Magic of the Moonlight

by Ellen Schreiber

  “You guys are popular,” I said. “So if we sit with him, he’ll look cool because he’s with the cool people. Then the spray-painting antics will be over.”

  “No, then they’ll be spray painting our lockers as well,” Ivy said.

  “They wouldn’t dare,” I said. “That’s why this is so easy—”

  “Well, you’re popular, too,” Abby said. “Why don’t you sit with him?”

  They both glared at me with razor-sharp eyes, awaiting my answer.

  This was the moment. I could either stand tall or cave in. Be the person I was hoping they’d be or behave as all the other cliques did and simply mind my own business. Ivy and Abby were going to sit by their boyfriends. Perhaps it was time for me to sit by mine.

  “I think I will.” The words came out before I had a chance to change my mind.

  I thought Ivy was going to drop her tray from shock. “Oh, come on,” she said. “Are you insane? You could be killed over there!”

  “Yeah, it’s totally not safe—or cool,” Abby advised. “A party was one thing, but I agree with Dylan, we’ve done enough.”

  “I have to sit with Jake,” Ivy said, “and Abby sits with Dylan and you with Nash. Let’s go.” They began to walk away, but I didn’t follow.

  “Are you coming?” Abby asked.

  I didn’t move. Instead I turned in the direction of Brandon’s table—the skater table.

  “Celeste!” Ivy called. But I didn’t look back.

  “C’mon, Celeste!” Abby said. “We get that you are trying to do the right thing.”

  But I didn’t join my friends and continued to gaze toward the opposite side of the cafeteria.

  “Fine.” Ivy finally resigned. “We’ll catch up to her after lunch.”

  “If she survives the lunch bell,” Abby said. I could hear their heels clicking against the linoleum floor as they walked to our table.

  At this point, I was no longer worried that my friends would abandon me. I knew they’d just assume I was up to my old goody-two-shoes save-the-world ways. And hadn’t Brandon saved me from the wolves in the woods? This was the least I could do.

  But it was harder than I thought. It would be the first time I sat anywhere else but with my friends. All my high school years were spent in Ivy’s and Abby’s company. Even if one was at home sick, I was by the side of the other. We never stepped foot on the other side of the cafeteria even to throw our trash away. And this time I was not only planning to venture onto their half but actually sit down with one of their own.

  I took a deep breath and walked toward Brandon’s table. At first I went unnoticed. But when I walked past several tables of Eastsiders and crossed into Westsider territory, I began to get stares. I was uncomfortable and my palms grew clammy, the tray beginning to slip and shake in my hand. The spoon for my Jell-O began to rattle, and it only drew attention to how nervous I felt inside. I knew it wasn’t too late to turn back. No one would be the wiser. My friends would greet me with a laugh and a few “goody-girl” jabs. The Westsiders would go back to eating their sandwiches and talking about how materialistic we were.

  But I remembered the stares from the wolves in the woods that day when the blizzard blinded me, I was lost, and Brandon saved me. These stares felt just as deadly, but I knew that I wasn’t in any real physical danger now. I had to convince myself that Brandon was there for me—and I had to be there for him. I couldn’t shy away from the unknown but needed to embrace it and have it provide me with strength, just as he had. I took another deep breath; I felt as if I were walking in the wrong part of town. This time I was the outsider, the one who didn’t belong. But I didn’t care. I stood tall and continued on my way, as if I’d been sitting on that side of the cafeteria since I was a freshman.

  I came to the skater table, where Brandon normally sat. Several students eyed me but didn’t say anything—as if my presence was too shocking for words. I set my shaking tray down on the table and I finally plopped down on the bench next to Brandon’s empty seat. I heard several gasps and whispers.

  “What is Miss Priss doing here?” Hayley said loud enough for me to hear. Her friends laughed.

  I ignored her.

  “Don’t you have your own table over there on the Eastside?” she asked.

  As I opened my lunch, I felt unsettled and understood the loneliness Brandon must have felt eating by himself. The caf was filled with noisy laughing, talking, and eating. Everyone had a pal, a best friend, or a group to chill out with. Not being included or having anyone to even smile at made me feel very self-conscious and hollow inside.

