Songs Not Yet Written - Camp Rock, PG-13

Mitchie meant it when she thanked her parents for giving her the best summer of her life. She made friends she wouldn't forget; she performed in front of everyone; she proved to herself and to the world—as it existed in that moment—who she truly was and what she was really about. She had held Shane Gray's hands in both of her own and won him over completely. These were the picture-perfect moments that she would talk about and share for months to come.

But when she thought about that summer, none of those memories came to mind.

From the moment Mitchie arrived on the campgrounds, it had been about her. The summer had not been about proving herself, or forming a connection with Shane, or sharing her music with the world, or bonding with Caitlyn, or trying to be popular. It had always, only been about Tess.

Mitchie didn't want to think about what that might mean. Because at first—at first—it seemed simple. It seemed a matter of making new friends, of standing out for once, of being popular. And it had nothing (absolutely nothing) to do with the way she had noticed Tess' hair gleam in the sunlight the first time she laid eyes on her. It had nothing to do with the feelings she got watching the way Tess carried herself, the way she laughed, the way she smiled, the way she moved with the music when she sang. Because those were just feelings of admiration, of wanting to be accepted, of borderline idol-worship so common among teenage girls. And it definitely had nothing to do with being so excited to share a cabin with her, or the way she felt her mouth turn dry and her stomach do flips when Tess insisted that Mitchie take the bed next to hers.

Of course it had nothing to do with any of that, Mitchie told herself. Yet she was the only girl at the entire camp not obsessing over Shane Gray's presence, instead focusing all her energy on trying to impress Tess. On trying to win over this girl she barely seemed to know, on forming a relationship that she could not explain—not to Caitlyn, or her own mother, or to Shane months later when he'd ask her about it as they lay in each other's arms pretending—because explanations were too complicated.

What scared Mitchie the most was that she did know Tess. One look at her was enough to know that Tess needed to be saved as badly as she did, and Mitchie—out of her element as she was—convinced herself that she would be the one to do it. Regardless of the lies she'd have to tell along the way.

And naturally it fell apart, because that was how these things went. Because Tess had the upper hand; she always did. Mitchie hated her for it, for using that magnetism on her and pulling her in, because now there was no way out. She could sit in classroom corners, she could hide from the world and cry, but escaping Tess's forcefield was an impossibility. She could sing, she could dance, but she could not start or stop this.

Mitchie shouldn't have been surprised when their fight felt more like a breakup than the end of a friendship. And she shouldn't have been so pleased when Tess finally apologized. She shouldn't have acted like it was nothing, because it wasn't nothing, and she shouldn't have been lying in bed wide awake at two a.m. on her last night at camp still thinking about it, so she stopped. She needed to get out of her head and out of these thoughts, so she grabbed her sweater and walked around outside for a while but of course found herself standing before Tess' cabin, because it was the direction she had been walking in all along, the entire summer. The door was unlatched and she made her way across the room quietly, placing a hand on the other girl's small shoulder.

"Tess," she whispered. "Tess."

A few moments passed before Tess opened her eyes, and she smiled when she saw Mitchie. "Hey."

Mitchie realized her hand was still on her shoulder, and she pulled it away. "I just... um. I wanted to tell you how much your apology meant to me. I felt like I didn't make that clear before."

Tess pulled herself up in bed and rubbed her eyes. "You came over here to tell me that?"

"Well, sure. I guess."

Tess smiled. "My apology shouldn't have meant much. I treated you like shit."

"It's—it's okay," Mitchie said, embarrassed. "I mean. You didn't. I mean, I guess, it could have been worse..." She could feel herself blushing. Tess always had that effect. Mitchie wanted to hate her for it, but—couldn't.

Tess didn't say anything, and Mitchie found herself feeling increasingly stupid. Maybe this was a bad idea. But then—somewhat shyly, Tess said, "The ironic thing is how I tried to drag you down, when I'd give anything for a mom like yours." Mitchie was quiet. "I mean, did you see my mom tonight? Did you see me?" Tess laughed; it was harsh against the silence. Then, softly, "How do you like that? The girl who tries to be so big and scary is the most fragile of all."

Mitchie still couldn't think of anything to say, but she tried. "Tess, I—"

"No, forget it. I'm happy for you, Mitchie. Look at all you've done. You were so brave tonight. You really proved yourself"—she paused, smiling—"and Shane Gray seems quite fond of you."

Mitchie could see her eyes shining in the dark. She had trouble finding the words, but finally they came: "It was never really about that though, was it?"

Tess didn't respond, and for the first time Mitchie felt like maybe the playing field had evened out between them, the power had finally shifted and for once, she could be in control. Maybe she could take charge for once and Tess would let her. Maybe, this time, she could lean in and kiss Tess on the lips and not worry about how she would react to her every tiny move. So Mitchie leaned in. And she kissed her. And she stopped thinking about what it may or may not mean, because it was the first truly honest thing she had done all summer.

She still had a long way to go, of course. But she could smile later that night as she finally fell asleep, thinking about how the next summer would be even better. She could hum lyrics to songs not yet written.