Chapter 6. Enjoy :)
You are up earlier than you intended to be the next morning. Your eyes are groggy, your vision blurry, as you rise from your bed, and stumble around your bedroom, pulling on your jeans, and throwing on some t-shirt you find at the bottom of your wardrobe. You don't even spare a glance in the mirror, before leaving your room, running your fingers through your hair. You flip open your phone, grimacing at the time, and dial the taxi service. You figure Alan is off because of the late night. You are stepping outside as you hang up. The air is already warm, as it always seems to be in California, and you suddenly regret not wearing shorts, and trying to get a tan as you stretch out and wait for the taxi to arrive. You're not really sure where you're going to go. You don't know where Caitlyn lives, nor do you have her cell number, and you doubt Shane would be up at such a time, let alone appreciate an impromptu visit.
You realise that you maybe should have thought this over, but just as you are about to head back inside you see the taxi pulling up outside the gate. Sighing, you open the gates, and climb into the car.
"Where to?" the driver is an older man, with a friendly smile and a beard that reminds you of Alan.
"The beach," you say, turning to look out the window. When you realise the car hasn't move you look back at the driver. He is staring at you, eyebrows raised.
"Not a local?" he asks and you shrug, shaking your head, "well then, I recommend you learn your beaches," he winks at you, making you smile a little, "Santa Monica pier, that's a good place to start."
You shrug your shoulders again, and nod to him, giving him permission to drive you wherever he wants. You couldn't care less at this point.
You've been trying to block out last night's fight all morning, but as the cab driver pulls away, you can't stop the memory. You can't remember the last time you and Connie got on, but that one was particularly bad. Normally you just snapped at her, and refused to talk. This time, the evidence is rimming your eyes in red hours later, and your chest contracts at just the thought of it. You don't think you and Connie are ever going to be the same.
A while later, you feel the cab slow and come to a stop, and the driver coughs getting your attention.
"Santa Monica," he says, and tells you the cost of the cab ride. You pull out far too much money, and tell him to keep the change. He mutters a very enthusiastic thank you, before you step out of the car, and into the open air.
The pier is quiet, few people milling around at this time in the morning. You wave to the cabbie as he pulls away before you set off down the boardwalk. The sun is still low in the sky, casting a pretty light over the beach. You can't help but feel content, as you buy a beach towel from a stall that's just opening up, along with a pair of shorts, changing into them behind the towel, and heading off down towards the beach. You like the way no one knows you here. You are no longer his daughter, or the girl the world will soon think Shane Grey is in love with, or even Mitchie, the girl who hates her mother.
You are simply a person, another early riser out to enjoy the sun. No one is paying any attention to you. You are anonymous.
"Mitchie?" you turn, and to your surprise find a topless Nate standing behind you, a surprised look on his face. So much for that you groaned inwardly. He is panting, and you realise he must be out for a morning jog.
"Nate," you try to muster some enthusiasm, but the look on Nate's face tells you that you failed.
"I can go…" He gestures past you, as if he's willing to run on, but you take pity on him, and shake your head, and smile slightly.
"Walk with me?" you ask, and he beams, which surprises you again. He seems genuinely happy that you both fall into step together.
"I had a good time last night," you say, after an awkward pause. He nods, smiling again. You notice his smile is more alive than Shane's, and he has a bounce in his step that Shane's is missing. But you also notice that he's a lot shorter than Shane. You're much nearer his height, and you wouldn't have to crane on your tiptoes to wrap your hands around his neck. All the same though, you think you like Shane's height anyways. Nate is however the perfect height for Caitlyn. They would match maybe an inch between them. They'd be perfect together.
"Me too," he agrees, "bar the whole Tess thing, of course, and we never got to hear you sing." He makes a put on pouting face, and you laugh loudly.
"You're apparently going to hear me today anyway," you say, and he nods contemplating this.
"True," he says, "especially if Caity has anything to do with it. She's determined." He dons a little smile at the mention of Caitlyn, and you yourself have to stop yourself from grinning. They are too cute for words, and they're not even together yet.
