YAY! Thanks to those who reviewed! You guys get a cookie! For those who added my story to their alert/ fave stories list, you guys get a muffin! Mmm... cookies and muffins. lol.
Okay. That is all I have to say for now. ENJOY THIS CHAPTER, my friends!
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CAMP ROCK OR ITS CHARACTERS. The song used in this story is called "I Will Follow You into the Dark" by Death Cab for Cutie.
--
Shane pressed his lips together and mentally punched himself.Stupid, stupid. He then dragged his feet to the Dining Room. Everyone was already sitting down around the table, helping themselves to Connie's spaghetti and salad. He quickly slipped into a seat next to Jason.
Shane had his face supported by his right hand, his hazel eyes looking tiredly at the slaughtered meatball as he repeatedly stabbed it with his fork. He was snapped out of his reverie by Jason's hand slapping his elbow.
"No elbows on the table, mister." Jason scolded, wagging a finger at Shane. The raven-haired boy glared at him, but obeyed. Mitchie looked from afar and was sending Shane daggers this whole time, but he didn't notice.
"Hey Jase, can you please pass the dressing?" she asked leniently. Jason shifted his gaze from Shane to Mitchie.
"But Shane's right next to it! He'll get it. Right, Shane?" He looked up from his plate and reached for the dressing at a snail's pace. Mitchie's eyebrows narrowed and she let out an inaudible sigh of frustration.
"That's o.k. Nevermind."
Connie and Nate watched at the sidelines, carefully observing what was going on. They shared a look of annoyance. "I'm not even going to ask what happened," Connie said. She was used to Shane and Mitchie's weekly fights.
The rest of the dinner was silent, except for the usual complimenting of the food from the boys.
--
Once they finished eating, the four teenagers helped Connie clean up. Shane and Mitchie helped clear the tables whilst Jason and Nate washed the dishes. As Mitchie picked up the remaining plates on the table, Shane walked next to her. A vein's breadth away from her face. "Hey, can I talk to you after the guys leave?" he whispered.
His presence shocked Mitchie, making her almost drop the plates. She shot him a glare. "No. I don't want to talk to you. Not now. Not ever."
Shane sighed and scratched the back of his head. "Don't be immature, Mitchie."
Her knuckles turned white from gripping onto the plates tightly. Her teeth were clenched. "And the King of Immaturityville is telling me this?!"
Shane merely nodded.
Finally giving in, Mitchie said, "Alright. Fine. Whatever."
He smiled victoriously and took the plates from her hands. "Cool. I'll meet you in your room later."
--
A couple of minutes afterwards, a limo stopped by the Torres' house and a tall, middle-aged man knocked on the door. He was wearing a driver's hat and a suit. His face showed nothing but seriousness.
Mitchie opened the front door and immediately hugged the driver. "James! Long time no see!" The driver stumbled back a little bit from the sudden force.
"Hello, Miss Michelle," he said formerly
Mitchie pulled out of the hug and shot him a playful look. "It's Mitchie. C'mon, James. How many times do we have to go through this?"
James ignored her question and said, "I have come to pick up Mr. Jones and Mr. Turner." With this, Mitchie turned around and yelled their names.
"NATE! JASON! James is here!" The two boys got up from the couch, holding their ears.
"Geeze, Mitchie. We're right here. No need to pop our eardrums," Nate muttered, walking out of the door. Jason followed.
"Thanks for the dinner, Connie. It was delicious." The oldest of the band members blurted.
"Oh, you're welcome. Come again, you two!" They waved.
"Bye!"
After the limo pulled out of the driveway, Connie stretched her arms and yawned. "Boy, what a day. Well, I best be off to bed. Don't you two stay up late, okay? It's a school night. Goodnight, sweetie." She pecked Mitchie on the cheek and walked across the hallway to her room.
"Goodnight, mom." Mitchie said and trudged up the stairs. She opened the door to her room and gaped what was standing in front of her. Shane was in the middle of pulling off his shirt. His tan, washboard abs showing. Shane wore nothing but his boxer shorts.
"Would it kill you to knock next time?" he said in a muffle, head halfway through his shirt.
"My eyes!" Mitchie yelled and turned around. She heard him scoff in the background.
"Don't be overly dramatic. It's not like you've never seen me half-naked before."
Mitchie turned around, avoiding his eyes. "I don't usually knock. Especially when I'm entering my own room. Besides, it's called a bathroom, Shane. Ever used one before?"
