Inspired by a dream I had. Story started writing itself in my head. Couldn't ignore it. Same thing happened for We'll Never Be More Than This. That ended up being my favorite story. So I knew I really needed to write this. Totally unplanned. This is actually a prequel to the real story that formed in my head. But that story requires quite a lot of background information. So this story is being written solely for the purpose of writing the sequel. Enjoy.

Rating: M (trust me, M for a reason); Pairing: Mitchie/Alex; Somewhat OOC and AU.

Femslash. Girlxgirl. Don't like? Don't read.

Disclaimer: I do not own Wizards of Waverly Place or Camp Rock (or Twilight).

Mitchie Torres was always the good girl. Straight-A student, and in all advanced classes. In the hallways at school, she would most likely be seen with her nose in a book. She had few friends, only one in fact, but it didn't bother her much. She was more focused on her studies. See, her family wasn't exactly the richest. Actually, they barely had enough money to send her to summer camp. So she knew she had to get spectacular grades in order for her to get a full-paid scholarship to the college of her choosing. Heck, any college.

She even applied for a job to earn extra cash. That's not unusual for a teenager, a sixteen year old, to be exact. Most teenagers get jobs for a little extra spending money, to buy those all important CDs or the newest Twilight movie on DVD or the latest fashion nonsense. Mitchie wasn't a normal teenager, though. Every single cent she got from her job was put into a college savings fund that she set up herself at the age of twelve. At the time, the only job she could get was babysitting for the neighbors after school and on the weekends, but still every penny went into that account. When she was old enough, she applied for a job at a local burger stand called Barney's Burgers, where they sell burgers with a Barney smile. And on her days off, she would still babysit.

Every now and then, though, Mitchie would dip into the account. She would take out only as much as she needed. And she wouldn't spend it on clothes−her mother bought her clothes. She didn't need it to buy more books−she received an allowance from her parents, and that was enough to buy her a new book whenever she needed one; plus, that's what libraries are for. No, the only thing Mitchie spent her hard-earned money on was something involving music.

Music was Mitchie's passion. She loved singing and playing guitar and piano. You might say it was the only normal teenage thing she did, but that wouldn't be accurate. Yes, many teens do enjoy music as a hobby. But it wasn't a hobby for Mitchie. It was a dream, a desire. When she wasn't doing homework or working some poorly-paying job, Mitchie was working on her music. Over the years, she had acquired enough equipment to have her own recording studio right there in her bedroom. She would play the guitar and the piano and sing songs she wrote all on her own. As for the bass, there was a guy at school she paid to come over just to record that part of the song. She couldn't really call him a friend, even if he was at her house more than Sierra (her one friend); he was just a person that helped her to record her music. And as for drums, she didn't know anyone who played drums. So she had to buy a drum machine and use pre-recorded beats. It brought down the quality of her songs most of the time, but it was all she had. And the only thing that made her feel better about spending her college money was the fact that she was spending it on music. And since she planned to go to college to study music, the money was still technically used for college.

Not only did Mitchie act like a good girl, but she also dressed like one. Her brown hair was long and always straight. It fell a few inches past her shoulders and her bangs were cut the perfect length. They were never in her eyes. And her clothes were never revealing. She wore plain colors, nothing too bright to attract much attention. Nothing she owned had sequins or anything that would sparkle in the light. She didn't own a single pair of heels. The young girl had been a klutz all her life, so being any higher off the ground that her normal 5'2" was a death wish. Mostly she wore fashionable, yet modest boots.

Mitchie never really took risks. She played by the rules and stayed in her safe, protective, little world. But keeping up the good girl image and trying to be perfect all the time could get tiring. Mitchie had dreams of being something more than what she was: the good, local girl that was most likely going to be valedictorian when she graduated in her senior year. Sure, the idea was nice, but she had bigger goals. She wanted to pursue a music career. If it was successful, the money made could help her to pay for school. Which is why she took an interest in Camp Rock. Unfortunately, the summer music camp was extremely expensive, and her parents could not swing it.

But she begged and pleaded, knowing in her gut it was important for her to go. She wasn't sure why, but she had this instinct that fate wanted her to be there. She knew that no matter what happened there, it would change her life forever. However, fate did not seem on her side. Even if her parents emptied their bank account, there was no way they could afford to send her. So Mitchie attended her last day of sophomore year very much down in the dumps. Then at work at Barney's, she almost cried, knowing she'd be spending her entire summer serving fattening food to rude customers and getting boogers wiped on her by the neighborhood children she would watch on her days off. It was the most depressing thought ever.

When work was over, she returned home. She was sad, but her parents seemed giddy. This upset her very much until her dad was no longer able to contain his excitement for his daughter. He made his wife reveal the news that yes, Mitchie would be going to Camp Rock that summer. Connie, Mitchie's mother, owned a catering service that was chosen to feed the attendants of the summer music camp. Mitchie would have to help in the kitchen, but she would be able to go to Camp Rock because her mother was receiving a discount. Mitchie went wild with excitement, feeling that her dreams were coming true.

