Man, it's been forever since I've updated this story... but anywho, thanks for those of y'all who either:

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Don't own Camp Rock- sad to say...

Previously on Geek High...

Blondie bounced up to Shane, completely ignoring me. "What are you doing with that loser?" Well... I guess not completely.

"What? Is it wrong to walk to class with my girlfriend?" Shane had a completely confused expression playing upon his face. I got to hand it to him. He's a pretty good actor.

Tess' eyes widened slightly and then narrowed.

Shane maneuvered me around her and continued towing me to class.

I can't help but wonder why even though we were in the car, Shane still refused to drop my hand.

Sprained Ankle

"I told you so," I stated, breaking the silence. Due to those idiotic heels Shane forced me to wear, he ended up having to carry me because I sprained my ankle.

"I don't mind," he shrugged, smirking down at me. I felt like socking him in the face.

Letting out a frustrated groan, I folded my arms over my chest and pouted like a toddler. Shane's smirk only grew. "You're just like a little baby," he teased. He shifted my weight in his arms so that I was closer to his hard, muscular chest. I couldn't help but blush.

Observing my surroundings, I realized that we weren't going the right way. "According to my calculations, the art room is on the other end of the school," I pointed out.

"According to my calculations, you have a sprained ankle that may even be broken, so I'm taking you back to your house," he mocked.

"Why are we going back to my house?" I thank god that Clarisse was out shopping. She does this everyday after the dweebs and I go to school. Michael was a lucky bastard. He got to stay with mom and her awesome boyfriend. "Couldn't we just go to the nurse's office?"

Shane shook his head. "You can never trust nurses."

I rolled my eyes. "Suit yourself."

We went into his car yet again, but this time he set me down gently rather than throwing me. Since Shane didn't want me to set my foot down on the ground, he took my feet and set it on his lap. He took of my shoes and examined my damaged ankle. Shane didn't talk to me for most of the ride. He occasionally asked, "Does this hurt?" but that was it.

The driver halted at my drive way. Shane got out first and gave me a piggy back ride. I gave him my spare key and he opened the door.

"Do you have a first aid kit?" he asked, setting me down on a chair.

"First cabinet on your right," I replied.

Rummaging through the cabinet, he pulled out a first aid kit. He took out bandages and wrapped my foot in a Lousisana technique. He also pulled out some ice from the freezer and set it on my swollen foot.

"Wow, you're not as dumb as I thought you were," I complimented.

"And you're not as graceful as I thought you were," he scoffed.

"Now that hurts," I teased back.

All of a sudden his cell phone started to ring in his pocket. He pulled it out, glanced at it briefly, and answered. "Yeah, Nate?"

The brunette paused for a moment before giving it to me. "He has something to ask you," he explained. "I'll be back. I have to run an errand. Keep your foot elevated."

And with that he was out the door. I raised the phone to my ear.

"Hello?" I asked.

"Mitchie!" Nate exclaimed.

"Hi Nate."

"Listen, can you do me a favor?"

"All depends on what the favor is."

"Can you ask Caitlin out for me?"

"Now that I can do."

"Really? Thank you so much! I owe you, bye!"

I pressed the off button and set it down on the table.

"Mitch, wake up," a familiar voice said, shaking me lightly.

My hand flung out and met with something.

"Ah! God," the voice went again.

My eyes snapped open. "Oh my god I'm so," I paused.

Shane stood there, holding his nose.

"Oh, it's you," I sighed, sinking in the chair, my leg still rested up on the table.

"Thanks Mitch," he sighed, walking closer to me. The stubborn pop star pulled up a chair and sat next to me. He reached behind his back and out of nowhere, grabbed what seems to be a present. It was wrapped in black, glossy wrapping paper and had a deep red bow in the center of the top.

I furrowed my eyebrows. "What's the occasion?" I asked, still looking at the black present. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Shane roll his eyes.

"I can't believe you forgot your own birthday Mitch," he said sarcastically. He placed his elbow on the table and rested his chin on his palm.

"You even got me a present," I said quietly.

I continued to stare at the h

"Sing for me," he replied, gazing at me intensely.

"What?" I said quickly.

"You heard me."

Coming up with a quick excuse, I stuttered, "I-I have to go to the… uh… the bathroom! Yeah… the bathroom." And with that I hobbled out of the kitchen and into the downstairs bathroom.

Flipping on the light switch, I nearly fell over in shock.

Obscuring my reflection was bright blue toothpaste, forming the words 'Happy Birthday Mitch!'.

"Shane!" I called out.

Turning my head, Shane was already leaning against the wooden doorframe leading into my family's small, crammed bathroom. It was mostly filled with all of Clarisse's beauty products. As if they did anything to help. Though I have to admit – it was quite enjoyable to her in the bathroom repeatedly saying, "Who's that sexy beast".

"What the hell did you do to my freaking mirror," I scolded, grabbing a paper towel and running it under cold water.

"Well, there's your other birthday present," he said bluntly, examining his nails.

Seriously? Guys examine their nails? I thought only girls do that!

I stopped wiping off the toothpaste and leaned against the counter to face Shane.

"I hate Birthdays," I mumbled under my breath.

"Why?"

"Long story."

"I like long stories," he smirked.

Ugh! This guy is impossible!

Yeah, isn't as good as I wanted it to be, but I still hope you enjoyed!

Preview:

Mitchie: It makes me feel older.

Shane: Now can you sing for me?