Wild Hearts (23 page)

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Authors: Jessica Burkhart

BOOK: Wild Hearts
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Minding one's own business is the best life insurance.

I spent almost every day for a week having coffee dates with Amy, which really meant coffee with Logan
and
Amy, who was there both because she was our friend and because Logan and I didn't want to get caught out alone. But last night I'd texted Amy and had invited her over for a girls' day. I wanted to spend more time with her and I also wanted to thank her for covering so often for Logan and me.

Mom had given me my phone back this morning and I didn't use it once in front of her. I'd set it on vibrate and had texted Logan the second I made it to my room.

Got my phone back!!!!!!☺ I want to come have “coffee” but don't want to push it. Staying home today for girls' day w Amy. Miss u so much!

He texted me back within minutes.

So happy abt ur phone! Good idea to stay home at least for a couple days. I'm out in the field plowing with dad so my reception isn't great. I'll be out here until midnight at least. Miss u more!

The message made me smile. It felt like I had lost a limb when I'd been without
my
phone—the burner was great but not like mine. Tires crunched on gravel and I looked out to see
Amy's car pull up to our house and, a few seconds later, a car door slammed.

I trotted to the end of the hallway and went down the stairs to the first level. Mom and I reached the door at the same time. Mom bumped me with her hip, reaching for the door. “I've got it,” she said, grinning.

I bumped her back. “
I've
got it!” Giggling, I managed to unlock the door and open it.

“Amy,” I said. “Hurry up and get in here so you can document this! My own mother is trying to hip check me practically out of the room.” I darted away from Mom, running to the base of the staircase.

Amy came inside and broke out into laughter. I got a tiny running start and slid along the foyer floor in my socks and bumped right into Mom.

She grabbed me, wrapping her arms around my chest and drawing me close to her.

“Aw, my baby,” she said. “I just love you so much!” She started planting big, noisy kisses on the top of my head.

“Mom!” I tried to wriggle away. “Stop it!” Even as I fought her, the hug felt good. I hated it when my mom and I weren't a hundred percent okay.

I heard a
click
and Amy lowered her phone. “Annnd, sending this photo to my FaceSpace album,” she said.

“No, no!” I managed to slip out of Mom's arms and grab Amy's phone. I looked at the screen. A happy face and
Your photo has been uploaded!
stared back at me. Amy had caught me trying to wriggle away from Mom as she kissed my head.

I handed Amy's phone back to her, shaking my head. “Just you wait. I'll get a pic of you when you're least expecting it.”

Amy rolled her eyes and we all laughed.


Anyway,
” Mom said. “Hi, Amy.”

Amy grinned. “Hi, Ms. Carter. Are you sure you don't want me to leave you two alone?”

No, no
, I mouthed.

“You know that you're welcome here anytime, Amy,” Mom said. “And what have I told you a million times?”

“Umm,” Amy said. “Oh! Sorry,
Nicola.

“That's better,” Mom said. “Have fun, girls!”

Amy and I headed for my room. Once inside, I gently closed the door. Amy put her tote bag on my purple recliner.

“You came prepared,” I said, peering into her bag.

“Beyond prepared. Check this.”

Amy reached into her bag and started putting items on my bed.

“We have,” she said, “copies of every tabloid from Watson's, sunscreen, shades, an e-reader, hats, and a fully charged iPod with a ‘tanning on the balcony' playlist.”

I laughed. “This is awesome! I totally forgot—I made a giant pitcher of strawberry smoothies. Want some?”

Amy nodded. “Please!”

I left my room and went downstairs. I stopped just short of the kitchen once I heard Mom talking on the phone. I peeped around the corner.

“A thousand words by Monday,” Mom said, her head bent as she scribbled something on paper in front of her. “Thank
you.” I could hear the excitement in her voice. She hung up and I darted into the kitchen.

“Yay!” I said.

“Brie!” Mom spun around, a hand over her chest and wisps of brown hair flying. “You scared me!”

“That sounded exciting,” I said as I went to the fridge and opened the freezer.

