“You still don’t remember?”
“I remember the way the moonlight lit your face and eyes. I can’t get it out of my mind.”
My cheeks flushed red. “And after? You remember now?”
He shook his head. “I know something happened. It changed me. Although I’m not sure how or why, I know it did.” Then he leaned on the fence, his hair falling over his eyes. “I wanted you to know that I was thinking of you. I’ve just been trying to figure some things out.”
“I understand,” I said.
“You do?”
“Something extraordinary did happen that night. We both felt it.”
I could sense his sudden relief with my reassurance.
“Have you told anyone about that night?” he asked, concerned that I’d spread what I told him around school.
I’d told Juliette vaguely, but not the real details and who the juicy kiss was with. “You don’t have to worry about that,” I said. “No one knows.”
“Well, I’m glad you are here, now,” he said. He took my hand. “I was hoping I could take you on a proper date sometime.”
I nodded enthusiastically. “I’d like that.”
Dates with Nash were always set around his sporting events. I was eager to find out what Brandon’s idea for an evening out might be. Although, Brandon was so charming that as long as I was with him, I didn’t care where we were.
“Are you cold?” he finally asked. “We can go inside—”
“No, it’s not too bad.” I liked being with Brandon. I admired him for knowing so much about the wilderness. I wanted to share it all with him — the snow, the bare trees, the cold, crisp air.
“You like the outdoors?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Back in Miller’s Glen my friends liked to hang inside and party. Like the Eastsiders here.”
“You mean you were on the Eastside?”
“Every town has their Northside or Southside… east or west. Every side thinks they are better than the other. It’s all a waste of time.”
“So you mean you were on the popular side in Miller’s Glen but not here?”
“Funny, isn’t it? No one here would know. I’m just a Westsider to them. That’s why you are so cool,” he said.
“I bet you miss your friends,” I said.
“I do. But they weren’t really into outdoor stuff. That’s why I like it here so much. We have so much land and so much to do.”
“You like it here?”
“Yes. My grandparents are really awesome. They’re funny and sweet. My grandma is always stuffing me with food. I get this cool bachelor pad guesthouse and this backyard and a pond where I can practice hockey.”
“Is that different from your house in Miller’s Glen?”
“Totally. I lived in the suburbs. We had a backyard, but not like this. It had a grill and a few patio chairs. Nothing unusual.”
“What about school?” I hinted. “I bet it’s hard to transfer to a new one, especially after it already began.”
“I don’t think about it much. I like certain classes,” he said. “The ones I have with you.”
I could hang out with Brandon forever, but I longed to touch, hold, or kiss him. It had been torture this last month and I couldn’t stand it anymore.
It was then he took my hand. I sighed inside. We walked around his property holding hands.
“That night, something strange did happen,” he said. “I haven’t felt the same since.”
“Neither have I.”
“I’ve never met anyone like you.”
“Me, too.”
“But since that night, I haven’t slept well.”
“How did you feel during winter break?” I asked, trying to pull more info from him.
“I dream a lot. During the day I feel great, but I’m ravenous. My grandmother says she can’t keep up with my meals for lunch and dinner. She has to go to the grocery almost every day.”
“What did you dream about?”
“Just stuff. The woods,” he said. “I think it’s because I’m sleeping out here in the guesthouse. Noises in the night must be infiltrating my subconscious.”
Brandon was obviously tormented by what he was going through. He fingered his hair and stared off into the hilltop.
“I’m so sorry — I want to help you.”
“Don’t worry,” he said. “After that night I felt weird for a few days. Bizarre dreams and waking up without my shirt and covered in dirt. I think it was just a fever. Since then, I just have weird dreams and the events of the night are fuzzy, but when I wake up I feel okay, and I’m fully clothed.”
He obviously could see the concern on my face. “I feel much better, now that you are here.”
The sun was setting behind the trees.
But I was distracted. The moon was crescent-shaped, framed by puffy clouds. If Brandon was indeed affected by the wolf’s bite, and Mr. Worthington’s story about the full moon was real, then we were safe from the crescent moon’s glow. For now.
“What are you looking at?” he asked.
“The moon.”
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it? I like it when there is that spooky glow around it. But I’d rather be looking at something else right now.”
Brandon moved close to me, so close, it took my breath away. He pulled me into him. We were standing face-to-face, our fingers entwined. He leaned into me and kissed me with such desire and intensity I thought I was dreaming.
But like all good dreams, it had to come to an end, because the next thought in my head was that our romance would have to stay a secret. And I’d have to find out if what I’d seen after our first kiss under the full moon meant that Brandon Maddox was, in fact, a werewolf.
For as long as I could remember, I hadn’t kept anything a secret from Ivy. Half the time it was because she squeezed information out of me, the other half because I blurted it out in excitement. Now I had been keeping several major events under wraps for quite some time. Besides discreetly seeing Brandon, I’d managed to keep three classified secrets: one, that Brandon Maddox had rescued me from the wolves; two, that I was in love with him; and three, the Westsider I was in love with might possibly be a werewolf.
The secrets burned inside me. If I told Ivy about Brandon, she’d be upset that I was in love with anyone other than Nash. And if I told her he might be a werewolf, she’d clearly think it was a prank. She’d be in as much disbelief as I had been and, like me, would want proof. Finally, the news of a teen werewolf would spread through the town faster than a flood. Brandon’s existence would ultimately be at stake. Before I told anyone anything, I needed to know for sure what was happening with Brandon — if his dreams and what I thought I’d seen meant that he was, indeed, a werewolf.
My calendar and my notebook became my best tools. As the days passed by, I logged all possible lycanthropic events — the three nights when the moon appeared full, Brandon woke up shirtless and covered in dirt. Brandon dreamed a lot during waning and waxing moons. He was ravenous during the day. And I noted the shapes of the moon and circled the date of the next full moon, which was several weeks away.
Brandon continued to be a loner at school — keeping to himself in the cafeteria while my friends and I gathered at the popular table. I was completely torn up about it. I wanted to go over and sit by his side. Every other table was crowded with friends and cliques. I’d be the only one to break out of the pattern that had gone on for
