Sammy Keyes and the Wild Things Read Free Page B

all sorts of painful things about her life. And I am feeling totally sorry for her, but I also have a killer urge to get
out
of there.
    â€œI’m sorry,” she says, flinging tears off her cheeks and trying to smile. “You probably think I’m a total dysfunctional loser.”
    â€œNo, I—”
    â€œAnd now you probably don’t even want to go camping with me.”
    â€œWell, I haven’t even asked my—”
    â€œBut tough!” she says, laughing. “You’re coming ’cause I really, really want you to, and I know you’ll have a great time.” She took a deep breath. “Now let’s get you some boots and let’s get packing!”
    â€œI don’t know about boots,” I told her. “I think I’ll just stick with my high-tops.”
    She eyed my feet. “Those are really worn out, and they have no support, Sammy. You’ll feel rocks right through them. If you had some trail shoes or even cross-trainers, you’d be okay. But those?” She looked at me and pulled a face. “You’ll die out there in those.”
    So I tried on her backup boots, and they seemed to fit fine. And I could tell what she meant by support. The boots had a tank for a toe and some really serious tread.
    â€œThey feel good,” I said with a shrug.
    â€œGreat!”
    So we moved on to packing, which should have been easier than it was, but there was the whole complication of me not wanting to tell Cricket about my living situation. See, kids aren’t allowed to live in my grams’ apartment building, and if people find out I am, Grams and I’ll both get kicked out. So I had to practically ditch Cricket, then do what I always do—sneak up the fire escape and tiptoe down the hall and into the apartment.
    When I told Grams what was going on and that I’d be gone for four days, part of me was hoping she’d say, “No, Samantha. I don’t know these people, it’s too dangerous, you cannot go.”
    But another part of me was thinking that if I went camping with Cricket, I’d be able to tell Casey how cool it had been and how I’d seen deer drinking from the rivers and condors swooping through the air.
    And a secret, very
stupid
part of me was thinking that maybe I’d run into Casey while I was camping. I mean, what if he was hiking in the same area? It’d be a blast to hang out a little with him and Billy in the wilderness.
    So the smart part of me didn’t really want to go, and the dumb part of me did.
    Grams, though, settled the whole thing. “You’re going to see condors?” Her whole face lit up. “That’s wonderful!”
    I squinted at her. This was very un-Grams-like, and I don’t know . . . it made me kind of defensive. Normally she worries about
everything,
and now it was suddenly A-OK that I’d be hiking in the wilderness with strangers?
    Wasn’t she worried?
    Didn’t she
care
?
    She must have read my mind because she scoffed and said, “They’re
Girl
Scouts, Samantha. And this is a wonderful opportunity! Why, I would love to see a condor!”
    â€œSince when do you know anything about condors?”
    She patted her hair in an oh-so-superior fashion. “If you would watch the local news with me . . .”
    I scooped up my cat, Dorito, and flopped into a chair. “Oh, please, Grams.” But then I sat up. “They covered
condors
?”
    Grams nodded. “A few weeks ago Grayson Mann did a series for KSMY.”
    â€œA
series
?”
    â€œWell. Several two-minute segments spread out over the week. You know how they do.”
    I stroked Dorito and grunted.
    â€œHe went up to a condor watchtower in a helicopter. It’s probably the same place you’re going. I thought the whole topic was fascinating.”
    I gave her a wicked grin and said, “I’ll bet you did,” because anything Grayson Mann reports on she finds