Secrets of the Moon

by Kristy Centeno

  Because of all this, my parents no longer took it easy on me, and now that I was an adult, they were even stricter. Even though I was nineteen they had me on a curfew, which meant I was home most of the time. And since I was living in their house I had no choice but to follow their rules, rules quite frankly I didn’t see fit to disobey. I put my family through a lot and was too ashamed to go against their wishes. I loved my parents and I didn’t want to put them through any more pain.

  As Tracy and Claire continued to chat, I chose to stare out the window in silence for the rest of the drive to campus. What surprises would this day bring? Not many, I guessed. In this middle-of-nowhere town nothing sensational ever happened. The most exciting thing that occurred in Wolf Creek Hollow in the past ten years was our car accident, which hadn’t been the least bit thrilling from my perspective.

  Minutes later we arrived, and just in time for our eight a.m. classes. Claire, Tracy, and I dispersed to our respective classrooms upon entering the building, agreeing to meet later on for lunch.

  Usually, I’d sit in one of the chairs at the first row of tables, since I barely made it in time for class; but today the only available seats were at the back—where no one likes to sit because it’s too far away from the writing board. No one paid attention to me as I scooted by to the back of the classroom and grabbed one of the empty seats at the last row of tables. The seat to the left of me was empty and everyone else had chosen their seats, so I was a little relieved that I wouldn’t be sharing the table with anyone. I wasn’t in the mood for small talk, so sitting alone came as a bonus.

  When a few moments had gone by and no one else showed up, the teacher began his lecture for the day. With book, notebook, and pen in hand, I began to take notes of what the teacher was either saying or writing on the board, when the door opened and someone stepped inside. I was too busy going over what I wrote so I didn’t bother to look up to see who’d entered the classroom. I automatically assumed it was probably a student running late. However, the sound of loud gasps rushing through the otherwise silent room caused me to look up to see what the commotion was all about.

  That was the first time I saw him. My gaze automatically drifted toward the silver-colored orbs he had for eyes. Never in my life had I seen eyes like those. It wasn’t just the color of them that was strange and incredibly alluring but the way he looked around the room also, as if searching for prey. Where that thought came from I had no idea, but I did agree that the description match him to a T.

  The instructor spoke softly to him, but the boy only nodded several times, not even bothering to look at him. I thought that rude until I noticed he was too busy looking at…me.

  My cheeks started to burn as he kept staring at me with those dangerously sensual eyes. No one had ever observed me that way before and it made me slightly uneasy. His quiet stare made me feel hot and uncomfortable all at once. After a silent staring contest, I turned my eyes away from him and decided to stare at the notes in front of me instead.

  His eyes were intense, too much for me to handle without feeling as if I was going to be burned alive right on the spot. Good grief, no one ever had this mammoth effect on me before.

  He was so different from the young men from around here. His demeanor held a hint of arrogance, boldness, and indifference unlike anything I’d perceived. Sure, some guys tended to act that way, but he took it up a notch. I took note of his dress code too: all-black casual wear—black hoodie, black shirt, black pants, black boots. Even his backpack was black. I could have easily accused him of being some kind of rock and roll groupie or maybe even a Goth-loving fan, but he didn’t appear to fit into either category.

  However, the dark clothing only made his look more mysterious and it definitely brought out the color of his eyes even more. He was tall, too, very tall. If I had to guess what his height was, I would say six-foot-one or something close to that. His chestnut-colored hair was long, down to his shoulders, and he wore it lose. Something about him clearly screamed bad boy.

  “Thank you, Kyran, there’s an empty seat next to Marjorie there.” Mr. Scalon pointed toward me.

  Oh shit! He’s coming this way.

  Despite the self-consciousness hitting me like a slap to the face, I couldn’t stop myself from staring at him, while he leisurely strolled toward the last row of tables where I happened to be sitting, and apparently neither could every other girl in the room. Some girls did little to hide exactly what they were thinking. Girls could be just as perverted as boys.