  And then it hit me. What if Brandon didn’t eat in the lunchroom today? What would I do? Would I sit and eat alone the entire lunch bell—or get up to leave early to jeers and howling from Westsiders who thought, to begin with, that my presence must be a joke? I didn’t want to become the laughingstock of Legend’s Run. The last thing I felt like doing was eating my lunch—my stomach was flip-flopping with nerves—but I knew I had to do something other than sit and stare back at the glaring eyeballs.

  My sandwich felt rotten as it hit the pit of my stomach, but I continued to chew and swallow another bite. Finally I spotted Brandon coming into the lunchroom.

  I breathed a sigh of relief.

  Brandon caught sight of me and appeared just as shocked as the others. But instead of making remarks and scowling, his face brightened. He headed over with all lunchroom eyes on him and sat down next to me.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked with a smooth, sultry voice.

  “I was tired of watching you get teased. Now maybe it will stop.”

  He glanced around. Everyone was looking at us, especially my friends at my table, but I continued to eat my lunch as if we were the only ones in the lunchroom.

  Brandon didn’t know what to do. It wasn’t the reaction I’d expected.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “You can eat, too.”

  “Did you tell your friends about us?” he whispered.

  “No.”

  “Then what’s up?” he asked. “Why the sudden change in seating?”

  “I wanted Ivy, Abby, and me to sit with you. If everyone saw us hanging out with you, then I thought . . .”

  “The hazing would stop?”

  “I thought it might.”

  “But Ivy and Abby didn’t go for it?” he said with a smile.

  I shook my head.

  “That’s really cool.”

  “That they didn’t?”

  “No, that you did. That was really cool.” He locked eyes with me.

  I could kiss you right now, his gaze spoke to me. I blushed and turned to my food.

  He opened his bag and pulled out two overstuffed sandwiches. Ever since Brandon had become a werewolf, his eating habits had taken on a new life. He ate three times the normal amount of food a typical student would eat.

  He scooted his leg next to mine so they were touching. No one in the cafeteria knew our little secret. I was tingly and so distracted that I could barely eat my lunch.

  I was hoping we’d be able to get through lunch without incident, but deep down I knew that wasn’t going to happen.

  Nash approached the table and stood across from me and Brandon. Jake and Dylan flanked him on either side.

  “What’s up, Wolfie?” Nash said.

  “Nash, please,” I said.

  “Just wanted to see what the Wolfman eats for lunch. Deer meat? Or are you a vegan werewolf?”

  “Stop it, Nash.”

  “Have to get a girl to fight your battles?” Nash said coldly.

  Brandon tensed up. “You mean your girl?” he muttered under his breath.

  “What did you say?” Nash asked.

  “Celeste is welcome to sit wherever she likes,” Brandon said. “I don’t own her, and neither do you.”

  “Listen, bud,” Nash said, leaning in so only Brandon and I could hear. “I know what I saw that night. I can turn you in to the zoo sooner rather than later.”

/>   Brandon leaned in, too. “Well, if you do believe you saw something, then you better watch your back. A full moon is coming.”

  For a moment they continued to stare at each other, like two wolves ready for a fight.

  “Stop it—both of you,” I finally said.

  Mrs. Dent, our lunchroom monitor, must have noticed the rising tensions and came over to our table.

  “Is everything all right here?” she asked.

  “Uh . . . yes,” Nash said. “I was just making sure our friend here had enough to eat.”

  “Well, the lunch period is almost over,” she said.

  “We were just leaving,” my former boyfriend replied.

  Before he left, Nash shot me a cold stare that chilled my veins. Dylan and Jake followed him back to my friends’ table.

  “I guess this wasn’t a good idea,” I said, frustrated with myself. “The bullying didn’t stop. I might have made it worse. I thought I was doing the right thing.”

  “You were,” Brandon said, squeezing my knee. “You were.”

