By the Pale Moonlight (Book One of the Moonlight Series)

Book One of the Moonlight Series

by Jennifer Hendren

Copyright 2011 by Jennifer Hendren

Smashwords Edition

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author.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either
the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.
Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or
locales is entirely coincidental.

For Ruby and Tobe

Writing a novel is one of the wildest and
most arduous adventures I've ever set out to accomplish. Doing so
would've been impossible without the support and help of many, many
people.

Jenna Nichols. You've been my friend and
greatest cheerleader through the years. Thank you for talking me
off the writer ledge more times than I can count. Insanity surely
would've set in by now if you weren't around to help keep it real.
You've believed in me when I didn't believe in myself. Thank
you.

My lovely ladies at All The World's Our Page:
Claire Greer, Kristen Callihan, Rachel Walsh, and Susan J.
Montgomery. You are my partners in crime. Thank you for your
support and laughter. You're all completely crazy, but that's why I
love you.

Carrie Murgittroyd. What can I say, lady?
You're made of awesome.

Carol Spradling, Kait Nolan, Tricia Hill,
Rhonddalyn Reiner, Mahtab Narsimhan and the many, many others who
were forced to endure early drafts of this novel. It's been a long
road getting here, but I couldn't have done it without a single one
of you. Thank you for reading and telling me where I was going
wrong.

Amanda Sellet. You are by far the best thing
I took away from Denver. Thank you.

To my Gnomies--you know who you are, thank
you. (Special shout-out to Baby Jeebus!)

To all of the members of CompuServe Book and
Writers Community, thank you. I want to give big props to Diana
Gabaldon for writing the kickass books that brought to me that
community to begin with, Joanna Bourne for the kind yet
constructive criticism of my early work, and Beth Shope for not
being afraid to give me the what's what.

And finally, to my friends and family for
their understanding and support. Special mention to Erin Wilhelm,
who allowed me to use her beautiful daughter's name. Thank you.

It's been a long road getting here, but we've
made it!

Book One of the Moonlight Series

by Jennifer Hendren

The roar of the crowd echoed in my ears as
David's hand slid beneath my T-shirt. From the stands overhead,
students were chanting a raucous rendition of "We've got spirit,"
egging the opposing fans into a shouting match. The support beam at
my back vibrated with each movement from above, and random snatches
of conversation drifted down to us.

I listened as a gravel voiced man described
the finer points of blitzing.

This definitely wasn't the right place or
time.

I tore my mouth away from David's eager
lips.

"We should go back to the game," I
whispered.

"You promised, Mac." David's warm hands swept
across my skin and my resolve wavered when his teeth nipped at my
neck.

"I know, but..."

His tongue found the small hollow behind my
ear; a tingling sensation shot down to my toes, and my fingers
reflexively curled into the hair at the nape of his neck.

Applause spread through the crowd above us
and a moment later a voice over the loudspeakers announced our team
had pulled to within two touchdowns. A miracle without Ty.

Ty.

My eyes snapped open.

I pushed against David's chest and squirmed
out of his reach. Caught off guard, he staggered forward and
grabbed the post for balance.

"Let's go back," I said, pulling down my
T-shirt and smoothing it over my stomach. It was unseasonably warm
for October, and the heat had drenched both of our bodies in
perspiration. Our activities hadn't helped the cause.

"Besides, someone might drop their Coke on
us," I said, spying my discarded letterman's jacket on the ground.
I draped it on a crossbeam and focused hard on brushing the dirt
from its thick wool. My voice was unsteady. With deep, even
breaths, I willed my blood to cool. I couldn't—wouldn't—look at him
until I had myself back under control.

I never should've let him talk me into coming
down there.

The place was too disgusting for words. It
reeked with the stench of discarded food and an unidentifiable muck
I didn't want to analyze too closely. Besides, it hardly seemed
fair to make out with one boy when I was thinking of another.

As though reading my thoughts, David turned
away from me. The field lights leaked through the slats, falling
across his blond head.

"Do you want to do this?" he said, rounding
to face me.

"Of c-course I do," I said. "I—it's
just...Homecoming's soon. We said we would wait."

"No, Mac.
You
said." His blue eyes
seemed to cut right through me.

"I know—I'm sorry, but..."

I'm not ready.

"It's just..." I swallowed hard and gestured
at our surroundings. "This isn't the right place..."

As if to illustrate my words, a container of
nachos slipped through the boards a few feet away and landed with a
loud splat. Cheese and chips flew in all directions. A string of
swear words followed from above.

A large glop of cheese landed on David's pant
leg. He glanced up then back down at me and laughed.

"Point taken," he said.

The tension in my shoulders eased. Pulling
him by his hands, I backed us toward the opening in the stands.

He stopped us short. "Homecoming, Makenna. No
more excuses."

I didn't know how to respond, so I simply
nodded.

"Let's go find Vince and the others," I said.
"It sounds like our team needs a few more cheerleaders." I flashed
him a smile I didn't feel when he followed behind me.

We pushed through the student section. The
opposing team was preparing for their fourth down, and whoops of
excitement broke out when our team managed to sack their
quarterback to take back possession. All around us, people sprang
to their feet. I stood on tiptoe to scan the red and white jerseys
flooding onto the field. Number seventeen wasn't among them. I
rocked back on my heels and cursed under my breath.

