Magic of the Moonlight

by Ellen Schreiber

  “Me too!”

  We squeezed each other so hard I knew that she, too, had really missed me during the days we’d spent apart.

  “I love these earrings,” she said. She quickly took off the gazillion-dollar ones she was wearing and replaced them with the ones I’d bought for her.

  “I’m so glad you do,” I said, relieved we were back to normal. The blue crystals shined brightly against her lustrous blond hair.

  “I wanted to tell you,” I said.

  “I shouldn’t have made fun of him,” she apologized.

  Abby stood with her arms folded as Ivy and I ended our feud.

  I was so happy to have my friend back, I almost teared up.

  We headed into class and chatted like we’d been doing every day since elementary school until the ringing bell ceased our gossip session.

  FOURTEEN

  a new nightmare

  Before I got to the cafeteria, Nash pulled me aside. “I have to talk to you about something.”

  “Are you going to tell me who painted Brandon’s Jeep?” I asked. “Because I already know.”

  My former boyfriend paused for a moment with a quizzical look. “No, that’s not it. I really need to talk to you.”

  “All right,” I said. He led me into the empty speech and drama classroom. A rack of clothes and boxes of shoes and accessories were stacked at the back of the room. Nash and I sat in chairs face-to-face, so closely our knees were touching.

  “So what’s going on?” I asked.

  “I can’t sleep,” he whispered.

  “I know—you haven’t really been yourself lately. But I’ve had a lot on my mind with my fight with Ivy—so I’m sorry I didn’t ask you about it earlier. How’s your arm?”

  “I think I’m going to have a scar for sure. But the problem is I’ve been having trouble sleeping. I think I’m having post-traumatic stress or something.”

  “I’m sure you are. It’s understandable.”

  “So you think that’s it?”

  “Yes. It was traumatic. It was awful for me just seeing you being attacked,” I said truthfully. “I’m sure for you it was horrendous.”

  “I just can’t shake that night,” he said with a far-off look. “Ever since, I’ve felt really odd.”

  Odd? That didn’t sound good. “What do you mean?”

  From his furrowed expression, I could tell he was worried. “I have these bizarre dreams, and I wake up really exhausted.”

  Dreams? “Maybe it’s the medications for your bite.”

  “You think so?” he asked as if he hadn’t thought of that himself. “I hope so.”

  “Maybe you should see the school nurse,” I offered.

  “She’ll send me to a shrink.”

  “Why would she send you to a shrink over dreams? We all have wild dreams.”

  He placed his hand on top of mine. “I dream about that night,” he said.

  I didn’t want to hear any more. “You’ve always had a fear of wolves,” I consoled him. “It’s only natural to—”

  But he didn’t take his hand away. “I know if I tell you—you won’t say anything to Ivy or Abby.”

  “Of course not, but you don’t have to tell me. I don’t think I really want to know.”

  His grasped my hand intently. “I dream I’m a wolf,” he said.

  My heart plummeted to the pit of my stomach. Oh no, I thought. Not again. Not Nash!

  “Isn’t that weird?” he asked, a bit shaken. “Odd? Bizarre?”

  “It’s probably just nerves,” I said, trying to reassure him as much as I was trying to reassure myself. I wasn’t about to accept the alternative—that Nash could be experiencing what Brandon had before he turned into a . . .

  “But to be safe, why don’t we go to the nurse?” I said.

  Nash took both of my hands in his. They were strong and a little rugged from playing sports. “This feels like before,” he said, “when we were dating. I’m not sure why I always messed it up with you. I know it sounds cliché . . . but you are the best thing that ever happened to me.”

  His words were so honest and caring that it really did shake me inside.

  I laughed nervously. I didn’t know what to say. These were the best moments, when Nash’s armor was removed and I could see deep down in his soul. I always sensed that he didn’t share his truest thoughts or emotions with other girls—that, for some reason, he only shared his fears and dreams with me. It was something I wished he would have confessed and realized when we were dating.

