Disclaimer: I don't own Camp Rock. Plain, simple, and true.

Okay, so a Part 2 takes place about twenty years later. Long, I know. Shane and Mitchie haven't seen each other once since she kicked him off her porch. Connect 3 faded, then came back a few years ago, and everyone who is a girl between the ages of 12 and 19 are like obsessed with them again. Mitchie still has a grudge against Shane (I've seen people hold grudges for longer) so yeah. That's about it. Everything else will be explained in the story. Oh, and, once again, the entire story will be in Mitchie's POV unless I say otherwise.

SO, I hope that you enjoy this while I practically rip my skin off because of all these stupid bug bites!

I blared my horn as some idiot cut me off. I was already stressed enough without having to worry about being in an accident. My 4-year-old looked up from her coloring book as I slammed on the brakes, spitting out a steam of swears.

"Mommy, you said a lot of bad words. Do you have to go to time-out?" I looked at her through the rear-view mirror. Already, I could tell her resemblance to her father, with her white-blonde hair and sky blue eyes.

"I'm sorry, baby. Mommy's just a little stressed out, and the person in front of us just did something they're not supposed to." Katharine nodded, as if she knew exactly what I was talking about, and went back to coloring. We managed to make it to the middle school without another incident, and I easily picked out my oldest daughter from everyone else waiting for rides.

"Mitchie!" I called out the window. No one called me Mitchie anymore, instead opting for my full name, Michelle. But when my late husband decided he wanted to name our first daughter after me, my parents decided to call her by my old nickname, which eventually my husband and I adopted too. So, I suppose it wasn't much of a surprise that she resembled me so much. I mean, sure, she has blue eyes and is taller than I was at thirteen, but otherwise the similarity is uncanny.

"Hi Mittie!" I smiled at the name Katie had christened her sister with. When she was younger, she couldn't pronounce the 'ch', so she called her 'Mittie' instead. In return, Mitchie called Katie 'Duck' because she used to point at everything and call it a duck.

Mitchie slid into the seat next to her sister, and we set off towards our house. We lived in Guilford, Connecticut, a town too much like Loch Arbour for my tastes, but my daughters had grown up here, so I knew it suited them just fine. Mitchie attended Adams Middle School, and Katie went to Guilford Lakes Elementary school. I worked at the high school, teaching Chorus, No Bass and Voice Class. I occasionally wrote songs, but it was becoming less and less frequent now. Mitchie was following exactly in my footsteps; she loved to sing and dance, and played too many instruments than I could afford. Kaite, on the other hand, was following in her father's footsteps. She hated dresses and skirts, and refused to go near anything pink. While she liked music, she liked to play in the mud more, or play with Legos. She could spend hours playing with them, building houses and castles, and she would never get bored.

"Go do your homework, Mitchie," I said, taking off my jacket and hanging it up in the closet. Mitchie nodded and sat down at the table. Katie sat down next to her as Mitchie pulled out a notebook, the two of them whispering back and forth. I smiled at them, then walked to the kitchen. Might as well start on dinner. Anything beats doing paperwork and grading things. As I opened up the cabinet, something fluttered down and landed at my feet. I stooped to pick it up and sighed when I saw what it was

A Camp Rock brochure.

I remembered Camp Rock very well, especially how it was the place the ultimately took my best friend away. I sighed again and leaned against the counter, remembering how everything changed after Shane came back from Camp Rock. And now, there was only one person in this family who was old enough to go. It seemed like this camp insisted on being a recurring motif in my life.

"Oh, good, ou found it," my daughter remarked as she came into the kitchen, looking for a snack, no doubt.

"Yes, and I'd like to know why you couldn't just tape it to the fridge" I teased back, setting the brochure on the counter and crossing my arms.

"Oh, come on, Mom, you know you'd never noticed it." I'l admit, it was true. All three of us go past that thing and open it everyday without really noticing what we had put up on it.

"Alright, I'll give you that one," I grinned, putting my arm around her.

"Can I trade it in for a summer at Camp Rock?" She grinned back. I kissed her forehead and ruffled her hair.

"I'll think about it."

Soooooo... whad'ya think? Good? Bad? Don't care at all? Tell me in a review please!