Never Cry Werewolf

by Heather Davis

  She made a grunting noise and heaved herself to the next holds. She gazed down at me, and I could see the fatigue and fear in her face. She still had about thirty feet to go.

  Charles shrugged. “I could tell you things about your new friend Austin that would make you freak. Ask him about Jillian Montrose.”

  “What? What the heck are you talking about?”

  “Apparently, you don’t read magazines,” Charles said with a shrug. “Jillian, Austin’s last little crush, had a total freak-out at his dad’s estate. Claimed someone tried to attack her. Afterward, the Bridgeses sealed up that estate tighter than Willy Wonka’s factory. No press have been allowed in for years. Not even Rolling Stone. There are all kinds of rumors about Austin’s family being completely psycho.”

  “People always spread rumors about celebrities. That’s what sells magazines, right?”

  “Jillian never told the whole story, but from what I heard she was never the same. Maybe Old Man Bridges bought her off, or maybe she was terrified that Austin would come after her and finish the job. Anyway, I’d hate to think of you being next.”

  I gritted my teeth, wanting Charles to shut up. “Just because some girl spread some rumors doesn’t mean the story’s true.”

  “I’m just sayin’, creepy is as creepy does. The Bridgeses aren’t your average rock star family and Austin is the oddest one of them all. Who knows what really happened to that girl or what he’s capable of.”

  “Why don’t you leave him alone? Oh, wait, I forgot—your dad earns his living by making stuff up. It would be too much to ask to let people have their privacy, right?”

  “Privacy is overrated,” he said. “In fact, maybe you want to tell me what happened out in the woods before we showed up? There’s probably a good story there.”

  “The only thing I’m gonna tell you is to shut up.”

  He laughed, which made me want to smack him, but then I heard a yelp. Ariel lost her foothold. The rope jerked in my hands and tightened in the belay device hooked to my harness.

  “Help!” She swung her feet trying to steady herself, and then scrabbled her toes against the rock, trying to find another foothold.

  “This is priceless,” Charles said, snickering.

  “Hold on!” I said, yanking the rope through my brake hand to try to steady her so she could get to the next foothold. “Okay. Climb on!”

  “I c-can’t!” On the verge of crying, Ariel swung in her harness.

  Everyone had stopped climbing to watch the spectacle of Ariel losing it. My stomach clenched with guilt. I hadn’t focused on helping her make the climb. I’d let myself be drawn in by stupid Charles.

  Even though it wasn’t that far down, and she had a rope holding her, Ariel was clearly terrified. “Let me down,” she said. “Ohmigod, let me down!”

  “Go ahead and start lowering her,” Cynthia Crumb said, a frown souring her face.

  “Hurry!” called out Ariel.

  Before I could even let out slack to start lowering Ariel, Austin swung across from his position on the rock and reached out. “I’ve got you,” he said, putting a hand on her arm. “Relax. I won’t let you drop.” He was holding on to the rock wall with his left hand as he used his legs and hips to scooch closer to Ariel. One more step and he was right next to her, guiding her left hand to the nearest grip. “Now reach out a little to the right with your foot. There you go.”

  Ariel’s feet found a place on the wall, and she let out a huge sigh.

  I did, too.

  Cynthia Crumb made a huffy noise behind me, like she couldn’t believe Austin had actually done something good. Meanwhile, Charles shook his head and readjusted Austin’s rope in the belay device.

  “Right, then. One step up,” Austin directed.

  Ariel gave him a scared look but then did as he said. He kept coaching her, and a few minutes later, she had climbed her way to the top, where Mr. Winters waited.

  The old guy pulled her onto the platform and patted her on the back. “Good job, camper.”

  Ariel, still pale, nodded robotically.

  Austin crested the wall and rushed over to Ariel. He wrapped her up in a hug. “That was brilliant,” he said.

  Something in me softened, seeing him holding her. I hadn’t figured him for a hugger. He seemed distant and British and like someone who’d be more used to offering handshakes, but there he was, still with his arms wrapped around my new friend after saving her on the wall.

