Camp Rock
(WARNING: if you are waiting for the movie to find out what happends, DO NOT READ! this is the offical story!)
Chapter 1
"Mitchie, up!" Connie Torres commanded as she stepped through piles of clothes and CDs on her fourteen-year-old daughters room floor. "Last day of school!" She clapped her hands cheerfully before disapearing down the hall.
In the bed, Mitchie stirred and groaned. Her hand shot out from under the covers and grabbed a CD labled Mitchie's Tunes from the nightstand. Without looking, Mitchie popped the disc into the CD player and pushed play.
Instantly, the chords of a pop song filled the room. It featured vocals by none other than Mitchie Torres herself. As the beat intensified, Mitchie threw off her covers and jumped out of bed. She pulled her long, brown hair back, and singing the words she knew by heart, she opened the closet and peered in.
What to wear? The jean miniskirt? She held it up to her hips. Nope. The skirt was looking a little too mini. Shorts? Nope. Same problem. Pants, she thought. Maybe? Grabbing a pair capris from a hanger, she tried them on. Better, but not perfect. Then she speid leggings, and inspiration flared. A skirt, Leggings, a T-shirt- the perfect, not-too-dressy, last-day-of-school outfit.
In the middle of putting on a long neckless, Mitchie was hit with an idea. She hurried from her closet to her desk, where she grabbed a journal. On the front, in bold letters, was written "Mitchie's Songs." She furiously scribbled some lyrics on a blank page. Satisfied with the new verses, Mitchie smiled, put the journal away, and continued dancing out of her room, down the hall, and into the kitchen, where her mother had set out breakfast.
Mitchie plopped down at the kitchen table, and began to scarf down an omlet. On the telivition, an entertainment show discussed the most recent antics of Shane Gray- musician and hottie. "The pop-star phenominon, Shane Gray," the telivition reporter intoned, "may have gone too far this time when he stormed off the set of his new video after someone gave him a grande nonfat latte insted of his legindary Venti soy chai latte with extra foam. this final stunt cost him his label thousands of dollars, but may cost him his record deal."
Mitchie sighed. Shane Gray had everything. Why would he want to ruin it?
"The message is clear," the reporter went on. "He needs to clean up his act. And to give him time to do it, the Connect Three summer tour has been cancled."
The report was almost over when Mitchie's mother sat down in the seat next to her.
"Look what I found in the crisper," Connie said, tossing a colorful, glossy booklet onto the table. "A Camp Rock brochure. Or should I say another Camp Rock brochure?" she added.
"Hmm, look at that!" Mitchie said, faking surprise. She shoved another omlet into her mouth. So maybe the hints she'd been dropping about going to Camp Rock this summer hadn't been as subtle as she thought. But if she got in, all her dreams could come true.
"So, you have no knowledge of how this brochure got into the refrigerator?" her mother asked. "Or the one taped to the vacuum cleaner?"
Mitchie shrugged.
"Sweetie," Connie continued, "I know you want to go to this camp, but we just can't swing it right now with Dad expanding the store and my catering business just taking off, and.....I'm sorry," she said gently.
Mitchie's mood deflated. Deep down she had figured Camp Rock was out of the question, but a girl could hope......
"I know," she said, standing to take her empty plate to the sink. "Well, gotta go. Last day of school. Don't want to be late."
The halls were abuzz with the last-day-of-school energy. Students were joking wiht eachother as they joyfully dumped old notebooks, tests, and quizzes into the overflowing garbage cans.
Mitchie opened her locker to find a year's worth of of clutter- crumpled papers, worn-out pencils, leaky pens, and textbooks- jammed in at odd angles.
She sighed and began throwing various items into the trash. A Camp Rock brochure caught her eye. She sighed and tossed it into the trash, too.
She was still cleaning a few minuted later when Sierra, a lanky girl with glasses, walked and opened the locker next to Mitchie's. Sierra was Mitchie's best friend- her only friend.
"Let me be the first to say xin xia ji!"Sierra exclamed, acknowledging summer's arrival. "Guess who got an A-plus an AP Mandarin? Me. Again!"
Sierra screamed excitedly, but Mitchie didn't feel like joining in the celibration of her friend's achienement just now. She was too distracted by a group of popular girls floating down the hall.
