Girl vs. Boy Band (16 page)

Then, silence.

Lark waited for her mother to say something. “How could he do such a thing?” would be nice, or maybe “I never saw this coming.” Even “What is this?” would have been better than this complete and utter silence.

Lark was about to slink away in shame when Donna slowly turned her head and met Lark's gaze.

That was when Lark saw the tears in her mother's eyes.

“Aidan, may I have a word, please.”

Aidan looked up from the computer game he was playing with an expression of innocence on his handsome face. “Something wrong?”

“You bet there is,” said Donna.

Lark stood in the doorway of the practice room and watched with a mixture of amazement and satisfaction as her mother crooked her index finger at Aidan. Ollie and Max exchanged glances as their bandmate removed himself from the overstuffed chair and strutted across the room toward Lark's mother.

“In my office. Now.”

“That's an awful long walk,” said Aidan with an insolent chuckle. “Why don't you just say your piece right here?”

“Fine,” said Donna tersely. “What I've got to say is this: you're out.”

“Out?” Aidan's careless stance didn't falter. “Out of what?”

“Of his mind,” Ollie quipped under his breath.

“Out of luck,” Donna retorted. “Out of chances . . . but most of all, out of the band.”

“Seriously?” said Max.

Donna continued to glare at Aidan. “I warned you after that sneaking out nonsense that you were on thin ice. And now you go and do . . . this!”

“This?” Ollie echoed. “This what? Bloody hell, Aidan, what have you gone and done now?”

“He stole a song,” Lark explained. “From me.”

Max looked ready to spit. “You stole a song from Lark? God, Aidan, you're an even bigger jerk than I thought!”

“You can't throw me out,” said Aidan, far less relaxed now. “You don't have another keyboard player, remember? What'll you do without me?”

“We'll survive,” Donna said coolly.

“You can't prove I stole anything,” said Aidan, folding his arms across his chest defiantly.

“As a matter of fact, I can,” Donna informed him, holding out Lark's phone and pressing the Play arrow.

As the first few bars of “Homesick” filled the room, Lark was so wrapped up in the drama of the moment that she forgot to feel anxious about the boys hearing her sing.

After the first verse, Donna paused the video. “Is that not the same song you just played for me, claiming you wrote it yourself?”

Aidan looked away and said nothing. It was as good as a confession.

“That's low, Aid,” said Ollie with a disgusted shake of his head.

“Oh, and you would know, wouldn't you,” Aidan snapped. “Hard to get much lower than stealing a mate's girl.”

“I didn't steal your girl,” Ollie said, then rolled his eyes and headed for the door. “But it doesn't matter now, does it? Because you're history.”

When Ollie was gone, Donna turned a cold look to Aidan. “I've booked you on the next flight to London. A car will be here in exactly one hour to take you to LAX. Your parents have been notified.”

“Good,” Aidan said. “Because I bet my father's already rung his solicitor. I expect he'll sue you.”

“Actually,” Donna replied calmly, “I've already called
my
lawyer. Your contract with Lotus Records is being dissolved as we speak. And he's talking to another attorney, one who specializes in intellectual property. The way I see it, Lark can sue
you
for stealing her creative material and attempting to sell it as your own.”

Aidan swallowed hard but said nothing.

Donna smiled. “That's what I thought.” She gave a toss of her head in the direction of the door. “Now start packing.”

CHAPTER

FIFTEEN

Tuesday's after-school practice session with Teddy went even better than the day before. Lark sang the refrain—intentionally, this time—and their voices melded together like hot corn bread and honey butter, both great individually, and even sweeter when combined.

When rehearsal was over, Lark felt a twinge of panic. She couldn't avoid walking out with Teddy again, that would be just plain ridiculous. Today she'd have to walk with Teddy across the sprawling school building to get to the late bus. It was a thought she loved and dreaded at the same time. Cursing her shyness, she shouldered her backpack and followed him out of the music room.

“So,” he said as they made their way to end of the music corridor, “I was wondering. What's it like living with those British dudes?”

“Eventful,” was Lark's immediate response, and it earned her a chuckle from Teddy. “One day I was an only child living in a house that was way too big, and the next, I suddenly had three big brothers crowding me out of all my favorite spaces.”

“Big brothers?” Teddy repeated. “That's how it feels?”

“Yep. It feels exactly like having three loud, annoying brothers with giant appetites.”

“Oh. So then you don't, you know, have a crush on one of them or anything?”

Lark noticed that Teddy looked away when he asked that question.

“Definitely no crushes,” she said.

“Good,” Teddy said, then quickly added, “because that would probably be a little weird.”

“A lot weird,” Lark agreed.

