Rock Royalty (4 page)

T
wo electric mixers, a blender, and three burners on the stove in the kitchen were going when Mitchie got back to camp. Once again, her mom was swamped. With the concert, she not only had to feed the camp but Brown had also volunteered her services to the School Rocks' staff.

Luckily, Caitlyn had stopped by looking for Mitchie and when she saw the chaos, offered to lend Connie a hand. Now she was chopping cucumbers at the large kitchen table as she told Connie about the changes to the school's theater.

They both looked up as the door slammed behind Mitchie. She looked at her mom and friend and shrugged sheepishly. She knew she was late, but the sound check had gone on forever.

“Sorry! Sorry!” Mitchie cried, warding off a scolding from her mother about being on time by giving her a kiss on the cheek and quickly taking a seat next to Caitlyn. Picking up a cucumber, she began to chop.

“So, how'd it go?” her mom asked. She had been thrilled when Brown made his announcement—despite the extra work it meant. Seeing her daughter happy was well worth it.

“It went really well,” Mitchie answered.

Connie smiled broadly. She knew how Mitchie could get nervous performing in front of a lot of people. But Mitchie had been working on getting past that all summer, and it seemed to be paying off.

“That's great, sweetie,” Connie said, wiping her hands on her apron, which was already splattered with food.

“It was great—and all about
you
,” Caitlyn teased. She and Mac had watched the crew flutter around Mitchie and Shane from the sound booth. “You should have seen the look on Tess's face!”

Mitchie shrugged. “Really? I mean I guess the crew was kind of attentive.” She finished chopping one cucumber and picked up another.

“You
guess
? They were all,” Caitlyn imitated the staff, “‘lights on her hair' and ‘let's make her eyes pop.'”

Mitchie laughed and rolled her eyes. “I know. They just want it to be perfect, though. You can't blame them. . . . I mean, I want it to be perfect, too. This is the official kick-off of the Camp Rock scholarship!”

Mitchie's mom weighed in from the sink. “I think it's wonderful that you've found a way to give back to Camp Rock, Mitchie.”

“Well, it was Shane's idea, really,” Mitchie reminded her.

“I knew I liked that boy,” Mitchie's mom joked, her brown eyes twinkling.

“Anyway,” Mitchie continued, changing the subject, “I can only stay for a little bit today, Mom. We have a wardrobe fitting at—” Mitchie glanced at her watch. “Shoot! In ten minutes.”

Mitchie swiped the cucumbers she had diced into a neat pile beside Caitlyn's.

“You have to go?” Caitlyn and Connie asked at the same time.

“Whoa—jinx! You owe each other a Coke.” Mitchie was laughing, but her mother wasn't.

“Mitchie, I'm going crazy in here with all this extra food I have to make,” Connie said, running a hand through her brown hair. “I need you in the kitchen.”

“But they have to fit me for my wardrobe,” Mitchie explained again.

“Well, can't you reschedule for later in the day?” her mom asked. “Like
after
lunch?”

“There's a makeup meeting after the fitting,” Mitchie said, unaware that her tone had become a little condescending.

Caitlyn's gaze bounced between mother and daughter, all too aware of the growing tension.

Connie eyed her daughter. What had gotten into Mitchie? The most makeup she wore at home was Chap Stick!

“And then I'm scheduled for a mani,” Mitchie added, almost as an afterthought.

“‘A mani'?” Connie repeated, not sure she was hearing correctly.

Even Caitlyn was beginning to feel confused by this imposter Mitchie.

“Too ‘mani' excuses,” Caitlyn muttered under her breath, but either Mitchie didn't hear her or didn't care.

“A manicure,” Mitchie explained. “I can't go onstage as a School Rocks representative with dishpan hands!” She held up her hands for proof. It was true. Her nail polish was chipped, and her hands looked dried out from the dish soap they used every day in the kitchen.

Connie sighed. “Okay. I just hope your other beauty appointments don't interfere with dinner prep.”

As Connie spoke, the sound of a cell phone ringing filled the kitchen. It was coming from Mitchie's pocket.

“Oh! Just a second,” said Mitchie, extracting her phone from her pocket. “Hello?” she chirped.

As Mitchie talked to whoever was on the other line, Caitlyn and Connie exchanged glances.

