I pulled on my Converse in my garage, liking the way the scuffed bottoms were worn smooth.

Why was I wearing my junky old sneakers?

I have one disastrous word for you: camping.

Not only camping with the family, but camping with the entire freakin' junior year.

We were taking three school-buses to the nearest camp in Arizona: Camp Wilmstone.

Now, the teachers told us that - since the year was almost over - that this trip should be special, memorable, and without drama. Special? Yes. Memorable? Definitely. Without drama? Hah. No way.

Not that I knew it at the time - all I knew was that we were spending a stupid week in the wilderness, and there was no amp to plug my guitar into.

A few minutes later, my mom drove me to school, hugged me goodbye, and told me to stay out of trouble. Yeah, right. Trouble finds me.

In first period, Lemonade Mouth found out we were supposed to go to the courtyard to board our buses.

"Aw, come on, Stells - it'll be fun!" Wen nudged me with his elbow, throwing his backpack over his shoulder. I half-heartedly smiled for his sake, then huffed to the side as he turned to fake-fight with Charlie.

I had a backpack with me that brought back memories: I had it on my first day at Mesa High. Also, I was wearing my favorite black skinnies, and a navy-blue shirt layered under a black tank top. Oh - and my Converse, of course.

I had just brought the essentials for this trip: toothbrush, pajamas, some clothes, and my iPod. Technically, we weren't allowed to bring it - but I was good at sneaking things in.

Olivia came up beside me, bubbly and ready-to-go.

"So, who are you sitting with on the ride up?," she inquired, practically bouncing on her toes.

"Uh…I dunno, I didn't know we had to sit with someone." Huh?

"Oh, yeah. We have to have "buddies", apparently - just for the ride up. So…like if, a murderer comes in the bus, your buddy will take a bullet for you." She shrugs. "I don't know, safety reasons or something. I'm sitting with Wen!," she blurts out, smiling. I almost laughed. They so love each other.

We ran through the hallways, bursting outdoors, laughing. All of the junior year - almost 300 students - was gathered around three buses. Oh, god. I'm not claustrophobic, but this? This is too much. Suddenly, I had to pee.

I tapped Mo's shoulder. "I'll be right back, 'kay?" She smiled, and gave me a thumbs-up.

Crap. I forgot my camera in the building.

"Patty," I said, and she turned around - snapping gum and looking bored.

"What?"

"I'll be back, babe, wait for me, okay?"

She nodded, looking distracted, and then turned back to talk to Scott and the other cheerleaders.

I grabbed my backpack, bursting through the doors, and running into the empty classroom where I left the camera.

Shit. It wasn't there.

"Looking for this?"

I swiveled around, and there was Stella, holding my expensive - $2,000, mind that - camera.

I came closer. "Want to give that back, Yamada?"

"Nah. It's pretty cool."

"Come on, we have to go soon."

"Well, it's fun messing with you." She pretended to drop the camera, then swiftly caught it as I lunged for it. Why was she so damn frustrating?

I decided to get her angry. "You know, that could be taken in several different ways."

Stella blushed, glared at me, and tossed the camera way out of my direction. I almost didn't catch it.

"You keep out of my way," she hissed, one hand on the door. In a blink, she was gone.

Who did he think he was? The president, perhaps?

Or, maybe he was. After all, being on soccer team = ruling the whole school.

He might as well be the president.

I stomped through the hallways - as best as you can in Converse - and came to a stop in front of one of the buses.

The door was closed.

Suddenly, I was shoved out of the way from behind.

"Move it, Yamada, if you want to make it to this stupid camp."

"Can I pass on that?"

Ray stopped momentarily to roll his eyes at me, then continued pounding on the bus door with his fists. The bus driver laughed, and let us in.

Wow, it was noisy in here.

"Hey, kids," croaked the bus driver, who looked old enough to be my grandpa twice over, "There's an empty seat in the way back."

I looked at Ray, horrified. Were we…are we…buddies?

No way. No freaking way am I sitting next to Ray Beech for 12 hours. I'll turn the whole bus around.

"Please, sir," Ray pleaded, looking as desperate as I felt, "I'll sit on your lap if I have to."

The bus driver gave Ray a weird look, and pointed us both to the back.

I re-adjusted my bag, and fumbled down the bus - it was so packed in here - closely followed by Ray. I spotted Olivia and Wen, chatting in the front, and Mo and Charlie right behind them. I wasn't with the group. I was with Beech.

How sad.

Suddenly, a jock was pushed out through the aisle and I lost my balance as he slammed into some poor kid the next seat over. I fell on my back, flat on the floor, staring right into the sparkling blue eyes of Ray Beech. Our legs were intertwined together, while Ray had propped himself up on his elbows over me. Everyone was staring.

"Fun, huh?," he teased, not bothering to get up.

"Oh, you betcha," I said sarcastically, though my heart was pounding straight through my chest.

And with that, I kicked him in the stomach.

As Ray doubled over in pain, I stood up, brushing dust off my jeans, and flounced over to the back.

Might as well start the trip off on a high note, I thought to myself, throwing my legs up on the seat.