Caitlyn is cleaning up after the final campfire, and there's a tiny scrap of paper in the dirt next to one of the logs. She nearly tosses into the trashbag, but she notices there are words scribbled on the other side. She flicks it over with her thumb, and the corner of her lips jerk upwards as she recognises Nate's chicken scratch. Her eyes flick across the hastily written words, before folding it back up and sliding it in her back pocket.
It doesn't cross her mind again until she walks in the cafeteria the next morning to see Nate poking gloomily at his oatmeal. She quickly collects some food and goes over to him.
"Morning sunshine," she beams, sliding into the chair opposite him. "I see you're back to your usual surly demeanour."
"Ha ha, very funny," he scowls at her. "I'm not surly. I just… I don't get why people always expect to be something I'm clearly not."
"So Dana dumped you?" she shrugs offhandedly.
"How did you know?" he gasps. She replies with a pointed look, and he rubs his temples in frustration. "Apparently something just didn't click. All that sneaking around, putting my heart on the line, and she just decided it wasn't what she wanted. There was a spark but there was no fire."
Caitlyn rolls her eyes and bites into her toast. "Nate, she's sixteen years old, she doesn't know what she wants. Nothing at sixteen lasts forever."
"You're sixteen too," he retorts.
"Exactly," she stares at him blankly, "I don't know what I want either. Are you telling me you've got it all figured out?"
"No," he pouts, taking an extra ferocious stab at his breakfast. "So why do I feel like I should? Why does this feel like a big deal?"
"You want to know why?" she leans forward, beckoning him closer. "It's because we're young. Everyone makes a big deal about the future, like it's coming at you oh so fast and you'd better hurry up and make some important decisions real quick before you get dragged underwater and drown. And there's so much pressure on getting the opposite sex to like you that it's almost suffocating. Like you're only worth something if you're attractive. It surrounds you all the time, you know? In school, in movies, in every single damn Seventeen magazine they throw in your face."
"I don't read Seventeen," his face lightens and he glances up at her in bewilderment. "But I hear it holds all the answers."
"Absolutely not!" Caitlyn exclaims, banging her fist down on the table. "Girls have it much harder than guys, you don't even know. Our magazines are specifically designed to subconsciously chip away at our self esteem. It's so full of advertisements because after its sufficiently detailed observations on how we are completely inadequate teenage girls, they provide the beacon of holy light in the products they hawk on those glossy pages!"
"I'm not following," Nate deadpans. "You're saying that all that promotion of self-confidence is actually a lie to sell you stuff?"
"Oh, it's no lie," Caitlyn rips a chunk out of her apple with her teeth. "They want us to be confidant, but in the way that they tell us to be, and the only way that we're going to achieve that pinnacle of social acceptance is if we follow their instructions exactly and buy everything they say we need. Only we don't need it, we only want it because that's the perception forced on us, that unless we have all these material possessions we'll never be popular and we'll never have a boyfriend. Seventeen magazine is a steaming pile of bullshit."
"Wow," he gulps, averting his gaze when he realizes he's been staring at her, slightly agape. "You are very, um, passionate about this stuff."
"Don't even get me started on religion and politics," she rips the lid off her Snapple bottle with more force than is really necessary.
"I'll keep that in mind," he chuckles, and a comfortable silence settles over them.
Micthie and Shane come through the swinging doors, with her hair a little mussed and his lips reflecting the same colour as her lip gloss. They both raise their hands in greeting, but then Shane whispers something in Mitchie's ear and she giggles and they head into the kitchen hand in hand.
"Oh hey, before I forget, I found this at the campfire last night, I thought you might want it back," Caitlyn pushes the lyrics to 'Introducing Me' across the table with her index finger.
Nate's throat tightens and he grabs at it in a panic. "Oh, no... Did you read any of this?"
"Yeah, it sounds cute," she laughs, and it strikes him that it sounds like someone popping a balloon full of glitter. "You should play it for me before we leave."
"Thanks, but no thanks," he tears it up, piece by piece. "It was for Dana. I wanted to share things that nobody knows about me with her."
"What?" Caitlyn laughs again, louder this time. "Nate, everyone knows you only like cheese on pizza, and you use the word dude so much it's like your own language. And remember that one time you spent one excruciatingly long hour lecturing me on all your 'cool guitars'? Frankly, the only thing on that list that surprised me was your pathetic attempt at growing facial hair."
Nate can only stare at her, at a complete loss for words. She just gets up, chugs the rest of her Snapple and winks at him.
"You're not as complicated as you think you are, pal," she pinches his cheek before giving it a light smack, then she picks up her tray and saunters out of the cafeteria.
She's packing up the last of her stuff that she's retrieved from around camp (how did her phone charger end up in the canoe shed?) when Ella bounds up to her, bright eyes gleaming.
"Nate wants to know if you can meet him at the high ropes!" she gushes, twirling a strand of her long, dark hair around her finger.
"When?" Caitlyn lifts her hair off the sweaty neck and ties it into a pony tail.
"I don't know!" Ella giggles. "But I think he's up there now."
After casting a glance over the formidable piles of junk that were still clustered around the cabin, Caitlyn makes the snap decision and heads towards the newly-installed high ropes course.
"Nate?" she calls out when she reaches her destination. "Nate, are you here?"
"Caitlyn!" a voice descends suddenly from behind her, so she turns around and jumps at the sight Nate suspended mid-air right in front of her.
"What are you doing?" she torn between bemusement and laughter.
"So I realised that you got to know about all that stuff in my song, so I think I should get some fun Caitlyn facts in return, don't you?" Before she can react, he's slung a harness around her waist and tightened the straps.
