Kathryn Holmes Quotes & Sayings

Jonah's hair sprays water each time he flips around, in search of another fish. Droplets shimmer on his skin. He's really cute. And Hallelujah can't help but think about last night. About him liking her. He flashes her a smile, and something inside her swoons. — Kathryn Holmes

Open the bag, open the bag, open the bag!" he says, bounding through the thigh-deep water. She does. He dumps the second fish inside, and she zips it closed.
"I didn't know you could do that!" Hallelujah calls out as Jonah splashes away from her again.
"Neither did I!" He lunges sideways with a loud whoop, misses his footing, and sits down in the water. He's up again in a second, shaking himself off like a dog. "But I'm not going to stop until the fish get smart enough to figure out what I'm doing and - " Lunge. Splash. Up. Shake. " - run away!"
"Run?"
"Whatever! — Kathryn Holmes

She remembers the last perfect evening before everything happened, perfect even though she didn't know everything was about to change. Karaoke night. A bunch of kids from choir cheering each other on. When it was her turn, Hallelujah belted out "Total Eclipse of the Heart." She went for every melodramatic note, closing her eyes and beating her chest. She got the whole group to sing along.
She remembers Jonah taking the stage next. When he sang the opening lines to Garth Brooks's "Friends in Low Places," the room went nuts. He put on a cowboy drawl and sent the low notes reverberating through the wooden floorboards. She remembers him tipping an imaginary Stetson at her when he was done.
In a week, Hallelujah would get caught making out with Luke Willis. He would humiliate her and start spreading lies about her. She would become someone quiet and sad and resentful. But right then, performance-flushed and surrounded by friends, she couldn't stop smiling. — Kathryn Holmes

But is it that easy? Can she just decide not to be that person anymore - the one she hates? Can she really move on? — Kathryn Holmes

She used to think alone was the answer. Alone would stop the whispers and the taunts. Alone couldn't get her into any more trouble. Alone meant not getting hurt. Now, she'd give anything to see another human being. To hear someone call her name — Kathryn Holmes

Do you want to, um, sit? Up here?"
The open bit of mattress next to him. Jonah smiling, now looking a little shy. His shyness makes her shy. "Okay," she says.
Jonah scoots over, wincing as he moves his right leg. When he's settled, resting back against his pillows, Hallelujah takes hold of the bedrail and climbs up to sit next to him. Her legs are surprisingly shaky, and she's happy to stretch them out next to Jonah's. — Kathryn Holmes

Hallelujah can barely breathe through the pain of each step. Rachel is panting from the effort of holding Hallelujah up. Still, when they get closer to the clearing, Rachel manages to call out: "Jonah! Help!"
There's a rustling noise up ahead. Twigs snapping. And then Jonah appears. His face is in shadow, but his voice is worried: "What happened?"
"I turned my ankle," Hallelujah says. "I'm okay."
"She's not okay," Rachel gasps. "She can't put weight on it. Can you carry her?"
Jonah doesn't hesitate. He wraps one arm around Hallelujah's waist, and then he scoops up her legs with the other. In a single, fluid motion, she's off the ground. She holds on to his shoulders. For a second, she thinks about how strange this is - to be held like this, to be held by Jonah. — Kathryn Holmes

Jonah is something. Jonah's opinion matters. And she doesn't want him to hurt because of her.
She and Jonah will never be what they were. Too much has happened. But maybe they could become something else.
She decides to take the first step. "Jonah," she says.
He looks over at her. "I'm sorry," he says, voice low.
"Don't be. I forgive you," she tells him. It sounds so formal. I forgive you. But it helps to say it out loud.
"Thanks. I don't know if I deserve that. But thanks."
"You do. Of course you do." Hallelujah says it firmly. "And - I want to." I've missed you, she adds silently. She's not ready to say that part. Not yet. — Kathryn Holmes

She remembers talking to God a lot right after everything happened with Luke. She remembers crying and asking why, over and over. Asking for help, for strength, for understanding. Apologizing for what she did wrong. Talking through everything she could have, should have done differently. Begging for the torment to stop.
She remembers belief and trust slowly turning sour. Still, she kept talking to God out of habit. And because she didn't have anyone else to talk to. At night, in the dark sanctuary of her bedroom, alone, she could say the things she'd been keeping quiet. But she stopped expecting an answer. Stopped hoping for one.
After a while, God felt as distant, as uncaring, as everyone else.
And her prayers faded away. — Kathryn Holmes

I think you have to love something if you're gonna make sacrifices for it. — Kathryn Holmes

And you and me, we're . . . ?" He doesn't finish the question. He doesn't have to.
"Yeah," Hallelujah repeats. "You and me."
Jonah tilts his head so it meets hers on the pillow. They lie there, side by side, with him under the sheets and her on top of them, holding hands and touching foreheads. Jonah's eyes are closed. Just when she thinks he must have fallen asleep, he murmurs, "Stay."
"Okay."
Outside the window, clouds are rolling in over the mountains. A storm. But beyond the band of rain clouds, the sky is blue again. Bright, shining blue. The storm won't last long. And, Hallelujah realizes, sometimes you need the storm to really appreciate the sun and the blue sky.
Jonah is breathing evenly. She can feel each exhale on the side of her neck.
She smiles, and she stays. — Kathryn Holmes

Jonah peels off his wet shirt and spreads it out on the ground in the sun. For a second, all Hallelujah can see is his bare skin. She blushes and looks away, not turning back until she hears the zip of his jacket closing. Now he's looking at her. She doesn't know if he caught her staring. — Kathryn Holmes

Jonah shifts to lean back a little farther, moaning as he does. "Holy heck, my leg hurts," he says, still with that strained, forced lightness.
Again, Hallelujah mimics his tone. "'Holy heck'? That's cutting it close."
"I have a gash in my leg the size of the Mississippi. I can say whatever I want. — Kathryn Holmes

Steady there," he says. His brow is furrowed. His eyes are deep-set and sad. "You can ride with me. All you have to do is sit and hold on. Okay?"
Hallelujah nods. And then what he's saying actually sinks in. They'll be riding away from Jonah and Rachel. She can't do that. She can't. Her breath starts coming faster. "We have to go back," she says, her voice cracking. "I can't leave. I have to go get them. I promised." Breath in, out, in, out, in, out. "I promised!"
Charlie has her by both shoulders. "Hallelujah. Calm down. It's gonna be all right."
"We have to go back!" Hallelujah repeats, almost sobbing now. "Please! — Kathryn Holmes

Rachel's the first one to speak. "So - he told you."
"Told me what?"
"Come on, Hal. What's changed since yesterday?" Rachel sneaks one arm out of her jacket cocoon to give Hallelujah a soft punch in the shoulder. "I may not be at my best right now, but I'm not blind." She pauses. "Or deaf."
Hallelujah feels her face get hot. "Oh. What did you hear?"
"Bits and pieces. I was really out of it last night, after . . . whatever that was. After almost freezing to death." Rachel shudders. "I have to say, it was totally obvious from the get-go that Jonah liked you."
"It was?" Hallelujah is still surprised. She still doesn't quite believe it.
"Um, yeah. Or did you think he's out here for me?" Rachel says slowly, as if to a child, "You followed me. He followed you. — Kathryn Holmes

The way he's lit right now, it's like he's glowing. Radiating. And when he smiles in my direction, it's hard to see anything else. — Kathryn Holmes

Caring about something can make you do things you shouldn't. — Kathryn Holmes