Once in a Full Moon (11 page)

Brandon didn’t answer. Instead, he released me from his embrace and stepped away.

“Really,” I said. “I won’t go. Not if you don’t want me to. At least not yet.”

“It’s not that . . .” Brandon turned pale. “I feel odd.”

“Maybe you should sit down,” I said, pointing to the tree stump.

“No—it’s something different. I feel really hot.”

“That’s because you are,” I said, grinning.

“I’m burning up,” he said, and took off his coat.

Our kisses had heated me up, too, but I wasn’t ready to throw my coat to the side just yet.

Brandon ripped off his long-sleeved knit shirt and dropped it in the snow. He pulled off his undershirt and threw it at his feet. “I feel really weird,” he said. “I’m not sure you should be around me. I think something’s wrong.”

I felt awful, too. We had just shared the best kiss of my life and now Brandon was acting strangely.

The fog from his warm breath seemed to be heavier and thicker than mine. I wasn’t sure what was happening. “Maybe you’ve come down with something,” I offered. “There’s always some flu going around.”

He kicked off his boots and yanked off his socks.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

But Brandon was far from focused on me. His brow furrowed and his gaze showed concern. This was no seduction.

He finally looked at me. Brandon was standing in thirty-degree weather in several inches of snow in just his jeans. He was barefoot and shirtless. And he wasn’t shivering.

His chest was smooth and his arms were pale and lean. His chest heaved in and out rapidly.

“You must have a fever. But then you’d be shivering,” I said, bewildered. “Let’s go inside. Maybe your grandparents can help.”

“No—they’re not home. Besides, I don’t think I should move.”

Brandon started to shake. It was then I saw it. His royal blue eyes were a searing gray.

I couldn’t believe my
own
eyes! I was stunned. How could his eyes change color? And why?

Now I began to shake. What was happening to Brandon? I was scared.

Brandon doubled over.

Maybe he did have the flu, but his symptoms were coming on so strong and so quickly, I wasn’t sure what kind of flu it was.

Brandon pulled himself over to a tree and leaned his back against it. I tried to follow, but he shooed me away. I wanted to respect his privacy, but I was really starting to worry. I cared for Brandon so deeply and was torn apart seeing him in distress. Since he wasn’t going to leave the hilltop, I’d have to get someone to come to him.

“I’m calling the police. You need a doctor,” I said.

Brandon didn’t say a word.

The tree blocked my view of Brandon. It was dark except for the strong moonlight.

“Brandon,” I said, “what’s happening?”

“Please, Celeste. You have to leave.” Brandon’s voice was tormented and serious.

“No, I don’t want to leave you.”

“Please . . . go. Now!”

The more Brandon pushed me away, the more I wanted to stay.

“I’m calling nine-one-one,” I said as a threat.

“Please leave, Celeste,” he repeated. His voice was so deep, almost animal-like.

I kept hoping that at any moment Brandon would jump out and say “Gotcha!” like the millions of times Nash pranked me and our friends.

But he didn’t and I was truly frightened.

“What are you doing?” I called. “You’re scaring me! I’m going back to the game.”

“Yes—that’s . . . a great . . . idea.” His voice was now shallow and breathless.

I retreated. I was torn. If this was a cruel joke, I didn’t want to be its target. His brilliant blue eyes had changed to gray. It couldn’t be possible. But if it was, then something was dreadfully wrong with Brandon and leaving him up there alone on the hilltop wasn’t the responsible thing to do. He hadn’t run away when I needed help. As scared as I was, I wasn’t about to desert him in his time of crisis.

“I’m getting help,” I called to him again.

He didn’t answer.

Then he stepped out from behind the tree. Brandon’s short, wavy brown hair was now savagely wild and shoulder-length. His normally clean-shaven face sported a goatee. His once-smooth chest was now lined with a thin layer of hair. His stomach was as ripped as an Olympic swimmer’s, and his biceps were cut like a triathlete’s. His eyes were a gorgeous gray. He was breathing heavy, as if he’d run a marathon. Brandon had fangs like a wolf.

I stopped dialing. I could barely breathe. It couldn’t be . . .

Brandon continued to stare at me intensely, as if he wasn’t sure what had just happened himself.

