Ava smiled. Josh had brown hair, dark eyebrows, and the coolest greenish blue eyes, like marbles. He was one of Jeff Jackson’s best friends, and Morgan had had a crush on him forever.
“Hey!” she said, a thought occurring to her. “Maybe this year I’ll have a really great birthday party and invite them both!”
Morgan looked at her with huge eyes. “Yes! That would be so cool!”
“You have to help me. I want to throw the best party ever.”
“I have a million ideas already!”
The bell rang, signaling two minutes until homeroom. Immediately, the groups on the lawn broke up, and students from every direction began swarming into the school.
“Hey! Do you notice anything else different about me?” Ava shouted over the crush of students as they headed to the front doors.
“Oh my god, I was so amazed to see you and Jeff I forgot about the whole feathers thing! I mean, I thought you’d blown it, Ava. I really did, between your freaky behavior at the lake and your general freakiness yesterday. Some guys must just like freaks, even handsome popular guys.”
It was so typical of Morgan to be more concerned about boys than the most momentous, magical, amazing thing that could ever happen to anyone ever.
“Being a freak is underrated,” Ava said. “Meet me at lunch and you’ll see.”
“Like I’m not meeting you for lunch. Sorry, I have a date at the beauty salon with my best friend, Jennifer Halverson.”
“Jealousy really doesn’t suit you, Morgan,” Ava said, blowing her friend a kiss and heading to the first class of the day.
She didn’t even mind walking into homeroom and possibly trying to face her language arts homework to boot.
There was a first time for everything.
Finally, sitting at her desk, she had a chance to think, about the swans, the woods, her mother. She wondered if her father knew. Had he known all along? Could you marry a swan maiden and not know?
But Ava thought about Helen and Lara and the rest of them, who, no matter how beautiful and extraordinary, looked 100 percent human. If there was a way to pick out a swan maiden in human form, Ava had no idea how.
She herself was a swan maiden in human form, and she looked normal, didn’t she?
The thought hurtled through her like an arrow. She patted her knapsack, making sure the feathered robe was still there.
She felt the same wonder and disbelief she’d felt the day her father took her to Santa for the first time, when she stared up at the old man in the red suit and imagined him crossing the sky in a sleigh pulled by reindeer. The world had seemed so gigantic then!
And now, suddenly, it felt as if there were things that were even more important than Jeff Jackson (as wonderful and gorgeous as he was!) and Jennifer Halverson and all the zombies and the crowd at the lake. All this was only one tiny sliver in this whole huge world that was filled with magic and wonder.
Who knew what else there was, hidden behind things that seemed totally normal? She looked around at her classmates. What if Vivienne Witmer were secretly . . . a fairy? Ava studied the girl’s long yellow hair that fell over her desk as she sat with her head bent over her book, reading, across the room. She looked at Vivienne’s bright purple T-shirt. Could there be little insect wings back there, flat against her back, just waiting to come to life? Maybe the whole mean-girl zombie thing was just a cover.
Ava herself hadn’t known about swan maidens a day ago. Who knew what she’d know about tomorrow? Maybe Vivienne Witmer being a fairy was just the tip of the iceberg, as Grandma Kay would say.
She shivered with excitement.
“Ava, eyes to the page!” she heard.
She looked up as Mrs. Holloway stopped in front of her, hovering over her desk. “Ava Lewis, you need to stop that daydreaming for once and focus on the work in front of you!”
Ava could feel herself go red as she mumbled an apology and looked down at her language arts homework.
It really seemed very unfair that she had to do homework, considering the circumstances, but she supposed even swan maidens needed to know how to spell.
At lunchtime, Ava and Morgan met at their usual spot, in the bleachers overlooking the track field.
“I hope you have enough to share,” Ava said as Morgan pulled out a thick peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “Last night and this morning were so crazy, I forgot to pack a lunch.”
“Fine” Morgan sighed, reluctantly handing half of her sandwich to Ava. “It must have been crazy for you to forget about food. I might have to record this moment for posterity.”
