Rachel tried to blink open her eyes, but the throbbing in her head made it almost impossible. Ouch. She attempted to sit up. Rachel gingerly rubbed the large bump that was now beginning to form on her forehead. How long had she been out for? She scanned her bedroom for a clock but didn’t see one immediately.
She and Kurt must have hit their heads really hard if someone was able to bring her all the way back home without waking her up. Wait a second—home? Her bedroom? Rachel looked around again, as if it were all going to crumble to dust at any second. Did she miss the jet? Where was the jet?
She blinked hard, finally sitting up. Her eyes landed on her Wicked calendar on the wall. That was her calendar from last year! The little green x’s she’d made as a countdown to the end of the school year seemed to say there was still a little less than a week left to go. Her brand-new Patti Lupone ceramic bust lay broken on the ground next to where she was sitting. And all around her, glittery tissue paper littered the floor.
Panic overtook her as Rachel suddenly realized that she couldn’t feel her toes. Upon closer inspection, it looked as if they had lost all circulation because of some ridiculously painful shoes she had on. Thank goodness for that. She ripped each shoe off violently and threw them across the room. She wiggled her toes, and the tingly feeling began to dissipate. Ahhh, that’s better.
Da-dum! Da-dum! A strange noise came from somewhere. What was that? It sounded really familiar, but Rachel couldn’t seem to make sense of anything. It all looked so fuzzy…. Da-dum! There it was again. She looked around. It sounded like… an instant message?
Rachel stood up and ran over to her computer. Sure enough, a chat window blinked like a strobe light. Several messages awaited her from someone with the screen name Sharkfinn5. It was Finn! Rach, I’m really sorry about the way things went at dinner tonight, Finn wrote. If you want to go to dance class and stuff, I’m cool with it. You don’t have to do the dumb camp thing with all of us. Then he’d obviously gotten worried when she hadn’t responded. You there? Rach? Rachel? Are you still mad at me?
So… she was in her bedroom in Lima. The calendar on the wall was from last year. And Finn was talking to her! Finally, Rachel was lifted out of her haze. All of a sudden, she came to the stunning realization that it had been an extremely long, horrible, stressful dream. Whoa. More like a nightmare, actually. But it was all over!
Sure it’d had its winning moments—like the private jet—but Rachel Berry had never been so happy to be in her own bedroom again. This was the best she’d felt in forever, even with a head injury. She knew exactly what to do now, and she felt so lucky that she still had a chance to make things right. Rachel didn’t want to miss a single thing this summer or next year in Glee Club. Fame and fortune could wait. At least for a little bit.
Finn’s chat window still flashed, violently demanding a response.
I’m back! she wrote. And you were right—the camp sounds like a blast. I can’t wait to hang out with you guys and a bunch of kids all summer. Career can wait for once.
She heard the door slam downstairs.
“Rachel! We’re home!” her dad Hiram yelled up the stairs.
“We bought sorbet! Come down and have some!” her dad Leroy added.
“Be there in a second!” she hollered back, brimming with anticipation to run down and see them and never let them go. She just had one more thing to do. She clicked on the document titled rachel’s star power summer! and hit the delete button without a single shred of hesitation.
Then Rachel ran downstairs. She had an appointment to have dessert with her two biggest fans.
twenty
Choir room, Tuesday morning
There he was. Standing by the piano, wearing a navy pinstripe vest and looking over some stacks of sheet music. Rachel couldn’t express how relieved and happy she felt when she saw Mr. Schuester back at his normal post, looking the same as he always had. His curly hair was combed (though Coach Sylvester would claim otherwise), and he was tapping his foot to some invisible song in his head. He was probably planning a new song for them to sing at the rally. Mr. Schuester never gave up on trying to find the best music for them. Rachel could tell how much he loved and appreciated each member of New Directions.
And Rachel appreciated him, too.
“Mr. Schuester!” Rachel barged into the room, a wide, cheesy smile plastered on her face.