"Ugh," Sierra groaned. "The Queen Bees are here. If we don't move, they won't sting." She rolled her eyes, but Mitchie watched the girls enviuosly.
"Don't you ever wonder what it would be like to be one of them?" Mitchie asked.
Sierra gave her friend a suspicious look. "Are you feeling feverish?" She jokingly put her hand on Mitchie's forehead. "So," she said, changing the subject, "how'd it go this morning?"
"It didn't," Mitchie said dejectedly. "Camp Rock is a no-go."
"But you have to go! Camp Rock is, like, the music camp. Everybody who wants to be somebody in music-" Sierra stopped when she saw the unhappy look on Mitchie's face. "-All of which you already know. Sorry."
Mitchie swept the remaining junk from her locker into the trash and closed the door one last time. "Me, too. I was so excited to go and have a summer that's all about music."
Sierra closed her own locker and put a hand consolingly on Mitchie's shoulder. them she asjed the only one thing she could, "So, what are you going to do this summer?"
Chapter 2
Unfortunately, Mitchie's dream of a rock-filled summer were replaced with the harch reality of waiting tables. Not the glamorous break she had immagined, but it would keep her busy and hopefully earn her some cash.
She was still bummed, however, when she got home the evening after her first shift. The smell of burgers wafted through the house. Following the scent, Mitchie walked into the backyard. Her mother greeted her with a plastic plate holding a large, juicy hamburger.
"Our world-famous Torres burger!" Connie declared.
Mitchie's father, Steve, waved from his spot manning the grill.
"Uh... I'll pass," Mitchie said, feeling slightly nauseous. She had seen enough hamburgers for one day.
"Okay," her father said, his eyes twinkling despite the sad expression on his daughters face. "I cant stand it. Tell her."
"Tell, me what?" Mitchie asked, confused.
Her mothers face broke into a wide smile. "You're going to Camp Rock!" she cried.
Mitchie's mouth fell open as she stared at her parents in disbelief.
"Actually," corrected her mother, grinning as she sat down at the picnic table, "we're going. Connie's Catering is going camping."
As the words sank in, Mitchie let out a loud shriek and began jumping up and down.
Connie unfolded her napkin in her lap as her daughter continued to cellibrate. "Business is slow in the summer," she explaned. "This is a steady job, and you get to go to camp for a discounted rate. But you have to help out in the kitchen."
Mitchie didn't care. She would clean the bathroom, too, if they asked. "Thank you," Mitchie said, wrapping her arms around her mother and then her father. "Thank you, like, a million times!"
"I think she's excited," her father said, shooting a wink at his wife.
Connie nodded, and Mitchie beamed as she squeezed them tighter. She was going to Camp Rock!
Chapter 3
Mitchie's eyes were wide as she took in the scene passing outside the car window. Her mother steered their van by a huge sign at the camp enterence that read, Camp Rock. Once on the camp grounds, Mitchie saw SUVs and tiny sports cars pulled up in front of the check-in area. Rustic cabins dotted the camp-grounds.
Campers and counselors roamed around. they had name tags resembling backstage passes dangling from their necks. From whatMitchie could see, it looked as if the campers had already started to form groups: the goths, had found each other, the hip-hoppers, the emos, the angry-chick music girls, the heavy-metal heads, the country crooners, and, of course, the rockers. One group had pulled out sheet music and was singing a cappella. Another was jamming intently on their instruments.
"Excited?" Connie asked.
"A little.... okay, a lot," Mitchie conceded.
"Major. Yes, yes! Thanks Mom!" she gushed. "I'm gonna have so much--"
Mitchie's attention was stolen midsentence by a girl stepping out of a white stretch limo. The light caught the girl,s long, blond hair as she grabbed on her rhinestone-encrusted cell phone. Two assistants dutifully unloaded her designer luggage from the trunk of the limo.
Mitchie's mouth dropped. So that's what the Queen Bee of Cemp Rock looked like. Before she could get a closer look, Connie drove the van behind the mess hall.
One thing was clear- this was going to be a very interesting summer.
"And then my mom got me backstage passes to Shane's concert," Tess, the Queen Bee that Mitchie had just spotted, said rather casually into her cell phone. Ella and Peggy, speaking to Tess on their cell phones, fell into step beside her. The two girls made up Tess's entourage. Wherever she wnt, they followed.
