Page 41 of Who Let The Wolves Out?

“First of all,” I say, “crying doesn’t make you anything but alive. Second, girls are awesome. I’ve seen a centaur girl carry a canoe uphillandbreak up a fight without breaking a sweat.”

Ferix peeks at me. “Really?”

“Really. And if someone calls you weak for feeling stuff, that’s just ‘cause they’re too scared to feel anything themselves.”

He looks at his scraped knee. “Hurts.”

“I bet. Want me to clean it up?”

He nods.

I pull out my little field first aid pouch—because yes, I’mthatguy now—and gently clean the cut. He hisses, but doesn’t cry. Just clenches his jaw and grips a stick like it’s a battle axe.

“You’re strong,” I say. “But not ‘cause you didn’t cry. You’re strong ‘cause you stayed. That’s the bravest thing you can do.”

He looks up at me with wide eyes. “Do you cry?”

“All the damn time,” I say with a wink. “Usually when they serve lentil stew.”

That gets a laugh. Just a small one.

But I’ll take it.

After I get him back to his cabin, I walk the long way back to mine.

And I can’t stop thinking about Ferix.

About Nolan.

About Rubi.

About how these kids—these messy, weird, magical little souls—have let me be part of their stories.

How they don’t see a liability.

They see a counselor.

And yeah, maybe I’m a little dangerous. Maybe I howl too loud or break stuff when I lose control.

But Ilovethis place.

I love these kids.

And if I have to fight to stay...

Then damn it, I will.

CHAPTER 15

ALICE

The archery tournament is supposed to be fun.

That’s what Julie tells me as she hands me the clipboard, her tone way too cheerful for the storm brewing in my chest.

“Make a show of it!” she calls. “Announce the cabins like it’s the Olympics!”

I nod and fake a grin. But my stomach’s already in knots, and I haven’t even seen him yet.

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