Going Platinum, (6 page)

For a moment, Connie didn't speak. Then she stood up. “Well, my dear,” she said. “Only you can decide that. And I trust you'll come up with the right answer.” She walked over to the window and grabbed a box of hamburger buns.

“That's all you are going to say?” Mitchie gasped. “No great pearls of motherly wisdom?”

“Mitchie, it's your song,” her mom told her. She moved closer to her and tucked a strand of loose hair behind Mitchie's ear. “You have to decide. Just remember: you're still a kid. Any decision you make, you'll have to clear with me.” She smiled and then glanced over at the large clock on the wall. “I have to keep moving. This party is starting in a few hours.” Connie had barely left when there was a knock at the back door. The door opened. Sander, Barron, Lola, and Peggy were standing on the porch.

“Hey,” Barron said. “We came to get Mitchie.”

“It's showtime!” Lola said, spreading her hands in front of her face dramatically.

“Well, actually it's just rehearsal,” Peggy corrected her. She wasn't prepared for
showtime
—that would be a bigger deal. Peggy grabbed Mitchie's hand. “Come on. We have to be at the theater in five minutes. We're going to have the final run-through.”

“Caitlyn, why don't you come with us?” Lola asked.

Mitchie was happy when Caitlyn agreed to come. While they walked, Caitlyn filled the others in on what had happened earlier with Faye. As they got closer to the theater, Mitchie felt more and more confused.

“So what are you going to do?” Lola asked when Caitlyn was finished.

Shrugging her shoulders, Mitchie sighed. She still had no answers.

Finally, they reached the theater. Opening the door, they saw Faye in the middle of the room practicing one of her trademark dance routines. The beat of the music was familiar. It sounded similar to “Bubbling Sunshine” and other Faye Hart songs. The melody was familiar, too. Mitchie's eyes grew wide as Faye opened her mouth to sing—her lyrics!

“Wow,” Barron whispered. “That didn't take long.”

Mitchie walked in with her friends trailing behind her. Steve held up his hand to make sure they were all quiet as Faye continued to sing and dance in a circle, unaware that anyone had entered the theater.

“This is worse than I thought,” Sander mumbled.

“Is she for real?” Barron asked as he watched Faye twirl around.

Mitchie pushed forward. “Unfortunately, I think she is,” she said.

When the music ended, Faye's posse quickly surrounded her, giving her adoring compliments. She tossed her head and took all the comments in. Finally, Faye noticed Mitchie standing off to the side.

“Hey, there,” she called. “So, what do you think? We changed it a little, made the tempo a little faster.” Faye winked. “And you know, added some ‘Faye.'”

“That's what you call it?” Mitchie asked. Her heart was beginning to race, and her face felt hot. “That doesn't even sound like the song I wrote anymore!”

Faye walked up to Mitchie and looked her straight in the eye. “Well, no,” she said calmly, “because now it's
my
song.” She turned on her pointy sling backs and headed over to take a sip of bottled water.

“Now just wait a minute,” Mitchie said.

Caitlyn saw the look in Mitchie's eyes and intercepted, pulling her over to the side. “Wait until you hear the offer,” she whispered. “Remember? Be professional.”

Mitchie took a deep breath. Caitlyn was right, she realized. But if this was what the music business was all about, she was beginning to think she didn't want any part of it.

Turning around, she faced her friends. She saw how Barron and Sander were looking at her, the concern in Caitlyn's face, and that Peggy and Lola were speechless. Suddenly, she felt a wave of sadness rush over her. It was too late.

Mitchie let her head hang down. “I can't sing it. Not at the jam, not ever.” And with that she took off, running out the door before any of her friends could stop her.

C
HAPTER
E
IGHT

M
itchie couldn't stop running. She headed toward the path that circled the lake. Her feet beat the ground in a steady motion, taking her farther and farther away from Faye. Eventually Mitchie felt her breath even out. She settled into a jog, and then sounds and scents began to filter through her sadness.

How could things have changed so quickly? she thought. Just a day ago, she had been so happy that she had been one of the finalists for B's Jam. But now Faye had ruined everything. Her interpretation of the song had poisoned it—and made Mitchie question herself.

“Wait up!” Caitlyn shouted, interrupting Mitchie's thoughts. Mitchie stopped and turned to see Caitlyn, Barron, Sander, Lola, and Peggy jogging down the path. “We've been looking all over for you.”

Mitchie lowered her head, unwilling to make eye contact.

“You
have
to sing tonight,” Peggy said when they caught up to her. “The competition won't be the same without you.”

“Come on,” Lola added. “This jam was made for you. It's your thing. Just you and the guitar. Don't let Faye get to you.”

“It's your song, Mitchie,” Sander pointed out. “Why don't you sing it your way and show Faye how its done?”

Slowly, Mitchie lifted her head. She squinted across the lake, watching a group of ducks fly by. She loved this area of camp. Here, she could look out on the lake and get lost in the beauty of the place. This was where she had first thought of those lyrics for the song. She turned to face her friends.

“I'll think about it,” she said softly. A smile spread across her face. “But thanks,” she said. “You guys are the best.”

“Well, Barron and I are,” Sander said, laughing. “And we are going to win the jam, make no mistake about that.”

“Oh, I don't know,” Lola said, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “I think that you guys have some pretty serious competition.”

“You know it!” Peggy cried.

Mitchie looked down at her watch. Why was she forever running late? She had to get back to serve lunch. “I've got to go help out my mom,” she said. Once more she took off, leaving her friends standing on the path, watching her run away—again.