"So it seems," you say, as the two of you turn down onto the beach. It's a little busier than you anticipated, but it's beautiful anyway, "so, you and Caitlyn?" You nonchalantly bring the conversation to the subject that has most peaked your interest, as you lay your towel on the sand.
"Caitlyn and I," he repeats, lowering himself to the sand, but you don't miss the blush. He's in that deep.
"Oh come off it Nate," you laugh, sitting down beside him on the towel, and lightly push him, before lying back, and closing your eyes to shield them from the sun, "you two are so oblivious to each other."
Nate snorts in protest.
"I am not oblivious to her. At all. She, on the other hand, is never going to notice me."
Your eyes fly open, and you turn over on your side, glaring at Nate, who's sitting up, leaning back on his hands. You scoff at him.
"Don't be stupid," you chastise, "she is head over heels."
He glances down at you, a sceptical look on his face.
"Yeah sure," his voice is layered heavily with sarcasm. You can't help but think he learnt it from Shane.
"Yeah sure," you repeat, in all seriousness, "Make a move, Nate. She really likes you."
You both sit in silence for a while, and you have turned over onto your back again, the heat beating down on your legs and arms, before Nate speaks again.
"You think so?" he sounds hopeful, young, and cautious.
"Yeah, I do," and even though you can't see him, you know he's smiling, his face turned up to the sun too.
xxxx
"Okay, so you think I should suggest an acoustic set?" Nate asks, turning the key in the door of Shane's house, hours later.
"Yeah," you nod, stepping inside, sighing happily as the cool air hits you, "like even just getting rid of the beats behind some of your songs you've already released. That could make it easier for the fans to become accustomed to it. Then you could move on to new songs."
Nate nods, accepting your advice, and looking like he is actually going to consider it.
"Yeah," he nods, smiling at you, "that could be cool."
You give him a toothy grin, at which he laughs. You've found it so easy to talk to Nate. He's not asking for deep and meaningful, and somehow, it seems he doesn't hate you as much as you originally thought.
"Nate," you look around to the sound of Shane's voice. He walks into the hall, and you feel Nate stiffen a little beside you. You think, maybe, just maybe, Shane hasn't quite decided to tolerate you like Nate has. He is looking down at some sort of handheld device, maybe a phone, and seems distracted.
"Nate," he repeats, still oblivious to your presence, "you haven't heard for Mitchie have you? Her dad just called. She's disappeared, and he's blaming me. I'm supposed to be 'looking after' her, apparently," he makes quotation marks with his free hand, still typing with the other, "Ugh, the dude hates me enough already. Is she just trying to make my life a living hell?"
You cough politely, lightly, causing Shane to raise his head, and he sees you're there for the first time. You give him a half smile. He seems surprised to see you, then angry, then just relieved.
That patience you felt from him last night is completely gone though.
"Where the hell were you?" he asks, looking down at his phone again, "your dad's worried sick. Psycho so he is. He thinks I've kidnapped you. As if."
Shane scoffs loudly, while slipping his phone into his back pocket (though how he has enough room in though jeans you'll never know). This hurts a lot more that you ever imagined. Okay, so you never thought Shane would like you, but he seems so disgusted at the idea of actually wanting to be with you for any given period of time that you can't help the stab of pain. You've never felt so hated before.
"He's not my dad," you blurt out before you can stop yourself. Shane looks confused, and does a double take.
"Yes he is," he insists, and you can almost see him going over it all in his head.
"Biologically maybe, but he's not my dad," you repeat, "and I'd appreciate it if you didn't call him that, thanks."
Shane has fallen silent, and you turn back to Nate, who is still standing behind you, and point towards the basement.
"Shall we?" you ask, and he nods, and leads the way. You're about to shut the door behind you, when you turn back to see Shane regarding you with a curious, interesting expression. You ignore it, and smile at him again, before heading down after Nate.
xxxx
"You know the point of brainstorming is to actually come up with an idea," you moan, tossing another crumpled piece of paper in the bin, "and you've rejected all of mine and yours." You lay yourself down on the couch, stretching out, and groaning.
"Well if I go ahead with this," Nate countered, from his seat by the sound board, "it has to be perfect."
You roll your eyes again, and stare down at the fresh sheet of notepad.
