Sooo, I took sometime off for a while and the minute I sat down this chapter spat out of my fingers. It's a step forward to Nitchie but not quiet. Many thanks to Aly, who suffered to read this and Kendra who is on the other side of the world but still gave me her wonderful input.

But mostly, Thanks to everybody who has reviewed and read this. You wouldn't imagine that I had no real expectations for this fic and all your feedback has pushed it this far.

ENJOY!

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Life Sucks

Chapter TWELVE: Give Love a Try

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"I'm glad you came Mitchie." Nate beamed, holding the door to a very small shop for me.

I kicked a small pebble with my shy leg. I felt ridiculous in my disguise. I thought singing with Shane was bad enough but I would gladly take the stage and pretend to be love sick for him than to wear this something I would honestly never touch. This morning I found my face flashing on tv. Thankfully it wasn't some gossip juice (Peggy says it's too early for that) but Nate insisted I start taking measures. I would have refused if he hadn't started with his "you need to take some responsibility" speech. Having him talk and talk and talk and talk and talk drove me to this terrible trucker hat and sunglasses.

It was soo stupid and overused that I couldn't imagine a Connect Three fan walking by right now and NOT recognize Nate. As if a cap was really going to hide those curls. Psh. I gripped on to my oversized bag and stomped in, mad at myself for giving in to this. And if you're wondering what's inside the bag, (and I know you are) it's none of your business. But you should be suspicious because I've never carried a purse or bag in my life, not one in this size.

Nate took off his sunglasses and greeted the shop owner, a very inked, very flirty, and very girly shop owner. I stared her down and crossed my arms, taking a look around. Psh. The whole shop was nearly dominated by Fenders. We were better off making a guitar out of a kleenex box and rubber bands.

"Dixie." The girl stuck out her hand so I could shake.

"Mitchie." I muttered, slipping my hand in hers and retracting it away as if she was poison.

"So what's the occasion?" Dixie, the cup, piped up.

Nate looked at me, "My Malinda Gibson had a little accident."

I snorted. He talks like if the instrument was a real person. Malinda Gibson. How generic.

Dixie mirrored Nate. Her eyes quickly flickered to me and then back to Nate.

"I could fix it up in a flash." Dixie looked hopeful. Too hopeful for my liking.

Nate looked at me again and I wanted to punch him. Another look and I'll call the media to announce that Nate was in depression because his guitar was resting in pieces... get it? Resting in pieces? R.I.P? Ahh, I love my humor.

"Actually, I'm here to look for a new guitar. Malinda was force into retirement." Nate held back a frown, "But it looks like you're all out of Gibsons."

Dixie nodded and looked at the full display of Fender guitars, "Well, you could hang around and play some of the acoustic guitars we have. See if you like any. If not, well I have some Ibanez in the back. Exactly what happen to Malinda?'

Nate stole another glance at me, which didn't make me any happier, but shrugged it off. Dixie eyed me before answering a phone call, leaving Nate and I to ourselves to explore. Nate didn't waste a second. I clung to my bag, watching Nate reach out for the first instrument in his reach.

So maybe this is the perfect time to reveal that I got Nate something to make up for his great loss. Besides the guitar that I was...umm, tricked into buying, I got him something that makes me feel loads better about ramming my foot into his piece of wood. I'm not even sure if I want to give this certain item to Nate now. The sudden grip of nerves that is slowly paralyzing my body isn't exactly the condition I expected. If I'm nervous that must mean I shouldn't. Sure, I might have bought it for him BUT since I got rid of the guilt, what's the point in actually giving him the item?

Who am I kidding?

I flopped next to Nate who was already trying out his fifth guitar. He paid no attention to me and my pathetic struggle. As time flew by, a couple of customers came in and out (never recognizing us) and we crawled to the back of the shop, where the light was dim and was overly crowded by old used boxes and littered by broken guitar picks. Nate, the boy who always tried to figure me out, was too occupied with finding a new guitar that he hasn't notice that I was fighting with myself, figuring if I should hand over another gift.

"Aren't you going to ask why I'm not judging every guitar you pick up?" I spit out.

Nate finally looked up at me, his face shining.

"Do you want me to?" He asked.

I stiffly shook my head and looked down at my feet. I felt like an idiot. I can manage a friendship with Nate. I can be friends. All I need to do is pretend I never realized he likes me. I'm already imputing the unnecessary awkward-ness, I can't ruin this- I already ruined his Malinda Gibson, I strongly believe I have the potential to reek havoc on ALL his prized instruments without intending to.

I cleared my throat, "I have something for you."

