Эллен Шрайбер: Once in a Full Moon

“Oh yes. You remind me of my wife when she was very young. We met here in Legend’s Run.”

I nodded. I’d heard that story many times but tried to pay attention as if I were listening to it for the first time.

“When we were young, Legend’s Run was still a farming and mill town along the river. Not like now, where custom homes dot the landscape.

“But in the last fifty years the mill closed and people moved away from the town and came from the neighboring cities and developed the eastern side of Legend’s Run. The Westside farmers continue to maintain their land. The east side became too congested and Riverside’s commercial property too vacant. We moved away to New York, and eventually the rest of the Worthington family moved on, too.”

My eyes had half glazed over and I tried my best to listen, as I’d heard this story countless times. “Did you miss it here?” I asked when he paused.

“Yes. And so did my wife. I promised her we’d return to Legend’s Run to ride out our years that remained. I am a man of my word,” he said with a grin.

There was one story I hadn’t heard from Mr. Worthington. “And the werewolf? Did he live on the Westside or the East?”

The elderly man perked up even more. He was poised to tell his tale.

“The creature calls the woods his home. Where he can hide from curious people and most importantly from the threat of the full moon. Since the moon can appear to us as full for several days, it makes the werewolf that much more tormented. It was many years ago when he was first spotted in one of the tree-filled areas along Riverside,” he whispered. “But you must never go in the woods alone, a girl like you.”

We reached the dining room, and a staff member approached Mr. Worthington.

The dining room was full of residents and staff wearing my handmade pins.

“It’s the Legend’s Run werewolf,” the aide announced. Several residents clapped.

I watched as the elderly resident was treated by his peers as if he were a celebrity.

“Please remind him to remove those fangs before he eats,” I said to the aide as I made a weary exit.

That night Ivy hosted a Halloween party at her über-house — five bedrooms, a three-car garage, and a basement that could entertain our entire school.

Ivy opened the door dressed like a runway model, in a black-and-white minidress and white patent-leather go-go boots. Abby stood next to her brandishing a big smile, two pigtails, and a borrowed cheerleading uniform — complete with an “LR” letter and spirit buttons. I felt worse for the wear in my homemade costume.

“I want to go back and change,” I said, still standing on the stoop.

“What gives?” Ivy said. “You look so cute!”

“I…”

“Get in here,” Ivy said.

“No, I think I’d feel better if I changed into something else.”

“Your outfit is ten times more creative than ours,” Abby said.

“But—”

“No buts! Just get yours in here.” She took my wrist and dragged me inside.

There were already a few of our classmates milling about her home, trying to talk over the pounding music.

“Have the guys arrived?” I asked.

“Not yet, but I can’t wait until they do. I’m sure their costumes will be killer.”

“How was Pine Tree?” Abby asked. “I bet one of those old men might leave you something when…”

“That’s morbid—” Ivy said. “That’s not why Celeste volunteers there.”

“I know,” Abby said, “but it could be one of the perks.”

Just then the front door burst open and we could hear Jake and Dylan’s voices.

“They’re here!” Ivy called. My friends eagerly headed for the door, swishing their miniskirts, and I followed, trying not to scrape my heels on her pristine hardwood floors.

Dylan raced around the grand entryway, dressed as Superman. He picked up Abby and she squealed as he pretended to save her.

“And look at your hot outfit!” Jake said with a twang. He had a piece of straw in his mouth, carried a stuffed cow, and was barefoot.

Ivy appeared disappointed and confused.

“What are you?” she asked.

“Duh, I’m a Westsider,” he proclaimed.

I rolled my eyes.

“You’re so ignorant,” Ivy whispered, half horrified. “You’re going to embarrass me at my party.”

“Have you been to the Westside?” he asked.

“I know they wear shoes,” I said, shaking my head.

I looked to Ivy for help.

She reached into my purse and pulled out my eyeliner. She grabbed Jake’s chin with one hand and with the other drew several circles on his face and quickly colored them in.

“What are you doing?” Jake asked, annoyed.

“Now you are as you should be,” Ivy announced. “A cow!”

Everyone laughed — except, of course, for Jake.

“Where is Nash?” I asked, anxious to find him. I was looking forward to seeing what he wore.

“Parking the car,” Dylan said.

I imagined at any minute Nash would be running into the house dressed as a superhero, swooping me up in his arms and carrying me off to safety, or a knight taking me as his princess and challenging any guest who vied for my attention to a duel, or even a rock star who’d get down on one knee and serenade me with a love song.

Instead, Nash entered Ivy’s foyer as he always did — in jeans and a long-sleeved polo.

“What are you?” I asked.

He checked me out — eyeing my short skirt, bare legs, and high heels.

“I guess I’m the Big Bad Wolf!” Nash said as he grabbed me around the waist and pulled me to him. “Grr,” he said with a growl.

The partygoers around us broke out in laughter, as if Nash were a headlining comedian. But I didn’t think his joke was funny.

I felt awkward and even let down, but I didn’t want my true feelings to spoil the party. I did my best to disguise my disappointment by making myself busy and handing out drinks in Ivy’s airplane-hangar-size kitchen.

I watched as Abby and Ivy talked, giggled, and snuggled with their boyfriends. I was excited and flushed and giddy many times when I was with Nash, but I felt something was lacking that my friends had.

“What’s with you?” Nash asked. “You seem aloof.”

“I’m not, I’m just helping Ivy out,” I said.

“Ivy’s making out with Jake. The only thing you can be helping her out with now is giving her an oxygen tank.”

It was odd; Nash and I seemed to sense each other’s feelings when those around us weren’t as in tune.

I was attempting to refill the ice when he took the silver monogrammed bucket from me.

“What’s up, Parker?”

“Nothing,” I said with a forced smile.

“You’re mad that I didn’t come in costume?” he asked.

“I’m not mad…”

“But disappointed.”

I shrugged my shoulders.

“I didn’t know it meant that much to you,” he said.

I gazed down at my shoes.

He took my chin and raised it so I was facing him.

“I guess I should have… it just seems so silly,” he said. He glanced at the crowd, then back at me. “I don’t want to wear a clown wig or Darth Vader mask. You’d think I’d look ridiculous.”

“You’re afraid of what I’d think?” I asked, surprised.

“I guess. You and everyone else.”

“Nash, you are gorgeous,” I said. “No matter what you wore, no one would be laughing at you.”

It was funny to me that deep down inside, the all-star athlete of Legend’s Run High still was insecure.

“Are you just charming me?” I asked.

“Did it work?” he wondered aloud.

I couldn’t help but smile.

But before I knew it, Nash kissed me and I was quickly lost in his lips. At that moment I no longer cared how he was dressed.