Kicking the stuff aside, he smiled down at me. “Actually, I was coming to tell you you’ve completed your work sessions.”
“Oops,” I said. I smiled in the hope that he’d let my snarky comment slide. “So, I’m all cured, then? I don’t have to do any therapy stuff with you?” I asked.
“Working on yourself is an ongoing process. Dr. Wanda has offered to give you individual appointments if you think you need them.”
Ugh. I shivered on the inside. “No way. I mean, no, I don’t think that’ll be necessary, thanks anyway.”
He nodded, slipping his hands into the front pockets of his khaki shorts, which just seemed to make his tummy stick out more. I expected him to leave, but he kept hanging.
“So, was there something else?” I asked. I scratched my cheeks against the shoulder of my yellow Juicy T-shirt—not the best weeding attire, but wash day wasn’t until next Monday, and I was nearly out of clean Ts.
“I wondered if you thought over what we talked about,” he said.
“I knew this was going to be about my mom dying again,” I said, rolling my eyes.
He smiled and took a seat next to me on the ground. “You know, when something bad happens and you don’t get a chance to get those feelings out, you delay the pain, but you don’t get rid of it. It stays inside you, taking up space.”
“I guess.”
Mr. Winters shrugged. “I’ve heard you talk about being angry at your stepmother, but how about your father? What’s going on there?”
“It’s not good,” I said quietly.
He nodded. “It hasn’t been easy for either of you.”
“Yeah. I guess.” I brushed a clump of dirt off my leg. I didn’t want to look Mr. Winters in the eye. I didn’t want to think about how hard it’d been for my dad. That stuff about delaying pain—that’s what he’d done in marrying Priscilla. I mean, how could he have mourned Mom and moved on so quickly? It still felt so fresh to me.
Mr. Winters nodded. “Okay, then we’re done here. I’ve told Cynthia to expect you in about ten minutes over at the talent show rehearsals.”
“I’m not performing,” I said with a shrug. “I’m helping with scenery.”
He gave me a small smile. “That’s great. We all have different talents.”
“So I’m supposed to just leave all this?” I gestured to my unfinished flower bed and the small pots of violets and pansies waiting to be planted.
“There’s always someone who could use a morning gardening,” Mr. Winters said, taking the tools I handed him. “And if you’d try to have some fun now that the work’s over, Shelby, I’d appreciate it.”
In the gym my favorite werewolf stood poised with a paintbrush. In front of him white clouds swirled over dark blue sky, and green thickets of vines twined up the sides of the canvas flats. Little birds perched on rose branches near a stone fountain gushing clear sparkling water. It was a forest paradise.
“Austin,” I said as I approached, “this is amazing.”
He turned, half smiling. “Ariel kept mentioning a forbidden forest, so I painted it for her. Ah…you weren’t here, so I began. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Mind? Holy crap! This is the most beautiful scenery I’ve ever seen.”
“Oh. Well, thank you.” A blush crept into Austin’s cheeks, which made me smile. “I do a bit of sketching.” He set his paintbrush down onto an aluminum pie tin he was using as a palette.
“So, what are we doing?”
He wiped his hands on a cloth. “It seems Price and Ariel decided on Beauty and the Beast this morning. Ariel will write; Price will direct.”
“Beauty and the Beast?” I blinked at him. “Um…”
“The fairy tale, not the Disney movie,” Austin said. “Ariel argued with Price about the corporate implications.”
“Oh. And you’re okay with Beauty and the Beast?”
“I’m just doing the scenery, Shelby. Nothing more.”
“No, I mean…”
“I’m well aware of the story,” Austin said, sitting down next to me. Up close, I could see a little splotch of yellow paint, round as a moon, on his cheek. I wanted to rub it off, but I didn’t.
“Listen, I wanted to tell you something, but I didn’t get a chance at breakfast with everyone around,” I said. “Last night Charles was on the path when I walked back to my cabin. He obviously was stalking you. He’s trying to make you into some kind of tabloid story.”