"You could just announce it on air, in some interview. Caitlyn was saying you guys are on Ellen next week," you suggested, but know it's a failure when Nate's face puckers.
"Ugh, fine, whatever," you give up, "can we please mess with a song now."
"But what about my predicament?" he whined.
"As interested as I am in you and Caitlyn getting together, there is only so many 'absolutely not's I can take," you tell him, swinging your legs down and pulling yourself into a sitting position, "plus Caitlyn will be here soon. We can't talk about it then."
"True," he sighs, he too throwing a last sheet of paper into the bin, "well get over here then. We haven't got all day."
You rise, and make your way over to where he's sitting.
"So, I have this song I wrote a while back," he says, rooting through a door and producing a C.D. and sticking it into the drive, "it's nothing of importance, nothing that can be put on an album anyway. I thought it would be perfect to mess around with."
You nod, and smile at him, but frown as the lyrics begin to play.
"I will never let you fall
I'll stand up with you forever
I'll be there for you through it all
Even if saving you sends me to heaven."
"Nate?"
"Yeah?"
"Who exactly did you write this song for?" you ask, and he looks up at you, pausing with his fingers lingering over the buttons, and you see comprehension dawn on his face.
xxxx
You arrive early for sound check later that night. Caitlyn hadn't made it to Shane's earlier, because of some sort of hair dying emergency (which sounded vaguely frightening to you), which had caused you to suggest that Nate spend the day practicing and sing the song at the concert that night, while you dodged your house at a local mall.
"It's now or never," you'd told him. He had just looked queasy.
This was some charity gig that the band had to go to. They'd organised it months before they found out about Brown's wedding, and the show had to go on, despite the late night.
You hold your V.I.P card up to the bouncer and he nods you backstage. It's manic back there, and you duck to avoid a collision with a speaker.
"Mitchie?" you seek out the voice that shouts your name and you find Caitlyn, her hair all piled up under a beanie, as she waits outside a door that reads 'Band'.
"Hey," you say, and can't help but smirk at her beanie, "I like the hat."
She laughs, but doesn't answer you, and just opens the door to reveal a nervous looking Nate, Shane styling his hair, and Jason and Willow sitting on the couch, whispering to each other. The presence of someone who doesn't know puts you on high alert, and you stretch on a happy smile.
"Hey," you say, moving towards Shane, who looks away from the mirror startled. You throw a glance at Willow, and Shane for his part immediately catches on.
"Hey babe," he smiles up at you.
"No pet names," you hiss at him again, still smiling, as you pull over a chair, and settle yourself beside him, although facing away from the mirror he is still preening himself in.
"Sure thing, honey," he leers at you, at an angle that Willow can't see, but he has this sparkle in his eye, that tells you he's only messing with you. Shaking your head at him, you turn to Nate.
"You ready for tonight, Nate?" you ask, and he glares at you, as if you've given it all away. You enjoy watching him squirm as Caitlyn looks between you, confused.
And you think it's beyond hilarious when Caitlyn leans over to him, and his already red face turns a lovely shade of purple.
"Are you okay Nate?" she asks, still peering closely at him. He waves her away, brushing his hair from his face.
"Fine, fine," he grumbles, before standing and marching across the room.
"See you later Nate," you call cheerfully as Caitlyn follows behind him, looking as painfully unaware of tonight's plans as ever.
"Yeah, whatever," he mutters, letting Caitlyn pass before him, and slamming the door loudly behind her.
"What was that about?" Shane asks, and you turn back to him, beaming at yourself.
"Nothing, nothing at all," you snicker secretly to yourself, and Shane just looks at you oddly, in a way that says, 'tell me now'.
"Oh, you'll find out at sound check anyways," you roll your eyes at him.
You all sit in silence then, the only sound, the odd giggle from Willow and Jason, who are still whispering quietly on the couch.
"You know you something," you say to Shane after a while, and he glances up at you, from his phone, which he is still surgically attached to, "they're just as cute- and disgusting-as Nate and Caitlyn." Shane regards you for a second, before nodding, and agreeing.
"You think that's bad?" he says, lowering his phone onto his dresser, and turning to face you fully, "you should've seen them when they first started going out. They were revolting. That's why I've planned to never fall in love. It sickens people."