  But now wasn’t the time to consider his romantic feelings for me. I had to get him to the nurse to see if his dreams and strange feelings might just be the result of an infection from the wolf bite.

  The nurse didn’t find anything out of the ordinary with Nash and sent him back to class. I was relieved, but only slightly.

  After school, when Brandon and I were alone on the hilltop, I shared Nash’s confession with him. “Nash told me he’s been having strange dreams.”

  “About you? I see how he is trying to make his comeback with you.”

  “No, it’s worse than that.”

  “What could be worse than that?”

  “He dreams he’s a wolf.”

  “You don’t think . . .” Brandon looked concerned.

  “It’s not possible. You are related to the Legend’s Run werewolf, Nash isn’t.”

  “Then I’m sure it’s nothing. Just bad dreams.”

  “That would be awesome,” I said. “But I just wanted you to know.”

  “I’m glad you told me. There’s something I want you to know, too.”

  “What?”

  “I got word from my dad today,” Brandon said enthusiastically. “He told me he’s getting close to an antidote.”

  “You’re kidding!” I exclaimed.

  “Wouldn’t it be great if he had something for me before the next full moon?”

  I rested my head against his chest.

  “It’s funny,” he said. “I think I might miss it. There is some part of me that seems to crave those nights.”

  “I guess it’s in your blood.”

  “And the way you look under the full moonlight. It’s extraordinary.”

  “Well, if you don’t mind my saying, I think I’d miss it, too.”

  He leaned in and kissed me. There was a tiny part of me that hoped Dr. Maddox took his time with the cure.

  Brandon and I took our school relationship slowly. Though Ivy and Abby knew about Brandon, we were still concerned not to go public until his condition was cured. The vandalism stopped, but the teasing didn’t. We heard “Wolfie,” “Wolfman,” and “Werewolf” muttered under Eastside students’ breath as we walked down the halls, and I didn’t want it to become worse if they found out the truth. I wasn’t so worried that Nash might reveal the secret, since he seemed to be preoccupied and recovering from his own trauma regarding the attack. However, I didn’t want to make life even worse for Brandon. An Eastsider dating a Westsider would be major news in our school, and though I didn’t want to hide it anymore, I knew for Brandon’s sake that we had to wait for the cure.

  Nash continued to show up to class restless and irritable. But as the days wore on, he became increasingly interested in me. Even when I told him I only wanted his friendship, he didn’t waver in his attention. Nash didn’t use the threat of revealing Brandon’s secret as an attempt to win me back, but rather this time he tried chivalrous and charismatic actions. He was more charming to me than he ever had been. And though Nash opened doors for me, texted and called me, and mostly ignored every other girl who came his way, it didn’t change my feelings. I had one heart, and it was meant for Brandon.

  FIFTEEN

  the cure

  Moonlight Dance flyers and signs were posted all around the school. The annual dance welcomed in the beginning of spring and was an event every student hoped to attend.

  I was eyeing a poster while I was waiting to meet Ivy and Abby after class and dreaming
of what it would be like to be Brandon’s date. He’d wear a stunning sport coat, and I’d wear a tea-length dress that shimmered like diamonds. Everyone would watch us dance together as the moonlight shined above.

  Then I realized—the moonlight. I pulled out my calendar and frantically flipped through the pages. And there it was—staring at me in the face—FULL MOON. Brandon would be a werewolf that night. My heart plummeted to my shoes.

  Suddenly someone tweaked my sides and I screamed.

  “You are so easily spooked!” Nash said.

  “Uh . . . I was just . . .”

  “Thinking about the dance?”

  “Uh . . . I guess.”

  “I was, too. And I wanted to know if you’d be my date.”

  I was shocked. I certainly didn’t think he’d ask me, knowing I had feelings for Brandon. And I assumed he would be taking Heidi Rosen.

  “I figured you wouldn’t be going with you-know-who,” he said, “being that it will be a full moon and all. Do you already have a date?”