  The boy named Kyran reached the table where I was seated and pulled out the empty chair beside mine. He sat down, looking oddly comfortable in his seat, while I sat so stiffly my back hurt.

  Irene McAllister, who was sitting at the table in front of ours, immediately turned around to face Kyran and smiled that slutty smile of hers. “Well, hello there, stranger, you must be new in town.”

  Duh! Leave it to her to point out the obvious.

  “Yes, I am.” He addressed her only for a moment before turning his gaze back to Mr. Scalon and his lecture. It was obvious the guy had no interest in starting a conversation with her, but Irene either didn’t take the hint or just didn’t care.

  “That’s great. We love new people.” And by we she meant she liked new people, especially if they were boys—fresh meat.

  Trying to pay attention to my English Comp teacher was nearly impossible with Irene babbling, trying to impress Mr. Anti-Social sitting next to me. He merely nodded and turned his attention back to the teacher, ignoring Irene’s comment.

  The girl didn’t even flinch at his indifference. “So, where did you move out here from?” she asked.

  “Iowa,” he said curtly.

  And just like that I noticed his accent, a light inflection that indicated he wasn’t from the great U.S. of A.

  Irene wasted no time asking another question. “Great. How long have you been in town?”

  Geez woman, take a hint.

  “Two weeks.”

  “Fantastic. Oh, God. Where are my manners? My name is Irene McAllister.”

  “Hello, Irene.”

  He turned away again without offering her his name and my mouth nearly dropped open in shock. Honestly, had I been treated the same way he treated Irene just now, I would have picked up my face from the floor and walked away with as much dignity as I could muster. Then again, Irene wasn’t me.

  “Miss McAllister, would you like to stand up here and take over the class for me?” Mr. Scalon’s voice went up as he called out to Irene with the rest of the class waiting and watching.

  Irene turned toward him with a scowl. “I was just trying to welcome the new guy. Is that a crime?”

  “There will be plenty of time for that between classes.”

  Everyone started to murmur and mutter things I couldn’t make out.

  “Now class, settle down. I wanted to point out a temporary rule of mine. Since classes started, I have been getting new students every day like clockwork, then I’m having students from this class dropping out to take other classes and, well, I’m old, and quite frankly it’s a little annoying trying to learn all your names, then have to learn new ones and forget old ones. Until classes settle down for sure, I’ll be assigning seats. So remember where you’re sitting now, because for the next few weeks that’ll be your permanent seat.”

  Despite the protesters’ attempts to change Mr. Scalon’s mind over our seating arrangements, he didn’t budge on his decision.

  “Now, now, we’re all adults here. Deal with it,” he said in a teasing but serious tone. “Now let’s get on with the rest of the class, shall we?”

  Irene giggled with excitement as she turned back to look at “the new guy”. As Mr. Scalon resumed the lecture I was having trouble following, I tried not to notice the handsome hunk sitting to my left. Well, at least I tried to pretend indifference to his presence. I couldn’t say the same thing about every other girl in the room. Even the weird, nerdy-looking, and supposed-lesbian girls star
ed at him. So he was gorgeous; that still was no reason for me to gawk at him as if he was my favorite dessert, right?

  Mr. Scalon turned to write something on the board and since I had already wasted enough time worrying about my new companion, I decided to write down any new information with a pencil in case I had to edit something later. As I leaned down to my right, where I’d placed my bag on the floor, I felt a light tap on my left shoulder. The contact startled me so much I jumped a little.

  Mortified by my reaction, I took my time turning to face the owner of whatever body part had grazed my shoulder. There was no one close enough to touch me unless you counted the new guy, so it was safe to assume he was the one striving for my attention. I turned sideways and caught sight of two dangerous silver orbs staring straight at me.

  “Can I borrow a pencil?” He motioned to his backpack. “I forgot mine.” That voice had the power to melt ice.