"Shush," you tell him wide eyed, afraid Willow has heard him, but when you look back at her you realise they're far too wrapped up in each other to notice anything either of you are saying.
"Never mind," you say, and he laughs a little, until something you'd been thinking, but hadn't meant to say aloud, slips out, "but, you have haven't you, been in love?"
You can't believe you've said it, and slap a hand over your mouth the minute the words are out, but what's said is said, and Shane, for his part, doesn't seem all that angry.
"With Tess?" he says her name with a lot more ease than you imagined, "I guess I thought I was. But I wasn't. You can be sure of that." You nod to him, and he continues to look at you with this look on his face. You don't actually know what exactly it is, but it intrigues you.
"What's the look for?" you ask, glancing away from him and then back again. You notice in this light, his eyes have a dark ring of green around the iris, which sort of entrances you.
He's extremely good looking, you have to give him that much. He might be a pig, and horrible and you might hate him a little, but there were certainly no guys quite like him in your old school.
"Have you ever been in love?" his question startles you, and causes you to snap from a reverie you have drifted into. You slowly shake your head.
"No," you tell him, looking him in those startling eyes, "in fact, you're my first boyfriend." You give a dry laugh as you watch his eyebrows shoot up.
"Really?" he asks, eyebrows still raised.
"Really," you repeat, and begin to play with a thread on your t-shirt, "I wasn't exactly what you'd call popular. I didn't have many guy friends."
He contemplated this for a second, and scoots his chair, so now it's turned to face you.
"Tell me about it," he says, and you look up at him in surprise, "I figure, you're going to be around for a while. Why not get to know you?"
You smile at him, take and deep breath and think where to start.
"Well, my best friend's name is Sierra, she's seventeen –I'm seventeen in August. We got to know each other 8th grade homeroom..."
xxxx
Shane nods his head as you tell him about the music programme at your old school, an hour later.
"And you were into singing right?" he asks, and you blush deeply.
"No, I was more of a piano, guitar girl," you correct him, "I write songs and that, but only in private. Sierra is the only person who's ever heard me sing. And maybe Connie, when I was in the shower. I mainly took part in the musicals, you know in the orchestra."
Shane nods again, and if he noticed you using your mom's first name he doesn't mention it. You find that Shane's actually been interested. Surprisingly, for someone who's whole world apparently revolves around himself, he seems pretty comfortable listening to you talk about yourself for the good part of an hour.
He's about to ask you something, and his mouth is open when Nate bursts into the otherwise empty room. Jason and Willow disappeared over a half hour ago.
"I'm not doing it," he shouts, and you jump, and turn to look at him.
"You're not doing what?" Shane says from behind you, and you stand, and ignore him.
"Nate Black," you step closer to him, your voice at a low level that you've never even heard from yourself before, "I did not sit with you for hours today so you could back out. You are not a quitter. And you'd better get out there on that stage and sing the damn song, or so help me God, I will tell her right now."
"Tell who what?" Shane's voice interjects, and this time you look back at him, and hold up one finger to him, pleading for him to give you just one second. Surprisingly he nods to you, and you turn back to Nate.
"Nate," you close the gap between you, so you are looking right up at him, and the anger webs away. He's nervous and scared, and you can understand why. He really likes Caitlyn, but you're not about to let him ruin his chances, "I promise this won't go wrong, I've told you that. I'll even play guitar for you. I don't do that for just anything."
You listen as he takes a shuddering breath.
"Promise?" he whispers, and you watch him relax under your gaze. He takes a shaky breath and smiles, "well then it's show time."
"Show time," you repeat and smile at him.
"Show time?" Shane asks coming to stand beside you, "you know we're just doing sound check right? For like Caitlyn, Willow and Mitchie... And the lighting guy. The concert isn't until nine."
Nate glances at you, and you just nod in the direction of the stage and he heads out the door.
Holding out your hand, you motion for Shane to take it in his, and he obliges. This time, lightly, and delicately so that he's merely just stringing himself to you. It's really funny actually, because you can imagine what you look like to other people, and it's so far from the truth. Image is in fact everything, after all.
