Monday was President’s Day. No school. My alarm clock sat in silence. My pillow felt soft. Parakeets squawked outside my bedroom window. Something fell in the kitchen. Probably a lizard scurrying about. It wasn’t my uncle. His scent was gone.
My senses were in overdrive, as they always were approaching the full moon. They felt almost natural, like the wolf was part of me. In two days, I would shift. The thought sickened me, so I pushed it out of my mind. No sense in worrying. Nothing I could do to stop it.
I showered, ate, and hopped on my bike. The sky was clear, the breeze warm, and the ride into town barely tapped my new super strength. Parking outside the Video Stop, I hurried inside. Cool air smelling strongly of plastic chilled my damp skin. Brittany sat behind the counter. She smiled at me, and the room lit up.
“Hi,” I said. “How are you?”
“Glad to see you. I could use some company.”
“Quiet morning?”
“The worst.” She stretched and yawned. “Everyone’s probably sleeping in.”
Was that a dig? It was nearly noon. “Sorry I’m late.”
“I was beginning to think your uncle grabbed you for his big project.” She brought a tall stool around the counter and went back for another. “He’s running out of time.”
“Why? What’s he doing?”
“You don’t know?” She looked at me. “He’s at Jana’s house making one of those fake waterfalls with all the rocks and the koi pond and everything. He needs to get it done before the big party.”
“Whoa.” That was a big project. I remembered my parents doing that back home. The landscaper had a mini-bulldozer. “That’s a lot of work for one man. I wonder why he didn’t ask me to help.”
“He probably didn’t want to distract you from the FCAT last week.”
“They were testing the teachers, not me.”
“But you were doing the work.” She smiled. “You probably got a hundred percent.”
“You, too.”
“Not me. I don’t like to score higher than eighty. High enough to keep my mother off my back, but not so high as to draw attention.”
“You throw your grades?” A laugh threatened my better sense.
Her face darkened. “I didn’t one year. My father got mad. He said he wouldn’t have a snooty show-off for a daughter.”
I went cold. “What did he do?”
“What he always did.” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. He lives in Georgia.”
I wanted so much to take her hand, to comfort her about what was obviously a bad memory. I wondered what kind of father would yell at a kid for being smart. Brittany and her family lived with her dad’s father after the divorce. Grandpa Earle must take the mother’s side.
The pause in conversation made me uncomfortable, so I got up to browse the sci-fi aisle.
After a moment, Brittany walked toward me. “See anything good?”
“Yeah. You have a nice selection.”
“Pick out something. We can make Thursdays our standing movie night.”
My heart sped. A movie night? We spent the last two Thursdays watching DVDs. Had she thought of them as dates? It sounded too good to be true. Nothing would make me happier than to have a standing date.
But this Thursday was the full moon. I couldn’t.
“Sorry,” I said. “I’m busy this Thursday.”
She frowned. “You said you were busy on Friday.”
“That, too.”
“All right.” Brittany sighed. “How about Wednesday?”
“I can’t,” I said, then trying to diffuse her sharp look, added, “But we can do something tomorrow night if you want to.”
She started walking way, then stopped and turned back. “You’re going out with her, aren’t you?”
I blinked. “Who?”
“Jana. I’ve seen how she looks at you. Rich girls always fall for the bad boys. It ticks off their fathers.”
I moved close, smiling and dropping my voice. “You think I’m a bad boy?”
“Cody, just go. I’ve got work to do.”
I glanced around. “I’m the only one here.”
“I’m serious.” She stomped back to the stools and dragged them out of sight.
I felt a hot surge of anger. I wanted to grab her waist, lean her back against the counter, and kiss her hard on the lips. I’d show her how a bad boy acted. I’d show them all. So, rich girl Jana had a thing for me, did she? I wondered how she’d feel when she found out my parents could buy hers.
With my fists clenched, I approached Brittany. She studied a shipping invoice and did not look up. I wanted to shake her and roar look at me.
But that was the wolf talking.
“I’m not going out with anyone,” I said.
How could she accuse me? Didn’t she know how much I loved her?
“Leave,” she said, her voice crackly.