Going Platinum,

by Helen Perelman

  “Not now,” Mitchie answered, smiling broadly. Suddenly she felt like she could breathe again. Shane and Faye were history. And she and Shane were solid. She almost giggled with relief. Instead, she changed the subject. “But I am nervous about the tryouts for Brown’s birthday. I haven’t won a jam yet. I’d really love to be one of the performers Friday night.”

  A smile spread across Shane’s handsome face. “With your song, you have an excellent chance,” he said. “I’ve got to run up to the office. I’ll catch you later, okay?”

  “You bet,” Mitchie said, waving good-bye. She swung her guitar over her shoulder and rushed to her dance class, humming her song the whole way. Things were looking up.

  CHAPTER

  FIVE

  The next morning, the vibe on the stage by the lake was a little different than it had been the previous day. Instead of reading magazines, gossiping, and suntanning, most of the campers had gathered to rehearse their songs before Dee arrived.

  Peggy tapped her foot and tried to stay calm. She hoped that Dee would hurry up. She didn’t want to lose her nerve!

  Mitchie was just as nervous. She was pacing up and down the sandy lakefront area.

  “Hey, Mitchie, are you ready?” Caitlyn called, running up to her friend.

  “I don’t know,” Mitchie answered. “There’s so much pressure!”

  Caitlyn grabbed her hand. “You are going to be fine. More than fine. Your song is amazing. You had everyone talking yesterday.” She smiled encouragingly. “You’re really good, Mitchie. This jam is yours. First, you just need to get past Dee.”

  Hugging her guitar, Mitchie looked at Caitlyn. “Thanks,” she said. “I appreciate the support.”

  “Hey, Dee is here!” Lola shouted. She waved her arms to get Mitchie and Caitlyn’s attention. “Come on, let’s get this party started!”

  Dee was walking up the path with Shane. They were talking and laughing as if nothing special was about to happen. Mitchie took a deep breath as the two took their seats. This was a moment she’d been waiting for . . . it was her chance to shine with all the stars at Camp Rock.

  “All right, folks,” Dee called. “I have the list here from Shane, so let’s start. I’ll listen to all the songs and let you know the results at dinner tonight. The top four singers will head to the theater for rehearsal directly after dishes are cleaned.”

  “We are so there!” Sander said as he traded a high five with Barron.

  Peggy twisted a strand of her long black hair around her finger. She wished that she felt as confident as Barron and Sander. She sat a little taller in her seat and tried to concentrate on her breathing. I am Margaret Dupree, she said to herself. I can do this! When it was finally her turn, she began to sing. At the end of the song, Dee wrote comments without looking up from her clipboard. Peggy walked back to her seat and let out a deep sigh. She had done it. Now she would just have to wait and see.

  “Mitchie Torres, you’re next,” Dee said.

  Mitchie took her spot onstage. She put her hand on the neck of the guitar and began to pluck out the first notes. Glancing up, she caught Shane’s eye. He winked at her, and suddenly she felt a surge of confidence. This was her place, her time. She began to sing.

  When she was finished, Dee wrote more notes. What did Dee think? Mitchie wondered as she put her guitar back in the case. Fingers crossed, she slid next to Caitlyn to listen to the others perform.

  Mitchie stared at the afternoon light sparkling off the lake. In a few hours, she’d know if she was going to be one of the final four to perform. She pulled her brown hair up into a ponytail. It was going to be a long day.

  The mess hall was extraloud that night. It was the eve of Shane’s big party and B’s Jam—no one could be quiet.

  Finally, after everyone had eaten, Dee got up and took the microphone. “As I’m sure you know, I’ve got an announcement,” she shouted to the crowd. In record time, the room grew quiet. Dee smiled. “That’s more like it,” she remarked. She held up her clipboard and without further ado, read the names of the finalists.

  “Peggy, Sander and Barron, Lola, and Mitchie,” she said. “You have all been chosen for the annual B’s Jam tomorrow night. As I told you earlier, rehearsals are in the theater directly after dinner.”

  As soon as Dee was done, Mitchie leaped out of her seat. Turning, she hugged her friends and then caught Shane’s eye. He gave her a thumbs-up. Mitchie smiled.

