67. Vanity


van·i·ty pl. van·i·ties

1. The quality or condition of being vain.

2. Excessive pride in one's appearance or accomplishments; conceit. See Synonyms at conceit.

3. Lack of usefulness, worth, or effect; worthlessness.


Andy sighed as he watched the group rehearse for the upcoming jam. Nate had been asked to play the drums for the group number. He knew it wasn't meant to be personal, but…that didn't stop it from stinging. But then again, what did Camp Rock need with two drummers? One was more than enough. Andy was merely the relief drummer or, at least, that's how he felt.

He was the spare—the extra. He shook his head and walked away from the outdoor stage area. He'd never regretted going to that music conservatory last summer more than he did at this moment. He was gone and Nate became the gang's go-to drummer. He wasn't trying to say Nate didn't deserve it or wasn't talented enough because he was. Nate was very talented.

But Andy was just as talented. He could play just as well. So why did Nate get so much more attention? The bottom line was that there could only be one really useful drummer at Camp Rock, and Andy wasn't it. He felt bad for being jealous of Nate. He and Nate were friends, and he knew Nate worked very hard for every bit of notice he received. But Andy did too only everything seemed to happen for Nate first.

Fame, recording contract, respect…

Dana.

Andy kicked a tree stump that was nearby and then immediately regretted it. He winced and groaned in pain as he hobbled over to the closest bench. That was stupid. That was very very stupid.

He heard a familiar giggle and turned toward it expectantly.

"For future reference, tree stumps always win in a fight. They're sort of rooted to the ground."

He attempted to smile, but he could tell he failed because Dana immediately gave him a concerned glance.

"I came all the way across the lake to see you and that's all the smile I get?" She asked worriedly. "What's wrong?"

He shook his head at her. "Nothing."

She rolled her eyes and sat down next to him. "Yeah, right, because you normally kick tree stumps and sit by yourself while looking depressed and sullen."

"You'd think it was stupid," Andy admitted.

"No, I wouldn't. I mean, not unless you're thinking about using guinea pigs in a plot to take over the world. That would be stupid," Dana said as she nudged his shoulder. He didn't even crack a smile. Dana sighed before she continued. "Come on, Andrew. Talk to me."

"What am I even doing here?" Andy asked as he stared at his hands. "No one really needs me to be here."

Her brow furrowed and she looked shocked for a moment. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm the bonus drummer. I'm basically useless."

"Okay," Dana said. "Never say that again."

"Why not? It's the truth," Andy said quietly.

"It is not, and you know it," Dana told him sternly.

"If it's not true then why am I the only member of the staff who's not involved in the group song for the jam tomorrow night?" Andy asked. "They have Nate on the drums. They don't need to use me. Therefore, I'm use-less."

"Andy-"

"No, really. Why do they need me? They have Nate. He's basically Superman, right? And I'm just…the guy who teaches his classes during his breaks," Andy as he leaned back on the bench and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Have you talked to Nate about this?" Dana asked curiously.

He shook his head. "No. I like him. He's a friend, and I don't want to offend him. Besides, he can't change the fact that I'm his understudy. I mean, what would he do about it? My uselessness is not his fault."

Dana sighed and swallowed thickly before she spoke softly. "You're not useless. Not to me."

Andy paused. Had he heard her right? "What?"

"I need you here," Dana said hesitantly. "You've become one of my best friends."

The corners of Andy's mouth twitched upward. "Best friend, huh?"

She smiled softly and leaned into Andy's shoulder lightly. "I can't imagine this summer without you."

He nodded and grinned at her. "Well, that certainly helps."

"And besides, I think your students would disagree about your 'uselessness'," Dana told him. "Don't you?"

He sighed. "I guess."

"I know you don't want to cause any problems, Andy. I get that, but…I really think you should talk to the gang about this," Dana said. "They probably don't even realize they're making you feel this way. You're a bit shy, and they know that. Just…let them know you want to perform with them. I have a feeling once you do that things will get better."

He glanced at her thoughtfully. "You have a secret dream to be a dancer, right?

Dana blushed and nodded. "Yes. I can't say I would succeed, but in an ideal world I would like to try."

"What if we make a deal?" Andy asked. "I'll tell the group how I feel if you ask Caitlyn for dance lessons."

Her eyes widened. "You want me to what?"

"Ask Caitlyn for dance classes," Andy repeated. "You could try it and see how you do."

"What if it turns out I'm an uncoordinated freak?" Dana asked worriedly.

Andy chuckled. "With the way you sneak up on people? I doubt it. You're practically a ninja."

Dana chuckled and smiled. "Okay, fine. You have a deal."

"Shake on it?" Andy asked.

Dana nodded and accepted the hand he held out to her. She gave it a shake and smiled brightly. She pulled his arm toward her and glanced at his watch before she released his hand. "So, you said the others are in rehearsals, right? So we have a while until they come looking for you?"

Andy nodded. "At least an hour. Maybe more."

"Do you think we can sneak into the kitchen and convince Mrs. Torres to make us some pancakes?" Dana asked eagerly.

Andy grinned at her amusement. "You want pancakes?"

Dana nodded. "Our cook is terrible. Connie is brilliant. Please?"

Andy chuckled and stood up. "Oh believe me, I have no objections. Pancakes are my favorite, remember?"

Dana cheered and grabbed his hand as she led him away to the Mess Hall.