Never Cry Werewolf by Heather Davis Read Free Book Online Page A

his voice. A lonely pain that made my heart squinch up a little. The guy was obviously using drugs to cover up that pain. I felt for him.
    Mr. Winters seemed unfazed by Austin’s story. “I’ll guard this contraband, whatever it is, until we can get in touch with him,” he said, taking Austin’s pack and swinging it over his arms the wrong way so it rested on his belly like he was pregnant.
    Austin’s eyes blazed with so much anger, I thought he was going to take a swing at the old guy.
    Through gritted teeth he said, “I need it. You don’t understand.”
    “It’s all going to be fine,” Mr. Winters said, putting an arm around Austin’s shoulders. “You don’t need those chemicals to feel good about yourself. We’ll work on it at camp. We’ll take care of you, son.
    Let’s go, campers.”
    I sighed as I fell into step behind Mr. Winters and the boys. So, Austin was just another celebrity’
    s kid hooked on drugs. I felt kinda sorry for him. I mean, I’d seen all the Behind the Music s about the sad lives of bands and their families. It was lonely out there on the road. But wait—normal people got lonely, too. That didn’t mean you had to cover that pain with drugs.
    I trudged ahead, trying to put his problem out of my mind. I had enough troubles of my own at the moment. But as we hiked through the woods by the glow of the wimpy flashlight, my thoughts kept going back to Austin. He didn’t seem like a druggie. He was more together than the kids at school I knew used. He even seemed kinda smart. So how did he get into that crap? There had to be something I could do to help him. I mean, after the lame guys I’d helped with their small problems, here was a guy who obviously needed help in the worst way.
    Wait! Get a grip , my brain scolded, you’re in deep doo-doo yourself! Right. The point was to help myself. I had to remember that. Follow the rules, do my time, stay far away from Red Canyon .
    I decided to focus on the trail ahead, which worked until Austin glanced back at me as we crested a hill. His eyes glimmered in a sliver of moonlight. And my skin prickled with goose bumps. Me. Him.
    The moon. I was toast.
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FOUR
    T he sight of Camp Crescent brought camp life flooding back into my brain. The cabin cliques, the smell of apple crisp, the deformed weaving projects from arts and crafts. That feeling that no matter how much fresh air you breathed, you could never fill yourself up enough. I’d loved summer camp when I was a little kid and my parents would send me up to Camp Winnemuk or to sailing camp on Lake Michigan.
    But there was one major difference at Camp Crescent. Barbed-wire fencing. From the van window, I could see it snaking around the perimeter of the property, separating Camp Crescent from the edge of the forbidden forest.
    Charles noticed it, too. “That’s jail-grade,” he said in an awestruck voice.
    Austin didn’t turn from gazing out the window. He’d been silent since we’d hiked out of the woods. Even during the long wait for the camp van to show up, he hadn’t said a word. Maybe he’d been trying to figure out how to get his drugs back.
    I chewed my lip, replaying the whole looking-back-over-his-shoulder thing. I couldn’t stop thinking about the way his eyes had reflected the light on the trail. Silvery, almost bluish, otherworldly. It was just my crappy luck the boy with the coolest eyes I’d ever seen had to be at my brat camp. And had to get me off to such a lame start. I mean, Mr. Winters had a GPS and a cell phone! He would have been fine without me helping out, but Austin had made me run into the woods. Totally lame.
    For my own good, I focused on pushing Austin, his beautiful eyes, and his problem out of my mind. It wasn’t exactly easy to do with him in the seat across from me and the faint scent of his cologne and his leather jacket in the air.
    At last, the van rolled to