Girl vs. Boy Band (5 page)

“Get off me!” Aidan demanded, laughing wildly as handfuls of stems and petals went flying into the air.

Suddenly, the air was pierced by a shrill whistle. All three boys and Lark and Donna whirled to see Mrs. Fitzpatrick, standing on the front steps of the house. She had the thumb and index finger of her right hand poked into her mouth; in her left hand she was holding a gorgeous Fender Stratocaster.

Lark's mouth dropped open, not only because she hadn't known her housekeeper could create a sound like that, but also because she'd never seen such a gorgeous musical instrument in her life.

Ollie looked up from the wrestling match and his face went deathly pale. “W-what are you doing with my guitar?” he croaked.

Mrs. Fitzpatrick turned the guitar so it gleamed under the porch light. “That all depends,” she said, “on whether you young men are going to start acting like civilized human beings or not. If you are, then I will place this guitar carefully back into its case. But if you insist on shouting and wrestling, then I am going to smash this instrument into a million little pieces right here on the driveway.”

“No!” cried Ollie. “Please don't. We were just playing. Blowing off steam after the long flight, you know.” He scrambled out of the flowerbed, holding up his hands in surrender. “We were just messing around. I promise, we'll be more careful from now on.”

“Very well.” Mrs. Fitzpatrick nodded, smoothed down her apron that read, In the Kitchen, I'm the Boss, and went back into the house.

“I guess we'd better stay on her good side,” Aidan observed, quirking his mouth.

“I'm going to go unpack.” Max picked up his suitcase and headed inside. “Before she gets any ideas about my stuff.”

Ollie took off after him. Aidan followed, leaving Lark and her mother alone in the driveway.

Donna was staring at the torn-up flowerbed in dismay. “We're going to have to pay for that,” she muttered. Then she turned to Lark with an expression that didn't quite make it to confident. “It's been a long day. After they've had a good night's sleep, I'm sure they'll be fine.” She gave Lark a forced smile. “It's going to be awfully exciting having them around, isn't it?”

“You can't be serious!” said Lark. “As if living in California weren't bad enough. Now we've got to share our home with
them
.” Fuming, she turned and made her way to the house. When she reached the front steps, she turned back. “And don't ever ask me to sing in public again!” she shouted.

With that, she stomped inside and up the stairs to her room and threw herself onto her bed. She was clearly going to be spending a lot more time in here from now on—it was the only place where she'd be safe from
them
!

CHAPTER

FOUR

Whoever said that teenage males were averse to grooming had obviously never lived with them.

Lark's three new housemates hogged the bathroom all morning, using up every last drop of hot water and leaving a trail of wet towels across the entire floor. By the time Lark finally got into the shower, there wasn't even enough time to wash her hair. Not that she could have done so anyway, as between them they'd finished all the shampoo! Evidently one of the boys had helped himself to Lark's blemish cream, because half of it was squirted all over the vanity.

When Lark arrived in the kitchen, she discovered that the Abbey Road boys had also eaten a whole box of cereal and polished off an entire carton of orange juice. Mrs. Fitzpatrick had fried a dozen eggs, but by the time Lark sat down at the table, they'd gobbled down every last one.

“They're growing boys,” Donna said with a shrug. “But since the whole reason they're bunking here instead of in a hotel is to save some money, I wish I had factored in the expense of teenage boys' appetites.”

“They're growing, all right,” muttered Lark. “Growing more annoying by the minute.”

Right now, the boys were taking selfies in their fancy new home. “Check this out,” called Max, striking a funny pose in front of the huge television.

“Now take one of us,” Aidan said, thrusting his phone into Max's hand. He and Ollie stood with their arms around each other's shoulders and made silly faces.

“Nice one,” said Ollie, chuckling as he looked at the picture. “I'm going to send that one to my brother—he'll be dead jealous when he sees the pool in the background!”

Lark glared at the boys. For the first time since she'd moved to LA, she was actually looking forward to spending the day at school. Only now did it occur to her to wonder how the boys would be handling their education.

“Did you enroll the boys in school?” she asked her mother nervously. Setting these three loose on Beverly Hills High would give a whole meaning to the term “British Invasion.”

“They'll have tutors,” Donna replied. “And since they're going to be homeschooled, I'll need you to clean out the room over the garage when you get home. They can have their lessons in the kitchen for today, but starting tomorrow, that's going to be the school room and rehearsal space.”

Lark felt anger bubble up in her chest. That room was one of the only things she liked about living in a house the size of the
Titanic
. “That's where I like to go to practice guitar and keyboard,” she reminded her mother. “All my instruments are there. Not to mention that room has the best acoustics in the whole house.” It was also far enough away that nobody could hear her sing.

“I know, honey. But we all have to make sacrifices if we want this to work,” her mother said.

Lark bit back a sarcastic comment. It didn't seem like the boys were having to make a whole lot of sacrifices. Right now, the three of them were horsing around on the sofa. Max and Aidan were laughing hysterically as Ollie did an imitation of a teacher at their old school.

Glancing down at the calendar on her phone, Donna called the boys over. “Boys, when your classes are finished for the day, I'm going to have Mrs. Fitzpatrick drive you across town to meet with a stylist. Max, I think you're going to need a haircut. And Aidan, maybe we can introduce at least one additional color into your wardrobe?” She looked up from her phone to appraise Ollie, who grinned at her. “Ollie . . .”

“Yes?”

Donna studied him, then smiled. “Actually, you're perfect just the way you are.”

Ollie's easy smile indicated that this was not news to him.

Lark rolled her eyes. “I'm going to be late,” she huffed. “Has anybody seen my lunch?”