“Brandon! You look like a werewolf!”

His expression was sullen. He examined his arms and felt his stubble and goatee.

Brandon glared at me with the frailty of a human and the intensity of an animal.

I inched away. I was frightened and freaked out. Why was he acting this way? A moment ago, I’d been on the other end of his irresistible lips. And now he was acting like a creature I’d never seen before.

I was afraid of him—of the situation—of being alone in the woods. The same person who’d saved me from a pack of wolves was now staring at me with their steady gray eyes.

Unsure of what he’d do next, I didn’t break his mesmerizing gaze. I gently and quietly took a giant step backward. Unfortunately, my boot landed on a branch instead of solid ground. It cracked underneath my pressure, causing my foot to slip and I fell down.

When I looked up, Brandon was standing over me.

“No—” I cried, putting my hand out.

I was frightened and began to shake. He looked like he could rip me to shreds. But Brandon appeared confused by my fear. His intense expression softened as if he was as surprised as I was at his strange condition.

Suddenly he retreated into the shadows and disappeared.

In the distance, I heard a fierce howl, like that of a lone wolf.

Chapter Fourteen
Sweet Dreams

I
didn’t believe what I had just seen. Brandon turning into a werewolf? In the back of my mind, I kept thinking about the kiss. But how could that turn him into a werewolf? When he heroically saved me from the pack of wolves and was bitten, it was a full moon. But it couldn’t be. . . . There had to be some rational explanation. Every magician had a secret, and Brandon must have had one, too.

Or perhaps I was dreaming.

I wasn’t about to remain alone in the woods, in a dream or not, on the lonely hilltop by his house.

I grabbed Brandon’s shirt and darted out of the woods. I ran as fast as I could to my car. I didn’t look back until I was safely locked inside.

If this were truly a dream, then I wouldn’t have Brandon’s shirt when I woke up in the morning. Unfortunately, that meant our magical kiss would have been a fantasy, too.

I was too shaken up to return to the basketball game. No amount of gossip or giggles with the girls could take my mind off of what I’d just witnessed or distract me from the most passionate kiss I’d ever had.

I managed to pull out of Brandon’s driveway and onto the narrow road. With every turn and flash of my headlights in the lonely woods, I was terrified that some creature would jump out of the trees.

I tried to breathe slowly as I drove, convincing myself there had to be a rational explanation. It wasn’t that Brandon had changed—it was me. The shadows of the moonlight distorted my view of his normally good-looking features and transformed them into wildly animalistic ones. Before we’d kissed, I’d distracted myself with thoughts of Dr. Meadows’s prediction—
Beware of a kiss under the full moon. It will change your life forever
—and it toyed with my mind. And the other explanation—I’d been studying werewolves and it plagued my thoughts. How could I have seen him any other way? I’d been eating and breathing werewolf folklore, so it was only natural for it to have infiltrated my mind. The moon was full, we were in a darkened wood where wolves can lurk, and Brandon had been bitten. I’m sure I just mixed it all together, under the intoxication of finally having the kiss I’d been dying to receive. Maybe I’d felt guilty about my feelings for Brandon—and all the complications they would cause—and this was my way of projecting them.

But there was one thing that I couldn’t explain away. The kiss. It was as magical as any transformation. Its power left an impact on me like a meteoroid hitting the earth.

I replayed the conversation I’d had with Dr. Meadows. She’d predicted all the events that happened—every decision that I made on my own—things that she had nothing to do with. But there was one thing she couldn’t predict—me falling in love.

When I was safely home, I called and texted Brandon. But there was no response. As I paced in my room all night, my phone was silent. I dusted the dirt off of Brandon’s shirt. It still smelled like him. I neatly folded it and put it on the nightstand. One thing was for sure: If I’d been dreaming, I’d know my werewolf essay was going to my head.

I awoke with a start. I’d just had the best dream ever. It was so clear. Brandon had kissed me in the woods behind his house. It was so passionate and intense it felt like it was happening now. I closed my eyes, not wanting to shake off the dream. I remembered more—Brandon took off his shirt, displaying his ripped chest . . . and then he began turning into a . . .

A wide smile and laughter overcame me. What a weird dream!

