Where All The Boys Of Summer Go [fun.fic]

When Anna Duncan and her band, goodlife, sign up for a celebrity band camp, they never expected to even be accepted, let alone be paired up with fun., which both Anna and don’t-ask-don’t-tell guitarist Park Chang are obsessed with. They get on well with their mentor band, and love just might be in the air.

But things go wrong pretty quickly. Both Jack and Nate develop crushes on Anna, Park isn’t sure how to tell Andrew how he feels—until the entire camp somehow finds out about his sexual orientation, and rival band Dakota Lights has a knack for stealing goodlife’s instruments and equipment, especially after bassist Devin Clark gets into a relationship with said band’s lead singer, Casey Snowden. With only a month before the final concert, can goodlife and fun. manage to work past all the drama?

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2. Tuesday, July 2: Amarillo

When I wake up, the first thought I have is, Is Devin still here? I immediately swing my head around the edge of the bed, my hair hanging below me. Thankfully, he’s still there. He seems to have woken up before me, and I can guess from the huge smile on his face that his little meeting with Casey went well. “How’d it go?” I ask anyway.

“I’m in love and I don’t care if no one knows it,” he says, the smile not disappearing from his face.

“And you elves like to stick to the four main food groups: candy, candy canes, candy corn, and syrup?” I laugh at my own counter-reference, and then cut to the questions. “Did you kiss? Are you two together now?”

“Yes to both.”

I sigh. “You don’t know how lucky you are. I hate being a lip virgin.” I swing myself back onto the bed and take my iPod off the headboard. My song of choice is “Amarillo” by We Shot The Moon. I don’t know why they called it Amarillo, but it’s a good song.

 

Through the rain, in the snow

We’re gonna make it

We throw our hands in the air ‘cause

We’re gonna make it

But are we alive?

Yes we’re alive, yes you’re alive

 

 

The fireflies are coming out so

We’re gonna make it

In the wind I feel a change

We’re gonna make it

But are we alive?

Yes we’re alive, yes you’re alive

 

There’s a feeling in my veins

And I feel it every day

There’s a feeling that I chase

How it leaves me with the sweetest taste

 

The solo has only just begun when the cabin door swings open and Jenn Brown enters the room. Something tells me this isn’t normal, since it’s only 6:32 iPod time, and Jenn looks very, very worried. I hit pause and sit up, kicking off the duvet.

“Devin?” Jenn says. “Devin Clark?”

“That’s me,” Devin says.

“Your parents are on the phone. I need you to come with me to the office now.” Her voice is thick with the worry evident in her facial expression and the time she showed up.

I make a split-second decision and jump off the bed, landing next to Devin. “I’ll come too. It seems like something he could use moral support for.”

Jenn nods. “You’re probably right.” She motions for us to follow her and runs out of the cabin.

The office has a very officey carpet and a big, varnished mahogany desk covered in papers. The assistant director man is holding the phone. He gives said phone to Devin. Jenn sits in the leather swivel chair, and I stand next to Devin, halfway-sitting on the desk. “Hello?” he says into the phone. “Dad, what’s up? ... ” The smile on his face is replaced with a look of shock. “Say that again? ... Dad, that isn’t funny.”

I barely heard it on the other end: “I never said it was funny. Can you put me back on with Ms. Brown?”

“It isn’t possible, he can’t be dead, he was just saying goodbye to me yesterday morning!” Shit, I think. Peter’s dead.

Peter is—er, was—Devin’s older brother by three years. He was Devin’s role model. I remember back in first grade, all he could talk about was wanting to be just like Peter. This is going to eat him up like Alzheimer’s eats up brain cells.

Devin hands the phone to Jenn. He’s motionless for an eternal split second, then his face crumples and he starts to sob.

I put my arms around him. There’s no words I can say to make Peter un-die, so I do the thing I do best: I sing the first song that comes to mind. In this case, it’s “Amarillo.”

 

I can never say this right

But I want these words to be true

I’ll always fight the fight

I’ll always sing for you

 

Once I’m done singing, I guide him to a chair and turn to Jenn. “Casey Snowden. Cabin one, Dakota Lights. Can I go get her?”

“Do you think it’ll help?”

“More than I can.”

Jenn nods. “Go ahead.”

Five minutes later, I’m standing at the entrance to Cabin One. A boy with a backwards baseball cap and New York Mets pajamas is standing in said entrance with his arms crossed. “What do you want?” he grumbles.

