Camp Rock

by Lucy Ruggles

  “Not here, you don’t,” said Caitlyn. She grabbed Mitchie by the hand and whisked her away.

  The next day, Shane sat on the porch of the director’s cabin, gloomily strumming his guitar. He should have known better. Mitchie had seemed too good to be true because she was.

  Looking up, he saw Brown ambling toward the cabin. What he didn’t see was Tess, who had come to comfort him in his time of need. Catching sight of Brown, she dropped behind and listened, hidden in the shadows.

  “So what happened last night?” Brown asked when he got to the porch.

  “Nothing,” Shane said shortly.

  “It didn’t look like nothing, mate. You looked crushed, pummeled, absolutely destroyed.”

  “I get it, Uncle Brown,” Shane responded.

  He had been there and didn’t need a refresher. “I’m just going to focus on my music. Change my sound. I don’t need to get sidetracked with liking someone too much, anyway.”

  Brown frowned. “Are you still looking for that girl?” he asked.

  Shane gave him a surprised look.

  Brown shrugged. “I’m plugged in to camp gossip.”

  “It’s crazy,” said Shane, still picking at the strings on his guitar. “Her song is stuck in my head.” He sang a few lines and then faded into silence.

  Tess, still hidden in the shadows, furrowed her brow. She’d heard those lyrics before. But where?

  Moments later, Tess was back in her cabin and lifting Mitchie’s mattress from the bed frame. Bingo! Underneath lay Mitchie’s song-book. Tess pulled it out and flipped through the pages. Then she found it—the song Shane had been singing on the porch.

  Tess read through the lyrics once, twice.

  Suddenly, it all made sense. Mitchie was the girl with the voice! But if Shane found out …

  Tess thought for a second. Then she looked at her charm bracelet and back at the book. A sly smile spread across her face. She had a brilliant idea.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  While Tess was scheming, Mitchie and Connie were walking … in silence. Finally Connie spoke. “I didn’t know you felt so ashamed of yourself,” she said sadly.

  “I’m not ashamed,” Mitchie said, and she meant it. “It’s just that for once I wanted to fit in, be popular.”

  “What do you mean?” Connie said, turning to look at her daughter with concern. “You have plenty of friends at home.”

  Mitchie gave her a look. “I have one. And last

  I checked nobody was busting their butts to sit at the lunch table with us. When I got here, I wanted to have a different experience, just once.”

  She thought she’d cried herself dry, but Mitchie started to tear up again.

  “Oh, sweetie,” Connie said, pushing the hair from her daughter’s forehead, “you are so much more than you see. You don’t need to lie about who or what you are.”

  Mitchie gave her a forlorn look. She’d heard this talk before. Heck, she’d written songs about it herself!

  “And I’m not just saying that because I’m your mother,” Connie protested.

  “Mom?”

  “Okay, I admit I am biased. But it’s true! You are talented. Your music speaks to people. People want to listen to you … and it’s not just me and your dad!”

  Mitchie smiled. If only she could believe that.

  * * *

  Campers milled around, waiting for Shane’s dance class to start. He was late … again. They were laughing and still talking about the previous night. Then Mitchie entered, and the studio went silent except for a few muffled laughs.

  Tess turned to Ella but spoke loud enough for Mitchie to hear. “What a joke,” she said, rolling her eyes and turning her back on her old cabin-mate and “friend.”

  As other campers laughed, Mitchie tried to act like she wasn’t bothered, but inside she wanted to die.

  Finally, Shane entered, and the class settled down. “So,” he said, looking at Mitchie before quickly turning away, “Final Jam is coming up and I know you’re all excited.”

  A chorus of “yeps” and “you know its” went up in response.

  “Here is some advice,” continued Shane. “It’s not all about your image. None of it means anything unless people see who you really are.” Now he looked directly at Mitchie. “Your music has to be who you really are. It’s got to say what you feel. Or it doesn’t mean anything.”

  Mitchie lowered her eyes and held back the tears.

  Shane had made his point.

  Later that afternoon, Mitchie picked her way through the crowded mess hall and finally took a seat at the table with Caitlyn, Lola, Barron, and Sander.

