Disclaimer: Seriously? You think I own the Jonas Brothers AND Camp Rock? Wow, I'm flattered. Really though, Camp Rock and JB belong to Disney. I just own Sabrina and well...other stuff. :D Like my signed poster from Phantom of the Opera. Cool huh? Woops. Enough babbling.

Everything else you need to know is in the first chapter but I would like to thank 0TwistedAngel0 once again for being an amazing beta! She's awesome!

Hope you guys enjoy and sorry this took so long. Krys was on vacation and I didn't wanna bother her while she was having fun! I was also at Choir Camp so...

Anyways, this chapter is short but chapter 4 will be up soon and it should be longer. Cheers!


Chapter 3: You're Not Sorry

She looked at her watch. It was two in the afternoon. The girl, who Shane had talked about, Mitchie, had arrived a grand total of two and a half hours ago and Nate still had not come out of his room. Mitchie, being the shy but caring girl she obviously was, had tried unsuccessfully to get him to hang out with her and Shane but he simply stayed holed up in his room, no doubt strumming out songs about how much he hated her. She didn't care though. What more did he want? He never said, so how was she supposed to know? She groaned. He was so infuriating.

She checked her watch again. Shane and Mitchie had gone to explore to grounds and to swim in the indoor heated pool that was somewhere behind the mansion. Jason had gone to their house to grab some clothes. After an extremely long discussion with Melinda and Derek, she and Jason were going to stay with them instead of commuting back and forth. She had protested saying that it was going to be too much and that she would rather sleep in her own bed when in truth she only said that for Nate's well being. Mr. and Mrs. Gray being the people they were told her and Jay that they were staying there whether they wanted to or not. Her parents agreed. So, now she was waiting for her clothes and other personal items to show up so she could go out and have fun. She didn't like it being cooped up and she didn't like that the blonde ice-bitch, Tess, who was annoying her with constant texting and fingernail filing.

She rolled her eyes and got up off the couch. She passed Melinda and Derek and they gave her nods and smiles. They knew where she was heading whether or not she knew it herself. Soon enough, however, she was standing in front of his closed door and she could hear his guitar and his quite singing. She didn't want to be there. Why had her feet taken her to him? She didn't want to see him and she knew he sure as hell didn't even want her within one hundred feet of him. She had an urge to walk away but instead she simply knocked on his door.

The strumming of his guitar stopped. She heard his bed squeak and his foot steps get closer. A shadow fell across the floor in front of her. She took a breath. The door swung open to reveal Nate in all his angry glory. His guitar was clutched tightly in his left hand and the clothes he had been wearing when she arrived were haphazardly tossed on the edge of the bed. He was now wearing a white wife beater and basketball shorts. He glared at her but moved to the side motioning her to come in. She released the breath she had been holding and took a step inside. The door slammed shut and she jumped.

"What do you want?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Can we talk?"

"Sure, Sabrina, let's talk," Nate said the sarcasm apparent in his voice. "But, about what? How you dumped me in a time when you were everything to me?! I needed you and you just left!"

Sabrina cringed. "I'm sorry," she said looking down at the floor.

"You're not sorry."

Her eyes widened in anger. "How do you know what I am and what I'm not? I have apologized so many times-"

"Those were nothing! You didn't mean anything by them!" He raged. "And you still don't!"

"You don't know how I feel, Nate! I feel horrible about what I've done-what I did! I have tried so many times to make you see that I had no choice!"

"Oh, you just had to abandon me? You should've fought for me! You should've been there!"

"Nate, you don't understand!" Sabrina's voice cracked. Tears welled in her eyes. "You just, you don't understand," she whispered.

There was a pause and silence cloaked the room. He put his guitar he had been holding back on the stand and walked over to her. She sat down in the chair he had under his writing desk. He kneeled down in front of her. She looked at him with a mystified expression plainly written on her face. He confused her so much. She wasn't sure how he went from angry to caring in such a short span of time, but he pulled it off gracefully.

"I don't want to hurt anymore, Sabrina."

The sincerity grated on her nerves and she shot up from the chair and crossed to the door.

"You can't always get what you want."

She reached for the door knob but he spoke, stopping her in her tracks. "We're not finished yet," he said through clenched teeth.

"Oh yes we are, Nate." Her voice raised an octave. "Just as you said, I don't want to hurt anymore. We don't talk, we argue. I'm tired of arguing!"

Sabrina turned the knob a fraction of an inch then Nate was in front of her. His lips crashed onto hers and he kissed her with a ferocity that made her stumble backwards with shock. She froze but soon found herself a willing participant in the dance their mouths were making. They pulled apart moments later gasping for breath and glaring at each other. Nate moved away from her and sat down on his bed. He scratched the back of his neck then looked up at her. She was leaned against the door, her lips parted in amazement and her chest heaved up and down as her lungs desperately scrambled for oxygen.

"Get out," he fumed but the threat that was in his voice earlier was gone. She could hear the difference.

"I'm sorry."

"No, you're not." He turned away from her and picked up his guitar that had long ago been discarded. He climbed up onto his bed and began strumming, his face devoid of all emotion.

She nodded. The conversation was over. She sighed and spun around to open the door. With one last look at the curly headed boy sitting on the bed, she walked out of his room, down the stairs and out the front door. Melinda and Derek's gaze followed her-they wanted to know what had happened-but she didn't feel like relaying the details. She just felt like getting a little fresh air. She hoped it would help with the image that was now implanted on her brain.

The image of his face, full of wanton need, passion, and forgiveness, would be forever seared in her memory.