  Nash had me trapped. Brandon hadn’t even asked me yet. I didn’t know what to say. “Well . . . uh . . . no,” I said truthfully. “But—”

  “Great, then you’ll go with me,” he said triumphantly.

  Before I could stop him, Nash kissed me on the cheek and said, “I’ll get tickets,” and took off down the hall.

  I was left standing there, dumbfounded, when Ivy and Abby arrived.

  “Well, then everything will be back to normal,” Ivy said when I told her what happened.

  Even though we were fine, she still longed for us to remain a sixsome—the original sixsome.

  “I’m not so sure. I really wanted to go with Brandon.” I was relieved I no longer had to hide my affection for the Westsider from my friends and was happy to admit the truth to them, even if I’d gotten myself in a jam.

  “Did Brandon ask you?” Abby wondered excitedly.

  “No,” I said. “The signs were just posted. It’s his first year here—so he wouldn’t even know about the dance.”

  “Well, it seems to me that you’re in quite a pickle!” Abby said.

  Brandon caught up to me after fifth bell. He seemed really excited about something. “I wanted to talk to you,” he said brightly. “Do you have a minute?”

  “Yes.” I couldn’t think of anything I’d rather be doing than be with Brandon, and anything could be put off till later to make that happen.

  We stepped into an empty alcove next to the library.

  “I saw the signs about a Moonlight Dance coming up,” he said.

  “Oh?” I said.

  “I wanted to check with you—before anyone else had a chance to ask you. You can say no—since I’m a Westsider and all,” he said with a cute smile, “but would you want to go to the Moonlight Dance with me?”

  “I’d love to!” I blurted out.

  “Great!” he said.

  “But there’s one problem,” we both said in unison.

  We both laughed.

  “You first,” he said. Brandon gazed down at me lovingly.

  “No, you,” I said.

  “It will be a full moon—” he began.

  “I know.”

  “But . . . I’m hoping my dad will have sent me the antidote by then. And we’ll be good to go.”

  “Oh . . . okay.”

  “Now what is your problem?” he asked me.

  “Uh . . .” I couldn’t bring myself to tell him about the Nash situation.

  “It’s okay, you can tell me.”

  “I don’t have anything to wear!”

  After school, Ivy, Abby, and I went to the mall in search of dresses for the Moonlight Dance. My friends were thrilled to have any excuse to shop.

  “So, Celeste, you can buy one dress to wear for Nash and one to wear for Brandon,” Abby teased.

  “Maybe you should pick Nash,” Ivy said. “Maybe it will rekindle your feelings for him again.”

  Abby and Ivy found tons of dresses to try on while I still sifted through the racks trying to find one that I thought might look all right.

  “At least pick something,” Ivy said.

  I saw a teal blue dress with a thin black belt. It was gorgeous. Then I noticed the price. My heart almost burst through my chest.

  “I can wear one of Juliette’s,” I said.

  “Whatever!” Ivy took the dress from my hand and somehow managed to drape it over her other ones and teetered her way to the dressing room.

  I reluctantly followed behind.

  Abby modeled a lavender strapless while Ivy posed in a blue dress. I could see my two friends looked amazing as I peered from my dressing-room door.

  “Come on over here!” Abby said.

  I tiptoed out in my bare feet.

  “You look gorgeous!” Abby shouted.

  “You have to buy it!” Ivy cheered.

  “So, you’ll wear this with Nash,” Ivy said.

  “I think it will match Brandon’s eyes,” Abby said.

  I imagined my old self, happy that Nash was paying me so much attention and generously making all efforts to be there for me. And I imagined my new self with Brandon, happier than I’d ever been—but torn for the guy who had to hide from a full moon.

  The one thing I couldn’t have imagined was the predicament I was in now. Movie or TV stars might have these problems, but not someone like me.

