Push - Chapter Seven
Title: Push
Fandom: Camp Rock
Genre: Alternate Universe Drama/Literary Fiction
Rating: PG-13, maybe higher (for language, implied violence and intense/ possibly scary situations)
Information: Most performers can’t fathom not performing, no matter what demons may stand in their way. Sometimes they just need a little push.
PREVIOUS CHAPTER: http://leftygirl02.livejournal.com/178349.html
“Well, he certainly seems like a nice boy,” Connie commented towards her eldest daughter as they began the clean up from lunch. Shane was busy in the back doing something or another; Jake could care less so long as he was out of ear-shot.
“That’s because you’ve spent less than five minutes with him,” Jake replied.
“Oh honey, don’t say that.”
“Mom, I did tell you about the girl with the bag of trash, right?”
“More than once, yes.” Connie began fixing two separate plates from the food left over from lunch. “Mustard?”
“Yes please.” Jake watched her mother squirt the yellow condiment on her burger before continuing. “He’s just so arrogant and disrespectful and…”
Her mother just shot her a look which meant for her to stop. “You know first impressions aren’t everything. You can’t tell what someone is like just from one meeting.”
“Well you can get a good gauge.”
“Yes, but sometimes it’s not always the whole truth.”
Jake rolled her eyes. “Mom, we’re not in a Disney movie. Shane Gray’s not some handsome prince under an enchanted spell who is going to miraculously change overnight.”
“Did I say he would?” Connie asked. “All I’m telling you is to keep an open mind about him. That’s what I’ve always asked of you girls in regards to people. Musicians included.”
Jake stayed quiet.
“And you never know,” Connie continued. “When I first met your father, I thought he was just a…”
“Oh, ew!” Jake held up her hand to silence her mother. “Stop; please, don’t go there.”
Connie merely smiled and reached over to fix a strand of Jake’s hair which had fallen out of her ponytail. “Might as well be pleasant, right? We still have a few hours left to work.”
“Don’t remind me.” Jake looked down at the plate of food her mom was offering. “Could you save that for me? I’m going to go start on the dishes.”
“You feeling okay?”
“Yeah. I’m just going to finish the dishes first.” She headed towards the back, being sure to grab the bright red plastic apron as she did. Trust her mom to make light of any situation. Jake began putting what remained of the lunch prep dishes onto a rack. A tune came to her head; Jake hummed along for a few moments.
“Hello muddah, hello faddah, here I am at Camp Grenada…”
The voice made her stop immediately. That wasn’t her singing. Jake turned quickly to find Shane standing behind her, plate in hand. In her shock she spat out, “Where’d you come from?”
He blinked yet didn’t hesitate. “New Jersey. Well actually Arizona, but haven’t lived there since I was two. You?”
“Indiana. Rochester, to be exact,” she answered instinctually. “But we moved to Dallas when I was a year old, so I don’t remember it at all.”
He nodded as if actually listening then folded her arms. “Dallas, huh?”
“That’s what I said.” Why did he care that she’d said Dallas?
“How old are you?”
“Eighteen. I’ll be nineteen in August.”
“I wouldn’t have guessed that.”
She got that reaction a lot. Jake folded her arms as well. “Why’d you want to know?”
“Just curious.”
“Well-“ She didn’t have a response to that. Instead, she sputtered. “Well… just how old are you?”
“I’ll be nineteen in August as well.”
“Are you mocking me?” Jake asked after a pause, narrowing her eyebrows. It was impossible to tell if he was telling her the truth based on the look he was giving her.
Shane just shrugged. “August 15; look it up if you don’t believe me.”
Look it up? Jake scoffed upon realizing just what he had meant. “I’d rather not, thanks.”
He shrugged again. “So, ‘Camp Granada’ eh? Wouldn’t have pegged that.”
“It was on a tape my parents always had in the car. What’s wrong with it?” she responded quickly.
“Nothing. I think it perfectly conveys this place,” was the response.