He leads you out after Nate, and you follow his stride, so the two of you are walking side by side. "Want to tell me what that was about?" he whispers, leaning down to talk to you. You move past a man shouting about hairbrushes into a Bluetooth, and two women pouring over a laptop. It's packed back here, and you find yourself barely able to breathe.
"Remember when we agreed that Caitlyn and Nate need to get it on?" you say to him, as you both reach the edge of stage right, "well maybe our wish is about to come true." He does a double take, and his face is questioning, and surprised. You shoot him and wink, and he smiles, shaking his head.
"I underestimated you, Torres," he says, and you grin back at him, over your shoulder as you head onto the stage, taking a guitar someone hands you out of nowhere.
"That's everyone's first mistake, Gray. There's way more to me than just a pretty face," you call, and he breaks out into the first real face consuming smirk you've ever seen him give. You're not sure, but you think you even hear him laugh as you reach Nate, who's standing nervously beside the microphone situated centre stage. He's cracking his knuckles, and biting his lip, and if you could you'd laugh at him. He's worrying about nothing.
"You ready, kid?" you sling the guitar strap over your shoulder, and as he nods, not even looking up, you turn back towards another microphone. The stage lights flash on, and you are temporarily blinded, before they dim, and Nate holds a thumb up. You focus on the audience, as he straightens up. The venue is a lot smaller than Connect 3 are used to playing, but it's definitely not tiny by any comparisons. There are a couple of people milling around in front of the stage, but the most important person, Caitlyn, is sitting about twenty rows from the front, with Willow and Jason. You can't see her face properly, but can imagine she's frowning, confused. She's still wearing the ridiculous beanie too, but you can tell she's watching the stage intently. Mainly because she always watches Nate.
"Hey," he says, and is greeted by his own echo reverberating off the walls, "so, Mitchie convinced me I needed to do this. She said it was about time." He looks back at you, but doesn't really see you, facing the microphone again and then clears his throat, "so, this is for Caity. They've all been for you."
You're not entirely positive, but you're pretty sure a "me?" rings through the arena, and from stage right you can practically hear Shane rolling his eyes.
Nate, for his part, turns back to you, and gives you a half smile. You nod back, position your fingers correctly on the fret board, and begin to play. It comes as easy as it always has, like breathing.
"When I see your smile, Tears run down my face, I can't replace, And now that I'm strong I have figured out, How this world turns cold and it breaks through my soul, And I know I'll find deep inside me I can be the one"
Nate's voice is even more amazing here than in the recording studio, and you can hear every emotion dripping from each note.
"I will never let you fall, I'll stand up with you forever, I'll be there for you through it all, Even if saving you sends me to heaven"
You strum each chord out, clear and precise along with Nate's voice, and you feel the whole world still. Even though you're not singing, you love this buzz, the adrenaline that comes from performing. You vow right then and there, as Nate declares his love for Caitlyn, that you'll never give this up. Even if you never sing, you can't imagine never playing for anyone again.
"It's okay. It's okay. It's okay. Seasons are changing, And waves are crashing, And stars are falling all for us. Days grow longer and nights grow shorter I can show you I'll be the one. I will never let you fall
I'll stand up with you forever. I'll be there for you through it all, Even if saving you sends me to heaven"
Nate has found his feet, and he's singing loudly now, and through the lights, you can see that Caitlyn has risen from her seat, and is now making her way down towards the stage, her eyes locked on Nate. She looks happy, and scared, and surprised… but mostly so so happy.
"Cuz you're my, you're my, my, my true love, my whole heart, Please don't throw that away, Cuz I'm here for you, Please don't walk away and please tell me you'll stay."
"Use me as you will, Pull my strings just for a thrill, And I know I'll be okay, Though my skies are turning gray."
The audience likes that, and they laugh with Nate as he sings, and you can feel him smiling now. He belongs on stage, just like Shane, just like you.
"I will never let you fall, I'll stand up with you forever. I'll be there for you through it all, Even if saving you sends me to heaven."
There's this huge beat of silence, before everyone who's stopped to watch Nate's performance breaks out into thunderous applause, and loud awes. Shane is suddenly by Nate's side, patting him on the back, and then he turns back to you and nods, with a little smile, and you're grinning.