She laughs and backs away. "No way. I think you already know everything you need to. I'm not really one to hold back."
"C'mon," he comically propels himself towards her by kicking his legs backwards and forwards. "I only know that you're from Ohio, you love dancing and making music and you hate Seventeen magazine with a blazing passion of a thousand fiery suns."
"And that I hate you talking about guitars," she grins, taking him by the hands to steady him. "And I hate parsley. And Fox News. And regular chapstick. And chihuahuas. And hipsters."
"That's a lot of hate you've got built up in there," he remarks with a cocked eyebrow.
"My charming bricks of cynicism keep me grounded," she mirrors his facial expression. "What's the point of having your head in the clouds when you're afraid of heights?"
"You're scared of heights?" something unrecognisable sparks behind his eyes.
"What of it?" she tries takes a hesitant step back, but without her realising he's clipped her into the ropes and all of a sudden she's being hoisted into the air at an alarming speed.
"Nate!" she cries. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh, god, please get me down!"
"The first step to conquering your fear is facing them, Caitlyn!" he smirks, but he doesn't pull her any higher.
"Nate, get me down right now or the pain I am going to inflict on you will increase tenfold!" her heart is pounding in anger and fright, and she's trying very hard not to cry. "I'm serious!"
But instead of her getting lower, he's only coming up higher. "Would it help if you had some company?"
"What do you think?" she screeches, trying to swing a punch at him. "No, it would not help! What would help is for me to be back on solid ground so I can kill you!"
"Caitlyn, are you crying?" he's not sure whether to be concerned or amused by this out of character display.
"So what if I am? Jesus, Nate, you're such a freakin' malcontent, you know that?" she shrieks.
"What's that supposed to mean?" he frowns at her, crossing his arms across his chest indignantly.
"What the hell do you mean, what's that supposed to mean? It means exactly what it means! It means you're a miserable dickhead who is never happy until he has completely pissed off everyone who surrounds him!"
"Wow, Caitlyn, tell me how you really feel," he murmurs, biting his lip and ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach.
"You have an awful superiority complex and you don't know how to relax!" Now that she had started, she didn't know if she could stop. "And when was the last time you actually did something nice for someone who wasn't some bimbo you had a crush on? You don't care about anybody but yourself!"
"Shut up, okay!" he shudders, suddenly furious. What right did she have to say these things? "You don't know what you're talking about!
"The truth's a hard thing to hear, isn't it?" she snaps, her face burning bright red.
"You want truth? How's this for truth? You're a pretentious know-it-all who pretends to be open-minded but really you think everyone who disagrees with your opinions is just an idiot! Your music is catchy, but it isn't original! You pretend like you don't care what people think, when you clearly do. And you're not even that good a dancer!"
"You take that back!" she screams, launching all of her body weight at him and finally getting a firm grip on his harness. She pulls his face so close to hers she can feel his hot, angry breath on her cheeks, but she doesn't back down.
"You take back that I don't care about anyone but myself," he hisses. "I care about my brothers and I care about the people that make them happy and I care about my friends because they make me happy."
"You care about your dog too," she whispers, not meeting his eyes. "You have him as the background on your phone."
"You're actually an amazing dancer. And people who disagree with you really are idiots," he presses his lips against her ear so she can hear every word.
"That would make you idiot number one," she glances up and their eyes lock, liquid chocolate versus hazel, but there's no traces of ice in them.
"I'm sorry I pulled you up here. It was meant to be a joke," he starts to lower them back down to land.
"Well, I didn't find it very funny," the panic has left her chest and now she just feels drained.
Caitlyn gets down before him, and with lightening reflexes she fights her way out of the harness and thankfully falls to the ground. Nate, however, is having some trouble. It seems his belay rope has gotten jammed and he remains suspended six feet above her. Watching the alarm that floods his face as he realises he's stuck, she can't help but smile.
"Oh delicious irony, how sweet you taste," she snorts.
"Caitlyn, seriously, help me out," he struggles with the rope but only ends up tangling himself up more. With a final yank, something snaps and he's completely flipped over, staring at her from upside down.
She bursts into hysterics and the way her spirit bubbles around he can't help but join in. The blood is flowing to his head and he's getting dizzy, but he knows she's not going to do a damn thing unless he apologizes properly.
"I'm really glad I know you, Caitlyn. You're actually wonderful," he cuts through her giggles with the only words he can think up in his pounding brain.
She raises her eyebrows broodingly, and she takes his face in both of her hands. "I'm glad you know me, too. Now we're both on the same page."
"Huh?" he's having trouble processing this while losing feeling in his feet.
She takes another step forward. "You would never have to write a song for me to know you. Now I don't have to write a song for you, no matter how unoriginally catchy it might be."
"Well, if you know me so well, then you would know what I want to do most right now," he bites his lip, cheeks getting pinker by the second.
"I know, I know, get down from the high ropes," her mouth twitches in glee.
"No, this," he tilts his head forward and catches her lips in a kiss. Caitlyn starts in surprise, but immediately melts into the moment, letting it seep into her every pore and she would love to stay like this forever if she didn't know that gravity would eventually kill Nate. She breaks away and kisses his chin, combing her fingers through his curly hair.
"This is so Spiderman," she mutters, shaking her head.
He pulls back from her face with a look of incredulous delight in his eyes, and she laughs, with that glitter-balloon popping laugh of hers.
"That's right, you're not the only one who likes superheroes."
...&...
No one knows you like I do,
they don't see you like I do, baby
but they'll try to, oh,
if only they knew.
...&...
So CR2 was the biggest letdown of all time.
Who the hell is this Dana? Bitch GTFO of my Naitlyn!