She almost had to laugh, yet quickly covered it by coughing. There was silence a moment. Then Jake did what she always did when she was nervous; she rambled. “But Broadway’s my favorite. You know, ‘Guys and Dolls’; stuff like that…‘Sit down, sit down, sit down, sit down… sit down, you’re rocking the boat’; all that.”
Maybe it was just her imagination, but his face seemed to change upon watching her impromptu song-and-arm-flaring moment. The look he gave her almost seemed pleasant, the chuckle more sincere. Jake felt her cheeks flush a bit. She decided to continue.
“But yeah… stuff like tha-“ Jake suddenly stopped herself. “Wait, are we actually having a conversation here?”
“Well…” That cocky grin of his returned, although somehow it seemed less intense. “Now that you mention it, not anymore. Don’t want to ruin my image or nothing.”
His image? She might have scoffed at him, except for the tone in his voice. Instead she grabbed the plate from his hand. “Right, well, here; I’ll take your plate then. You… go do something constructive or… something.”
Jake turned around to face the sink again. She heard Shane shuffling out behind her. As she placed the plate and other remaining dishes on the racks, she thought she heard a male’s voice singing, ‘Take me home, oh muddah, father…’ But she wasn’t really sure. The dishwasher was awfully loud, after all. Voices became audible in the kitchen, followed by what sounded like the door being opened then closed again. Odd. Dropping the dishes Jake headed to the kitchen area again. “Mom?”
“In-coming!” Jake had no time to react as something came flying through the air right at her. It smacked her between her eyes, which were thankfully closed, and bounced off again. She opened her eyes slowly to find Shane sitting on the counter looking smug.
“Opps; missed the can,” he said with a shrug.
Jake just stood still in shock a moment before speaking. She picked up the small plastic ball of clear wrapping from the floor and held it for him to see. “What did… why… you threw saran wrap at me?”
“No, at the trash can.”
“The trash can is nowhere near me!”
“I have horrible aim.”
“Why did you do that? You think it was funny?”
He let out a chuckle. “Hilarious.”
Jake’s mouth began to hang open as she shook her head. “What were you doing in here anyway? Where’s Mom?”
“Eating downstairs.”
“And what were you doing?”
He shrugged again then swung his legs. Jake’s eyes narrowed, yet she decided not to say anything. It wasn’t worth the effort anymore. Her stomach growled reminding her of the plate her mom had fixed for her. Maybe she should eat it now, if only to get away from him. That was when she noticed it.
“Wait, where’d my food go?” He blinked, prompting her to repeat. “My food; where is it?”
“What food?” he asked innocently.
“The plate of food that was right here.” She motioned to the counter. Despite keeping a stoic face Shane squirmed. “You. What did you do with it?”
Perhaps it was just in her mind, yet a brief flash of guilt flickered in his face before he shrugged. “I threw it away. Thought it was trash.”
“You what?” Her voice cracked slightly in disbelief as she finished the sentence.
“Should have actually eaten it instead of letting it sit out here.”
Jake’s mind began to reel. Of all the low, dirty things to do… Perhaps had it been the only incident of the day she wouldn’t have been so angry. Yet not right now; right now she was pissed. “How could you do that? That was my lunch! And you threw it out!”
“Hey now, you were the one who wanted me to ‘do something constructive’. So I did.”
“You stupid… self righteous… !“
“Jaclyn!”
Crap. Jake cringed as she turned slowly, already feeling the blood rush to her face. Her mom was standing at the doorway, hands on her hips and a very unpleasant look on her face. Jake opened her mouth to explain but then closed it again. It was no use; she had a sinking suspicion as to what her mom would tell her to do.
That didn’t stop her mother from speaking. “Why are you yelling? There’s plenty of food here, and I’m sure he didn’t mean…”
Mentally Jake kicked herself for letting him get under her skin once more. Her mom was probably right. Turning to face Shane, she opened her mouth again.
“Sorry,” she managed although the look on his face made her regret it. He looked so smug standing there. Under her breath she added, “Two… one word; payback.”
His eyes widened slightly with a gleam, almost as if he were excited about the threat. His smile then grew in a way which said ‘bring it on’. For what felt like the hundredth time that day, it made her want to scream. And to think, she had actually started to believe he may be nice or something.
