Girl vs. Boy Band

by Harmony Jones

  “NEXT!”

  By five o’clock, Lark was ready to call it quits. She couldn’t believe she’d actually been looking forward to this.

  Most of the boys had the right look—wholesomely handsome with a dash of mischief in their eyes, trendy haircuts, hip clothing. But there were a few that had Lark wondering if perhaps maybe Jared had been right about the aliens invading . . . except they’d turned up earlier than expected.

  One boy, who called himself Ink, was so covered in tattoos that he looked like a building that had been vandalized with graffiti. Another kid had shaved half his head and wore his remaining hair in multicolored dreadlocks; yet another had an earring in each nostril and wore a dog collar with a leash. On the opposite end of the spectrum was a bespectacled boy in an argyle sweater and bow tie who wore his hair parted neatly on the side and greased into place like a 1950s businessman. Based on his appearance, his earsplitting, punk-rock rendition of “God Bless America” came as a bit of a shock.

  Then there was the boy in the traditional Scottish kilt who seemed promising until he dared Lark to guess what he was wearing underneath his tartan. Jas showed him the door—fast.

  By the end of the day they’d asked only three performers to remain for a second interview.

  “Lark, you and Mimi don’t have to stay for the callbacks,” said Donna wearily. “I just want to see how these three interact with Max and Ollie, to test whether there’s any chemistry.”

  “If there is, I’ll bet it’s a toxic explosion,” said Mimi, gathering her camera equipment.

  Donna managed a halfhearted laugh. But the truth of the matter was that if they didn’t find someone talented—and normal—enough to replace Aidan, they would have to reinvent Abbey Road as a duo. And that was far from ideal.

  “I’ve called a car for you,” said Donna. “It’s waiting out front.” Then she kissed Lark on the forehead and rolled her eyes. “Have Mrs. Fitzpatrick keep dinner warm for the rest of us. Something tells me this could take a while.”

  “I’ll walk you out,” Max offered, carrying Mimi’s tripod.

  “Are you sure you’re not a duke or an earl or something?” Mimi asked, grinning. “Because your manners rock.”

  “Yeah, that’s me,” Max said. “The Duke of Camden Town.” Then he muttered something that Lark thought sounded like, “And I wish I could go back.”

  Downstairs, as Mimi loaded her camera equipment into the trunk of the car, Lark pulled Max aside.

  “You okay?” she asked softly.

  “I dunno.” Max shrugged. “Today was a bit of a letdown.”

  Lark wished she could argue with him. “I’m sorry about that.”

  “Not your fault,” said Max, tapping her chin in a brotherly manner. “But just between us, I think maybe it was Aidan who got lucky. I’d give just about anything to be home in England right now.”

  Lark’s heart plummeted to her feet. “No! Please don’t say that. You have to stay. Ollie needs you. It means so much to my mother.” She put her hands on his shoulders and gave a squeeze. “It means a lot to me, too.”

  “Thanks,” said Max, “but it feels like Abbey Road is doomed.”

  “Promise me you won’t do anything drastic,” said Lark, giving his shoulders a little shake. “Just stay a few more weeks, okay? It might all work out. And if it does, you’ll be on top of the world. You told me yourself, your family could use the extra income. But if you quit and go home now, you’ll never know what could have happened.”

  Max was quiet for a long moment. Then he smiled. “Okay, Lark. For both of our families, I’ll tough it out a bit longer.”

  Mimi closed the trunk and got in the car. Lark slid into the backseat after her, quickly rolling down the rear window to give Max a wave and an encouraging smile.

  “Maybe one of the boys we’ve called back will surprise you,” she said hopefully.

  “Not sure how anything could be more surprising than dog collars and aliens,” Max said with a chuckle, “but I like your optimism.”

  Lark rolled up the window. Max didn’t share her positive attitude, but at least he’d agreed to stay just a little bit longer.

  With any luck, that was all it would take.

  CHAPTER

  SEVENTEEN

  On Sunday, Lark spent the day with Max and Ollie by the pool, where they filled her in on everything that had happened after she and Mimi had left the studio.

