“Bloody hell,” he grumbled. “And I just got this for Christmas.”
“Hand it over,” said Fitzy, pointing to the shirt. “If I don’t pretreat it right away, it’ll never come out in the wash.”
Obediently, Ollie stripped down to his undershirt … revealing a dramatic tattoo! Black, green, and blue ink stretched from his wrist to his shoulder in the shape of a terrifying, red-eyed dragon.
Lark gasped. Teddy stared.
And Donna went pale. “What in the world …?”
“Did you join a biker gang over Christmas?” Fitzy asked, appalled.
“Tattoos are an art form,” said Ollie calmly.
“Not in this house they aren’t!” cried Donna. “I thought I was clear about Abbey Road being a clean-cut, wholesome group!”
“You mean you don’t like it?” asked Ollie with an expression of wide-eyed innocence.
“Of course she doesn’t like it!” said Lark. “Even Aidan dressed head to toe in black leather looked like a choir boy compared to you. Are you crazy?”
“We aren’t,” said Max, biting back a smile. “But you must be if you think a bloke as vain as Ollie would ever do anything to mess with his perfect appearance.”
No longer able to keep a straight face, Ollie cracked up. “Nothing to panic about,” he said. “It’s just one of those temporary deals.”
Teddy leaned toward Lark and smiled. “So I guess I shouldn’t tell your mom about my upcoming nose-piercing appointment?” he whispered.
Lark giggled. “Not if you value your life,” she replied.
“Don’t be angry,” said Max, his eyes twinkling. “We were just having a laugh, all in good fun.”
By now, the color had returned to Donna’s face. “So you think giving your manager a heart attack is fun?”
“Just for that,” said Fitzy, tucking Ollie’s shirt under her arm and heading for the laundry room, “no dessert for either of you! And I even made something special—the perfect British dessert to go with the roast, just in case you were feeling homesick.”
“What’s that?” asked Max eagerly. “Treacle tart? Banoffee pie?”
“Yorkshire pudding!” she called over her shoulder.
At this, Max and Ollie burst out laughing all over again.
“What now?” asked Lark.
“Oh, nothing,” said Max, cracking up. “It’s just that Yorkshire pudding isn’t usually a dessert at all, it’s—”
A scowl from Donna cut him off.
Max finished in a mumble, “Uh, it’s delicious, that’s what.”
“I’ll shower right after dinner and get rid of this,” Ollie assured Donna. “Sorry to have given you a fright.” With an apologetic smile, he handed her the bowl of buttery mashed potatoes.
But Donna waved off his peace offering with a horrified look. “You should know, Oliver, there’s only one thing I hate more than tattoos.”
“What’s that?” asked Ollie.
“Carbohydrates,” Donna answered.
After dinner, Donna ordered Ollie to make good on his promise to wash off his tattoo, and then go straight to bed; she advised Max to call it a night as well.
“Big day tomorrow,” she told them. “The countdown to the release of your first album begins and that means we’ve got lots of work to do. Starting with a photo shoot.”
Neither boy argued; they were clearly exhausted from their long flight.
“Bet you’re glad to have them back,” Teddy whispered to Lark.
“Well, they do liven up the place,” Lark agreed with a grin. The truth was, it had been much too quiet in the house without them and although she knew she was in for a world of teasing, she couldn’t have been happier about their return.
“You should turn in early too, Teddy,” said Donna. “I’m sending a car to pick you up at school right after third period. Your parents have cleared it with the principal. I’ll have your wardrobe waiting at the photo studio when you arrive.”
Teddy looked panicked.
“Mom,” said Lark, “I think Teddy has a science test tomorrow.”
“Fourth period,” Teddy clarified.
Donna gave him a breezy smile. “Well, you’ll just have to take a makeup test, won’t you?”
With that, she strode out of the foyer toward her office.
Before Lark could say anything else about the science exam, Teddy’s father pulled into the drive and honked the car horn.
“Thanks for dinner,” Teddy said glumly, and disappeared out the door.
“What, no kiss good night?” teased Ollie after he’d gone.