“Since when has Mitchie carried her cell phone at camp?” Connie asked Caitlyn.

“Apparently since she became rock royalty,” Caitlyn said with a groan. Funny how quickly things can change, she thought.

“That was Ginger,” Mitchie said, as if that were obvious. Neither Caitlyn nor Connie knew Ginger, the creative director of the School Rocks concert. “They're waiting for me at the Keynote Cabin. Sorry to jet!” Waving good-bye, Mitchie flew out the door.

“I'll stay and help you, Connie,” said Caitlyn.

“Thank you, Caitlyn.”

“Connie?” Caitlyn said hesitantly a few minutes later.

“Hmmm?” Connie responded as she diced tomatoes.

“Do you think Mitchie remembers that the only reason she's at Camp Rock is because
you
offered to work in the kitchen?”

Connie sighed. “That's a good question, Caitlyn. That's a very good question.”

As they chopped and diced and slivered and sautéed, they both wondered how Mitchie, of all people, could have morphed into a demi-diva overnight.

T
here was one big challenge at a place like Camp Rock, where you were performing all the time—to keep your music fresh. So Caitlyn, after kitchen duty, had wandered over to an empty rehearsal cabin to work on some new material.

She was trying to get the hook of a new song down, but whatever she was doing wasn't working. Caitlyn was so engrossed in her computer that she didn't even hear the sound of footsteps approaching.

“Oh, my gosh, you scared me!” Caitlyn nearly jumped out of her skin when she noticed Mac standing behind her.

“Not exactly the reaction I was going for.” Mac grinned. “May I?” He gestured to the bench next to Caitlyn.

Caitlyn stifled a laugh. Mac could be so formal sometimes. “You may,” she said dramatically.

“What are you workin' on today?” Mac drawled.

“I'm trying to get this hook down, but something's off.”

“Can I have a listen?” he asked.

“Sure.”

Mac reached across and punched ENTER on Caitlyn's laptop. Designs on the screen danced in neon shades of pink, green, and blue as the music played. It was good, but she was right, the hook was off.

“Yeah. That doesn't work,” agreed Mac.

“Gee, thanks,” Caitlyn said sarcastically. She slumped on the bench and ran a hand through her wavy brown hair.

“I tried this.” Caitlyn punched some keys and the hook played again. Still not right. “And this.” Again, no good.

Caitlyn fidgeted with a leather bracelet on her wrist and sighed. “I just can't seem to concentrate,” she grumbled.

“Why not? Are you distracted?”

“What would I be distracted by?” Caitlyn responded.

“Something . . . or someone?” Caitlyn didn't pick up on the hint of hopefulness in Mac's voice. Although he wouldn't dare admit it out loud, he was hoping
he
might be the one occupying Caitlyn's thoughts.

“Yes!” Caitlyn exclaimed. It was as if a lightbulb had suddenly turned on in her head. “That's exactly it.”

“Really?” Mac asked, surprised and pleased. But then Caitlyn went on.

“It's Mitchie,” she said. “She's not acting like herself, and it's kind of throwing me for a loop.”

“Oh,” Mac said, hiding his disappointment. “I see. . . . So, what's she acting like?”

“A diva,” Caitlyn explained. “All day, with this concert, she's been acting like a total pop princess. That's
so
not Mitchie.”

“I hear ya,” Mac said. “She must be under a lot of pressure, though. A lot has happened this summer, and now she's performing at a huge promotional concert with Shane Gray! That would make anyone act a little differently.”

Caitlyn considered Mac's words for a moment. “You're right,” she said finally. “Hopefully once the concert's over, her head will shrink back down to normal size.”

Mac laughed.

“You know,” observed Caitlyn, “you're pretty easy to talk to.”

Mac's cheeks flushed. “Thanks,” he said, looking at Caitlyn's screen saver as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. “You're pretty easy to talk to yourself.”

“Thanks.” Caitlyn sighed. “Too bad my superior conversational skills won't fix my hook.” She turned back to her laptop.

“What if . . .” Mac said, then his voice trailed off. “Never mind.”

“What?” Caitlyn asked. She wanted his opinion.

“What if you use a B-flat here and speed up the tempo there?” Mac pointed to the chord progression on the laptop's screen.