As soon as Mitchie and Connie arrived at Camp Rock, however, the teenage girl discovered she was getting a little more than she'd bargained for. These kids−campers− could all afford to come here, and it barely made a dent in their parents' bank accounts. These young, talented musicians were the best of the best because their parents could hire the best music teachers in the world. Mitchie learned to play guitar from her father and piano from her grandfather−before he died, that is. She'd had no professional training for her voice, only having raw, natural talent. What made her think she could compete with these kids? Camp Rock wasn't a place where you just blend into the background like at high school. You had to stand out. Her normal tendencies weren't going to cut it. She couldn't simply study into all hours of the night, like she did in order to make those straight A's. She had to show what she had and make a name for herself. That was the only way to make friends and fit in, to make other people envy her.

So she rejected the friendship of Caitlyn Geller, whom was so nice and easy to get along with, and bowed at the feet of Tess Tyler, daughter of a world famous singer. She made up a crazy, wild story about her fake life, with a mother that was the president of some record company in China. Meanwhile, she got to know Shane Gray, a spoiled pop star that was trying to shake his 'bad boy' reputation by spending the summer as a counselor at Camp Rock. Mitchie was so honored that a big somebody like Shane would pay attention to a little nobody like her. But then her whole scheme fell apart when Tess discovered Mitchie had been lying the entire time. Everyone in camp then rejected her, including Shane. Yet, there was one person who did stick by her−Caitlyn, whom Mitchie should have been friends with from the beginning. After Tess caused more drama, getting Mitchie and Caitlyn banned from Final Jam (a music competition held after lessons have been completed about mid-summer), the girls had to do some quick thinking in order for Mitchie to still be able to sing. And when she did, Shane came running back to Mitchie. Apparently, he'd heard a mystery girl singing and had been trying to find her all summer. Wouldn't you know it, that girl was Mitchie!

So all was forgotten, and Shane asked Mitchie on a canoe ride date. She agreed to go, and they had a wonderful time. Shane was a complete gentleman, and to Mitchie, nothing could be more romantic than a canoe ride in the moonlight. But the ride had to be cut short, because there was to be a celebration party that night in Shane's cabin, hosted by him and the two other members of his band (Connect 3), Jason and Nate. This one party ended up drastically changing Mitchie's future.

Mitchie leaned against one of the tables that had been brought in for the party, crossed her arms over her chest, and sighed. Shane had asked her during the canoe ride to be his date for the party, and she'd accepted, but if she'd known that it would mean standing by herself by the snack table, she would have reconsidered. As soon as they walked in the door, Shane's hand released hers, and he was pulled into the center of the crowd of dancers. She hadn't seen him since.

That had been an hour ago, she realized as she checked the time on her phone. Anger boiled inside her. She thought he had changed over the summer and that he wasn't the inconsiderate jerk he'd been at the start of camp. Well, apparently she'd been wrong.

Tears stung her deep brown eyes, forming from the pain of yet more rejection and humiliation. Hadn't she had enough of that this summer−and her whole life, too? Maybe this was Shane's way of getting back at her for lying to him-and everyone else. This whole party might be a plot to get revenge on Mitchie, for all she knew.

Deciding she didn't want to stick around to wait and see if her suspicions were true, Mitchie pushed off the table and made her way to the door. She knew Caitlyn was probably looking for her, anyway; she hadn't gotten the chance to see her since Shane had asked her to the pond.

Goosebumps erupted on her skin in the cool night air. It was the middle of summer, so you'd think it would be warm, especially since they were in the woods of Mississippi. Yet Mitchie was still shivering, wrapping her arms around herself as she walked away from the cabin that was shaking because the music within was so loud.

"Mitchie! Wait up!" She heard a voice behind her call out.

Mitchie stopped dead in her tracks at the recognition of the voice. Setting her jaw tightly, she spun around on her heal just in time to see Shane Gray jogging up to her, his dark, straightened hair bouncing with each step.

"Where are you going?" The young pop star asked, finally reaching his date for the night. "The party's just getting started."

"I'm going back to my cabin," Mitchie said, trying to put as much venom in her voice as possible.

Shane's dark, thick eyebrows drew together in confusion. "What, why?"

"Because ever since we've gotten here you've done nothing but ignore me!" A single tear fell from Mitchie's eye and slid down her cheek. "Were you trying to hurt me, or something?"

"Of course not, Mitchie!" Shane exclaimed, taking a step forward and grasping the girl's hand. "I'm sorry I haven't been paying attention to you, but I'm the host of the party. I have to talk to everyone. You know how it is."

No, she didn't know how it was. Mitchie had never hosted a party before in her life. But she was pretty sure that just because you were the host didn't mean you had to completely ditch your date. And she was about to say so when she was stopped suddenly by Shane's eyes. They were such a deep shade of brown and seemed to sparkle in the moonlight. He was giving her that look that Mitchie had grown accustomed to seeing over the summer. It made her feel good, like she was the only thing that mattered in his world.

"You're right. I'm sorry; I'm being a fool," Mitchie said, thankful that it was dark and he couldn't see her blush.

"I'm sorry, too." Shane squeezed her hand. "I really should be trying harder to pay attention to you. Tell ya what, for the rest of the night, I'm totally yours. No one else's."