"A what?"
Mitchie rolled her eyes. "So… you said you wanted to talk to me? Shoot."
Shane rolled his clothes into a tight ball and awkwardly pressed them against his chest. "Uh.. I'msorryforblamingyouearlieron. Iwasajerk." Mitchie pretended to clean her ears with her pinkie. She leaned in closer, holding a hand close to her ear.
"What was that?"
Shane glared at her and took in a great deal of air. "I was a jerk to you. I'm sorry. And I-"
"Youuu're apologizing because you want to sleep in my room tonight instead of the couch. Am I right or am I right?" Mitchie crossed her arms and looked at him dubiously.
His eyes went wide open in mock surprise. "Wh-what? N-no!" His face relaxed. "Though I'd rather sleep in your comfy bed instead of that old, lumpy couch."
Mitchie shook her head, a smile creeping up on her face. "You do know how we're going to solve this, right?"
Shane blinked. "So… am I forgiven?"
"Yep." Mitchie said casually.
"And… are we friends?"
Mitchie's left eyebrow shot up. "You're pushing it, but… sure."
"Nice."
He made a running start and jumped on Mitchie's bed. The purple bed creaked underneath his weight but held intact. Mitchie scratched her head. "What are you doing?"
"If I'm going to sleep on your bed tonight, I might as well win it fair and square."
"Hold on. Let me change into my pajamas first." Mitchie exited the room, carrying a bundle of clothes (i.e her pajamas) and returned six minutes later.
"Shall I explain the rules?" asked the brunette, making her way to the bed.
"No need to. Whoever falls asleep first gets to sleep downstairs on the couch. Winner gets the bed."
"Alright. Ready? Begin." The pair looked at each other, both matching each other's stare. Neither showing hints of exhaustion.
Hours passed and before any of them knew it, the clock struck twelve. Mitchie's eyelids were drooping. Shane seized this opportunity to hum a song and lull Mitchie to sleep.
"Love of mine some day you will die
But I'll be close behind
I'll follow you into the dark
No blinding light or tunnels to gates of white
Just our hands clasped so tight
Waiting for the hint of a spark
If Heaven and Hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the NOs on their vacancy signs
If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark
In Catholic school as vicious as Roman rule
I got my knuckles bruised by a lady in black
And I held my tongue as she told me
"Son fear is the heart of love"
So I never went back
If Heaven and Hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the NOs on their vacancy signs
If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark
You and me have seen everything to see
From Bangkok to Calgary
And the soles of your shoes are all worn down
The time for sleep is now
It's nothing to cry about
'cause we'll hold each other soon
In the blackest of rooms
If Heaven and Hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the No's on their vacancy signs
If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark
Then I'll follow you into the dark."
That did it for Mitchie. Her eyes closed shut and she fell onto Shane's arms. Shane looked at her with bloodshot eyes. He had no energy to carry her downstairs so he pushed her back. His hand slipped off her arm and he landed face first onto the malleable, cozy pillow, right beside Mitchie. It was as if the pillow had some effect on Shane, for he had not stirred once he fell upon the soft material. In a flash, they drifted off into a dreamless slumber.
--
Mitchie emerged from sleep six hours later. Her digital alarm clock decorated with flowers and music notes flashed '6:30' in bright red numbers. The annoying BEEPS blaring out from it seized as she slammed her palm on the grey button. She looked out her window. The sky was the color of light granite. The sun was just rising and the birds were waking up. The brunette girl tried to sit up but something behind her was keeping her from doing so. That's when she realized that a muscular arm was wrapped around her waist. Should she scream or should she remain calm?
Mitchie decided to do the latter.
Slowly, but surely, she turned around, only to gaze at Shane's sleeping face.
Awkward…
"Shane," she croaked, tapping his right cheek gently. The egoistical popstar stirred and pulled her in closer. Shivers went up Mitchie's spine, a blush rose to her face. Calm down, Mitchie. He's just sleeping. She rattled her brain for ideas to wake him up. Finally settling onto one idea, she whispered, "Oh my gosh! Shane! Look, it's Emma Watson!"
Shane's eyes opened halfway. He lifted up his head as if in a dream. "Where?" His eyes locked with Mitchie, who was only a couple of inches away from his face. She smiled at him and gave him a small wave. Immediately, his eyes shot wide open and he fell off the bed- landing on the floor with a big THUD.