Nate, on the other hand, is still facing out into the audience, peering down towards the seats below.
"Nate?" the whole venue falls silent and turns to face Caitlyn who's suddenly standing about 10 feet from you. Her mascara has run, and her hat is gone, so her hair is hanging in purple –purple- curls around her face. She looks a mess, and beyond beautiful at the same time.
"Caity?" Nate says into the silence, and her face turns stony. In a blink of an eye, she runs at him, and begins to pound on his chest.
"Nate punch Black pound how punch dare pound you punch wait pound this punch long pound to punch tell pound me," she screams at him, half laughing, half truly angry, and after a final half hearted slap on his shoulder, she falls on to him, burying her face in the crook of his neck, and he hesitantly wraps his arms around her waist, as she throws her own around his torso. They look sweet, and cute, and you think that maybe Caitlyn could be crying (with happiness hopefully), because she seems to be shaking in Nate's arms.
"She's a wild one, our Caity," Jason is beside you now, along with Willow, and the two of them are watching Nate and Caitlyn with amused expressions, their hands intertwined between them.
"Tell me about it," Willow agrees, soft spoken as ever, "they'll be good for each other, I think. Cait and Nate, sure their names rhyme."
You laugh a little at this, but your eyes don't move from the other couple on the stage. One of Nate's hands have moved to Caitlyn's hair, and he's awkwardly patting her head. They look mismatched, almost the same height, one with dark brown hair, another with blazing purple, but somehow they seem to fit.
Caitlyn pulls back, away from Nate's neck, but her arms remain in the same position. They look at each other for a full thirty seconds before someone in front of the stage yells out.
"Just kiss her already." Everybody laughs, and before you know it, Nate's hand has moved to Caitlyn's cheek, and he's kissing her fiercely. Everyone, including you, bursts into cheers and applause, and someone calls out , "took you long enough".
"Finally," Shane is beside you, his head cocked, staring at his two best friends. He glances down at you, his expression softer than you have ever seen it, and he says quietly, "thanks."
You shrug, and send him a half smile, "no problem."
"I mean it," he whispers now, so your sure only you can hear, "you've just made two of my best friends really happy. You don't even know them that well."
You raise your shoulders lightly again, still staring at Nate and Caitlyn. They've pulled apart, and the crowd has dispersed, but the newly formed couple seem to be whispering together.
"They're good people. And Caitlyn made me feel welcome," you tell him, "and then so did Nate. Although now I think of it, that may have had something to do with Caitlyn herself."
You chance a glance at Shane, and you can see that he's trying not to laugh. You narrow your eyes, and hit him across the chest.
"It's more than some people did," you snap playfully, and he becomes solemn.
"Look, Mitchie," he says, "it wasn't anything personal, it's just-"
His eyes are wide, and you notice their hazel colour even more under the stage lights. His tanned skin, and dark hair compliments his appearance, and you have to admit again that you can understand what those screaming girls are so excited about.
You hold up at hand, and shoot him an easy grin, "it's already forgotten." And it is. Shane had a right to hate you. You would've hated you too, barging in and ruining your life like that.
"Fine," he says, after a second, "but I owe you one of those crappy ice creams you like so much."
You glance up at him again, surprised he remembered this fact as well. He is grinning at you, and taps his temple.
"Smarter than I look," he tells you, and you laugh, nodding.
"A lot more than a pretty face," you agree, repeating what you said about yourself earlier, beginning to exit the stage, him following, before you're aware that he has stopped, and you turn back to face him.
"You think I have a pretty face," he snickers, and you just roll your eyes, and continue on your way.
"Just don't let it get to your head, pop star," you tell him over your shoulder. He's standing in the same spot, and he hasn't moved an inch. He is just staring at you, scrutinising you, like he's trying to wrap his mind around something he can't really understand. You stare back for a moment, and you try to read his expression, but it's difficult. You can't decide whether or not he likes what he's looking at.
After a moment, he jumps out of his trance, as a girly high pitched voice screams, "hurry up, we do actually have concert to put on tonight! Unless you want me to lose my job!"
