Hey lovely people. This may suck. I don't know. In the midst of much stressing and tests and such, so it's a bit disjointed... Basically Wen and Olivia at his house one Saturday.
Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own Lemonade Mouth. If I did I wouldn't be stressing about the fact that I potentially failed my Philosophy test today, because I'd just have my awesome writing talent and brilliantly famous movie to fall back on... As I only have my moderately-sometimes-a-bit-ok talent and no movie, I'll have to keep worrying!
Her bike's wheels crunched along the gravel road as she made the jarring trek up to his house, blonde hair tumbling out of her plait, white-knuckle grip on the handle bars. She could never get over how fancy it was, how big, no matter how many times she visited him. The large red ranch-style house with acres of land and horses, yes actual horses, was a mansion compared to her tiny little house, filled with antiques and things knitted and crocheted by her Gram, set to the ever present soundtrack of Chopin. Not that she didn't love her ramshackle old house, she did, but it was nothing compared to Wen's place. In more ways than one. Wen's house was full of life and energy and family, hers just had her and Gram, and Daisy, of course. She lent her bike against the wall and made her way to the front door. Pressing her finger into the doorbell Olivia bounced nervously on the balls of her feet, one hand clutching the notebook which she had carefully placed into the basket of her bike. She should have called first, but she had needed to get out of the house, clear her head, and she had been riding around and had just happened to find herself in the neighbourhood, and hey, she had some lyrics which needed accompaniment and so here she found herself. She sucked her lip under her top teeth and considered leaving, but then the door opened and revealed a smiling, aproned Sydney.
"Olivia! Hi! Wen's not here at the moment, he's out riding with his dad. Bonding. Was he expecting you? It's just like him to have forgotten if he was. Well, no matter, come in any way, Georgie and I are making cupcakes to surprise them when they get back. We've just put them in the oven."
Wen's new stepmother chattered on as she ushered Olivia into the tidy house. Sydney was used to her quiet demeanour, so she didn't really mind that she wasn't saying much. Olivia appreciated it. She wasn't very comfortable with talking to people she didn't know very well, though she was getting to know Sydney and the rest of Wen's family better and better, the more time she spent at his house, writing songs, getting coaxed into riding, hanging out with the band, just being. It was so much easier to just be when Wen was around. She could breathe better with him near, unconsciously relaxing every time he entered a room. Sydney led her into the kitchen where Georgie was sitting on the counter, legs swinging, licking chocolate cupcake mix off of a spoon. She grinned as Olivia entered the room, giving her a garbled greeting, spoon in mouth. Olivia smiled back. She liked Georgie. The girl was tough, smart, and curiously protective of her brother. She was startlingly different from him, but sometimes she had such Wen-like mannerisms that Olivia had to do a double-take. She envied Stella and Charlie and Wen their siblings. She loved living with her Gram and little Daisy, but sometimes it got lonely with just the two, well, the three, of them there in the house, their tiny, hobbled together excuse of a family. Olivia often felt that one day, when she was older and wiser and more accomplished, when she had achieved her dreams and settled down, that she'd like a big family, in a house just like Wen's, with plenty of room for lots of noise and excitement and movement and people.
"What can I do to help?" She asked, leaning cautiously against the counter next to Georgie. The girl handed her another spoon and the bowl that held the remnants of the cupcake mix and shrugged. Sydney watched as they interacted, Georgie telling Olivia about something that had happened at school that week, and she couldn't help but smile. She liked the quiet lead singer of her stepson's band. His best friend. Wen didn't tell her that it had been Olivia who had helped him come to terms with his father's fiancé and had helped bridge the gap between them, but Sydney suspected it had something to do with her. She and her stepson had a much closer relationship now and she just knew that in some small way Olivia had played a part in that. She was good for Wen, Sydney knew that too, she helped keep him grounded and calmer, helped him to see the wood for the trees. Gave him some perspective. And Sydney could see that Wen was good for Olivia as well. He brought out the confidence in her, the more care-free, more spirited and fearless version of herself, and Sydney never saw Olivia talk or smile more than when Wen was by her side. The other members of the band were special to her, her best friends, but Wen was different and it seemed to Sydney that everyone knew that, everyone, it seemed, except for Wen and Olivia themselves. Sydney was glad that Lemonade Mouth had helped them find each other, though she had a suspicion that Wen had always quite fancied the girl who would become his lead singer.