Mitchie couldn't help but smile at the thought of being the center of the most popular guy in camp's attention for the rest of the night. "Really?"

The boy nodded, smiling as well. It was a smile that made millions of girls' hearts melt. "Really."

And with that, Shane led Mitchie back to his cabin, and back into the party. The music was so loud and the bass was so high, it made Mitchie's ribcage shake. The atmosphere was so different from anything she'd ever experienced, and it made her slightly nervous. But she tried to shake off the feeling as she let Shane lead her into the center of the dance floor.

All around her, there were people dancing. Couples were all over the place, grinding on each other or dry humping. Having lived the sheltered life she had, this made Mitchie very uncomfortable, but she said nothing, not wanting to appear a prude, even if she was a prude.

Shane placed his hands on her hips and pulled her closer to him, bringing her to attention. She let out a nervous laugh and rested her hands on his shoulders. The pop star instantly began to sway to the music, effortlessly. Mitchie, on the other hand, had no sense of rhythm whatsoever. She tried to move with Shane as least awkwardly as possible, but the harder she tried, the worse she danced. Being in the middle of all these people, she felt self conscious. To her, it was as if all eyes were on the girl in the middle of the dance floor, with the most amazing guy ever, that had no business being there−her.

Shane seemed to sense her discomfort. When the song ended, he brought his hands up to his shoulders and grabbed her hands. Squeezing them in a comforting manner, he asked, "Would you like a drink?"

"Yes, please!" She shouted over the beginning of the next song.

Shane nodded and placed a quick kiss on her cheek before disappearing into the crowd. Mitchie's nerves only worsened with his absence. She didn't know what to do with herself. All the people around her were busy dancing, occasionally bumping into her. She grimaced as she was tossed this way and that, other people's sweat being wiped on her with every nudge. But she didn't want to move because she didn't know if Shane would be able to find her when he got back.

After what seemed like forever, Shane returned, finding Mitchie in almost the exact spot he'd left her, her arms placed firmly to her sides, a look of discomfort on her face, which Shane didn't seem to notice.

"Having fun?" He asked Mitchie with a grin, handing her a plastic red cup, filled to the brim with a crimson, sweet-looking liquid.

She resisted the urge to shake her head no; instead she smiled. "Oh, yeah. I'm having a blast."

"Good." Shane smiled and took a sip of his punch. Mitchie did the same, her reflexes making her spit the drink right back into the cup. It tasted nothing like she'd expected it to. Shane frowned. "What's the matter?"

Mitchie wiped her mouth, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "This doesn't taste like any punch I've ever had." She looked at the cup skeptically. "You don't think anyone spiked it, do you?"

"Mitchie, don't be ridiculous." Shane sighed. "This isn't a normal party. It's a party at a summer camp. All the bags are checked before kids are even allowed in their cabins. There is no way someone could have smuggled in alcohol."

This did make sense, but did not explain the funny taste of the drink, or the odd behavior of her peers. Sure, the campers were known to dance whenever they could, but she'd never seen them be this rowdy before.

She couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, especially when Shane put his arm around her, pulling her close. He put his face right next to hers, his hot breath hitting her lips. She could smell something that definitely resembled the scent of alcohol. But a second later, Shane's lips were on hers, and all suspicions went out the window. His lips were a bit dry and rough against hers, but Mitchie just figured it was because she was too wound up to let herself enjoy it. When she felt his tongue try to enter her mouth, though, she pulled away in shock.

Shane gave her a weird look then, one she'd never seen before. He quickly glanced at the cup in her hand, then back to her face.

"You should drink," he said with a smile. "You must be thirsty from all that dancing. I know I am." As if to prove his point, he lifted his own cups to his lips, tilted his head back, and downed the entire beverage in one gulp. Once he'd swallowed, he let out a satisfied sigh and licked his lips. Then, he looked at her expectantly.

Mitchie knew then that she had a choice to make. She could follow her gut and leave, but then Shane would probably hate her and turn the whole camp against her, again. And she still had a month left of camp to go, where she could do whatever she wanted since classes were done, but that wouldn't be any fun if everyone hated her. The second option was that she could go against her better judgment and just go with the flow tonight. Looking at Shane, she figured she had about five more seconds to make her decision. Her eyes locked with his and she went weak in the knees. Oh, what the heck. She was responsible every other night of her life. Tonight, she would just let go.

She quickly brought the plastic cup to her lips, drinking the bitter yet sweet liquid as fast as she could manage. The last mouthful was particularly hard to swallow, and she wanted to spit it out, but once glance at her date and she found the energy to choke it down.

"That's my girl." Shane gave her a toothy grin and patted her on the back. "I'll go get us some refills," he said, taking the cup from her hand.

"No thanks, I'm-" Shane was already moving through the crowd- "fine.." She trailed off, slightly irritated. Running a hand through her brown hair, she stayed in the same spot once again. Her mouth still tasted like the punch, and she couldn't get the taste out of it, no matter how many times she swallowed.