I felt the rush of warmth to my face as Nate cast a look of confusion to me. I then added a girlish giggle, which is very unlike me. I sicken myself. After this is over I might need to use a bucket to vomit in. I opened my bag and gazed at the object crudely covered in a bright blue wrap with white birthday candles.

It's the only wrapping paper I found laying around my apartment.

Anyways, I handed over the gift to Nate who was grinning from ear to ear.

"It's not my birthday." He joked.

"Just open it." I urged.

Wrapping paper was in the air in bit's of pieces, like snow falling gently. When the air cleared Nate was staring at a couple of picture frames. He didn't say anything for quite sometime so a nervous impulse jolted.

"Surprise..." I lamely said, wiggling my fingers like a unenthusiastic cheerleader.

"Umm, thanks." He muttered.

I sighed and pulled out a hammer from my bag and shoved the tool in his lap. If he wasn't confused before, Nate was now more than ever. He knitted his brows together trying to study me. I'm guessing he was trying to figure out if this was an insult or a genuine gift. And if you doubt me, it is a pretty genuine gift if I say so myself. It just needs explanation.

"I thought since I wreaked something of yours, it would be fair if you wreak something of mine." I sighed, "Some of those frames are my favorites so please get on with it. I got you the hammer because, personally, I don't think you're very creative. I could see you throwing my frames across the room but it would be much better if you could stomp on them or better yet... use the hammer."

Another extended silence loomed until Nate began to laugh. He wiped his eyes and gripped on to his stomach was his laugh became louder. I stood there unaware of what to do so I nervously joined him in his laughter.

"Haa ha." I shifted my eyes, "Aren't I something..."

"Before I destroy your frames-"

I felt a slight disappointment. Although I did tell Nate to break my frames, I thought he was going to decline and take the high road. I hate that I just set myself for disaster.

"-I told you I have a song I want you to listen to. Sit down." He pointed to the stacked of flatten boxes. Not wanting to argue, I sat down and put my empty bag down to my feet. "I'm not sure if you'll remember but... umm, never mind forget I said that. Ahem."

Nate look at his hand placement on the neck of the guitar and began to lightly pluck the strings. As much as I don't like Fenders, I have to admit that one in particular is, dare I say, a big improvement.

"You, you like driving on a Sunday,
You, you like taking off on Monday,
You, you're like a dream, A dream come true

I, was just a face you never noticed,
Now, I'm just trying to be honest,
With myself, with you, with the world

You might think that
I'm a fool, for falling
over you,
So tell me what can I do to prove to you,
That is not so hard to do

Give love a try, one more time
Cause you know I'm on you're side,
Give love a try, one more time"

One thing I posses is fantastic memory. So while Nate finished off his song, my mind flashed back to our first decent conversation.

"So what do you do on your days off?" Nate took the pleasure to sink into my couch.

"Sunday?" I said, "I like to drive."

Nate bit his lip, "What about Monday?"

"You know what I do on Monday." I scolded him for having such a bad memory.

Nate nodded, "Before you signed, what did you do?"

I cocked my head to the side, "I usually took off on Monday when I didn't have work. Gosh, I loved window shopping but I learned to restrain myself. I've been itching to go and buy some frames but I just can't."

"So, what do you think?" Nate flashed me a smile.

I gulped and nodded, "The guitar is really great. I can't believe there's a Fender that can out play a Gibson but then again Malinda wasn't much of a Gibson."

"I meant the song." Nate bit on his lip, a shadow of vulnerability on his face, "It's really rough but I can see where you're coming from. The sound of this guitar is much better than Malinda. I didn't think I could make the song better by switching."

I nervously laughed, "Ha, well you have to thank me for that."

"So?"

"So what?" I glanced at his brown eyes.

"The song?"

I blushed and stared at my twisting feet, "Umm, amazing."

I don't know what pained me more: To tell Nate his song was great (which is was) or to assume that I was the muse for it's creation. The image of Nate on a white horse galloping towards my helpless state atop a tower terrified me to no end. Nate waved Dixie over and motioned the guitar. Dixie gladly put the phone down and tended to Nate's needs. I rummaged through my bag to take out my spanking new credit card when Nate caught my arm and shook his head.

"You're not paying for it. I'm just glad you came along." He bore into my eyes and I glanced away, throwing in those dreadful giggles.

"It's no problem, It was my fault. Really, I should pay." I moved towards my bag again but Nate beat me to the punch and handed his own black shiny card to Dixie, who was curiously studying us.

"How am I going to pay you back?" I whined.

Nate winked and took out the frames from behind his back, "You and me, after rehearsal."