"Stage manager," he says, reaching you and gently pushing you forward with a hand on your lower back, "and believe me you do not want to cross Kristin before a show. Last time I did, I end up singing the first set wearing clothes soaked with a cold caramel macchiato with cream." You can't help but let a laugh escape even when Shane sends you a menacing look.
"You were good out there, you know," his comment startles you, as you both make your way back to the dressing room, "you're really good on the guitar. It's been a long time since I've seen someone love to play that much."
You can't help but blush, and he's still watching you intently, but you ignore him, and just brush it off.
"Well it's been the only thing I could love for a really long time," you admit, quietly, setting the guitar down on the sofa, "so, I guess I couldn't help but love it a lot."
xxxx
"Thanks guys," you hear someone call out into the audience, as Connect 3 finish their second encore of the night. They announced some time during the encore that ticket and merchandise sales, as well as private donations, had grossed about a million for the charity, which helped children with cancer. Along with a million donated from the band, and another from the record label, $3 million was going to help a lot of kids who needed it.
You're contemplating this, when the door of the dressing room bursts open, and Shane marches in, looking hot and worked up and happy, chugging back a bottle of water . Nate follows behind, the same look on his face, only he's carrying a guitar, and then Jason who's got a pile of posters under his arm. Caitlyn disappeared before the performance started, presumably to watch from the audience with Willow.
"That was awesome," Nate tells you, crossing the room to bend over and throw his arms around you. The hug says it all, and you gently hug him back.
"Best show ever," Shane agrees, "the crowd was wild." He's behind a screen, and appears to be changing from his outfit.
"I think all that screaming was really from Caitlyn," Jason teases, and Nate, who's now picked up his own bottle of water, throws some at Jason. Shane emerges from behind the screen, laughing, in new jeans and a t-shirt, his hair glued to his forehead with sweat.
"Ah come on now Nate, 3 million dollars for the kids down at the hospital, who're all going to get their last wishes, and you've got yourself a girlfriend," Shane reasons, "not a bad night to say the least."
Nate rolls his eyes, and lowers himself down beside you.
"So how was the two hours back stage by yourself?" he asks, eyebrows raised.
"Thrilling," you say sarcastically, "but the night is young, and Shane said he owes me a McFlurry."
"Oh really?" Nate's eyebrows remain high on his forehead, "imagine what Eddie will say when the paps snap photos of Shane taking his girlfriend on their first public date, to a fast food place. You are so not getting to go on Ellen if you do."
Shane pulls face, and Nate, very childishly, sticks out his tongue.
"Ellen?" all the boys turn to you, "what the big deal?"
"Everyone loves going on Ellen," Jason informs you, "Shane is not going to risk that for anything." You're still looking at them both, you pull on your sweater, and stand up, brushing yourself off. Shane too, seems to have caught on to what you are going and has pulled on his jumper, and thrown up the hood. He picks a set of keys up off the vanity table, and heads to the door, pushing out into the hall, and disappears among the bustling bodies.
Following him, you pause as you close the door to confront the confused band members.
"Don't you people have drive throughs in Los Angeles?"
xxxx
"Your friends aren't the brightest," you tell Shane, as he drives you along in his SUV, down some street you don't recognise, lit by shiny neon lights. His car is expensive, the seats made of leather, with back heating, and four wheel drive.
"Caitlyn has a straight 4.0 GPA, and she's taking all AP classes. She's sixteen and skipped two grades in school. In September, she's headed to Princeton. Caitlyn is one of the brightest."
You let out a low whistle. You've never met anyone as smart as Sierra, but Caitlyn must be at least as, if not more, intelligent than your best friend. That's impressive to you. What's more impressive is that Shane has managed to become friends with someone with such an obviously high IQ. You're no Sierra, but you know the two of you have remained close for so long because you can have equally simulating conversations.
As if he knows what you're thinking Shane begins to speak.
"I am also Mr. Four Point Oh, skipped one grade, and took all AP classes when I was touring. Graduated when I was seventeen, as in last year, and when this music thing is over, which it will be eventually, I want to be a lawyer, then a judge," he tells you, and you remain silent, watching him, listening to him. He doesn't take his eyes off the road, but you can see that he has a smug smile on his lips. Maybe not just because he one upped you, but because he's proud of himself.