Looking through the mass of bodies, she saw Shane standing by the drink table, two drinks in his hands. He was talking to Tess, Mitchie's rival. They were standing awfully close and Shane was giving Tess that smile−the one he gave to Mitchie that made her feel so damn special. Tess leaned in close to Shane and put her hand on his arm, laughing at something he said that probably wasn't even funny.

Jealousy flowed through her body and settled in the pit of her stomach, upsetting it. As someone passed by with one of those red cups, she grabbed it from his hand and immediately started drinking from it. Shane wanted her to drink the punch so badly well fine, she would drink the blasted punch!

When Shane finally made his way back to Mitchie, he found her with her arms crossed, tapping her foot.

"Hey, I got your-" he stopped when he saw a cup in one of her hands. "Oh, you already have a-"

Mitchie quickly downed the rest of the drink, tossed the plastic red cup over her shoulder, and snatched another from Shane's hand.

The pop star smirked and put his arm around Mitchie's waist. "Okay then."

"Let's dance," she said in his ear, placing a soft kiss right under it.

She didn't have to tell him twice. Within seconds, he started swaying to the music. Mitchie found it much easier to move with him this time. Her stomach was still a little upset, but she figured it was a reaction to how the room was spinning and the way her head was starting to feel fuzzy. And that must be from all the hormones her brain was sending through her body from all this excitement. But it had nothing to do with the punch, because it was not spiked. Shane had said so himself, and she trusted him.

As they danced, Mitchie continued to drink that delicious punch, which was getting tastier with each sip. When she finished her third cup, Shane let her share with him, then waved over someone to bring them more. Mitchie took the cup greedily, getting more bold as the cup emptied.

Finally, she felt free. She didn't feel like everyone was looking at her anymore. In fact, she felt like she and Shane were the only two left in the whole cabin. As the music thumped louder and louder, Mitchie and Shane danced, bumping and grinding like the best of them, their sweat mixing together from the closeness of their bodies.

Gradually, campers started to disperse, and the music got quieter. Eventually, the only people left in the cabin were Shane, Mitchie, Nate, and Jason.

"This place is a mess," Nate observed, looking around at the wreckage in disgust while running a hand through his brown curls. There were cups everywhere, mostly on the ground, except for the ones still attached to Mitchie's and Shane's hands. "This party was a great idea, Shane," he said bitterly. Nate never did like parties; he was more of the quiet type.

"Damn right it was!" Shane said loud and obnoxiously, slinging his arm around Mitchie's shoulder. Both looked at each other and erupted in a fit of giggles.

Nate rolled his eyes at their obvious drunkenness. "Riiiiight. Well, Jason and I are going to bed. I suggest you do the same. You're going to have one hell of a headache tomorrow morning."

"I gotta walk Smitchie- Titchie- Itchie-," Shane tried to get the girl's name right, "Twitchie?"

"Mitchie!" Mitchie exclaimed, hitting him in the chest.

"Yeah, that!" He grinned. "I gotta get Mitchie back to her cabin."

"You do that then," Nate said. "Goodnight." He grabbed Jason by the shirt collar and pulled him into the smaller of the two bedrooms occupying the cabin. Jason took one last look at Shane and Mitchie before he pulled his head of straightened brown hair in the room with the rest of his body, shutting the door.

"Come on," Shane said, taking Mitchie's hand and pulling her to the other bedroom.

"I thought you were gonna bring me to my cabin?" Mitchie asked, speaking slowly, trying to get the words right.

"I liiiiied." Shane giggled, pulling Mitchie into the room with him, shutting the door behind them.

"My mom's waiting for me," the girl protested. She looked around the room, spotting the bed. "Hey, I know what you're doing!" She pointed an accusing finger at one of the three Shanes she was seeing. "I am not one of those girls. I'm not sleeping with you."

"I don't want you to." He sat on the bed. "I just want you to cuddle me!" He gave her a goofy grin and opened his arms, soon falling backwards onto the mattress.

Mitchie giggled and lay down beside him. "Okay, I can do that."

"Good." Shane kissed her forehead and wrapped his arms around her.

They lay there for all of a minute before Shane decided cuddling wasn't enough. He lifted Mitchie's chin and kissed her lips gently at first, then a bit rougher. Mitchie reciprocated, finding kissing much more enjoyable than it had been earlier that night. As he deepened the kiss, Shane rested his hand on Mitchie's waist, rubbing it gently. He pushed his tongue into her mouth. They fought for dominance, but Shane quickly won; Mitchie's tongue didn't stand a chance. During this battle, Mitchie didn't seem to notice as Shane's hand went up her shirt. When his hand closed around her breast, she squealed in surprise, accidentally biting Shane's tongue. Shane, taking this as a good sign, one to continue, quickly broke the kiss, sitting them both up, and pulling Mitchie's shirt over her head.

"Hey, now," Mitchie said, slightly cross, putting her hand on Shane's chest to stop him. "I said I wasn't sleeping with you."

"But why not?" Shane asked, sounding angry. "I love you, Mitchie."

"You do…?" The girl asked, blinking her eyes rapidly in the dark.

"Yeah." He nodded his head vigorously. "Don't you love me?"

"Yeah, I mean…I think I do." She tried to get her thoughts together. "I mean, yes. I do. I love you."

