A Lemonade Mouth FanFiction.

Love is a serious mental disease

Plato

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Playing Cupid

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I'm never leaving my house again, was the last non-violent thought that fluttered through Stella Yamada's mind as the closet door was shut. The muffled giggling and whispers through the door caused an exaggerated eye roll from the guitarist as she crossed her arms with a huff.

"What are you waiting for Yamada; don't you know how this game works?"

Irritating little worm, she thought sourly. She could practically see his smirk, the way he leaned against the opposite wall in his usual nonchalance fashion with his hands in his pockets as his ice blue orbs watched her through the darkness nestled between them.

"Hasn't it occurred to you that I'd rather eat live snails than kiss you?"

"I'm pretty sure that was mentioned in a Thousand Ways to Die."

"Good then you get my meaning," Stella stated flatly. "How much time do I have to consider my suicide?"

His sardonic chuckle was heard so clearly through the small space that she swore she could feel his every breath caressing her burning cheeks. Damn closet.

"Seven minutes or so the game is called."

"Glad you left out the "heaven" part."

There was a silence.

"It could be…"

"Don't even try it."

"What?"

Stella scoffed. "Don't try and flirt with me, it doesn't suit you. In fact, if that's how you sound when you seduce the rest of the female population, I'm surprised you get more attention than a fifty year old piece of pre-chewed gum."

"Ouch. Someone needs a happy meal." With an overdramatic sigh, Ray continued, "Can't blame a guy for trying. I mean, kissing is a part of the game."

"No it's not."

"Yes. It is."

"It's called Seven minutes in Heaven, not Seven minutes of Making Out," she stated, leaning against the door and ruffling a hand through her bronzed locks in her growing agitation.

"Again, that's totally up to you."

"Not on your life."

"Geez, you're more up-tight than I thought Yamada," he commented in mock disappointment. "I thought you'd relish the idea of going against the social order and making out with enemy number one."

A stiff silence met him.

If he only knew what she had been struggling with for the past few months then maybe he'd leave her alone. Or he could take full advantage of it, knowing his opportunistic personality.

A girl in love was a girl that was easily led astray.

Cupid had a sick sense of humor.

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Stella vaguely noted that she was standing in the parking lot and having her usual screaming match with Ray Beech. She didn't remember what they were arguing about this time, she could rarely recall what even caused any of their fights in the first place, but it happened so often that maybe she just lost interest in the "why" and focused on the "go to hell" part.

She didn't even care that half the parking lot occupants, an assortment of students, were rolling their eyes in annoyance and muttering to themselves, "Here we go again."

His girlfriend Patty, however, was quickly losing patience.

Then again, what girlfriend wouldn't?

Ray Beech, her on-off boyfriend for a record week and a half, spent all his time, attention and energy on putting down Stella Yamada that the blond barely noticed anyone else's existence. It was like she didn't wasn't even there, and Patty wouldn't stand for it any longer.

Her usual, "Ray, baby let's go already" was answered the same way it usually was. Not even a bare glance at her from the corner of his eye. It was like she was invisible! "You can't seriously want to waste your time with this wannabe do you? You're too important to stoop that low!" Again, no response was given.

With a dramatic huff and violent flick of her red hair, Patty declared loudly, "Ray that's enough, if you want to stay my boyfriend then you'll leave that Lemon Head and take me to my locker."

Most people would know by now that when the two teenagers fought, everyone could go to hell.

Today, they both decided on a brief pause to reply simultaneously, "Shut up Patty!"

The red haired cheerleader stood in shock, gaping like a fish for a whole fifteen seconds before she burst, spitting violent words, graphic threats and spastic hand-motions. Neither of the two teens noticed until she threw her purse at Ray in frustration and proclaimed, "You two are perfect for each other!"

It was like some sort of epiphany. The statement didn't leave Stella's mind the whole day and it got even worse when she decided to rant to her friends and band-mates about it:

"Can you believe Patty? That girl is definitely off her meds!"

"She's not too far off the mark though," Charlie commented as he munched on his French fry.

This reply, and the casual way he spoke it, irked the half-Asian girl as she cocked a brow at him and asked in a deadly sort of calm, "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"I think he just means that when you two are together it's like nobody else is there…" Olivia offered, getting Mo to nod her head in agreement.

"We know you don't like him or anything, but when you two are arguing," she paused to think of a circumstance and continued, "a comet could be falling out of the sky and you two would be too busy blaming each other for the end of humanity that you wouldn't even notice."

Wen raised his can of soda as he said his piece, "It's like the perfect hate-hate relationship."

"Exactly! It's hate, why would Patty even think we were perfect together? I mean seriously, how messed up would either of us have to be to even agree to seeing each other more than enemies?"

"Well it is possible you know," Olivia pointed out, "After all, hate isn't the opposite of love; indifference is. Hate is just a different kind of passion and if you think about it, you can totally redirect it towards love."

Stella disregarded her friend's statement at the time, but the more she thought about it the more it started to chew at her self-conscious.

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Could she be totally immune to the absolutely infuriating Ray Beech? Could she be completely indifferent to his verbal advances and annoying blue eyed stare? Of course she could, she was Stella Yamada. Just because Ray laid out the bait, didn't mean she had to take it.

But sadly when it came to the soccer player, it was too easy to fall into temptation:

"You're an idiot!"

"You're stupid!"

"Fake blond!"

"Fake Asian!"

"You're like a wart on the butt of society!"

"You're like a moustache on a supermodel!"

"I can't believe you were the sperm that won the race!"

"I can't believe your parents didn't sue the condom factory!"

"Oh please, your birth certificate is an apology from the condom factory!"