I sat up to find Brandon’s shirt folded on my nightstand.

My breath escaped me.

The good news was that the heavenly kiss was real. I squeezed Brandon’s shirt against me. The bad news . . . well, there had to be some real explanation for that. I told myself to just get up and go to school and try to figure this odd event out. As soon as I saw Brandon there, he’d secretly tell me what happened and we’d laugh off the whole thing.

I checked my phone to see if Brandon had tried to contact me. It was then I realized the time. Not only hadn’t Brandon contacted me, but I’d overslept!

Why didn’t anyone wake me? I bolted out of bed and shouted to my family.

When no one answered, I knew my parents had already left for work.

I quickly showered and dried my hair. I grabbed the first two items in my closet and got dressed. I didn’t even have time to make sure they matched. I shoved Brandon’s shirt into my backpack and took off.

I wasn’t about to let anyone get in my way of finding Brandon and the answers to last night’s events.

I managed to sneak into English class just as Mrs. Clark was handing back our graded homework. Brandon’s desk was empty.

“Where have you been?” Ivy questioned me in the tone my mother usually takes. “Your clothes. Green shirt and orange sweater? You look like a pumpkin,” she teased.

“Oh, this?” I asked, just now noticing my mismatched outfit. “I overslept.”

“Well, I guess your fingerless-gloved friend did, too,” she said. “Anything I should know about?”

For a moment I thought Ivy knew about last night. I shot her a look of horror.

“I’m just kidding,” she said.

I was relieved, but only slightly. Brandon hadn’t shown up for class. Since he attended Legend’s Run High he’d never missed a day. I wondered what was keeping him away.

“You skipped the end of last night’s game, too,” she whispered. “Nash has been looking everywhere for you. He wants to make up.”

For the entire period, my attention drifted to the closed classroom door. With each passing minute, it never opened. Where was Brandon? Was he still in the woods, at a hospital, or just home with the flu?

“So, where did you run off to so quickly last night?” Ivy interrogated me when she caught me staring vacantly at my locker. “Your lunch is
here
,” she said, grabbing the sack off the top shelf. “What’s with you? You are so not yourself.”

“I had to do something at home,” I said, shutting my locker. The two of us headed for the cafeteria.

“It couldn’t wait?”

“Ivy,” I began. I hadn’t had a chance to talk to her privately since we’d arrived at school, and I wanted to tell her before the guys and Abby joined us. “Something happened last night,” I confessed.

“Again? Did you encounter another wolf?”

“Yes, how did you know?” I was almost grateful that she might actually understand my strange predicament.

“Are you serious? I was just joking!”

“Oh,” I said, deflated. “Well, truthfully, I think I did.”

We reached the entrance to the cafeteria.

“Celeste. That’s it. I’m not letting you out of my sight. Where were you? In your car?”

“No.”

“In the woods again?” she asked, almost frustrated as we took our seats at our usual table.

“Well . . .”

Just then Abby arrived at the lunchroom with Dylan, Jake, and Nash.

Nash hung back, making it clear he wasn’t along for the fun of it. He was as icy as Brandon’s skating pond.

“I didn’t see you in the stands last night,” he said, taking a place at the opposite end of the table.

“I know. I had to leave,” I said with indifference.

“So if you don’t think it’s important to stay at my games, how are we going to get back together?” he challenged.

It was our typical fight—he wanted me in the stands cheering him on at his practices and games. But there wasn’t more to our relationship. We didn’t have the same interests, and his always won out. It wasn’t like he ever came to the nursing home and volunteered with me.

At the moment I had bigger issues to deal with than a grumpy ex-boyfriend. “I—don’t feel like talking about that again,” I began.

“You should be kind to her.” Ivy butted in. “She just ran into another wolf.”

“A wolf?” Fear shot through his eyes. “Maybe if you stayed at the game the whole time,” he said, “then you wouldn’t be running into wild animals.”

I was encountering wild animals, all right. I just wasn’t sure how it had happened.

Beware of a kiss under the full moon. It will change your life forever.
Dr. Meadows’s words echoed in my mind. Not only had that moonlight kiss possibly transformed Brandon, but it had definitely transformed me. I wasn’t adhering to my usual schedule, nor was I centered on studying, homework, and my friends. I wanted to know more about Brandon, where he was, and, most important, if what I saw last night was real.