"Too bad they canceled the concert," Peggy said, still speaking on the phone even though Tess was less than a foot away.
"Whatev," Tess answered. "I'm sure he's invited to my mom's big record party next month."
"Your life? Perfect." Ella observed with a shade of envy.
Tess's life did seem pretty perfect. She was rock royalty. Her mother, T.J. Tyler, had topped the charts more times than Tess could remember. There was even a special "Grammy room" in their house just for T.J.'s music awards.
"Yeah, but whatev." Tess sighed into the phone. Before she could go on, she spied a group of girls singing last year's hit song, backed by three guys beat-boxing. She stopped in her tracks. "Wannabes," she scoffed as she closed her phone with a sharp snap.
Peggy shut her phone also. "Yeah," she agreed. Then, "Wait, aren't we?"
Tess glared at her. "No, Because this year, we're going to to win Final Jam," she said confidentaly.
"That will be so awesome," Ella gushed, her cell phone still atached to her ear.
Tess and Peggy looked at each other than at their friend. "Ugh, Ella," Tess said with a smirk, "we're off the phone."
"Oh, yeah," Ella replied, still into the phone. "Call me back."
Tess and Peggy rolled their eyes. Ella wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but she knew how to sing backup vocals.
The cabin Mitchie and her mom would be bunking in was quaint though bare. Sunlight streamed in thrigh the screaned windows and onto the twin beds. Mitchie threw her duffel bag on the bed closest to the door and turned toward her mom. "Settled," she said quickly.
But insted of her mom, a man responed from outside. "That's great," the voice said.
Curious, Mitchie and Connie watched as an aging rocker with short hair, faded jeans, and a worn T-shirt entered the cabin.
"Brown Cesario," the nam siad, extending a hand. "Camp directior slash founding member and bass guitar of the West Crows. You must be Connie Torres, our new cook."
"That's me," Connie said, shaking his hand. "And this is my daughter-" She turned to introduce Mitchie, but her daughter, and summer kitchen assistant, had sliped out. "-Who is already gone!"
Brown laughed. "She probably just wanted to get out there and get to it. When the music calls, you gotta answer."
"You should meet her," Connie said, laughing at Brown's assessment. "She's got a great voice. Oh! I'm bragging!"
"Gotta brag," said Brown. "Learned that from the Mickster."
Connie looked impressed.
"Backed him up for years on the bass guitar! Great times, but not as great as the time I toured with......"
Connie nodded politely. She had a feeling she wasn't going to be able to start dinner for a while- not with Brown in the middle of a story.
Chapter 4
The campers were gathered in a sunken, stadium-style area for their official Camp Rock welcome. As they waited, a boy named Andy began to bang out a rhythm on the bench with his drumsticks. One by one, the other campers joined in, ading to the beat and dancing and singing.
Mitchie, who had just arrived, watched in awe. She had never seen so much talent gathered in one place! Not loking where she was going, she accidentally bumped into Tess. "Sorry," Mitchie started, "I didn't see you."
"Obviously," Tess snapped and continued walking.
Mitchie stared after her in shock. Talk about rude!
"That's Tess Tyler," explained a girl stiiting nearby. "The diva of Camp Rock."
"Is she really good?" Mitchie asked, watching Tess sashay over to an empty seat and sit down as if it were a throne.
"She's good at trying too hard to be good." the girl replied. "Understandable, since her mom is T.J. Tyler."
"The T.J. Tyler?" Mitchie's eyes windened in amaizement as she turned to look at the girl. "She's got like, a trilion Grammys."
"A trillion and one, I think. Hi, I'm Caitlyn. Camper today, top-selling music producer tomorrow." She clicked a few buttons on the laptop resting on her knees, and music poured from the speakers, "Check me out."
"Cool. I'm Mitchie."
They were interupted by the sound of someone tapping on a microphone. Camp Rock's peppy music director had tsken the stage. Everyone fell silent.
"Hi, gange!" she said cherily. "I'm Dee La Duke."
"Hi, Dee." the crowd chimed, slightly less enthusiastically.