Lark narrowed her eyes at him. “No, of course not. We’re just friends, and besides—” The idea of kissing Teddy sent a tingle up her spine.
“Besides, you wouldn’t want me and Maxie witnessing your first snog, right?” Ollie chuckled.
Lark’s cheeks turned pink.
“Ah, don’t blush,” said Max, following a yawning Ollie up the stairs. “We know you’re mad for that boy.” When he reached the top step, he turned to give Lark a sleepy grin. “The good news is, it’s definitely mutual.”
Cheeks flaming, Lark spun on her heel and bolted for the kitchen, wondering if maybe “much too quiet” hadn’t been such a bad thing after all!
CHAPTER 3
“Eighty thousand thirteen,” Mimi proclaimed.
“Eighty thousand thirteen?” Lark repeated, flipping the pages of her math book. “Is that the answer to the division problem, or the word problem?”
Mimi giggled. “Neither. It’s the answer to: How many likes has ‘Homesick’ gotten since I posted it on YouTube?” She turned her laptop screen so Lark could see it. Sure enough, there was the enigmatic, mysterious Songbird, floating on a raft in the Campbells’ swimming pool, singing happily in the sunshine. “Look at all the comments!” Mimi gushed. “Eight hundred and twelve!”
The number was fairly staggering, Lark had to admit. And a bit nauseating, too. Lark’s natural shyness made her want to avoid fame at all costs.
“We’re supposed to be studying for our math test,” she said, hoping to shift Mimi’s focus. “I know we’ve been on break for two weeks, but you do remember what studying is, don’t you?”
“This is studying,” Mimi countered. “I’m studying to be a world-renowned filmmaker.”
“And what about the ten zillion questions you asked me about Ollie and the band before we started?” Lark teased. “Was that you being a filmmaker, too?”
“No, that was me being a girl with a crush.” Mimi grinned, owning it. “And since you’ve brought him up again … I can’t believe Ollie got back yesterday and I still haven’t laid eyes on that beautiful boy. Hey, do you think he’d let me make a documentary about him?” She furrowed her brow in thought. “I can call it A Day in the Life of Britain’s Most Gorgeous Pop Star.”
Lark laughed, because she knew this documentary, if it ever happened, would just be an excuse for Mimi to follow Ollie around for twenty-four hours straight, her camera ready to capture his every action—from rehearsing his dance steps to trimming his fingernails.
“Even if Ollie would let you, you know you’d have to get permission from a higher authority.”
“Right. Your mom.”
“It’s not that it isn’t a great idea,” Lark added quickly. “But the boys are majorly booked up right now. Poor Teddy. He can’t even find time to study.”
Mimi let out a long sigh. “Is he dating anyone?”
Lark’s heart sank. “Teddy? Dating? Who would he be dating?”
“Not Teddy … Oliver,” Mimi clarified. “Did he mention going on any dates while he was back in London? Maybe he went out with that nasty Jade girl who came between him and Aidan?”
“No, he didn’t mention dating Jade or anyone else,” Lark assured her gently. She knew that Mimi believed she was in love with Ollie. But she also knew that while Ollie was fond of Mimi, at nearly sixteen he was much too old for her.
Satisfied that Ollie’s heart
had not been stolen over Christmas, Mimi smiled. “Good. So we can get back to the topic at hand.”
“Math?”
“Movies! I’ve been comparing our work to that of all the other seventh-grade-director-slash-songwriter partnerships out there, and guess what. There aren’t any! Which means we’re completely original!”
“Or completely crazy,” Lark muttered. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe the reason there aren’t any other seventh graders making music videos is because they’re all too busy doing their homework?”
“Nope. Never occurred to me at all. What did occur to me is that we should make another one!”
Lark nearly dropped her textbook. “What?!”
“You’re a sensation,” Mimi reasoned, undaunted. “The fans want more. And you have a new song, so what are we waiting for?”
“We’re waiting for me to decide if I want to be a performer, that’s what,” Lark reminded her. “And for the record, I don’t see that happening anytime soon.”
“But you won’t be on a stage,” Mimi pointed out, sliding the laptop closer to Lark. “You’ll be on the Internet. There’s a huge difference.”
