Full Moon (2 page)

A plaque set
into the garden’s stone wall made me smile. End of an Era. From the
raised stones peeking behind the garden flowers, this was a
cemetery, not a park. The owner obviously had a sense of humor
along with the desire to create one of those resting places with a
welcome. A twenty-something looking woman whizzed by on roller
blades, waving as she passed.

The pathways were lit up with those new solar green energy
lights. I took the first lane along the outer border and slowed my
pace. The tall slate and marble gravestones were erected on the
left side with an ancient forest lining the right. As I jogged, I
passed through a part of the cemetery that must’ve been the
original lot with worn-down, ancient-looking stones. I paused or
weaved between the stones to read the odd one: “1886 John Hartzel
-- 18 years of age, 1892 Patrick O’Reilly -- died too young, Tammy
Fortune 1802 -1822.”
What’s with this
place? Can’t come here if you’re over thirty?

Squinting, I jogged closer to a raised tombstone with a
concrete angel resting on top. Using my hand, which carried my
iPod, I rested it on the corner of the stone to steady myself. I
leaned forward for a better look at the inscription.
Poor thing, same age as the others.
I straightened and pushed off to finish my run.
The cord from my iPod snagged the angel’s head, yanking the buds
from my ears—the iPod went flying from my hand.

“
Crap!” I skidded to a stop on the damp grass and used my
palms to hug my ears.
It hurt like a
bitch
. I glanced up at the stone figurine
and grimaced. Imagine trying to decapitate an angel.
People were probably rolling in their graves
right now.

Double crap! My iPod. It better not be
busted
. Night had fully descended, which
didn’t work in my favor.
I got down on my
knees and began groping in the dark, futilely trying to scan the
grass. The little solar lights were useless. “
Of course, I had to buy the black case,” I mumbled and
shook my head as I crawled to check under a
nearby bench. Cobwebs caressed my face, which had me doing a karate
twitch dance as I tried to knock off any possible spiders and
remove the webs.

A twig
snapped, followed by a muffled laugh.

I froze, waiting, tense, my head cocked to the side. It was
dead quiet.
As it should be in a
cemetery.
No noise. Not a
sound.

“
Dummy.” I got out from under the bench, sat up and brushed
off my sweatshirt. It’d taken months to save for the iPod. I
dropped down to search again clawing at chunks of grass.
I’m not leaving till I find it, even if I have to
swallow some hairy, icky spiders.

“
You lose something?” A low, gruff voice broke through the
dark. “Or are you digging your own grave?”

Chapter
2

My heart leapt to my throat. I smacked my head on the bottom
of the bench. “Flippin’ heck!” I scrambled back, rubbing the sore
spot, paranoid about how high my butt hung in the air.
My luck, it was probably some graveyard
rapist.

The stranger
said nothing. All I could see was the outline of a pair of dark
with white Converse sneakers. I noisily sucked in a rapid breath,
not realizing I’d held it.

“
Sorry,” the husky male voice said, sounding amused. “I didn't
mean to startle you. This probably isn’t the best place to sneak up
on someone.” He cleared his throat. “Are you looking for
something?”

His voice
turned soft, but masculine. Not the kind of voice you expected to
hear in a cemetery.

Then again,
what kind of voice would one expect to hear?

I glanced up then fell back on my butt. A boy standing a few
feet away from me definitely didn’t belong in a cemetery.
Too tanned, too blond, too…wow,
hot
.

Very tall,
especially from where I sat on the ground. I had to make an effort
to drag my eyes away from his face. Even in the dark, his blue eyes
flashed against the moonlight. He had the blondest hair I’d ever
seen, like a Viking’s.

Not a psycho or kidnapper, just a kid like me.
I relaxed and stood, brushing my shorts.
Why are you in the cemetery?
I didn’t bother to ask. He probably wondered the same about
me. With my luck, he’d just visited his girlfriend’s
tombstone.
Man, I’m awful.