“Hello, how do you do?” I mock curtsey. “I’m Anna Duncan. Cabin six, goodlife. I enjoyed your performance yesterday. What’s your name?”

He rolls his eyes. “AJ Snowden. What do you want?”

You’re welcome. “Would you be related to Casey Snowden?”

“Yes, she’s my sister. Now, WHAT DO YOU WANT.”

“I want to borrow Casey because her boyfriend’s brother just died and I think he could really use her right now.”

“Casey has a boyfriend?” AJ doesn’t look pleased by this news.

“Yes, she does. Can I borrow her?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because she’s too young to have a boyfriend.”

“AJ Snowden, is she a little sister to you?”

“No.  Well, technically, yes. She was born six minutes after I was.”

“Ah, you’re twins! Well, doesn’t that also make you too young to date?”

AJ can’t think of a comeback.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to borrow Casey. This is far more important than your apparent need to exert loco parentis.” I push past him into the cabin.

I stand in the archway and scan the bunkroom for Casey. I see her sitting on her bed, playing with her hair and staring into space. “Hey, Anna,” she says. “Why are you here in your pajamas?”

“Come now,” I say. It’s Devin.”

Devin’s name is like some sort of code word; it takes her a split second to get out of bed and end up next to me. “What happened?”

“His brother’s dead. I really, really hope you have magic to work.”

*               *                *

I stay in the office with Devin and Casey until Jenn Brown comes in and informs us that it’s time for breakfast. They decide to stay. I assure them that I’ll bring them breakfast, and go with Jenn to the dining hall.

“What was that all about?” Park asks when I sit down next to him.

“Devin’s brother equals dead,” I explain. “Cause equals unknown as of now. Devin didn’t say. Devin equals depressed. Me equals still in my pajamas and hungry as hell. Ooooh, is that French toast?” I take some from the platter and transfer it to my plate.

“You lost me at Peter equals dead,” Park says solemnly. “The world has lost a great man.”

“You mean sexy man, don’t you?”

“That too. How’s the toast?”

I snicker. “Great. Have some.”

“Mmm, is that French toast?” This is when I remember we’re at band camp and fun. is our mentor band. Nate sits next to me. “Hey, Anna Montana. Sleep well?”

“Please don’t make fun of my pajamas.” Why did I have to bring my Hannah Montana pajamas?” I slept great, until Devin’s brother died.”

The smile on Nate’s face evaporates. “What?”

“His parents called this morning. I don’t know how, but Peter Clark is no longer suffering from personhood.”

“Kelly’s with him, right?” Jack asks me.

“It’s Cassie, you moron,” Andrew interjects.

Casey is with him,” I say. “They decided to stay in the office for breakfast. Which reminds me.” I run to the kitchen window, where the runner-who-gets-the-food is supposed to bring the trays after meals, and flagged down one of the hairnet dudes. “Can I have a take-away box? Two take-away boxes?”

“Sure thing.” He disappears into the kitchen and comes back with two Styrofoam take-away boxes. I thank him, take it back to the table, and filled each with French toast, sausages, and little packages of syrup.

“Anna?” Nate says. “Once you’ve delivered their breakfast, you can just get back to the cabin. We need to perfect that song for tonight’s performance.”

I stop inserting the tab in the slot. “There’s another performance tonight?”

“Of course. There’s a performance every night.” He gives Dave a hard glare. “Did you forget-” he put airquotes around forget “-to inform them of these nightly performances?”

“I, uh…” It’s clear that Dave did forget.

“I shouldn’t have ripped the Playboy,” Nate mumbles to himself, but loud enough for everyone else at the table to hear. “I should have just let them fire him.”

As I walk back to the camp office, breakfast in hand, an idea starts to form in my head. By the time I push the door open (miraculously not dropping said breakfast), the idea has been fully formed and I’ve worked out all the kinks. I hand the Styrofoam take-away boxes to Casey, ruffle Devin’s hair, and leave. But instead of going right towards cabin six, I turn left towards the mentor band cabins.

I knock on the door to the second. It’s answered by the one and only Louis Tomlinson. “Hello,” he says. “You’re from the band that performed the OneRepublic song, aren’t you?”

“That I am.”

“We enjoyed your performance.”

“Thanks.”

“Now, what brings you here?”

“I need you five to do me a huge favor, okay?”

