Yay my first ever Lemonade Mouth fic! I'm really happy that I finally got around to writing one of these, but sad because of what it's about. You see the day that I wrote this I was having a really bad day. That day I learned of two 14 year old boys that passed away-in two different states and I was just feeling really sad about this becasue one of them went to my old high school. In a conversation on a forum with Whispering Memories, I said that I wanted to write a Lemonade Mouth fic that was kinda sad so that I could write about my feelings. She gave me this idea. Plus, she was my beta so basically this story is dedicated to you Icy. You rock and your suggestions/editing really helped me out.

Now, I promised my forum friend CuriousPanther.87 (aka Bubbles) that I would bring this up in my next upate so I'm going to post what she did on one of her stories.

**SUPER IMPORTANT MESSAGE** Please listen, this is a really serious issue. In Syria right now, there is a really big problem. Right now, at least 600 Syrians are dead, and thousands are injured. I just really want to raise awareness about it, especially because there are people from many different countries reading this... Please just look it up on google. I want this message to be on the news. We really need to help these innocent people... Thank you =)

So I recommend you spread the word about this. I think that's all I have to say other than please review. :)

Peace Out

~Wolfie

It had been a hot summer afternoon when it happened.

When I say hot, I mean like well over ninety degrees with the sun beating down on my neck making me sweat under my red and white Stanford Cardinals jersey. My parents had gotten me up at the crack of dawn so that we could get to the college in time for Tommy's big soccer game. Over the past fourteen years I've been to more soccer games than I want to think about. The same thing would happen every game; the players would chase the ball up and down the field for hours and then at the last minute my all star brother would make the winning shot.

Don't get me wrong, my brother is freaking awesome at soccer but after so many years of watching practically identical games you get tired of it.

Stella, of course, was peeved when I told her I wasn't going to make it to practice. "Charlie, we have a competition coming up in two weeks! We need all the practice time we can get!" she yelled at me when I told her I had to go to the game. I really hoped that she wasn't taking her frustration out on the others.

To keep myself busy I tapped on the seat of the metal bleachers, working on new riffs for the next time Lemonade Mouth performed. My eyes drifted over to the scoreboard. The teams were tied 2-2 with only three minutes left on the clock. Any minute now, Tommy would go be Mr. Soccer Hero and win the game. Yet again. "Isn't this exciting Charles?" my mom asked me. I turned to face her and put on a wide grin.

"Really exciting Mom." Satisfied she turned her attention back to the game. My mother was never one to really notice when someone was lying to her face. All she ever really cared about was how well Tommy did in sports or school or whatever. Everything else was the backseat to her. It wasn't always bad though. It meant that she never really bothered me when I was doing my own thing. She never interrupted me when I was drumming, so that had to count for something? Right?

I scanned the field for Tommy. Once he started tearing across the field, I knew that the game would be almost over. I soon spotted him near the visitor's goal box. One of his teammates kicked the ball to him and I knew that the game was over. Tommy sprinted across the field, dribbling the ball so quickly that none of the other players had a chance of stealing it from him. One of the defense players for the other team stepped in front of him so he would have to change course but that didn't stop Tommy. When he was about fifteen feet from the goal box; he kicked the ball with such force that he fell onto his back.

The ball sailed right between the goalie's outstretched arms and came to a stop in the grass. The stadium went wild with cheers and applause and screams of joy. All around me people were jumping up and down, waving their Stanford flags high in the air. My own parents were shrieking right along with the drunken college crowd. None of the commotion fazed me though. My eyes were fixed on one spot. Tommy hadn't gotten up.

Time stopped around me as I stared at my brother's motionless body on the grass. The whoops and hollers from everyone around me boomed in my ears like the sound of very distant thunder. Slowly, I stood up, hoping to get a better view of Tommy. What was wrong with him? Why hadn't he gotten up?