"Then prove it." Shane stood up, pulling his white and black striped shirt over his head.

Mitchie gazed at his bare chest in the moonlight, then up at his face. His eyes were burning into her. Once again, she had a decision to make. Should she reject him, and risk losing him and everyone in camp hating her again? Or should she go against everything she stood for and give in to peer pressure?

Had the punch not been spiked, Mitchie would have been capable of this rational thinking. But, the punch was spiked, despite what the naïve girl believed. So she was not capable of rational thinking.

Smiling up at him slightly, Mitchie took hold Shane's belt and started to undo it. The pop star smiled down at his innocent little pawn. Things had played out quite nicely for him that night.

As soon as his pants hit the floor, Shane pushed Mitchie back on the bed, yanking her pants off her legs, underwear and all. Her cheeks flushed in the darkness, not used to being this exposed to anyone, hardly even herself. He instructed her to remove her bra, and she did. Then he was on top of her, frantically kissing her lips, then neck, then chest. As he did this, he picked up her hands and made them rest on the elastic of his boxers. Taking his cue, the girl slid them down as much as she could until Shane moved away from her and kicked them off.

Mitchie was embarrassed to look at him, having never seen anything like… Well, that before. Until tonight, she truly had been a prude. But none of that mattered anymore. Because here she was, lying naked in bed with a guy she'd only known for a month. But he loved her, and she loved him. Or at least she thought she did. And that's all that mattered, right? Love?

"I love you," she said to Shane as he lay on top of her again.

"Shh," he shushed her, placing a finger to her lips. "Don't talk. Just relax. This is going to be fun."

Mitchie woke the next morning with the worst headache she'd ever experienced. Trying to open her eyes was extreme agony. And when she finally managed, she wished she hadn't. This was not her bedroom or her cabin. This was a very strange place to her.

Picking up her throbbing head a little, she surveyed the area, wide-eyed.

"What the…?" She was very confused to see her clothes on the floor. Her heart nearly stopped when she spotted a pair of boxer shorts. "No… I didn't."

That's when she became aware of the other person in the bed. She slowly turned over only to see Shane's sleeping face right next to hers. She lifted the covers and peeked inside, confirming that yes, neither of them were wearing anything.

"Shit, I did," Mitchie said, swearing for the first time ever in her entire life−out loud, that is.

Trying to pull herself together, she got out of the bed and started picking her clothes up off the floor, dressing in the process; the whole while she was quiet, careful not to wake up Shane.

When she'd finished making sure she had everything she needed, including her cell phone, which had been in her pants pocket, she backed out of the room slowly, closing the door quietly on the way out.

She let out a sigh, then turned to the main room of the cabin, eyes opening wide in surprise when she saw people there, which she had not expected at all.

"Mitchie?" Nate asked in disbelief, holding a broom. Jason was kneeling on the ground beside him with a dustpan.

Without a word, Mitchie bolted for the door, out into the early morning. The sun wasn't even up yet. Why Jason and Nate had been awake, she had no clue, but that didn't really matter. She just kept running, to where, she wasn't sure. But eventually, her legs brought her to the pond. She hadn't realized tears had been running down her face until her knees hit the ground at the water's edge. She erupted into sobs as the whole night came back to her: The drinking, the dancing, going into the bedroom, the kissing, followed by the discarding of clothing, the feeling of Shane over her, in her, the sound of the bed springs squeaking as it all happened. This is going to be fun, he'd said. Since when was fun painful? She'd always heard that sex was supposed to give you pleasure, but what she'd felt was not pleasure. The rumors about your first time hurting, she realized, were true.

Leaning against a log, she continued to cry as the sun started to come up. She brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, her back against the log, tear tracks marking her face, being renewed every few seconds as more tears escaped her eyes. It amazed her how there could be so much beauty in the world, like the sunset, when such horrible things happened, like the previous night.

How could she have let herself be so stupid? She'd never had a drink before in her life. Was she really that desperate for people to like her that she completely let her guard down, got drunk out of her mind, went against her morals, and gave her virginity to someone she hardly knew? Apparently, because that's what she'd done. Had they even used a condom? Thinking back, she couldn't remember Shane putting one on. Her heart dropped to her stomach at the very thought.

"Get a hold of yourself, Mitchie," she said to herself. "You probably can't remember that part because you have a splitting headache right now," she reasoned with herself, even if she could remember everything else.

After staying by the pond until she'd finished crying and she was sure her mother had left for the kitchen to start breakfast, she snuck back to her cabin, careful not to be spotted by a counselor or any other camper that was up at that hour. She didn't want anyone to see her in her current state: hair a mess, makeup smudged all over her face, eyes and nose both red and puffy, sweat dried on her skin, making her stink to high Heaven, and not to mention still wearing last night's clothes.

When she reached the cabin she shared with her mother, the first thing she did was run to the bathroom. She ripped her clothes off and turned the shower on, jumping in before the water had warmed. She'd never been so thankful that her mother had a private bathroom in her cabin until that moment. As the water cascaded over her, running down her face, breasts, stomach, and hitting the shower floor, she once again started crying. She'd thought she'd run out of tears, but apparently she still had some left. They mixed with the water from the showerhead.

