The campers exchanged nervous glances. Liam stepped forward. “That’s not fair to the kids who prepared—”
They were the ones you got to keep living.
“What?” she said.
Rosa walked to the piano. Her hands shook. She placed the sheet music—Liam’s pristine arrangements—on the floor. Then she closed her eyes and played the song about her grandma’s garden. It was rough. She forgot the lyrics twice. Her voice cracked on the high note.
“That’s the song,” Mitchie whispered. “Not the polished one. This one.” The next morning, Mitchie called an all-camp meeting. Liam stood at the back, arms crossed. camp rock.2
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.
He sat beside her, close enough that their shoulders almost touched. “Find any?” The campers exchanged nervous glances
“Hey,” Mitchie said softly, sitting on the log beside her. “You okay?”