  “Isn’t that adorable?” Charles made a gagging sound. “A billionaire’s daughter and a rock star’s son. It’s a little cliché, but—”

  “Dude, shut up.” I lowered the brim of my baseball cap and mentally tried to block him out. Above on the platform, Austin finally released Ariel, who was grinning. She waved down at me, and I waved back.

  Austin gave me a little nod but didn’t smile. Which was fine, because I was a bit confused at the moment. The drugs. The pain. Rumors spread by a freaked-out girl? And now this rescue mission on the wall? There was more to Austin Bridges than met the eye.

  SEVEN

  That night, sparks from Camp Crescent’s bonfire flew up toward the dark sky like shooting stars in reverse. Conversations buzzed around the circle of log benches as the cliques of the camp formed. A cluster of Goth kids, minus black eyeliner, sat gloomily inspecting each other’s empty piercing holes. A few of the chubbier campers debated the best s’more-making techniques. Some of the wilder boys were arm wrestling, their elbows anchored across the bench as they struggled.

  All around the circle, the smell of burning sugar rose up from the marshmallows toasting in the fire. Ariel pulled at a sticky golden puff on the end of her stick, roasting the outside of the marshmallow, pulling it off and eating it, then roasting the new outsides. Marshmallows are okay, but I was seriously jonesing for some good old-fashioned gummy worms, which I was pretty sure Cynthia Crumb had devoured along with my romance novel.

  I glanced over at Austin, sitting three logs away. His eyes reflected the gold colors of the bonfire, and the light of the flames flickered against his strong face. He was staring at me. I felt weird—not bad, not good, just weird. I squirmed on the log, trying to get comfortable.

  “Why is Austin staring? Do I have a zit or something?” asked Ariel, retreating beneath her bangs.

  “No, no. It’s not you. It’s me.”

  “It’s never me,” said Ariel with a sigh. She stuffed her hands into the kangaroo pocket of her navy hoodie. “Well, unless you count that guy I met at archery today. Price. Price Fenton. He’s from Georgia. I think he’s a little odd.”

  “All the guys here are a little odd,” I said.

  “Oh, great,” said Ariel as her marshmallow went up in flames. “Could you…oh, forget it.” She suddenly threw her roasting stick down and scooched closer to me on the log bench.

  “What’s the deal?”

  Ariel nodded across the campfire to where Charles was cruising for a seat. “He’s so not sitting here.”

  “He’s just another name-dropper,” I said. “Don’t give it another thought. My school’s crawling with kids like him.”

  “I keep forgetting you’re new, Shelby. It’s way worse here,” Ariel said. “People can be really cruel. Use stuff you say in group against you. Things like that.”

  We watched Charles take a seat on a log bench near the Goth kids.

  “There. Safe.” I picked up Ariel’s roasting stick and handed it to her.

  “Is this seat taken?” a short guy with a Southern accent asked Ariel.

  Even in the firelight, I could see her cheeks pink up.

  “Uh, no. Go ahead, Price,” she said, giving me a look.

  He plunked down and the two of them started talking. It was seriously cute. I could tell Ariel liked him because the blush in her cheeks never went away. She was totally absorbed in some story about Price’s cat. I felt like a third wheel.

  And then I saw Cynthia walk up with her guitar case. Great. What I really wanted, m
ore than anything, was some peace and quiet. Back home, I spent a lot of time alone. On most weeknights, Priscilla would be off working out or shopping with her friends, and Dad had a lot of late meetings. That meant I had the whole house to myself. A quiet house, a good book, and a bag of gummy worms were sometimes all the comfort I needed. I wasn’t used to the noise of living with other people or the incessant rounds of crappy camp tunes.

  I knew it wasn’t playing by the rules, but I felt like I had to be alone for a little while. I turned to Ariel. “Hey, if anyone asks, I went off to the bathroom. Do you mind covering for me?”

  Not only did Ariel not mind, she didn’t even look away from Price.

  “Kay, then. I’ll be back,” I whispered. I waited until a bunch of kids got up to get more marshmallows, and then I slipped away.

  I’ve never been afraid of the dark. Sometimes my most favorite thing to do is soak in my tub with all the lights out. No candles. No music. Just the plink-plink of water dripping from the faucet. So peaceful.