As the sweat and tears washed off her body, Mitchie started to feel better. The hot water soothed her throbbing head and she was able to think more clearly. Sure, she'd made a mistake, but it wasn't the end of the world. This was the first one she'd made in her entire life, besides the big lie at the beginning of camp. She was allowed to cut herself some slack. So she would just put this behind her, act like it never happened. Just like the water was washing away her filth, it was also washing away the deed.

She kept telling herself this, desperate for anything to make her feel better about last night's actions. She didn't believe it for one second, but she figured if she kept telling herself that, maybe she would start to think it was true.

After her shower, she dressed in the most comfortable clothes she'd brought−pajamas. She was too depressed to go out to breakfast, plus she was still feeling sick from being hung over and exhausted from all the dancing and other physical activity. She winced at the thought, and quickly pushed it from her mind. She was tired because she hadn't slept much last night, she told herself. No other reason.

When she sat on her bed, she nearly cried out in pain. Sitting hurt her. She bit her lip to prevent herself from crying as she moved under the covers and lay down. Pulling the blankets up to her neck, she closed her eyes, but the images from last night started playing themselves in her head.

After fighting tears and memories for what seemed like forever, Mitchie was finally able to fall asleep, only to be awakened an hour later when her mother came back from the kitchens.

"What on Earth happened to you last night?" Connie Torres exclaimed when she found her daughter safe and sound in bed, not where she'd been when she left.

Mitchie winced at her mother's loud voice, her head still panging slightly. Rubbing one eye, she lifted herself up on her elbow. "I stayed at Caitlyn's cabin last night. No big deal," she lied smoothly.

"I saw Caitlyn at breakfast and she said she hadn't seen you." Her mother placed her hands on her hips.

Oops. "Yeah, well, I left early, before she woke up, came back here, and went back to sleep," Mitchie said, surprising herself with the very convincing lie she had come up with.

"Why?" Connie's eyes narrowed, apparently not buying it.

"Because I don't feel well, Mom," Mitchie whined. "My head and my stomach hurt, so that's why I wasn't at breakfast, too, in case you were wondering."

Connie's scowl quickly slipped off her face as concern for her daughter replaced her suspicion. "Oh, my poor baby!" She exclaimed, rushing over to the bed and putting her hand on Mitchie's forehead. "Do you have a fever?"

Mitchie shook her head, pushing her mom's hand off. "No, I just didn't fell well, but I'm a little better." She sat up, wincing again because this still hurt. "I think I might need some fresh air. I'm going to go for a walk." She threw the covers off her aching body and swung her legs over the side of the bed.

"Are you sure?" Connie asked. "Your eyes and nose are red. Maybe it's allergies?"

Mitchie went over to the dresser and looked in the mirror, seeing that yes, her eyes and nose were a nice pink shade and still slightly swollen. Also, her hair was a complete mess from her going to bed with it wet. "I'll be fine, Mom. I got the rest I needed, now I need air. Plus, I need to go find Caitlyn and, uh… Explain why I left so early."

"Alright, honey," Connie said, crossing over to her daughter and kissing her temple. "I have to get back to the kitchen to finish cleaning from breakfast and start on lunch. If you start feeling sick again, you get yourself back in bed. And if you need anything, my cell phone will be on, so just call me, and I'll come rushing back."

"Okay, Mommy, thanks," Mitchie said sweetly, a small smile on her face, trying to hide the lump in her throat. As she watched her mom walk out the cabin door, she felt the urge to call her back, to collapse in her protective embrace, cry her eyes out, and tell her mother everything, just like she used to do when she was ten (which was probably the last time she' referred to her mother as Mommy). But she knew this wouldn't be the same. Sex and having dirt kicked in your face on the playground were in two totally different worlds. This was not something she could tell her mother.

Mitchie dressed herself in the most comfy thing she owned besides her pajamas: sweat pants that reached just past her knees, a plain t-shirt, and a pair of Converse−the one pair of sneakers she owned. After she pulled her hair up into a messy ponytail, she slipped her sunglasses on, letting them rest on the bridge of her nose. She knew the sun would be murder on her eyes and make her headache come back without them.

Exiting the cabin, she took a quick survey of her surroundings. A few people were out an about, and no one seemed to be looking at her strangely, so apparently word hadn't spread about her spending the night at Connect 3's cabin. Of course, only four people knew about that. Jason and Nate wouldn't tell because they respected women too much. She was sure Shane wasn't even awake yet to tell anyone, and she sure as hell wasn't running her mouth about it. That meant no one had seen her leave, so her secret was still an actual secret.

With a small sigh of relief, Mitchie started making her way to the cabin where break dance classes were usually held. This was where she'd most likely find Caitlyn. Opening the double doors and peaking in, she realized she'd been correct to assume her friend would be here. Mitchie spotted the head of light brown curls instantly, bouncing up and down to the beat of some song.

"Hey, Geller!" Mitchie called out over the music, an amused smile on her face.