Mitchie peered over her bed with a smirk on her face. Shane was rubbing the back of his head, one eye closed tightly. "Oww." That's one way to wake someone up.
"Suck it up, popstar." She hopped off her bed and walked over to her closet. Her figure disappeared behind the closet door and reappeared a few seconds later, holding a bundle of clothes. Shane watched as she made her way to the bathroom door. Once she closed the door, he sighed and climbed back on her bed. He buried his face on her pillow and mumbled, "That's rockstar to you."
Warm water cascaded down Mitchie's body. She closed her eyes and let her muscles relax. Am I suddenly getting feelings for Shane I didn't have for him before? But.. I can't like him. He's my friend. Friends don't crush on each other. That's just weird. Argh. Just ignore it, Mitchie. One eye poked out from behind the shower curtain and took a quick peek at the chicken clock. She finished taking a shower and dried up.
Mitchie walked down the stairs, fully clothed, teeth brushed. Connie had put two pieces of chocolate chip pancakes on her plate. Mitchie walked up to her and kissed her on the cheek. "Good morning, mom."
Connie smiled and looked at her daughter. "Good morning, sweetie. Did Shane sleep in your room last night? I didn't see him on the couch this morning."
Mitchie chuckled. The way her mom asked the question made it seem like Shane was their dog. "Yeah. He wanted to sleep on my bed so we had our contest and we both ended up sleeping on it. And before you can say anything else, no we did not do anything that falls under the 'pervert' category."
"Haha. Well, alright. Here's your breakfast. Eat quick or you'll be late for school." Mitchie followed and stuffed a whole pancake in her mouth.
"Howff diff?" she said, her cheeks bulging. Connie shook her head and went back to making more pancakes.
Mitchie finished within five minutes. She gulped down her orange juice and set her dish on the sink. She carried her bag (which she took downstairs with her after she took a shower.. Lol) and made for the door. "I'm off to school. Breakfast was delicious. See you later, mom." She didn't wait for her mom's response. Mitchie bolted out the door and ran to school.
Summerfield High (a school which I totally made up) was a couple of blocks away from her house. It took Mitchie a couple of minutes before she set foot on its snow covered grass.
She walked up the cement steps which led to the doors of the school. The ceaseless chatters of teens rang in her ears as soon as she opened the double doors. On both sides stood a line of red orange lockers. The tiled floors were red orange and white, the school's colors. Mitchie pushed passed a group of kids who were talking about some celebrity who was going to be attending Summerfield for a whole semester. This didn't attract her attention. Who cares if some snot-nosed celebrity is going to be coming to Summerfield?
A curly-haired brunette, whose tresses fell to her hips, approached Mitchie, carrying a neatly decorated binder and some books. "Hi Mitchie!" she greeted with a smile.
"Oh, hey Sierra." Mitchie replied, turning the combination to her locker. It opened smoothly. Pictures of boys and friends were taped neatly on one side of her locker. Mitchie slipped her bag inside and took out the necessary supplies: a binder, her algebra and bio books, and a pencil.
Mitchie and Sierra chatted for a while. Classes started at eight. The pin-straight haired girl lost interest in the conversation when Sierra brought up the mystery celebrity who was going to be attending their school, topic.
"I hear it's going to be a guy. Do you have any ideas to whom it may be?" she asked, curiosity showing in her eyes.
"To be honest, Sierra, I don't really care." Just then, her best friend's eyes went wide open, and her mouth almost touching the floor. Mitchie looked at her blankly.
"Jeez. Is that such a big deal? I didn't know it would offend you that much." She then noticed that the hallway had turned quiet. Was it something she said?
"L-look around, Mitch." Sierra whispered. Mitchie did as she was told. What she saw next shocked her the most.
--
DUHT DUHT DUUUUUHHHHH. Can you guys guess who it is? Hint: HIS name rhymes with 'pain' lol. I totally gave it away. JASON! (haha. Kidding.)
Question: Should guy-whos-name-rhymes-with-pain and Mitchie have an age/grade difference? If so... how much of an age/grade difference?
Another question: Should I make Caitlyn be Mitchie's friend right away or should I introduce her later on in the story?
REVIEW IF YOU WANT ME TO KEEP ON GOING!
LOLCHEMISTRY.
HAPPY COLUMBUS DAY!