"Charles? Charles, what's wrong?" my dad yelled over the cheering. His voice had barely reached me. With a very shaky hand, I pointed down to the field. I tore my eyes away to look up at my dad. His eyes had tripled in size and his mouth was hanging open. After what felt like an eternity, other people began to notice something was wrong as well. The crowd hushed as a medical team ran out onto the field. Suddenly, as if realizing what was happening, my mom screamed.

She climbed over a row of people, reached the aisle, and ran down the steep metal staircase to the field. My dad and I followed close behind her. When we reached the bottom we were stopped by a man that I recognized as the head coach. He was a tall, muscular man with salt and pepper hair that seemed to be missing from the top of his head. He held up his hands to try and stop up, but when my mother is determined, she's like a steam engine. Without so much as batting an eye, she shoved past him and ran out onto the field.

By the time we got there, the EMT's were loading Tommy onto a stretcher to carry him off the field. As I came towards him, every part of my body, mind and soul was praying that he wasn't hurt too badly. Then I actually got a chance to look at him. I felt my heart sink deep down into the pit of my stomach. My entire body froze and I just stood there in complete shock. I watched as my parents followed the EMTs off of the field and out of the stadium. Only one thought ran through my mind. No human's neck should be bent that way.

Seconds turned into minutes.

Minutes turned into hours.

Hours turned into days.

After all that time, I still refused to believe that he was gone. I had blocked out every possibility that he was gone from my life. I walked past the flowers, balloons, and cards all saying 'Thinking of you' or 'We are sorry for your loss'. I didn't eat the food that relatives and neighbors brought over to our house. I ignored my mom's constant sobbing. I didn't hear the questions other students at school asked about the accident. Well, they only asked for about half a day because my friends made it very clear not to bother me about it.

"Hi Charlie," Mo said softly to me. She sat down at the lunch table and gave me a small smile. I nodded, indicating that I wasn't ignoring her. With my plastics spork I poked at the food that was on my lunch tray. I wasn't sure what kind of food it was or if it even was food, so it made me less hungry than I already was.

Olivia then came up beside me and sat down. Wen sat on her other side and Stella sat next to Mo. None of them said anything. After another few minutes of poking at my food I decided that it wasn't worth sitting there. "I'll see you guys at practice," I said flatly.

I threw my untouched food in the trash can and began to walk out of the cafeteria. As I passed the Turbo Blast machines, I felt someone smack into my shoulder. With a sideways glance I saw Ray staring at me with the smirk that seemed to be forever implanted onto his face. "So Delgado," he said casually, "from what I hear around school your brother isn't really the soccer star everyone thought he was."

There are many rumors and theories floating around the school as to what happened next and why it happened. Some people say that the whole incident happened because Ray had always been jealous of Tommy's soccer skills. Some think that I had so much pent up emotion in me I had to let it out somehow. Others will also say that I had finally snapped and Ray just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time when it happened. One thing that every student at our school will say though is that Ray had it coming to him and he got what he deserved.

To make a long story short, I slugged Ray so hard that I heard the sound of a bone breaking, and then he fell back into the Turbo Blast machines. I probably would have hit him again but before I had the chance to several people were pulling me back, restraining me from hitting Ray again.

Even though all I could see was red, I could tell that my friends were there, helping me. I could hear them yelling that Ray wasn't worth it and that I had to calm down. But I didn't want to calm down. Why should I? Why shouldn't I feel every emotion possible, since my brother couldn't feel any?

On the ground in front of me, I could make out Ray lying on his back clutching his nose. That must have been the cracking sound I heard. "Are you crazy Delgado?" Ray seethed. "Look what you did!" Someone, I'm pretty sure it was Stella, let go of me and grabbed the front of Ray's shirt. She pulled his face close to hers, whispered something to him then let go of his shirt.

Ray then scrambled to his feet and ran out of the cafeteria. Slowly, ever so slowly, I began to calm down a little bit. The red haze vanished from my eyes and I could make out the concerned faces of my friends around me.