  “Sure, give me a second.” I grabbed an extra pencil from my bag and handed it to him. Our fingers touched briefly. I felt him stiffen. “This is your first day of classes and you forget your pencil?” I said in order to dissolve the awkward moment between us.

  “Thank you.” He smiled slightly as he took the pencil from me. “We overslept,” he offered as an excuse, which I chose to believe even though I felt that wasn’t the case at all.

  “Ah, it happens, I guess…I don’t need it back, so you can keep it,” I said, sounding a little shaky. Damn.

  “Thanks. I’ll definitely need it for later.”

  Oh God, that accent could drive a girl crazy.

  He took out a black notebook from his backpack and placed it on top of the table. I tried not to notice every move he made as he rummaged through the pack, but who was I kidding? I observed everything about him. For example, how incredibly good he smelled, how his hair shadowed his face each time he dropped his head, how the sweatshirt he wore outlined broad shoulders and big biceps.

  Is it me or did it get warm in here?

  I was brought out of my gawking session when he took out a white piece of paper and shifted in his seat so that he was facing me.

  “Do you know where this next class is?” He pointed with a long and lean finger to a spot on the paper. His class schedule. I took it from him and inspected it, noticing that he was majoring in Hospitality Management just like me. Scanning the piece of paper for a second time, I confirmed that he had every single class I did. That’s when I stumbled upon his name: Kyran Rousseau.

  “Yeah, that’s my next class. You can walk with me if you want.” I blurted before I could stop myself.

  He immediately looked at me and I tingled all over.

  “Or I can tell you where it’s at.” I offered.

  “No need, I’ll accompany you there.”

  “Okay.” I handed the paper back to him and watched as he placed it inside a folder and then back into his pack.

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw Marissa Gilbert urgently waving her hand in the hope of getting my attention. I was inclined to ignore her, but I had the feeling Marissa would call my name from across the room, therefore grabbing everyone’s attention, not just mine. I acknowledged Marissa by turning toward her, and waited for the girl to either tell or sign whatever it was that she wanted.

  Marissa mouthed out something I couldn’t understand and I shrugged. Mouthing out a “What?” as clearly as possible without uttering a sound, I waited for her to answer. She smiled and looked at Kyran before trying once again to mouth out a question that apparently couldn’t wait till after class was over. Why couldn’t she just write a note and pass it like normal people do? Shaking my head to let her know I still didn’t grasp what she was trying to say, I waited for her to try again. She let out an exasperated sigh and began to write something down on a piece of paper, when the new guy spoke softly.

  “She wants to know what I said.”

  My mouth hung open for a split second in shock and embarrassment. How on earth did he know what she was trying to say when he wasn’t even looking at Marissa?

  “Um, what?” I watched him closely. And just like I suspected, he never even glanced Marissa’s way. He was busy the entire time writing down notes on his notebook, head down, eyes darting from the board to his notebook and back.

  “Apparently, she’s curious about what the new guy has to say. She’ll ask you after this class,” he said without breaking concentration.

  Why would Marissa think that I would answer any questions about Kyran while he was still present? Hadn’t the girl ever heard of something called privacy?

  “Oh, uh, how did you—?”

  “I have exceptional hearing.” He lifted his gaze to mine and smiled.

  That smile nearly knocked me off my chair. Not only could his voice melt ice, his smile could too. I had to fight to find my voice in the hopes that I wouldn’t sound like an idiot once I spoke.

  “Ah, okay.” That man’s smile should be registered as a dangerous weapon. One smile and he had me shaking like a leaf.

  “You okay, Marjorie?”

  My head snapped toward him. “How do you know my name?”

  “The teacher.” He pointed toward Mr. Scalon with his pencil, then turned his attention back to writing down notes.

  Duh! Didn’t the teacher offer him the seat next to mine? Marjorie, you idiot!

  “Oh.”

