And She Made the Shape of My Heart With Her Hands

“Oh my God, were going to meet Boys Like Girls!” I squealed like a freaky fan girl.

Kennedy laughed. “I’m pretty sure if you act like that when you do meet them, it’ll be the first and last time you’ll ever talk to them.”

I frowned. “I can’t help it though.”

“It’s okay. Pat was the same way when we first met Good Charlotte,” he said.

“I was not!” Pat defended himself. “I’m not the girliest one in the band.” He paused. “Kennedy is.”

He gaped at Pat. “I am not!”

“You are! You’re such a pretty boy, always fixing your hair and making sure it looks perfect.” He took another look at him and then added, “And it does look good, trust me, I wish I looked like you, but I don’t.” He smiled and I laughed.

“Pat, you’re the girliest,” Kennedy remarked. “You’re a puss.”

“Aw! Don’t be mean! If it makes you feel any better, you guys can both be the girliest,” I suggested humorously with a proud smile.

They both looked at me. “No way,” they both said in unison.

I laughed. “Fine, fine.”

***

Finally, we were at the place The Maine, Metro Station, Good Charlotte, and Boys Like Girls were supposed to be playing. I was waiting backstage with the boys; they were about to play any moment now. I was nervous for them, honestly.

I sighed and turned around, only to have my jaw drop to the floor. It was Martin and Paul from Boys Like Girls!

Suddenly, I felt a hand around my waist, pulling me forward to the two. I looked up at John, who was smiling, and I closed my mouth. “John, no. Oh my gosh,” I muttered.

John chuckled as he pulled me along forward, getting closer and closer to Paul and Martin. “Come on now, Cara. Don’t be so shy!”

Before I could defend myself, John and I were standing right in front of them. They turned to look at us, well me mostly. They had already met The Maine before.

John pointed at me casually. “Garrett’s sister Cara,” he stated.

Both Martin and Paul nodded their heads, Martin speaking first while shaking my hand, “Hi. You a fan?”

“Uh, yeah,” I stuttered out while weakly shaking hands with the lead singer of Boys Like Girls.

“Nice,” he said, letting go of my small hand.

“Very nice,” Paul exclaimed, taking my hand, gently squeezing it. “I’m Paul.”

I let out a soft bashful laugh. “I sort of know.” I could already feel the pink tint of blush rising in my cheeks.

He laughed, noticing the colored heat crossing my face. “I just love it when girls blush,” he commented. Well, that makes one of us.

“Yeah. I don’t think they realize how cute it really is,” John replied.

Wait. Was he calling me cute? Or was he saying I was cute when I blushed? Or was it neither one?

“Guys, you can take the stage now,” Tim informed my brother’s band. John left my side, leaving me with Martin and Paul.

That was when Martin put a hand on my shoulder and said, “Well Cara, it was really nice meeting you and I’m sure we’ll see each other again very soon.” With that, Martin walked away and left me with Paul.

I looked sheepishly up at Paul, who was already staring at me. “So,” I started, trying to make a conversation, “When do you guys go on?”

Paul shrugged. “We’re one of the last ones.” I nodded. “So how old are you, Cara?”

“I’m seventeen,” I answered, flipping my bangs out of my eyes a little.

“Whoa,” Paul quickly got closer to my face. It was a little farther than a kissing distance. “Your eyes are really, really green. It’s like an electric green or something. They’re freaking awesome!” He yelled.

I laughed. “Thanks, I guess,” I backed up a little from his face.

He smiled. “So do you play any instruments?”

I shook my head. “No. Musical genius was always Garrett’s field of knowledge. I tried violin in third grade and got as far as playing Mary Had a Little Lamb. I quit before I could learn anything else.” I softly chuckled, and so did Paul. “Well, I want to get over there and watch my brother’s band play, so I guess I’ll talk to you later.”

I was about to walk away when Paul quickly grabbed a red napkin and a black sharpie, scribbling something on it in a rush. He looked up at me quickly and smiled, before capping the sharpie and handing me the napkin. “Now you can talk to me later,” Paul stated with a smile.

I smiled back before folding the napkin up in my pocket and walking away. “I text a lot!” Paul called out. I chuckled and nodded my head in acknowledgment.

***

“You guys were amazing!” It was after The Maine was finished, everyone was sweating and hot, I was greeting them backstage with a smile.

“You watched the whole thing?” Jared asked me, getting a water bottle. I nodded quickly.

“Are you sure? ‘Cause right before I walked out on stage, I saw you and Paul DiGiovanni getting cozy over there,” Garrett nodded toward where he and I were standing at before.

I furrowed my brow a little. “Yes, I watched your whole show. No, I was not ‘getting cozy’ with Paul,” I exclaimed, using air quotes.

“Oh, she’s getting defensive!” Now Kennedy was ragging on me. He came over and draped his arm over my shoulders. “It’s okay, Cara. We won’t make fun of you for hooking up with Paul.”

I shoved him away, only to earn lots of obnoxious howls from Kennedy, Garrett, Trevor, and even some from Jared. John walked away and Pat looked like he was out of place, and he knew it. He just looked plain uncomfortable.

I looked back at the pack of wild animals. “So was he a good kisser, Cara?” Garrett was crossing the line there.

I lost my cool at that moment. “Shut the hell up! All of you! Right now!” I paused when I had all their attention. “Now get yourselves under control and stop automatically thinking that I’m in love with him or something,” I hissed. All their mouths were sealed shut, even my brother’s. Pat’s eyes were on me the whole time.

I took one calming breath and simply walked away, only to hear Pat following me.

“Hey. I’m sorry that they’re acting like jerks,” Pat consoled me.

I had my pace down to a slow walk. “I’m fine, Pat. Really, it’s alright.”

He nodded his head, pushing some hair from his face. “They just had to jump right to conclusions. I mean, it’s not like you two were really flirting or anything. Just talking.”

I cringed a little. Well, the two of us weren’t flirting, but one of us did, and that someone was not me. “Actually, Pat…” He looked over at me with wide brown eyes; I looked away. “See, I wasn’t flirting with Paul or anything, I swear. But I did sort of feel like he was maybe coming onto me. Maybe it was my imagination or he’s just friendly or something, but he commented on my eyes, he got real close to my face, and he gave me this,” I whipped out the folded red napkin from my back pocket and held it up.

Pat wasted no time in taking it and reading it over and over again. “Paul DiGiovanni gave you his cell phone number?” I nodded and kept my gaze at the floor. Pat stayed quiet for a moment and then asked with curiosity lingering in his low voice, “Are you going to call or text him?”

“Honestly, I was just going to throw the napkin somewhere in my bag and forget about it unless Paul ever mentioned it again to me,” I stated in truth and confidence. I looked up at Pat and noticed his eyes were brighter, filled with some sort of emotion or idea of hope and happiness.

I wondered why that was.