Free Magic of the Moonlight: A Full Moon Novel by Ellen Schreiber Page B
Authors: Ellen Schreiber
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
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