Magic of the Moonlight

by Ellen Schreiber

  “Stop shaking the table,” she said. “You’re making me seasick.”

  “I have something to tell you,” I said intently.

  “Wow, Celeste,” Abby said, “you look like you have major news.”

  “Are you and Nash engaged?” Ivy teased, putting her compact in her purse.

  “It’s about Brandon,” I said.

  “Brandon?” Abby asked.

  “You want us to invite him somewhere else again?” Ivy asked. “I think we’ve done enough babysitting. Besides, Jake is getting really freaked out that we’ve been including him. I think he gets jealous. I mean, he has nothing to worry about, though—as if!”

  Ivy was making this difficult confession even more challenging. “No,” I said. “It’s not that.”

  “Then what?” Abby asked.

  “I have a confession.”

  “Oh . . .” Abby said. “Sounds serious. What is it?”

  “Did you paint Brandon’s Jeep?” Ivy asked.

  “No!” I said.

  “Then what is it?” she said, waiting for details.

  “I like . . .uh . . . I . . .”

  “Just spill it out!” Ivy ordered.

  “I like Brandon!” I exclaimed. There it was. I’d laid out my confession to my friends. It was like a huge weight off of me. I only had to wait now for their response.

  “Brandon?” Ivy asked, shocked.

  “Duh,” Abby said.

  Ivy and I were surprised by Abby’s response.

  “What?” we both said.

  “You talk about him all the time,” Abby said. “Trying to invite him everywhere we go.”

  “So you knew?” I asked.

  “This is the secret Dr. Meadows told me a friend would be keeping from me!” Ivy screeched. “I can’t believe you told Abby first!”

  “She didn’t,” Abby said in a huff. “It was intuition—I just knew.”

  “I haven’t told anyone,” I proclaimed.

  “It’s okay,” Ivy said, resigned. “We all get crushes on people. And I guess I can see why you’d feel sympathy for your pet project. It’s only natural. I think you’ve got that Stockholm syndrome thing.”

  “It’s more than that,” I said. “I’ve been seeing him.”

  Both girls gasped.

  “What?” Ivy said. “What do you mean? You’ve—”

  “Kissed Brandon Maddox?” Abby asked.

  “Girls, keep it down over there—” the librarian admonished us.

  I nodded.

  “I don’t believe you,” Ivy said.

  “I do,” Abby said. “He’s hot—except for being a Westsider and all.”

  Abby smiled. There was a tiny rebellious streak that ran through her and, though she’d never be seen dating a Westsider, my news was wildly thrilling to her.

  “I can’t believe this,” Ivy said, trying to process the information. “But I’m glad you told us right away. We can help you now.”

  “So when did this happen?” Abby asked.

  “Uh . . . a few months ago,” I said, baring my soul.

  “A few months ago?” Ivy asked, shocked again.

  I nodded.

  “And you didn’t tell me—your best friend since first grade?” she asked.

  “I’m her best friend, too!” Abby said.

  “I can’t believe you!” Ivy said. “You’ve been secretly dating Brandon Maddox and you didn’t tell your own best friend?”

  “Best friends,” Abby reiterated.

  “I wanted to—in fact I even tried.”

  Abby had a hard time controlling her smile.

  “I guess you don’t think that much of me, do you?” Ivy asked with disappointment in her voice. “All this time, not saying a word. You obviously don’t think anything of our friendship—or me.”

  Ivy was mad—or, rather, disappointed.

  “But you always teased him.” I defended myself. “How could I?”

  “I don’t know. . . . But you should have.” Ivy gathered her purse and backpack. “I don’t care that he’s a Westsider, Celeste. I’ve only wanted what was best for you. So maybe I was wrong. But at least I was honest with you, something you obviously didn’t feel you could be with me.”

  “It didn’t happen like that, Ivy. Let me explain.”

  Ivy turned her nose up and stood.

  “What are you doing?” Abby asked.

