And She Made the Shape of My Heart With Her Hands

I heard footsteps walking down the hotel’s carpeted hallway outside my room. I quickly opened up the white door to spot Kennedy just passing my door. I flung my good arm out and snatch his limb, yanking Kennedy into my hotel room.

“Well someone’s feisty.”

“Kennedy,” I whined.

He chuckled a little. “Okay, okay. What is it?”

“Why’d you have to leave me and Pat alone together?”

His mouth twitched into a small amused smile. “Because I thought it was necessary.”

“Necessary? Necessary!”

“Uh… yeah. Necessary,” he answered warily, plopping himself down on my bed.

“But Kennedy!”

“What?”

“It only made me more confused!”

“How?”

I sighed and answered, “It made me like Pat even more.”

“Okay. Then tell him, date him, love him. End of story,” he stated like it was the absolute obvious.

“I don’t think I can do that…”

“Why? What’s stopping you?”

I gave him one knowing look and he immediately got it.

“Oh… Well what does it matter anyway?”

I sighed exasperatedly. “I can’t have John hating me, much like he probably does now!”

“He doesn’t hate you, Cara.”

I shook my head. “Well he would if I went out with Pat! And think of what that could do to the band. To their friendship! I’d ruin everything,” I explained as I sat down, putting my head into my lap, next to Kennedy.

He sighed and put his arm around my back, his fingers lightly hitting my side. “I say you go talk to him.”

“To who?”

“John, of course.”

“Now?”

Kennedy chuckled. “Yeah, now.”

“Um,” I said in a small voice, sounding quite childish. “I don’t want to.”

“Oh…” Without any warning or words, Kennedy put his arms tightly around my waist, pinning my arms down to their sides. He effortlessly lifted me up as I wiggled in protest.

“Kennedy, what the hell!”

“Shh. Don’t use such language, little girl.” Kennedy had me like that as he slightly stumbled down the hallway a couple white doors down from mine.

“Where are you taking me?” I demanded.

“Ah. Room 451,” he stated.

“451? But that’s-”

Kennedy swung the door opened and pushed, (or rather threw), me in as he called out, “Room service!”

“Kennedy, don’t-” I couldn’t get my sentence of plea out as the door was slammed in my face and the handle was held tightly by him from the outside. “Damn you,” I muttered through the door.

I heard someone clear their throat from somewhere behind me into the hotel room. I spun around quickly to see John lying on his bed, a laptop in his lap.

I sheepishly grinned the smallest smile ever as I took a couple bashful steps in. “Um… Hi?”

John O’Callaghan closed the small dark silver laptop and placed it somewhere next to him on the bed. “Hello,” he spoke smoothly as he slid his legs over the bed, now sitting up.

“Uh, I think I was shoved in here to talk to you…”

“Me? Why?”

I took a couple more steps closer, but not too close. “Um, about the other day…” He gave me a look to go on. I swallowed the swelling in my throat. “When you told me that you, uh, had feelings for me,” my voice squeaked towards the end of my sentence.

“Oh. Right. What is there to talk about, Cara? I like you, you don’t like me. That’s just the way it goes, I guess,” John stated so bluntly I could’ve been sick.

I flinched as I could feel my palms getting clammy and my heart fall slightly from his words and tone. “But I never said that I didn’t like you, John…”

He blinked at my now obvious statement. “Go on…”

I sighed as I took the couple extra steps towards the other bed parallel from John’s. I sat down abruptly on it, my eyes staring at the stiff red comforter and gold design crossing its every inch.

“Well, John… I do sort of like you in that way,” I admitted to him, still not meeting his burning gaze.

“But what?”

“But it’s just that… Well, you’re not the only one,” I said so quietly that I wasn’t even sure if he heard me.

He did. “Who?”

My eyes flashed up to his piercing ones. “Does it matter?” I asked him.

I heard him take a breath. “Yeah.”

I dropped my head a little as I confirmed shyly, “Pat…”

He let out a quiet and breathless laugh, looking away. It wasn’t a laugh like he actually thought something was funny or humorous. It was more like an expression showing that he couldn’t believe it.

