Disclaimer: I so own Camp Rock. Totally. It's crazy, the things I dream at night...
Mitchie had taken Katie with her to the Open Mike Jam, leaving me by myself in the cabin, trying to come up with a suitable lesson plan. I had a list of what Brown wanted me to cover, including a sing-off at the end of camp. You'd think a high-school teacher would have no problem with this, but I couldn't figure out what order to put things in. The other instructor had failed to show up yet, though I had figured out that they were male. Knowing my luck, it would be Shane.
I dropped the pen I was using on the bed and rubbed my upper arms- something my parents had noticed I did when I talked or thought about Shane. I could hear the beat of whatever song was playing all the way from where I sat, and it was slowly driving me nuts. I pulled out my iPod from my bag and pressed play. The majority of the songs were actually recordings of either Mitchie or myself singing some of our favorite songs, including ones I had written. Some of the songs were even from wen I was about 18.
There's a song that's inside of my soul
It's the one that I've tried
To write over and over again
I'm awake in the infinte cold
As you sing to me
Over and over and over again
I recognized the first song easily. I had written it about a month after Joe and I had first started dating. We'd been in college for about a year, and one night he showed up outside my dorm window with a guitar, a cheesy love song he'd heard on the radio, and a handful of pebbles. The only flaw in his plan was that he was throwing the pebbles too far to the right, and ended up hitting the window of the next room over.
So I lay my head back down
And I lift my hands and pray
To be only yours
I pray to be only yours
I know now, you're my only hope
I flipped to the next song, the memories too painful to handle right now, and found that the next song wasn't much better. I tried to tune it out, but when it came to the chorus, I found that I couldn't ignore it.
Don't say you're sorry
'Cause I'm not even breaking
I knew better than to let you break my heart
This soul you're never see again
Won't be showin' scars
You still love her, I can see it in your eyes
The truth is all that I can hear
Every time you lie
I yanked the headphones out of my ears, and threw my iPod across the room, thoroughly annoyed at my disastrous love life. And at the songs I'd written about it that my iPod decided to play.
That song had been the one I'd written a week after Shane left. He'd announced that he and Demi Lovato were dating, even though we'd never "officially" broken up. He'd also said that I was just a fan he'd hung out with for a day. Not even an old friend from before he was famous, and certainly not a girlfriend. I was just a fan. I knew it should have hurt me, but it didn't. Not one bit. It just made me furious at him. So I'd written a song about it. It could be about any break up, really, but only Shane would hear the message meant just for him if he ever heard it.
The cabin door opened as the iPod went flying past, hit the opposite wall, and crashed to the ground. The man standing there standing in the doorway looked bewildered and almost dropped the suitcase he was was holding, and I jumped up quickly.
"Easy there, killer," he joked, stepping into the room. He looked to be around my age, and had thick, curly black hair. His smile seemed to tease me.
"I am so sorry," I apologized quickly, crossing to where he stood. "I had no idea you were there!"
"That's okay. I'm Barron," he aid, sticking out his hand.
"Michelle," I said, shaking his hand. "I'm the new voice instructor."
"Well, it's very nice to meet you." I heard two sets of footsteps coming up the steps, and Barron barely managed to jump out of the way as my daughters threw the door open. Mitchie was half-dragging Katie behind her, and I could see that Katie could barely keep her eyes open. Barron looked curiously at me, and I smiled and picked Katie up.
"My daughters," I explained. Mitchie headed back to her cabin after a quick good night as I laid Katie down on the bed next to mine. Barron and I exchanged stories as we got ready for bed. I learned that he was a year older than Shane, and he had a wife and a ten-year-old son back in New Hampshire. Barron had come here every summer since he was 13, and he'd becom a dance instructor here the summer he turned 19.
"I've been instructing dance here for eighteen years," he said as we sat down on our beds. "But now Brown's made Shane Gray the dance instructor this year, and I'm just and assistant." I felt bad for him; he was another person who's summer had been ruined because of Shane Gray.
"That sucks, I'm sorry." Barron waved it off and reached for the light switch. The lights snapped off, and I laid back in my bed, unable to keep my thoughts from drifting to Shane. The last time I'd seen him, he couldn't remember my name, much less who I was, after just five years in Hollywood. Now, I haven't seen the egghead in twenty years, and he not only remembers me, but he recognized me. When I compare potos of me from when I was sixteen, and now, I barely recognize myself.
I sighed and rolled onto my side, too exhausted to think about it anymore. I'd had a long day, and tomorrow was going to be even longer.
I really don't like the way this chapter ended, so I'm going to try to put up another chapter today.