Mr. Schuester raised his left eyebrow suspiciously. Usually that look meant that Rachel had some crazy idea that he was going to have to find a nice way to shoot down.
“Yes, Rachel?”
“I just wanted to tell you to rip up that schedule I gave you. You won’t be needing it anymore.”
Mr. Schuester rolled his eyes. “Why?… Are you giving me a revised copy?”
Rachel shook her head. “I’ve decided to join everyone as camp director for the McKinley High Summer Youth Music Camp!”
Mr. Schuester was genuinely impressed. Rachel Berry never canceled her plans for anything or anyone. Unless it was Andrew Lloyd Webber. She would definitely cancel something for him.
“That’s fantastic, Rachel! The kids are going to be happy to have you! And so are we.” Mr. Schuester gave her a hug. “I’m really proud of you.”
“I’m proud of me, too,” she said with a wink, and took her seat.
Ten minutes later, everyone sat around and listened as Rachel told them the news. They were all really excited, until Rachel began to list her massive agenda as camp director—a position to which she hadn’t even been elected yet.
“Well, I have this idea for a number involving starfish costumes….”
“Sounds awesome,” Brittany whispered, looking much more normal now that she was in her Cheerios uniform.
Mr. Schuester butted in. “Guys, we have plenty of time to plan and discuss this later. But now, let’s go show those future campers what New Directions is made of!”
After they’d performed a rockin’ rendition of Miley Cyrus’s “Party In The U.S.A.” for a packed gym and an adorable group of elementary school kids, Rachel was feeling pretty fantastic. She had a summer full of fun and singing with her friends ahead of her, and an entire year to go before she had to get serious about her career. Life was pretty good. Just when she thought things couldn’t get any better, a little red-haired girl in a purple dress ran up to her.
“You sing really pretty!” she said, eyes wide with admiration. Rachel bent down and took the little girl’s hand.
“Aw, thank you so much! What’s your name?”
The little girl smiled. “I’m Megan. Megan Smithson.”
Rachel smiled devilishly and put a hand on Megan’s shoulder. “Megan, how would you like me, Rachel Berry, to give you private singing lessons?”
Contents
Front Cover Image
Welcome
One: Rachel Berry’s bedroom, Monday morning
Two: McKinley High entrance, Monday morning
Three: Choir room, Monday afternoon
Four: Breadstix restaurant, Monday evening
Five: Lima Allen County Airport, Monday evening
Six: Interior of jetBerry plane, at some point in the future, Monday afternoon
Seven: Chateau Lima Hotel, Monday evening
Eight: Principal Figgins’s office, Tuesday morning
Nine: Hallway outside choir room, Tuesday afternoon
Ten: McKinley High gymnasium, later Tuesday afternoon
Eleven: Lima TV news station, Wednesday morning
Twelve: Chateau Lima, Wednesday night
Thirteen: Principal Figgins’s office, Thursday morning
Fourteen: McKinley High gymnasium, before the rally, Thursday afternoon
Fifteen: Choir room, minutes before the rally, Thursday afternoon
Sixteen: McKinley High gymnasium, end-of-year rally, Thursday afternoon
Seventeen: McKinley High hallway, after the performance, Thursday afternoon
Eighteen: Lima Youth Center, Thursday afternoo
n
Nineteen: Rachel’s bedroom, present day, Monday night
Twenty: Choir room, Tuesday morning
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Copyright
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Copyright
Copyright © 2011 Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation
GLEE TM & © Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation. All rights reserved.
Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Hachette Book Group 237 Park Avenue, New York, NY 10017 For more of your favorite series, visit our website at www.pickapoppy.com Poppy is an imprint of Little, Brown and Company. The Poppy name and logo are trademarks of Hachette Book Group, Inc.
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The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.
First eBook Edition: July 2011
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
ISBN: 978-0-316-19065-7
Summer Break Page 16