---

I was on a mission to make Shane miserable. The duet was coming along fine. I don't want to sound stuck up but I sounded amazing. Shane wasn't that bad but the moment we were singing together, all the spirit of the song was lost. It was frustrating. Nate resorted to play drums although his every intention was itching to play his brand new guitar. He wasn't happy about it but he was enjoying having me make everything difficult and as hard it is to digest it, I think he was looking forward to the end of this torture. Can you imagine that?

Nate loves rehearsals.

Anyways, this 'mission' of making this rehearsal absolutely bad wasn't that hard. See working with Shane isn't that easy. I'm not sure why every time he flips his hair out of his eyes I twitch. I'm not trying to make it bad at all, it just happens. So while Peggy was asking us to sing the very last verse together again, I decided to input my idea's into this lame performance.

"How about we sing this in Spanish?" I suggested producing a snort from the drum set.

Shane frowned, "You know I can't speak Spanish."

"Stop it!" A shriek came from sweet Peggy who looked like she was about to explode. I don't blame her. Shane was getting annoying. "Mitchie would you try to at least make this work?"

"Fine." I hissed out.

I faced Shane as the music swelled up to his entrance.

"You're the voice I hear inside my head
The reason that I'm singing
I need to find you, I gotta find you
You're the missing piece I need
The song inside of me
I need to find you, I gotta find you."

I inhaled a deep breath just about to belt out the next verse when the music slowly began to disintegrate. The drop of drums stick on the cymbals and the slight feedback of the speakers stopped me from singing. I turned to find Nate huddled in a ball and Jason turning red. Peggy was storming up on stage, with a murderous look on her face. I held my hands up innocently. For once, I wasn't the one who was making rehearsals difficult.

"You can't be serious!" Peggy yelled, "Jason hand that over!"

Jason scarlet complexion faded a bit, "I don't have anything!"

"Then why did you reach behind your guitar? What do you have in your pocket? It has to be important enough to let a huge gap between-"

"My fly was down! 'Kay!" Jason yelled back, losing his dignity with every word.

Peggy looked just as embarrassed as Jason was.

"Sorry, umm resume." Peggy straightened up and marched off the stage.

Shane walked up to me, a little too close for my taste, and began telling me his big plan.

"Listen, I know it's a tough rehearsal just please work with me. I'm trying my best and if we want to make Peg's happy and make this convincing to the public you're going to have to do more than just sing. So suck it up. Pretend you're singing to... I don't know Brad Pitt or-"

"Nate, quit twirling your drum stick." Peggy shouted.

I looked over to Nate who dropped yet another drum stick, in shock that Peggy was now ganging up on him. He quickly scooped up his stick and forced a smile at me before carefully eying Shane.

"My point is, as co-workers, I don't want you to look back and I hope you don't want us to look bad." Shane finished.

I scowled, "Fine."

Cue the music. I gripped on to my mic and tried to force myself back to Camp Rock to that stage where I poured myself out to the audience and hoped to make Shane that it was possibly me all along. Shane began to sing his bit again and for performance purposes I glued myself to him as he sang down to me. I threw a smirk at him.

Okay, soooooo it wasn't that bad. But it did give me the impression that I'll want to scrub myself raw when I take a shower afterward. When my part came in, our voices weaved in and out in perfect harmony. For a second I thought the drum beat faltered but before I completely registered the flaw I looked back at Nate who was rocking out in his corner. Maybe it was just me. The music faded and Peggy yelled out once more.

"THAT WAS PERFECT!" She squealed, "What do you think Caitlyn?"

I looked around for a tiny brunette. Caitlyn can't possibly be here.

"I felt like I was back at camp." Caitlyn gushed, in a surprising proximity. She was on stage next to Jason and making her way towards me. She patted my back and grinned, "How's that for a performance? Oh Nate, don't think we didn't notice 'cause we did."

Nate frowned but he sent a weary smile at me and shrugged as if to say, "Can you really blame me?"

"But," Peggy shouted again to gain our attention, "Even if you two finally got it, don't think I'm not nervous. It took nearly all of our time to get it right and you only have one shot to get it right. Thank God we have one more rehearsal left be please don't lose what we just worked for. Got it?"

Shane and I nodded, a bit breathless from the singing. I took a swig from my water bottle as Nate approached me.

"We're still going to hang out, right?" He asked.

Still drinking, I nodded. Nate, with a new boost of confidence jumped off the stage and disappeared. Caitlyn bumped into me with her shoulder. Her arms were crossed in that "I told you so" manner and I frowned.

"It's not what you think." I sighed, "He's going to come and smash some of my frames."

Caitlyn's eye brow rose, "Really. So you like him enough to let him have a go at your frames?"

"I know what you're getting at and no. It's not like that." I shook my head.

"I duuunnnooo." Caitlyn shrugged, "I'm thinking that Nate was a bit distracted when he messed up. Could it be that it bothered him that you and Shane are on better terms now?"