Austin shook his head. “I’d already figured as much.”
“No, I don’t think you get it. He’s a serious problem,” I said. “What if he has a camera and gets pictures of you changing or whatever?”
“They confiscated all cameras,” Austin said.
“He’s sneaky. And you have stuff you’re not supposed to have, like your matches. He could have a camera.”
Austin smiled grimly. “If I don’t get the serum in the next two days, I’m not going to be around for him to take snapshots.”
I felt a little sinking feeling in my stomach. “You’d leave? You said there was no reason to worry, that you don’t attack people.”
“And I meant it.” Austin’s mouth pulled into a grim line. “I thought I could just hide out in the woods around the cabins at night, but it’s too risky. Someone might see me. I can’t put my family in jeopardy.” He stared down at his hands, one finger scratching at some red paint speckles. “You’re only the second person I’ve ever told my secret to,” he said quietly.
“Who was the other one?”
He studied my face for a moment and then said, “Jillian Montrose.”
I inhaled a deep breath. “The girl who spread the rumors.”
He nodded. “We were schoolmates when I was twelve. My first crush, I guess you could say. I told her the truth and she laughed and told me being a werewolf was fine because she was a sorceress.”
My eyes widened. “And was she?”
“No, no. She was playing along. We were the best of friends. But then her family came to our estate for the weekend when my father was away touring Japan. No one realized I was on the edge of my first change.”
“Nothing happened, right?”
“It was the weekend of a bloody full moon, Shelby.”
My heart stilled. “Oh, no.”
“It was a summer night, and Jillian and I were up late watching the telly. We went out to the garden to get some air. She was dipping her toes into the fountain while I was picking strawberries near the fence. But then the moonlight hit me. The next thing I knew I was transforming into my wolf body. It terrified me. I’m not certain what Jillian saw, but as I ran off into the woods to hide, I heard her screaming. In the morning I woke naked in an open field. When I made it home, my governess had the police searching for me, and Jillian’s family was tearing down the drive in their Range Rover. They thought something awful had happened to her.”
My skin prickled with goose bumps. “So she saw you change,” I said. “And she freaked out.”
“I don’t know. It’s all a blur. But I didn’t attack her; I ran away—afraid of what I had become. The constable leaked the story of the incident to the London press, and the rest of the year was a nightmare. Jillian kept quiet—but she never spoke to me again. I probably mentally scarred her for life. I still feel horrible about the whole thing.”
“Austin, I’m sorry that happened to you.”
He looked embarrassed. “Forgive me. I don’t mean to burden you with more confessions.” He paused, squeezing my hand. “But now you see that I can’t take a chance with the press again, even if it means I leave someone I care for. And I do care for you. You must know that.”
There was a tender look in his eyes now, and it only added to the mixture of attraction and fear I was feeling. I forced myself to breathe. He was waiting for me to say something, so I mumbled, “Yeah.”
“I haven’t experienced the lunar change in years—since that first time. I’ve heard it can be unpredictable. And now that I’m grown,
I imagine it will be stronger than it was before.” Austin looked out across the gym at the other groupings of kids working on their sets and costumes. “I hate this,” he said finally. “I would rather be anything but this.”
My heart smashed into a thousand little pieces for him. I felt the need to say something, anything, to make him feel better. But I didn’t know what that might be. I could see why he hated the change, why he suppressed the wolf. There was reason for him, and maybe for all of us, to be scared. But at the same time, this boy was just Austin. An artistic, caring, intelligent guy who was anything but beastly.
“So, what can I do to help you? I mean, with the sets,” I added, clearly needing to change the subject. I pushed the wolf out of my mind and focused on the cute boy in front of me.
Austin gestured toward the paints and brushes. “You could fill in the leaves on the rosebush,” he said.
I nodded and stood up.
“Shelby, thank you for listening.”
“That’s what friends are for.”
He smiled weakly and got up. “I haven’t many of those. You’re the first in a long, long time. As you can imagine, it’s near impossible to trust anyone.”
“Yeah, I can see.”