  Standing in the trees felt that way. I could watch the bonfire, barely hear the awful tunes coming from over there, and just be alone in the darkness. At least for a little while. During the second chorus of “YMCA,” which I’m pretty sure was not written to be played on the guitar, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I jumped half a foot and almost screamed.

  Austin.

  “Thanks a lot!” I said, swatting him on the arm for scaring me.

  “It’s a pleasure to see you as well,” he said.

  I zipped up my sweatshirt, suddenly aware of the chill in the evening air.

  Austin smiled. “The dark feels good, doesn’t it?”

  “You’re supposed to be over at the campfire.”

  “As are you,” he said with a little shrug.

  I turned away, resting my back against a tree trunk. I tried to send a message with my body language, something along the lines of “leave now,” but my stupid mouth kept on talking. “Thanks again for helping Ariel.”

  He smiled. “All she needed was encouragement.”

  “You were good up on that wall. How’d you get over to her so quickly?”

  “I’m rather agile,” he said with a hint of a smile. “Anyway,” he said, “thank you for defending my honor, as it were, with Charles. I saw him harassing you. I assume it was about me.”

  “Yep.” My brain flashed back to what Charles had said. I didn’t want to believe some stupid rumors, but a part of me wondered what had really happened to Jillian Montrose. I wanted to ask Austin about it, but I didn’t want him to think I was the kind of person who believed everything people said or what was printed in tabloid magazines.

  “I sensed you were a loyal person, Shelby. I appreciate your helping keep my family out of the spotlight.”

  “Of course. I wouldn’t tell that guy anything,” I said.

  “Thank you.”

  We stood there for a moment, neither of us saying anything. The smell of burning sugar permeated the air all around us.

  At last, Austin said, “Shelby, you’ve been terribly sweet, and I realize this may sound a bit forward, but I need your help.”

  I groaned. Here it was. The real reason Austin had found me in the dark. And the thing that sucked was that I already wanted to help him and I didn’t even know what it was he was asking for. I gave him a hard look. “What do you want from me?”

  “My serum. I have to have it. I can’t do it alone.”

  My mouth dropped open. “You want me to help you steal your drugs back? That’s great, really great.”

  “It’s not like that.” His eyes darkened. “It’s of vital importance I get that medicine. I have to have it before…well, let’s say I have to have it as soon as possible. The dose I took in the limo is wearing off. I can feel it. I’ll be sick at first, but after it works out of my system, it’ll be mayhem.”

  “You’re asking me to help you steal. That’s like a one-way ticket to this desert hell camp my stepmother picked out for me! I can’t go there. I mean, this place is bad enough.”

  “I know it’s a risk.” He took a step closer.

  Now we were almost chest to chest, and I felt my knees sort of sway. I could smell the clean soapy smell of a fresh shower on his skin and the lingering sugary smell of marshmallows—which on a guy has to be the most delicious smell ever. Was it wrong to want a drug-crazed hottie to kiss me?

  “It’s not in my nature to ask for help, Shelby. I’m used to relying on myself. It’s bloody difficult to be asking you for anything. I’m in dire straits.” He licked his bottom lip. “Please, would you—”

  “Wait,” I murmured, my gaze tracking his tongue. “I know this part. This is the part where the sprinklers come on,” I said.

  “Sorry? What was that?”

  Oops. I shook off the memory. “Uh…nothing. Look, there are better people to count on. Seriously. I’m, like, the least trustworthy person in the freaking universe—just ask my dad.”

  Austin frowned. “Do you always believe what other people say about you?”

  I frowned back at him. “Okay, well, even if you wanted to count on me, I can’t help you steal something. I can’t break the rules. Seriously.”

  “You never were a rule follower before now, were you?” He said, his eyes intense. “You’re here in the dark. You ran after me into the woods. You risked yourself to help me. No one ever did that for me. You’re probably the only person in this bloody place who cares if I live or die.”

  “Live or die?” I crossed my arms against my chest. “Okay, let’s cut to the chase. What are you into that you’d risk everything to get it back?”

  Austin’s smile faded. “I told you. It’s medicine. That’s the simple truth.”