I quickly shut
my mouth, which hung open. Coughing, I spoke a little too loudly.
“I-I lost my iPod.”

Another chuckle erupted from his lips, sounding like it
belonged in the movies. Hollywood-boy walked around me and behind
the upright stone angel. He bent down behind it and pulled a long,
white string. My eyes widened and for a split second I thought
about running.
What did he plan on doing?
Strangling me?

Then it dawned
on me, the white string belonged to my ear buds. A sure sign when
the iPod followed along, like a fish on a line. The wind caught
behind me and blew escaped ponytail hair into my face. Irritated, I
brushed it away from my eyes.

He paused
before turning back around. “It smells…” he inhaled “…like
liquorice.”

I sniffed. “It
smells like dead people. Well, like damp grass.” The lawn looked to
have been cut a couple of days ago. Clumps of old grass lay under
the cement bench, emitting a rotten smell like old cheese.

He
straightened and flashed a smile, his teeth bright against the dark
of night. “You’re not from around here, are you?” He held out my
iPod and dropped it onto my outstretched hand.

“
Got here yesterday.” I stuffed the iPod in my pocket.
“Thanks. I’m Rouge.”

An eyebrow
disappeared behind his hair. “Michael.” He grinned and held out his
hand which I shook lightly.

Pleasantly cool. They’d feel good on my cheeks which are
freakin’ burning right now.
That thought
made them flame even more.

“
The iPod didn’t manage to pull your ears off?”

“
You caught that?” Now I wanted to crawl into one of the
graves.

“
I rounded the bend…” he pointed in the opposite direction
from where I’d come, “…when I noticed you trying to decapitate this
poor angel here.” He patted the figure.

I sensed a
smile in his voice.

He cleared his
throat and took a step back.

“
What’re you doing in the cemetery?” I blurted, unable to hide
my curiosity.

“
Taking a break.” He grinned like he’d made a joke. “Are you
going to continue your run?” He shifted like he was surprised he
had asked the question. He cleared his throat. “Otherwise I can
walk with you to the main road.”

“
I think it’s safer if I walk.” We started towards the main
road. “Do you live around here?” I grimaced at the needy sound in
my voice.

“
Not too far.”

“
My place is that way.” I pointed to the left.

“
I’m that way.” He nodded in the other direction.

We continued
in silence while I wracked my brain trying to come up with
something witty to say.

“
Well, maybe I’ll see you around.” I stared at my
runners.
Brilliant, Rouge.
Brilliant
.

“
Welcome to Port Coquitlam, Rouge.” He started off without a
glance back.

I stood admiring his…
could jeans
really fit that perfect on a rear end
?
I forced my eyes away. “He’s a
guy, not a god.” My gaze flicked back when a low, bouncy noise
sounded.
Did he just laugh?

His pace never
slowed nor did he turn around.

I started
slowly jogging home. My heart stuttered and flopped against my
chest. I didn’t know if it came from the near fright or the
closeness of the very hot boy.

Michael was on my mind that night and again when I woke the
next morning.
Where did he live? Would he
be at school?
He seemed so cool and
together. Usually I avoided guys in general, and if one did catch
my eye, dark-hair, brown eyes and brooding were the
prerequisite.

The next evening, I jogged to the cemetery, grinning when I
passed the angel, and gave her a wink. Then I headed north, the way
Michael had gone when he left last night.
What were the chances I’d actually find his street, let alone
his house?
I stopped mid-street and turned
to walk home—stalker wasn’t one of my personality
traits.

Friday morning
I couldn’t stand it anymore. I had to get out of Jim and Sally’s
house to escape and clear my thoughts. They’d been bickering non
stop about fixing the house, Sally’s job, Jim’s lack of a job and
anything else which seemed to pop into their heads.

Through the
grey clouds, the air hung heavy with a cool breeze hinting at an
end-of-summer storm. The sun kept trying to poke its way through
the dark.