"Uh-huh. Here at Camp Rock, we SIIIING!" Dee hit a high note. "So let's hear that again," she said, cupping her hands to her ear.
"Hiii, Deee," the campers sang, imitating her.
Dee grinned, pleased. "Sounds good. A little pitchy in places, but we'll fix that before Final Jam."
Dee's reference to Camp Rock's huge, last-night singing competition brought cheers from the campers. Barron James, a fifteen year old with a reputation for mischief, and Sander Loya, his best friend and partner in crime started impromptu jam.
Dee smiled from the stage, excited at the kids' enthusiasm. "Okay," she said, quieting everyone again. "This summer isn't all about Final Jam. We've got a lot of work to do. You are going to leave this camp with new music skills. You are going to find your sound and create your own style, figure out who you want to be as an artist, but overall, HAVE FUN!" Taking a deap breath, she added, "And........drumroll, please."
Andy the drummer started tapping on the stage with his sticks. Dee cleared her throat and looked at him sideways. He stopped.
"For the first time," she continued, "we're are going to be joined during camp by a very special celebrity instructor....."
At that very moment, the "special" celebrity instructor was getting a surprise of his own.
"I don't want to waste my summer at some camp!" Shane Gray barked at Nate and Jason, the other members of his band, Connect Three.
Shane was, no doupt, a bona fide pop star. But he also had a growing chip on his shoulder. He's learned the hard way that with fame came pressure. He barely noticed the beauty of the rolling landscape outside the tinted windows of his limo.
"Hey, we used to love that place!" Nate arhued. Nate was the leader of the group, a position he was not relishing at the moment. "Three years ago, we were campers."
"Yeah, man, it's where Connect Three....connected," piped Jason in his usual laid-back voice.
Shane still wasn't buying it, so Nate tried a diferent appraoch. "You get to see your Uncle Brown."
"Uh, not a selling point," Shane shot back.
Nate understood that his bandmate wasn't thrilled, but he had had enough. "Look, man, you're the bad boy in the press, and the label has a problem with that, which means we have a problem with that." When Shane didn't say anything, Nate went on. "This camp thing is supost to fix that. So do your time. Enjoy the fresh air. Get a tan." He laughed at his own joke as the limo came to a stop.
"Ooh, and make me a birdhouse or something," Jason added.
Shane shot back an icy glare. "One word: payback."
"Hey, thats two words," Jason mistakenly pointed out as Shane grabbed the duffel at his feet and opened the door. Still fuming, Shane got out and slammed it behind him.
A moment later the window rolled down and Nate's head poped out. "By the way," he said, a smile tugging at his lips, "We told the press you'd be recording a duet with the winner of Final Jam." With a laugh, the window rolled uo, and the limo drove a way. Shane was stuck at Camp Rock.
Mitchie stared at the large mound of cold, sticky ground beef on the kitchen counter. A stack of hamburger paties was already piled high before her. She sighed and tore of another hunk of meat.
"I hear there's an open mike tonight," her mom said, diligentaly peeling potatoes beside her.
"Yeah," Mitchie confermed, glumly patting the beef between her palms.
"Are you going to sing?" she pressed.
Mitchie raised an eyebrow. "In front of all those people? No way!"
"Sweetie, I hear you in your room. You're really good." she held up two fingers in the Boy Scout salute. "Mon's honor. You gotta believe in yourself. And if your nervous, so what? Everyone is nervous." Whan Mitchie didn't respond, her mother went on. "That's why I'm making so much food tonight. People eat when ther're nervous.
Mitchie looked queasily at the pile of raw meat. "Not me. I don't think I can eat another hamburger. Ever."
Her mother took the half-made hamburger from Mitchie's hands. "Why don't you take the trash to the Dumpster and then set up in the mess hall?"
Mitchie smiled thankfully, wiped her hands on her dirty apron, and swung the ripe garbage bags over her shoulder. She was halfway down the path to the garbage bins when she heard singing. The voice was loud and coming from one of the cabins. Her curiosity getting the better of her, Mitchie tiptoed to the cabin and pressed her nose to the window screen.
Inside, Tess was belting out a song at the top of her lungs. It was good, but Mitchie couldn't help thinking it was overdone. Caitlyn had been right; Tess was trying too hard. Behind her, Peggy and Ella threw in a few "ooohs" and "ahhhs." Suddenly, Tess stopped singing.