  “We’re in!” Lola squealed. She grabbed Mitchie’s and Peggy’s arms. “Can you believe we are all in this together? Wild!”

  Peggy was in shock! She had not moved since her name was called. Finally, the words sunk in, and she let out a squeal. Making it to the finals in B’s Jam was almost as great as winning Final Jam. “We’re in! We’re in!” she chanted.

  From her seat, Tess grumbled. “Whatever,” she said, shrugging. “Who wants to be in an acoustic jam anyway?”

  “I thought you did,” Ella said, skillfully applying her lip gloss without the aid of a mirror.

  Tess shot her an evil look and stormed out of the mess hall.

  Peggy had to smile at Tess’s dramatic exit. Her song had been typical—over the top and showy. For B’s Jam, it didn’t fit. Of course, Tess didn’t see things that way. She was always supposed to win.

  After all the dishes were cleared away, Peggy, Lola, Sander, Barron, and Mitchie ran over to the theater. It was great to be back in the space where Final Jam had taken place. Mitchie felt like she was floating.

  Dee was waiting for the performers at center stage.

  “Congratulations,” Dee said. “You all wrote amazing songs. I believe that this is going to be one of the best jams we’ve had. I’m really excited.”

  “Me, too!” Peggy shouted.

  “So let’s pick numbers out of this hat to see the order.” Dee held out a Camp Rock baseball cap and passed it around. “We’ll run through each of your songs tonight so you get a feel for the place and its acoustics without any other instruments or synthesizers.”

  After they each picked a number, the order was decided. Peggy would go first, then Barron and Sander, Lola next, and Mitchie last. Peggy and Lola were both playing piano, and Sander and Barron weren’t using any instruments. Mitchie was the only one with a guitar.

  They ran through the first two songs.

  Since everyone else was still at the evening activity, the theater was quiet. There were only rows of empty benches. But as Mitchie got up, Shane walked in and sat down on one of the side benches. Mitchie was relieved to see him. His presence gave her confidence. She had just opened her mouth to sing when there was a commotion at the door. A few people were walking in from outside. Dee went over to ask them to keep quiet.

  “Go ahead, Mitchie,” Shane called out. Mitchie nodded and started singing.

  “And it’s here where I can breathe.

  Where I can be me, and I am free.

  This place, it’s not mine or yours forever.

  But let’s stay and live on borrowed time

  for a while.”

  She kept singing, hoping that her concentration wouldn’t be broken by the commotion. But it was impossible. She lost her place and forgot the words to one of the verses.

  “Keep going, Mitchie,” Dee encouraged. “I’m sorry for this rude interruption.” She glared at the girl and the three men beside her who had disrupted things.

  By then, Shane had stood up. “Faye?” he asked, squinting. “Faye, what are you doing here?”

  Mitchie’s heart slammed against her chest. Faye Hart was here? Already?!

  “I was trying to surprise you!” the pop star shouted. She flicked her long, stick-straight blond hair away from her face. “Who knew that this theater was harder to get into than Cool Jay’s party on the Strip?” She barreled past Dee and went over to embrace Shane. Her strappy, gold high-heeled shoes clicked on the wooden floor.

  Laughing at the girl’s exuberance, Shane gave Faye a big hug hello. But a look from Dee p
revented them from speaking. Without another word, they went and sat down. The three men remained at the back of the theater.

  “I’m so sorry, Mitchie,” Dee said. “Please start at the beginning.” Then she turned to Shane. “And please, no more interruptions.”

  Now Mitchie was feeling not only very nervous but very annoyed. Why was Faye already at camp? The party wasn’t until tomorrow night. And why was she practically sitting in Shane’s lap, drooling all over him?

  When the song was over, Faye leaped to her feet. “That song had such a great vibe to it,” she cooed. “Dean, wasn’t that good?” She turned to one of the three guys now huddled by the door. The tallest one must have been Dean, because he stepped forward.

  “Very cool,” he said. “Good lyrics, and I like the melody.”

  The other two men nodded.

  Faye walked over to Mitchie. “I really loved it. And I want to have it. How much would it cost?” She stood at the edge of the stage grinning sweetly up at Mitchie. Mitchie was pretty sure Faye was somebody who usually got what she wanted.

