Camp Rock.2 Page

“I don’t remember—”

Mitchie stood, brushing off her shorts. “Come on, rock star. We’ve got kids to inspire.” The Final Jam was Camp Rock’s biggest night. Every session, the campers formed bands, wrote originals, and performed for bragging rights and a golden guitar pick. But this year, something was off.

“Nothing.” He pulled her close, ignoring the cheering kids. “Just writing a song.” camp rock.2

“Hey,” Mitchie said softly, sitting on the log beside her. “You okay?”

“He’s trying to help,” Mitchie said, though she wasn’t sure she believed it. That night, Mitchie couldn’t sleep. She walked to the old fire pit, where the embers of the night’s campfire still glowed. Someone was already there—Rosa, the Junior, crying into her hoodie sleeves. “I don’t remember—” Mitchie stood, brushing off her

“Music isn’t fair,” Mitchie said. “It’s honest. And honesty is messy. But it’s the only thing that’s ever worked at this camp.” She looked at Rosa, who was clutching a crumpled piece of paper. “Who wants to go first?”

They were the ones you got to keep living. Every session, the campers formed bands, wrote originals,

The campers exchanged nervous glances. Liam stepped forward. “That’s not fair to the kids who prepared—”