  “You know, sitting with the kitchen help is really hurting my rep,” Barron stated.

  Mitchie started to apologize but then Lola spoke up. “What rep?” she asked, joking, and Mitchie breathed a sigh of relief. At least some people were talking to her.

  But then Tess laughed at something from across the room, and Mitchie’s shoulders tensed. “Believe me,” Caitlyn said, “it’s probably not that funny.”

  Abruptly, Tess got up and crossed the room, trailed by Peggy and Ella. She stopped when she reached Mitchie.

  “The chicken was kind of dry,” Tess said in a loud voice. Then, to Mitchie, “Who should I report that to?”

  “Maybe it wasn’t the chicken,” said Lola with an attitude. “Maybe your mouth is dry from all the hot air coming out of it.”

  A few campers raised their eyebrows, but Tess didn’t respond. Instead, she said to Mitchie, “Can you tell your mom to be a little more careful?”

  Her insult successfully delivered, Tess turned to strut away.

  As she watched Tess go, Mitchie found the strength she’d been looking for. She stood up.

  “Tess?” Mitchie said in an unwavering voice. Tess turned and shot Mitchie a look that dared her to say something. “Stop talking to me like that,” Mitchie continued defiantly. “Stop talking to everyone like that. I may be the cook’s daughter, my father may not be rich, but I am a much better person than someone who feels better about herself because she makes everyone else feel bad. And I’ll take that any day.”

  The room had grown silent. Everyone was staring at Tess, whose cheeks were becoming bright pink. But always the consummate actress, she quickly regained her composure.

  “Make something good for dinner,” she hissed. “I’ll be starving after practice. And by the way, if it wasn’t obvious, you’re soout of the group.” Tess tossed her head and turned on her heel to go. Peggy and Ella followed dutifully.

  Behind her, Caitlyn gave Mitchie a warm smile.

  “Then we’ll make our own group,” said Caitlyn.

  Mitchie nodded. She may have lost her social status, but being herself again was worth it.

  A crowd was gathering behind him as Brown stapled a poster to the bulletin board outside the Mess Hall of Fame. In bright letters, it announced something the entire camp had been buzzing about since the first day: FINAL JAM: 5 DAYS.

  For the next few days, camp was filled with the sounds of preparation. Groups sang, danced, drummed, and jumped as they got their groove on for the big jam. Tess, Ella, and Peggy were sweating as they drilled through their choreography. They weren’t getting very far, however, as Tess stopped them every eight counts to chew the other girls out for one mistake or another.

  Two days later, Brown had tacked up a 3 to cover the 5 on the poster. Three days till Final Jam, and on the campgrounds, Sander and Barron were practicing their rapping. In the Vibe Cabin, Tess was still lecturing an annoyed Peggy and Ella on their routine.

  Two more days down, and Brown had replaced the 3 with a 1. It was the day before Final Jam, and Mitchie and Caitlyn quickly put away groceries so they could go practice their routine. When they were done in the kitchen, they went to the lake. They wanted all the practice they could get.

  Later that day, Mitchie and Caitlyn were ready. Back in the kitchen, they were telling Connie a story as they stirred big vats of mac
aroni and cheese. Just then, the door flew open. It was Tess, followed by Brown.

  “I’m sure they have it,” Tess said, pointing an accusing finger first at Mitchie and then at Caitlyn.

  The girls looked at one another, clueless as to what Tess was talking about. “Okay, she has officially lost it,” Caitlyn said.

  “No, I didn’t lose anything,” Tess insisted. “You stole it.”

  “What?” Mitchie asked.

  Connie was just as confused. “What is going on here?” she asked.

  Brown, who had been standing silently while Tess threw accusations, finally stepped forward. Taking a deep breath, he ran a hand over his light brown hair before speaking. “Tess thinks that Mitchie and Caitlyn took her charm bracelet.”

  “What?!” the two girls exclaimed at once.

  Mitchie’s mom shook her head confidently. “I’m sorry, Brown, but the girls would never do such a thing.”

  “Look,” Brown said calmly, “let’s just settle this.” He thought if Tess looked for her “stolen” charm bracelet and could not find it, this would end quickly.

