Once in a Full Moon Page 19

  “I didn’t know your grandparents had so many dogs,” I said. “I only saw the husky in the window.”

  “They don’t. We only have one dog.”

  “But there’s, like, three over there by the birdbath. And one looks just like Pumpkin, Abby’s dog that’s missing.”

  “You think it might be?” Brandon asked. “My grandma was telling me she keeps finding stray dogs in the yard.”

  I walked behind the main house and noticed a white terrier, a Great Dane, a poodle, and several mutts scurrying around, barking and playing.

  I raced over to the golden retriever and examined the dog’s left ear. Behind some dirt and a few pieces of brush was a white circle. “This is Pumpkin. She has a white mark on her ear!”

  “I don’t know where they came from, but they are always here in the morning. Every few days a new dog. My grandmother has already called a few owners and they’ve come for them. But a few days later, new ones arrive. If they don’t have tags, we’ve been taking care of them. But it’s been weird. I feel like they are . . .”

  “Following you?” I asked. “Like the wolves?”

  He smiled as he looked at his brood of furry admirers.

  “I knew you weren’t destroying people’s pets. Instead you were taking caring of them.”

  Brandon beamed.

  “I can’t believe this, Brandon! You found Pumpkin!” I petted my friend’s dog and snuggled her cute canine face against mine. “She’s been missing for a week. We posted signs all over town.”

  “All over town? I didn’t see any.”

  “Well, along the Eastside.” I felt ashamed. “I think we’ve learned a lesson here. But I have to tell Abby!” I said excitedly. I pulled my phone out from my purse and called my friend.

  “Guess who I have?” I asked in a playful tone.

  “I don’t know,” Abby said in a groggy voice. “It’s too early for jokes.”

  “It starts with a P,” I hinted.

  There was silence on the other end.

  I took a picture of Pumpkin and sent it to Abby’s phone. I could almost hear her screams coming from the east side of town.

  When I arrived at English class, Abby came in and gave me another hug. She’d been squeezing me all morning long, and since she was so toned, I was starting to cave in.

  “I’m getting bruises,” I said.

  Nash, Jake, and Dylan were hanging out by our desks.

  “Abby told me Brandon Maddox found her,” Ivy said.

  “He did,” I said.

  “How did he find her—and more important, how did you find out?”

  “Yes,” Nash said, “how did you find that out from Brandon?”

  “Uh . . .” I was going to tell them the same story I told Abby. “I saw Brandon with Pumpkin. And he told me that if we had put signs on the Westside, she would have been returned sooner.”

  “Are you sure he didn’t steal her?” Nash asked.

  “Why would he? He already has a dog.”

  “How do you know that?” Ivy asked skeptically.

  Just then Brandon walked into class. We all turned to him. Abby rose and went straight over to him.

  “I want to thank you so much for finding my dog,” she said sweetly.

  Then she did the unimaginable. Abby Kensington leaned over and hugged Brandon Maddox in front of the entire English class.

  Dylan folded his arms. Ivy gasped. I high-fived the air. Nash shook his head.

  Brandon appeared more surprised than any of us as Abby returned to her seat.

  “See, I told you he’s not so bad,” I said to my friends. Brandon passed and gave me a quick smile before taking his seat. Nash gave me a stern glare, and he and his teammates sat down.

  “He is handsome underneath all those layers of hair,” Ivy said, obviously not wanting Abby to show her up.

  The bell rang and Mrs. Clark called the names of those who were to share a brief synopsis of their essay with the class. My stomach sank when I heard her say “Celeste Parker.”

  I wasn’t crazy about speaking in front of others. I had participated in some school plays but never as the lead. Most of the students were nice, but I liked when everyone stared at the teacher and not at me.

  Nash seemed proud of me, standing in front of the class. For the first time, I was the star instead of him. It made me feel empowered that he seemed so pleased. I saw Ivy and Abby, who were smiling at me and both giving me the thumbs-up. Then I caught sight of Brandon and my paper shook slightly in my hand.