"Work with me here, people!" She sighed in exasperation.
Peggy put her hand on her hip. "Hello! We're trying. But your just so-"
Tess glared at her, "Excuse me. I am the one with the Grammys. Well, my mom is." She tried to glide over that fact. "But she mentioned me in her acceptance spech. If we want to rock tonight at open-mike night, you guys have to listen to me. Let's do it again." Tess failed to mention the other reason she was pushing her backup singers- Shane Gray. Ever since Dee had mentioned he was going to be a guest councelor, Tess had been determined to get his attantion. And open-mike was her first chance.
Outside, Mitchie, realizing how bad it would look if someone saw her, started to back away from the window and tripped on a rock. She fell to the ground, ripping one of the garbage bags and spiling trash everyhwere.
"Great," she wispered and struggled to her feet. That was going to leave a bruise.
Across camp, Shane had his cell phone glued to his ear.
"Come on guys!" he pleaded to his bandmates. "I learned my lesson. I showered in cold water. I looked at a tree. It's been eight hours. I need hair product."
On the other end of the line, Nate stifled a snort. "I guess it's time to embrace the natural look," he joked. Then he hung up on Shane.
Grumbling, Shane shoved the phone into his pocket. When he loked up, he found a pack of screaming girls headed straight for him.
"There he is!" the girls screeched, practically tearing their hair out. "Shane! Shane!"
"Great," he muttered. They'd found him........
The Music Mess Hall of Fame looked like any camp cafeteria, except for the signed guitars, old concert posters, and rock T-shirts tacked to the walls.
At the end of the long room, a mackshift stage had been erected. A banner above it read, OPENING NIGHT JAM. Mitchie placed the last set of utensils on the table, and then paused. Glancing around to make sure no one was loking, she climbed onstage. She stood, dreamily imagining an adoring audience hanging on her every note. Pulling out her journal, which was in her apron, she began to sing. Nervously at first, then with cinfidence, her voice filled the room. It was a song about being more than everyone sees, about finding your voice even when you're afraid. Her voice rose higher and higher.
Outside, Shane was fleeing the pack of crazed fans. He quickly ducked behind some bushes beside the mess hall as the girls ran screaming past him. Realived, he sat back and sighed.
Was that someone singing inside? He cocked his head to listen. It was. Shane closed his eyes so he could concentrate on the lyrics. They were good-really good! and so was whomever was singing them.
When the coast was clear, Shane emerged from the bushes and swung through the mess hall's screen door. "Hello?" he called out. "Who's in here?"
But the stage was empty.
Chapter 5 \
Inside her cabin, Mitchie rifled madly through her duffel bag while her mother looked on in amusement.
"I've got all the food set up," Connie said, trying not to smile. "So you, princess, are free."
"Gotta find something to wear first," Mitchie said as she dug through her wrinkled T-shirts and jeans.
"Honey, it's camp, not a fashion show."
Mitchie stopped and looked at her mom. "Have you seen these kids? My usual is not going to cut it."
Connie's brow furrowed. "I think you're cute. In a non-mom way. Totally."
Mitchie ignored her and pulled out a simple shirt. "This," she said holding it up. "This is safe."
"It's also mine." her mother answered. "Honey," she urged, "wear your clothes. Be yourself. You'll be fine."
Mitchie gave her a look, then pulled the shirt over her head.
The open-mike night was going strong as Mitchie watched quietly from the back. She had belted her mom's shirt and was actually pleased with her outfit, but that hadn't helped her confidence. She was nervously tapping her foot to the bass when Caitlyn walked over. A pretty girl with obvious stage presence was beside her.
"Hey," Mitchie said.
"Hey," Caitlyn said with a smile. Nodding at the girl next to her, she added, "This is Lola. Lola, Mitchie."
The three girls chatted for a few moments. Then Dee announced the next performer-Lola Scott. Smiling, Lola said good-bye and took the stage. A moment later, her voice had captured everyone's attantion.
"WOW!" Mitchie gasped. "She's amazing."
"Yeah," Caitlyn agreed. "She should be. Her mom's on Broadway."
"Broadway? Wow."
