Sorry I haven't updated in a while. I got really sick and barely had time for homework, let alone typing my stories. This chapter is from Shane's POV and it's a lot longer than the others. I spent major procrastination time on this, lol. I like this chapter, for once. My friend helped me type it and she'd help me revise my sentences, so it should be good. I hope. Anyways, please enjoy!

Disclaimer: I could only wish to own Camp Rock. But then again, I doubt they would let a 14 year old own Camp Rock, don't you think?

"Mitchie, where are you…" I muttered, my leg bouncing up and down, showing my impatience. I had good reason to be impatient. Mitchie said she'd be here by 8 tops and it was now just about midnight. She said she had to talk to Nate about something real quick, then she'd zip over to my house. I lived about 5 houses down from Nate, so it wouldn't be that hard for her to just walk over when she's done. What if…what if her and Nate are…doing stuff…more than friends stuff…

No.

I know Mitchie and I know Nate. They would never intentionally cheat or help someone cheat. Maybe she had to go home…for something. Yeah, let's go with that.

I sigh and lie down on my bed, staring at my ceiling. I do this a lot. Time to think is very much valued to me. And boy, did I have a lot to think about.

As I said before, I know Nate. We've been best friends since preschool. Probably before then. We always had each other's backs and knew everything about each other. Too bad for Nate, I know him too well.

He's in love with Mitchie.

Any other guy would probably threaten him, or beat him up, but he's my best bud. I've known him much longer than I've known Mitchie. With Mitchie, I don't know if she's just for now, but Nate's going to be there for me forever.

But he loves my girlfriend.

I shake my head, trying to shake off the thoughts. Nate would never steal her from me. We made a pact in seventh grade, we weren't going to steal each other's girlfriends. Nate would never break it.

I think.

I groan and turn over to my side. Mitchie's right, I think too much. She's told me that on many occasions. But I can't help it.

My eyebrows pull together when I hear sirens from down the street. What the hell?

I get up and look out my window. It was dark out, but the sky was illuminated by a full moon. A full moon.

I shiver.

"What's going on?" I mutter under my breath, seeing the red and white lights coming down my street. I hope they were just passing through. But it's a dead end…

I run downstairs, to the front door to watch as the ambulance passes my house in a hurry. I crane my head as it goes one, two, three, four…five houses down.

Nate's house.

I freeze. My mind's working in overdrive. What could this mean? Either a) Nate prank-called 911, or b)someone is genuinely hurt. Oh God, if there was ever a time for Nate to be a stupid teenager, let it be now.

I see them park in his driveway and run into the house. By this time, I'm standing on my lawn, my heart racing. I'm steadily walking towards Nate's house, watching as the lights turn on. I see the paramedics inside, rushing upstairs. I'm four houses away now. They disappear from my view. Three houses.

Two houses.

Then, I see them carrying a white sheet-covered body outside.

A body.

My stomach lurches. My legs are shaking horribly but I keep walking. I'm next door now. Nate's parents stumble out of the house. The paramedics open up the back of the ambulance and wheel it in somberly. It. Nate.

He's…de-de…I can't even think it.

My wide eyes then turn to Nate's parents. They are standing to the side, holding onto each other for dear life. They look so shaken, depressed, scared.

Just like me.

I walk up to them, my steps shaky. The moment they see me, they open their arms for me to join in. We all hug, shaking, crying for Nate.

After a few minutes, someone comes up to us, breaking our hug apart. They inform us that they needed someone to come to the hospital with them. Mr. and Mrs. Tucker look at each other, then look at me.

"Shane, so-son," Mr. Tucker stutters when he says son. He just lost his only one. "We're both going to go, will you be okay alone?"

I can only nod, my throat too thick for any words to come through. They weakly smile at me (more like grimace, but I understand what they mean) and walk into the ambulance. Before they pull away, I swear I hear Mrs. Tucker wailing inside.

I gulp and look at Nate's house. The front door is wide open, almost begging me to come in. As I walk through the door, memories of me and Nate flying through it, pretending to be superheroes, or walking in, throwing our bags on the ground right after school bombard me. Never again will that happen.

I breathe in deep breaths before I look up to see the stairs. They curl around the wall, letting you off 90 degrees from the starting point. It was especially fun when you slid down them, having to turn and all that. But Nate can't enjoy that again…

Stop it. I can't think of that, I won't think of that. I walk upstairs slowly, one foot on each step. Once I'm upstairs, I look down the hall. Nate's door is broken open.

I gulp.

I walk towards his room, the house eerily quiet. The room is dark when I peak into it. I take a step inside and smell something horrible. Something you'd expect to smell if you were in a horror movie. If I were to guess what it was, I'd say…blood.

I shiver again.

I hesitantly turn on his lights. The room illuminates, showing me the horrific scene.

The blood. Oh god, the blood.

It was all over his sheets. I could barely distinguish the original color, it was all red. Deep red. Some of it was slowly dripping onto the floor.

"Holy shit," I whisper, frozen where I stood. What the hell did Nate do! My eyes look around his room, landing on the knife on his night stand.

I squeeze my eyes shut, wanting this all to be a dream. Wanting to go back to when Nate and I would just kid around. Back to any time Nate was with me. Actually, we haven't hung out lately.

And now we never will.

I start violently shaking as I realize my best friend is gone. He's gone. Never coming back.

Oh my God.

I grip his desk to keep me from falling. That's when I see it. Nate's journal.

