“When a werewolf creeps up behind you at night, he steps so silently you can’t hear a thing. You don’t know the werewolf is there until you feel his hot, sour breath on the back of your neck.”

I leaned over and blew a big blast of hot air onto the back of Tyler Brown’s neck. The kid’s eyes bulged out and he made a sick, choking sound.

I love baby-sitting for Tyler. He scares so easily.

“The werewolf’s breath freezes you so you can’t move,” I said in a whisper. “You can’t run away. You can’t kick your legs or move your arms. That makes it easy for the werewolf to rip your skin off.”

I sent another hot blast of werewolf breath onto Tyler’s neck. I could see him shiver. He made a soft whimpering noise.

“Stop it, Freddy. You’re really scaring him!” my friend Cara Simonetti scolded me. She flashed me a stern scowl from the chair across the room.

Tyler and I were on the couch. I sat real close to him so I could whisper and scare him good.

“Freddy—he’s only six,” Cara reminded me. “Look at him. He’s shaking all over.”

“He loves it,” I told her. I turned back to Tyler. “When you are out late at night, and you feel the hot werewolf breath on the back of your neck—don’t turn around,” I whispered. “Don’t turn around. Don’t let him know that you see him—because that’s when he’ll attack!”

I shouted the word attack. And then I leaped on Tyler and began tickling him with both hands as hard as I could.

He let out a shout. He was crying and laughing at the same time.

I tickled him until he couldn’t breathe. Then I stopped. I’m a very good baby-sitter. I always know when to stop tickling.

Cara climbed to her feet. She grabbed me by the shoulders and tugged me away from Tyler. “He’s only six, Freddy!” she repeated.

I grabbed Cara, wrestled her to the floor, and started tickling her. “The werewolf attacks again!” I shouted. I tossed back my head in an evil laugh.

Wrestling with Cara is always a big mistake. She punched me in the stomach, so hard I saw stars. Really. Red and yellow stars. I rolled away, gasping for air.

Did you ever have the breath knocked out of you? It’s not a good feeling. You really think you’ll never breathe again.

Making me see stars is Cara’s hobby. She does it all the time. She can do it with one punch.

Cara is tough.

That’s why she’s my best friend. We’re both tough. When the going gets tough, we never crumble!

Ask anyone. Freddy Martinez and Cara Simonetti. Two tough kids.

A lot of people think we’re brother and sister. I guess it’s because we look a little alike. We’re both pretty big for twelve. She’s an inch taller, but I’m catching up. We both have wavy black hair, dark eyes, and round faces.

We’ve been friends ever since I beat her up in fourth grade. She tells everyone that she beat me up in fourth grade.

No way.

Want to know how tough we are? We like it when our teacher squeaks the chalk against the chalkboard!

That’s tough.

Anyway, Tyler lives across the street from me. Whenever I baby-sit for him, I call Cara, and she usually comes along. Tyler likes Cara better than me. She always calms him down after I tell him stories to scare him to death.

“It’s a full moon tonight, Tyler,” I said, leaning close to him on the green leather couch in his den.

“Did you look out the window? Did you see the full moon?”

Tyler shook his head. He scratched one side of his short, blond hair.

His blue eyes were wide. He was waiting for the rest of the werewolf story.

I leaned closer and lowered my voice. “When a werewolf steps out under the full moon, hair starts to grow on his face,” I told him. “His teeth grow longer and longer, and pointier. They don’t stop until they reach under his chin. Fur covers his body like a wolf. And claws grow out from his fingers.”

I raked my fingernails down the front of Tyler’s T-shirt. He gasped.

“You’re really scaring him,” Cara warned. “He isn’t going to sleep at all tonight.”

I ignored her. “And then the werewolf starts to walk,” I whispered, leaning over Tyler. “The werewolf walks through the forest, searching for a victim. Searching… hungry… walking… walking…”

I heard the footsteps in the living room. Heavy footsteps thudding over the rug.

At first I thought I was imagining them.

But Tyler heard them, too.

“Walking… walking…” I whispered.

Tyler’s mouth dropped open.

The heavy footsteps thudded closer.

Cara turned in her chair to the doorway.

Tyler swallowed hard.

We all heard them now.

The heavy, thudding footsteps.

“A real one!” I shrieked. “It’s a real werewolf!”

All three of us screamed.