As I headed
out the front door, I grabbed a baseball cap in case it rained and
walked towards the high school. Figuring out where a few of my
classes were would save wandering the halls next week.

The limestone
near the front entrance of the high school had 1922 imprinted on
it... The buildings were created with copper red brick throughout
and had large windows on both floors. The school might be small,
but its structure was unique. An architectural plaque, showing the
school’s layout, hung plastered into the brick. In the center lay a
courtyard, like that of an old castle.

The very posh
building and grounds reminded me of the kind of boarding schools in
movies or books. It made me nervous. I hadn’t fit into the big high
school back in Niagara Falls. What were the chances I’d fit in
here, a small school? I kicked a pebble on the sidewalk. It was
only one year, so it didn’t really matter what happened. I just
needed to keep up my grades to score some sort of scholarship.
Thank goodness school came easy – science, math, even English –
just don’t put me in choir or art, and I’d be fine.

Running up the
wide steps, I made my way inside the building. The school secretary
was busy printing off papers and stuffing them into envelopes. She
glanced up as the office door creaked. She wore a frilly dress that
matched her horn-rimmed glasses. She might have been here when the
school first opened. She smiled and walked towards the front
counter.

“
You must be Rouge Riding. Welcome to Port Q High. I’m Ms.
Graid.”

“
It’s Rouge, like row with a ‘g’ sound at the end. Spelled
R-O-U-G-E; like the way the French spells red.” One day, I’d shake
the crap out of the person who named me
.
I smiled. “My last name’s actually
Rid-ding. Just spelled like your driving in a car.” Someone had a
good laugh writing my birth certificate. “I thought I should come
by before school started to make sure all my transcripts came
through.”

“
Just printed off your schedule.” She chirped like a bird.
Those glasses gave her owl eyes and didn’t flatter her round face.
“You don’t have any free time this semester, but from the looks of
your grades, you won’t have a problem.”

“
Thanks.” I took the papers she held out and glanced over the
schedule.

Ms. Graid
handed me a map of the school, with my classes numbered and
highlighted. This woman had too much time on her hands. She’d
organized and color coordinated my class schedule with additional
highlighting and smiley faces. I made a mental note to memorize the
map before I got caught holding it when school started.

“
Thanks again.” I smiled. I was sure she meant
well.

“
Be sure and check in any time. I’m always here to help.” She
hummed some ancient, classical-sounding tune as she returned to
stuffing envelopes.

I walked out
of the office and decided to follow her little map around the
school while it was empty. It didn’t take long to find my way
around; the setup of the small building was very basic. I loved the
outdoor courtyard in the center. Every surrounding classroom had a
view of it.

Stuffing the map in my backpack, I headed down a flight of
stairs to make my way to the front entrance. As I passed the front
office, a pretty, petite girl walked out. I didn’t mean to but I
couldn’t help staring. She reminded me of someone. I couldn’t place
who. She had gorgeous blonde hair, long and in a million braids.
Her eye color made me think of Niagara Falls. They were bright on
her bronzed face.
This girl…definitely one
of the popular ones.

“
You new?” Her gaze roamed me up and down.

I nodded. Her
voice had a tone of confidence mine would never have.

She linked her
arm through mine and steered me towards the exit. “I drove here.
’Bout time someone new showed up.” Her leg kicked out and she
tapped the handicap button by the front doors, letting the door
open automatically. “I’m Grace and we need something fun for
Saturday.”

“
Fun? Saturday?” I tried scratching my head. However, being
tugged at an almost sprinting speed, I only managed to tug my
fingers through my curly hair. I kind of liked her free spirit and
crazy pushiness. Who wouldn’t be curious if this girl was nuts or
actually fun?

“
I forgot. You don’t know anything yet.” A cascade of laughter
erupted from her. “Sorry. The senior class has a party the weekend
before school starts. You’ll come, right?”