Mom smiled. “I got another writing job. An editor called me because he had seen my photographs of the cave that we explored. He wants more shots of the falls and an article about visiting this area.”

“That's awesome, Mom. I'm so happy for you,” I said. “Okay, Amy's waiting upstairs.” I motioned with the pitcher of smoothies in hand.

“What are you girls up to?” Mom asked.

“Catching rays and reading gossip mags,” I said.

Mom smiled. “That's great, sweetie. Here, take these cherries up for a snack. And don't get sunburned, okay?”

“We have tons of sunscreen,” I promised.

I took the bowl, grabbed two red Solo cups, and a big spoon to stir the smoothies.

“How good does this look?” I asked Amy once I reached my room.

She took off the lid and looked inside. “It looks like it needs to be in my stomach.”

Laughing, I poured cups for both of us.

We moved our stuff outside. The balcony was big enough for both of us to spread out and have side tables at each end.

“This was an awesome idea,” Amy said. “Thanks for inviting me over.” She shimmied out of her shorts and pulled her tank top over her head.

“Aw,” I said. “That bikini is
so
cute!”

It was cherry red with tiny white polka dots.

“Thanks!” Amy said, smiling.

“Do I even want to know how much you paid for it, eBay queen?” I asked, smiling at her.

I adjusted my black string bikini and sat on my towel.

“It's Tara Salvadore,” Amy said. “Brand-new. Retails for over two hundred and fifty dollars.”

I let out a low whistle. “Fifty?”

Amy shook her head. “Fifteen. It would have been less, but I got in a bidding war with some idiot who drove up the price.”

“Fifteen bucks. Geez, Amy. Shouldn't you be saving for college?”

We laughed and I took a sip of my smoothie.

“Wait, wait! We have to do a toast,” Amy said. “Then sunscreen.”

“Oops, sorry,” I said. I held up my cup.

“To us for being friends and finding each other in this crazy thing called life.”

“Definitely yes,” I said.

“Finally, to having the best time of our lives! Cheers!”

Amy and I tapped our red cups together and I took a long drink. The temperature was perfect to be outside. It was in the mid-seventies and there were only a few wispy clouds.

“Would you?” I asked, holding up the bottle of Hawaiian Tropic sunscreen.

“Of course.” Amy scooted over and rubbed sunscreen all over my back and along the tops of my shoulders.

We switched and I did the same for her, making sure to really cover her super-fair skin. Then we each coated our arms, chest, stomach, and legs.

“Want me to put on the playlist I made?” she asked.

“Yes!” I said. “I have mini speakers that I can grab from my room.”

“Awesome,” Amy said. “I'll wait on the music. I brought it for two reasons. The first is because you and I needed an amazing playlist for today.”

“For sure,” I said, rubbing my hands together to soak up excess sunscreen.

“Second, it is perfect for drowning us out when we talk about boys and stuff.”

“That's super-smart about the music.” I went and retrieved my speaker/dock combo. Seconds later, one of the hottest songs of the summer came out of the speakers.

“This is
so
perfect,” I said, rolling onto my stomach.

“Agreed,” Amy said. She lay on her stomach and turned her head toward me. “So! I totally admit I'm living vicariously through you,” Amy said, biting into a cherry. “You know, since my love life is currently nonexistent.”

I laughed. “It's really not all that exciting. The sneaking around gets old
so
fast, and we can't even go over to each other's houses.”

“But you're with Logan,” she said, sighing dramatically. “You're with the guy that all the girls—and some of the guys—drool over.”

“I'm glad that I don't go to your school, then,'” I said, tossing another cherry at her. “Sounds like the mean girls would be after me.”

Amy nodded. “That's pretty accurate. B., you could totally be one of them, though.”

“I'm
mean
?!” I asked. “What are you talking about?”

“No! No, no!” Amy said, laughing a little. “I meant you could be one of the populars. You're pretty, smart, super-chic—stuff that makes an It Girl.”

“This is why I'm so glad that I homeschool,” I said. “I'm not really interested in being an It Girl. Well, an It Girl maybe, but not a mean one.”

Amy tucked a stray lock of black hair behind her ear. “See. You should come to LSH.”