But I wasn’t getting any answers. Only heartache.

The moon looked full again tonight. Mr. Worthington was right. I jotted this revelation in the back of my notebook and began keeping a log of what I’d just experienced. The full moon. Brandon’s bizarre behavior, his physical change, and how afterward I was riveted by this suddenly tormented soul.

The following two days Brandon wasn’t at school. On the third day, when he didn’t show for English class again, I was really starting to panic. I couldn’t focus on our lesson, and when Mrs. Clark called on me, I was in another world. I really didn’t know what was going on with Brandon or what to think. I hoped he wasn’t sick. Then I feared he might have moved back to Miller’s Glen. What had happened on the hilltop to change his appearance? Why couldn’t he come to school?

I was zoned out on my way to my locker to get my lunch when someone yanked me into the crawl space underneath the main building’s side stairwell.

Brandon was hanging on to me. He appeared frazzled and tired but as handsome as I’d ever seen him.

I could feel my whole body light up just being in his presence.

I wanted to hug him with all my might, but even though we were out of sight of passing students, I was afraid someone might see us.

“I wanted to talk to you about the other night,” he said.

“Me, too. Are you okay? You haven’t been to school for days.”

“I know. I haven’t been feeling well.”

“Are you better now?”

“I think so . . . I’m not really sure. But about the other night. I want to know something.”

“Yes.”

“After we kissed . . . something happened.”

“Yes, I know,” I said sheepishly. “I was there.”

“I’m sorry—” he began. “For anything that happened . . .”

“So it was a joke?” I asked. “I kept hoping it was.”

I was relieved but totally embarrassed for getting so carried away with my paranormal thoughts and overactive imagination. I replayed my interpretations and feelings of the last few days. I started to laugh. I’d wasted so much time jumping to outlandish conclusions. I was so gullible.

“What do you mean?” he asked, almost confused. “You and me? You thought it was a joke?” His expression softened. It was as if I’d just insulted him.

“No. Not us.” I melted inside. Brandon was so handsome standing before me in the secrecy of the stairwell. “I meant after.”

“That’s what I want to talk to you about. There’s something I want to ask you,” he said earnestly. “I got home and didn’t have some items.”

“What do you mean?” I pressed.

“My shirt. My shoes.”

“I know. I have your shirt,” I confessed.

“You do?”

“Yes. I kept it as proof.” I showed him his folded shirt sandwiched in my bag.

“Proof?”

“That our time together wasn’t a dream. I know . . . you must think I’m a dork.”

“No—I think it’s really cool.” He smiled his gorgeous smile. “Speaking of dreams. I had a weird one that night.”

“Yes?”

“When I woke up . . . I had dirt all over me. I just want to know . . . But I’m ashamed to tell you . . . Did we?” he asked in an honest and heartfelt tone.

Brandon wasn’t referring to being a werewolf. He was referring to something else.

“No—” I assured him. “We didn’t do anything like that.”

“Really?” He was more disappointed than relieved.

“You really don’t remember . . . anything?”

“Just us together under the moonlight. And that awesome kiss.”

This time I smiled.

“But then I remember feeling weird. I think I might have had a fever and blacked out. I was hoping you’d tell me the rest.”

I paused. “You really don’t remember?” I repeated.

He shook his head.

“I’m not sure I can tell you the rest.”

“Why not?”

“If I told you what I witnessed, you’d certainly think I was insane and never want to see me again.” Besides, there was still the chance that I’d misinterpreted what I saw. There were no visible signs on Brandon that he was a werewolf. No scratches, no stubble, no wolflike fangs.

There had to be a third explanation. Brandon had a fever and the moonlight distorted my view of him. All I knew was that I couldn’t wait until another moon to see him again.

“So, can you tell me what happened?” he asked sincerely.

“I’m not sure—”

“Of what?”

“That I really saw what I think I saw . . . and if I didn’t, then you’ll just think I’m crazy.”

“How can I think that?” he asked. “You are popular, studious, and one of the kindest people I’ve ever met.”