  According to Max and Ollie, the boys who’d been offered second interviews had failed to impress in an epic fashion. One had come right out and told them that his ultimate goal was to become a solo act, so he’d only be joining the band as a temporary first step in his career—if they wanted to sign him, he could give them a year, tops.

  The second contender had wanted to talk about only one thing: money. Would the band’s earnings be divided equally among the three of them, or should he, as the newcomer, expect a smaller cut? What was Donna’s fee? Who would be overseeing their investments?

  The third hopeful was simply too full of himself. He was conceited, self-centered, and just plain rude. His fatal error was asking Donna if she could set him up with the hot little redhead who’d been working the sound system.

  “Don’t call us,” Donna had snarled, strutting across the room to fling open the door. “We’ll call you.”

  The fact that the auditions had been such a failure put Lark in a grim mood to start the week. Monday seemed to drag by. The only thing that made it bearable was the knowledge that right after the last bell, she’d be meeting Teddy in the music room to rehearse.

  Her last period class—English—was nearly boring her to tears. The teacher was droning on about Apollo, or maybe it was Aphrodite, but try as she might, Lark just couldn’t stop replaying the disastrous auditions over and over in her head.

  Which was why she almost didn’t notice the note slide quietly across her desk.

  This was weird in the extreme. The only person who ever wrote her notes was Mimi, and Mimi wasn’t in this class. Lark glanced at the desk to her left, the direction from which the note had been delivered.

  C. J. Bailey, Teddy’s soccer teammate and best friend, was smiling at her.

  “From Reese,” he whispered.

  Lark opened the note, hoping her hand wouldn’t tremble.

  Bad news. Saunders needs the music room for a tuba lesson today. We’ll have to find another place to rehearse. I’ll meet you at your locker.

  Teddy

  The only thing that could have made it better was if he’d actually signed the letter “Love, Teddy.” But the fact that he knew the location of her locker was a pretty good trade-off.

  After class, Lark hurried through the crowded hallways to her locker. Teddy was already waiting there.

  “Hi.”

  “Hi.”

  “Can’t believe we got bumped from the rehearsal room.” He sighed and ran a hand through his thick hair. “I asked the wrestling coach if we could use the auxiliary gym, but the team has a match today.”

  “Probably a good thing,” said Lark, sliding her English textbook into her locker. “That gym always smells like sweat socks.”

  Teddy laughed. “I’d say we could go to my house, but my mom has her book club today. Twelve ladies crying over some slushy romance? Not exactly optimal rehearsal conditions.”

  “Barely even suboptimal,” Lark agreed.

  “So . . .”

  “So . . .”

  Lark stared into her locker; Teddy shuffled his feet. Around them, the end-of-the-day chaos seemed to fade to silence. If they couldn’t come up with an alternate venue, they were going to have to cancel their rehearsal for the day. Lark would rather sell her soul than allow that to happen, and unless it was her imagination, she had a feeling Teddy felt the same way. Because of the talent show, of course. But still . . .

  Lark summoned up all of her courage and suggested, “We can go to my house.”

  “Really?” Teddy’s face brightened. “That would be
great. And you can use your own guitar.”

  “Right. That’s what I was thinking.” Liar. What Lark had really been thinking was that from that moment on she could say that Teddy Reese had been in her house. “So we’re on, then?”

  “Def. I’ve just gotta run to my locker. What bus are you on?”

  “Seventeen. It’s usually the third one in line in the east lot.”

  “Cool. Meet you there.” He turned to walk away, then turned back and grinned. “Save me a seat?”

  Lark felt her knees wobble. “Well, I was thinking we’d just strap you to the roof, but I guess the seat thing works, too.”

  Teddy cracked up all the way down the hall, which pleased Lark immensely. She immediately texted Mimi and filled her in, right down to the joke about the bus roof.

  Since when did I get so witty?

  Mimi typed back, adding a thumbs-up emoji. Maybe Ollie’s rubbing off on you.

  Lark responded with a laughing face, then tucked her phone into her backpack.

  It wasn’t until she was on the bus that she remembered something: Ollie and Max didn’t have dance rehearsal today, which meant they’d be there when she got home . . . with Teddy!

