Six Years Ago…

"Rebecca Mitchell, I'm not kidding!" Warren Mitchell all but stomped his foot. "Get out of the car right now!"

Beca rolled her eyes, "no."

Her father's nostrils flared and his face was a red as a tomato. If Beca wasn't as annoyed as she was right now it would have been funny. Her father was not a funny man. He was serious, all business and all boring. All those already caused their relationship to suffer but now he was forcing her to spend her summer in a Troubled Youth Camp. A camp? Seriously? She was sixteen, not six.

"That's it! I'm going to get the chief counsellor." Her father stomped off toward the log cabins.

"Ooh fun." Beca quipped to no one.

This was stupid. This was a camp for troubled youth. Beca wasn't a troubled youth. Sure, she got into fights more often than normal people but that's only 'cause her father didn't socialize her well enough. She was never comfortable using her words so she used something she was comfortable with; her fists.

Beca swears she isn't all bad but people didn't see that when they looked at her. People saw too much eyeliner, tattoos and piercings and they think, 'oh, that girl is trouble.'

Her father looked at her and saw her mother and that wasn't acceptable. Why do you think she wore too much make up, got those tattoos and even the piercings? She was trying her hardest no to look like her mom but she couldn't change her genetics. She was who she was and now she was paying for that.

A black BMW that Beca couldn't even dream of owning pulled into the parking lot. A woman most likely in her early thirties stepped out, she had shiny brown hair and curves that were probably bought. She was talking obnoxiously loud on her phone.

The passenger door opened. Beca sat up straighter in her seat so she could see better. A girl probably Beca's age stepped out. She had the older woman's brown hair and she was tall. Everyone was tall to Beca but this girl was exceptionally so. She was wearing a black pullover and leggings that showed off her legs that went on for days. She had curves too but Beca wasn't certain these were real.

The girl looked like she'd rather be anywhere other than here, which was invitation enough for Beca. She got out of her dad's car and walked over to the girl.

"Hey," Beca half waved, stopping a foot away from the girl.

"Look if you're here to bullshit me about how much this camp has changed you and that I should give it a chance, I wouldn't bother." She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Beca.

Beca put her hands up in surrender, "I'm not a counsellor dude."

"Oh," she shrugged and then smiled sheepishly. "Sorry."

Beca dismissed the apology with a wave of her hand, "nah, save your sorry. I'd much rather have your name."

"Stacie Conrad." She stuck her hand out.

Beca took a step close and shook it, "Beca Mitchell."

The lady that Beca presumed was Stacie's mom hung up the phone and gave Beca a once over. She hummed disapprovingly. "Stacie grab your things. Stop wasting my time."

Stacie rolled her eyes and then grabbed her duffle bag from the trunk of the car. Beca wanted to punch this lady. Then thought about how urges like that was probably why she was being sent here.

She felt a hand on her arm, "see you in hell."

Beca smirked and nodded, "yeah."

Once they walked away Beca spotted her dad, a nerdy looking man and two buff dudes heading towards her. Beca shouldered her bag and her smirk grew.

"Rebec-"

"Dad, what took you so long?" Her dad squinted at her. "Let's go, I'm so pumped for this camp."

Of course she was being sarcastic but no one seemed to pick up on it. The nerdy looking man seem pleased and the buff guys looked annoyed.

"What?"

"Don't worry dad, the summer will go by fast. You won't even get a chance to miss me." Beca smiled a huge, fake smile at all the men there and headed toward the log cabin. Halfway there she turned to look over her shoulder and her dad was frozen with his jaw to the floor. So worth it.

After getting briefed on what the camp was about and putting her phone in a plastic bag for them to take away until the end, Beca was sent to her cabin.

They were two big cabins, one for boys and one for girls. Within each cabin there are sections. Each section holds two people and that was Beca's problem. She didn't want to be roomed with some angsty loser and this camp was full of angsty losers.

Beca sighed. She thought that since she had met Stacie this whole thing wouldn't be so bad but despite the tall brunette's promise of seeing Beca later, it had been two hours and they had yet to.

She entered her section expecting to meet some black haired, acne and angst teenager but she didn't. Instead her face broke into a huge grin. "Hey roomie."

Her roommate turned around and the grin on her face matched Beca's, "oh thank God."

"Please." Beca threw her bag onto her bunk. "God had nothing to do with it."

"Not religious?"

"God never did me no favors."

Stacie nodded her head slowly, "fair enough."

"Are you?"

"Not really."

They unpacked their things or Stacie did. Beca didn't feel like it so she just lay on her bed watching Stacie go through her things. Stacie moved her things around and Beca saw a pack of cigarettes. She wasn't a huge fan of them and hoped that Stacie wouldn't smoke them in their little section.

"So why are you here?" Stacie asked, taking out a shirt, folding it and putting it into the cupboard.

"My dad."

"That's no-"

Beca nodded, "I know. I'm here because I use my fist more than I do my mouth."

Stacie snorted, "kinky."

Beca laughed, took her pillow and chucked it at Stacie, "dork."

Stacie caught the pillow and her expression turned serious, "and the real reason?"

Beca sighed, she had never told anyone about her mother. They just assumed she had left Beca and her father. Beca never bothered to correct them. "My dad can't deal with the fact that I look like my mom so he sends me away or he goes away. We're never together for more than a week."

Stacie didn't say anything so Beca continued. "My mom died giving birth to me. I never knew her but I've heard stories."

"Having a mom isn't all that great Beca." Beca looked up to meet Stacie eyes. "But it's unfortunate that your dad's a dick. I know I just met you and my words probably hold no weight but it isn't your fault."

No one's ever said that to her. Her father and her grandparents always made it seem like it was her fault. They would rather have beautifully amazing Ella Mitchell than faulty Beca Mitchell any day. They made her feel like she didn't deserve her mother's beauty.

Stacie stood up with a small white towel and a water bottle. She unscrewed the cap and wetted the towel. She walked over to Beca. "Sit up."

Beca obeyed.

Stacie leaned over and gently wiped the make up from Beca's eyes, "you have beautiful eyes Beca. Don't hide them."

Beca smiled. She actually liked Stacie. This was literally a first for her. Beca didn't have a single friend. Not even an acquaintance. She lived her life completely solo but now she was grateful towards whatever had possessed her to talk to Stacie in the first place. Then something popped into her mind.

"Stacie?"

Stacie who had gone back to unpacking her things looked up, "hmmm?"

"Do you smoke?"

Stacie looked confused for a second and then a look of realization and then she shook her head, "no, I just have those to piss off my mom."

Beca let out a relieved breath, "thank God."

Stacie raised an eyebrow, "Ple-"

Beca threw her middle finger up at her new and only friend and laughed, "yeah, yeah."