  “I can’t sit here anymore. Not with her.”

  “Ivy,” I said, “let’s talk—please.”

  But Ivy was inconsolable. I knew enough about her to know she’d need to cool off. But I’d never been the object of her disappointment, and it broke my heart that I now was. If I had it to do over, I would have loved to have told her sooner. But it was her repulsion toward the Westsiders that made it so hard to do. And whenever I’d tried, for some reason I had failed. And with Nash adding his threat to the mix, it had been put off even longer. My stomach was in knots. My best friend since first grade moved over to the other side of the room to be away from me.

  But, oddly enough, Abby stayed with me.

  “She’ll get over it,” she said.

  “Will she?” I asked.

  “I’ve been keeping a secret as well. Just like Dr. Meadows said I would.”

  “You’re going out with a Westsider, too?” I tried to make myself laugh.

  “No!” Abby said. “And Ivy will be mad with this one as well.”

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Since you’ve confessed,” she said, “I’ll confess, too.” She paused. “But you may be really mad.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t tell me. I feel upset enough for one day.”

  “But I want to tell you. Promise you won’t be mad?”

  “Uh . . . sure.”

  Abby took a deep breath. “I know who painted Brandon’s Jeep and locker.”

  “Nash?”

  She shook her head, then leaned into me and whispered. “Jake and Dylan.”

  “What?” I exclaimed.

  “I found out a while ago when I saw some paint in Dylan’s car. He promised not to do it again.”

  “Why did they do that?”

  “To get back at Ivy and me. They were jealous of Brandon. Silly, huh?”

  “Why would they be jealous of Brandon?”

  “I guess Dylan felt threatened after Brandon returned Pumpkin. I hugged Brandon in the middle of class, remember? I invited him to my party. Ivy picked him up. It didn’t go over very well. Even Ivy just told you she could tell Jake was jealous.”

  “Wow—I never would have thought it was them.”

  “Are you mad that I didn’t tell you?”

  “No, I understand.”

  “I kind of thought you would—but Ivy, she’s going to be livid.”

  “Yes, I guess she will.”

  “And are you mad at Jake and Dylan? Please don’t be. They were doing it because of us—more so than because of Brandon.”

  “No,” I said, my spirit still low from Ivy’s anger. “It wasn’t nice, but they did use water-based paints.”

  “I am so relieved now that I’ve told you.”

  “Me too,” I said truthfully, even though I felt low.

  “That’s what friends are for,” Abby said.

  “Yes, we should have done this a while ago,” I said, breaking a smile.

  While Abby tied her hair into a ponytail, I pondered my future with my first best friend.

  “Do you think Ivy will ever forgive me?” I asked.

  “Perhaps after she forgives me,” Abby said.

  I gazed at my best friend, who had her back to me, while Abby was still focused on me.

  “You have to tell me everything,” she said. “Where, when, and why? And is Brandon a good kisser?”

  I couldn’t help but grin and nodded enthusiastically.

  “And most important,” she asked, “what are you going to do now?”

  Ivy continued to ignore me for the rest of the day. She talked to Abby but sh
unned me, sat on the opposite end of our lunch table, and didn’t wait for me after any of our classes. I was truly relieved my friends knew about Brandon but upset that Ivy was so angry with me. However, I understood her feelings. And I think she was right to feel them.

  “I told Ivy and Abby,” I said to Brandon after school.

  “That I’m a werewolf?” he asked, surprised.

  “No, silly. About us.”

  “What?” he asked, confused. “But I thought we were going to wait until I got a cure.”

  “I know. But Nash can’t say anything now. He owes you his life. And he knows we could tell everyone he wasn’t the one who drove the wolf away.”

  “Wow . . .” he said, the news finally soaking in. “So you told Ivy and Abby about us?” he asked, flattered. “How did they take it?

  “Ivy hates me, and Abby admires me.”

  “Well—I’m sorry about Ivy . . . but Abby?”

