Wild Hearts by Jessica Burkhart Page A

down. I laughed and twisted my hair into a knot, getting the dripping ends out of the water.
    My phone rang on the table and I leaned over and swiped it off the stand.
    â€œKate!” I said into the phone, greeting my older sister.
    â€œYou’re not lost in the wilderness, are you?” she asked. “If you are, I’m sorry to say I can’t help you.”
    I laughed. “I never expected
you
to save me from the woods. But isn’t LA like a concrete jungle?”
    â€œI guess,” she said. “I went to report on a star sighting at the Ivy and it was supposed to be an exclusive and all these other people from, like,
Entertainment Now
were there.”
    Disdain dripped from her voice when she said
Entertainment Now.
Competition among the networks was fierce. Last summer,she had visited us while she was on vacation and had yelled at me because I’d flicked on
EN
for five seconds. It wasn’t my fault that only
EN
had the Sean Houston exclusive, but Kate didn’t agree.
    â€œDid you get the scoop anyway?” I asked, lazily swirling my fingers in the water. Mom was still planting and it seemed like she got the hang of it now. She was no longer flopping dirt from one freshly dug hole into the next.
    A rush of voices flooded the background and that had to be the
Access
lot. Kate had told me stories of the dozens of people running around to meet the show’s daily deadline. It was a pressure-packed job.
    â€œYeah, I got it,” she said, sounding far away and suddenly distracted. “Listen, I’ve got to run, but tell Mom I got my vacation days changed. I can come visit you guys in July instead of waiting until Thanksgiving.”
    â€œGreat!” I said, excited, since I hadn’t seen her in months. “Miss you.”
    â€œMiss you and love you!” Kate said, hanging up.
    I plunked the phone back on the table and half stood in the hot tub. The cool spring air gave me goose bumps and I sank back down in the water. “Mom!” I yelled.
    She lifted her head and pulled off a dirty glove, shading her eyes. “What?”
    â€œKate’s coming home before the holidays!” I called down to her. “She said she could come in July.”
    â€œWonderful!” she said.
    Even though it was mid-March, Mom would be thrilled from now until then. She’d start getting a room ready for Kateand would be buzzing around the house talking about how she missed having Kate at home.
    After an hour of pruning in the warm water, I couldn’t sit still any longer. I headed for my bathroom and hopped inside the glass shower, bikini and all. After I’d showered, I towel-dried my hair and let it hang loose at my shoulders.
    Ever since my day with Logan, I’d sort of been keeping one ear open for a far-off sound of an ATV. I wasn’t expecting him to pull up in my driveway—that was a definite
no
that we had established when he had offered to take me home that afternoon. It had been four days ago when he had dropped me off just before my driveway, and I had walked the short distance home. I’d been greeted by my parents and they had asked how my day had gone. I picked out a couple of things that I’d done with Logan and made it sound as though I had gone exploring by myself.
    I pulled myself out of the memory and tugged a three-quarter-sleeve waffle knit shirt over my head and stepped into an airy peasant skirt. I dabbed on strawberry lip gloss and ran a bronzer over my cheekbones. My reflection wasn’t half bad. My shoulder-length hair hung in dark waves around my shoulders and the bronzer made my green eyes pop.
    Something swirled deep in my stomach. Again, it felt as though everyone had found their niche except me. Kate was on TV. Logan had horses. Mom had photography. Dad had work. This summer had to be different than before—I had to stop working for Dad in three-day sprints and start findingsomething that
I
was passionate