And She Made the Shape of My Heart With Her Hands

The day when I had told Kennedy Brock most of my problems, I felt like someone had been lifting a hundred pounds of a two hundred pound boulder off me. He made me feel better somewhat, but there was still weight being left on me.

I shivered a little, the sudden water hugging my feet and the sand, then rushing back to the Atlantic Ocean. It’s not that the water was cold or anything, it’s just that I wasn’t expecting it so suddenly.

“Get in the water,” Kennedy stated. He was standing next to me, looking out at the ocean, as was I.

“No.”

“Get in the water, Cara,” he repeated.

“No, not yet,” I said.

“Fine.” Kennedy oddly walked away without giving me one look.

Before I had the chance to even turn around, I felt someone haul me up, their arms laced under mine. My feet and legs were being held up, too.

I gripped whatever I could, which happened to be Kidnapper #1’s wrists. I looked down and saw Pat, also known as Kidnapper #2, holding my legs. I twisted to turn and get a look at John.

I knew it.

“Come on now, Cara,” John coaxed. Pat and John carried me like that step by step, getting deeper in the very shallow water.

“Pat, John, no. No!” I heard all the other guys on the beach laughing at us.

Pat smiled from ear to ear mischievously. I would have bet every penny I had that John’s expression was similar.

“No! No! Put me down now, guys!”

“No way,” Pat played along.

I sighed and looked down my body at Pat. “You’ve turned to the dark side, Pat. You’re bad.” He playfully winked at me. It made my heart flutter and my body tremble a little with chills.

“Ready, Pat?”

“Yep. Ready, John?”

“For sure. Ready, Cara?”

“No!”

“Yeah? Well alright,” John teased. “One,” he and Pat swung my body to one side, “two,” my body swayed to the other side, “th-”

“I can’t get my cast wet!” I blurted out at the top of my lungs. They laughed pretty hard. So did everyone else.

John and Pat started carrying me back up to the sand that way, still chuckling.

“We just wanted to see your reaction,” Pat explained.

“Yeah, which was great,” claimed John.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” I scoffed. Pat let go of my legs as my feet were planted on the warm and grainy sand. I let go of John when I thought I was safe and somewhat stable.

Ugh. Good grief. Boys were just a tad retarded sometimes.

***

I had just finished doing my hair the way it was like during that game of hide and seek, and I was just about done my makeup. I used my hands to straiten out my black v-neck shirt with a peace sign in a shape of a heart. I got that from Camille as a gift. They looked great with white skinny jeans, for the symbol on the shirt was white as well. I finished my look with simple black flats.

I sighed and looked at myself in the mirror, leaning on the counter with my hands. I just simply stared at myself for a few moments before the thoughts, questions, and ideas came rushing into my head.

Does John really like me? Am I hurting Pat by leading him on? Do I really like both of them? Does Kennedy know everything that’s happening? Am I stupid for not just going out with Pat? Am I just going simply insane?

I ran a hand through my hair carefully, still looking at myself. Even though I had been gazing at the image of myself in the steamed up mirror, I hadn’t seen anything but images of Pat and John going through my head. I wasn’t processing anything else. I couldn’t see anything that was really going on, I couldn’t hear anything that was being said or done at the moment. I was just out of it at the minute.

I really like Pat Kirch.

Pat was warm, sweet, innocent, adorable, playful, smart, honest… The list could go on and on.

I like John O’Callaghan.

He was sexy, suave, funny, cool, intelligent, talented… This list could also go on for a while.

I shook my head back and forth quickly with my eyes closed, at the same time as walking out of the small hotel bathroom and into the bedroom.

With my eyes still shut in thought, I kept shaking my head no.

“No, no.” I took a deep breath. “No. John O’Callaghan does not like me,” I stated confidently.

“He doesn’t?” My eyes shot open with shock, surprise, dismay, and anything that was beyond embarrassment, such as horrified or mortified. “Hm. I, myself, thought differently.”

I, including every limb and muscle in my body, was too frozen and paralyzed with fear to even cringe. Somehow I managed to turn myself around to meet his face.

“John,” I said breathlessly.

He smiled slyly. “The one and only.” He paused, pursed his lips, and then added, “Well, my father’s name is that, too, and so is my grandfather and so on, but you get the point.”

I blinked, not believing that this nightmarish situation was even happening. To my extreme disappointment, I wasn’t dreaming. Everything I was experiencing at the moment was really happening.

“How long have you been lying there?” I whispered.

John sat up a little, pushing himself into a sitting position. “Well long enough to hear you state something completely false,” he affirmed, smirking a bit.

I closed my eyes and then opened them, wishing that all this would just somehow evaporate away right now. Of course it didn’t.

“John, I-I-”

John hushed me as he got up from the bed, walking towards me casually. He stopped when he was no more than a foot from me. “Cara, I like you.”

I turned my gaze to the floor next to me, refusing to look him in the eye. I felt numb.

He sighed deeply. “Cara,” he tugged my chin up with his fingers, forcing me to look at him. “I like you,” he repeated.

“I heard you the first time,” I barely whispered.

The left corner of his mouth twitched up, like he was about to say something. I could clearly hear his steady breathing falter for a second.

“If you’re waiting for me to say something, you’ll probably be here for a while.”

John didn’t say anything. “If you don’t like me, just say it,” he told me in a low voice.

“I-I… I don’t know who I like,” I said almost inaudibly.

John blinked a couple times, starring down at me speechlessly while I looked to the ground. “Come on. I was sent up here to come get you for dinner.” He started stalking to the door.

I soon followed out with him, feeling guilty for treating this the way I did.

But what else could I have done?