  As she sunk into the bus seat, she knew that the tumble of nerves she was experiencing was probably what every girl felt the first time she brought home a friend of the opposite sex. She was pretty sure that Ollie and Max would tease and torment her about Teddy’s visit.

  Surprisingly, she realized that she didn’t care. She’d begun to think of Ollie and Max as her big brothers, and teasing was what big brothers did.

  Lark spotted Teddy climbing the bus steps and when he caught sight of her, he smiled.

  In that moment Lark decided that no matter how many jokes and comments Ollie and Max made about Lark having a crush, it would be totally worth it.

  The kitchen smelled of melted chocolate mixed with warm butter and sugar. The counters were cluttered with half-empty egg cartons and cans of baking powder, and there was a cooling rack on the center island that held at least two dozen cookies.

  Lark smiled; she’d picked a good day to invite someone over.

  “Mrs. Fitzpatrick?”

  The housekeeper didn’t look up from the counter, where she was rolling out more cookie dough. “Yes, dear?”

  “Um . . . I was wondering if my friend and I could have a snack?”

  “No need to be shy! Since when do you and Mimi need permission to raid the refrigerator?”

  “Well, um, it’s not Mimi. It’s Teddy.”

  This got the housekeeper’s attention! Mrs. Fitzpatrick snapped her gaze up from the floury countertop and adjusted her glasses to peer at the young man standing beside Lark in the kitchen doorway.

  “Well, well. Hello, Teddy. Welcome.”

  “Hello.”

  “This is Mrs. Fitzpatrick,” said Lark. “And you are about to have the best chocolate chip cookies you’ve ever tasted.” She was thankful that her housekeeper had decided to play it safe today—her basil and bacon brownies earlier in the week hadn’t been a success. Even the boys had refused to eat them.

  Mrs. Fitzpatrick was already selecting the most perfect cookies from the batch and arranging them on a plate. “Still warm.”

  “Thanks,” said Teddy, accepting the cookies and breathing in the heavenly aroma. “Wow. These smell incredible.”

  “Secret recipe,” Lark informed him in a stage whisper. “She won’t tell a soul what she does to it, but I think she doubles the butter or triples the sugar.”

  “My guess would be both,” said Teddy, taking a bite. The look on his face was pure joy. “And from the taste of it, I’d say she quadruples the chocolate chips!”

  Lark giggled. “You might be on to something.”

  “Milk?” Mrs. Fitzpatrick offered, rushing toward the fridge.

  “No, thanks,” said Lark, breaking off a small piece of cookie and popping it daintily into her mouth. “We’re going to rehearse, and you’re supposed to avoid dairy before you sing. It coats your vocal cords.”

  “Is that true?” asked Teddy.

  Lark shrugged. “Well, my dad swears by it.”

  “Sing?” said Mrs. Fitzpatrick. “Who’s going to sing?”

  “We are,” said Lark. “Teddy and I are performing in the talent show and we have to practice.”

  “What’s this about a talent show?”

  Lark turned to see Max and Ollie coming down the back stairs from the practice room. When Ollie reached the bottom and spotted Teddy standing beside Lark, he stopped in his tracks, causing Max to crash into him from behind.

  “I knew the smell of cookies would bring you rascals down here,” said Mrs. Fitzpatrick with a satisfied smirk. “Now, all of you, out of my kitchen. I have more baking to do. I’ll bring some cookies upstairs for you later, to snack on while you rehearse.”

  “So that’s it?” asked Max, eyeing Lark. “You two are rehearsing for your school talent show?”

  “Yep,” said Teddy, smiling sheepishly. “I guess that sounds pretty small-time to you guys, huh?”

  “Not at all, mate,” said Ollie, giving him a friendly clap on the shoulder. “How do you think we got started?”

  “We’d be happy to give you a few pointers,” Max offered. “If you’re interested.”

  “That would be great,” said Teddy. “I mean, if it’s okay with Lark.” He turned a hopeful look in her direction. “I know you’ve got that whole stage fright thing, but maybe having a small audience would be good practice.”

  “He’s right,” said Ollie.

  “Baby steps,” Max agreed. “Besides, it’s just us. We’re practically family, right?”