  “Werewolves,” I said.

  “That’s a timely subject,” Mrs. Clark said.

  “In many centuries and societies, people swear they’ve seen a man who takes the form of a wolf. Others insist the werewolf, like the unicorn, is a figment of man’s imagination.

  “Throughout time, werewolves have been part of many different cultures’ folklore. That might be a kind of mythology to explain abnormal behavior if one is not behaving appropriately for their community. But others believe that the werewolf is not folklore or fiction. I even interviewed a man who claims one of his ancestors was a werewolf.’

  The students perked up.

  “He told me that the bite of a wolf can transform a human into a werewolf and that the affliction can be carried through man’s blood from one generation to another. The person with the link to the wolves can transform once under a full moon. He says there is truth in the stories of the Legend’s Run Werewolf.”

  “Oooh!” I heard someone say.

  “I saw him,” Abby shouted out. Other classmates shushed her.

  “Many students believe they’ve seen him,” I continued. “And I think I’ve seen him, too.”

  “Do you have pictures?” someone asked.

  Mrs. Clark tapped her desk with her pencil.

  “But I’d like to put forth one theory that isn’t popular among the rumors. Just because one takes the lycan form doesn’t mean that they prey on others. They, too, might have a soul. When the full moon is over, they might want to be treated just like you or me.”

  My class applauded me, and as I sat down Brandon gave me an approving wink.

  “Someone has footage of the werewolf,” my mom called from the family room before dinner. “It’s going to be on the five o’clock news.”

  I raced downstairs. If Brandon was in seclusion, this couldn’t be him. Did he break out?

  “It’s going to be on in a minute,” my mom said when I plopped down on the floor in front of the TV.

  Megan Crumley, our local news reporter, was standing outside Penny for Your Thoughts. “Channel Eleven has just learned that Dr. Camille Meadows from Riverside Township has discovered a werewolf and captured it on film,” she began. “As you may have heard, many residents have been claiming they’ve witnessed an unusual creature roaming Legend’s Run at night, and many are calling this creature the Wolfman.

  “With all the werewolf sightings, no one has been able to prove its existence,” she continued.

  Dr. Meadows had warned me if I didn’t bring Brandon to her, she’d go to him. But why wouldn’t she tell me she found him? Why would she go to our local news station first?

  “How were you able to find him?” the reporter asked.

  “I sensed it,” Dr. Meadows said. “I have paranormal abilities and I used them to guide me. I finally got this last week.”

  My heart plummeted. All along, Dr. Meadows had been trying to use Brandon for her own gain.

  “Is that the psychic you spent your allowance on?” my mom asked.

  I held my breath and covered my mouth.

  The film was grainy and dark at best. It looked like it had been filmed with a phone as opposed to a high-end video camera. At first it was out of focus. There was the sound of rustling in the woods. A figure lurked behind a tree; wild and long black hair covered its face. It howled like a wolf. Then the figure dashed out of view. The camera followed, shining its light on several bare trees. Suddenly a sturdy hand swung at the camera
. There was scrambling as we could hear heavy breathing and the camera pointed to the ground as Dr. Meadows ran away.

  “Well, that certainly looks like something to me,” the anchor said. “What, I’m not sure, but you can decide. Click on our website and tell us your thoughts. Wolfman or Prankman?”

  “Replay that,” I said. “I want to see something.”

  I grabbed the remote and rewound the clip. I played it slowly, examining it closely.

  “What are you looking for?” my mom asked.

  The figure swiped at the camera with its right hand. However, when I reviewed it, there wasn’t a scar. No sign of a wolf bite to be seen. It wasn’t Brandon. But that realization raised as many questions as it answered.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Werewolf TV

  After my mom went to her scrapbooking party, I headed for Brandon’s in a hurry.

  “I was on the news,” he said as soon as I got out of the car.

  “But it couldn’t have been you. There wasn’t a scar on your right hand.”

  “What?”