I had scared them, all of them.

The sound of a Segway motor echoed through the cafeteria. Up until that moment, I hadn't realized that the entire room was dead silent. About two-hundred faces had turned to face us. "What is going on here?" Glaring at us with a look of complete disgust was Principal Brenigan. He surveyed the room for a few seconds and then his eyes settled on me.

"Delgado, my office. Now," he ordered. I took a deep breath and slowly followed Brenigan out of the cafeteria. I could feel the eyes of everyone in the room drilling into my back. Just as I passed through the door, the whispering began. People wanted to know what had happened. They didn't really need to know though. I could have cared less what they thought.

Sitting in the office when I walked through was Ray. He was slouched back in his chair, holding an ice pack to his nose. When I walked in, he sat up a little higher in his chair and glared at me. I smirked at him, which is very uncharacteristic for me. Having the ice pack on his nose made him look a lot less intimidating. "Sit down," Brenigan ordered. Much to my disdain, I had to sit next to Ray, but I made it bearable by scooting my chair away from his. Brenigan sat behind his oversized desk and began rubbing his temples.

"So, who wants to start?" he asked.

"Mr. Brenigan, I was just by the Turbo Blast machines when Charlie came over. I said that I was sorry about his brother and then he just punches me for no reason," Ray babbled in a nasally voice.

"What? That is the biggest bunch of bull I have ever heard!" I yelled.

"Mr. Delgado, that is quite enough," Brenigan said slowly. I scoffed and leaned back in my chair. Ray continued to blab on about how he thought I was 'emotionally unstable' and shouldn't be allowed to be in the school until I received 'professional help'. Brenigan sat there the entire time, nodding occasionally.

"I think I've heard enough Mr. Beech. You may go now, back to class." Mr. Brenigan waved his hand and Ray stood up. As he walked past me, Ray smirked as if saying to me 'beat that'.

There was an echoing click as the office door shut and I turned to face Brenigan. Every fiber in my body was expecting uncontrollable rage, but instead, I saw sympathy.

Rewind that moment. Pause. Sympathy? After I had just punched a student in the face and probably broke his nose? He leaned forward ever so slightly in his push desk chair and looked straight at me. "How are you doing Charlie?"

"Been better I guess," I said apathetically. Rather than looking at Principal Brenigan, I studied the intricate wood grain of his desk. There were so many different swirls and patterns in. It was hypnotizing in a way. Brenigan got up from desk and walked around to stand next to me. He crouched down to my eye level and in a casual way I looked over at him. In all the time I have known Brenigan, which was about a year and two a month, I have never seen such an understanding and caring look on his face.

"You don't believe what Ray said do you?" I asked. With a small chuckle he shook his head.

"No Charlie, I don't believe him. But we'll deal with that later all right?" I nodded, glad that for now I wasn't going to get a detention or anything. "Your father phoned me yesterday morning. He said that you haven't been handling the whole situation very well so far." That got my attention. For the past few days my dad had been preoccupied with funeral arrangements and consoling my mom.

"I'm handling things my way. My parents are busy enough; I don't want them to spend time worrying about me. I can handle it on my own. It's not that big a deal."

"I can understand that this is a hard thing for you to come to terms with Charlie, but keeping everything inside isn't going to help anyone. Especially not you. I know this for a fact."

"How do you know?"

"When I was just a few years older than you are now, I lost my older sister. She went to a party and as she was walking home she was hit by a drunk driver. My sister and I were always close growing up and losing her was the hardest thing in my life. I didn't want to talk about it with anyone; I just wanted to be left alone. Every scrap of anger and hate built up inside me, until I finally had to let it out. You know what I did Charlie? I went to the home of the boy who killed my sister and beat him until he was an inch from death. I wanted him to beg for mercy. Now, all of these later I regret what I did every day of my life. Charlie, I don't want that anger to build inside of you. I don't want you to do something you'll regret."