  “If it’s medicine, the camp would know about it, Austin. You have to put that stuff on your health forms.”

  “Graham, the new road manager, filled it out! He doesn’t know the first thing about my family.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t get you. You want to count on me and yet won’t tell me the truth? You can’t have it both ways.”

  “If I tell you, I must have your word that you won’t tell another living soul.”

  “Okay, now you’re scaring me. You make it sound like freaking top secret or something.”

  Austin lips twitched, and his teeth did that bitey thing on his lower lip. “The truth is,” he said, “unfortunately, I have a disease.”

  “You have a disease?” It was impossible not to wrinkle up my nose, which was pretty judgmental of me. “Which one?”

  “I hesitate to tell you,” he said.

  “You expect me to go down in flames for you and you won’t tell me the truth?”

  Austin’s eyes shimmered gold in the low light as he scanned my face. He looked worried, tense, and that freaked me out.

  “Uh…well?” I said, my voice coming out all nervous.

  Austin glanced away, toward the campfire, and then, turning back to me, said, “Shelby, I’m a lycanthrope. What you’d call a werewolf. It runs in my family.”

  I swear my ears started ringing. “Holy crap. I thought you said you were a werewolf. What is wrong with my ears?”

  Austin wasn’t smiling. “I didn’t expect you’d believe me at first,” he said.

  “What?” I gaped at him. “Are you serious? Dude, you can’t be a werewolf. They’re made up, and they’re, like, dorky. I mean, except for that movie where there was this one wolf guy who was in love with a vampire. He was pretty cute for being a—”

  “Shelby,” he said, his mouth right up next to my ear. “I’m serious.” As he backed off, his eyes reflected the light in an eerie nonhuman way.

  I suddenly felt a bit wobbly on my feet. “You…uh…actually expect me to believe that creatures like that exist? That you’re one of them?”

  “Careful, you’re talking about my family.”

  I shook my head. “Why would you say that? What is wrong with you?” I took a step back from him. “Oh, I get it. Joke
’s on me, right? Yeah, pretty good one, Austin. How did I not see it before—fangs, fur, howling at the moon? That’s so hilarious.”

  “Shelby, this is no joke.”

  “Well, then, if you really think you’re a werewolf you are totally mental. Not to be mean, but I guess I know why you’re at brat camp.”

  His eyes darkened. “I am telling the truth. I’m not insane, and I’m not lying. You have to trust me.”

  Yeah. There it was. Trust me.

  That was what they always said—what the freshman class’s homecoming prince had said last year when he needed help picking out his tux and we got caught making out in the dressing room. Trust me? Yeah, right. I couldn’t afford to trust anyone. I couldn’t even earn anyone’s trust anymore.

  “I have to go,” I said, feeling like I’d been splashed with icy water.

  Austin grabbed my arm. “Believe me, Shelby. Why would I lie about this?” he said, steel in his voice.

  “You tell me.” I shrugged out of his grasp and walked back to the bonfire feeling annoyed. The hottest boy at camp was a complete liar. And he didn’t even respect me enough to come up with a good lie.

  I plunked down next to Ariel and Price and mumbled my way through a chorus of “She’ll Be Coming ’Round the Mountain.”

  Austin never came back to the bonfire. Maybe he was trying to get his so-called prescription or maybe he was off howling with his wolf pack. Right. Okay, so…whatever, Austin. I told myself I didn’t care. I wasn’t going to wonder.

  I grabbed the roasting stick from Ariel, and after eating a few gross but sweet marshmallows, I almost forgot about Austin and his bogus declaration. Almost.

  EIGHT

  The next morning the girls’ group session focused on just saying no to sex. Dr. Wanda, the psychologist, made everyone even more embarrassed than the day before. I mean, a grown woman asking if we’d hooked up before and then taking notes on it?

  I decided, as did most of the smarter girls, to play totally innocent. I mean, not even my friends knew everything I’d done with boys. I told them the basic stuff, but there were some things I kept to myself. Some things I regretted a little. And Dr. Wanda thought I’d spill all my secrets in front of strangers? That kind of torture made weed pulling seem enticing.