Georgie loved it when Olivia came over. She liked all of her brother's new friends, of course, and it was really very cool that they were all in this famous-ish band, and all of the people at school were so jealous that she had such an awesome brother, and people actually asked her for things like autographs from him and his friends and stuff, but, anyway, she liked Olivia the best. She would always go out of her way to talk to Georgie about her day, and she had once helped her with this English project that she had forgotten about, and Georgie liked having someone to talk to about books and baking and stuff, and Liv liked all of those things. Plus she wrote cool songs. Plus she had pretty hair. Plus there was the fact that her brother was always so nice to her after Olivia left, because, she always made him so smiley. So, really, if you were to ask Georgie, Olivia was pretty awesome. She thought that Liv and her brother would make a cute couple, because they were both old enough for stuff like cooties not to be an issue and they obviously made each other happy and they both blushed every time the other walked into the room. But then again, no one ever did ask Georgie. She handed Olivia a spoon with the cupcake mixture and excitedly told her about the fact that they had gone to some museum at school that week and she had seen this massive dinosaur skeleton, with huge feet and these sharp, pointy teeth, and the Davey Nichols had pretended to be a dinosaur for the whole day, and even though she thinks he's stupid, sometimes she thinks that maybe he's kind of funny.
Wen rubbed the grooming brush down the flank of his horse, humming a snatch of melody that had been playing on his mind. He loved riding his horse. It gave him time to think, to bond with nature, and to bond with his dad. It made him feel alive; there was a rush, a thrill, an inner peace. He did some of his best song writing whilst out riding, in those quiet moments when neither he nor his father were talking, when their horses were walking in the cool, tree-lined, sun-dappled path at the bottom of their property. "New song Wen? It's nice." His father called from the next stall over. They had been building bridges of late, getting over the antagonism and resentment that had created chasms between them the year before. Wen was starting to realise that his post-Lemonade Mouth, post-remarriage, new-friends-new-family life was perhaps better than his old one. Fuller. He still had his mom, but now he had a happy father, a more cheerful sister and a new stepmom who he'd have to admit was actually pretty awesome, now that he'd given her half a chance. He finished grooming his horse and followed his father out of the stables, stomping the mud off of his boots as he got to the back door, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it on the peg inside. His dad was chatting on about the fact that he'd seen some footage of Lemonade Mouth on TV the other day, and how proud he was of his one and only son, and who'd've thought those piano lessons would pay off like they did, when he stopped mid-sentence and sniffed the air. Cupcakes. They both hustled to the kitchen, where they found an excitable Georgie yammering to a blushing Olivia whilst an amused-looking Sydney watched on, cupcakes baking in the oven. Georgie jumped off the counter, with an exuberant "Surprise!" and Olivia gave Wen and his dad an awkward little wave, the tips of her ears reddening, scuffing the toe of her boot against the tiles. Wen's heart gave this lame leap when he saw her, stopped and stuttered back into existence, racing and rushing and stumbling, butterflies swooping. It always did that when he saw her; thumped so hard that he was always a little shocked, and more than a little relieved, that no-one could hear it. He learnt in Biology about the heart's function, it's pumping the blood, providing the organs with that vital bit of life source, but it had always seemed to him that its higher function was this, this tripping, tumbling, shuddering, racing declaration of breathless love.
"Your sister has just been explaining to Olivia about your unusual lack of cooties."
Kids. You've gotta love 'em.