  The bell rang, and I threw my remaining lunch in the trash. I hadn’t been able to eat much. I’d have to wait until after school to have a snack. But if my stomach still felt as upset as it was now, I wouldn’t have much of an appetite then, either.

  Ivy caught up to me by the cafeteria exit and took me by the hand, leading me away from Brandon.

  “Okay, community service time is over,” she said as she yanked me into the crowd of students leaving the lunchroom.

  When fifth bell was finally over, Nash was waiting for me outside my classroom.

  “What was that about?” he asked, sliding up close to me. “Are you trying to embarrass me?”

  “You mean lunch?” I asked.

  “Uh . . . yeah. I know we aren’t back together, but are you trying to play a trick on me?”

  “Of course not, Nash,” I said sincerely. “I wanted to show solidarity. That whoever is tormenting him—it needs to stop.”

  “You think it’s me,” he said as if he was genuinely hurt.

  “No. You said you didn’t write that on his Jeep and I believe you. But that means someone else did. So I’m doing it to stop them.”

  He shook his head at me in frustration.

  “What?” I said. “I’d do the same for you—only you don’t need it. You are popular and everyone in school loves you.”

  “I know. I know you’d do the same for me. That’s why you are so cool.”

  I was thrilled by Nash’s compliment. It was weird feeling I understood him more than the other girls at Legend’s Run. And that he in turn saw me differently, too.

  “I guess I just wish this time that I was the new kid in school—that you wanted to sit with me,” he confessed as students walked by.

  Nash’s admission went straight to my heart. For a moment, he wasn’t masking himself with the bravado of a high school jock but rather letting me into his soul.

  “Well, it didn’t seem to work as well as I’d like. I might have caused Brandon more trouble. I’ll be returning to our table tomorrow.”

  Nash turned serious. “Uh . . . things might be different there, too.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You put me in a bind—in front of our friends and the whole school. I now know you were doing what you thought was right—but it looks like you left me for Brandon—a Westsider, no less.” He shook his head again in frustration. “Maybe I need to show you what you are really missing by making the choices you are making. By choosing the wrong side. But mostly the wrong guy.” Nash’s voice wasn’t threatening but rather low and sultry. And his expression was soft and sincere. If he’d been this attentive before, perhaps we’d be together now.

  Nash was fighting for me as much out of pride as for the deep and true feelings I sensed he had for me. There was a slight part of me that was attracted to that—as much I’d been attracted to him in the first place. But as Nash smiled and walked away, I realized that Brandon didn’t have to change to be the guy I loved. He already was that way, naturally.

  The following day, when the lunch bell rang, I wasn’t sure which table I should sit at. If I sat with Brandon, there would be more confrontation, and if I sat with my friends, Nash would feel that he won his battle.

  As I walked into the lunchroom with Ivy and Abby, I wondered what Nash had planned to convince me I was making the wrong choices in guys. I wasn’t expecting flowers or a ring, but I was wondering what the handsome jock had in mind. I was also slightly nervous that he would use Brandon’s lycan identity in hopes of getting my clique on his side. It was then I saw Nash already hanging out at our table—with his arm around Heidi Rosen. Before I knew it, she sat down in my spot—the seat that I’d been sitting in since freshman year.

  I was being replaced by Heidi Rosen? He hadn’t told my friends about Brandon being a werewolf. Instead he was doing something strong to let me know what I was missing being without him. Though we’d been on and off before, Nash didn’t ever have a girlfriend that he’d brought to our table.

  Ivy noticed Heidi, too. “What is she doing in your seat?”

  “We’ll get to the bottom of this,” Abby said.

  My best friends stormed over to our table and faced Nash.

  “That’s Celeste’s seat,” Abby said.

  “But she’s not sitting here anymore,” he said.

  “Uh . . . yes, she is,” Ivy said.

  “Then she can sit there,” he said, pointing to the empty space on the other side of Heidi. “You know how she likes to make new friends.”

  My two friends stormed back to me. “She won’t budge,” Ivy said. “Maybe if we had a crane—”

  “Or a pack of cigarettes,” Abby said. “I get secondhand smoke just from looking at her.”