“Not to me there isn’t. Now, can we please get back to our math?”
“Not until you check out the amazing stuff people have been writing about you.”
Reluctantly, Lark squinted at the computer screen and began to read the comments:
I LOVE LOVE LOVE this song! Homesick is totes awesome.
SO YOUNG, SO TALENTED, SO COOL! Go Songbird!!!!!!
WHO IS SHE? WHEN IS SHE TOURING?
Some of the comments were just long lists of emoji—clapping hands, hearts, smiley faces, and guitars. One fan even invited Songbird to play at her sweet sixteen birthday party.
“Don’t tell me this doesn’t make you proud,” said Mimi with a grin. “I’d kill for a single comment complimenting the creative camera angles.”
“Of course I’m flattered that people like it,” Lark conceded, scrolling down through the comments. “But what about the people who don’t? Look … someone typed in, like, fifteen thumbs-down emoji. And this person calls me ‘A NOBUDDY in uglee boots’? And what about this person, GlitzyGirlFluffyFace? She says, ‘Put Songbird back in her cage and lock the door, ASAP!’ ”
Mimi rolled her eyes. “Do you really care what someone who calls herself GlitzyGirlFluffyFace thinks? Please!”
“It’s mean.”
“Yes, it is,” Mimi agreed. “But think about it: of all those eight hundred and twelve comments, you’ve only found three nasty ones. So that’s only …” She picked up her smartphone, called up the calculator, and tapped in the numbers. “Point zero zero three six nine percent negative.” She quirked an eyebrow at Lark. “You have a less than one percentage of haters. How’s that for math?”
Lark had to laugh. Mimi was right—GlitzyFluffy-What’s-Her-Face was just a mean-spirited stranger and there was no reason to care what she thought, especially since the overwhelming majority of viewers had enjoyed what Lark and Mimi had created.
“But what if it’s a fluke?” asked Lark, not realizing how much she hoped it wasn’t until she’d actually spoken the words out loud.
“If it is, there’s only one way to find out.” Mimi shrugged. “If we post a second video and it does as well as or better than ‘Homesick,’ then it’s not a fluke.”
“Then what?” Lark asked warily.
“Then you have to tell your mother. About both of them.”
Lark frowned. “You drive a hard bargain, Mimi Solis.”
“What can I say?” Mimi tossed her hair in an exaggerated gesture of faux arrogance. “I’m a creative genius and a shrewd businesswoman!”
Lark hadn’t brought her guitar along to do her math homework, but Mimi said it wasn’t a problem; they could dub in the music later on. For now, Lark would just sing “Everything’s Working Out” a cappella.
“Okay, so I’m thinking that we should just have fun with it,” Mimi said, in director mode. “The song’s about being carefree—so let’s try to capture that in your actions, too.”
First Lark skateboarded around Mimi’s driveway, wobbling and tottering and laughing as she sang the lyrics, “Life’s a crazy ride, but time is on my side … I know I’ll reach my goal, ’cause that’s just how I roll.”
Next, they went to the backyard and Mimi had Lark jump on the trampoline, shooting her from below to give the illusion that Lark was flying—the perfect image for the upbeat mood of the song.
There was a bit of a glitch when Mimi’s little sister, Lola, arrived home from school with her two best friends from third grade, Casey and Jane. Lola demanded that Mimi and Lark vacate the backyard immediately so she and her friends could practice cartwheels and handstands.
“We were here first,” said Mimi.
“Well, we were here second.”
“I’m older.”
“I’m younger!”
Lark knew this would get them nowhere, but she’d spent enough time at Mimi’s house to understand that this was the kind of ridiculous argument that could only happen between siblings. Mrs. Solis came outside and refereed the shouting match. It was so long and so loud that Mr. Solis, who was working in his home office, threw open the window and provided backup for his wife from the second floor.
Ultimately, the decision went in Mimi’s favor, and Lola and her friends were sent next door to practice their cartwheels in Casey’s yard, which, as Lola observed snippily, was “way flatter and shadier” than the Solises’, making it far better for gymnastics anyway.