  “She thinks it’s cool that—in her mind—I’m rebellious. But I’m not being rebellious. I just want to be with you.”

  He gave me a squeeze.

  “Well, that’s a shame about Ivy,” he said. “I’m sure she’ll come around. I guess she really detests Westsiders.”

  “No—it’s me. She’s upset I didn’t think enough of her to share the truth with her right away. I do understand her feelings. And I wanted to tell her sooner—but this town is so divided, and she has always claimed to hate the Westside. I didn’t want her to be mad, and I wound up making her upset anyway.”

  “It’s okay, all of your intentions were good.”

  “I really am sad she’s so upset with me.”

  “Maybe it’s best if you eat lunch with her for a while longer.”

  “What? I thought you’d want us to start doing things together in public.”

  “It can wait. Don’t get me wrong—I’m dying to be with you. But Ivy’s been your best friend since you were kids. It’s better to show allegiance to her than a guy you just met this year.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. I can wait. But she better get over it soon!” he said.

  Brandon not only was a great boyfriend but a great friend, too.

  For the rest of the day and evening my calls and texts to Ivy remained unanswered. I was wondering when Abby would tell her secret to Ivy, too, and be in the doghouse with me.

  THIRTEEN

  something blue

  The following morning, Nash stumbled into class. His hair wasn’t gelled and meticulously unkempt but rather tousled as if he’d just crawled out of bed. His eyelids were droopy and his preppy clothes were wrinkled, with half of his polo collar sticking up. He carried his books like they were a football.

  A few of the girls snickered at his appearance.

  “Had a late night with Celeste?” Dylan asked.

  Nash high-fived him. But we girls knew differently.

  Abby winked at me while Ivy didn’t even turn around.

  The next several days, Nash continued to arrive late for class, and Ivy continued to ignore my pleas for forgiveness.

  “I’m benched for a few baseball practices until this thing heals,” Nash said, looking bummed at lunch.

  Ivy still sat on the opposite end of the table from me. The tension was as thick as the meat loaf the cafeteria served.

  Her scorn didn’t go unnoticed by the guys at the table.

  “You barely even look at Celeste,” Dylan said. “Catfight?”

  “You can ask her,” Ivy said.

  “Nothing wrong over here,” I said.

  “She would think that,” I heard her mumble.

  “We are one big, happy family,” Abby said to Dylan.

  Abby was stuck in the middle of our feud and was doing her best not to draw attention to it.

  But I was dying inside. My best friend was now acting as if I were her enemy—and maybe to her I was. It turned me inside out and made me upset to be ignored—especially by my own best friend.

  I decided to do something about it, sooner rather than later.

  “I want to make a peace offering to Ivy,” I said to Abby later that day.

  “Are you sure?” she asked. Abby hadn’t told Ivy her secret; if Ivy and I reconciled, then she’d be the odd girl out once she revealed hers.

  “I can’t take her ignoring me any longer.”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “Go back to Dr. Meadows’s shop.”

  Abby perked up. “For another fortune?”

  “No, I want to avoid that at all costs.”

  “Then what for?”

  “Something blue.”

  Abby and I entered Penny for Your Thoughts, and I rushed over to one of the jewelry tables with bated breath, hoping the earrings were still there. I spun the rack of earrings around when I saw the blue crystals glistening back at me.

  “Can I be mad at you, too?” Abby asked as I held up the sparkling jewelry in the light.

  The earrings were way more than I’d ever spent on jewelry for myself or my friends. I was known more to make earrings or buy them at mall boutiques. But these were real rocks, not plastic, and cost the amount of two trips to the movies including a tub of popcorn. But today I was going to splurge for the girl who had always saved a seat on the bus for me for the past eleven years.

  I was nervous about seeing Dr. Meadows, however.

  “Hello, ladies . . .” she said as she greeted us at the counter. “Where is your friend?”