#
The food had been a bit cold, yet still tasted good. Nate set the plate down beside him as he positioned himself on the ground. It had been good fortune for him to find the plate sitting on the counter as if waiting for him, and for Shane to have been the only person in the room at the time. Well, not all good fortune, as someone else had started to make their way in there before he could leave again. Shane had taken care of that, though; Nate just hoped he had done so in a somehwhat civilized manner.
Sunlight flickered through the trees as Nate looked towards the sky. Logic probably would have had him headed back to his cabin right after grabbing the food, yet he hadn’t listened. It was too nice a day to be stuck indoors; even he could see that. He had never hated the outdoors after all. So instead he was here near the canoe shed. The shed itself was locked, yet there were canoes, paddles and life jackets flung around him.
The sound of a branch being snapped caused him to sit up again slightly. Voices and footsteps soon followed, coming down the nearby path. Crap. As quickly as he could manage, Nate grabbed one of the canoes and climbed inside, resting it upside down on the ground so he was underniegh it.
“I don’t know Tess. I mean, I had been thinking of doing my own thing for final jam,” he heard a female voice saying hesitantly. Nate peered in the space between the canoe and the ground, but could only see two pairs of shoes.
“Oh, well… singing solo during your first final jam is kind of risky,” another female voice replied. “What with the judging and the crowd and everything, I’d really hate to see nerves pull you down.”
“Oh… right. The judging. I mean, you’re right I guess.” The hesitance was really strong now. In a voice even softer he thought he heard her add, “Crowds kinda make me nervous.”
Well, at least you’re not hiding under a canoe, he thought bitterly, staring at the wood above him.
“Besides, Mitchie, a voice like yours would be just the thing to really sell our song.”
“You think so?”
“I know so.”
“Well, yeah, I guess,” the first girl said quietly.
“Just think about it, okay?” Nate wasn’t sure if he liked the tone this girl was relaying to the other. He heard footsteps beginning to move away again.
“No, wait, Tess!” The footsteps stopped. “You’re right. I’d love to sing with you guys.”
“Perfect. Meet at my cabin tonight at seven. We’ll practice the number for the bonfire.”
“Right; okay.”
The footsteps walked away again. Nate let out a sigh and put his hands on the canoe, ready to push it off himself again.
“Oh, what are you doing out here?”
His muscles tensed at the sound of the girl called Mitchie’s voice directed in his area. He peered under the canoe again in time to see a pale hand picking up the plate which moments before had held his lunch. He must’ve left it there. Nate was about to relax when he suddenly felt the canoe shift; the girl had sat on top of it. He heard what sounded like pages of a book being turned and soon humming.
Uh oh. Now what was he supposed to do? Lowering his arms again Nate let them rest on his stomach. There was nothing he could do, unless he wanted her to know he was there.
“Do you know what it’s like to feel so in the dark…” She seemed to be reading something, then repeated the words again, this time singing them quietly. Humming followed before she sang again, “To dream about a life, where you’re the…”
There was silence as she seemed to think of an ending. She must have been working on a song. Nate licked his lips as he attempted to stay as still as possible under the canoe. It was beginning to get hot and the sand he was lying on wasn’t particularly comfortable. He nearly jumped when her voice returned, this time louder than before.
“This is real, this is me… This is exactly where I’m supposed to be… Gonna let the light, shine on me…”
She had a very nice voice. Nate wondered if this was the song she had been planning to sing at final jam. Why was she so nervous about it? It sounded good to him. The girl... Mitchie... began working on the second verse again. In his head Nate began envisioning a guitar opening giving rise to a more powerful sound to the chorus for backup. Her groaning ended the vision. Letting out a frustrated breath, the girl hummed a bit more.
He continued to wait as she worked on the song more. The heat was making him sweat tremendously. Nate wiped his face quickly. It was a relief when the canoe rose slightly, signifying that the girl had gotten off of it again. She walked away, still humming to herself. Nate waited until the silence continued before lifting the canoe off himself. He sighed as he pulled himself off the ground and wiped off his clothes. He glanced only momentarily in the direction the girl had gone before jogging towards his own cabin. He had an idea.
