Thought I might try my hand at some Camp Rock fanfiction. Good movie :) Tis Smitchie all the way. Mitchie's POV.
Don't own Camp Rock – insert frowny face – or Taylor Swift's "Our Song." Or Celine Dion's "Taking Chances."
Camp Rock had been over for two months now, and Connect 3's tour was just about to start up again, leaving Shane and I with only three days to spend together before he left. For Europe. Their first international tour. But we ignored that for the time being, and tried our hardest to enjoy what time we had left.
But that was more difficult than I anticipated. I found myself close to tears several times, and no matter how hard Shane tried to cheer me up, saying he'd call everyday and that he loved me, it really didn't help. The only person who understood was Caitlyn – she was going through the same thing with Nate. At least I would have one person to be miserable with. Today was the last day. And we were driving to the studio where the rest of Connect 3 were meeting before they left for the airport. I wanted to burst out crying. But I didn't. I couldn't ruin the rest of the time we had together.
Shaking my head out of my depressing thoughts I pulled my air out of the ponytail it had been and bobbed my head to the mindless chatter of the song on the radio. "Mitch – what are you doing?" Shane asked, mirth in his eyes. "You're acting silly."
I merely grinned and grasped his hand, "Will you put the top down?" I loved his car. Absolutely loved it. Mustang convertible. But for some reason that completely fathomed me, he rarely put the top down. "Please?"
He sighed dramatically, "Sure." I smiled widely and giggled as the wind blew my hair all over my face. "And now you look silly."
"And yet, you love me anyways." He shook his head and threw his right arm over my shoulders, keeping the left hand on the wheel, eyes trained ahead.
Trying to keep a serious face he said, "Yeah. Yeah I do. Why, I don't know – you're so... quirky... But I do." I tried to take offence to that, but he was right. I leaned towards the quirky side of life. Sue me.
The grin slowly left my face as the radio changed from the cookie – cutter type pop song (Thank God Connect 3 changed their style. How I listened to them singing that way so many times I have no clue. There was no point to the songs. At all.) to Celine Dion's "Taking Chances." Caitlyn and Nate's song. Or so they've told me. Shane and I don't have a song. Well, yeah, we sang "This is Me" together for Final Jam and on the new CD, and of course his "Gotta Find You" still made me melt... Those are our songs. But we don't have a song. And I want one.
My frown must have been noticeable as I slowly turned down the radio because Shane looked over to me, concern lacing his voice, "Baby is somethin' wrong?"
I shook my head slightly and said, "Nothin, I was just thinkin' that we don't have a song."
His brow furrowed cutely, and he told me, "Of course we do. Our song-"
"No," I interrupted, "Not 'This is Me' or 'Gotta Find You' but something else. Something that we didn't sing. Those songs are special, but they're all from Connect 3. All from you guys." (And me, but that didn't need to be said.) "We don't have a song by anyone else. And it's kinda depressing." That was a bad thing to add on, now he looked hurt, "Not that those aren't great songs to have, but I was... Sorry, I'll just be quiet now. Besides, we're almost to the studio, so why worry about it now." Shane sighed and turned to look at me, causing us to slowly drift to the side of the road, "Shane!" I yelled, "Road!"
He jumped slightly, "Sorry. And don't be upset. We do have a song. And it is so much better than Nate and Caitlyn's song."
I cocked an eyebrow, "What song would this be?"
Shane grinned, "Our song is a slamming screen door. Sneakin' out late, tappin' on your window. When we're on the phone and you talk real slow, cause it's late and you mama don't know. Our song is the way you laugh. The first date 'man, I didn't kiss her, and I should have.' And when I got home... Before I said amen, asking God if he could play it again."
He was so sweet. When he says stuff like that is when I remember why I fell in love with him. "You're right. That is better than Caitlyn and Nate's song." I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, "By the way, why didn't you kiss me after our first date?"
He blushed. I made THE Shane Grey blush. I rock. "I was nervous that you didn't want me to, and that you'd push me away. I don't handle rejection well."
I admit it. I 'awwwd' at him. Pressing a kiss to his cheek I murmured, "I never would have pushed you away. I love you."
As we pulled into the parking lot, he dropped his arm from my shoulders and pulled me into a long kiss, "I love you, too, Mitch. So much. I'm going to miss you so badly."
But not as much as I was going to miss him.
The goodbyes were tearful, and even Jason's goofy antics couldn't lift Caitlyn and mine's spirits. We sere just too sad. Nate pulled Caitlyn to the side and hugged her tightly, just as Shane was to me. He kept muttering 'I love you,' and I let the floodgates fall. Pretty sure that I had never, ever looked worse. His shirt would never be the same. We had only a short amount of time together and it was over before I felt like it had even started. Caitlyn and I clutched each other's hand and waved good – bye as the tour us left the lot.
I failed to notice Shane writing something down and calling someone as they departed. My eyes were too puffy to focus on anything. Caitlyn sniffled and with a tear rolling down her face, she turned to me, "Let's go home." I nodded, and we walked slowly, hand – in – hand to the taxi that was called for us.
Not wanting to be alone, I joined Caitlyn at her house where we pigged out on Ben and Jerry's, watched several mind numbing chick flicks, and had the latest Connect 3 CD on repeat. We were pathetic.
"We're pathetic." Caitlyn stated.
"Yeah, I know."
My mother called me hours later, telling me to come home and I hugged Caitlyn just as tight as I did Shane, "I'll call you tomorrow."
I kicked the ground with my feet as I walked up the front porch steps of my house, upset with everything that happened today. Everything was wrong and my heart was being torn apart – it hadn't been a day and I was already missing Shane terribly. I got to the hallway and was on my way to plop down on my bed, nearly not noticing the roses laying on my pillow and the note next to them that read, 'Our song is the slamming screen door. Sneakin' out late, tappin' on your window. When we're on the phone and you talk real slow, cause it's late and you mama don't know. Our song is the way you laugh. The first date 'man, I didn't kiss her and I should have.' And when I got home... Before I said amen, asking God if he could play it again.'
I smiled through my tears – at the very bottom it read, 'It's our song. Love, Shane.'
The next few days I listened to every album I owned, had the radio on constantly, trying to find a song that would beat ours, but none came close to it. Because our song is the slamming screen door. Sneakin' out late, tappin' on his window. When we're on the phone and he talks real slow, cause it's late and his mama don't know. Our song is the he laughs. The first date 'man I didn't kiss him and I should have.' And when I got home... Before I said amen, asking God if he could play it again.
So I thanked my lucky stars that when I was riding shotgun with my hair undone in the front seat of his car, that I grabbed a pen and old napkin and I wrote down our song.