Whatever it was, she felt confident that they could discuss it and then put it away. He was not married, he could not be gay, but there were other possibilities, too many. Possibilities haunted her as she moved through the remainder of that first week of school. Maybe Darien had a love child, she thought, on Wednesday between fifth and sixth class periods. Theories, some wild, some possible, floated through her brain like confetti in a ticker tape parade. When she asked him to tell her, over their next lunch period, Darien shook his head. “I will tell you, my Stella-star, but I don’t want to talk about it now.” More than a little piqued, she sighed. “So, when will you tell me?” His topaz eyes darkened almost to onyx as he looked across the table at her, face sad. “I will tell you next week, after the full moon.” “Why then?” She wondered just what the full moon could have to do with his secret. Bits of folklore she learned in her studies niggled but she could not focus to think about them now.