Caitlyn nodded and leaned back against the wall. "But the kids around here don't care about that. It's all about the bling. Thats why Tess runs the camp."
Mitchie looked over at Tess and they made eye contact. Tess and her posse started to walk over
"Great." Caitlyn rolled her eyes. " Something wicked this way comes."
"Hey Caitlyn," Tess said with a smirk, sidling up to them, " your folks still wowing 'emon the cruise ships?"
Ella and Peggy laughed.
"Actually, they work in-----" Caitlyn began to defend her family, but Michie cut her off.
" Hi, I'm Mitchie," she said.
Tess turned and eyed Mitchie. " Oh. Hi," she replied. "I'm Tess Tyler."
"I know. I love your mom," Mitchie gushed.
So much for playing it cool on her first night at camp. Beside her,
Caitlyn held back a groan as she stepped out of earshot. Apparently, she couldn't watch-or hear-this.
"Of course you do," Tess said, her lips curling in a smile.
"I'm Mitchie Torres." Inwardly, Mitchie groaned. Why had she introduced
herself again?
Peggy brightened. "Hey, is your dad Nicky Torres, the composer? My dad staged one of his shows."
Suddenly, Tess was more interested. "Is he?"
Mitchie squirmed. "No."
"Oh," Tess replied curtly.
"So what does he do?" Ella asked, smacking her gum.
"He owns a hardware store," Mitchie answered softly.
"Let's go," Tess said to Peggy and Ella. After all, without any connections, Mitchie wasn't really worth talking to, Tess thought.
In that split second, Mitchie made a desision. This summer, she could be whomever she wanted to be.... even a Queen Bee. "But my mom..." she started.
"Yes?" Tess said skeptically, half-turning to face her again.
"She's uh...... the president of Hot Tunes TV....uh, in China. Huge market there." As soon as th words were out of her mouth, she wanted to take them back. But it was too late.
"Wow. Cool," said Tess, completely turning to Mitchie now.
"So cool." Ella chimed in.
"Major cool."Peggy nodded.
Tess loked between Peggy and Ella. "Are you guys thinking what I'm thinking?" she asked.
"Absolutely." Both girls nodded eagerly. There was a pause, Then ela asked, "Wait. What are we thinking?"
Tess rolled her eyes at Ella and turned to Mitchie. "There's an extra bed in our cabin. It's yours if you want it."
"Really?" Mitchie asked, delighted at her change of fortune.
"Totally. We're going to be great friends. Come on, sit with us in the VIP section." Tess grabbed Mitchie by the arm and dragged her off, leaving Caitlyn behind.
"I'm good," Caitlyn said sarcasticaly as she watched the new "friends" walk away. "Thanks for asking."
Connie was poring through one of the cookboks stacked on her bed, when Mitchie returned to the cabin after diner.
"Can you believe," her mother said, without loking up, "not one these cookbooks has a recipe for chili for three hundred?" She took off her glasses and frowned.
"You don't need a recipe," Mitchie said happily. "Everyone loves your food. It's official."
"Really?" Connie smiled.
"Camper's honor," Mitchie replied.
"So how was open mike? Did you sing?"
"No.... but I met some girls," Mitchie said cautiously.
Her mother brightened.
"And," Mitchie began, trying not to sound giulty. "They want me to move ito their cabin. I know I have to help in the kitchin, but I'll just get up earlier, Met you here, and......."
"Sweetie," her mom said with a smile, "of course you can move into the cabin. It'll be fine. Now, I'd better get back to these cookbooks. I've got a rep to protect."
Tess bit her manicured fingernails as she paced the Vibe Cabin and waited on hold on her cell phone. On her bed, Peggy strummed her guitar absently while Ella worked on something equally importent-- her nails.
"You guys, which color?" Ella asked, holding up two bottles of pink polish.
Peggy, who had stopped plucking her guitar at Tess's instence, looked up. "Ella, they are exactly the same."
"So you see my dilemma?" Ella said in earnest.
Suddenly Tess perked up and stopped pacing. "Mom, hey!.... Yes, I'm totally settles in. Guess what? Shane Gray is....." Her face fell. "Yeah, you can call me back. Love you, too. Have a good concert."
Tess hung up and for a moment looked as if she might burst into tears. That, or throw her phone across the room. "As usual," she muttered under her breath.