“Nah. I'm not into all that drama. The girl wars and all the time stuck inside. I like the mobility and flexibility of homeschooling.”

“You are a wanderer,” Amy said, smiling.

I gasped. “I had no idea!”

She laughed. “It's fun to scour eBay all summer for back-to-school accessories. I've got a favorite seller who practically gives away tons of designer pieces. Mostly Jillian Benson. I
love
seeing the looks on the faces of this awful group of girls once they see my accessories. They must think that Watson's pays a
ton
because I'm able to have so many new pieces. I keep
staggering certain dresses or statement necklaces so it looks like I'm getting new stuff every week.”

“Shows how much they know, huh? You probably paid a dollar for a bracelet that they paid fifty for.”

“Totally. I watch them whisper, ‘How can
she
afford that necklace? Daddy said mine won't be here until October because they went on back order.'”

“Nice! You have the mean-girl voice totally down.”

Her mouth gaped as she looked at me. “Seriously?”

“Ye-es,” I confirmed. “Plus, since there is zero shopping in town, I bet everyone makes a big trip to the mall outside of town.”

Amy nodded. “Yep. They do every year.”

“I'd bet that two girls have shown up wearing the same shirt at least once.”

“Except for me!” Amy said, grinning. “I go through the ‘vintage' clothes online and buy stuff that has a hole in it or needs other minor TLC. That pretty much solidifies my chances of not having
one
shirt that anyone else does.”

I propped my chin on my hands. “You've seen my wardrobe. It's not exactly full of designer brands.”

“That's what makes a girl an individual,” Amy said. “Who wants to be a billboard for some company? I mean, if Traci Reefer,
the
Traci—designer extraordinaire of TRNY—came to me and said that she'd pay me to wear shirts with her brand splashed all over them, I so would! But I'm not doing free advertising like a bunch of the girls
and
guys at school for the companies that practically every city in America has.”

“So with you,” I said.

Amy took a sip of her strawberry smoothie.

My phone lit up and vibrated. “It's Logan,” I said. “One sec.”

“I'm going to get a few pop, okay?” Amy said.

“Sure. Thanks.”

She smiled and headed inside. We totally didn't need any soda. Amy was such a good friend.

“What's up?” I answered.

“Good and bad news,” he said.

I took a deep breath. “Tell me.”

“Bad news first. My dad got hurt. We're finishing up paperwork at the hospital, then going home.”

“What? How? Is he going to be okay?”

“He's fine, but he'll be laid up for a few weeks. He was moving hay rolls with the tractor and he loaded one onto the truck and the ties broke. He tried to stop it from rolling off the truck, but he couldn't and sprained his back.”

“Oh, thank God he wasn't seriously hurt,” I said. “Are you okay to drive him home?”

“Oh, yeah,” Logan said. “I already called Pam and she is going to take Holden so Dad can rest when we get home. I have to get back out in the field. The new guy—Trevor—took over for me until I returned.”

“Anything I can do?” At least Jack had help. But since he was out of commission, it piled more work on Logan.

“Actually, yes,” Logan said. “In a few days, I've got to move some of the cattle from our pastures up to the mountain range for the summer. I need another hand and so far, no one
else is free to help and we can't afford to hire another person. Interested?”

“Of course,” I said. “That sounds fun!”

Logan laughed. “It's fun for the first two hours. But we'll be moving twenty head of cattle up the mountain and it can be dangerous. We'd also have to spend the night.”

Spend the night. Could I? Amy stepped back onto the balcony cradling four sodas in her arms.

“I want to help,” I said firmly. “You'll protect me, right?” I said the last part in a teasing tone.

“Sure thing,” Logan said with a laugh. “What about the sleepover?”

“I think I can pull it off with Amy,” I said. “Thanks for the heads-up. It'll give me time to think of a good story to tell my parents.”

“If you're sure. I'll meet you at WyGas on Saturday morning and we'll leave from there.”

“What should I bring?”

“Layers of clothes,” he said. “It'll get cold at night. And be sure to bring gloves, a coat, and a hat. I'll take care of the rest.”

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