Caitlyn nearly jumped a foot in the air, surprised that she wasn't alone anymore. She turned to see the smiling face of her best friend. "Hey, Mitch," she greeted. "Nice of you to turn up. Your mom's been looking for you all morning." She walked over to the stereo at the corner of the room and switched if off; she picked a towel up off the floor and wiped the sweat from the back of her neck. Caitlyn had been enjoying having the dance room to herself, since she was the only one up because pretty much everyone else was hung over from Connect 3's party.

Mitchie tried to keep the smile on her face, glad her eyes were still hidden behind sunglasses. She knew that her eyes always betrayed her. "Well, turns out I was in the cabin this morning."

"And before that?" Caitlyn asked, quirking an eyebrow. She'd stopped wiping her neck and now the towel rested on either side of her shoulders, her holding the end of the towel on each side.

"Yeah, about that…" Mitchie pulled at her fingers nervously. "I kind of told her I spent the night at your cabin and left before you woke up."

"But you didn't," Caitlyn said, clearly confused.

"I know." Mitchie nodded. "But if she asks, can you please tell her that's what happened?"

"Why?" She asked, suspicion in her voice.

"Can you just please do this for me?"

Caitlyn shook her head. "I'm not covering for you unless you tell me why."

"What kind of friend are you?" Mitchie exclaimed, anger and desperation making her voice high.

"A good one," Caitlyn said calmly. "One that actually cares about you and wants to know what you're up to in case you're in trouble so she can help you."

Mitchie sighed and slid her glasses down, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You're right, I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Caitlyn's voice was quiet, and she took a step forward, placing a supportive hand on Mitchie's arm. "Now what's going on, Mitchie?"

The brunette shook her head. "Not here. Come on, take a walk with me. Let's go to the pond."

Caitlyn said nothing as Mitchie turned and walked out the cabin; she followed, dropping her towel before leaving the building and walking into the blinding morning sun. She placed her hand over her eyes, shielding them from the harmful rays, a little jealous of her friend's sunglasses.

They walked in silence until they reached the pond. The two girls walked along the bank for a few minutes until they were so out of the way of the last of the cabins that there was no way there would be anyone around to overhear. When Mitchie reached a spot that seemed to satisfy her, she sat Indian style in the sand, removing her shoes and socks immediately. Caitlyn sat across from her friend, facing her, and mirroring her actions, placing her socks inside her shoes a few inches away.

"You didn't go to Shane's party last night, did you?" Mitchie asked suddenly, eyes downcast.

Caitlyn shook her head, moving her legs out of Indian style. "Wasn't exactly invited." She brought her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, gazing at Mitchie with her big brown eyes.

"I went," Mitchie said quietly. When Caitlyn didn't respond, she continued. "Someone spiked the punch."

"You didn't drink any, did you?" Caitlyn asked, digging her toes in the sand. She thought she had an answer, but she wanted to make sure she was wrong.

"No, Caitlyn." Mitchie shook her head. "I drank. I drank a lot."

Caitlyn exhaled loudly through her nose. So she had been right. "What did you do?"

The young singer didn't answer, a mixture of not wanting to and not being able to because she couldn't find her voice. That worried her friend sitting right across from her.

"Mitchie, what did you do?" Caitlyn asked again, a little louder.

A single tear slid out from behind the sunglasses. "Shane," Mitchie said, her chin quivering.

"Shane? What about him?" Caitlyn asked, Mitchie's only response letting more tears slide down her face. Realization hit Caitlyn hard in the face. "Tell me you didn't sleep with him, Mitchie! Tell me you didn't!"

Mitchie snatched off her sunglasses, looking at her friend with bloodshot brown eyes. "I can't, because I did," she said, her voice hard. She stared at Caitlyn for a few seconds with a blank expression, then her face crumpled and a sob rippled through her chest, erupting out of her.

"Oh, honey," Caitlyn said, scrabbling over to her friend's side and taking the crying girl in her arms, pulling her onto her lap. Mitchie buried her face in Caitlyn's neck, finding her friend's touch very soothing. Caitlyn stroked the other girl's hair, whispering soothing messages like "it'll be okay" and "don't worry, everything's going to be fine" into her ear the entire time. When Mitchie finally settled down, the only sound that could be heard was her sniffling, trying to breathe from her stuffy noise.

"I didn't think it was humanly possible to cry as much as I have today," she said softly, her head resting on Caitlyn's shoulder.

"You used protection, didn't you?" Caitlyn asked suddenly, her voice urgent. She got no answer from the girl in her lap. "Mitchie!"

"I don't remember, okay?" Mitchie said defensively, removing herself from her friend's arms and standing up. "I was drunk."

"You didn't see one on the floor or in the bed or the trash when you left this morning?" Caitlyn questioned, standing as well.

"I was a little too freaked out at the time to go on a condom quest, Caitlyn!" Mitchie snarled, crossing her arms over her chest, and moving to stand by the water's edge, looking out over it.

Caitlyn sighed and walked over to her friend, putting her hand on her shoulder from behind her. "You need to talk to him, Mitchie."

"I know, Cay. I know," came Mitchie's voice, quietly.

After Mitchie pulled herself together, she and Caitlyn started making their way to Connect 3's cabin, Caitlyn holding Mitchie's hand tightly for support. When they reached their destination, the girls stood outside, facing it, neither of them saying anything.

