“I understand,” said Zia. “Look, I’ll see you in school if you want. I hope we didn’t offend you or anything.”

“No, not at all,” I said. “Thanks again for the ride.”

I looked back once before riding away and when I did the only set of eyes I saw looking back at me were Isaac’s. The red light from the brakes cast an eerie glow upon the street. Finally, the Jeep faded from sight and I could hear the humming of its engine in the distance. I stopped there in the street, one paved rather than covered with gravel, and I held firmly onto this moment. A streetlight burned and hummed gently overhead just feet away. A mailbox shaped like an old-timey red barn was at my left, its owners far up the driveway where tiny white dots I recognized as lights, glimmered through the darkness.

I was cold, but I didn’t care. I was also hungry and had a headache, but none of that mattered either.

Had I become Alex in that moment? I didn’t feel angry, or hateful, or capable of treating those who loved me, with contempt. Guess I assumed that if I was in Alex’s realm now that I was supposed to feel that way. I just felt different. When I made it home, I went straight up to my room. I searched the internet for anything on werewolves I could find. I searched and read until I could no longer keep my eyes open and sleep took me sometime after four in the morning.

~~~

“You fell asleep there?” Beverlee was standing somewhere in my room. “Adria, why don’t you get in your bed for an hour; you’re going to get a crick in your neck.”

I was barely awake and it took a minute to understand who she was and what she was talking about. I lifted my head from the desk and felt a cool draft of air brush my face where drool had pooled under my cheek. I closed the laptop where there had to be twenty web pages open, which I didn’t want Beverlee to see. She probably would’ve thought nothing of it, but I was panicked by privacy as if her seeing a simple web page would give everything away.

“Do you want some breakfast? I made pancakes.”

I looked over at the clock and then the window. The sun much higher than it usually was. I was late for school. I jerked awake fully then and started to rush around getting ready.

“Adria,” Beverlee said, “dentist appointment at nine, remember? I’ll drop you off at school afterwards.”

I went through the entire day in a haze. I sat with my regular friends at lunch and they noticed I wasn’t myself though I tried not to make it so obvious. It was easy to dodge their questions simply by nodding Yes or No and faking a yawn every now and then to make it seem like I just needed some sleep. But as the days wore on, hiding my issues became more unavoidable. A little more than a month and already rumors were going around about me, which made it to Beverlee’s ears at the grocery store.

“I don’t want you to hold a grudge against me for asking you this, Adria,” Beverlee said standing in the doorway of my bedroom one Saturday afternoon, “but it’s important that I talk to you about it.”

“I’m not on drugs, Beverlee,” I said, a step ahead of her. “I’ll take a drug test if you want me to.”

I sat on my bed with my back pressed against the headboard, a pile of books beside me, the laptop on the other side and a spiral tablet in my lap.

She walked further inside and sat on the end of my bed.

“I believe you,” she said, “and a drug test isn’t necessary to prove it, but will you tell me what’s going on with you lately?” She reached out and touched my ankle. “I thought you were warming up to us. You seemed great and then just like that you were hiding yourself upstairs like your sister.” She paused as though waiting for me to look at her while speaking and I did finally look away from the tablet. “Did something happen at school? Did I do something? Do you miss your mom? I know you must miss her, but I’m here for you if you need someone to talk to. You know that, right?”

I hated her for being so likable. It made me feel guilty for giving her reason to ask such questions and worry about me as much as she was.

Placing the tablet beside me on the bed, I gave her my full attention. The delicate lines around her lips curved subtly as she looked at me, softening the worried expression on her face just a bit. She wore a white long-sleeved button-up shirt with tiny blue flowers sprinkled all over the fabric. Beverlee reminded me of my mom; the way my mom used to look at me before she succumbed to that strange masochist lifestyle.

I did miss my mom. But I had been missing her for at least six years.

“It’s nothing you did,” I said. “I’m grateful you and Uncle Carl gave us a place to live. I know Alex is too, but she’s just taking things harder and I’m sorry for the way she’s treated you.” I smiled softly at Beverlee. “I’ll be fine. I’m just missing home a little, but I’ll be fine. I promise.”

It did bother me that my mom hadn’t called once to talk to us, but that was something I tried my hardest not to think about.

Beverlee returned the smile and then looked at the stack of books beside me with an inevitable curiosity.

“My thing was vampires when I was your age,” she said, reaching over and taking
The Werewolf Book: The Encyclopedia of Shape-Shifting Beings
into her hand. She began flipping through its pages. “
Interview with the Vampire
,
The Lost Boys
,” she added as if to question my knowledge of them.

She placed the book back down. “But I guess maybe werewolves are the thing now.”

“Uhhh, not really,” I said, completely uncomfortable with the conversation. “I’m just reading it because I...well I have to write a short story for my Literature class and decided to do mine on werewolves.”

“That sounds interesting. I’d like to read it when you’re done.”

I knew my lies would get me into trouble eventually.

“I’ve always found them interesting myself,” she added.

“Werewolves?”

“Uh huh,” she said. She tapped the book with the tip of her finger. “Never thought they were scary though. Nothing scary about turning into a wolf. Kind of cool, actually.”

Oh god. Beverlee was thinking of the wrong sort of ‘werewolf’ here.

I just played it off.

Beverlee patted me on the leg and stood. “I do feel better than before I came up here,” she said. “We’re really glad to have you and Alex here; don’t forget that.”

I spent the entire Saturday in my room, reading and surfing the net, but when I realized I wasn’t any closer to finding out anything more about ‘real’ werewolves than when I started, I put the books away and turned the laptop off completely. I don’t know what I was trying to find, but I was beyond frustrated with it all. What did I expect? Werewolves weren’t supposed to be real and researching them would be like researching UFO’s. There would be a book here and there about the possibility of their existence, eyewitness accounts that no one ever took seriously. Old village myths from centuries ago and random names of some professor or ‘expert’ who only the crazy truly believed in their research. After all, sane people don’t believe in the supernatural. Normal people believe what the majority believe and everything else is fiction. Right?

It was late, after eleven o’clock when I heard Alex stirring in her room. There wasn’t anything unusual about that since she made it a habit to actually come out of her room after Uncle Carl and Beverlee had gone to bed. Her footsteps faded down the stairs and I waited, listening. When she never came back up, my interest grew. The routine was usually to rummage the kitchen for something to eat and sometimes she would turn the TV on for a few minutes before heading back upstairs.

Still nothing.

And then something instinctive compelled me to look out my bedroom window. I saw Alex, dressed in only her gown, walking briskly behind the house and disappearing through the trees.

I slipped on my shoes quickly, grabbed my coat and followed.

I let the back screen door shut softly behind me and I leapt down the back steps, taking two at a time. The moment my thin Converse shoes hit the frigid ground, I regretted not doubling-up on socks and grabbing my hat and gloves while I was at it. I sucked in cold air as I ran, quickly realizing that my lungs were better off immobile, at least until I could breathe into the warm confines of my coat sleeve. My eyes burned; the layer of moisture coating them, stripped away by the cold October air.