  “It’s okay,” I said. Since I really liked Brandon, it wasn’t my place to make a fuss about Nash hanging out with another girl.

  “I can’t believe him,” Abby said. “He must really be jealous that you were kind to Brandon.”

  “He invited her to sit with us,” Ivy said. “He didn’t ask us, she just sat down, right in the spot that is yours! I know I’m going to lose my lunch.”

  “She’s all about herself,” Abby said. “Just like every other girl he dates. Except you. Don’t you see that’s why you belong together?”

  “It’s all right,” I said. “I’ll sit somewhere else.”

  “But you can’t. You’ll sit next to me and Dylan,” Abby offered.

  “No,” Ivy interjected. “By me and Jake.”

  “I suggested it first,” Abby said.

  “But Celeste might want to sit with us, too,” Ivy said to Abby as if I wasn’t standing there. “We’ll let her decide.”

  My friends looked to me to make a choice between them, putting me more on the spot than I already was.

  I didn’t mind so much being the odd girl out, but I did mind having my spot taken in such a brazen manner. I wasn’t in the mood to fight, and I didn’t want to use Brandon as a weapon and eat with him to get back at Nash.

  “Thanks. You both are the best,” I said truthfully. “But I think I want to eat alone.”

  “You have to eat with us,” Ivy said. “We’ve eaten together for years!”

  “Yes, this is your table,” Abby said. “I don’t mind getting in his face for real this time,” she offered.

  But that was what Nash wanted. He wanted to be fought over. I could have hung out at the table with them and shown him that it didn’t upset me, but I was too tired. By sitting with Brandon yesterday, I was trying to show anyone who was bothering him that he did have friends—even if it was only me. But today, Nash was trying to get back at me. And he’d think he won—even if it was a contest that I wasn’t really participating in.

  “You can’t sit with another guy at a table in front of the whole school without Nash getting worked up,” Ivy said.

  “I was just trying to help—” I began.

  “We know. But t
hat’s not what it looked like to him,” she added.

  I couldn’t sit at our table with Heidi Rosen sitting in my seat. And I wasn’t in the mood to march over and demand that she sit somewhere else. “It would be too awkward,” I said. “But I also can’t sit with Brandon. I’ve caused him enough trouble.”

  “I’d sit with you somewhere else,” Abby said, “but I’d like to hang out with Dylan. I haven’t seen him all day.”

  “I understand,” I said. Although I wasn’t sure if I did. I hadn’t eaten with my true love the last few months so I could avoid turmoil with my friends. My friends couldn’t miss a day for me?

  Ivy didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to.

  “It’s okay,” I said to her. “I’ll see you after lunch.”

  “You have to eat with us!” she begged. “It’s what Nash really wants.”

  “Why do I have to do everything for Nash?” I asked.

  Ivy was hurt. “Everything is changing!” she exclaimed as if her world were crumbling down around her. “You have to stop being Mother Teresa.”

  I didn’t understand this whole clique mentality. If I had my way, everyone in the school would just sit at one big table.

  “Where are you going to eat?” she asked, worried.

  “I may just go to the library and read. I’m not very hungry anyway.”

  I was upset. I wasn’t sitting next to Brandon to get back at Nash or to prove anything to him; I was doing it to show Brandon support. But Nash was striking back in a big way by inviting Heidi Rosen to sit in my seat at our table. I was stung with jealousy, not so much about Nash, but about my friends, as I headed out of the cafeteria and saw Heidi across from Ivy and Abby. Were my best friends going to replace me, too?

  I longed to sit next to Brandon, like yesterday when I got to have my leg and ankle touch his. Maybe if he was smooth enough, Brandon would grab my hand underneath the table. I imagined us all together, Ivy and Jake, Abby and Dylan, and me and Brandon. He would be a star to them, joining us at campfires on his hilltop, hiking, and skating on his frozen pond. And when he turned into were-form he’d be the handsome and heroic member of our group. But was I open enough to have Nash bring along Heidi? We girls were a threesome, and I’m not sure that I was ready for Ivy and Abby to have a new best friend.