"I'm not angry!" I screamed. I shoved my chair back and it crashed to the floor. "My brother is dead and you think that I feel anger? That has to be the stupidest thing I've ever heard in my life. For days everyone has been asking me how I feel and what I want. Well I'm going to tell you. Right now I feel really annoyed and what I want is for you, my parents, and everyone else to leave me alone!" I stormed across the office, threw open the door but just before I walked out I turned back and said, "And I don't regret what I did to Ray. He got what he deserved if you ask me." Leaving Brenigan standing there with his jaw dropped, I slammed the door behind me and walked out of the main office.

I needed to get away. Far away from this place and from all of these people. So, instead of going back to class, I went to my locked, got my backpack and walked out of the school. I had no idea where I was going because there was no way I was going back home.

As I walked along I passed stores, houses and restaurants. My wanderings took me to the local park. It was mostly empty, except for a few moms pushing little kids on swings. They paid no attention to me as I walked by, and I was ok with that. My phone buzzed in my pocket but instead of looking at it I turned it off and dropped it into my backpack. People were going to have to accept the fact that I didn't feel like talking to anyone.

On the west end of the park, the end where practically no one went to, I found a bench on the end of the pond. Well it wasn't really a pond. It was a cross between a sewer drain and rain water collector. Basically, it was a hole filled with toxic water. Gross.

Time ticked by very slowly. I swear, the minutes just liked to screw with me. The days I wanted to go by quickly moved slower than my grandpa after his knee replacement. "At least there's no one here to bother me," I muttered to no one. After about two hours of sitting and staring at nothing, I got bored so I decided to see what had made my phone ring before. When it turned back on the words '4 new voicemails flashed across the screen. I began listening to them. Each one was from my friends, asking what happened, where I was and if I was OK.

The new messages ended and it went into old ones. Since I had nothing better to do I decided to listen to them. The first one was from my mom asking me to pick up milk on my way home from practice. The second one was from Mo asking me if the history test was on Thursday or Friday. I didn't think there were anymore after that but the automated voice said, "Third skipped message."

"Hey, little bro. Since it's before noon on a Saturday I guess you're still sleeping but I'll leave the message anyway," my brother's voice said to me through the phone. "I know Mom and Dad are dragging you out here for my game next week so how about this? After the game you and I go do something? Just you and me? Give me a call back OK?" The phone message ended but I didn't take the phone away from my ear. Tommy had left this message a week before the game, but I had never listened to it. This message was the last time that my brother had contacted me.

And I missed the call.

I hadn't heard the message.

But now it was too late. Tommy was gone.

This was almost too much to bear. I could easily ignore all the stuff at my house and tune out my parents and the people at school, but this I couldn't ignore. Against my better judgment, I let my mind wander to what was going through Tommy's mind in those last few moments. Was he upset I hadn't called him back? Was he still planning on hanging out after the game? Not knowing was killing me inside.

At that moment, I felt like dirt. No, I was lower than dirt. I was no better than the toxic pond water right in front of me. How could I have let this happen? Absentmindedly I stood up from the bench and edged towards the pond. The little voice deep within my brain was screaming that this was stupid but I chose to ignore it. I could hear the mud squish underneath my sneakers and soon the first traces of water seeped into my shoes and began wetting my socks. Soon I could feel the water on my ankles and I'll be the first to admit that it felt pretty nasty. Unlike normal water, this toxic junk was slimy feeling. I took a deep breath, getting ready to dive into the deeper part of the pond when someone grabbed me from behind and pulled me out of the water. After struggling for a second, I saw that it was Wen.

"Dude what are you doing?" he shouted at me. "Are you trying to turn into a biology experiment?" I looked past Wen to see Olivia, Stella, Mo and Scott all staring at me.

"Charlie?" Olivia asked softly. I looked down, away from her. I knew that if I looked into those huge brown eyes of hers I would completely break down. Wen let go of my shoulders and stepped away from me.

"Come on Charlie, you can talk to us. You know that," Stella pleaded.

