Lemonade Mouth Puckers Up (8 page)

Anyway, at the end of the day he was supposed to return the van to my house, clean it and unload any leftovers into a big freezer in our garage. The bummer was that whenever I was around, my dad insisted I had to help him. Which was torture.

“So, I hear Lemonade Mouth is full steam ahead,” he said to me, all fake-casual on our first night cleaning and unloading together. “I guess you guys are big-deal recording stars now.” At the time my head and arm were deep inside one of the refrigerator tubs as I scrubbed it clean. We’d both been working in a chilly silence up until then, and pretty much ignoring each other, which was fine by me. Now I only grunted. Talk about uncomfortable.

I didn’t know where he was going with this, exactly, but I was sure it wasn’t good. Scott’s band, Mudslide Crush, had recently broken up, and I think Lemonade Mouth had something to do with that.

A few minutes later I was clearing out the van’s rear seats (my dad used them for collecting empty boxes and other crap that accumulated during the day) when Scott came up to me carrying a big container of mustard packets. As he passed by, he “accidentally” knocked against me, sending me flying. “Oh, I’m so sorry, man. I tripped.” He looked like he really meant his apology, but I knew better. My dad wasn’t around to see this, of course. Scott had made sure of that.

“Yeah, sure you did,” I said, pulling myself up off the seat.

A few days later I mentioned the situation to Mo and Charlie. “I don’t get it,” I said. “Why did it have to be Scott? Was there nobody else my dad could have hired to drive instead of him?”

It was the morning of the Fourth of July, Stella was away, and the rest of us had separate barbecue and fireworks plans with our families. Since we weren’t going to see each other later on, Mo, Charlie, Olivia and I had decided to celebrate in our own way, by meeting for breakfast at the beach. “Don’t you see enough of those guys already?” my dad had asked only half-joking as I’d left that morning with a package of cream cheese in my hand. “It’s not like it’d kill you to spend one twenty-four-hour period apart from them.” I’d ignored him as I headed out the door.

Olivia was late, as usual.

“Sounds like there isn’t much you can do about it, Wen.” Charlie was talking through a mouthful of “red-white-and-blueberry” bagel. When it came to eating, he wasn’t one to wait until everybody got there. “Scott’s working for your dad and that’s that. Looks like you’re gonna have to find a way to live with it.”

“But why should I have to put up with him at all? Scott’s a complete jerk. You agree with me, Mo. Right?”

Mo was leaning back on her elbows and staring across the sand at the advancing waves. Now she sat up, tossing a broken clamshell into the water. “I don’t know. I’m not really bothered by Scott anymore one way or the other. I wish him well.”

“It’s too bad about Mudslide Crush breaking up,” Charlie said, still snarfing the bagel. “They really were a good band, you know? I hear Ray Beech and Scott aren’t even friends anymore. They had a big fight and now they’re not talking to each other.”

“They’re not?”

He shrugged. “That’s what I heard.”

Mo looked over at me. “It’s not like Scott’s a bad person
or anything. He’s just a kid, like all of us. Maybe you should give him a chance.”

“Give him a chance? How can you be so nonchalant about him, Mo? You, of all people?”

“Time marches on, Wen. There’s no point in holding on to a grudge forever.”

I was speechless. I couldn’t believe she was saying this.

“Look, has he actually said something hostile to you? Anything unfriendly?”

“Well, no. Not exactly. But he hardly says anything to me at all.”

“Isn’t he going out with Lizzie DeLucia now?” Charlie asked. “I saw them hanging out together at the library.”

Mo nodded.

This was news to me—and kind of a surprise. Lizzie DeLucia was a spindly girl with flat brown hair and glasses. She was a founding member of the Quilting for Cancer Club at school—a really nice person, but definitely not Scott’s usual cheerleader type.

