Never Cry Werewolf (14 page)

“It’s not what he did
to
me, it’s what he could do
for
me.”

I put my hands on my hips. “You better stay away from Austin.”

Charles pressed his thin lips together. “This is the story. And let’s face it—with his history, it can only get bigger.”

“You’re classy, you know that?”

He shrugged. “It’s nothing personal. I just want out of this place. As soon as I get some hot copy
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and pictures, I’ll be on the next plane. My dad can’t resist a scandal—especially one involving the Bridgeses.”

“You want to go home that bad?”

“Home? Uh, boring! I’m thinking Ibiza or Mykonos. There’s a whole summer of parties ahead.”

I rolled my eyes. “Look, you’re not going to get anything on Austin. There’s no scandal here. You better find another target. Or how about this—make some friends and try to have a good time at camp.”

Charles shrugged and for a moment looked almost sad. “Do you have any idea how hard it is for me? I mean, the famous kids I know are always afraid I’m gonna tell my dad stuff, and the regular kids keep trying to be my friend to get themselves on TV. It’s not easy.”

“Everyone has it tough, Charles. That doesn’t mean you should exploit people. I mean, you might even make a friend if you didn’t try to use them.”

He stood there looking at me for a moment. “Yeah, maybe,” he said. “But that’s not going to happen, so why try?” He gave me a finger wave and then walked off down the trail.

I made my way back to Spotted Owl, now more worried than ever about Austin. And knowing if Charles got his hands on the real story, it’d be all over.

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T
he next morning I was finishing up another weedy flower bed when Mr. Winters appeared, casting a huge shadow over me. “How’s it coming?” he asked after a moment.

“Pretty good.”

“Good.” He kept standing there, watching me work.

That annoyed me to no end. “Um, is this the part where you ask me about my mother again, and I go all weepy and then we hug it out and you consider the whole thing a raging success?” I said, dropping a shovelful of dandelion roots at his feet.

Kicking the stuff aside, he smiled down at me. “Actually, I was coming to tell you you’ve completed your work sessions.”

“Oops,” I said. I smiled in the hope that he’d let my snarky comment slide. “So, I’m all cured, then? I don’t have to do any therapy stuff with you?” I asked.

“Working on yourself is an ongoing process. Dr. Wanda has offered to give you individual appointments if you think you need them.”

Ugh. I shivered on the inside. “No way. I mean, no, I don’t think that’ll be necessary, thanks anyway.”

He nodded, slipping his hands into the front pockets of his khaki shorts, which just seemed to make his tummy stick out more. I expected him to leave, but he kept hanging.

“So, was there something else?” I asked. I scratched my cheeks against the shoulder of my yellow Juicy T-shirt—not the best weeding attire, but wash day wasn’t until next Monday, and I was nearly out of clean Ts.

“I wondered if you thought over what we talked about,” he said.

“I knew this was going to be about my mom dying again,” I said, rolling my eyes.

He smiled and took a seat next to me on the ground. “You know, when something bad happens and you don’t get a chance to get those feelings out, you delay the pain, but you don’t get rid of it. It stays inside you, taking up space.”

“I guess.”

Mr. Winters shrugged. “I’ve heard you talk about being angry at your stepmother, but how about your father? What’s going on there?”

“It’s not good,” I said quietly.

He nodded. “It hasn’t been easy for either of you.”

“Yeah. I guess.” I brushed a clump of dirt off my leg. I didn’t want to look Mr. Winters in the eye.

I didn’t want to think about how hard it’d been for my dad. That stuff about delaying pain—that’s what he’d done in marrying Priscilla. I mean, how could he have mourned Mom and moved on so quickly? It still felt so fresh to me.

Mr. Winters nodded. “Okay, then we’re done here. I’ve told Cynthia to expect you in about ten minutes over at the talent show rehearsals.”

“I’m not performing,” I said with a shrug. “I’m helping with scenery.”

He gave me a small smile. “That’s great. We all have different talents.”

“So I’m supposed to just leave all this?” I gestured to my unfinished flower bed and the small pots of violets and pansies waiting to be planted.