"What, Tess?" Ella asked, pausing over a nail.
Insted of explaining, Tess changed the subject. "My mom says maybe she can get us primo tix to her next concert."
Ella and Peggy clapped at the news just as Mitchie entered the cabin, her duffel bag and guitar case slung over her shoulders. "Hey, guys!" she called, slightly out of breath from the walk over. "Which bed is mine?"
Tess pointed to Peggy's. There was no arguing. Peggy would be moving.
Mitchie plopped her bag on the bed and started to unpack.
Tess peared over her shoulder. "One bag? You can't possibly have all your clothes in there."
"Uh..... right." Mitchie panicked. "Well, I threw a lot of my clothes away."
Mitchie turned to find Tess going through her duffel bag. She held up one of Mitchie's old holey T-shirts. "And you kept this?" Tess asked.
"Uh, yeah," Mitchie replied. "It camne from China. A little boutique called..... Xin Xia Ji." Thank goodness for Seirra's Mandarine skills, she thought.
"Wow," Peggy said, admiring the shirt. Then, "What does that mean?"
"'Happy summer,'" Mitchie said. "The store is the bomb." Mitchie was eager to bring the subject back to tess. "Wow, that is a really cool bracelet!"
"It's from my mom," Tess replied, holding up the charm bracelet and admiring hot it loked on her wrist. "Every time she wins a Grammy, she adds a charm."
"Totally bling-a-licious," mitchie said as she continued to unpack. She pulled out her song journal, and then quickly tucked it away.
But Peggy noticed. "Is that your diary?"
Mitchie hesitated before answering. "My songs," she finally explained.
"You write songs?" Tess asked, plopping down on Mitchie's bed.
"Yeah, but they're probably not that good."
"I bet ther're good!" Peggy cried. "Let's hear one!"
Mitchie shook her head as Tess grabbed the journal and started flipping through the half pages. "Why not?" Tess asked. "We're friends now, right?"
Mitchie hesitated for a moment. "Well..... okay," she stammered. Clearing her throat, she started to sing her most recent song, the one she had belt out in the mess hall.
Embarrassed, Mitchie stopped after three verses. "It's not that good," she said, looking away.
Peggy gave Mitchie a look that said she was crazy. "What? It was totally good. Right, Tess?"
"Totally," Tess agreed in a voice as sweet as a piece of apple pie. Then she tossed the book back to Mitchie--a bit harded than necessary.
Chapter 6
It was early, and the soft, hazy light of dawn was just begining to filter through the cracks in the walls of the Vibe Cabin. Outside, it was quiet except for the sounds of chirping birds.
The silence was abruptly pierced by the muffled ring of Mitchie's alarm clock. Mitchie shoved her hand under her pillow to silence the buried clock. She looked around. Ella stirred slightly but fell back to sleep.
The coast clear, Mitchie jumped from her bad, grabbed some cloths, and began to tiptoe past the sleeping girls. Accidentally, her knee bumped Ella's cot.
Ella raised her head, her eyes squinty. "Mitchie?"
"Uh....you're dreaming.......you're a rock princess," Mitchie whispered in a soothing voice.
This pleased Ella, who smiled sleepily. "Okay, I rock," she said before her head dropped heavily back onto her pillow.
Mitchie let out a sigh of relief and made her way out of the cabin and down the path to the kitchen. She had work to do.
A short while later, a line of hungry campers snacked around the mess hall. Slipping out the back unnoticed, Mitchie made her way around to the front, where she joined the impatient throng. Entering the big room, she searched the crowd. loking for a place to sit. She finally spotted an empty seat at a table with Caitlyn, Lola, Barron, and Sander. Catching her eye, Barron waved her over.
"Hey," she said sliding in next to Caitlyn.
"Slumming, I see?" Caitlyn said.
"What?" Mitchie asked, confused by Caitlyn's cool tone.
At that moment, Tess, Peggy, and Ella came through the mess-hall doors. They spotted Mitchie.
"Hey Mitchie!" Tess called loudly. "Over here!"
Mitchie glanced over at Caitlyn.
"You'd better go." Caitlyn snickered. "The queen awaits." Then, as Mitchie stood up, Caitlyn asked, "Your music? Are you any good?"