“Well, I’ve remembered now,” Ava said, taking a huge bite. Morgan’s mother made the best sandwiches. Even peanut butter and jelly tasted heavenly when she made it, with jam she canned herself every summer, super crunchy peanut butter, and thinly sliced banana. Once Ava thought she detected a thin layer of honey, too, but she’d gobbled down the sandwich too quickly to be sure.
It was a warm, beautiful day. Students from one of the eighth grade gym classes were running laps around the field and the girls watched them lazily.
“So what’s the deal?” Morgan asked. “One day you have feathers and the next day you totally don’t?”
“You’re not going to believe what I have to tell you.”
“Well, let’s hear it then!”
“Okay. So the feathers? They peeled off last night. I shed them, like a snakeskin or something disgusting like that. Except they’re not disgusting. They’re amazing. It’s this one long feathered robe.”
Ava told Morgan the rest of what had happened the night before. Her friend listened without moving, just staring at Ava with huge eyes until she finished.
“So you haven’t put it on yet?” Morgan asked finally.
“No, I haven’t had time. Plus, I mean . . . it’s a little weird. Right? What if I change and don’t change back?”
“I’ll still hang out with you,” Morgan said. “If that happens, maybe I can borrow that awesome Betsey Johnson dress you got for your birthday?”
“Morgan, get it through your head. You will never wear that dress. Even if I turn into a swan. Not after what you did to that Esprit sweater I loved.”
“That was not my fault.”
“All I know is one day it was perfect, the next it was covered in taco sauce.”
“Okay, fine,” Morgan said. “If you get stuck as a swan I promise I won’t take your Betsey Johnson dress. I’m not sure what you’ll do about it if I do, but . . . ”
“Morgan! This is a highly serious matter. I’m a swan maiden. I mean hello. Swan. Maiden.”
Morgan sighed. “I know. God. I’m the one who leaves milk out for fairies and cookies for the elves, but I never see anything. You get magic and Jeff Jackson. It’s so not fair.”
“Well, I don’t have him yet.”
Morgan rolled her eyes. “Whatever. So. Where IS the robe?”
Ava nodded to her backpack.
“You brought it to school? In your BACKPACK?” Morgan yelled, so loudly that the kids running by right then all turned to stare.
“It’s my magic robe, Morgan. I can’t just leave it somewhere.”
“But what if someone steals it from your backpack? Like, then anyone could turn into a swan.”
“No, just me.”
Morgan’s face fell. “Are you sure?”
“Pretty sure. What, you wanted to try?”
“Um. Of COURSE I DO. Have you ever seen a more swanlike creature?” Morgan turned to the side and stretched out her neck. “Look at this grace,” she said, pointing at her throat. “I was born to be a swan!”
“Okay, well, you can try. It just . . . You slip it on and become a swan. You pull it off and become . . . a maiden, I guess.”
“Wow.”
“I know.”
“Can I see?”
“I’m not pulling it out right here!”
Morgan made an exasperated face, which always made Ava laugh because Morgan’s eyes practically
popped out of her head like a bug’s. “Just open your bag and let me look!”
“Fine,” Ava said. And even though she tried to sound annoyed, she too was dying to see the feathers again. As horrifying as they’d been when they were growing on her body, now they were fascinating, wonderful. Like frosted vanilla icing. Like the fur of a polar bear.
Ava reached down and grabbed her backpack.
“Okay, look,” she said, unzipping it and placing it on her lap.
Morgan breathed in sharply. “Oh my god,” she said.
“What?”
“It’s so strange,” Morgan said.
“Well. It is a magic robe. But what do you mean?”
Morgan reached in her long, freckled fingers, burying them in the feathers. “They just feel so . . . Not just soft, but like. . . It feels like there’s a bunny rabbit in here or something, you know? Something alive.”
“Well. It sort of is, I guess.”
“That’s totally weird.”
“Well . . . DUH. It’s not like I got it at the Gap. Of course it’s weird.”