“There you go, then,” she said, letting a handful of sand cascade through her fingers. “Don’t get me wrong—I’m not saying I know what’s going on in Scott’s head, but have you considered the possibility that your dad might be right? About people changing, I mean? Maybe Scott’s feeling embarrassed about the past—who knows? Maybe he just wants to make amends now so he can move on. After all, he didn’t have to take the job working with you and your father.”

Again. Speechless.

“You’re nuts,” I said finally.

By then Charlie had cream cheese on his chin and what looked like half his second bagel stuffed in his mouth. When I turned to him he said, “Don’t look at me. I have no idea.”

Mo’s cell pinged with a new text message. “Oh, that’s my dad,” she said, jumping up and brushing the sand from her legs. “Sorry, guys. Rajeev’s finally awake. Gotta go.” Mo had already told us about this. Rajeev was a family guest who’d just arrived from India, and he was still jet-lagged from his long flight. Mo’s folks told her she could only stay here with us until he woke up, and then she had to get back home so they could all get ready to give him a tour of the area. Charlie, Olivia and I had met Rajeev briefly the night before. He seemed like a nice enough guy. Tall. Kind of quiet.

Anyway, as Mo left she gave Charlie’s hand a quick squeeze. She grabbed a bagel to go before sprinting back to her bike. “Tell Olivia I’m sorry I missed her! Happy Fourth!”

I waved as she pedaled away. I was still getting over her reaction about Scott. After the way he’d treated her this past year, if anyone should have hated the guy it was Mo. Not that it mattered if she didn’t. To me Scott was an unforgivable weasel and nobody was going to convince me otherwise. I looked at my watch.

“What’s taking Olivia so long?”

Charlie didn’t answer. When I looked up he was still watching Mo, his eyes intently following her progress as she disappeared down the street. At the time I figured he was still thinking about Scott and Lizzie, same as I was.

Olivia never showed up. She texted to say she wasn’t feeling well, and after a while Wen and I called it a breakfast and
went our separate ways. I didn’t go straight home. I wasn’t sure why, I just didn’t feel like it.

Okay, maybe I did sort of know why.

Ever since this Rajeev kid arrived I’d been getting strange vibes about the whole situation. It wasn’t just because of what Mo had told me—about her parents’ ideas on arranged marriage and Mo’s suspicions about why they were so glad Rajeev was here. Not that that wasn’t enough to freak a guy out. Mo was my girlfriend, after all. But she’d explained it all to me ahead of time and she’d told me she was going to ditch the kid at every opportunity, so I wasn’t all that worried.

At least, not until the kid actually showed up and things started feeling weird.

It had only been two days since Rajeev first set foot in Mo’s house and already the two of them were acting like peanut butter and jelly. I’d hardly even seen her since he had arrived. Like, the night before our breakfast on the beach, Mo and I were supposed to go out to a movie, but she called at the last minute to say she couldn’t because her family was taking Rajeev out to a restaurant.

I tried not to be jealous. Honest, I did.

But then later, when Olivia, Wen and I stopped by their house and I finally got to meet this Rajeev guy, my heart sank. The kid looked like a movie star. He was nice and everything too. He wanted to know all about us, and he kept asking me about our music and my drums—he really seemed interested. And that was the worst part, because I couldn’t bring myself not to like the guy. He also kept laughing at Mo’s jokes, even the ones that weren’t that funny. The whole time we were there she didn’t stop smiling. Not once.

I felt like an extra in a horror flick called
Attack of the Girlfriend Snatcher
.

But I tried to play it cool. What else could I do? I told myself I was being ridiculous and that Mo was just trying to be a good hostess, putting on a show for her mom and dad so they wouldn’t be on her case. What choice did she have, right? Even now, as I pedaled my bike aimlessly on the sidewalks of Opequonsett, I kept telling myself not to worry, that Mo and I were fine. After a while I found myself at the end of Mo’s street and decided since I was so close anyway, why not stop by to wish everyone a happy Fourth?

Anyway, it seemed like a good idea at the time.