#
“You chucked it at her head?”
“Yep.”
“Her… head.”
“That is what I said, Jason; her head.”
“Really, Shane? Really?”
Shane groaned. How many times was Jason going to ask this question? “Yes. We have now fully established that it was saran wrap and that it was thrown at her head. Moving on now…”
Nate joined him in the main room of the cabin rubbing his head with a towel as Jason talked a moment.
“Hope you saved me some hot water,” Shane muttered towards his little brother as Jason continued talking. The plumbing of this place sucked; one of the things he hated about it. Nate just rolled his eyes.
“Wait, Nate’s there?” Jason’s voice seemed to perk up at the mention of his other brother. “Put me on speaker. I’d like to speak to him too.”
Shane complied then set the phone on his bed.
“Hey, fro bro.”
Nate smiled. “Hey right back. How’s Elvis?”
“Fine, when I remember to feed him.”
“Very funny.”
“How’s camp going?”
Shane watched Nate grab the guitar from the shelf where it was stored. He seemed to be searching for the right words to say. “It’s… big.”
“Big?”
“Yeah.”
“If it’s still around, check out the south pier. It’s great. No one goes there since you can’t swim on that end of the lake. I loved that spot.”
Nate nodded as he sat with the guitar on his lap. “Will do. Thanks.”
Shane leaned back against the headrest as he listened to his brothers chat with one another. He closed his eyes and allowed the voices to blur. He’d certainly be getting plenty of sleep tonight; kitchen duty was exhausting. And boring, or at least the second half had been such. Even though Connie had remained nice, Jake had refused to talk to him after the saran wrap incident. Kind of a shame too, considering she had finally started to be somewhat pleasant. If he’d allowed himself to think about it, conversing with her hadn’t been all that horrible. It had been a surprise to discover something in common with her, in fact. And she hadn’t screamed about it or anything like it was the best thing in the world.
Then again, it was probably better that she hated him anyway. It was safer.
“I went hiking with Joe Spivey… he developed poison ivy…" Damn; that stupid song was in his head again. He’d been fighting it all evening.
“What was that?”
Shane’s eyes snapped open as he heard Nate address the question his way. He hadn’t realized he was saying anything out loud. “Just a stupid song in my head.”
Nate’s eyebrows furrowed together as if he were thinking hard. “Do I know that from somewhere?”
Yes... Shane scoffed and shrugged as if he didn’t know. “Beats me.”
But Jason wouldn’t leave it alone. “Oh yeah; it was one of those ‘Goofy Greats’ or ‘Looney Tunes’ or whatever they were called. We used to sing it a lot with Mom. She loved all those goofy songs. Remember, Shane?”
Shane fought the urge to scream as he listened to Jason begin into the chorus. He felt relief when Jason stopped, only to be annoyed again as his older brother asked, “Wait, how’s that verse go?”
“I don’t know,” Nate replied. “Shane?”
‘Don’t leave me in the woods where I might get eaten by a bear…’ Shane let out an annoyed sigh. “How the hell should I know? I don't remember. Some kid was singing that in the kitchen so it got in my head, that’s all.”
Nate looked hurt by the response. “Sorry.”
"Sorry," Jason echoed over the line.
Shane rubbed his face. Over the phone, Jason continued singing a bit, making up stuff for the words he didn’t know. Shane closed his eyes and again zoned out from whatever his brothers were saying. He might have fallen asleep had he not heard his name again; Jason was speaking to him, something about behaving or crap like it.
“Yeah…” he responded half-heartedly before hanging up the phone. Shane put the phone back into his pocket. That was when he saw Nate looking at him. “What?”
“I…” Nate hesitated, seemingly taken aback. The look in his eyes caused a shot of pain to enter Shane’s gut. He had seen that look too many times from his baby brother, and every time hated it more. It was especially so when it was caused by something he had said. “I went to Brown’s today.”