“If you weren’t such a good singer, and I hadn’t absolutely loved the song you performed last night, I wouldn’t have agreed. Come right in.”

“Gentlemen, we have a guest!” Louis announces as he leads me into One Direction’s bunkroom.

“Nice pajamas,” Liam says. I look down at Hannah Montana’s wigged head and wonder if he means it or if he’s just being a dick.

“State your name, rank and intention,” Harry says, pointing his index finger at me and sticking up his thumb to resemble a gun. Who knew Harry Styles watches Doctor Who?

“Anna Duncan. Lead singer, goodlife. I need you all to do me a huge favor.”

The boys looked at me expectantly.

“So, my best friend’s brother just kind of died. My band and I want to dedicate a song to him tonight. Here’s the thing: There’s probably going to be some funeral or wake thing he has to go to, so he won’t be here to see it.”

“So, what do you want us to do?” Zayn asks.

“Who among you has the most followers on Twitter?”

“That would be me,” Harry says, raising his hand like a kindergartener on his first day of school.

“Okay. Harry. I need you to take a video of the performance and Tweet it to these accounts.” I pause. “Anyone have a piece of paper?”

Liam rips a page out of a notebook. “Here.”

“Thanks.” I take it. “How about a pen?”

Liam hands me a pen. I carefully writer the Twitter handles for goodlife, Devin, and We Shot The Moon in my neatest handwriting and give it to Harry. “These accounts.”

He gives me a thumbs up. “Got it.”

“And which of you uses Skype the most?”

“That would be me,” Niall says in an imitation of Harry, who punches him on the arm. “What?” Niall says in mock innocence.

I ignore this and take the piece of paper back from Harry, ripping a blank piece off the bottom and inscribing Devin’s Skype username on it. “Bring a laptop to the performance. Skype him during said performance so he can watch it.”

Niall nods and gives me the same thumbs-up as Harry. “Got it.” Harry punches him again, but this time he’s smiling.

“That’s it,” I say. “Thanks, lads. Don’t forget.” I head back toward the camp office.

Devin’s dad’s car is parked out front. The driver’s seat is empty, but his mom is in the passenger seat. I jog over and tap on the window.

She rolls it down. “Hi, Anna.”

“Hi, Mrs. Clark. My condolences for the loss of Peter. That’s from all of us.”

“Thank you, all of you.” She smiles sadly.

I return the smile. “Will Devin be coming back?”

“If he wants to come back, we’ll have him back by tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow night! He will be sorely missed until then.” I bounce on my heels. “If it isn’t too offensive, may I ask how Peter Clark came to an end?”

“That isn’t offensive. He was hit by a drunk driver while crossing the street.” She sighs. “You never think it’s going to happen to your kid.”

I don’t know what to say, so I just nod.

The door to the office swings open. Casey kisses Devin on the cheek before heading back to her cabin. Devin’s dad gets in the driver’s seat, and Devin himself gets in the back. I tap on his window, and he rolls it down.

“You’re coming back, right?” I say. It’s more of an order than a question.

“Of course I am.”

“What will you be doing at 7:10 tonight?”

“Dad, what will I be doing at 7:10 tonight?”

“You’ll be home doing whatever,” Mr. Clark replies without turning around.

“Will you be able to go on Skype at that time.”

“I guess so. Why?”

I smile. “You’ll see.” I lean in through the window and give him a quick hug.

“See you tomorrow night,” he says.

“Yeah.” I back away from the car and watch as it pulls away from the Ultimate Band Camp, then I go back to my cabin.

Everyone is already in the practice room. Devin’s bass is still in its stand. I stand in the doorway. “Okay. Do all of you know ‘Amarillo’ by We Shot The Moon?”

Tony grins. “It’s one of those songs you blasted on the bus in eighth grade on a daily basis in an attempt to educate the rap-loving ghetto kids in the wonders of indie music, isn’t it?”

“Tony, I blasted a lot of songs on the bus in eighth grade on a daily basis in an attempt to educate the rap-loving ghetto kids in the wonders of indie music. But yes, it was one of those.” I return the grin.

Park raises an eyebrow. “Wasn’t it the one with the feeling in the depressed guy’s face?”

“It’s veins, dumbass.” I run into the bunkroom, get my iPod and speakers, bring them into the practice room, and start hunting for “Amarillo.”

Once I’ve found it, I look at Nate, Jack, and Andrew. “Can any of you play bass?”