Ty still wasn't there. Eight minutes until
the half, it didn't seem possible. He never missed a game.

Our row was packed, and Vince Reznick
shuffled back a level to make room for us.

"Guess I don't need to tell you how shitty
we're doing," Vince said before plopping down on the bench seat. He
handed a thermos to David, and I tuned out their conversation so I
could search the players again.

Our team was struggling without Ty, and the
crowd let out a collective groan when our back-up receiver fumbled
our first pass attempt.

"Jesus, that guy sucks." Vince sprang to his
feet and cupped the bill of his baseball cap. "Fucking O'Neill!
Where is he?"

At some point in the evening, the first fifth
of alcohol had appeared. Passed amongst my friends, the vodka
started to loosen tongues, their owners no longer caring what they
said or who they insulted. No one was safe—not the freshmen girls
sitting a few rows up, nor the parents crowding the section across
the aisle. Now even the players were fair targets—even those not at
the game.

"Seriously, where the hell is he?" Vince
paced on the bench seat. He looked like an overgrown two-year-old
pitching a fit. "The guy had to choose tonight to flake out?"

"Why doesn't he just shut up?" I mumbled
under my breath, pushing the proffered thermos of vodka away yet
again.

"Ty let us down, Mac. Face it." David
breathed on me. I fought the urge to turn away from the warm fumes.
Hopefully, these guys knew better than to light a match.

Another missed pass.

"Jesus! I'm gonna kill him!" Vince roared
from behind us.

David draped his arm over my shoulders; I
tensed.

"Relax," he whispered.

I squirmed away from him, his body heat near
suffocating at this point. "I need a Coke."

I pushed through the crammed row of students
and descended the stairs quickly. Once down, I pressed my back to
the stairwell and closed my eyes until the heaviness around me
began dissipating into the night air. The full moon hung in the
distance; I focused on it until my breathing steadied.

A whistle blew, and I forced my attention
back to the field. Our team had ended their drive by kicking a
field goal. People began surging toward the food stands,
half-hearted applause the best they could muster.

My best friend, Jenna Nichols, stood near the
fence line getting ready for the half-time show. Several players
ogled her legs beneath her short cheerleading skirt as they passed
by her on the way to the locker room. She'd certainly earned a
reputation with the team. Last time I'd bothered to count, she was
on her third boyfriend recruited straight from the starting
line-up.

I tapped her on the shoulder.

She swung around, her wide smile faltering
for a split second when she saw it was me. "Oh...hey, Mac."

"Hey, guess you thought I was Mike, huh?" The
varsity basketball player in question stood talking to friends a
few feet behind me. He was her current crush—heaven help him. She'd
probably been hoping her magnetism had drawn him out of the
stands.

The center's dark head went in the direction
of the snack bar, and Jenna's cool blue eyes watched him go. "Don't
worry. I'll get him if it's the last thing I do." She arched her
back, sticking her voluptuous chest out even farther. "No one can
resist these babies."

Her laughter was deep and throaty, and I had
to admit she was probably right. Next to her, I always felt like a
prepubescent boy. I struggled to keep from dropping my eyes for a
quick comparison.

"Listen, have you seen Ty?" I scanned the
throng of players again.

Jenna bent to pick up her pompoms, flashing
her rear end at the crowd. Several wolf whistles rang through the
air and she flushed with pleasure. She was such an
exhibitionist.

She straightened, sending her blond ponytail
swinging. "Nope. I heard some of the players talking, though. He's
in deep shit for missing the game."

I chewed on my lip. "This is so weird."

"That he missed the game or that he didn't
tell
you
?" Her words dripped with satisfaction. He'd been a
sore spot between us—forever. Somehow I was to blame for Ty being
the one boy in school she couldn't sink her claws into. It was
ridiculous.

"Have a good show," I said, refusing to get
drawn in. In my current mood, I might blurt out just how Ty felt
about her. Jenna wasn't likely to take the words "superficial slut"
well.

With a little finger wave, Jenna lined up
behind the other cheerleaders and flounced onto the field as a rap
song blared over the loudspeakers. Twitching their hips like pop
divas, they were a huge hit with the crowd. I watched them for just
a moment before heading toward the concession stands.

Standing away from the crowds so I could hear
above the steady buzz of voices, I called Ty on my cell.

"This is Ty, you know what to do."

"Ty, it's me, Mac." I pushed a finger into my
ear and walked down the fence line. "Where are you? I...call me,
okay?" I flipped my phone closed and stared across the football
field. Where the hell was he?

"Shit," I muttered, kicking a loose patch of
dirt at my feet.

By the time I stepped into line at the snack
bar, the crowds had thinned. The greasy smell of pizza and french
fries wafted out to me. Distracted by my thoughts of Ty, I failed
to see Kim Urwin and Melanie Hoffs ahead of me. They had their
heads together, whispering about Lord knows what; I tried to move
away before they saw me.

Too late.

Kim flashed me a smile over her shoulder. "Oh
hey, Makenna."

Crap.

I stepped back in line behind them.
"Hey."

"It's a pretty good game so far, don't you
think?" she said.