Progess, Progress
[Previously]
Guys?" Tess asked timidly as Caitlyn and Mitchie stared at their one-time enemy, "Would it be all right if I sat with you?"
There was silence for what felt like forever, and Mitchie and Caitlyn had one of those think-about-it-quickly-then-look-at-everyone-else-to-see-if-they-feel-the-same expressions. In the end it was Jason who broke the silence.
"I'm fine with it." Nate nodded and so did Shane.
"Me too."
"Yeah."
Mitchie and Caitlyn looked at each other slowly, then both nodded. I guess whatever Tess did must have hit them hard.
"Thank you." Tess said, smiling. It was amazing how her whole face transformed when she smiled and it met her eyes. "You guys were great the other night, by the way. Better than last year."
"Thanks." Nate replied. "Glad you liked it." Hmm… Was he the songwriter of the group? Maybe he was the one who handled the business, sorting out meetings and stuff. Wait, isn't the manager the one who's organised?
"So, Mitchie, when are we going to hear this song you've been working on?" Shane asked when we were sitting eating – Caitlyn had insisted, although I was sure this was just because she thought she might need five people to hold her back if she decided to kill Tess, that I sat with her, Mitchie, Tess and Connect Three (can I have a fangirl moment please? Thanks. OhmyfreakinggoshthatisUNREAL!! CONNECT THREE!!! –passes out cold- Okay I'm done).
"Hopefully sometime in the next week, as long as I can sort some of the lyrics out, they've been bugging me." Mitchie replied.
"Maybe we can help." Tess suggested, trying to make conversation. "What's the song about?"
"Just being happy to be where you are, and with your friends." Mitchie answered shrugging.
"If I think of anything, I'll let you know," Tess said, smiling again. Mitchie and Caitlyn both smiled back, though a bit hesitantly. I then realised Tess looked more relived then I'd ever seen anyone be in my life. It defiantly hit them hard.
I sat on my bed, looking out the window, chewing the top of my pen, wondering what to write. Since Camp Rock had no internet or mobile connection, the only way to keep in touch with family was by letter. Inspiration suddenly hit me, and I snatched up the notebook I'd dropped on the floor in frustration when I hadn't known what to put.
Dear mum and Dave,
Life here at Camp Rock is excellent, thank you SO MUCH for deciding to honeymoon in California! So far I've made a few friends, and met some amazing people. You'll never believe it, but Connect Three are teaching here this summer!!! (Yes, mum, it is the exact same band you listen to all the time in the car. I also – cue mum fainting – have Connect Three as my music teachers – Nate does Music Theory, which I'm rubbish at, Shane teaches dance, which I love, and Jason is the guitar teacher. Guitar is so, so much harder than it looks, but I've been practicing on one of Mitchie's acoustics and I don't sound like someone being tortured anymore. Mitchie is one of the girls I'm sharing a cabin with and she's hilarious. So's Caitlyn, look out for her on the 'top music producers of the future' lists.
I've got to get myself a guitar sharpish once Camp Rock is over, and I'm considering asking Shane to teach me how to play drums as well. Don't worry, I don't need a drumkit yet!
I know I won't see you in a fortnight for parents' weekend, but can you please come to see Final Jam? I'd love to show you everything, the scenery here is beautiful.
Love you; hope CA still has lots of sun! (Not that I'm jealous, of course)
Jools
PS I addressed this to your hotel in California, so you better not have changed hotels since I last saw you!
PPS An acoustic guitar is a hollow one.
Over the next two weeks I worked like I never had done before. But, unlike most school work, I was enjoying it, and often sat up nearly all night practicing, forgetting the time.
I could now successfully strum 'Boulevard of Broken Dreams' and hit the right chords the whole way through, as well as play the intro to 'Chelsea Dagger'. To my surprise, I knew how to read music and identify the different notes on a sheet of music and I was getting good at choreographed dance, able to do an entire routine to Flo Rida and the Soulja Boy without a break. Trust me; the Soulja Boy is the weirdest dance on the planet, except maybe anything by Boney M.
The most amazing thing I learnt, though, was that I could sing. Well, sort of. The first singing lesson we had scared me half to death – we all had to sing a solo at least once. Thankfully, we got to pick a song we knew, and we also got given the lyrics, so the whole experience wasn't as excruciating as I'd thought it would be. I sang '1234' by Feist – I was convinced it was too high, but Brown persuaded me and said I sounded "quite good", so perhaps I wasn't too bad. Maybe just a little more practice?
I was also steadily making more friends, which, for me, was the best part of all. As well as Eliza and Mickey, I knew everyone's name in all my classes, and often jammed in the practice rooms with Mickey, Eliza and a guy from Music Theory called Matt, who was a complete legend with a bass guitar. He also had two left feet and couldn't hold a note to save his life, but didn't seem to care – he always sang twice as loud as everyone else, but nearly always just on the one note, so it always sounded like there was a buzzing in the background when we sang along to the music we played.
Parents' Weekend started Friday evening, and I was excited, even though I knew mum and Dave weren't going to be there. Eliza's parents and sister were coming up from their place in New Mexico, on their way to visit Eliza's grandmother in Nevada, and Mitchie's dad was coming up from their place in New Jersey, and I was eager to meet them – Eliza complained about her sister all the time!
Thursday afternoon, Brown dropped a bomb on Eliza and I when he found Eliza teaching me piano in one of the cabins.
"You two have come a long way in a few weeks." he told us, "So I think you can do a duet in the one of the cabins while the parents have a look round – you can show them how much you can learn by coming to Camp Rock."
"You're using us to get more students!" protested Eliza, but I knew we were both secretly thrilled – and scared witless.
"What're we supposed to play?" Eliza demanded when Brown had gone to yell at Shane for leaving his straighteners (A/N: Flat Iron) on when he rushed out to see Mitchie and subsequently setting the curtains on fire.
"I don't know." I leaned against the piano and thought about the limited amount of chords I knew.
"I could sing 'Boulevard of Broken Dreams'" suggested Eliza, "I'm sure I've got the lyrics somewhere."
"Alright then," I said, trying not to let my fear of playing in front of a live audience get the better of me, "Boulevard of Broken Dreams it is." And let's just hope I don't freak and forget it all when we have to play at the weekend, I added silently.