Aidan and Max both turned to Ollie, who held up a flattened brown bag. “Fitzy packed you a tuna mayo sandwich,” he said with a guilty look.

“You ate my tuna sandwich?” Lark wrinkled her nose. “For breakfast?”

“I guess my stomach's still on Greenwich Mean Time,” he said. “In London, it's lunchtime.”

“Wonderful,” said Lark. “So what am I supposed to eat when twelve o'clock noon Pacific Standard Time rolls around?”

Donna reached into her purse and pulled out a few dollar bills. “Buy lunch today, honey,” she said. “I'm sure it will be delicious.”

Lark wasn't sure of that at all. But she took the money her mother offered and headed off to the bus stop.

“Grilled cheese, please,” said Lark, smiling halfheartedly across the chrome counter at the lunch lady. “Extra carrot sticks, no tater tots.”

The lunch lady plopped the items onto a plastic plate, ignoring Lark's request to forgo the pseudo-potato pieces. Then she slid the plate across the countertop. “You get a dessert with that,” the lady informed her. “Chocolate pudding or fruit cup.”

“Neither, thanks,” said Lark.

“Take the pudding,” said Mimi, bounding up beside her. “I'll eat it!”

The lunch lady slapped a cup of slimy-looking pudding onto Lark's tray, then motioned for her to continue down the line to the cashier. Mimi was practically skipping along beside her as Lark paid, then they made her way to their usual table by the windows. They passed several signs for the upcoming International Fair.

“What's that fair thing all about?” Lark asked, sliding her tray across the table and taking a seat.

“It's fun, actually,” Mimi explained. “Kind of a hands-on way of promoting diversity. Parents and grandparents come in and teach us about their different nationalities through cooking demonstrations and other kinds of cultural presentations. Mostly, it's a lot of really yummy food!”

Lark eyed her mushy grilled cheese. “Good to know.”

“So . . . ,” Mimi bubbled, “tell me everything! What are they like? Are they all stuck-up and snobby, or are they, like, normal and down-to-earth? I texted you a zillion times last night, but you never responded!”

“I know,” said Lark, slipping into a chair. “I'm sorry. I was just so tired after the airport and moving the boys into their rooms and all, I went right to bed.”

“‘The boys,'” Mimi repeated, beaming. “You say that like you've known them forever! I still can't believe a real live band is crashing at your house. It's so cool.”

“You know what's not cool?” Lark grumbled. “Fainting at the airport.”

Mimi's eyes widened. “Tell me everything!”

So Lark gave her the CliffsNotes version of the sign, the song, and the swoon, cringing throughout the entire tale.

“Don't sweat it,” Mimi advised. “It was probably low blood sugar. Now, back to the boys. Are they as cute as they looked in their video?”

“Cuter,” Lark admitted, poking at her unwanted tater tots. “Especially Ollie.” She bit into her grilled cheese, which was even soggier than she'd feared. “But they fight constantly. It's exhausting.”

Mimi snatched the pudding cup and dunked a plastic spoon into it. “Yeah, that's how my brothers are. Willie is always trying to clobber Jake, and then Michael jumps in and it's a free-for-all. Nobody ever gets hurt, but it drives my mother crazy!”

“Mama chalked it up to their exhaustion and all,” said Lark. “But I don't know. It felt like maybe there was something else going on. Something deeper.”

“Deeper, huh?” Mimi gulped down the spoonful of pudding and reached for a tater tot. “Well, how were they to
you
? Friendly? Flirty? Or too full of themselves to even acknowledge your existence?”

“Friendly, I guess,” said Lark. “But, Mimi, they're going to take over my music room for their homeschool classes. It's like I don't have any personal space in my own house.” She dropped the disgusting sandwich back onto the plate. “They eat like there's no tomorrow and they hog the bathrooms and use all the hot water. If I don't die of hypothermia from taking freezing cold showers I'll probably starve to death.”

Mimi laughed. “Now you know how I feel!”

“What do you mean?”

“I have three older brothers and one younger sister, remember? You've basically just described every single morning of my whole entire life.”

Lark smiled. “I never thought about that before. Maybe your first film should be about life in a large family.”

“Not a bad idea. Although I'm not sure whether it would fall into the category of screwball comedy or horror movie.”

“C'mon,” said Lark, biting into a carrot stick. “Is it really that bad?”

“Nah. You know I love my sibs. I guess that's the difference in our situations. You have to put up with a bunch of guys you don't actually love.” She raised one eyebrow and grinned. “Or do you?”

“What?”

“Be honest . . . when you met the really gorgeous one . . . Ollie, right? Were there any sparks flying? Any soul-searing romantic moments when your eyes met his?”

“No!” cried Lark, feeling her cheeks flush. “And for the record, our eyes only met twice. First when I was half-unconscious, and then when he confessed to eating my tuna sandwich . . . so if there were any sparks flying, they were sparks of fury, not romance. Besides, they're all older than me.”

“Not by that much.”

“Still, it's hard to feel crushy about a guy who steals your zit cream.”

“Ollie stole your zit cream?”

“Well, one of them did. I'm not sure who.”

“I guess I see your point,” said Mimi with a shrug. “Anyway, what would be the point, right? You've already got your crush.” She smiled in the direction of the super-popular table, where Teddy Reese was offering a tater tot to a giggling Alessandra Drake.

Teddy was in eighth grade, which made him seem miles more sophisticated than Lark could ever hope to be. With his dark hair, blue eyes, and ready smile, he was by far the best-looking boy in school. It didn't hurt that he was also an honor student and the star of the soccer team. Mimi liked to say that Teddy was “the all-American boy, right out of central casting,” whatever
that
meant. All Lark knew was that he was perfect.