Jack raises his hand. “A bit.”

I point to the bass. “It’s yours until tomorrow night. Devin left it here.”

I hit Play on my iPod. “Listen carefully,” I say. “We have until tonight to pull off the world’s best cover of this song.”

*                *                *

“Cabin five, Dynamite Over The Rainbow,” Jenn Brown says into the mic. I have to admit, I love that band name. I take a quick look at my watch. 7:13 on the nose. I wave down to Niall and Harry, who wave back. Niall is logging into Skype on his laptop. Harry is getting his phone ready for a video.

Dynamite Over The Rainbow finishes their cover of some indie song I haven’t heard of (which is strange) and we go up on the stage. Before we start playing, however, I have something to say. Niall turns the laptop toward the stage so I can see Devin on the other side.

I resist the urge to wave and begin. “First of all, I’d like to introduce our guest bassist, Jack Antonoff.” I gesture to my left. The audience applauds.

“Secondly, the reason we have a guest bassist. Our real bassist has temporarily left due to the death of his older brother, and let me go on record by saying he adored him. So. Devin Clark, we are all thinking of you in this horrible time. This one’s for you, man. ‘Amarillo’ by We Shot The Moon.”

Harry’s holding his phone up, trying to get a good video. Niall’s holding his laptop up so Devin can have a better view. Nate Ruess is holding his hands up. It appears he’s doing this just for the hell of it.

 

Through the rain, in the snow

We’re gonna make it

We throw our hands in the air ‘cause

We’re gonna make it

But are we alive?

Yes we’re alive yes you’re alive

 

The fireflies are coming out so

We’re gonna make it

In the wind I feel a change

We’re gonna make it

Are we alive?

Yes we’re alive, yes you’re alive

 

As I prepare to sing the bridge, I take a quick glance at the laptop Niall is holding in the air. Devin’s hand is over his mouth, and it seems like he’s trying to shrink back into a compressed ball as he cries. I catch a drift of that emotion and put it into the bridge.

 

There’s a feeling in my veins

And I feel it every day

There’s a feeling that I chase

How it leaves me with the sweetest taste

 

I pick up my electric and begin the solo. I don’t like it as much as the solo for “The Brightside,” but it’s a good solo. I make sure it sounds perfect.

There’s this crazy long outro We Shot The Moon does, but we don’t think it sounds right, so we cut it from our performance and just have Park sing the last line.

 

There’s still so much to see

Come and chase this dream

 

The audience erupts into the same applause as yesterday. I make a peace sign with my fingers, but this time, I don’t include any racial slurs.

Harry Styles and Niall Horan are clapping and whooping. Niall lowers his laptop and says a few things to Devin before waving me over.

I sit down next to him. “Yeah?”

Niall puts the laptop on my lap. “He wants to talk to you.”

I look into the webcam. “Hey.”

“Hi.” He sniffs.

“I'm sorry we made you upset.”

“No, no, it wasn’t that at all. It’s just that I feel really cared about is all. Yeah.”

“Oh.”

“I can’t talk much longer. I have to eat dinner soon.”

“Hey, tell you what. If you’re back by seven p.m. tomorrow night, what song do you want to do?”

He thinks for a second. “What about ‘A Little Too Late’ by Jocelyn?”

“Brilliant! We’ll do that song tomorrow. If you’re back. If not, we can do it on Thursday.”

I hear Mr. Clark say something I can’t decipher. “I’ve gotta go now,” Devin says.

“Okay. See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” The screen goes blank.

I shut the laptop and give it to Niall. “I owe you both big-time,” I say.

“How about we be friends?” Niall grins.

“Posted,” Harry says, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “Hey, I wanna be friends too.”

“Sure thing,” I say, and I'm friends with Harry Styles and Niall Horan.

*                *                *

We were playing Capture the Flag, but then we heard thunder and had to run back to our cabins, part of the way in the pouring rain. Jack, Nate, and Andrew went back to their own cabins first to change, then came back to ours to hang out. Everyone except for Nate, Tony, and me just wanted to sit in the bunkroom and play Truth or Dare. We three actually wanted to work on music.

While we teach Tony the drum part for “Learning How to Love,” a question starts to rise in me. I get the nerve to ask it once we finish teaching and Tony starts practicing.

“I have a question,” I say to Nate.

“Go ahead.”