"We were eleven," he continues, "the summer before the one when I met Nate and Jase, and we were at a camp our school set us up with. Camp for kids with high IQs. Summer school for people who wanted to be there basically. And Caitlyn and I were the only two kids there that were interested in music. We've been best friends ever since."
He has this smile on his face, the one people get when they're remembering something really good.
"You know," you begin, smiling at his smile, because, you'll admit, he looks cute with that half grin, "I get straight As and skipped a grade in middle school. I'll graduate next June, aged seventeen, just like you. I want to be a doctor. Help kids with cancer like the ones that you were raising money for. If the music thing doesn't work out, of course."
He looks at you from the corner of his eye as you say this, apprehensively, like he's not sure he should believe you.
"Why wasn't this in your manual?" he asks, "and more to the point, why weren't you at camp, with the rest of us nerds?"
"Did you and Tess really discuss your grade point averages?" you ask, and aren't surprised when he shakes his head, "didn't think so. And Connie, well, she was raising me by herself. Single mom's don't have a spare three thousand bucks lying around, to send their kids to summer camp. I made do with buying my school books early, and learning the material while Sierra spent the time in China, Japan, all over Asia really. Her Dad's a CEO from Hong Kong, who does most of his work by web calls from our small town. And when we got older, she still went to Asia, just on exchange programs. So I spent my time with her exchange students teaching them English, and learning sketchy Mandarin."
He stays silent after this, like he's not sure what to say to someone who hasn't been rich all their life.
"I'm not ashamed of the fact that we didn't have money, Shane," he looks startled that you've addressed him, and so bluntly dictated what he was thinking, "I'm angry that the guy who was supposed my dad was sitting in L.A. in some big ass mansion, while my mom was working double shifts at the supermarket so she could send me on my field trips. He had all this money, all this crap he didn't even need, he didn't even share, and we were struggling."
Shane nods his head, and you lean back on the headrest of the passenger seat, closing your eyes, signalling the end of the conversation. You like this Shane, and you've had all this pent up inside of you for so long that you actually want to tell him, but there are some things you just don't want to discuss.
You're not sure how much longer you are driving before Shane slows the car, and winds down the window, ordering a two hamburgers, fries, sodas and a McFlurry. Opening your eyes, you see Shane throw the bag the woman hands him onto the back seat.
Reaching behind you, you search through the back and pull out the ice cream and the plastic spoon, and dig in, shovelling a spoonful into your mouth.
"Back home, in Wyoming, it took an hour's drive to get one of these," you tell him, moaning slightly as you take another lick. He raises an eyebrow at you, laughing at your expression and sounds, "I got McFlurries on birthdays and Christmas Eve only, unless Sierra's parents brought us to the city. This, a McFlurry for absolutely no reason of importance, is like the best thing ever."
"I've lived in cities my whole life. Can't imagine what it's like to live somewhere so small you don't even have a fast food joint."
You pause from your binging to glance up at him again, "maybe someday I'll show you?" It comes out as a question, but you both know you're not really saying what you seem to be. You're asking if there's a chance the two of you could be friends, that after everything you have to do, pretend to cheat on him, pretend to break his heart, and then pretend to leave him for the other guy, that maybe he might secretly come visit you, when you eventually get yourself back home.
"Yeah," he agrees, the corner of his lip pulling up, causing his cheek to dimple, "maybe."
You drive in silence then, you eating, his eyes on the road. Then something occurs to you. You haven't been back to the house since that morning, and you don't really fancy seeing either of them tonight.
"Hey Shane?" you say, sweetly, drawing out the verbs in his name, causing him to look at you suspiciously as best he can while on the road, "can I ask you a favour?"
So, the main point of this chapter (like all 7,000 words of it... longest chapter yet) was to establish a friendship between Mitchie and Nate, and also a tolerance between Mitchie and Shane. They've both accepted they're stuck with each other, and they've decided to put up with one another.
The real drama, Tess, and other unforseen obstacles will occur in the next chapter.
Review?