Wen rocked back onto his heels awkwardly, cleared his throat and rubbed his hand on the back of him neck, at a loss as to how exactly to respond to this. He settled with an 'oh' and a hasty change of subject. He asked Olivia what she was doing there, then hastily added that it wasn't that he didn't want her there, it's just that he didn't know they had plans, and did they have plans, did he forget and and and. Olivia put a stop to his rambling, thank god, with a quiet shake of the head. She patted the notebook at her side. Then she murmured in that soft, hesitant voice of hers, the one that she sometimes used when she was feeling unsure of herself, so unlike the powerful, strong, brave voice she used when on stage, the one that defied the idea that she had stage fright, the one that made the world sit up and take notice, no, it was not that voice she was using now, it was her asked-a-question-in-class-people-are-looking-at-me-help voice, maybe they could work on some songs, perhaps and was it a bad time and oh gosh sorry she was interrupting. The two teens would have gone on forever in this circular I-like-you-but-I-won't-admit-it-rambling-nervously-oh-my-my-hearts-beating-out-of-my-chest-red-in-the-face-overly-polite-but-I-really-love-you dance if Wen's father hadn't interjected, commenting on the nice day, and suggesting that perhaps if they wanted to work they could do so outside in the little grove of orange trees out back, where there were comfortable chairs and sunshine. They both nodded and Wen reached out for Olivia's hand, before dropping his own back down to his side, because she wasn't his girlfriend and one can't just randomly hold someone else's hand, even if that someone is one's best friend. So they walked side by side, and their knuckles would graze each other occasionally and both would jump a bit because of that little, niggling spark of electricity shooting up through their bodies.
They reached the grove and pulled two of the lawn chairs close together, so that Wen could see Olivia's notes, and so that they were so close that Wen's breath tickled Olivia's cheek as he made quiet suggestions to the lyrics that were strewn across the pages of her notebook, in amidst the doodles of flowers and books and cats and little love hearts. He was making a suggestion about the bridge and occasionally he trailed off because he got distracted by the way the wind was ruffling through her blonde hair and the way she bit the end of her pen as she was thinking and really, it was difficult to focus on raps and mixes when Olivia was right there and laughing at one of his lame jokes, head tilted back, sun shining sweetly on her face. And Olivia, she had that on-top-of-the-world feeling that she has whenever she's with Wen, the feeling that she can conquer her fears. It's that feeling she got that first Lemonade Mouth performance, after the 'we believe in you, I believe in you' moment and, you know, she can do anything if she knows that he believes in her. She started singing quietly, with her eyes closed, the words she had penned playing in her mind, words which were about love and friendship and complications and will-they-won't-they's. Words which weren't about her and Wen, no, not at all, not even a little bit. Wen watched her carefully and thought about the fact that this, this right here, was someone that he maybe potentially kind of sort of just a little bit more like a lot loved or could love, or was definitely falling in love with, and he wanted to reach out and brush the hair from her face and tell her how pretty she looked today. He didn't though, of course he didn't. But after a while, after they had run through the song and he had come up with a rap that she'd exclaimed to be spectacular, and then had blushed and looked away and he'd gone all red and stammer-y and they'd talked about some project they had for school and the fact that Stella had mouthed off at some teacher but hadn't gotten into trouble and pondered over what Olivia should get Gram for her birthday, and Wen had told her that he was really nervous for their upcoming exams and she'd professed the fact that she was concerned about the new lyrics, he couldn't help it, couldn't help himself, he'd reached out and his hand hadn't retracted at the last minute and she'd stopped talking and there was silence, such sweet silence, loaded with implications and promise. It wasn't in some spectacular scene. There was no running-to-the-airport-tell-her-you-love her moment, no disaster that made him aware of how much she meant to him or her understand that she couldn't live without him, no dramatic occurrence that brought about a sudden revelation. It was just two teenagers, sitting side by side, revelling in each other's company on a beautiful sunny Saturday. He cupped her face and her breath hitched and this wasn't him dreaming or her pretending, this was real, this was happening. He lent in closer and her eyes slipped closed and it was bliss, pure and simple, sweet and timid.
Georgie stood at the outskirts of the little grove of trees, her hand clasped firmly in Sydney's, who was balancing a tray of cupcakes in her other hand, eyes wide. Sydney looked down at her and smiled as the girl put her finger on her lips. "Maybe we should just give them their cupcakes later..."
A/N: Gosh, I am such a sap. Can't be helped I'm afraid. Anyway, sorry for the somewhat disjointed nature of this, the fact that it may be OOC, especially Wen, but, like I said, I'm a sap, and also a little bit badly written. And lame. Oh, also, I don't know the age of Georgie, so I'm just assuming like grade three or four. I liked the idea of Wen's whole family dying for them to get together. Still, reviews = love and happiness and sunshine =)