He gave me a grateful look and then walked over and picked up his paint palette and brush. We worked without talking until we had finished the forest tableau. Of course, I only added a few highlights here and there to the beautiful scene Austin had crafted, but when we were done, I felt a sense of satisfaction. We’d created a perfect, idealized background for Beauty and the Beast. And I didn’t want to think about what that symbolized any more than Austin did.
ELEVEN
Take the raffia and simply twist it into bird wings like so,” Dr. Wanda said, running a special arts and crafts session the next day after lunch.
The other counselors had some kind of meeting, so instead of cramming into the tiny art studio, all of us campers were in the dining hall, spread out among the lunch tables. Hardly anyone was paying attention to Dr. Wanda.
“Then, using another piece of twine, tie those wings to the body of the bird,” she said, walking between the tables and then stopping at mine. “Austin, there’s room over here. Why don’t you join this group?”
My head jerked up. I hadn’t seen him at breakfast, and I had been wondering what he was up to. My heart beat a little faster just seeing him in the entry of the dining hall. He wore a black T-shirt and jeans, his brown hair pushed back behind his ears. He saw me and smiled. I let out a breath I’d been holding. He looked so normal. Well, gorgeous and normal.
Dr. Wanda waved Austin over to our table. “Just start here. Price can show you what to do.”
“Sure thing, Dr. Wanda.” Wearing his usual grin, Price slid his project down the table to make room, so that Austin was directly across from me. “Here’s some raffia,” Price said, handing him some materials. “We’re making big ol’ birds.”
“Thanks, mate. Hello, Shelby,” he said.
“Hey,” I said casually, but my voice sounded small and far away. My palms felt sweaty, so I wiped them on my shorts.
“Okay, what you do is…” Price began, rattling off the bird directions Austin had missed.
“Hey, Dr. Wanda! Mine looks like a spider,” Jenna said a minute later, waving her hand to get Dr. Wanda’s attention. “Have you had formal art training or did they teach you this in shrink school?”
Dr. Wanda smoothed her frizzy bangs and then pulled at the hem of her shirt, which barely covered her round middle. Obviously, the woman was trying to keep it together. If it were me, I’d probably have told Jenna where to stick it, but Dr. Wanda managed to smile. “All of us are making birds that express our individuality. Every bird has a chance to fly, eight legs or not.”
Jenna grunted and went back to tying her deformed wings.
“We’ll be having a fire circle ceremony on the full moon tomorrow night,” Dr. Wanda continued. “Your bird represents the old you, and by burning it in the bonfire you’ll be releasing your new spirit to fly.”
“Burning them is supposed to help them fly?” Jenna said, rolling her eyes. “That is such crap. I hope this raffia isn’t treated with toxic elements that’ll form dangerous fumes when it’s incinerated.”
Dr. Wanda smiled, still ignoring Jenna. “The full moon is the perfect time for beginnings. Many ancient societies believed full moons possess magic.”
Price grinned. “That’s a big night in Savannah. Voodoo priestesses, cemeteries at midnight, all that.”
“You actually believe in that drivel?” asked Austin with a nervous laugh.
“My momma says it’s true, and I don’t need to find out for myself,” said Price. He gave the sleeves of his rugby shirt a little push up his forearms and went to work tying on big, goofy bird wings.
“I need to talk to you,” Ariel whispered and led me over to the supply table. “I think Price really likes me,” she said, pulling more blue raffia from a box. “Did you see him take my tray to the kitchen at breakfast? I didn’t even ask him to do it!”
“Yeah. He’s sweet.”
“Shelby, you don’t understand,” Ariel said, grabbing my arm. “He’s the first guy to like me in a long time.”
“Didn’t you have a boyfriend back at school?”
Ariel colored slightly. “Which one—St. Augustine’s in Zurich or Fulton Prep in upstate New York or Oceanside Academy in Orange County?”
“That sucks. It’s hard to keep a boyfriend when you keep switching schools.”
“Yeah, it doesn’t help when they’re all-girl schools to start with.”