"Want me to go in with you?" Caitlyn asked, breaking the silence.

"No." Mitchie shook her head. "This is something I have to do by myself. But promise me you'll be here waiting for me when I come out?" She looked at her friend.

"Of course," Caitlyn said, pulling Mitchie into a hug. "Good luck."

Mitchie pulled out of the hug with a weak smile. Taking a deep breath, she walked up the steps to the cabin and knocked on the door. Straining to listen for sound from within, she waited for an answer that never came. She looked over her shoulder at Caitlyn, giving her a questioning look, who shrugged in return. Mitchie gulped and grabbed the door handle, pulling it open and slipping inside. The main room was dark, so she reached over and switched on the light. The room had been completely cleaned from the night before, and there was no sign of life. Not even a guitar left lying around. Her feet took her to the room she'd snuck out of that morning, and she threw the door open. With panic stricken eyes, she realized that the room had been stripped almost bear. There were no hair products on the dresser, and the drawers, which had been left open, were empty. Shane's clothes didn't litter the floor, either. But there, on the floor next to the bed, were two empty bottles of vodka, the bottles Shane had sworn no one could smuggle in. Except maybe a counselor…

Slapping her hand to her mouth in horror, she turned and ran out the cabin, back to Caitlyn.

"What's wrong?" the curly haired girl asked, seeing the look on her friend's face.

"He's gone. All his clothes, all his stuff. Everything's gone," Mitchie said, her breath coming in short gasps.

"He can't be, Brown wouldn't let him go," Caitlyn said, shaking her head. "He's a counselor and we still have a month left of camp to go."

"But all the classes are done!" Mitchie threw her arms up in the air in frustration. "He's not needed anymore."

"Calm down, Mitchie!" Caitlyn put her hands on the panicking girl's shoulders. "We'll go talk to Brown and get this all sorted out."

"Get what sorted out?" A man's voice with a British accent asked. Both girls turned to see their camp director, Brown Cesario walking up to them in his usual band shirt, jeans, and leather jacket.

"Brown," Caitlyn put on her sweet smile she reserved for adults, "we were just wondering if you'd seen Shane."

Brown scratched the back of his neck, a little annoyance showing on his face. "Yes, I have. Mr. Pop Star left this morning."

"Left?" Caitlyn asked. Mitchie grabbed hold of her friend's arm and dug her nails in, panic returning. Caitlyn winced slightly. It would have hurt more if she hadn't started to panic, herself. "What do you mean he left?"

"I mean he left," Brown said. "He's gone."

"But he'll be coming back, right?" Caitlyn asked, trying to keep the smile on her face.

Brown shook his head. "No, he won't. His manager saw how 'well he was doing at Final Jam' and whisked him away this morning, saying something about his summer European tour being un-cancelled. Since classes are done, I figured I didn't need the little brat here anymore anyway, so I just let them go." There was bitterness in his voice. "You know, I thought he'd changed and that he actually liked it here." Brown shook his head and walked away, muttering to himself about his ungrateful nephew, completely oblivious to the two girls he had been talking to that were suddenly deathly pale.

"Okay, don't panic," Caitlyn said, trying to sound more confident than she felt. "You have his cell number, right? You can call him!"

Mitchie nodded, not being able to say anything. She quickly reached into her pocket, pulled out her phone, and flipped it open, going through her contacts and selecting the number, then pressing the device to her ear.

We're sorry, but the number you dialed has been disconnected, an operator's voice said instead of the phone ringing.

Mitchie dropped her phone, her hand starting to shake and her jaw hanging open in horror. "Disconnected?" She said quietly.

"What?" Caitlyn exclaimed. "No, you must have had the wrong number. Here, let me try. I know this number works because I prank called him one night and he answered." Caitlyn took out her own phone and dialed the number.

We're sorry, but the number you dialed has been-

"Fuck!" Caitlyn snapped her phone closed, bringing her thumb up to her mouth and chewing on the nail. Mitchie looked at her, fear in her eyes. "His manager must have had his phone disconnected so no one from Camp Rock could contact him," Caitlyn said, removing her thumb from her mouth.

"Caitlyn, what am I going to do?" Mitchie asked, her voice shaking.

Caitlyn opened her mouth to say something reassuring, but could come up with nothing. Instead she said, "I don't know, Mitch."

Mitchie groaned and went over to the steps outside Shane's former cabin, taking a seat, resting her elbows on her knees and putting her head in her hands. Caitlyn went over and sat beside her, rubbing her friend's back in a soothing manner as her shoulders started to shake. Mitchie lifted her head, fresh tears on her cheeks, clasping her hands together in front of her.

"I'm fucked," Mitchie said. "Literally."

If you have no idea where I'm going with this, all I have to say is: Don't worry, there is a point; be patient! And no, this story is not going to be centered around a relationship between Mitchie and Shane or Caitlyn and Mitchie (even though I love Maitlyn). The story will be about Mitchie and Alex… Eventually.

Future chapters will not be this long. I just needed to open the story.

Review, tell me your thoughts.