T
he rest of the afternoon was a blur for Mitchie. She went to Dee's voice workshop and even got to do a little swimming. But no matter what she did to calm down, her mind was still reeling from the morning's interaction with Faye.

By late afternoon, the vibe of the camp changed once again. It seemed that everyone was rushing to take showers and get ready for the biggest party Camp Rock had ever seen. The energy in camp was on full power, and everyone was excited—everyone except Mitchie.

She avoided the whole getting-ready prep time that the rest of the camp seemed to be thriving on. Instead, she headed down to the docks, hoping that the water would relax her like it usually did.

As she walked along the wooden dock, she looked into the rowboats lined up in the water. The boats were all tied up, rocking gently with the motion of the lake. Inside the third one, Mitchie noticed a brown head of hair.

“Shane?” she asked.

Shane popped up from lying on the bottom of the boat. He lifted his sunglasses and peered up at Mitchie.

“Hey there,” he said, smiling. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“You hiding out, too?” she asked.

Shane sat up further. “Kinda,” he confessed. He swept his hand out in a grand, regal gesture. “Would you care for a ride, m'lady?”

Mitchie giggled. “Why, yes, sir, I would love one.” She climbed into the rowboat and sat facing Shane.

Rowing in a steady, rhythmic beat, Shane steered the boat out to the middle of the lake where it was quiet and still. He had gotten much better since the time on the lake when they'd gone canoeing. That time, they had ended up paddling in circles.

When they reached the middle of the lake, Shane pulled the oars inside the boat and leaned back. The sun was setting, and Shane looked so cute in the soft hues of the late-day light.

“So, what happened with Faye?” he asked, cutting to the chase.

“You brought me out to the middle of the lake to ask me that?” Mitchie teased.

“Well, if I didn't, then you would have been able to walk away from me, right?” Shane replied, smiling. “Or Faye would have figured out a way to interrupt. Now you can't escape. Smart thinking on my part, if I do say so myself.”

Mitchie smiled. Sitting in the boat with Shane was the only place she wanted to be right now. She hadn't realized how much she missed talking to him. “Well, it didn't go so well,” Mitchie said. Then she blurted out, “She totally changed my song!”

Shane shook his head. “Let me guess,” he said, “she just added some ‘Faye' to it?” He cocked his head to the side and did an impression of Faye flipping her hair.

They both laughed, and for the first time all day, Mitchie felt better.

“You know, it would be a pretty amazing opportunity for you,” Shane said. He focused his brown eyes and looked directly at Mitchie. “Your song would be heard by millions of people.”

“But that's the thing,” Mitchie said. “It wouldn't be
my
song. It wouldn't be the song I wrote.” She shrugged. “I don't know what to do.”

“I think you just answered the question,” Shane replied. “Now, do you have the guts to stand by your decision?”

Mitchie wished she could be as confident in herself as Shane appeared to be. “I don't know,” she said, shrugging. “Maybe I'm not as talented as some people. Maybe this is the only way.” Looking off into the water, she sighed, before adding, “It's just that that song means a lot to me. And so did singing it at the jam.”

Shane reached over and held her hand.

“Then you need to perform the song tonight,” he said gently. “You are very talented, Mitchie Torres.”

Mitchie looked into Shane's eyes. He made everything seem so simple!

“And,” he went on, “Faye is Faye. She's one of a kind. She doesn't like to be told no, so you'll have to be strong.”

“You're right,” she mumbled. “I'll go talk to her.”

“Of course I'm right,” Shane boasted.

Mitchie reached over the side of the boat and splashed him.

“Oh, you don't want to start that!” he said. “It's a long swim back to shore.”

“You wouldn't dare,” Mitchie countered playfully. “One of those photographers would love to get a shot like that.”

Shane ran a hand through his dark hair. “Ugh! Don't mention the shutterbugs! They are worse than the mosquitoes. I can't do anything around here without one of those long lenses zooming in on me. Believe me, I'm all for the party. But this press-conference stuff here at camp is starting to annoy me.”

“You aren't prepared for them here the way you are at home,” Mitchie observed.

Picking up the oars, Shane nodded. “Exactly. All summer I've been able to let my guard down. And now . . .”

Mitchie watched as the oars cut the water, pulling them back to shore. “You can't let that get in the way of celebrating going platinum,” she said. “Selling all those albums is a really big deal. . . .”

“You're right,” Shane said, taking in the good advice.

“Of course I'm right!” Mitchie said, repeating Shane's earlier boast smugly.

“Now don't get all full of yourself,” Shane warned. Winking, he guided the boat back into the open slip at the dock.

The sun had sunk below the horizon, and the bright light of day was fading. A cool purple filled the sky and made the light hazy.

“We should probably get going,” he said.

“Good luck with Faye. I'm sure you'll find the right things to say to her.”

“And good luck with everything tonight,” Mitchie told him. She stood up and jumped up on the dock. “Thanks for the ride and the pep talk.”

Shane blushed. “Sure,” he answered. He placed the oars down in the boat and stood up. “Now I gotta go play rock star.”

Just as he said that, the boat started to sway. Shane lost his balance and then . . .

SPLASH!

Mitchie laughed as she watched Shane tumble into the water. “Yeah,” she said, giggling. “You're a rock star all right!”

Leaving a sputtering and soaked Shane behind, she ran up the path to her cabin. Her talk with Shane had helped. She knew what she had to do. Now she just had to find a way to tell Faye.

C
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