  “I slowed down the footage on the TV,” I said. “When this creature swiped at the camera, there wasn’t a scar.” I took Brandon’s right palm and showed him. “See? You have a major one.”

  “How do you know?” he asked, not convinced by my theory. “Maybe it disappears when I turn. I don’t remember.”

  “But I do remember, and it doesn’t.”

  “Are you sure? If it wasn’t me, then what was it—or who? Another werewolf?”

  “Maybe. Or maybe it was some kids playing jokes. I don’t know. I just know it wasn’t you.”

  Brandon breathed a sigh of relief. He placed his arm around my shoulder and drew me into him.

  “I’ve never met anyone like you,” he said.

  “The sun is setting,” I warned. “What do you want to do now?”

  “I can’t stay in that box forever. I don’t know what to do.”

  I hugged him.

  “And more important, Celeste, how are we going to be together?”

  “Maybe it’s time you go back to the way you were living. Free, like anyone else. Werewolf or not.”

  “I’m not sure . . . I’d rather not take any chances.”

  I admired Brandon’s values. With everything he had to worry about, the first thing on his mind was the well-being of the town.

  Brandon kissed me tenderly, and I fought off my incredible desire to be locked away all night with him inside his safe house.

  As another full moon approached, I met Ivy, Abby, their beaux, and Nash at Wings and Things. If I couldn’t be on the end of Brandon’s lips, then at least I would be surrounded by my friends.

  “That’s what I saw,” Abby insisted to Ivy when I arrived at their table. “I swear.”

  “That wasn’t a werewolf,” Ivy charged. “Werewolves have hair all over their faces.”

  No they don’t, I wanted to say. Brandon sported a handsome goatee.

  “Well, this one didn’t,” Abby stated. “I don’t know why you don’t believe me.”

  Ivy paused. “I do. Not that I believe in werewolves, but I believe you saw something,” she said sincerely.

  I thought Ivy had finally realized that the whole werewolf thing was putting a strain on her relationship with Abby. And she was all about keeping us together as a friendly unit.

  “Where have you been?” Ivy asked me.

  “I had a million things to do.”

  “Did you see the werewolf on TV?” Abby asked. My friends were already well into their wings, so I got to pick at their leftovers.

  “Yes. Did it look like a hoax to you?” Ivy asked.

  “I’m not sure,” I said truthfully. I knew it wasn’t Brandon, but I didn’t know if there was someone else turning at nightfall when the full moon had waned. “I only know it wasn’t any of us, since we’re all here after sunset.”

  “I still think that Brandon Maddox might have something to do with this,” Ivy observed.

  Abby’s face lit up. “Maybe it is him. Maybe the Legend’s Run Werewolf is Brandon.”

  Everyone paused.

  “I told you,” Ivy said. “I saw him stare at those wolves. It wasn’t like anything I’ve seen on Animal Planet. This was like something Dr. Meadows would do.”

  “There you go again,” Jake said. “I think you must have a thing for that guy. It’s all you ever talk about . . . Brandon and the wolves.”

  “Well, he’s also saving dogs,” Abby said. “If he is a werewolf, he’s a good one.”

  “What do you think, Celeste?” Ivy asked. “You’re always defending the underdog.”

  “I guess you figured it out. Brandon Maddox is a werewolf.”

  They all laughed, and this time I did, too.

  “Either way, there is something strange going on and it’s best we all stick together,” Nash encouraged.

  “Speaking of that . . .” Ivy said, “we have to go, but Nash can drive you home.”

  As if on cue, Abby, Jake, Dylan, and Ivy rose while Nash remained seated.

  “I thought you were driving me home,” I said under my breath.

  “This way you and Nash can have some alone time now that you guys are back together.”

  “Back together?” I asked.

  “Since this werewolf thing, he has really been there for you,” Ivy said. “It’s just like old times.”

  My friends paid the bill, and Nash and I got into his car. He even opened the door for me. The way he was suddenly being a gentleman was endearing. But I felt awkward as he drove me home. Though he was usually self-centered, I knew there was an inner side to him that he didn’t share with other girls. He parked in front of my house.