  “But—” Mitchie protested. She hadn’t taken anything!

  Tess was still glaring and pointing at her. “I know it was her. She was lying all summer about who she is. Who knows what else she’d lie about?”

  “Okay,” said Brown, noting Caitlyn’s angry stare and Mitchie’s red cheeks. “We’ll look here first and then in your cabin.”

  “Fine,” Mitchie shrugged.

  “Whatever,” Caitlyn said between clenched teeth.

  Glancing around the cluttered kitchen, Brown finally stepped up to the counter. He began opening drawers filled with utensils and cookware.

  “See, you’re not going to find anything, because we didn’t—” Mitchie started to protest again, but stopped as Brown pulled something shiny from under a stack of cookbooks.

  “That’s my bracelet!” cried a triumphant Tess.

  “There must be some mistake,” said Connie.

  “Like what? I snuck into the kitchen and left an expensive bracelet under a coq au vin recipe?” Tess said sarcastically.

  “Tess, I got this,” Brown said sternly. Turning to Mitchie and Caitlyn, he added, “I am totally wigging out.” His wrinkled brow confirmed his dismay.

  “So are we,” said Mitchie.

  “I’m not,” Caitlyn snapped. She should have known that Tess would stop at nothing to get what she wanted, which was Mitchie out of her hair.

  Brown sighed. “Since it’s the end of camp, I have no choice. I’ve got to ban you guys from the rest of camp activities … until the end of Final Jam.”

  “She’s lying!” Mitchie cried. “We didn’t do anything!”

  “I’m sorry. My hands are tied,” Brown said, sounding sincere. “Until the end of Final Jam,” he repeated. Then, with one last parting look, he left.

  Following behind him, Tess shot the girls an infuriating smirk that said it all. She had done exactly what she had come to do. Mission accomplished.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Finally, the night of Final Jam arrived. All over camp, the sounds of singing, rapping, drumming, and various instruments could be heard—guitars, trumpets, keyboards, fiddles. Everywhere, that is, but in the kitchen, where Mitchie and Caitlyn were busy with another task—filling up ketchup containers. As if missing out on Final Jam wasn’t punishment enough!

  Outside, parents were arriving, greeted by hugs and shouts of “You made it!” and “What took you so long?” Tess stood on the outskirts of the arrival chaos, scanning hopefully for her mother.

  “Tess,” Dee said, coming up behind her.

  “Mom?” Tess turned, a big smile on her face. It disappeared when she saw Dee.

  “Thirty minutes to curtain,” Dee reminded softly. “Chop-chop.”

  “Right,” Tess said. She dropped her disappointed face and put on a huge, forced smile. After all, she had a show to put on.

  In his bedroom, Shane was also preparing for Final Jam. He was sliding his jacket over his shoulders when he heard a knock at the door. A moment later, it swung open and Nate and Jason entered the room.

  “Hey, dude,” Nate said.

  “Guess who?” added Jason.

  Shane paused to give his bandmate a look before answering. “Dude, you’re in the room. I can see you.”

  Jason smiled. Then he pulled the two other guys into a big hug. He had missed the band being together. But after tonight they could go back to rocking again.

  “So, good news,” Nate said when the hugging was over. “The press is here and they’re going to cover the whole night.” He made an imaginary headline with his hands. “The label loves it.”

  Shane nodded. He wasn’t surprised. The label would do anything to get some publicity.

  “Where’s this amazing singer you’ve been looking for?” Jason asked.

  Shane gave him a look. How did Jason know about the girl with the voice?

  “What?” asked Jason, shrugging. “I know things.”

  Shane smiled. His buddy always had a way of surprising him. “I’m hoping to find her tonight,” he said, before turning and leaving the cabin.

  Unfortunately, “the voice” was nowhere near the Final Jam. Mitchie sat by the lake with Caitlyn, throwing rocks that landed with a loud kerplunk. Caitlyn angrily punched a key on her laptop, and music poured from the speakers.

  “This was supposed to be a fun summer of playing music,” Mitchie said, throwing another rock. The disappointment was obvious in Mitchie’s voice. “And all I did was get caught up in Tess’s drama.”

  “It happens.” Caitlyn sighed. “I never saw Brown so harsh.”

