Mitchie looked sadly out the window. The trees looked so familiar somehow. She sighed. "Tommy, where are we?" she asked. The trees reminded her so much so the ones near Camp Rock…

"Dunno. Somewhere in Canada. Don't care," Tommy shrugged.

"Canada…" Mitchie whispered. So far. So far had they traveled in two weeks. So far away from Shane, from Caitlynn, Elora, Jason, and Nate.

Her family. Were they even still searching?

Don't think like that, Mitchie, she snapped at herself. Of course they are…right?

She knew she couldn't stay here much longer. She'd have to escape…but how? And to where?

"Camp Rock," Mitchie whispered, and smiled.

"What?" Tommy demanded.

"Nothing," Mitchie answered.

Tommy watched her for a long time. Mitchie turned to him and stared back.

When he looked away, she turned back to the window. She wondered if her family had gone to Camp Rock. She remembered that they'd been invited. She wished she could go.

Sighing, she mentally traveled the grounds. The lake and the mess hall were where so many funny memories had taken place.

Like her first year there. Her little, kitchen meet and greet with Shane. Of course, at the time, he'd been a total jerk and oblivious to whom she was. And she hated him.

Mitchie smiled softly again, and continued on with her memories.

The lake, where, on her second year, she and Shane had taken an accidental midnight swim due to her own clumsiness…and a rock. She remembered how she'd been tangled in the water plants, and almost felt the cold water around her.

"And then the brave man's arms around her," Mitchie whispered, so quietly that Tommy couldn't hear. "To save her from the deep."

She sighed again.

"Do you still sing?" Tommy demanded suddenly.

"Why?" Mitchie asked.

"Sing for me," Tommy demanded. "You have a nice voice."



"And what in the world makes you think I'll sing for you?" Mitchie asked, her temper rising. "After all you've done to me? After taking me from my home and my family? After…all that?"

"Yep," Tommy said easily.

"No."

"Sing. Now." Tommy was getting mad. So was Mitchie.

"Make me," she hissed, her hands clenching into tight fists.

A gun cocked. Mitchie froze. Tommy grinned.

"We understand each other now?" he asked, setting the small gun on the table in front of him.

Mitchie closed her eyes. This man was truly insane. Unstable. Worse than Jason! And that was saying something.

"Fine," she said under her breath. "What song?"

"One of yours," Tommy said.

"Fine," she said again, scowling. She took a deep breath and thought for a long moment.

"Who will I be?
It's up to me
All the never ending possibilities
That I can see
There's nothing that I can't do
Who will I be?
Yes, I believe
I get to make the future what I want to
If I can become anyone and know the choice is up to me
Who will I be?"

She stopped and put her hands on her hips. "There. I sang. Happy?"

"Quite," Tommy said, leaning back.

"Good. Don't think I'll do it again," Mitchie said, turning back and looking out the window.

"Oh, I think you will," Tommy said. "I have my ways."

00

Shane wasn't sure why he'd come here. He just had an impulse to get away. From everything. Just for awhile.



But why he chose to come here, he didn't know. Maybe he was just drawn to it.

How did he even remember it? He didn't know that, either.

He sat down on the fallen tree and remembered the conversation he and Mitchie had had so many years ago.

"Mitchie?"

She gasped, starting violently and almost falling off the log.

"Running away from your feelings?" asked Shane as he stepped into view.

Mitchie sighed. "Yeah."

"Kinda figured when you ran past me like a madman and barely noticed me standing there," Shane said, sitting down next to her. "You almost ran me over."

Mitchie flushed and looked down. "Sorry," she whispered. "I didn't even know I passed anyone. I barely knew if I was heading for the lake or not."

"That would have caused problems," agreed Shane.

Mitchie managed a small smile before the anger over flowed. She clenched her hands and glowered at the ground.

"What set you off?" he asked lightly.

Mitchie clenched her teeth. "My mom. She saw the newspaper article."

Shane nodded. "If my parents saw that, they probably would just call to ask about it. Then care not at all."

"Really?"

"Yep. After I became connected to Connect 3, they barely were in my life. Not that they were in it much before that."

"That's awful," said Mitchie, staring at him.

He chuckled a hard laugh. "You get used to it."

Shane sighed and looked at where she'd sat down. He remembered seeing her sitting there, looking worried. He'd known something was wrong, and instantly knew he had to comfort her.

He thought back to the article. Boy, some journalists can fabricate anything from pictures.

He dimly remembered the article that had come out when they'd announced their engagement. Paparazzi had swarmed them wherever they'd gone. The newspapers and magazines were in a frenzy. Of course, after about two weeks, they'd moved on to something else. Thankfully.



"Where are you, Mitchie?" Shane asked aloud. "Why can't they find you?"

A light wind blew through the trees. He shivered and shoved his fists deeper into his sweatshirt pockets. It was a colder afternoon for summer.

"A sign," he muttered to himself. The wind picked up a bit. "A sign that she's near. Hah."

He stood up and the wind died down. He shook his head and walked back to the camp.