“Why is it that both of you and Jack have flirted with me, but Andrew hasn’t?”

He blushes. “Oh, um, well, Andrew’s gay.”

“Seriously?” I try very, very hard to hide my disbelief.

“Yeah. Why? You aren’t a homophobe, are you?”

“No. I can’t be. Park’s gay too.”

Nate’s jaw drops. “You’re kidding.”

“I'm not.”

“Here’s the thing,” he whispers loudly. “I think Andrew likes Park.”

“We are going to hook them up.”

“Yes, we are.” He spits in his palm and holds it out to me. I do the same. We shake on it.

However, one question remained. I decided not to ask it.

*                *                *

We decided to put away the music for the night and go play Truth or Dare with everyone else. I sat down to the right of Park, and even though it had just been Andrew’s turn, everyone decided that I should go next. I thought for a second before saying, “Park.”

“Truth,” he replies.

I keep my fist-pump in my head. “Do you have a crush on anyone in this room?”

“Hmm.” He pauses. “Yes.”

“So he likes you?” Jack interjects.

“No, he likes any one of you. He’s gay.” Park nods in agreement.

“I’ll go next,” Nate says. Apparently we aren’t going in a circle. “Anna, truth or dare?”

I'm feeling adventurous, so I go with “Dare.”

“Okay, I dare you to kiss me.”

I sigh and try not to smile. There’s no backing out of a dare, so I go over to him. He stands up, leans down, and puts his lips against mine for a good five seconds.

I pull away and go back to my seat. Park welcomes me by clapping and shouting, “Bravo! Encore! Encore!” I sit down and smack him on his arm.

This is when I realize that the kiss was my first.

I just had my first kiss. I just had my first kiss by Nate Ruess. This is not happening. Somebody pinch me.

“My turn,” Jack says. “Nate.”

“Dare,” Nate replies.

“Sing the first verse of the most awkward song you know.”

“The most awkward song I know? That’s an easy one.” He clears his throat. “A pity she does not exist, a shame he’s not a fa-ag…”

I know this song. I try to hide my smirk, but I can’t stop myself from glancing over at Andrew, who has thrown his head back and is mouthing “WHY GOD WHY” at the ceiling.

“…the only girl I’ll ever love is Andrew in drag. There is no hope of love for me, from here on I’ll go sta-ag. The only girl I’ll ever love is Andrew in drag.”

I can’t help but join in for the chorus. “Andrew in draaaaaag, Andrew in drag. Andrew in draaaaaag, yeah!”

“Well, yeah, except Andrew is a fag,” Jack points out.

“If you ever sing that song again, I will shove Jack’s guitar up your ass,” Andrew snaps at Nate.

“Gee, I didn’t know you hated it that much,” Nate says, a look of mock hurt on his face.

“My turn,” Tony announces. “Park.”

“Truth.”

“Who is it that you like?”

“Not you,” he says simply. “You see, you should have asked me what is the NAME of the person which I like. Of course, I'm picking dare next.”

Jack looks at his watch. “Or we’re leaving next. Would you believe it, it’s already 9:45.”

I checked my own watch. Jack was right. I went into my trunk and dug out my pajamas. “I still think it’s funny how you’re seventeen-”

I cut Nate off. “Sixteen.”

“-yeah, sixteen and you still wear Hannah Montana pajamas,” he finishes.

I shrug. “They fit. Why would I get rid of them?”

“Well, we should be off,” Andrew says, standing up.

“Yeah,” Jack chimes in. “We’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

By the time I get out of the bathroom, they’re gone without a trace. I climb into bed and slip under the covers, putting my glasses on the headboard.

“Lights out in five…four…three…two…one…” Dave flips the switch, plunging the entire cabin into darkness.

Once my eyes have adjusted to the lack of light, I reach over the headboard and poke Park. “You can tell me who it is,” I whisper.

“Okay.” He rolls over and leans on his forearms. “It’s Andrew.”

I can’t hide my smile. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“He likes you too! This is amazing! Devin and Casey like each other. You and Andrew like each other. Everything is romantically falling into place!”

“Should I ask him out?”

“Of course you should. I'm going to sleep now.” I flop over onto my back and look up at the ceiling. Hey, God? I pray. I know I'm a horrible Catholic, but here’s a little prayer request thing. Comfort and healing for my really good friend Devin Clark, and please don’t send Peter Clark to hell. Amen. I close my eyes and go to sleep.

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