Rachel Jackson Quotes

“Someone else out there?” Luke squints in Hallelujah’s direction. He stands. He steps over his log bench and pushes past Rachel. Hallelujah can’t move, can’t breathe, and in four more steps, Luke has her by the arm. He’s marching her into the light.
When he sees who it is, he drops her arm quickly, looking disgusted. “Hallie. You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
Behind him, Brad’s on his feet. “Well, glory, Hallelujah!” he whoops. The girl next to him shushes him, and he lowers his voice. But he keeps talking, giving his words a preacher-at-a-revival ebb and flow. “I never thought, Hallelujah, I’d see the day, Hallelujah, where you’d have the guts to show up here, Hallelujah,praise Jesus—”
“Give it a rest,” Luke says.
“What, it’s only funny when you do it?”
“Nah, she’s always funny,” Luke says, looking back at Hallelujah, dismissing her with a roll of his eyes. “You just aren’t. You never do that joke right.” He walks back to his seat. He glances at Rachel. “Turns out, there’s a seat for you right here, next to me.” He pats the unclaimed bit of log to his right.”
― Kathryn Holmes

“After a few minutes, she speaks up again. “You’re next. Sing.”
Anxiety grips Hallelujah’s chest, squeezing. “I don’t sing,” she says.
“C’mon, it doesn’t matter if you’re bad. It’s not like this is a concert hall—”
“She’s not bad.” Jonah’s back. “She has a great voice.”
Rachel swings around to look from Jonah to Hallelujah. “Really? Now you have to—”
“No."
“But—”
“I don’t sing,” Hallelujah repeats, turning away.
Jonah joins them by the fire. The silence stretches out. Except it’s not really silent, not with the birds and wind and fire and how loud Hallelujah’s heart is beating. And then Jonah clears his throat. “You used to sing,” he says. “You were great.”
Hallelujah ignores the compliment. She looks into the fire. She feels the last of the day’s happiness fading away, already a memory.
“Why’d you quit?” Jonah asks. “Was it ’cause of Luke?”
Hallelujah inhales deeply. She feels the familiar spark of anger in her gut. “Yes,” she says. “It was because of Luke. And you. And everyone else. So thanks for that.” Jonah’s face drops. She can see that she’s hit a nerve. Well, he hurt her first. The way he took Luke’s side, shutting her out. The loss of his friendship, when she needed a friend most. The loss of their voices harmonizing, when she needed music most. How she just hurt him can’t begin to compare to all of that.”
― 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

“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

“So how did you think about him?” Rachel asks.
Hallelujah shrugs. “We were friends. Good friends. He knew—knows—a lot about me. I guess I know a lot about him. Stuff he likes and doesn’t like.”
Rachel looks skeptical. “And yet you never knew he liked you.”
“No! I mean—when Jonah and I were friends, I liked Luke. So maybe I missed some signs.”
“So you just . . . hung out? Platonically?”
“Yeah. I guess.” Hallelujah thinks about how to explain it. How to distill a friendship down to its most basic components. “We had choir together last year. We talked. For kind of the first time, even though we’d been in church and school together since fourth grade.”
“And, what, you found out you had so much in common?”
“Actually, no. But we started comparing music we liked, and a month into ninth grade, Jonah made me this mix of songs. Based on what we’d talked about. So then I made him a mix. And it grew from there. We’d go to each other’s houses, watch movies, listen to music, that kind of thing. Hanging out.”
“So tell me about Jonah. Something only you know.”
“Um. He’d probably deny it, but he got really into the Harry Potter books. Like, really into them. I loaned him my box set last spring. He got so mad at me for not warning him how Book Six ends.”
Rachel laughs. “He didn’t see the movies?”
“No. But I told him we couldn’t watch them until he’d finished the books.”
― Kathryn Holmes

“So what was Jonah like before high school? As a kid?”
“As a kid?” Hallelujah brings up the picture in her mind. “He was . . . sweet, I guess. Dorky. He’d wear these outfits his mom picked out—pleated khaki pants and polo shirts, with his hair slicked down with gel. And he would get really enthusiastic about things. Too enthusiastic. He went through this cowboy phase where he wore a cowboy hat and boots to school every day. Didn’t care what anyone thought.” The mental image makes her smile.
“And he and Luke were best friends?”
“Starting in middle school, yeah. They played soccer together.”
“Huh.” Rachel pauses. “So when did Jonah get cute?”
“He was still pretty short in middle school. And skinny. But he did start dressing better.”
“No more pleated khakis?”
“No more pleated khakis. And then the summer before ninth grade, he had this growth spurt. And he started to, uh, fill out. So I guess ninth grade is when I noticed . . .” Hallelujah fades off. “This is embarrassing.”
“No, it’s not. This is what girls talk about.” Rachel grins. “Besides. I wanted to see if you were paying as close attention to him as he was to you.”
“I didn’t realize I was. We were just friends.”
“You can be friends and still objectively notice someone’s cuteness.”
― Kathryn Holmes

“Rachel inches over until they’re huddling together. “Do you like him back? Now?”
The answer’s just as automatic as the apology. Still, it comes out as a whisper: “Yeah.” She takes a deep breath, gives voice to some of the noise in her head. “But what if I’m just feeling this because we’re out here and it’s scary and he feels safe? Or what if I’m just relieved to have my friend back, but I don’t like him like him? I don’t even know why he’d choose me. Then or now.”
Rachel drops her head down onto Hallelujah’s shoulder. She nuzzles into Hallelujah’s neck, like a cat. “Hal, despite the giant prickly wall you’ve put up around yourself with the neon Off Limits sign flashing at the gate—”
Hallelujah lets out a small laugh at this picture of herself.
“—you’re nice. Like I said when I told you about my parents, you listen. And you care. Which is more than I can say for about three-quarters of the high school population. And you’re pretty. And while I’ve never heard you sing, obviously Jonah likes that about you.”
― Kathryn Holmes