Put Your Heart Where Your Mouth Is

John and I had been sitting in that fucking hotel room for forty-five minutes, and neither of us had spoken a single word. I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket, and began texting my thumbs off, begging for Wren to come in here and pull me to safety.

John was sitting at the make-shift kitchen counter, borrowing my laptop. He turned the old piece of junk on, and laughed. “Nice picture.” He swiveled it around, and I immediately starting laughing. The night before, when we had all stopped for dinner at some old throw-back diner, we were all too busy talking to notice that Pat had snapped a picture. Garrett's face was puckered up like a raisin; Jared's jaw was hanging open like he was singing; John and Kennedy looked like they were holding hands; and I was perched ontop of the booth beside Wren, with my cheeks blown up like a blowfish.

“So,” He said, and I could tell by his voice that he knew something he shouldn’t. “I was talking to Wren while you were in the shower--“

“And she said nothing interesting....right?” I said as I tried to hide the overwhelming anxiety that was washing over me. I squeezed my cell phone so tightly in my hands that it might have cracked in half.

“Are you going to tell him?” He wasn’t smirking like I expected him to. How was he not rubbing this in my face? “Alex, I mean.”

“She told you that?” I asked slowly, waiting for his teasing to kick in at any minute.

“Out of nowhere, too.” He nodded, biting his lip. “She’s kind of strange.”

“Kind of?” I laughed.

“She came in when I was getting dressed, went over to your suitcase, grabbed something of yours, and started telling me all these things. Apparently the gestation period of an elephant is twenty-two months.”

“I’m surprised Wren knew that.” I said, widening my eyes with genuine surprise.

He gave me a cheesy grin. “She didn’t. I’m showing off how much a genius I am.”

“For knowing about elephant pregnancies? Nicely done.” I laughed, crossing my arms lightly over my chest.

“Oh--before I forget, Zack Merrick called, and said we’d be meeting him and the rest of the guys in the hot tub room in like...twenty-seven minutes and thirteen seconds.” He said, glancing down at his watch.

“Approximately.” I corrected.

“Indeed. Now, I’ll let you get ready, and whatever it is that girls do. I’ll be next door with Pat and Garrett.” He waved, “Hasta luego.”

"Oh, and he speaks Spanish too?" I snickered, "Well, aren't you just the king of everything."

“I know, right? Home room Honors Spanish my senior year.” He bit his lip with a proud nod. “Major turn on, right?”

I gave him two extremely sarcastic thumbs up, and watched him close the door behind him. I slid lazily off my bed, and wandered over to the closet where we were keeping our suitcases. I pulled one of the many zippers, realizing that I’d just opened the smallest pocket, which contained absolutely nothing.

It took a few tries--useless pockets, broken zippers, and muttering curse words-- but I’d finally gotten my swimsuit, a tank top, and a pair of shorts. I threw everything on in a hurry, and after decided not to worry about putting on any make-up, I slipped into a pair of low tops.

I was out the door, and jogging up to the VIP section on the roof, still by myself, when I stopped with my eyebrows shooting into my hair line. “What the fuck?”

Alex and Jack were wearing neon banana hammocks with their names embroidered on the crotch. My eyes were watering; I'd never seen anything so nauseatingly bright.

“Oh, pffft, you like what you see.” Jack said, waving me off, and sliding into the hot tub. Everyone else inched slowly away from him. Alex pushed his hair out of his face, and did an unnecessary cannon ball into the water.

I heard an ear-piercing scream, almost sure it was Wren, and my frantic eyes searched for her face. She sounded in pain. Correction-- it was my brother.

“Don’t fucking touch me with that thing, Jack!” He shouted. I had to slap my hand over my mouth to keep from snorting out a laugh. Taken out of context, Kennedy's warning was questionable, but in context, it was so much worse. It was exactly what it sounded like.

“Sorry, Kennedy. Big J has a mind of his own.”

“Big?” Rian smirked, shaking his head critically. John was still as bemused as I was, but he saw me, and waved me over to the rest of them.