Mitchie didn't know how to answer the question. "I don't know." She shrugged modestly. "Maybe. Kinda."
Caitlyn nodded. "Word of advice," she said. "If you want to be friends with Tess, don't be."
By now, Tess was gesturing and yeling louder at Mitchie from across the mess hall.
"See ya around," Caitlyn said coldly.
Not knowing what to say, Mitchie left. Once at Tess's table, Mitchie immediately got interrogated. "What happened to you this morning?" asked Tess suspiciously.
"Early riser," Mitchie answered quickly. "Yum, toast!" She grabbed a peice of plain toast and stuffed it in her mouth before Tess could ask any more questions.
Meanwhile, someone else's alarm clock had not gone off. Shane hadn't even set it. Insted, he was rudely awakened by his uncle riping off his blankets.
"What the..........? What?" Shane grumbled.
"Rise and shine, superstar," Brown said as his nephew groaned and buried his head under the pillow. "Mate, don't make me do this." When Shane made no attempt to get up, Brown picked up a glass of water and threw it on him.
"Hey!" Shane shouted, sitting bolt upright. "I'm up! I"m up!"
"We both have classes to teach," said Brown. "Yours starts in five minutes."
In one of the Camp Rock activity rooms, rows of folding chairs had been set up to face a large piano. Sitting in the front with Tess, Ella, and Peggy, Mitchie couldn't help but feel cool. In another part of the room, Lola and some of her friends were playing around before class, singing and hitting various keys on the piano.
Lola struck one, then became flustered. "Was that a D-flat or a D-sharp?" she asked, looking between her friends.
Tess overheard and leaned over to whisper in Peggy's ear. "She's gotton really good since last year."
Caitlyn, sitting a row behind them, overheard. "What? are you scared?"
"Of catching your lack of fashion sence?" Tess didn't miss a beat with her insults. "I'm horrified."
Caitlyn smirked and turned away.
"Has anyone actually seen Shane Gray?" Mitchie asked, glancing around the filled chairs.
"You know," Peggy said, popping a peice of gum in her mouth, "this is the class where he devloped his sound."
Mitchie's eyes grew wide. Camp is so cool.
Ela, meanwhile, was distracted once again. "Het guys, is my lip gloss losing its gloss?"
Impatiently, Andy began beating his desk with his drumsticks. Barron and Sander joined in. They were so caught up in the music that they didn't even notice Brown walk in.
"Woah," he said, the sound hitting him. "If the class is rickin', I'm glad i came knockin'."
The kids laughed, and everyone settled down.
"So, let's hear what we're working with," Brown said to the rows of campers. "Who wants to sing first? How about................"He scanned the room as every single hand went up--except for Mitchie's. "You?"
"Me?" Mitchie asked, glancing behind her. "Can't argue with the finger," Brown teased. Mitchie hesitated.
"I'll do it," Tess quickly interjected.
Brown didn't take his eyes off Mitchie. He shook his head. "Nope. The finger picked her."
Mitchie was way uncomfortable now. "Um..... okay...." she stammered She stood up and turned to face the room.
"Let 'er rip," Brown said encouragingly. He crossed his arms over his chest and waited.
Mitchie tok a beat, and then started to sing very softly.
"I know you're singing a solo," Brown said, "but it's so low, I can't hear you. Louder."
Mitchie nodded and sang louder. Truth be told, she was good, very good. Everyone, even Brown, was impressed.
"She's great," Ella whispered to Tess and Peggy.
Tess shot her sidekick a look. She was not happy.
"Not bad, not bad," Brown said when Mitchie's song was over. "Is that an origanal?"
Mitchie felt her cheeks flush as she looked shyly down at her flip-flops. "Yeah. It's mine, but--"
"No buts," Brown countered. "It's good."
Smiling, Mitchie sat back down. Things were definately off to a great start.
* * *
"I didn't know you were that good," Peggy said after class. "You totally rocked it!"
"Totally!" Ella agreed, making Mitchie blush.
Tess, who had been oddly quiet since Mitchie's preformance, finally spoke up."So, I've thinking.............. you have to sing with us in the Final Jam. Your vocals in the background would be like, amaizing. We never let people in our group. But you? A must. Want in?"