  Mitchie nodded. He had been so adamant. “He just kept repeating ‘until the end of Final Jam …’ ” Mitchie said, mimicking the camp director.

  “Uh, I know,” replied Caitlyn, “I was there.” Looking up from her laptop, she saw a gleam in Mitchie’s eye. A gleam that sure didn’t look like defeat.

  Mitchie was up to something. But what?

  Brown stood on the stage of the Final Jam theater, looking out at the crowd of parents and campers. Dee and some of the counselors passed out glow sticks, adding to the fun, party atmosphere. It was going to be a great night.

  Clearing his throat, Brown began, “Okay, campers, friends, family, Camp Rock fans—this is it. Tonight, music history will be made as Camp Rock finds a new Final Jam winner!”

  Cheers went up from the crowd. Some swiveled their glow sticks like spotlights, while others whistled loudly through their fingers.

  “Now, this year, the Final Jam winner will not only get a Camp Rock trophy,” Brown paused for effect, “he or she will get a sweet prize: a chance to record with my nephew, pop star Shane Gray!”

  Once again, the crowd cheered but now the sounds of girls shrieking were mixed in. This was definitely big news. And then Brown dropped another bombshell. He introduced the judges for the evening—Connect Three! The noise rose to a deafening roar.

  Brown waited for everyone to settle before finishing up his intro. “Now, remember,” he said. “Hold up your glow sticks when you hear a song you like.” Everyone waved their bright wands in the air. “All right, let’s kick it into overdrive and get this jam rocking!”

  While Brown got the crowd energized, Tess, Peggy, and Ella were at one side of the stage, still rehearsing. In fact, they were pretty hard to miss in their elaborate costumes. They were practicing a complicated dance move when Tess stopped them with a flick of her wrist.

  “This is not amateur night,” she said sharply. “This is serious.”

  Ella was exasperated. “We did it right!” she protested.

  “No, you didn’t,” Tess shot back. “You never do. I’m trying to win. You may be used to losing, but not me. I’m really tired of taking up the slack.”

  Peggy’s eyes nearly bulged out of her head. She’d had just about enough of Tess Tyler and her drama.

  “Stop telling us what to do!” Peggy
cried.

  “You’re the one who’s ruining everything.”

  Turning her back on Tess, Peggy turned and walked off.

  “Peggy. Come back here!” Tess yelled, her hands on her hips. But Peggy kept walking. Tess turned to Ella. “Who needs her? She was just holding us back.”

  Ella gulped. But then, she straightened up. “You know what?” she said. “Do it yourself. I’m done.” Tess’s face dropped. Turning to go, Ella added, “BTW, your lip gloss is so not glossy anymore.” And with that, she followed Peggy and left a very angry Tess in the dust.

  Outside Caitlyn’s cabin, drama of a different sort was playing out. Mitchie nearly collided with Caitlyn as she ran up carrying a garment bag.

  “You got everything?” Mitchie asked.

  “Yep,” nodded Caitlyn.

  Mitchie’s stomach twisted in nervous knots. “Cool,” she smiled. Her plan was officially in motion.

  * * *

  Once again, Brown took the stage, this time to introduce the first act—the It Girls.

  Taking a deep breath, Tess—minus the other It Girls—walked onto the stage. Scanning the crowd, her eyes stopped on Connect Three’s table. She was about to shoot them a smile when she saw someone else—a glamorous woman, dressed like a movie star, taking her seat in the back row. People started to stir and crane their necks to see her as she stopped to sign autographs.

  Tess’s eyes lit up. “Mom?” she whispered, hardly believing her mother had really made it.

  Reenergized, Tess snapped to and took her opening pose. The music started, and she began her routine, singing and dancing her heart out. Her eyes were glued to her mother in the audience, as if she was performing just for her. Tess jutted her hip, threw up her arm, and then spun and turned, focusing again on her mother … who was checking her cell phone. T.J. scooted out of the row to take a call. She wasn’t even watching Tess anymore.

  Tess deflated. She tried to keep up with the steps she’d practiced a hundred times, but her mind was elsewhere, and she missed a beat. She slipped and fell to the floor.