Once in a Full Moon Page 10

  “Brandon?” I called.

  I scaled the hill and was almost out of breath when I reached the top.

  Brandon, in his brown leather jacket, was doing his best to chop wood. He struggled because of his wounded hand. He swore under his breath and shook out his hand in pain.

  Then he caught sight of me. Startled, he jumped. “I didn’t see you there,” he said.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “No—I’m glad you came.”

  “You hurt your hand again—”

  “Oh—it’s nothing. I’m really surprised to see you,” he said. “I guess that scarf is really important to you. To leave the game . . .”

  “Oh, yeah,” I said. “The scarf.”

  “But you’re wearing another one,” he said, pointing to my green-and-white-striped one. “How many do you have?”

  I didn’t answer, I just stood nervously.

  “I’ll get your things for you. I just have to adjust this.”

  He stacked the broken pieces of wood with his good hand.

  I didn’t care about the scarf. I only cared about him. I wanted Brandon to touch me so badly and I wanted to touch him, too—to feel his embrace and lips against mine. I wasn’t about to make the first move, and neither was he apparently. It wasn’t my personality to be so romantically forward.

  “Do you need help?” I finally asked.

  “No, you sit down. It will just be a minute.”

  I sat on the chopping log.

  Was he stalling so that I’d have to stay with him in the woods longer?

  I rubbed my shoulder. If something didn’t happen soon, I was going to scream.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked.

  “Just tension,” I said.

  “What do you have to be tense about?”

  “Oh, everything, I guess. School. Tests. Boys.”

  “Boys?” he said. “Ah . . . that is stressful. Here, let me,” he said, and came around behind me. “Your scarf is in the way. Do you mind?”

  “Uh . . . no.”

  He peeled away my scarf and pressed his hand against my skin. My flesh tingled in his warm, strong hand. I was so in heaven, finally having Brandon being so close to me. Before I knew it, I felt his lips against my neck.

  I was so overwhelmed I was afraid I’d fall off the chopping block and melt into the snow.

  Suddenly Brandon stood in front of me and extended his good hand.

  I stared up at him, his royal blue eyes shining down at me. I took his hand, stood, and he drew me close to him. Even through our heavy coats, I could feel the heat from our bodies pressed together. Overhead the clouds drifted apart, exposing a perfectly full moon.

  The moon glimmered above us, magically illuminating us. When I’d looked at a moon like this before, it had always been when I’d felt alone—now it seemed to be smiling at me, as I was finally under its romantic glow.

  I remembered Dr. Meadows warning me about the full moon. Beware of a kiss under the full moon. It will change your life forever. She had been right about the snow, the woods, howling, and an outsider. But what was the chance that she was correct about the rest? And what did it mean, really? I was so attracted to Brandon, I didn’t know what to do.

  “What? Is something wrong?” he asked.

  “Oh, just something someone said. About the moon.”

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Just like . . .”

  He gently glided my hair away from my face.

  “I’ve been wanting to do this since I first saw you,” he said.

  It was then he leaned into me and did what I’d been dying for him to do for so long. Since he first looked at me in Mrs. Clark’s class, passed me in the hallways, and saved me in the woods. Brandon kissed me. His lips were so tender I thought I was in a dream.

  It felt like nothing I’d ever experienced before. Deeper and more soulful than when I kissed Nash.

  Something truly special had happened to me after seventeen years of living in Legend’s Run. I’d fallen in love.

  I began giggling with delight as Brandon wrapped his arms around me.

  “What’s so funny?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. I’m just so happy.”

  “I am, too.”

  I was in heaven in Brandon’s strong arms. I didn’t want to go back to the game. I didn’t want this moment to ever end.

  He caressed my cheek, and we kissed again so passionately I thought I’d gone to heaven.

  I leaned my head against his chest and he stroked his fingers through my hair. I could feel his heart pounding as fast as a bullet train. I gazed up and saw he wore a soft smile.

  The full moon shone strong. He continued to stroke my hair and then kissed my neck and ears. My body tingled as his lips tickled my skin.

  We kissed again, but suddenly he drew away.

  “I don’t have to leave,” I said, referring to the game.

  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.