“There’s always someone who could use a morning gardening,” Mr. Winters said, taking the tools I handed him. “And if you’d try to have some fun now that the work’s over, Shelby, I’d appreciate it.”

In the gym my favorite werewolf stood poised with a paintbrush. In front of him white clouds swirled over dark blue sky, and green thickets of vines twined up the sides of the canvas flats. Little birds perched on rose branches near a stone fountain gushing clear sparkling water. It was a forest paradise.

“Austin,” I said as I approached, “this is amazing.”

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He turned, half smiling. “Ariel kept mentioning a forbidden forest, so I painted it for her. Ah…you weren’t here, so I began. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Mind? Holy crap! This is the most beautiful scenery I’ve ever seen.”

“Oh. Well, thank you.” A blush crept into Austin’s cheeks, which made me smile. “I do a bit of sketching.” He set his paintbrush down onto an aluminum pie tin he was using as a palette.

“So, what are we doing?”

He wiped his hands on a cloth. “It seems Price and Ariel decided on
Beauty and the Beast
this morning. Ariel will write; Price will direct.”

“Beauty and the Beast?”
I blinked at him. “Um…”

“The fairy tale, not the Disney movie,” Austin said. “Ariel argued with Price about the corporate implications.”

“Oh. And you’re
okay
with
Beauty and the Beast
?”

“I’m just doing the scenery, Shelby. Nothing more.”

“No, I mean…”

“I’m well aware of the story,” Austin said, sitting down next to me. Up close, I could see a little splotch of yellow paint, round as a moon, on his cheek. I wanted to rub it off, but I didn’t.

“Listen, I wanted to tell you something, but I didn’t get a chance at breakfast with everyone around,” I said. “Last night Charles was on the path when I walked back to my cabin. He obviously was stalking you. He’s trying to make you into some kind of tabloid story.”

Austin shook his head. “I’d already figured as much.”

“No, I don’t think you get it. He’s a serious problem,” I said. “What if he has a camera and gets pictures of you changing or whatever?”

“They confiscated all cameras,” Austin said.

“He’s sneaky. And
you
have stuff you’re not supposed to have, like your matches. He could have a camera.”

Austin smiled grimly. “If I don’t get the serum in the next two days, I’m not going to be around for him to take snapshots.”

I felt a little sinking feeling in my stomach. “You’d leave? You said there was no reason to worry, that you don’t attack people.”

“And I meant it.” Austin’s mouth pulled into a grim line. “I thought I could just hide out in the woods around the cabins at night, but it’s too risky. Someone might see me. I can’t put my family in jeopardy.” He stared down at his hands, one finger scratching at some red paint speckles. “You’re only the second person I’ve ever told my secret to,” he said quietly.

“Who was the other one?”

He studied my face for a moment and then said, “Jillian Montrose.”

I inhaled a deep breath. “The girl who spread the rumors.”

He nodded. “We were schoolmates when I was twelve. My first crush, I guess you could say. I told her the truth and she laughed and told me being a werewolf was fine because she was a sorceress.”

My eyes widened. “And was she?”

“No, no. She was playing along. We were the best of friends. But then her family came to our estate for the weekend when my father was away touring Japan. No one realized I was on the edge of my first change.”

“Nothing happened, right?”

“It was the weekend of a bloody full moon, Shelby.”

My heart stilled. “Oh, no.”

“It was a summer night, and Jillian and I were up late watching the telly. We went out to the garden to get some air. She was dipping her toes into the fountain while I was picking strawberries near the fence. But then the moonlight hit me. The next thing I knew I was transforming into my wolf body. It terrified me. I’m not certain what Jillian saw, but as I ran off into the woods to hide, I heard her screaming. In the morning I woke naked in an open field. When I made it home, my governess had the police searching for me, and Jillian’s family was tearing down the drive in their Range Rover. They
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thought something awful had happened to her.”

My skin prickled with goose bumps. “So she saw you change,” I said. “And she freaked out.”

“I don’t know. It’s all a blur. But I didn’t attack her; I ran away—afraid of what I had become.