  “Celeste—” he said.

  The car was dark, which only added to the appeal of his handsome features. Normally, he would have leaned into me and I would have gotten a melt-worthy kiss.

  But since we’d broken up, we hadn’t shared any romantic gestures.

  “Yes?” I finally said.

  Nash pulled off his class ring. “I want you to have this,” he said.

  It was sweet. Nash was attractive, by any girl’s standards. If this had happened a few months ago, I would have taken it without missing a beat. But I wasn’t going to commit to Nash. Even if it were the smart thing to do, even if it didn’t make sense to love a guy who I couldn’t see at night and couldn’t be embraced by in front of my friends by day. But my heart had been taken by such a guy, and I couldn’t go against it.

  He held out the ring and it shone under the streetlight.

  “You can try it on,” he said. “It may need to be resized.”

  I felt so bad. Nash was my friend, but I couldn’t give him my heart, and I couldn’t take his ring.

  “There is a part of me that wants this ring, Nash,” I said. “I’d be the luckiest girl at school.”

  He scooted closer to me and I looked away.

  “But . . .” he said.

  “I’m just not—”

  “I’ve seen this in movies,” he said. Nash wasn’t used to being turned down. He wasn’t the kind of guy who rejection was likely to happen to. It tore me up inside to be the one who hurt him—especially since I cared about him.

  “I’m not saying I don’t care for you. You know I do,” I said.

  “I know,” he said. “I’ll just give you some more time.”

  Nash wasn’t used to losing. He made a point of letting me know the game wasn’t over yet.

  However, in his frustration, he reached to unzip his duffel bag and threw the ring into it.

  I saw something dark and hairy coming out of the bag. I screamed.

  “What?” he said. He jumped back, too.

  “It’s a squirrel!” I pressed my whole body against the passenger-side door.

  He, too, scooted away. He quickly opened his car door and jumped out. The overhead car light illuminated the inside. Something furry was sticking out of his duffel bag.

 
“That—” I said. “It’s alive!”

  “This?” he said, pointing to the bag. “It’s nothing.”

  I peered into the bag and grabbed the dark fur. He tried to stop my hand, but it was too late. I pulled out a wild wig.

  “It’s an old Halloween costume. Here—” he said, stuffing it back into his bag. “Let me walk you to the door.”

  Nash had never walked me to the door before. He just didn’t want me to see the costume inside the duffel bag, but it was too late.

  I got out of the car, and he met me on the sidewalk.

  “It was you,” I said.

  He smiled sheepishly. “Me? What?”

  “All along.”

  He continued to grin a boyish grin.

  “Scaring Heidi. And Abby? Being on TV?”

  He looked like he couldn’t tell if I was going to hug him or slug him. I didn’t do either. Instead I just shook my head.

  “I did it for you,” he said.

  “I don’t understand—”

  “It brought you to me. We’ve been hanging out together like old times. We’ve been so happy, all of us together. And you and I . . . It’s just like when we first went out. I told you I’d show you that you needed me, Celeste. I just had to show you how much.”

  I was furious. Nash had put the entire town on alert and caused Brandon to be locked away for weeks. But then I realized the lengths to which Nash had gone to get my attention. We were hanging out as a sixsome again. For some reason, I was the only one who saw the fear in Nash’s face and knew that there was another layer to his superjock image. I knew that is why he needed me more than he needed the other girls at school, and I had to admit that it was nice to be needed.

  “Why couldn’t you have just been thoughtful, Nash?” I asked. “That’s all I ever wanted from you. I just wanted you to really be interested in me and the things I care about. You didn’t have to pretend to be a werewolf so you could be the hero.”

  He took my hands in his. “But it worked, didn’t it? We’re practically back together.”

  Before I could step away, he drew me into him and kissed me.

  I turned and wiped my mouth off.

  He smiled at the success of his ruse.

  “This will remain between the two of us?” he asked.

  “There’s no one I want to tell,” I said.