Once in a Full Moon(7)

As Ivy and Abby waved me over, I slunk back to my desk. When Mrs. Clark introduced the new student as Brandon Maddox, I wasn’t about to turn around and make eye contact with him again.

Legend’s Run High School’s lunchroom was a microcosm of Legend’s Run itself. Students stuck to their sides and, like religious sects, were subdivided. The usual gamers, jocks, skaters, and preps each had their own table.

Lunch, for me, was the highlight of the school day. I got to hang out with my friends and talk and eat—two of my favorite things.

When I reached the cafeteria, Ivy pulled Abby and me over to the vending machine.

“I finally have the four-one-one on the new guy,” she began. “I heard he’s a Westsider.”

“Obviously,” Abby said. “Did you see his coat?”

“There was nothing wrong with his coat. I liked it—” I tried. “Besides, you didn’t have to—”

“Do you two want to hear this or not?” Ivy asked.

“Of course we do,” Abby replied.

“He lives with his grandparents,” Ivy began. “I think he’s from Miller’s Glen and was kicked out of his home. He’s a juvie—”

“I heard he’s a runaway,” Abby said, placing a dollar into the machine.

“You did?” Ivy felt challenged that she wasn’t on top of the breaking news story.

“Yes. A runaway,” Abby said. She pushed a cola button and grabbed her diet soda.

“I heard he’s a juvie,” Ivy argued.

“I heard he’s a runaway,” Abby insisted.

“I heard . . .” I started.

“Yes?” they asked curiously.

“I heard that he’s . . .”

“Go on . . .” they pried.

“I heard that he’s a . . . werewolf!”

They both were aghast. “You did not!”

“That can’t be true,” Abby said. “I didn’t hear that.”

“Who told you that?” Ivy pressed.

I snickered. “Hello, are you kidding?”

Then we all broke out in laughter.

As we continued to crack up, I spotted Brandon sitting at a back table in the corner, alone. He was eating a sandwich and reading a book. The tables around him were filled, crowded with students gabbing and letting loose on their lunch break. This might have been my favorite part of the day, but for him, it must have been the most lonesome. My giggling subsided. I felt a huge ache in the pit of my stomach. It must be horribly lonely and difficult to come to a new school with no real friends—especially a school as cliquey as ours. And I felt ashamed that my two friends had been so unwelcoming.

I thought about going over to him and apologizing for my friends’ behavior when two strong arms wrapped around my waist.

Suddenly I was lifted off the ground and swung around. I noticed a familiar class ring.

“Nash! Get off,” I cried.

“What are you staring at?” he questioned, letting me down. “You should be staring at me.”

He spun me so I faced him and he kissed me. Nash was a great kisser; for a brief moment I forgot where I was. But then it dawned on me. I wasn’t in the privacy of a moonlit goodnight kiss, but rather I was in the middle of the lunchroom with two hundred hungry gawkers.

I was never comfortable with Nash’s public displays of affection. It always felt as if he was only being demonstrative to prove his bravado to the student body rather than showing the unbridled passion of an amorous boyfriend.

He released me. I was dizzy—not so much from the kiss but from his spinning me. When my double vision returned to normal, I realized I was staring right across the lunchroom at Brandon. I sensed he’d been watching me the whole time.

There was something riveting about him, unusual, and different. I wasn’t sure why I felt embarrassed in front of Brandon more so than the other students watching us. All I knew was that I did. I wiped my mouth with my sleeve, sat down at our table with my back toward the new student, and distracted myself with a low-carb lunch and wonderfully inane conversation.





Chapter Four

Walking with a Werewolf



Pine Tree Village Retirement Community was a nondescript two-story brown brick building that could have doubled for an apartment building. It included assisted living, independent units, and a full nursing wing and was about ten minutes north from my house.

I enjoyed volunteering at the nursing home. If I had a dismal day at school or was struggling with Nash, I forgot my worries. These seniors were very different from the seniors at my school. Most of the residents were happy to see a fresh, young face. And even though many of them told me the same story over and over, it was interesting to hear the tales of past generations in Legend’s Run or cities and countries I’d never visited.