Lark witnessed the entire hullabaloo in wonder, and with a twinge of jealousy. Watching Mr. and Mrs. Solis work as a team to keep their daughters from tearing each other’s hair out had made her miss the days when her own mother and father had enjoyed a similar kind of partnership.
“I’ll make it up to her by filming one of her gymnastics competitions,” Mimi told Lark.
Lark smiled. “You’re a good big sister.”
“But I’m an even better filmmaker! So let’s get back to work!”
Under Mimi’s direction, Lark hula-hooped, cartwheeled, and climbed a tree, all while singing her new song.
When they were finished, Mimi was thrilled with the footage. “My new software will make it really easy to add the music,” she explained. “We’ll have to schedule a recording session soon. Check your calendar, and we’ll set something up.”
Lark smiled. “You sound like a real-life music mogul,” she teased, just as her phone sounded in her pocket. The ring tone was the one she’d assigned to incoming calls from her mother: the Garth Brooks hit “Mom.”
“Speaking of real-life music moguls …,” she said, laughing as she slid her finger over the answer bar and brought the phone to her ear. “Hey, Mom. What’s up?”
Lark listened for less than a second, then let out a shriek of joy. Mimi, who was viewing the video again, nearly jumped out of her skin.
“What was that about?” she asked, when Lark finally ended the call.
“My mom just told me my dad’s coming to LA,” Lark reported excitedly, “to play backup guitar for the Hatfields this Saturday night. He got us two tickets.”
“That’s awesome,” said Mimi. “Especially since you didn’t get to see him for Christmas.”
Lark sighed. “It is, except in true Donna Campbell form, my mom’s already arranged a business dinner for that night, which she absolutely can’t cancel.”
“That’s too bad,” said Mimi.
Lark’s eyes sparkled. “Not really. You can come in her place. It’ll be our first concert!”
Mimi opened her mouth to respond, but Lark held up her hands. “I know what you’re going to say: you have no idea who the Hatfields are, but I promise you’ll love them. They’re a huge country band. We’ll have so much fun! We can even go backstage after the show.”
“I’d love that,” said Mimi. “But it’s my cousin Gabriella’s quinceañera that night. I’ve promised
to film the whole event, as my birthday gift to her.”
“Oh,” said Lark. “Well, that sounds awesome, too. Wish Gabriella happy birthday for me.”
“I have an idea who you can ask instead,” said Mimi, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.
“Forget it,” said Lark. “It would be too weird!”
Mimi laughed. “You say weird, I say romantic.”
CHAPTER 4
On Friday afternoon, Lark stepped off the school bus and groaned. One glance at the line of cars parked in her driveway told her exactly what she was in for. All those Porsches, Escalades, and other luxury vehicles she didn’t know the names of could only add up to one thing: Abbey Road’s ever-growing team of music-industry professionals had descended upon the Campbells’ house.
“Great,” she muttered, hoisting her backpack onto her shoulder and making her way up the drive. She really wasn’t in the mood to deal with a house full of strangers today—she had an English paper to write and two history chapters to outline. On top of that, she was totally on edge because today was the day Mimi had promised to finish editing the “Everything’s Working Out” video and post it.
Lark couldn’t decide whether she was hoping for a good response or a bad one. If the video received less than one hundred thousand likes, Mimi had promised to keep the secret of Songbird’s identity from Lark’s mother. But if it did as well as Mimi was predicting it would, Lark had promised to tell Donna, and risk being pressured to take her talent public.
But most irritating of all was the fact that Lark still hadn’t found anyone to join her at the Hatfields concert. She’d mustered up the nerve to invite her lab partner, Emma DiGiorgio. Emma had been thrilled, and the girls were halfway through planning their postconcert sleepover when Emma suddenly remembered that Saturday was her parents’ wedding anniversary and the whole family was going out for a big, fancy dinner.
This stung for two reasons: one, Lark still didn’t have someone to go to the concert with, and two, it made her realize that she’d never get to celebrate her parents’ wedding anniversary again, since technically they no longer had one.
The High Note Page 3
