by James Ponti
Jason and Nate both gleefully turned down the dock and ran to the end. They jumped off side by side and hit the water at the same time.
“I won!” Jason shouted, his mouth full of water as he returned to the surface.
“You did not,” Nate answered. “I won!”
“No you didn’t,” a voice called out to them.
They turned to face Caitlyn, Lorraine, and Ella. The voice belonged to Ella.
“She won,” Ella said, pointing at Caitlyn.
Jason and Nate had been so focused on Shane that they hadn’t noticed that the girls had already passed him.
“Lorraine came in second,” she added. “And I came in third.”
The three girls smiled happily at their sweep of the top spots.
“But fourth is good,” Caitlyn said with a big smile.
Sound Off had been a huge success. While the events had not followed Caitlyn’s plans exactly, they certainly had in spirit. And, though the Vibe team did not finish at the top of the pack, the four girls who made up the team had not only had fun, but also become much better friends.
It had been a day filled with surprises, but perhaps none bigger than what occurred at that night’s awards celebration.
Right after Caitlyn received her award for winning the Big Enchilada—a real giant enchilada, prepared especially for her by Connie—the Golden Drumstick was given out.
“This award,” Brown said, “is given to the camper who has shown the most spirit and best sportsmanship. And this year, it is my great honor to give it to Tess Tyler.”
As Tess stood there in total shock, her teammates hooted and hollered. They might not have won the big events, but their prize was much sweeter. They had figured out how to work together and, better still, be friendly to one another.
Mitchie smiled as she looked around the room. Once again, Camp Rock had given her a day to remember.
By N.B. Grace
Based on “Camp Rock,” Written by Karin Gist & Regina Hicks and Julie Brown & Paul Brown
“Hey, mom, what’s cookin’?” Mitchie Torres asked as she dashed into the Camp Rock kitchen.
Her mother, Connie, turned from the stove and grinned at her daughter. “No matter how many times I hear that joke, it never gets old,” she said drily. “It’s truly amazing.”
Mitchie laughed. “I know it’s an oldie—but you gotta admit, it’s a goody!” She danced over to the refrigerator, her dark brown hair bouncing, and took out a carton of orange juice. As she poured herself a glass, she hummed softly to herself.
She could still hardly believe that she was lucky enough to attend Camp Rock. And when she thought about all the good friends she’d made over the past two sessions— Caitlyn, Peggy, Lola, and Shane—she felt even luckier.
Her spirits were especially high today, because it was a picture-perfect summer morning. The sun was warm, but a cool breeze kept the temperature down. The sky was cloudless and a brilliant blue. Birds were singing cheerfully in the trees. In fact . . .
Mitchie cocked her head to listen more closely. It wasn’t just birds singing! A few campers who had already finished breakfast were hanging out in the B-Note canteen, practicing a song a cappella. Mitchie nodded to herself as she listened. It’s hard to sing without any musical accompaniment and sound good . . . and these singers sounded really good.
Curious, she pushed the kitchen door open and peeked into the dining area. Three girls sitting at a nearby table were the singers. They could have been triplets, Mitchie thought. All three had ponytails (although two of the ponytails were brown and one was blond); all three were wearing identical khaki shorts and white T-shirts; and all three swayed to the beat of the music in a synchronized fashion. As they finished their song, there was a light round of applause from the other campers in the mess hall.
Barron James yelled, “Awesome job, Torie!”
The girl with the blond ponytail smiled and waved a hand in acknowledgment, then said to the other two, “We nailed that one, guys. Do you want to practice ‘Sitting on the Dock of the Bay’ now?”
Her friends nodded.
“Great,” Torie said. “Follow me. . . .”
As they began crooning the classic Otis Redding song, Mitchie closed the door.
“I guess we got some new campers,” she said.
Her mother squirted some soap into the sink full of hot water. “Yes, I heard Brown talking about that last night,” Connie said as she plunged a dirty pan into the sink. “Or maybe I should say, I heard him groovin’ to an extremely enthusiastic beat about how cool it was that he could arrange for some kids to arrive a few days late for the session.”
Mitchie grinned at her mother’s wry tone. Brown Cesario, the director of Camp Rock, had retired from a long career in the music business to become the director of Camp Rock and his high spirits and abundant energy kept the place rockin’. Not to mention his endless tales of musicians he had known and his unique way of working music into any conversation.
“Well, it doesn’t sound like they’ll have a hard time catching up,” Mitchie observed, nodding toward the canteen where the girls were finishing up with some smooth and soulful vocals. “Hey, do you need some help with drying?”
“Thanks, honey,” Connie said with a grateful smile. “But you need to eat your breakfast first. You know, breakfast is—”
“The most important meal of the day. I know, I know!” Mitchie finished her mother’s sentence. “Okay, let me finish my nutritious breakfast, and then I’ll have the energy I need to come back in here and help out.”
A few minutes later, Mitchie had filled her plate with scrambled eggs. As she was nabbing a slice of toast, she looked around the canteen for a seat.
Her best friend, Caitlyn Gellar, was nowhere to be seen. Mitchie grinned to herself. Bunking in the same cabin, Mitchie had discovered that Caitlyn was a real night owl who loved to stay up late talking or practicing the guitar or learning a new song. Last night, she’d been reading a new novel that she said she just couldn’t put down. Even as Mitchie had drifted off to sleep, Caitlyn’s mini reading light was still glowing. Mitchie had a feeling that her friend was probably willing to miss breakfast—despite its obvious importance!—in order to get a little extra sleep.
As Mitchie’s eyes continued to scan the room, a hint of disappointment clouded her good mood. When she stopped to figure out what had caused the dip in her spirits, she realized that she’d been hoping not to see just Caitlyn. She had also been hoping to see Shane Gray.
Not that she didn’t see quite a lot of him. In fact, she still couldn’t believe that she was friends with the lead singer of the famous band Connect Three. He also happened to be Brown’s nephew. But then again Camp Rock had been nothing if not surprising. Their friendship was another amazing thing that had happened to her here.
Even though Shane wasn’t in the canteen, she was certain to see him later. Right now, she had to hurry up and eat so that she could go help her mom. Mitchie took a seat in a secluded corner, where she was half hidden behind a rolling equipment trunk that had been wheeled into the canteen for that afternoon’s acoustic set. She realized that she was actually pleased to have a little time to herself so she could think about something that had been troubling her.
She had been working on a song all week. It had started off well, but then she got stuck after finishing one verse. Every line she had written seemed forced. Every note she tried sounded false.
Part of her knew that she should put the song aside and work on something else. Often, when she did that, she came back to the problem song and found that the solution was obvious, as if her mind had been working on it while she was busily thinking other thoughts.
But she felt so close to figuring out how to write this song! She didn’t want to give up. She couldn’t. Mitchie felt as if the song already existed somewhere just beyond her grasp, shimmering in the future. If only she could reach out and grab it . . .
James Ponti, Sound Off!