  It was a week before the dance and Nash appeared to be feeling great. His bandage and stitches were removed and he was able to play baseball. He showed off his scar, while Brandon continued to hide his under his fingerless gloves. I was relieved that my former boyfriend seemed not only back to normal but was more enthusiastic and happy than I’d seen him in months. I tried to tell him about Brandon and the dance, but every time I broached the subject, he either dismissed it or changed the topic. I wasn’t sure if maybe he already knew and was just trying to avoid the situation.

  Nash was my friend—and my first boyfriend—and I wasn’t the type to feel good when hurting others. I wanted to proceed with caution in telling him. Nash was more focused on me than when we dated. He made a point to ignore Heidi Rosen and was attentive toward me. I had to wait for the right moment to convince him I would be attending the dance with Brandon.

  “You have to come over,” Brandon said one day after school.

  His tone was urgent and emphatic. I was nervous about what could be so important that Brandon would have me come over immediately.

  When I arrived at his guesthouse, Brandon didn’t even kiss me, but instead, enthusiastically led me to his desk. An open shipping box was sitting on it, with brown mailing paper lying next to it. The postmark was from Geneva.

  “Here it is,” he said.

  “What is it?”

  “The antidote.” He led me over to the desk.

  “You’re kidding!”

  “No,” he said, pleased.

  “What do you do with it?” I asked. I didn’t touch the small, oil-filled vial but rather examined it from a safe distance.

  He took it out of the box. “I drink it.”

  “It doesn’t look like it would taste very good.”

  “I guess not,” he said with a laugh.

  “So, when do you take it?”

  “Just as the sun sets on the next full moon,” he said, placing it back in the box.

  “This is great news!”

  “Yes. Then we can go to the dance the following night.”

  “And we can date at school!”

  We embraced. He picked me up and swung me around.

  “So how did Nash react when you told him you were going with me?”

  “Uh . . .” I said as I got my bearings.

  “You haven’t told him yet?” he asked.

  “I’ve been trying to—”

  “You have to tell him,” he said.

  “I know,” I said, ashamed of myself.

  “Do you want me to tell him?” he asked, towering over me.

  “I’m n
ot sure that’s the best idea.”

  “I figured not,” he said with a clever grin.

  He took my hand and led me back to the vial.

  “There is one issue, however. My dad says the antidote hasn’t been tested on humans. Well . . . for obvious reasons. He doesn’t know any other werewolves.”

  “I guess not.”

  “Since it hasn’t been tested, he says there is a small chance . . . that it will have the opposite outcome.”

  “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “There is a small chance that it can make me a werewolf full-time.”

  “That’s a huge risk!” I said.

  “I wanted you to know.”

  “So you could be a werewolf under any moon?”

  “Yes,” he answered.

  “What will you do?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. What would you do?”

  I wondered what I’d do. Of course, I wouldn’t want to be a werewolf even three times a month—so I surely wouldn’t want to be one every night. But Brandon? I wasn’t sure what to tell him I’d do.

  “I don’t know. . . .” I said. “I really don’t know.”

  “On the one hand, there’s the chance I can be normal,” he pondered. “And we could be together. On the other, I could never be normal and we could . . .”

  I gazed at him. Never have a future together? I thought. “It is a decision you have to make, Brandon,” I said, hugging him and trying to comprehend the magnitude of the situation. “I’ll support you either way.”

  The following morning at school, I approached Nash. I knew he was going to be hurt and upset when I told him I wouldn’t be able to go with him to the Moonlight Dance—and instead would be showing up with Brandon. But I had to tell him and this time let nothing get in my way.

  “I need to talk to you,” I said, finding him as he headed toward baseball practice.

  “Me too,” he said. He shot me a sexy stare and leaned on his bat. “I heard you got your dress with Ivy and Abby.”

  “They told you?” I asked. I assumed my friends wouldn’t blab the information about their dresses to the guys—but mine? This was going to be even harder than I thought.

  “Uh-huh. I know you are going to look gorgeous.”