battle of the bands (and babes) ~ camila/you

chapter twenty eight

Nate Powell and I were born an hour apart, in the same hospital. Our parents met before we did, and the friendship blossomed from there. We met officially on the first day of kindergarten, when Nate was the only other kid in the class who had a Ninja Turtle action figure. I had Leonardo, he had Donatello. After that, we became friends with Dinah and the Three Musketeers were born. And today, we turn eighteen together.

We both made it clear that we wanted a peaceful day with no parties, just a lot of time to be able to see our friends and families. Using our brain power, we set up a schedule for the day- we would have brunch together, head to the boardwalk arcade with friends, and have a fancy dinner with family. But if there's one thing I didn't trust, it was that Ally would do nothing.

Ally has always been one to celebrate. She threw parties for every occasion, including her own birthday party, which she has planned for years by herself. I was very suspicious, which will always be my downfall. If I wasn't a musician, I could be a great detective.

"You're thinking what I'm thinking, huh?" Nate smirked, stealing a fry from my plate.

"That there's something off about everyone today?" I responded. "Of course. Camila hasn't been answering my texts."

"Yeah, I blocked Ally last night."

"Why would you do that?"

"She kept sending me Pinterest recipes."

"That sounds incredible. Camila just sends me pictures of baby goats and asks if we could buy one."

Nate laughed, getting the attention of the waitress and asking for the check. All of a sudden, we both heard our phones go off.

Camila 😍🙊 🌺🎀: babeeee there's two train tickets on your car for you and nate. you both leave in an hour. we have a reservation for the sugar factory in the meatpacking district at 5. dress nicely!!!! pls don't get lost in the city

Nate showed me the phone, receiving almost the exact same text message from Ally. We paid the bill, tipped our waitress, and headed outside. Sure enough, there was two train tickets on the windshield of my car.

"Meet me at the station in an hour?" Nate asked. "I bet I can dress more like a GQ model than you."

"Before high school, you dressed like a kid at an amusement park. This," I gestured to his flannel and boots. "Is all you going out shopping with me."

"I hate you."

"Too bad you're stuck with me all day then."

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Nate fell asleep on the train. We made the mistake of sitting in the Quiet section. We were surrounded by old ladies and exhausted parents. I couldn't help but think on this train ride about how different everything would be next year at this time. Everyone would be finishing up their first year of college, and I hoped that there wouldn't be a disconnect in our group. Although we would go to different places and study different things, I didn't want to lose the great friends I had. I would've gotten anywhere without everyone's help. Hell, maybe I'd be doing worse. Growing up is weird. But growing up and having a change of heart about a kid that threatened to take everything away from you? That's unheard of. It sounds like something out of a crime novel.

The other day, someone in school came up to me and called me a hero for saving Shawn. I told them that I didn't save Shawn, because I don't feel like I did. I just uncovered the truth. Perhaps the truth saved him? But in doing so, I divided his family. His old group of friends. Him and his brother. Often times, I'll look and myself and wonder if I should've gotten involved at all. That's when I realized that no one else would've done anything. But does that make me a hero?