Girl vs. Boy Band (18 page)

“That's what safety helmets are all about,” murmured Ollie. “But hey, I say sign him up. He actually makes
my
dancing look
good
.”

Donna let out a heavy sigh. “Next!” she called.

The second boy introduced himself as Nick Campanelli. Nick was a dark-haired, god-like young man, with rippling muscles and chiseled features. His personality was a flirtatious mix of shyness and charm.

And his voice . . . his voice . . .

“Is he singing?” Max whispered. “Or has his appendix just burst?”

“Next!”

After Nick came Miles; after Miles came Caleb; after Caleb came Ethan; and after every single one of them came Donna's voice shouting out, “
Next!
”

And with every shout, the hopes of the judging panel dropped a little bit more.

By the time they got to Jared Bleeth, Donna had begun to sound panicked.

Jared Bleeth was an athletic fifteen-year-old whose voice was nothing short of a miracle. He could shift from rock to opera without missing a beat. He was a keyboard prodigy, and he'd studied every form of dance from ballet to hip-hop since he was old enough to walk. On top of that, with his twinkling blue eyes and light-brown curls, Jared Bleeth was almost too handsome to look at.

“That smile,” breathed Mimi. “It's dazzling.”

“It's like looking directly into the sun,” Lark agreed.

When Jared finished his song, Donna quickly consulted with the others, then leaped to her feet. “Bravo!” she exclaimed, clapping. “Jared, welcome to Abbey Road.”

“Really?” Jared knocked them out with his stunning smile. “That's awesome. I just have one concern.”

“What's that, mate?” asked Ollie.

“Well, I won't be able to record during the last few weeks of January.”

“Oh, we can work around your schedule,” Donna assured him. “I assume you've got school commitments?”

“Not exactly,” said Jared. “I just need to be at home to, you know, prepare.”

“Prepare for what?” asked Max.

“Dude, haven't you heard? They've deciphered a prehistoric calendar, which predicts a ninety-eight-point-five percent probability that aliens from an as-yet undiscovered planet will attack the earth in the middle of February. I'll need at least a few weeks to get ready for battle. I'm gonna kick some interplanetary butt!”

Mimi's mouth dropped open. Ollie shook his head and Max groaned and covered his face with his hands. Donna and Jas exchanged looks of disbelief, while Lark held her breath, waiting for the punch line.

But there wasn't one. Jared clearly believed every word he'd said, which meant that despite his sizzling good looks and heart-melting singing voice, Jared Bleeth was also a total nut job!

Lark let out her breath in a heavy sigh of disappointment. And six desperate and exhausted voices called out in unison:

“
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.