Sammy Keyes and the Wild Things by Wendelin Van Draanen

so.”
    â€œAnd maybe Gabby crushing on Quinn makes Bella feel like she’s getting abandoned for some guy again?”
    Cricket’s jaw dropped. “Wow. That’s
deep
.”
    â€œI don’t know about
that
. . . .”
    â€œNo, I’m serious. That makes perfect sense.”
    I sighed. “It does. And it makes it hard to stay mad at someone when you understand them, huh?”
    Cricket nodded, then shook her head at my feet. “I was never mad at you about hiking slow, but I sure do understand now why you were.”
    I pushed at the blister on my heel. It was huge. So was the one on my other foot. They were at least an inch and a half across and full of fluid. “This is ridiculous. I’m going to pop them.”
    â€œNo! You’re not supposed to. They’ll get infected.”
    â€œWell, I’m gonna.”
    â€œBut—”
    Just then we heard voices. Voices and footsteps and . . . laughing.
    â€œOh, no!” Cricket whispered, because the sounds were coming from the direction of Miner’s Camp. The direction of the Camo Creeps. “Come on! We’ve got to hide!”
    I looked at her and then at my feet, like, How am I supposed to go
anywhere
?
    â€œJust put your feet in your boots and come on!” she whispered frantically.
    So I shoved them in and shuffled after her, laces dragging, until we were safely behind some scrubby oaks.
    Safely, ha! For one thing, it was kind of a lame hiding place. We were only about twenty feet off the trail, so if the Camo Creeps had heard us crunching through dead oak leaves, they could have found us, no problem.
    But also, as the footsteps and talking and laughing got closer, I noticed that the little plants all around us had shiny green leaves. Shiny green leaves with a tinge of red.
    And while I was looking at the plants, I saw something move in the sandy dirt in front of me. At first it looked like the sand itself was moving, but then I realized that something sand-
colored
was moving toward me, a thin layer of sand half covering it.
    It was only about two inches long, but it had pincers.
    And a tail.
    A tail that was now curving up and aiming at
me
.
    â€œCricket!” I whispered, pointing at it.
    â€œThat’s a scorpion!” Cricket gasped, backing up like crazy.
    I scrambled back, too, and that’s when I noticed the little brown things crawling up my pants, landing on my shoulders, coming at me from everywhere!
    â€œTicks!” I cried, and that was it. I lost my mind. I charged back to the trail in my stupid loose boots, doing a total freak-out dance as I twisted out of my daypack, threw off my cap, then ripped off my shirt and slapped myself like crazy, crying, “Aaaaaahhhh! Aaaaaahhhh!”
    I didn’t care if I died at the hands of Camo Creeps!
    I didn’t care who saw me in my underwear!
    I just wanted those bugs off me!
    But when I freak-danced my way smack-dab into the Voices on the Trail, I changed my mind.
    And I changed it quick.

TEN                                                                                                                                                                  
    Thank God I had underwear on, because in running away from scorpions and ticks, I barreled right into two backpackers.
    Two backpackers with a six-foot
rattle
snake.
    All I really saw was the snake. “Aaaaaahhhh!” I cried again, doing a U-turn back toward Cricket.
    Cricket’s eyes popped wide when