"Yeah I know. It's just. It's just…" Mo stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on my arm.

"We're here for you," she said softly. So softly that I think I was the only one to hear her. I had never doubted that they would all be there for me. We were more than a band, we were friends, and in some ways a family. A strange, small, musically inclined family.

"Charlie, I have can understand what you're going through, but I just remember that we're all here for you. Tommy wouldn't want you to be grieving like this and neither do we," Olivia told me. That was my breaking point. I rushed forward and wrapped my arms around Olivia. I could feel a week's worth of tears flow out of my eyes but I refused to let go of Olivia. It didn't take long for everyone to get in on the hug. The six of us all stood there in massive group hug.

I'm not sure what happened in that moment, but something changed. As I was standing in the middle of the park, in my slimy, wet sneakers, surrounded by all of my friends, I felt more at peace than I had since Tommy's death.

After a long while I finally ran out of tears. The others could tell I guess because when I finally stopped, they let go. It was then that I noticed that they had all been crying as well. Wen and Scott had red eyes and Olivia, Mo and Stella all had makeup running down their faces. As weird as it sounds, it made me glad that they were all here crying with me. It meant that they were willing to share my pain, to help me carry the weight that had been threatening to crush me for days. Finally Scott decided to speak up. "Come on guys, let's get out of here. It looks like it's going to rain." Puzzled, I looked up and sure enough there were ominous, black storm clouds above our heads.

"Yeah, let's get out of here. My feet are turning numb," I joked. For the first time in a few days, I actually smiled.

"Well hopefully you won't turn into some sort of horrible slime monster. Though that might be kinda cool if you got super powers," Wen stated as we began to walk out of the park.

"Wen you read way to many comic books for your own good," Stella said as she started laughing. We all laughed along with her but stopped when a loud clap of thunder overpowered our voices.

"Race you guys to the gazebo?" I challenged. I didn't even bother waiting for a response because I just took off running. Scott passed me after a little while but I stayed close on his heels. Stella came next, followed by Wen, Olivia and lastly Mo. We all crammed into the little gazebo to watch the rain pour down.

While we waited for the rain to stop Wen and Stella performed the new rap they had been working on for us. It was awful. Really awful. We took a vote and decided that they were not allowed to write songs together anymore. As we all sat there, talking and laughing I once again imagined what Tommy was thinking in those last few moments. If I knew my brother, he was probably thinking about me and our parents, hoping that we weren't too worried. That, and if he didn't make it that we wouldn't grieve too much. Tommy wouldn't have wanted me to be this upset.

When I was younger he once told me, "Charlie, there are two ways people can die—loved and unloved. The people who are loved will always be remembered by the people who love them, so there's no need to be sad about them being gone. I know that I'm loved by you, Mom and Dad so if I died tomorrow I don't want people to be sad about it." How Tommy was able to come up with something so deep at thirteen years old is beyond me, but there was a lot of truth in what he said that day. Tommy was loved by everyone, so by his standards I don't need to be sad about him being gone, I just need to remember him. I loved him so much; I don't think I could ever forget him.

Even now, despite the fact that he isn't here anymore, Tommy is still giving me advice. That's what he would do if he was here, and it looks like he'll do it still even though he's gone. "Thanks Tommy," I whispered.

"Guys look it stopped raining!" Olivia suddenly exclaimed. We all stepped out of the gazebo and looked up at the sky. Peaking through the clouds were shafts of sunlight. One of those shafts of light fell right in front of me and I looked up at it and smiled. Right past the holes in the clouds I could make out a rainbow. Squinting my eyes I raised my hand to wave at the rainbow and just as soon as it came, it was gone.

Everyone was talking at once about the rainbow and how quickly the storm had ended because those were two things that didn't' happen very often around here. I knew why though. "See you later Bro," I whispered. The holes in the clouds closed up completely and I began to follow my friends out of the park and off to whatever was going to come next.