Puckers Up

by Mark Peter Hughes

  You asked about our recording sessions—we finished the first three songs and everybody seems excited. On Thursday Mr. Decker brought two executives from Apollo Records to the studio. It was weird having guys in suits watching us record, but I guess that’s how it is when you’re working with a real label. I wish I could send you the draft mixes so you can hear them, but Mr. Decker says it’s not allowed. As soon as I can, I will.

  Well, that’s it for now. I’m heading to the beach to meet Wen, Mo and Charlie for a Fourth of July breakfast. I’m in charge of bringing the juice.

  Your daughter in freshly squeezed readiness,

  Olivia

  P.S.

  It’s an hour later and my hands are shaking.

  I’m too stunned to leave the house.

  I don’t know what to do or who to talk to, but an earthquake just happened in my life and I have to tell somebody about it or I’m going to burst. Maybe setting down my thoughts here will help me clarify my feelings, or at least calm me down a little. Other than Brenda (who isn’t here right now, which is a good thing because I’m going to need some time before I’m ready to talk with her about this), you’re the only other person in the world who can really understand.

  Prepare yourself. This is going to come as much of a shock to you as it did to me.

  So, I was leaving the house with this letter already sealed in an envelope when I noticed that Brenda and I must have forgotten to bring in the mail from yesterday. I grabbed the small stack, carrying it back inside to the kitchen. If I’d just left it on the counter and headed out without looking through it, I’d be on the beach with my friends now, still thinking today would be a normal day. But I didn’t. I looked through the letters. There was an electric bill, a phone bill, a couple of flyers from stores with summer sales, but what caught my eye was a single white envelope with my name neatly written in pink script. Something about the handwriting made me stop and pick it up. I didn’t realize what it was at the time. It seems weird to say it, but the penmanship looked strangely familiar, almost like I’d written it myself.

  I think I already suspected who it was from.

  I opened the letter. After I read the first few words my knees went weak and I had to sit down. I must have reread it a dozen times now, but the numb feeling still hasn’t gone away. The letter isn’t long, so I’m going to write it all out for you, word for word, so you’ll understand:

  Jess Russo, July 1

  Dear Olivia,

  I doubt you remember me, but I sure remember you. It’s been a while, I know. I’m sorry I haven’t been much of a mother for you, but believe me, I had my reasons for leaving. Yesterday somebody showed me an online video of you and your band, and it made me realize how much you’ve grown. Wow, kid. You’re practically an adult already. The last time I saw you, you were almost two, a chubby little potato in green overalls. It’s hard to believe how fast the years have gone by. Watching you, I was amazed at how much you look like my mother. Except for your eyes—those you definitely get from your dad.

  Anyway, I’m writing to tell you that in all these years there has never been a day when I didn’t think about my little girl. I just wanted you to know that.

  Love,

  Mom

  There. Now you know too. There’s no return address, but the postmark is from Pittsfield, Massachusetts.

  So what am I supposed to think? Thirteen years of nothing and suddenly this, out of nowhere. Should I be happy? Should I be mad at her for dropping out of my life and then reappearing after all this time? I don’t know. Right now all I want to do is stuff the letter in the back of my sock drawer. I don’t want to think about it anymore, not until the fog in my head clears.

  Everything in my life seems to be changing and I have no idea how I should feel.

  Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.

  —John Lennon

  MOHINI

  Unfamiliar Territory

  “No need to come to the store today, Monu,” Baba tells me as he leaves the house for the morning.

  “Are you sure? I don’t have anything else planned.”

  He nods. “Mr. Gupta is already there”—Mr. Gupta is my parents’ part-time helper—“and the holiday week is usually slow anyway. I’d rather you stay in case your mother needs you. She isn’t feeling well.”

  It’s Monday and the change in plans has thrown me off balance. Plus, it turns out that Maa isn’t all that sick. She just has a cold, and she spends the first part of the morning puttering around the kitchen, telling me not to fuss over her. So I’m not sure what to do. Lemonade Mouth won’t be recording again until Wednesday because another band has the studio booked. I’m not even on the volunteer list at the clinic until the weekend.

