Shane played random notes on his prized possession; the guitar Brown had given him for his 9th birthday. He tried to forget about the way he had made Mitchie feel; he felt like he shouldn't care, best friend or not.
One thing he couldn't shake from his thoughts was the girl he had heard singing on the piano, her identity was a mystery to him.
He played the melody of the song.
"That's cool." Brown dropped down onto the chair beside him. "It's like your old stuff."
Shane shrugged. "Yeah, I was thinking group could change up our sound, do some different stuff."
He seemed excited, and it made Brown smile. He decided to push his limits with his nephew.
"So you coming up to the campfire?"
"Ha. Yeah right."
"Alright. You sit in here by yourself super star. Cause you're right, way cooler." Brown shook his head.
"So, your friends," Connie called to Mitchie. They were cleaning up the kitchen. "They seem nice. Tess is...interesting."
Mitchie shrugged, dropping a pile of dishes into the bubbly water. She was still irradiated with Shane, and the subtlety from her mother wasn't helping. "I know but, she's better once you get to know her."
"Yeah?" She wasn't taking a hint. "And have you? Have you gotten to know her?"
"Yeah, I guess."
"I don't know, she just doesn't seem like she's your type." Connie turned to face her daughter. "You know, you've always been so..."
"Invisible?" She demanded sarcastically.
"I was going to say independent. Hurry up and finish those potatoes if you wanna get to the campfire."
Half an hour later, Mitchie stood with Peggy and Ella in shimmering dresses, ready to sing back up for Tess.
Dee, energetic as ever, ran up onto the stage, mic in hand. The sun was setting, and it was the perfect summer night. "So, we call this the Camp fire Jam. It's about expression the freedom to be who you really wanna be! Hit it!"
I'm too cool for my dress
These shades don't leave my head
Everything you say is so irrelevant
You follow and I lead
You want to be like me
But your just a wannabe
love it or hate it I can't help the way I am
Hope you don't misunderstand
Cause I'm too cool
Yeah I'm too cool To know you
Don't take it personal
Don't get emotional
You know it's the truth
I'm too cool for you
You think your hot but I'm sorry, you're not
Exactly who you think you are
Can't tell you what you haven't got
When we walk into the room
I'm too cool for you
Lucky I'm so nice
Even I'm surprised
You are still allowed to be in my crew
Show you how it's done
If you want to be someone
Just watch me and you'll learn some
Me, myself, and I agree
You'll never catch up with me
Cause I'm too cool
Yeah I'm too cool
To know you
Don't take it personal
Don't get emotional
You know it's the truth
I'm too cool for you You think your hot but I'm sorry, you're not
Exactly who you think you are
Can't tell you what you haven't got
When we walk into the room I'm too cool for you
You see I'm all beauty, brains, and talents I got it all
Well others have to try all their lives
Still they never get the call
That's the difference between you and me
Obviously I'm a natural
I'm the real deal
I can't help the way I am
Hope you don't misunderstand
But I'm too cool
Yeah I'm too cool
To know you
Don't take it personal
Don't get emotional
You know it's the truth
I'm too cool for you
Too cool
Yeah I'm too cool To know you
Don't take it personal
Don't get emotional
You know it's the truth I'm too cool for you
The girls exchanged smiles. Mitchie could see Shane standing around the corner, a look of amusement on his face as he watched her.
"Did you enjoy singing backup?" A voice asked from behind her; Caitlyn. She didn't look amused. Not at all.
Tess glanced over her shoulder, waiting for her to fall into step beside them.
So she did.
The next day, she walked across the bridge with her guitar case in hand. She heard random notes and chords being played on a guitar. Immediately knowing who was behind the beautiful sound, she stopped to listen.
The music made her catch her breath, and the sound stopped abruptly.
"Can't a guy get some peace?"
"Sorry..." Mitchie had no idea why she was apologizing, since she had nothing to apologize for. "I mean...sorry."
"You said that already." Shane remarked bitterly. He was sitting on a stool by the water, his guitar on his lap.
"Sorry." She repeated as she walked over to him. "Was that you playing? It sounded kinda different."
He rolled his eyes. "Then my usual stupid cookie-cutter pop-star stuff? Sorry to disappoint."
That made Mitchie laugh. "You didn't. I liked it. I mean, it was good for stupid cookie-cutter pop star stuff."
Shane watched her carefully. Who was this girl, his best friend? When did she grow up so much?
He smiled, becoming the boy who forgot that he was famous for five seconds. This was the Shane that had lived next door to her; the boy that sent her flowers every valentines day because no other guy ever had. "Wow, you really know how to make a guy feel better."
"I thought you loved your sound. You created it here, you're like a Camp Rock legend."
"Some legend." The famous version of Shane was back. "I only play the music that the label thinks we'll sell. That's it."
"You don't think that song would sell?" Mitchie asked him, surprised.
"I don't know." He seemed to be in deep thought.
She was always one to give him advice at times like this. "Well, you'll never know if you don't try." Mitchie turned to walk away. "And by the way, I know of one girl that would buy that song."
Shane watched her walk away, completely in awe of the woman she was becoming.
Later, in the mess hall for dinner, Tess tripped over Caitlyn's outstretched foot on her way to their table.
"Oh, I'm so sorry-" She stammered, till she saw who it was. She had been on her laptop, making a new beat for her Pajama Jam performance. "Actually, I'm so not."
Tess glared at her. Mitchie thought it was almost funny how quickly her moods could change just like Shane's. They could have made the perfect couple.
"I would respond but-"
"But you are responding by saying that you're not responding." Ella shot back at Caitlyn, clearly thinking her remark would be clever enough to break up the fight.
"Shut up." Tess hissed at her through clenched teeth. Peggy and Ella headed to the table, but Mitchie stayed behind, hoping a fight wasn't about to break out.
She wasn't prepared for Tess to drop some of her noddles onto Caitlyn's shirt.
"Okay, that was on purpose." Caitlyn reached over to brush the spaghetti away. Her eyes were wide, still shocked that Tess Tyler would stoop this low.
"Does it matter?" She demanded, spilling more noodles. "Anything makes that outfit look better."
Tess dropped the rest of her lunch onto the curly haired girl. "See?"
"Stop! Guys stop! Stop!" Mitchie cried, surprised that no one was breaking the fight up.
Caitlyn took a handful of noodles and launched them at the unsuspecting blonde. "My spaghetti slipped."
"I can't believe you did that!"
"Neither can I." Brown, how long had he been standing there?, frowned. He used three fingers to point at Caitlyn, and then Mitchie, and then Tess. "I hate when I have to be un cool."
They ended up in his office, Caitlyn and Tess covered in Connie's Catering.
"Lay it on me."
The girls began to speak at once.
"She's always been jealous of me and can not stand the fact that I am probably going to win Final Jam so when he starts flinging-"
"She's impossible!"
"Whoa! Enough!" Brown snapped. "Make it plain. Who was the first one to throw food?"
"That's easy. Caitlyn."
"That's technically true, but..." Caitlyn trailed off, trying to think of a good excuse. There wasn't one.
"No buts." Brown sighed. "Since you wanna play with food, I can hook you up with a job this Summer. From here on out, your on kitchen duty."
"What?!" She fretted. "I mean, ew!"
He gave her a confused look and she smiled back innocently.
"But-"
"Again with the buts. Look, it's settled."
Tess smiled, satisfied that she had won once again. "Happy cooking."
Caitlyn glared at Mitchie, making her feel even more guilty. Caitlyn was a real friend, not Tess who would do anything to make sure that Brown, Shane, Peggy, Ella, and even Mitchie were on her side,
"Thanks a lot."