Morgan nodded. “Weird and awesome.”
Ava shrugged. “Yeah. But . . . ”
“But what?”
Ava looked at her friend. “I’m scared! Hello! How could I not be scared? It’s freaky!”
“Well. Good things are scary sometimes, right? It’s an amazing thing, you know.” She looked at Ava, softening. “I mean, you’re magic.”
“Yeah, I suppose that’s true,” she said, sighing, as Morgan rolled her eyes. “Will you come over and help me?”
“After school? I’ll come to your house?”
“Yes, please,” Ava said. Grateful she didn’t have to do it alone. She was as terrified as she was exhilarated. The whole future opened up in front of her, filled with possibility. It overwhelmed her.
“Hey,” Morgan said “So when will you see the swan maidens again? And your mom?”
Ava shrugged. “The next full moon.”
“Really?”
“That’s when they transform, Helen said, so I can’t see them until then.”
“Oh!” Morgan scrambled for her bag, suddenly excited.
“What?”
“Hold on.” Morgan shuffled through her bag and pulled out a miniature calendar, the one her crunchy New Age aunt had given her for Hanukkah the year before. “I noticed something the other day.” She unfolded the calendar and scrolled down with her finger. “Yep, I thought so. The next full moon. It’s on your birthday!”
“What?” Ava stared at Morgan and then down at the calendar. There it was, the big open circle, smack dab on the Saturday of her birthday. “That’s crazy.” She felt like her mind was about to explode.
“It’s like it’s totally meant to be, huh?”
“Yeah,” Ava said. “Wow.”
“This really is going to be the best birthday ever,” Morgan said, shaking her head. “So we’ve got to make your party amazing.”
“Yeah.”
Ava didn’t even know what to say, as she let everything hit her and as she watched, distractedly, as Lynn Johnson huffed and puffed around the track, her black ponytail bobbing up and down.
Morgan grew quiet as well, and the two friends sat side by side, taking in the scene in front of them. The backpack between their feet. Overhead, just then, a flock of birds flew by, squawking and twittering. Everything was strange, hypnotic.
“So you’ll really be able to fly,” Morgan said after a few minutes had passed.
Ava shook herself out of her reverie. “I guess so. Maybe. The rest of them did.”
“Do you think your mom’s been watching you? Sometimes?”
Ava’s eyes filled with tears. Embarrassed, she wiped them away. “I don’t know.”
Morgan was obnoxious sometimes, and sometimes downright mortifying to be around, but she did know when to be quiet. She put her arm around Ava and the two of them just sat there, silent, watching the runners in front of them and the birds passing above them, going who knows where, until the bell rang, signaling the end of the period.
CHAPTER SEVEN
In the late afternoon, the woods seemed so innocent and sweet, it was hard to imagine that the night before they’d been full of swans that could transform into maidens and then back again. It was hard to imagine the dark and the moon at all when the sun spilled over the leaves and down to the earth like melted butter.
The leaves flitted around the girls in a soft breeze as they wandered into the forest, following the well-worn trail that led to the creek, the same one her dad took to go fishing. Squirrels scurried up tree trunks. Acorns fell from the trees. The girls had to push back the thin branches, with leaves dangling from them like charms, as they moved along the path.
Ava tried to remember if they’d walked this path last night, she and the swan maiden Helen, but as hard as she tried, she found she couldn’t remember. Not the path they’d walked or how long it had taken them to reach the strange clearing. It seemed like every detail, in fact, was out of reach. When she tried to picture the clearing now, all she saw was a pool of water, silver and gleaming, surrounded by trees. She blinked, pushing past a branch as Morgan led them deeper into the woods. But it had been grass drenched in moonlight. Hadn’t it?
Everything from the night before seemed like a half memory, something from a dream that slipped away as soon as you woke up no matter how hard you tried to remember. She patted her backpack again to make sure she could feel the bulk within it.
Above them, the sky was bright blue.