  Which leaves me in unfamiliar territory: a whole day on my hands and nothing on my schedule.

  So I call Charlie, thinking that maybe Rajeev and I can swing by and hang out at his house for a while. Charlie doesn’t answer, so I leave a message. Then I try Naomi, but she’s not around; neither is Olivia, and Wen’s busy helping his dad. So now I’m wondering what the heck I’m supposed to do with Rajeev all day. The poor kid comes all the way from India just to end up with nothing to do except hang out in boring old Opequonsett.

  But that’s when I realize the house has become quiet. Where is Rajeev, anyway? Madhu and I ate breakfast with him, but he’s not in the dining room or the kitchen now. I take a moment to check the other rooms. Nothing.

  So where has he gone?

  From somewhere outside I hear a peal of laughter—my little sister’s—and then Rajeev calling out something. He’s laughing too. I find them in the backyard. Rajeev is pitching tennis balls to Madhu, who’s grinning like a fiend as she holds a baseball bat like a golf club. Behind her are three vertical sticks shoved into the dirt with smaller sticks balanced on top.

  “Monu!” Madhu shouts when she sees me. “Rajeev’s teaching me how to play cricket! I’m beating him!”

  “Beginner’s luck,” he says with a smile. “Want to join us?”

  Rajeev explains the rules. It’s a little like baseball except there are only two bases, and the pitcher tries to hit the sticks (called wickets) while the batter tries to protect them. Within a few minutes I get the hang of it, and before long I’m into the game and having a great time. When Maa calls out that it’s lunchtime I’m surprised. We’ve been playing all morning. Madhu can’t stop teasing Rajeev because she and I ended up crushing him four games out of five. Rajeev acts all bitter about it, but I can tell he doesn’t mean it. He’s just having fun with her, and she eats it up.

  I check my messages. No response from Charlie, which is strange. Since yesterday morning I’ve tried to reach him at least four times. I wonder what’s up with him. I wonder if he’s still irked at me because I canceled our movie plans. I feel bad about that, I really do. I wish he’d hurry up and call me back so we can talk about it and then I can tell him about cricket and listen to his goofy jokes.

  It’s stupid, I know, but after only one day I already miss him.

  After lunch the three of us head into town, and as we walk Rajeev and I talk about junk food. Turns out he’s a big Twinkies fan, like me. He asks about Lemonade Mouth, so I tell him about the studio and how there’s a lot of pressure on us to finish quickly. Then we run into Wen and end up having a blast on the street corner with him. Madhu asks if she can try on the hot dog suit and Wen says yes. After that we each take turns in the costume, holding up the WIENERS ON WHEELS sign and waving to traffic. We jump around and dance as people honk and wave back. The suit is too small for Rajeev and his shins stick out at the bottom. Out of all of us he looks the most ridiculous. He doesn’t care, though. He has a great time waving at the cars and jumping around. He’s hilarious. Wen laughs so hard he can barely breathe.

  Again I’m thinking about Charlie. I wish he were here. I’m sure he would love to be on the sidewalk with us, taking his turn in the suit. It’s just the kind of s
tupid thing that makes us both crack up. But when I check my messages once again and see there’s still no response from him, I can’t help feeling just a little annoyed. All right, so I backed out on him the other night, but it’s not like it was my fault. I don’t control my family. How about a little flexibility?

  I take out my phone and I’m just about to hit his speed dial when I stop myself. Four messages? That’s enough. It’s up to him now. I put the phone back in my pocket.

  If anybody’s going to make the next move it sure as heck isn’t going to be me.

  CHARLIE

  A Mighty Explosion of Fire and Destiny

  It was the worst Fourth of July ever.