  Once Marissa lifted the piece of paper for me to see, I waved her off. She nodded and proceeded to pester Kenny Marshall, who was sitting at the table in front of hers. The interrogation that was sure to take place once class was over was sure to be a fun one. What was there for me to say? The guy just asked if he could burrow a pencil and where his next class was; that was hardly a topic of conversation, now was it. Apparently Marissa thought it was, or she assumed he had said something important, which he hadn’t.

  Mr. Scalon dismissed the class with a writing assignment due the very next day. Trying not to look obviously stricken by the figure moving next to me, I shoved my book, notebook, and pencil back into my bag and waited for Kyran to finish packing his belongings.

  From the corner of my eye I saw Marissa, Irene, and the rest of the Fantastic Four girls, Sarah and Mackenzie, start to approach me but then hesitate when they realized Kyran wasn’t moving away. Apparently, they wanted to ask questions about him but didn’t want him to hear. Too bad he’d already heard what they wanted to ask.

  “Ready to go to our next class?” I asked.

  He nodded.

  I took advantage of the other girls’ hesitation to march out the door with my very attractive companion. We strode down the hallway together, awkwardly ambling without making physical contact. However, each time someone from the opposing direction forced us to touch by bumping into either one of us, I noticed how my body reacted immediately to his.

  “How do you like Wolf Creek Hollow so far?” I asked, hoping to distract myself from the prickling goose bumps spreading throughout my skin.

  “It’s a very small and private town, and we have a special liking for the name.” He spoke in such a low voice I could barely make out the words. “My family enjoys it here because there are plenty of woodlands all around.”

  “Really? Most city people don’t like it here because there is nothing but woodlands and farming communities.”

  “We’re not exactly from the city. The isolation this town provides is why we love it here.” His arm brushed mine when a group of people bumped into him as they were trying to make their way to class, and I unwillingly shuddered. “Wherever we choose to live must be a remote and secluded area.”

  His answer really surprised me because it sounded so matter-of-factly.

  “Is that like a non-negotiable qualification?”

  “Absolutely.” He didn’t hesitate. “We don’t like the city.”

  “Why not?”

  “The city is too noisy, and there are too many people around.”

  As we walked by Kenny Marshall, who was standing to the side of the
hallway with his best friend Jack Bennett, Kyran frowned as if he’d seen someone or something unpleasant. His nostrils flared, his muscles tensed, and his head jerked toward them as he glared at the two guys standing there.

  Jack turned away but Kenny stared right back.

  “Well, I’m not much of a city girl either.” I admitted.

  Kyran turned his attention away from the two and focused on me once again.

  “But that’s mostly because I was born and raised in Wolf Creek Hollow.”

  “You’ve never been anywhere but here?” he asked as if seriously interested.

  “No, never,” I replied.

  “Is there any place you’d like to visit?”

  “England, Italy, Rome, and of course France.” My answer seemed to please him.

  “Why those countries and not others?” he pried.

  “I don’t know. I guess something about Europe calls out to me.”

  He was staring directly at me, listening and ignoring the people gaping at us.

  “I don’t know how to explain it really.”

  “Are you planning on going anytime soon?” He kept pace easily with me, not once missing a stride as his gaze rested on me.

  “My parents planned a trip about a year ago. It was supposed to be a graduation present. But something I did shattered that dream completely,” I muttered solemnly.

  His forehead creased with worry lines. “It was that bad?”

  “Yes.” I shrugged, deciding to change the subject before he asked what exactly I’d done. “Your name is a very uncommon one, isn’t it?” When he nodded, I added, “I haven’t heard it before.”

  “Depending on who you ask, my name can either mean little dark one, or beam of light. People also associate one of those meanings to my personality.”

  For a moment there I thought he was teasing me about that, but after glancing at his face and noting his expression, I knew he meant it.

  Kyran and I headed to the next class in silence after that. All through the hallway, girls stopped to appraise him, none too shy with their appreciation. To my utter surprise he didn’t pay attention to any of them. As an attractive young male, I expected him to ogle them right back or at least smile at the pretty girls, but he did no such thing. He kept walking as if it happened on a daily basis and was used to it.