The constable leaked the story of the incident to the London press, and the rest of the year was a nightmare. Jillian kept quiet—but she never spoke to me again. I probably mentally scarred her for life. I still feel horrible about the whole thing.”

“Austin, I’m sorry that happened to you.”

He looked embarrassed. “Forgive me. I don’t mean to burden you with more confessions.” He paused, squeezing my hand. “But now you see that I can’t take a chance with the press again, even if it means I leave someone I care for. And I do care for you. You must know that.”

There was a tender look in his eyes now, and it only added to the mixture of attraction and fear I was feeling. I forced myself to breathe. He was waiting for me to say something, so I mumbled, “Yeah.”

“I haven’t experienced the lunar change in years—since that first time. I’ve heard it can be unpredictable. And now that I’m grown, I imagine it will be stronger than it was before.” Austin looked out across the gym at the other groupings of kids working on their sets and costumes. “I hate this,” he said finally. “I would rather be anything but this.”

My heart smashed into a thousand little pieces for him. I felt the need to say something, anything, to make him feel better. But I didn’t know what that might be. I could see why he hated the change, why he suppressed the wolf. There was reason for him, and maybe for all of us, to be scared. But at the same time, this boy was just Austin. An artistic, caring, intelligent guy who was anything but beastly.

“So, what can I do to help you? I mean, with the sets,” I added, clearly needing to change the subject. I pushed the wolf out of my mind and focused on the cute boy in front of me.

Austin gestured toward the paints and brushes. “You could fill in the leaves on the rosebush,” he said.

I nodded and stood up.

“Shelby, thank you for listening.”

“That’s what friends are for.”

He smiled weakly and got up. “I haven’t many of those. You’re the first in a long, long time. As you can imagine, it’s near impossible to trust anyone.”

“Yeah, I can see.”

He gave me a grateful look and then walked over and picked up his paint palette and brush. We worked without talking until we had finished the forest tableau. Of course, I only added a few highlights here and there to the beautiful scene Austin had crafted, but when we were done, I felt a sense of satisfaction. We’d created a perfect, idealized background for
Beauty and the Beast
. And I didn’t want to think about what that symbolized any more than Austin did.

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T
ake the raffia and simply twist it into bird wings like so,” Dr. Wanda said, running a special arts and crafts session the next day after lunch.

The other counselors had some kind of meeting, so instead of cramming into the tiny art studio, all of us campers were in the dining hall, spread out among the lunch tables. Hardly anyone was paying attention to Dr. Wanda.

“Then, using another piece of twine, tie those wings to the body of the bird,” she said, walking between the tables and then stopping at mine. “Austin, there’s room over here. Why don’t you join this group?”

My head jerked up. I hadn’t seen him at breakfast, and I had been wondering what he was up to.

My heart beat a little faster just seeing him in the entry of the dining hall. He wore a black T-shirt and jeans, his brown hair pushed back behind his ears. He saw me and smiled. I let out a breath I’d been holding. He looked so normal. Well, gorgeous and normal.

Dr. Wanda waved Austin over to our table. “Just start here. Price can show you what to do.”

“Sure thing, Dr. Wanda.” Wearing his usual grin, Price slid his project down the table to make room, so that Austin was directly across from me. “Here’s some raffia,” Price said, handing him some materials. “We’re making big ol’ birds.”

“Thanks, mate. Hello, Shelby,” he said.

“Hey,” I said casually, but my voice sounded small and far away. My palms felt sweaty, so I wiped them on my shorts.

“Okay, what you do is…” Price began, rattling off the bird directions Austin had missed.

“Hey, Dr. Wanda! Mine looks like a spider,” Jenna said a minute later, waving her hand to get Dr.

Wanda’s attention. “Have you had formal art training or did they teach you this in shrink school?”

Dr. Wanda smoothed her frizzy bangs and then pulled at the hem of her shirt, which barely covered her round middle. Obviously, the woman was trying to keep it together. If it were me, I’d probably have told Jenna where to stick it, but Dr. Wanda managed to smile. “All of us are making birds that express our individuality. Every bird has a chance to fly, eight legs or not.”