  My parents and I always go to this big barbecue at my uncle Kyle’s place in Wickford, and usually I love it, but not this time. I spent the afternoon with my stomach in knots. I was surrounded by relatives and other smiling people who kept asking about Lemonade Mouth and telling me how proud of me they were. I know they meant well and that the problem was me, not them. Everybody was just excited about all the stuff going on, and that was great, of course. But I just didn’t feel like talking or celebrating. Ever have to pretend to be in a good mood when all you really want to do is crawl off somewhere and hide? That was me.

  I wanted to press my face into a pillow.

  I wanted to scream.

  I’ll admit it—there were even moments when I was close to crying.

  But I couldn’t. And since I couldn’t bring myself to talk about the Mo stuff with anybody, I had to walk around with a fake smile as if everything was great. As if the whole world hadn’t just fallen to pieces in one giant mambo explosion named Rajeev.

  The next day wasn’t much better. I stayed home and watched TV. Mo called a couple of times, but I didn’t pick up. What would be the point? I saw what I saw, so what more was there to say?

  By Tuesday, though, after a James Bond marathon, I started to cool down. Something about the nonstop action and over-the-top crazy bad guys calmed my nerves. The world wasn’t really like that, and I guess a part of me wanted to believe I was overreacting about Mo, as if some green-skinned Jealousy Monster that fed on my insecurities had been whispering in my ear and making me nuts. Maybe I’d misinterpreted what I’d seen. Maybe if Mo and I talked this over she could clear everything up and we’d laugh about my stupid mistake. Falling for Rajeev? she’d ask. Me? Ha-ha! Is that what you thought? Of course not, Charlie! That’s ridiculous!

  I didn’t know what the explanation might be, but there had to be one, right? Her parents had told her she needed to be nice to him, so maybe she had to pretend to have a great time dancing with him. Her arms around him. His around her.

  Yeah, that was probably it.

  Okay, so it was a long shot, but it was all I had.

  Anyway, it was time to bite the bullet and pay her a visit. My first step was to phone Stella, who was finally back from Philadelphia, and ask if she wanted to swing by Mo’s family’s store to say hi with me. I didn’t mention the dancing stuff or anything, I just figured that if Stella came too then it would make everything seem more casual.

  Fortunately, convincing Stella wasn’t hard.

  “Oh man, yes!” she said. “You have no idea what it was like road-tripping with my two little monkey stepbrothers—five hours each way, trapped in a car with Thing One and Thing Two. I gotta get away or I’ll explode. See you in ten minutes.”

  As Stella and I walked to the Banerjees’ store together, I secretly kept coaching myself on how I should act when I saw Mo. I told myself I wouldn’t get emotional. I was going to stay calm and we were going to talk, that was all. It was going to be okay.

  Problem was, it never occurred to me that Rajeev would be there with her.

  First thing I saw when we stepped into the store was the two of them sitting cross-legged on the floor together, all chummy and comfortable as they unpacked two big boxes of white rice onto the shelves. They looked like best buddies, like they belonged together. Right away my stomach turned to jelly. There weren’t any other customers at the time, and at the sound of the bell jingling Mo and Rajeev both looked up. They seemed surprised to see us, and for the briefest moment I felt weird vibes again, as if we’d caught them in the middle of something. I figured maybe they’d been having some hushed conversation, maybe sharing their deepest secrets with each other. I didn’t know.

  All I knew was that even after all the coaching I’d given myself, the Jealousy Monster was back. Only now instead of whispering it was screaming at the top of its lungs.

  “Oh, what a nice surprise!” Mo said, standing up. “How was your Fourth, Stella?” Stella and Rajeev hadn’t met yet so she introduced them, and then Mo said, all casual, “So, what’s going on, Charlie? I called you a bunch of times and you never called back. What have you been up to?”

  “I could ask you the same thing,” I said, still gripping my half-empty lemonade.

  There was another weird pause. I caught Rajeev and Mo giving each other a strange look, and all of a sudden I wanted to shrink into the floor. Something was definitely going on here. My neck was warm and my head felt like it was spinning.

  “Charlie, is everything okay?”

  “No. As matter of fact it isn’t. Can we talk? Alone?”

