And She Made the Shape of My Heart With Her Hands

Dinner was a pretty normal event for everyone else. Everybody acted like usual, minus John and I. All the guys talked and chatted throughout dinner, again, excluding John and myself. In fact, I even made sure to avoid eye contact with him, which was hard because I know he looked in my direction a lot.

My stomach felt a little sick and I wasn’t hungry. Regardless of going to an Italian restaurant, (which was my favorite food), I still barely ate anything besides some Diet Pepsi and a breadstick.

Kennedy leaned down towards me a little. “What’s wrong?”

My eyes flashed to John for a split second before replying, “Nothing.”

He sighed. “I wasn’t born yesterday, so tell me.”

I leaned on my elbow and mumbled, “Later, Kennedy.” Kennedy gave a nod of his head in response as he twirled his silver fork around in pasta.

If I could trust him with what I told him a day or so ago, then I was pretty sure I could rely on him with all my issues and problems at the moment.

“Garrett, I’m going back to the van. I’m not feeling so great,” I told him quietly.

He took a sip of his soda and furrowed his brow. “What’s wrong with you?”

I shrugged a little and was about to respond with an excuse, when Kennedy slightly blurted out, “Cramps.” He and I earned a few questioning glances from the other chitchatting guys.

I rolled my eyes vaguely. “My arm hurts a little,” I fibbed.

“Fine, but don’t go off with any strangers, especially male ones. Oh yeah, and don’t let anyone touch you and don’t touch anyone,” he warned me. What the hell did he think I was? A tramp or a little kid?

“Uh, I’ll try to keep my hands to myself, Garrett,” I said sarcastically as I started walking to the parking lot. I could feel the pairs of eyes watching me as I left them.

***

‘Camille, what do you do if you like two different boys and they like you back?’

‘You pick the hottest one, of course.’

I sighed gloomily and rolled my eyes at her response. ‘No, for real, Camille.’

‘Well… Pick the one you could really see yourself with for a long time. Pick the one who makes you feel good.’

That still didn’t help me but I decided not to push the matter any farther. ‘Alright, thanks. Bye-bye <3.’

‘Later, sweetie. <3’

I was just putting my phone down when the van door urgently slid open. I jumped in my seat a little but relief washed through me when I realized it was only Kennedy.

“What are you doing here?”

Kennedy sat in the seat in front of me and twisted his body so we were face to face. He halfheartedly smiled. “You said you’d tell me later, so here I am.”

“You had like three quarters of pasta left. How are you done already?”

“I ate fast,” he stated bluntly, his eyes blinked a couple times.

“But now you might get a stomachache or heartburn or something! Kennedy, you shouldn’t have-”

“Cara,” he interrupted, “stop avoiding the subject and tell me what is the matter.”

I looked down at the floor. “John recently told me that he liked me,” I murmured.

Kennedy sighed. “I was wondering when he’d tell you,” he mumbled to himself.

My head shot up. “You knew?”

“Well, not for sure, but I had my theories.” He paused as I gave him a look that clearly urged him to go on. “Well there was the fact that when we were making fun of you with the whole Paul thing, John walked away. Normally, he would’ve joined in. That’s also when I noticed that Pat was jealous, too.” He sighed. “And then the final thing that confirmed everything was when he basically sang to you from up on stage.”

I butted in, “Wait. How could you possibly-”

“I’m one of the guitarists and I’m back up vocals, Cara. Therefore, I’m towards the front of the stage.” He paused. “I see everything,” he concluded. I could feel the blush coming up to my cheeks. Thank God we were in the dark van at night.

“What do I do?” I whispered.

Kennedy shrugged and sighed. “Simple. You either pick John and then have to deal with that drama, or you pick Pat and then tackle those same issues, or you could simply go with nobody.”

I sighed and then stated sheepishly, “Well I’m not too fond with the third option.” I groaned and placed my head in my lap. “I wish I was just a lesbian!”

“Heh. Me too.” I glared up at him. “I meant you as a lesbian, not me.” He chuckled and then rambled, “I-I mean-”

I chuckled. “Don’t hurt yourself, Kennedy.”

There was silence for a few moments before he mentioned, “I personally know who I think you should pick from the two.”

My head shot up. “Who?”

He shook his head. “I’m not going to say.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to add pressure or dictate to you who I think you should choose,” he answered matter-of-factly.

I sighed in defeat. “Kennedy, you’re too smart for your own good sometimes.”

“Touché.”