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CHAPTER ONE
beat the heat
THE SUN BEATED DOWN her face as she stood in front of the junior rocker cabin's. It was the first day of Camp Rock. Her new position as Activities Leader required her to greet every overprotective or negligent parent. However, it didn't require her to be happy about it.
Normally, one wouldn't complain about having an actual job, but Andrea had been standing for nearly ten minutes without greeting a single person in the god awful heat listening to Anna Margret and Christoper Wilde on repeat over the radio that Gigi left for her. It was enough to drive anyone crazy and at this point in time, she was going insane.
Andrea sighed loudly. Either there was a lack of campers this year or there was a pile up in the highway. Either way, she had to check if her $20 setting spray was worth it.
Taking a quick break from dying in the sun, Andrea took one look at her reflection against the window. It proved that her setting spray wasn't her money's worth. Her eye makeup sweating away. No wonder no one was there. She was scaring them away.
Andrea fetched her black Jansport backpack from under the cabin's steps and took out her insulated water bottle. She used what little water she had left to wipe off her makeup.
Andrea's sweat was making everything stick unaesthetically. She re-tucked her maroon camp rock staff shirt back into her high waisted shorts. She took the entangled hair out of her hoops and gold arracadas. She re-positioned the red bandanna on her high ponytail. She even take out the tiny rock that she forgot was stuck in her timbs since last year.
11:45 am read her deep dive watch. 15 more minutes until she was able to leave and get the hell out of the sun.
Andrea brought out her SPF 100 sunblock. God, I need shades, she thought. She covered her eyes with her hand to look up at the scorching sun.
There were rings around it.
"A storm's acoming," she dramatically reenacted. "Brace yourself for the heavens are giving the humble disciples a warning."
"Who told you that?"
Andrea jumped out of her skin. She was too distracted by the memory of her dead schizophrenic grandfather to hear anyone sneak up on her.
When Andrea saw Brown Cesario, her boss, fully form from the white dots she was seeing due to staring directly at the sun like an idiot she immediately relaxed.
"Old Man Orellana," she answered as she began spraying her sunblock. "He would scream it at the top of his lungs in our front yard when I was kid whenever the sun would look like that. Then, he would proceed to speak conspiracy theories in latin about the ending of days."
Brown nodded along. "Your dad never told me about your grandfather."
Her dad never told anyone about anything. Growing up he was a reserved guy, it's one of the reasons why her mom divorced him six years ago.
"People don't like divulging embarrassing information," she quoted her mother.
"Somebody you love having a mental illness isn't something to be embarrassed by."
Andrea tilted her head. "I never said he was the one embarrassed."
A few more second of silence happened before Brown decided to speak up. "Connect 3 is coming."
Andrea squinted at Brown. "Like all 3 of them to perform for the opening jam?"
"No," he answered as if she were a child. "To stay. For the whole summer."
The whole summer.
The entire summer.
The-
"Are you okay?"
Andrea nodded acting completely unbothered. "Okay."
Brown didn't believe her for a second. No matter how many times in the past couple of years she claims she's forgiven them, she hadn't. There was no doubt in his mind that she would like it, but she just couldn't.
It becomes evident when she switches radio stations or tv channels when they're on. Even more so, when she refuses to come to certain events because she knows for a fact that they would be there. It's why she went to visit her grandmother during the days the beach jam and final jam were going on.
"If you're not comfortable being near them during the summer because of the final jam fiasco-"
He probably was referring to the time that Shane Gray decided to sing a love song, a love song that Andrea had partially written in her very private journal that he never intended to return, to her for the Final Jam. Then, proceeded to get a record deal, tour across the world, and make millions off of with his brothers. While she got teased for years to come by her fellow coworkers and camp mates because of it.
"I'm fine," She told him in her most calmest voice. "I am. Truthfully. So, can you just go? Please."
Brown stared at her for a moment before getting the memo that she wasn't going to open up anytime soon. She never does.
With reluctance, he left her to be miserable under the sun.
Not long after Lionel St Clair, resident asshole, came behind her while she was greeting a parent. The way he dragged his foot along the gravel path was a dead give away. Three months ago, he got into a car crashing leaving a bit of his calf with nerve damaged.
"Hey, Lionel," she said halfheartedly.
Lionel pointed behind him, the direction Brown went. "You do that?"
Andrea sighed. She felt bad for being a bit harsh, but it was the only for Brown to get the hint. "Yeah."
"Figures," he said. "Only you can go that."
She turned to look at him. "Do what?"
"Break his heart without batting an eye," Lionel stated.
Andrea rolled her eyes. This again. She could honestly care less that her need to set boundaries makes her look like a bitch. She'll always look like a bitch in people's eyes. What the point of trying to give an explanation for every action?
"What can I say? I have a gift."
It was common for Andrea to be a bit heartless when it came to other's people's reactions about her actions. She just wasn't used to people not hearing the truth. Lionel was the only one that never had to adjust to her insensitive demeanor because his family was exactly like that. In some way, her attitude made him feel a bit like home.
Andrea pointed at the sun. "A storm's coming."
Lionel turned to stare at the sky. It was obvious that he didn't see what she saw.
Nonetheless, he nodded along. "C'mon, the opening jam is starting."