He sighed. “Sounds likes you’re in some sort of pickle here then, huh?”

I looked up to his face, his expression completely unreadable. “Um, yeah…” I closed my eyes and bit slightly on my lip, anticipating on what to do next.

I finally exploded in a messy and rambling sort of apology. “I’m so sorry, John! I-I don’t deserve either one of you! I really don’t! A-And now I-I feel like I’m leading Pat on, and I-I k-” My words came to a sudden halt right there. I was not going to tell John that I kissed Pat Kirch. No way!

My breathing was a tad out of whack from my babbling outburst. My chest slightly heaved up and down as I kept an intent stare at the dark carpeted floor.

I heard John switch over to the bed I was sitting on. I felt his arms around me at once, consoling me, soothing me, stroking my dark hair.

We stayed like that for a while. Neither one of us dared to breath a word, just for the sake of starting something up again.

My face was pressed into his chest as his fingers constantly weaved through my hair. I was silently pleading God to not let any come out onto his fingers. Luckily enough, however, I think John was so gentle with his fingers that he barely damaged a strand of brown hair on my head.

“John…” I started softly as I started to slowly pull away from his hold on me. “I-I-”

“No,” he said gently to me, his face only around five inches from my own. “Just stop. Don’t say anything.”

I noticed that those five inches soon turned to three as he moved a little closer to me. I was paralyzed with too many emotions for me to comprehend in that exact second.

“John-”

“Shh, Cara. Don’t say anything,” he cooed to me, the air flowing from his pink lips tickling my ear a little.

I squirmed a little in my position, my face still remaining close to his as I looked up into his wondrous eyes, which were gazing down upon my face.

John’s face got closer and closer. Within nanoseconds, my eyes were fluttering slightly from his breath caressing them. His eyes flickered down to my lips as my mouth was faintly opened.

John came nearer to me, I was still too frozen to move a muscle, excluding blinking my eyes here and there.

Within almost an instant of a half second, my eyes flashed to his lips just as they came crashing down upon mine.

I didn’t move at all. Even when John O’Callaghan’s lips moved against mine in a firm and passionate kiss, I stayed still at all times. My lips did not move as his caressed mine almost effortlessly; the pressure would get heavier and then softer, then heavy once again.

John pulled away after for what seemed like minutes and minutes. I let a breath escape my lips as I watched his lips pull away from mine. I then looked up to his face, his eyes.

I opened my mouth more, as if I were going to say something next. I probably was going to stutter out something completely unintelligent but John stopped me just in time.

“No,” he simply stated softly.

I blinked a couple times, staring at him like I had just seen him for the first time in my life.

He smiled a little, amusement playing across his face and glinting in his pretty eyes.

I pulled away a little more and got up off the bed, walking in a daze to the door, swinging it opened.

“Um,” I called through the doorway. “This has been a…” I shook my head quickly back and forth, clearing my thoughts a little.

I could hear John chuckle from on the bed, now lying down once again. “Good talk, Cara.” He smirked a little.

“Uh, yeah. Good night, John.”

“Sweet dreams,” I heard John call as I closed the door softly behind me.

I walked very, very slowly down the hallway to my room. I opened the bright white door to see Kennedy going through my blue makeup bag.

His head shot up at the door clicking shut and my entrance. “How was your little talk with John?” He was observing a bottle of shimmer for your skin.

“Fine. He-”

“Wait. What is this?” He held the pixie like dust up.

“Shimmer. Anyway, I-”

“Shimmer? What the heck? That’s gay,” he muttered, throwing the small clear bottle back into the bag.

“John kissed me!”

Kennedy suddenly dropped the stick of lip-gloss he was holding and stared up at me with a blank expression. “I totally didn’t mean for that to happen. I-I’m so sorry, Cara!”

“It’s okay. And it wasn’t your fault. Calm down,” I told him.

“But he kissed you, Cara,” he stated in a small voice.

I sighed. “I know, Kennedy.”