They took the south stairwell to the first floor, then followed the administrative hallway toward the main lobby. At this time of day, the school was mostly empty except for the occasional teacher or custodian passing by. The only other student they saw was Zachary from Lark's math class, waiting outside Principal Hardy's office, miserably clutching a detention notice. Lark wasn't sure if she was relieved or disappointed that none of her classmates were there to see her walking side by side with Teddy Reese.

When they reached the main door, he held it open for her. It was an old-fashioned, gentlemanly gesture, which she knew her father would have approved of. Mimi would have rolled her eyes.

“They seem like okay guys, and they have a really distinctive sound,” Teddy observed. “That kid on keyboards, wow. Last night I tried to teach myself to play some of their songs. They were actually pretty complicated, but man, Aidan made it look easy. I think he might be the most talented musician in the band.”

“Funny you should say that,” said Lark wryly. “Because he's no longer—”

She stopped talking abruptly when she spotted her mother's SUV at the curb. And leaning beside it was her mom, wearing a long, lightweight trench coat.

And holding Lark's journal.

Lark slid into the passenger seat and waited for her mother to start the car.

“So,” Lark said, eyeing the journal, which her mother had laid carefully on top of the dashboard. “You, uh, found it.” Lark looked away, embarrassed of what her mother probably read. But she didn't want to hide anymore.

“Well, of course I found it,” said Donna, guiding the SUV away from the sidewalk. “You
did
leave it on my pillow last night.”

Lark laughed. “Not exactly subtle, huh?”

“No,” said Donna, reaching over to pat Lark's knee. “But I'm glad you did it.” She slid a sideways glance toward the passenger seat. “I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess that the boy I saw you walking with just now is Teddy, the one you've immortalized in verse?”

“Yep, that's him.”

“Well, I can see why he's inspired so many romantic doodles. He's adorable.”

Lark's cheeks burned, but it wasn't an entirely unpleasant sensation. “You don't think it's . . . silly? Or dumb?”

“Not at all. I think it's, well, I think it's just as it should be. And a girl needs to be able to confide in her mama about this sort of thing. So thank you for trusting me with your journal. The songs are so moving and powerful! No wonder Aidan tried to steal one.”

“About that,” said Lark. “What are you going to do now? About Abbey Road, I mean.”

Donna sighed, hitting the turn signal and guiding the SUV onto a road Lark had never been on before. “Well, there's a strong precedent for the success of duo acts in the music business, and financially the boys stand to enjoy larger profit margins if they pursue their career without the addition of a third party.”

“Sorry, Mom, but I'm not fluent in business jargon. Can you say that again, in English this time?”

“I can launch Max and Ollie as a duet,” Donna translated. “But somehow I don't think they'll have the same impact.”

Lark agreed. For all his sullenness, Aidan did bring a certain something to the act. She supposed they could always hire a studio musician like her father to fill Aidan's combat boots in recording sessions, but in concert, having an actual band member playing the keyboards would be important. She tried to imagine Ollie and Max onstage as a duet. But talented as they were, there was no denying that the balance would be off without a third performer in the mix.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't notice the drastic change in the scenery that was now speeding past outside her window. The mansions of Beverly Hills and the commercial buildings of Sunset Boulevard had given way to trees and mountains and winding dirt roads.

Donna parked the SUV in a post-and-beam-fenced clearing.

“Where are we?”

“We're as close as we can get to being in the Smoky Mountains without hopping on a plane,” her mom answered, getting out of the car.

Lark watched with wide eyes as her mother shed her trench coat to reveal a loose-fitting cotton camp shirt and an old pair of blue jeans. It was an outfit Lark recognized . . . she'd often worn it on the weekends back in Tennessee.

“Boots are in the trunk,” said Donna, kicking off her pricey flats and tiptoeing toward the back of the car. “I hope yours still fit.”

Lark understood at once. Tugging off her own shoes, she leaped out of the car and joined her mother at the hatchback.

They were going hiking!

“It's magnificent,” said Donna, gazing out over the vista of rolling hills and tree-lined valleys. “I'm so glad I took the afternoon off.”

“So am I,” said Lark, inhaling deeply and letting the fresh mountain air fill her lungs. They'd been trekking the trails of Franklin Canyon Park for almost two hours and, although her leg muscles ached and her cheeks and nose were burned pink, Lark couldn't have been happier. She settled herself on a large rock beside her mother and pulled in another refreshingly clean breath. “We haven't hiked since . . .”

“Since your father and I split up,” her mother finished softly. There was a ripple of sadness—or maybe guilt—beneath her words. “Remember that week we camped at Pigeon Forge?”

“Best camping trip ever!” said Lark. “Dad brought his guitar along.”

“Of course he did! When did we ever go anywhere and your father
didn't
bring his guitar along?”