I stare at it, contemplating on if I should read it or not. I don't know if I can handle seeing what he wrote. Once I read it, it'll be etched into my memory, and it's gonna drive me crazy. But…I need to see what he's been thinking these past few days…or weeks. I don't know how long this has been going on. All that I know is that I'm probably a cause.

Along with Mitchie.

I feel my self-esteem go down with each thought. I drove my friend to kill himself. I'm a murderer.

I quickly dispel that thought. Now is not the time to play the blame game. I take a breath and pick up his journal.

I open the first page. It's dated 2 years ago, when he first got it.

Hey, so, this is my journal. Yep…So, my name's Nate, I'm 15, blah blah blah. My grandma got this for me for Christmas and she insisted that I start writing in it right now. She's staring at me, making sure she didn't waste her money. I could just write a bunch of shit, it's not like she can read this anyways. Blind old bat. Yeah…now she's glaring at me 'cause I don't know what to write. Yes, it's time for dinner. Well, I doubt I'll write to you again, unless she makes me write again after dinner. Oh, the joys of Christmas.

The next entry was dated a month later.

Wow, I can't believe me, a dude, is actually writing in this 'diary'. Ha, as if I'd call it that. No, this is my journal, it sounds more manly. Well, as manly as a journal can be. My parents do call me sensitive…whatever the hell that means. So, what I really wanted to talk about was Mitchie. My sociology teacher said it's good to let your feelings out in a healthy way, so I'm just gonna write it out. You see, I really like Mitchie. I met her four years ago and got this huge crush on her. The only thing is she doesn't seem to like me, at least not in the way I like her. She's perfect though. Perfect for me.

I look through the pages, each one seeming to contain Mitchie's name. My heart sunk. He really did love her. As much as me? I don't know, but he did love her. I skip to the last page. It's dated today. I gulp and start reading.

Mitchie came today. She broke my heart. No, that's not right. She ripped it out, shredded it, set it on fire and laughed in my face about it. At least that's what it feels like she did. She totally blew me off when I told her I loved her. When I said we belong together. She just said she had to go and left without a single glance. I can't do this anymore. It hurts too much.

To anyone that's reading this, I'm sorry.

And that's it. I don't realize I'm crying until I see the drops falling onto the page. I close the book and carefully lay it on his desk. That was too much.

So I did cause his death.

How should I feel? I know I didn't literally kill him, but it feels like it. I shouldn't have asked Mitchie out, I knew Nate liked her. But he never made a move, so I thought it was just a silly crush.

What have I done?

I sit back in his chair and close my eyes, my thoughts running wild.

The next thing I know, sunlight is pouring through Nate's window. I suddenly wake, sitting up in the chair. Where am I? Then I remember.

I'm in Nate's house.

Nate's gone.

I feel a tug in my heart, but I ignore it. I get up and head to Nate's door. Before I go out, I take one last glance at his room.

The bed is still red.

I shudder and continue my way out of his house. I numbly walk to my house, going across our neighbor's lawns. I just want to get home now. Maybe everything will be okay when I get home.

Once I get inside, I go straight to my room. What do I do now? I stand for a few minutes in a daze. I still can't believe this is happening. I spot my cell phone and I reach out for it. I look through my contacts, stopping at Mitchie. Yeah, I'll give her a call. I almost press the call button when I look at the name under hers. Nate.

I start trembling but press call anyways. I have to tell her.

It rings a few times before she actually answers.

"Hey, honey," she almost yawns into the phone, trying to sound cheery. That means she just woke up. That just makes my job so much easier.

"M-mitchie," I say, my voice thick with emotion. I can't stop thinking about how Nate's number was under Mitchie's. I'll never be able to call that number again…

"What's wrong, Shane?" Mitchie questions me, genuine concern in her voice. I have to say it.

"I-it's Nate. He's gone." I close my eyes and rub them, wanting all of this to go away.

"What? Oh, well, if you're looking for him, he's coming over-" What the hell is she talking about?

"No, Nate's dead." Wow, I can't believe how harsh that came out.

She's quiet for a moment. "N-no, h-he can't b-be d-dead," Mitchie stutters.

I sigh. "He committed suicide. Slit his wrists," I inform her, rubbing my face with my hand.

Mitchie doesn't answer me, but I can hear her labored breathing. According to what Nate's last entry said, she knew he loved her, but she blew him off. She must feel as guilty as I do.

Nate's dead…because of us.

I got the idea of Shane blaming himself from True Blood. The first season was playing this weekend and (sorry if I'm spoiling it) when Sookie's grandmother is killed, everyone blamed her. I thought how terrible it would be to be blamed for someone's death, and decided to add some of that in this chapter. However, it's gonna be a lot worse in the next one. ;)

I might only do one more chapter, I'll decide the next time I update. Another reason I might not update as much is because I'm also typing two other stories at the same time. They're called Poor Unfortunate Souls and Don't Forget. Check them out if you haven't already. :D

Speaking of stories to check out, if you didn't read the prequels to this, please do! I use direct quotes from them, like the phone conversation between Mitchie and Shane is exactally how I explained it in How to Save a Life. I had to go back to that story so I could get the words right.

Please review! It only takes like 30 seconds, I don't really care what you say, just tell me if you liked it or not. Feedback is good!

PS: It's weird writing in present tense. I have to keep reminding myself it's 'I say' instead of 'I said' or something ot the like.