But I have to go. Thank you, Kylie Galen. Thank you for being my friend. Thank you for teaching me to think beyond myself. Thank you for everything.
C.C. HunterFriday morning, Kylie, Miranda, and Della, each carting suitcases, walked the trail to meet up with their parents. They walked slowly, like condemned prisoners moving to their executions. “I’m going to be peeing on a drug test stick every hour,” Della muttered. Miranda sighed. “I’m going to screw up at my competition and my mom is going to give me up for adoption.” “I’m going to a ghost hunt,” Kylie added. Both girls looked at her. “Don’t ask.
C.C. HunterYou will be what you are, and whatever it is, you will be fine. Everyone has to accept that and love you for who you are; it doesn’t really matter where your heritage comes from
C.C. HunterLife isn't supposed to be easy. Generally speaking, the harder something is the more rewarding the results will be.
C.C. HunterKylie bit down on her lip. Burnett took a step forward. He squared his shoulders, empathy filling his eyes. He took a deep, apparent heartfelt breath and looked at Kylie. She nodded at him as if giving him the lead. He looked back at Holiday and, in a deep voice, said, "Kylie has something to tell you." Kylie's mouth fell open and right then she knew it was official. Men sucked at verbal communication especially where anything emotional was concerned.
C.C. HunterAs Kylie buried her head on the camp leader's shoulder, she heard Burnett scold, "I thought I told you to wait at the camp." Kylie felt Holiday tense at the reprimand, and then she raised her head. "And I thought you knew I don't follow anyone's orders." "Does anyone listen to me around here?" Burnett asked, his frustration making his tone sound almost comical. "Obviously not," one of the FRU agents said, and chuckled.
C.C. Hunter