  Hugging her guitar close to her, Mitchie stared at Faye. “Well, I’m not sure it’s for sale,” she finally replied.

  “What?” Faye squealed. “Oh, come on.” She narrowed her eyes. “Do you know who you’re talking to? Do you know what it would mean if I sang your song?”

  “I’ve got a pretty good idea,” Mitchie mumbled. She jumped off the stage and went over to put her guitar in the case.

  “Hey, Faye,” Shane said, stepping in. “Come on, leave her alone.”

  Annoyed, Faye spun around. Her blue eyes had gone from warm to icy. “I’m serious, Shane. I’m scheduled to perform at your party tomorrow night. I’d love to sing this song. Wouldn’t that be so perfect for me to sing that to you here?”

  Mitchie wanted to shout, No! That would be all wrong! Faye’s sound was full of synthesizers and pulsing dance beats. “This Place” was not her type of song at all.

  “Seriously, I really, really want to have it,” Faye said to Mitchie, switching back to an overly sweet tone. “I think this could make a great single on my new album.”

  The three guys at the door pulled out cell phones as though they could instantly make this request happen.

  “Well, you have until tomorrow morning,” Faye barked when Mitchie didn’t say anything. “I’ll have Dean write up the papers.” Faye tossed her shiny hair from side to side. Then she focused her blue eyes on Shane. “Come on, sweetie, I have some presents for you in my car.” She reached out and grabbed his arm. Before Mitchie could even utter a word, Faye had pulled Shane out of the theater and into the dark night.

  “Whoa,” Barron said, when she was gone. “That was intense.”

  “I can’t believe Faye Hart wants to sing your song, Mitchie!” Peggy exclaimed. “Aren’t you totally psyched?”

  “I don’t know,” Lola said before Mitchie could answer. “That girl looks like trouble to me. And Mitchie’s song is not her style at all. Personally, I think that she just wants Shane to look at her the way he was looking at Mitchie when she was singing it!”

  Mitchie’s jaw dropped. “What?” she asked, wrenching her gaze from the door Shane had disappeared through. Could Lola be right? Was Faye jealous of her? How could that possibly be?

  “Yeah,” Sander said, nodding his head thoughtfully. “I could believe that. But if that girl is going to write a check for the song, I say take it to the bank!”

  Mitchie closed her guitar case and grasped the handle. “It’s not for sale.”

  She walked out of the theater and into the dark night with one thought on her mind: what would be the cost of saying no to Faye Hart?

  CHAPTER

  SIX

  When Mitchie got to breakfast the next morning, Shane wasn’t sitting at his usual table. She sat stirring her cereal around and around in her bowl, watching the door. Completely absorbed in her own world, she barely noticed when Caitlyn slipped onto the bench next to her.

  “Jason and Nate came in early this morning,” Caitlyn told her. She reached over and grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl in front of Mitchie. “Now that Connect Three is here, it’s all about the press and the party. Shane’s sitting on a temporary ‘stage’ in the center of camp. He’s giving interviews—in case you were wondering.”

  “Oh,” Mitchie said, sighing. That explained his absence.

  Caitlyn gave Mitchie’s shoulder a squeeze. She knew her friend was feeling confused. Before lights-out last night, Mitchie had filled her in on the crazy rehearsal and on Faye’s surprise appearance—and offer. “For what it’s worth,” Caitlyn told her now, “I think that you should hear what Faye has to say. You don’t even know what she is offering. It’s just business.”

  “I really don’t want her to sing that song,” Mitchie mumbled. How could she explain? The song was personal. “And my music isn’t ‘just business.’”

  “But it could mean a lot of publicity,” Peggy said, joining their conversation. She slid down the bench closer to Mitchie. “Publicity that people like us can usually only dream about. Caitlyn’s right. You have to at least listen to what Faye has to say.”

  Mitchie knew that her friends had a point. This could be the chance of a lifetime. She pushed her bowl away. “All right,” she said. “I’ll hear what she has to say.”

  “Great!” Caitlyn exclaimed. “Do you want me to go with you? I could be like your agent.”