  Lark bit her lip. A mild tingle of panic wound its way up her spine, but it was nothing compared to what she usually felt when she thought about singing in public. She supposed that was an improvement. Max and Ollie weren’t strangers anymore. Maybe she could do it. And Teddy was right, she needed to get used to having people listen to her.

  “Okay,” she said. “But go easy on us!”

  “Never,” said Ollie.

  “Forget it!” said Max.

  “Good.” Teddy laughed. “A little constructive criticism never killed anybody.”

  Lark slid a glance at Max and Ollie, and seeing the mischievous looks in their eyes, she sincerely hoped she wasn’t making a huge mistake.

  They performed Teddy’s song just as they’d done in the music room at school.

  Lark’s and Teddy’s voices combined flawlessly for the final “yeah,” then faded away as Lark strummed the last chord.

  Silence followed. And then . . .

  Both boys were on their feet, applauding!

  “That was ace!”

  “Wicked!”

  Ollie darted across the room to give Teddy a fist bump. “You’ve got pipes, mate!”

  “Thanks.”

  “No, seriously,” said Max. “You can sing. You’re as good as Ollie.”

  To Lark’s delight, Teddy blushed. “Well, I wouldn’t say that.”

  “Neither would I,” joked Ollie. “But that doesn’t mean it isn’t true.”

  As if he suddenly remembered she was in the room, Max turned to Lark. “Oh, and you were great, too, Lark. Nice one.”

  Lark smiled. It was clearly an afterthought, but she didn’t mind. Teddy was the one who’d done most of the singing, after all, and she could tell this praise from the older boys meant the world to him.

  “Do you play an instrument?” Ollie asked.

  By way of response, Teddy positioned himself at the keyboard and played the Beatles’ “Let It Be.”

  Max’s eyes went wide.

  Ollie’s brows shot up. “Okay, who are you really, and what have you done with Paul McCartney?”

  Teddy laughed. “That’s pretty much the best compliment I’ve ever gotten.”

  “Seems there’s no end to your talent,” Max observed.

  “You should see him play soccer,” said Lark.
/>   At this, Max and Ollie exchanged a look.

  “I think you mean football,” Ollie corrected. “Doesn’t matter. Just tell me there’s a ball somewhere in that garage of yours.”

  “Well, yeah, there is, but—”

  “Come on, then,” said Max, dropping an arm around Teddy’s shoulders. “Let’s put that huge lawn to good use. We haven’t had a decent kickabout since we got here. Oi, Ollie, where did I leave my trainers?”

  “Wait!” said Lark. “What are y’all doing? Teddy and I have to rehearse. The talent show is Friday night!”

  Laughing, Ollie took her face in his hands and planted a loud kiss in the middle of her forehead. “All work and no play . . . you know how that goes. Come on! You can be in goal.”

  “But the song—”

  “Is already brilliant. Now go change into something you don’t mind getting mucky, because when Maxie and I play football, we show no mercy.”

  For the next two hours, it was Lark and Max versus Ollie and Teddy. The boys were as impressed with Teddy’s fancy footwork as they were with his singing and piano playing. They were quick to congratulate Lark, who’d only played two years of youth soccer back in Nashville, for holding her own.

  When Teddy scored for the fourth time, Ollie gave him a high five. “I’m surprised you haven’t already been signed by LA Galaxy,” he teased.

  “So,” said Max, scooping up the soccer ball and tucking it under his arm, “I’m thinking that if your moves on the pitch are this good, your moves on the dance floor must be pretty slick as well.”

  Teddy grinned. “That sounds like a challenge.”

  They all trooped into the pratice room above the garage. The following hour was spent demonstrating Jasper’s dance combinations for Teddy to see how quickly he could pick them up. Very quickly, it turned out.

  Finally Teddy held up his hands in surrender. “This was awesome,” he said, catching his breath. “But my mom’s gonna be here in a few minutes.” He looked disappointed about leaving.

  “Don’t forget your backpack,” said Lark. “Fitzy probably put it in my bedroom.”

  As Teddy followed her out of the room, Lark prayed the boys wouldn’t make any goofy remarks about the two of them going off alone together.