  Her eyebrows pulled together, but she nodded. She led me back to the storage room where her parents keep their office. For some reason neither of them was around just then—they must have stepped out. And for a while I just stood there trying to get my emotions under control. It was the weirdest feeling. Mo was my best friend in the world, my first-ever girlfriend, and I was nuts about her—and up until only a couple days earlier I’d honestly thought she felt the same way about me. And yet here we were about to break up. I was feeling so hurt and confused that I wasn’t even thinking straight.

  INTERIOR. STORAGE ROOM—MIDDAY

  Charlie and Mo stand facing each other near the door of a small storage space cluttered with boxes and shelves.

  MO

  (whispering, barely hiding her frustration)

  Okay, so what’s going on? If this is about the movie the other night, I’m sorry about canceling on you at the last minute, but what was I supposed to—

  CHARLIE

  The movie? Oh, no, it’s not about the movie. It’s about … you know, about Rajeev.

  MO

  Rajeev? Okay … What about him?

  She folds her arms across her chest and waits. It takes a few uncomfortable seconds, but finally Charlie takes a deep breath and begins.…

  CHARLIE

  I, uh, I just want you to know that I get what’s happening, and it’s okay. If you want to be with him instead of me, I’m good with it. I understand.

  MO

  You understand? What the heck is that supposed to mean?

  CHARLIE

  (shrugs)

  All I’m saying is that Rajeev obviously likes you, and hey, he’s a good guy and everything. What can I say? I can totally see why you like him.

  MO

  (a wide-eyed pause)

  Are you … are you breaking up with me?

  CHARLIE

  Uh … no. I just … What?

  MO

  Come on, Charlie. I don’t hear from you in two whole days, I leave you a ton of messages that you never return, and now suddenly you’re here telling me you’re okay if I’m with somebody else. What am I supposed to think?

  CHARLIE

  No, that’s not it at all. I just … Hey, I saw you and him together. I wasn’t trying to spy or anything, but I could see you through your front window. You guys were dancing and I thought … well …

  MO

  (one eyebrow raised)

  You saw us dancing and … what? You figured it meant Rajeev and I are now an item? That we’re about to start sending out wedding invitations? Is that it?

  She glares at him. He blinks back, his face reddening.

  CHARLIE (V.O.)

  Funny thing was, hearing her say it out l
oud like that, it really did sound kind of ridiculous. But I realized that was more or less exactly what I’d been thinking.

  MO

  Holy crap. That is it, isn’t it? You’re jealous. Charlie Hirsh, I don’t know whether to feel bad or to be furious with you! You can be so oblivious sometimes! Don’t you get it? It’s you I like, not Rajeev. He’s just a friend! And I’m pretty sure he feels the same way about me!

  CHARLIE

  (mortified, trying to recover)

  Yeah, well, I’m not so sure. Face it, Mo, I’m a guy, and I can tell when another guy likes somebody. And that guy out there, he likes you!

  MO

  (nose to nose with him now)

  Oh yeah? Well, all right, then, maybe he does like me. What do I know? But even if it’s true, it isn’t my fault, is it? How am I supposed to help how he feels?

  CHARLIE (V.O.)

  But as it turned out, we were both wrong. Even as Mo and I argued in the storage room, at the other end of the store destiny was playing out in a way neither of us had seen coming. It just took until that moment for one of us to look up and notice.

  Over Mo’s shoulder we see what has been visible in the background and what Charlie now sees: The storage room door is ajar, revealing a long grocery aisle that goes all the way to the front of the store. There, near the big glass window, are Rajeev and Stella. They met only a few minutes ago, but already they’re standing close to each other, laughing and talking like fast friends. There are obvious sparks between them. Mo says something but Charlie doesn’t hear.

  MO

  Charlie? Charlie, are you listening to me?

  REVERSE ON: Charlie staring. Mo has her back to the camera. A moment passes, and Charlie nods toward the door. Following his gaze, Mo turns to see what Charlie is looking at. Now they both stare, their stupid little argument quickly forgotten.