  Mitchie smiled. “I’d rather you come along as my friend,” she said.

  “You got it!” Caitlyn replied. “We’ll meet after first activity, okay?”

  Mitchie and Caitlyn finished breakfast and said good-bye to Peggy. Walking out of the dining hall, the girls ran right into a mob of reporters. Even though the party wasn’t until that evening, the press was getting a head start. Word of Faye’s early arrival had already leaked, and the whole vibe of the camp had changed. It was suddenly more red-carpet affair than down-home country living.

  Tess was standing under a tree, eagerly answering an interviewer’s questions. Where most of the campers seemed annoyed by the disruption, Tess soaked up the flash of camera bulbs like sunlight.

  “Yes, it’s been great catching up with Faye,” Tess said to one reporter as Mitchie and Caitlyn walked by. “We’ve been friends for years.”

  Giggling, Caitlyn whispered to Mitchie, “Yeah, that’s why Faye hasn’t said a word to her since she arrived!”

  But Mitchie wasn’t paying attention to Tess and her phantom celebrity status; her eyes were focused on the center of camp, where she saw Connect Three being questioned by several reporters. When Shane saw Mitchie, he waved. But when he tried to get up, his manager gave him a stern look and he stayed in his seat.

  “I’ll meet you right here at the end of the class, okay?” Caitlyn said when they arrived outside Keynote, one of the camp’s rehearsal cabins. Mitchie had a guitar class while Caitlyn was heading off for an independent activity.

  “Thanks,” Mitchie said. She was glad to have Caitlyn by her side. She had thought about going to talk to her mom, but Connie was so busy with the party preparations Mitchie hadn’t wanted to bother her. She would have to fill her in later. If Faye did want to buy the song, there was no way Mitchie would sell without her mom’s okay. Sighing, she entered the cabin. Maybe practice would take her mind off things—at least for a little while.

  As promised, Caitlyn was standing right outside Keynote when Mitchie came out.

  “Come on,” Caitlyn said, taking Mitchie’s hand. “Let’s go the back way. I can’t believe how many reporters are here. This place is crawling with them!”

  The girls went through the woods, quickly making their way to the cabin where Faye was rehearsing for her performance.

  “How do you know where to go?” Mitchie asked, amazed that Caitlyn could find her way through the thick bushes and trees with no apparent path.

  “One summer, I had a crush on this guy,” she said, giggling. “I used to spy on him!
And this was the best, and fastest, route!”

  Sure enough, a bunk came into view on the left, right next to the rehearsal cabin where Faye was singing. Mitchie smiled.

  “Nice work,” she said.

  When they walked inside, the girls heard Faye whining to Dean. “What is it with this place? Haven’t they heard of air-conditioning?”

  Mitchie laughed to herself. Maybe Faye and Tess were friends.

  “Oh, great!” Faye shouted when she saw the two girls at the door. “You came! Dean, take the sheet music and see what we’ve got here. Joe, will you do a key check? And Steve, can you get Phil on the phone?”

  The shortest of the three men in black and dark glasses was apparently Steve. He walked over to Mitchie. “Hi,” he said. “Could you go ahead and sing the song again for us. I have to plug in Faye’s manager in New York. He wants to hear you sing it first.”

  “Oh, um . . . Well, I . . .” Mitchie started to stutter. She was here to listen to an offer, not audition the song!

  “Sure, she’ll be ready in a minute,” Caitlyn said, giving Mitchie a push toward the stage. “You can do this,” she assured her as Steve began dialing the number. “Consider it practice for tonight’s jam.”

  A moment later, Steve walked over to Mitchie. “Listen, can you hang out for a little bit? We’ve got to wait for Phil to get off a call. Shouldn’t be too long.”

  Mitchie checked her watch. She had to be in the kitchen in about twenty minutes. Not only did her mom have to serve lunch to the camp today, but she was swamped with making hamburgers and other treats for the growing number of party guests. Mitchie had promised that she’d help out. She hoped this Phil guy would call back soon.

  As Faye paced the room, her shoes clicking and clacking, her entourage followed her. She seems to have everyone wrapped around her finger, Mitchie mused. Does that include Shane? Shaking her head, Mitchie pushed the thought aside.