“No!” I said, a little too loudly. Everyone stared at me, forgetting all about their dumb raffia birds. Way to go, Shelby.
“Problems?” Dr. Wanda was one of those adults who could sneak up on you in milliseconds without any sound.
“She’s great. Upset about her crappy wings,” Ariel said, holding up my lopsided bird, which was, obviously, not my best work.
“We all have crappy wings. The challenge is to use them to fly,” Dr. Wanda said. She gave me a pat on one of my shoulders. “You can do it, Shelby.”
“I think I’m gonna puke,” Jenna said, making a gagging motion over at the table.
“Oh, just make your bird,” I growled at her.
Dr. Wanda walked on, leaving Ariel and me alone.
“You poor thing,” I said. “No guys?”
“No,” Ariel said. “I’m not sure what to do about Price.” She met my eyes for a second, looking slightly embarrassed, and then started straightening one of her bird’s legs.
“You don’t do anything, okay?” I said. “It’s just like being friends, but then, one day, you’ll know if you really like him, and things change. It happens on its own.”
“So, um…” She smiled shyly at me. “What do I do if he wants to make out?”
“If you want to do it, then do it,” I said. “But be sure it’s for real, Ariel.”
Chewing her lip, she glanced at me in the mirror. “Is it real with you and Austin? I mean, I think you guys are great together. He’s gorgeous. He’s talented.”
He’s a werewolf, I wanted to add.
“Well, he’s definitely different from other guys I’ve known,” I said. For half a sec I considered spilling my guts, but of course that would have been a terrible idea.
She shook her head. “Austin’s not that different. He’s just your average son of a rock star. Trust me, I’ve known a few.”
“Yeah, I guess…”
“What’s wrong?” Ariel smiled uneasily.
I shook my head. “Nothing.”
She sighed. “If you’re worried about his problem, just don’t get sucked in. Isn’t that what Dr. Wanda said yesterday in girls’ group? You can only be responsible for yourself.”
I took a piece of green raffia and added it to my wings. I thought about that whole wanting-to-help thing I did and about how maybe that was all about taking responsibility for other
people and their choices instead of letting them just deal. But what if the other person had no choice? What if you were the only person who got their problem at all? What if that person wasn’t even a person? It was way complicated.
“He’s got to do it on his own,” Ariel said.
“Yeah.” I twisted the raffia round and round the bird and avoided looking over at Austin. The thing was, I didn’t think he actually needed my help—there wasn’t anything I could do for him. He just didn’t want to bear his secret on his own anymore. He didn’t want to be alone. I looked over at him, building his crooked bird with straw, making it into something artistic and beautiful—and I felt his pain more deeply than ever before.
“Welcome to Camp Crescent’s Talent Night!” Mr. Winters’s voice boomed across the barnlike gym and the crowd went wild. Well, as wild as campers who’d suffered through another night of bad cooking could go. “We’ve got a great lineup, campers! Flashlight jugglers, a skit about the counselors—heh-heh—can’t wait for that one, also a poetry reading, and so much more! So let’s get started!”
Everyone cheered again. I actually clapped, too. I was psyched to see Ariel on stage.
Then Mr. Winters said, “Okay, folks, our first act is a number from our own songstress Cynthia Crumb!”
The cheering stopped. Cynthia trotted out on stage with her guitar and stepped up to the mic. The room filled with the strange first chords of “Beautiful” by Christina Aguilera.
“Where’s your guy?” asked Jenna, who had taken a seat next to mine. “Oh, oops—did he dump you or something?”
I gave her a look, which she totally deserved. “You are as bad as Charles. Maybe you guys should go out,” I said.
“Actually, he’s kind of cute.”
I didn’t bother pointing out all the flaws in that theory because at that moment Charles slid into the chair on the other side of me. Suddenly, my bad mood got worse.
“Hey,” he said casually.
On stage, Cynthia wrapped up her guitar-pop set and, frowning at the audience’s lack of reaction, stormed out of the spotlight.
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