I scoffed, "Shane and I are not on better terms."

Just then, Shane strolled along and grabbed my hand to force me to give him a high five.

"Great job, Mitch. See ya tomorrow!" Shane pointed at me as he continued to walk out.

I sputtered to come up with a good excuse but I sounded like a bad train engine.

"Psh, Shane? Pft, -scoff- shyeah, right. Psh, what are ya getting at?" I pieced together.

Jason strolled along and hung his arm around Caitlyn's shoulder, "Did he sing to you already?"

I could feel my lips form a tight line just before I stormed off stage and gave them the finger. There's nothing going on. Just cause Nate's the weak one here doesn't mean he's contagious and I'll get whatever he's suffering from.

No. Way.

I stomped my way out only to be joined by Nate.

"I won't ask." He said, once he saw me fuming. He held the door open and we both poured out to the streets.

---

Things didn't get any better back at my apartment. Nate began smashing my frames, much to my pain, and the idiot managed to cut himself with the fragments of glass. There was a disgusting gash on his left pinky that I was holding under the tap was he bled freely into the sink and not on my floor. I wasn't happy. Everything surrounding Nate was getting harder to figure out.

My friends think something's up with me.

They tease me.

Nate doesn't know I know...

And to top it off, I have to perform with Shane and if Caitlyn was right, then Nate must have been extremely uncomfortable. But who am I kidding, I say it like if Nate was devotedly in love with me. Ha. What if I'm blowing all this out of proportion?

So what if he likes me? It could just be that I'm misreading things OR, or that it's possibly a small crush.

While I was deep in thought I failed to notice how close Nate and I were standing. Both of my hands were holding Nate's pinky under the running water while he stood behind, watching me in amusement. I could feel his warm breath on the back of my neck. I turned the faucet and reached for a paper towel for Nate's cut. He still kept his eyes on me.

"What?" I said, making myself smaller under his gaze.

"What are you thinking about?" Nate wrapped his pinky with the paper towel until his finger resembled a marshmallow on a stick, "What are you worrying over? If it's the morning show, you umm did really good today."

I sourly smiled, the morning show was the least of my problems.

"Yeah, the morning show." I repeated, "That's what I'm thinking about."

"Hey, if you're album bombs in sales and you turn out to be a horrible artist, might I suggest a career in nursing?" Nate lifted his poorly bandaged pinky, "You mended me back to divine health."

And I knew he was just handing out compliments to make me feel better but oddly enough it just made me feel worse because it was just more clues that further confirms what I don't want to accept.

"Nate-"

"Hey how about we watch some tv?" He interrupted, "I think we've had too much fun for a day."

I closed my eyes, "Sure."

I walked to my living room where Nate proceeded to turn the tv on. We both slowly sat on my dingy couch and glued our sight to the music video that, funny enough, belonged to Connect Three. Nate made a face and reached for the remote. This time I caught his arm and held it.

"Wait, I want to watch this." I grinned at the tv. It was one of their earlier music and it was a sight to see.

"It's just a bunch of nonsense really. I'm sure you can watch it later." Nate swatted my hand away, grabbing the remote and flipped through my five channels. It looped around and soon enough his face was back on the screen. I laughed.

"Seriously, let me hear this part. The guitar solo is great. Some of your old stuff is pretty good if you look past the whiny voices and Shane flipping his hair every five seconds." I honestly said.

Nate laughed, "Your compliments are one of a kind, you know that?"

He turned off the tv and the screen blanked to black. I looked at him, bewildered that he cut off the best part of the solo. He whipped out his guitar, which honestly appeared out of thin air and began to play the rest of the guitar solo. And in that moment, I felt my eyelids drop just as the solo slowly turned into that song that he sang earlier that day. Did it terrify me that someone might actually fallen for me?

Yes, but because I fear that they might have to go through unnecessary pain for a lost cause.

If I knew this before we actually became friends, I would have cut Nate off in the most cruel and clean way I could have thought of. Now, things were much different. Ugh, I actually care for him. In a friend way, don't get carried away. I couldn't possibly hurt him now. I wouldn't want Nate to think I'm some heartless girl (although, after all I put him through, he might already think that).

I felt my body lean against him and a new thought shot through my tired mind.

Is there a chance that I might not realize that... there's something between us that I refuse to see?

I rolled my eyes behind my lids.

Nate and I?

Isn't that a laugh.

---

Just breaking Mitchie in but I'm having too much fun torturing her. I promise by next chapter thing will start rolling. And if anybody can guess what might happen in the next chapter, I'll DocX a sneak peak of the next chapter. How's that for a prize? Thank you once more!

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