Was her mother somewhere, watching that same sky?
Morgan stopped suddenly, under an ancient oak tree with a huge knot in its center. “Look.”
“What is it?” Ava walked up to it and peered in.
“I bet an elf lives in here,” Morgan said, scrunching up her face to look thoughtful.
Ava was about to tell her she was crazy when she caught herself. “I guess there could be an elf in there, couldn’t there?” she said.
“Yes,” Morgan said, shrugging.
Ava looked at her friend. Morgan had always believed in magical creatures, she realized, whereas Ava herself had never given them much thought. Of course, it was Morgan’s mother who’d read her stories about witches and fairies and mermaids and unicorns, Morgan’s mother who had a big herb garden filled with special plants that were supposed to bring you true love or fortune or just plain good luck. As far as Ava could tell, though, if those herbs really worked Morgan should be living in the biggest house in town, not in a sweet little clapboard house where she had to share her bedroom with her annoying younger sister, Fay.
Ava’s father had been far too practical to read her stories about fairies and the rest. He had read her stories about Tarzan and the Old West and Al Capone, and pointed out the constellations to her while talking about supernovas and black holes. She was jealous of Morgan, suddenly, even more than she’d been before. Maybe having mothers meant learning about magic, along with everything else. Of course Ava had had Grandma Kay, but that was different.
A mother was something else altogether.
“So I think this is the perfect spot,” Morgan said. “No one around for miles.”
“Except for an elf or two, maybe.”
Morgan waved her hand. “Oh, they don’t count.”
“I guess not,” Ava said, standing there, holding her backpack.
For a minute, neither girl moved. Overhead, a cluster of birds passed, seeming to swim through the air.
“Well?” Morgan said finally, her hands on her hips. “Did you just want to stand here all day staring at the sky?”
“There are worse things to do.”
“Yeah, and better,” Morgan said, grabbing for the backpack.
“Stop it!” Ava held on tight, but Morgan didn’t let go. Suddenly the zipper flew open, both girls stumbled back, there was a terrible ripping sound, and the feathered robe came tumbling out and landed in the dirt.
Ava gasped.
Her heart froze in her chest.
The two girls looked at each other.
“Did we . . . break it?” Morgan breathed.
“I don’t know.” Trembling, Ava dropped down to her knees to touch it. As she reached out her hand, the edge of the robe closest to her seemed to shrink away. Or did she imagine it? She grabbed the robe and pulled it to her, sitting back and gathering it in her lap.
Morgan crouched down next to to Ava, the ends of her long red hair hanging down and scraping the feathers.
Around them, the woods were completely silent, except for the faint faint rushing of creek in the distance.
“Is it okay?” Morgan asked, her voice soft and timid. “I’m so sorry, Ava.”
“I don’t know,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm.
She stood and held up the robe, tentatively, as if it were made of glass, unfolding it so that it hung down in, almost, one big sheet. Wincing, she held it away from herself so she could see.
It was worse than she thought it’d be. The robe was covered in dirt. Near the center, the feathers were all awry, sticking out in different directions like a bad hairdo. Worst of all, a large rip ran up the bottom.
Ava’s heart fell to her knees. She wanted to sob.
“Maybe you should put it on to see,” Morgan whispered, finally. “Maybe it doesn’t matter.”
“Okay,” Ava said, unconvinced. She forced herself not to cry, knowing her friend felt bad enough already.
But just as she was about to pull the robe around her shoulders, something happened. A quiet sound, like breathing . . . And then, as both girls watched, the feathers smoothed and whitened and the tear mended, slowly, from bottom to top, until the robe gleamed like a bright white moon in the midst of the pitch black night.
“Did you see that?” Ava asked, barely able to breathe. The robe seemed to shiver under her fingers.
“Yes!”
The girls stared at each other and then at the robe, which hung still now, glowing.
“It’s so beautiful!”
“It’s amazing,” Morgan said. “Oh, Ava, put it on!”
The Next Full Moon Page 7