“Okay; good for you.” What did he want, a gold star or something? Then he'd remembered how it had been him who has issued the whole 'go outside every day' rule. “So?”
“He has a lot of pictures of… “
No, Nate, don’t start.
“Did you see them?”
Shane groaned. “Well they are hard to miss, aren’t they?”
The words came out harsher than he had intended. Nate almost recoiled. “I guess.”
“What’s it got to do with anything?”
“Nothing, I guess.” Nate looked back down at the guitar in his hands. He began fidgeting with the strings. He always fidgeted when he was nervous.
“Spill it,” Shane commanded.
Letting in a deep breath, Nate muttered something incoherent. Shane’s eyes narrowed as he became more annoyed. Finally Nate mumbled out, “It’s just… I don’t know, I guess I just wish I could actually remember stuff from before, you know? Actually know it and not just know what you and Jason tell me. It's all fuzzy.”
This again? “You think I remember anything?”
“Well, I mean, I was six…”
“And I was eight! What the hell could I remember that you wouldn’t?”
“I… I don’t know…”
“And if I did…” Shane stood, trying to think of a way to finish that sentence. Nothing came, leaving him standing there hovering over his brother longer than he would have wanted. Finally he gave up, instead heading out the door. He almost expected Nate to come running after him. He also almost wanted him to do so. He knew it wouldn't happen, yet he almost wanted Nate to follow him down the path, demand answers and call him out on the bluff he had just told. Because it was a bluff. Shane could remember it all.
He just would never admit to it.
#
From the moment he opened his eyes Nate knew it was way too early. Glancing out the small window over his bed revealed a sky still stained purple and black. He could hear the rustling of water from the lake just outside. It was one advantage of being Shane Gray’s brother; an ocean, er, lake-view cabin.
Despite the stillness his mind was restless. It had been most of the night. Climbing out of bed, he walked to the shelf where they kept the acoustic guitar. Shane had left it out of its case again. Nate carefully touched the wooden instrument, letting his hand run over it softly to avoid hitting any of the strings. The last thing he needed was Shane being angrily awakened; especially at… what time was it, anyway? Nate glanced at his watch to find the numbers read 3:02. Yikes.
Shane stirred in bed. Nate looked at him and then shifted his gaze back out the window. With it being so early none of the campers would be up yet. Breakfast wouldn’t even be for another couple of hours. Picking up the guitar from the shelf Nate strapped it on his back and headed out the door.
The question now was where to go from here. He glanced around. A spot near the lake seemed like a place which would leave him exposed. His eyes focused on the practice huts across the field. One of those would work; they were far enough away from the cabins to where no one would really be able to hear him. Nate made his way over to the first one he reached. He tried the handle; locked.
Walking around the building, Nate found a high window which was opened a crack. An idea hit him once he saw a set of trash cans nearby. Pulling one over, he climbed onto it then pulled on the window. It opened with little hesitance. Nate removed the guitar from his back. He carefully lowered it to the floor below before climbing into the room himself. His foot brushed against the can as he pulled himself up, sending it falling over. He watched it roll down the slight incline. No biggie; he could always unlock the door from the inside and make his way out that way.
Nate jumped off the windowsill, being careful not to land on his guitar. He picked the instrument up again and looked around for somewhere to play, finally settling on the stage portion of the room. He fiddled around with the strings, playing scales and other exercises he’d practiced as a kid. It was true that he could play a fair amount of instruments, yet the acoustic guitar had always been Nate’s favorite. This was where music had really started for him, with this very instrument. It had been his father’s.
“Like that now. Good.” A faint smile tugged the corner of Nate’s mouth as the memory, perhaps the only one he still had of his father, came to him. His father had been the one to show him how to hold a guitar. Nate wasn't supposed to have been in the room with his father and brothers yet had tagged along once he realized what was happening. He could still hear Shane whine about it and his father patently explain how it was only fair Nate learn, too.
“Maybe one day he’ll want to play,” his father had said. “Maybe one day you all will.”