Caitlyn hummed the tune. “Yes!” she cried. “I like that. That works.”

She punched a few keys on her computer, and the music played again. The beat was stronger, and the hook actually hooked the listener.

“Thanks.” Caitlyn grinned at Mac, and he grinned back.

“No problem,” he said.

Caitlyn didn't know what to say now. Her heart was racing oddly and her palms felt unnaturally clammy. Mac looked nervous, too.

Suddenly, they were interrupted by a sound outside the rehearsal cabin. It sounded like someone was crying—a girl. Standing up, Caitlyn went to the cabin's window and peered outside. Tess was sitting on the front steps.

Why is it that
I
always seem to be the one finding Tess in tears? Caitlyn mused to herself. But she quickly pushed that thought aside. Tess looked really upset.

“Tess?” Caitlyn said softly, trying not to startle her. Turning, Tess looked like a deer caught in headlights. She quickly wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Oh. Hey, Caitlyn.” She stood up. “I was just leaving.”

“Hang on,” said Caitlyn, running across the cabin and out the door onto the front porch with Tess. “What's up? Is something wrong?”

Tess bit her bottom lip and shook her blond head. “No,” she said. “Why would you think that?”

Mac had come outside and joined them on the front porch.

“Umm . . . maybe because you're crying?” Caitlyn said, trying not to sound too sarcastic. She knew Tess's guard went up quickly.

Tess sucked in her lower lip and looked up at the blue sky. It was obvious she was trying to stop crying, but a tear slid down her cheek anyway. “Fine,” she said, deciding she couldn't hide it this time. “I'm just upset because I found out something about the concert.”

“What'd you find out?” Mac asked, leaning against a wood post.

Tess took a deep breath. She barely knew Mac and didn't exactly get along with Caitlyn, but she had to tell someone. If she didn't, she was afraid she'd be teary— and blotchy—forever. “One of the concert organizers slipped and said that they only invited me to perform because my mom
made
them,” she spat.

Tess tried to look really mad but couldn't. Instead, her bottom lip trembled and her eyes filled with more tears.

Caitlyn looked at Mac, unsure of what to do. He shrugged, as if to say, “I have no clue, it's a girl thing.” Moving closer to Tess, Caitlyn awkwardly put an arm around the girl's shoulders.

“It's okay, Tess,” Caitlyn said, trying to sound reassuring. “It doesn't matter how you got on the lineup. You're totally gonna rock the concert. That's all that matters!”

Tess sniffled.

Caitlyn was saved from having to offer more advice by Ella.

“Tess?” the other girl said, coming up the path toward the rehearsal cabin. Lorraine was right beside her.

Hearing Ella's voice, Tess pulled out from under Caitlyn's arm and quickly wiped her eyes.

“Oh, hey, Ella,” Tess said casually, spinning to face them. Her “plastic” face was on again. “What's up?”

“Were you crying?” Lorraine asked, looking concerned and confused.

“No,” Tess said quickly. “A bug just flew in my eye. Caitlyn and Mac were helping me get it out.”

Tess shot the pair a look, daring them to contradict her.

“Yeah,” Mac said. “We were just helping her get a gnat out of her lie—I mean
eye
.”

Caitlyn giggled but said nothing.

Tess gave them one last look and then walked off the porch. “Thanks, Caitlyn,” she said over her shoulder as she headed toward the path that led to the lake, Ella and Lorraine on either side. Her moment of vulnerability was apparently over.

Caitlyn sighed as Tess disappeared around the bend. When she looked at Mac, they both doubled over in laughter.

“ ‘Out of her
lie
?' ” repeated Caitlyn.

Mac grinned. “Couldn't help it.”

“It's all fun and games until someone loses a lie, you know,” Caitlyn cracked.

“I guess you and I see lie to lie on the matter,” Mac joked.

“I'm keeping my lie on you, Wilson,” Caitlyn teased.

“Fine by me!” said Mac. “I've been keeping mine on you.”

Caitlyn blushed. She never thought she'd say this, but it seemed Mac's Southern charm was working. For a little while, she'd forgotten that her best friend had done a personality switch. Caitlyn just hoped that diva Mitchie would disappear as quickly as she had appeared.

C
HAPTER
S
IX