  “Ivy?” Abby said. “We are here for a surprise. But you probably already knew,” she said with a giggle.

  I didn’t want to give any information to Dr. Meadows—my plan was to get in the shop, pay, and get out without so much as a future warning about moons.

  But Abby was all about telling Dr. Meadows our story, like she was a therapist instead of a psychic.

  “Yes. She’s a bit mad, and Celeste thought it would be awesome to give her a ‘forgive me’ gift.”

  “Uh . . . yes,” I politely agreed. “Ivy really liked these earrings last time we were here.”

  “Well, that is a good friend,” Dr. Meadows said, “to think that much of her to remember what she liked and buy them for her. I can’t imagine why she’d be mad at you.”

  “She’s mad because Celeste was going out with this guy and she didn’t tell her.”

  Abby couldn’t stop talking to Dr. Meadows.

  I rolled my eyes. I felt like I was with my mother when she’d blab my bra size to the saleswoman even though I could look in the bin myself. Too much information.

  “Ahh . . . you have a boyfriend?”

  I shrugged my shoulders.

  “But I think I already knew that,” she said.

  “You did?” Abby said, surprised. “Celeste told you? Ah . . . of course you knew. You read her mind.”

  But in fact I was the one who had told Dr. Meadows that I had feelings for a guy who I thought was changing into a werewolf.

  “I’d just like to buy these, please,” I said, trying to change the subject.

  “So who is this mystery man?” Dr. Meadows pried. She knew whoever he was must be the guy that I thought was a werewolf but refused to reveal to her.

  I wasn’t about to tell her. Not now or ever.

  “It’s Brandon Maddox!” Abby blurted out. “Do you know him? He lives around here.”

  My mouth dropped wide open. I was shocked and horrified by Abby’s blabbing. I didn’t even have the chance to hush, nudge, or quiet her before his name and location were handed to the one woman I didn’t want to have the information.

  “No, I don’t think I know him,” Dr. Meadows said.

  I was only slightly relieved, because as long as she knew his name, she could search him out.

  “Is he related to Sophie and Franklin Maddox?” Dr. Meadows suddenly asked.

  Those were Brandon’s grandparents, but I wasn’t about to give her any more information.

  “I think it’s time we go,” I said. “Abby is almost
late for volleyball practice.”

  “Oh, yes,” Abby said, realizing the time.

  I handed Dr. Meadows my money, and she placed the earrings in a box.

  “Would you like me to wrap this?” she asked.

  “No, thank you,” I said hurriedly. “I can do that at home.”

  “Please come again, girls, and bring Ivy with you. I know she’ll cool off after she sees what she means to you.”

  That was one prediction she’d made that I hoped would come true.

  “Okay!” we both said as we headed for the door.

  “Oh, and Celeste,” she called after me. “Be sure to bring Brandon, too.”

  I scowled inside but smiled sweetly on the outside. Before she could come from behind the counter and attempt to give me another of her unwanted psychic predictions, I raced out of the shop and into the safety of my car.

  The next morning, I unlocked Ivy’s locker. We all knew one another’s combos as if they were our own. The inside of her locker was decorated with pictures of our sixsome together.

  I placed the package I’d wrapped with pink paper and a whimsical purple bow on the top shelf, along with a card I’d made for her.

  I waited at the end of the hallway with a watchful gaze. When she arrived at her locker and opened it, she picked up the gift.

  “It’s from Celeste,” she whispered. She must have recognized my handwriting.

  Abby nodded. “You should open it.”

  “Of course I’m going to open it. It’s a present. Hey, maybe this is that unexpected gift Dr. Meadows told me about!”

  Ivy opened the card and read my touching note. “Aww . . .” she said.

  Then she unwrapped the gift.

  “She bought me the earrings I loved!” she said. “That was so nice of her!”

  I headed over to her locker as she caught sight of me.

  “I’m sorry—” I began.

  “Me too!” She opened her arms for a best friends embrace. “I missed you!”