If only he had known what the future held. Nate remembered how he had grinned proudly at the chance to try what his big brothers were doing. Course, then Nate had gone and dropped the guitar first thing, since he had been so excited, prompting another few comments from Shane. Jason had just laughed, as had his father.
“It’s okay. He didn’t hurt it…” The flash of his father’s words were too quickly gone again. Nate grasped at them, attempting to draw out more. There were none. He licked his lips and sighed.
A keyboard at the other end of the room caught his attention. Even though he had brought the guitar with him, the desire to play was gone upon seeing the portable piano-like instrument. Nate made his way over to it and sat at the small bench. He then sat in silence a few moments, pondering his next move. Without thinking he hit a chord on the keyboard, then another, and then a third.
“When I thought it’d all be done, when I thought it’d all been said…” he began. The words came out with only the smallest of melody to them. He paused briefly and stared at the wall ahead before playing the chords again. The keyboard’s sounds echoed in the otherwise quiet room. “All this time goes by, still no reason why… A little bit longer and-”
He voice broke slightly as he stopped, letting the silence come again. Nate closed his eyes and let out a sigh. His right hand went across the keys as the melody spread. He let it play, building up to words again. “But you don’t know what you got, till its gone… and you don’t know what it’s like to be so low…”
The notes echoed. In a near-whisper he sang, not thinking as he did, “And every time you laugh, you smile, you glow… You don’t even know…know… know…”
He continued playing, letting his fingers guide him as his thoughts slipped away.
“So I’ll wait till kingdom come… all the highs and lows are gone…”
The piano slowly became quiet as the song finished.
#
Beep. Beep. Beep.
A hand heavy with sleep clumsily searched out where the small alarm clock was sitting to no avail. Mitchie lifted her head slightly and finally located it, slamming the off button. She rested her head on her pillow only a moment; any longer and she would fall back asleep.
The joys of working in the kitchen call again, she thought as she got up from the bed. Mitchie searched the drawers and found some clothes for the day. She could hear coughing from the across the room. Mitchie looked to the other beds yet found Lola and Caitlyn still asleep. Anna’s bed, however, was empty. Her eyes peered down at the floor next to the bed. What she saw made her cringe.
“Anna?” Dropping her last shoe Mitchie headed to the bathroom. The light was on and the door was closed. Mitchie knocked. “Anna? You in there? Are you okay?”
She heard a weak groan come from the room, followed by a toilet flushing.
“Anna, I’m going to go get Dee, okay? I’ll be back in a minute.”
Mitchie began towards the door, hopping so she could put on her second shoe along the way. She nearly tripped yet managed okay. She didn’t bother to tie the strings, but instead began towards the camp grounds. She found Dee walking towards the practice huts, keys in hand. As quickly as she could manage Mitchie ran over to her.
“Ms Dee, Anna’s sick,” she said out of breath.
Dee stopped and looked at her. “What?”
“She’s in the bathroom getting sick,” Mitchie repeated.
“Oh, well, come on then. We should go get the nurse.” Ignoring her previous mission, Dee led the way back towards Mitchie’s cabin.
#
He hadn’t realized he was actually tired until he found himself waking up while still seated at the keyboard. Groggily Nate looked around as his mind tried to register the light streaming into the room. What time was it? He checked his watch again to find the numbers 8:53 on it.
Uh oh.
Shouts and laughter filled the air as voices began coming around the building. Breakfast was over; classes would be starting in only another seven minutes. Nate froze as the voices approached where the door was, only relaxing once they faded again. That had been close; too close. He grabbed his guitar and made his way to the door. He needed to get out of there before someone came into the room and discovered his presence.
Nate reached for the handle, pulling it down and pulling back. He then pulled it back harder. Nothing happened.
This is not good…
He grabbed hold so hard it hurt and pulled again to no avail.
No…
Twisting the handle the other direction he tried but got nothing.
No, no, no…
Letting go Nate examined the handle only to find that any lock on it had been taken off. The only way to unlock this door was now on the outside. The panic began to form in his head. He was trapped. More voices traveled his direction, making Nate jump. This time they didn’t fade.
Oh God, please no…
.