Did it occur to her that no matter what, she'd always react to Ray Beech? Nope. Did it occur to her that she could feel something more than anger at him? Not in a million years.

And what did Cupid say?

Challenge accepted.

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It was a week. He was absent from school for a whole week. Who would be absent for school for a whole week? She didn't know and she liked to think that she didn't care.

Sadly Stella was a terrible liar.

"I wonder what happened to Ray," Mo thought aloud, voicing the question repeating in the guitarist's head, that, and why she was so concerned about the missing jock.

Behind the drum-set, Charlie raised a brow. "Do you actually care?"

The Indian girl frowned. "Well not about him, I was wondering about Scott. He said that Ray needed him and he hasn't told me what for…"

"Hey your Scott's girlfriend, not his parole officer he doesn't need to tell you every little bit that goes on in his life," Wen said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Besides, it's probably pretty serious if Ray's willing to take Scott back."

The group murmured their agreements and band practiced continued. An hour later, Stella found herself taking a detour through the park on her way home, only to be met with the odd sight of a slumped jerk sitting on a bench with his head in his hands.

Everything she associated with Ray Beech involved the words "strong", "untouchable" and "uncaring". All of it suddenly seemed wrong.

Cautiously she walked closer to get a better look.

Maybe it wasn't him?

At that moment as she stood only a few paces in front of him, he flung his head from his hands and ran an open palm over his face and through his hair. The signature golden spikes, the sun-kissed skin and the Pacific blue eyes. Yes it was definitely Ray Beech. If she was startled by the sight of his blood-shot eyes, his slightly red nose and his obviously tear stained cheeks, he was even more startled at having someone catch him in such a state.

"What are you doing here?"

"It's a public place isn't it?" she asked in return, the question sounding less vindictive than what she would usually go for. He didn't seem to notice.

"Now's not the time Yamada," he said flatly. "I'll take your Lemon Head nonsense tomorrow. Not now."

'What happened?' sat on her tongue and waited to be asked. But somehow she knew that she wouldn't get an answer and simply sat on the bench beside him. Ray didn't protest and the two sat in silence.

Her natural impatience crept in and she had to hold onto the bench to prevent attacking him with a barrage of questions she had no reason to ask. It wasn't as if she cared right?

Thankfully his question cut off the mental argument in her mind, "Why are you here?"

"Why shouldn't I be?"

"Why stay?"

The retort came naturally, "Why answer questions with questions?"

His mouth opened and shut before he shook his head, his hand sliding over his face again. A feeble attempt, she noted, to hide away the tear stains on his cheeks. "I really don't want to get into this right now."

Stella wasn't the type of person to take self-pity from others or to comfort people. When people were upset, she left them alone. But for some reason she couldn't bring herself to do it now and instead spoke in their usual tone of banter, "And why is that? The Ray Beech I know would jump head long and get his ass whooped by yours truly."

He fell effortlessly into step. "You wish," Ray said with a snort, "I can beat you easily, no problem."

"Yes, because beating a small Asian girl is a huge accomplishment," Stella stated with a roll of her eyes as she leaned against the bench. "I think that's Check and Mate Beech. So what's eating you?"

"I didn't know winning an argument meant you were allowed to care."

"Well I'm in a good mood," she informed him, "and thanks for acknowledging the fact that I won."

A single moment passed, a moment long enough for Ray to think about the words but not long enough to fully understand the complications of it, especially for Stella.

He answered in a strained voice, "My mom has cancer."

There was a jumble of blurred events. The words of a heart-to-heart between her and her 'enemy', and the fact that she was comforting him were the main element of her memory.

Cupid's mission was accomplished.

Stella Yamada would fall for Ray Beech.

But damn it all if she didn't resist with all the power a revolutionary had in reserve when she wasn't dethroning Ice Princes and giving Principals migraines.

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The blue light of her cell-phone illuminated her face as Stella checked the time. One more minute; a full sixty seconds, she took a deep breath. I can do this.

"So you're telling me we're stuck in this closet and you still won't kiss me?" Ray asked in disbelief, only his eyes visible through the shadows that cloaked him.

Her cinnamon colored eyes met his, an overly romantic thought about how bright and hypnotic his eyes looked and how the longer you stared at them the deeper you drowned in them…or something of that level of stupidity. It wasn't like she was thinking about it. Stella looked away.

"Yes."

There was a pause.

"Yes you'll kiss me or yes we're stuck here and you're thinking about it?"

Why did he have to make it so hard?

Ray had no idea about what he'd release if he dared to open Pandora's Box, it would be catastrophic.

His number had a customized ringtone on her phone. She made it a habit to start arguments as often as possible just to have an excuse to talk to him. She met him at that bench in the park every Thursday since he told her about his mother just so they could sit there. She even found herself staring at him unnecessarily and then feeling all giddy when she found that he was already looking her way.

And when he smiled, oh no, that smile would be the death of her.

Oh gods. If they kissed, who knows what horrors would be unleashed?

She'd be all girly and sentimental and he probably wouldn't care if she tied bricks to her feet and threatened to jump into the ocean. He would probably snicker and chant, "Do it, do it, do it!"

No. She wouldn't take the leap. She wasn't some stupid love-sick girl. Cupid was a demented little brat and he would not win by getting her to fall for Ray. Even if she had already, Stella would never admit it out loud.

He was Ray Beech for gods' sakes!

"Oh, so you aren't sure?"

Twenty-three, twenty-two, twenty-one…

"Alright then…"

Fifteen, fourteen, thirteen…

Through the door, their friends counted down. Someone on the other side neared the door to fling it open and expose the couple that had landed under the deadly hold of the empty bottle. They were probably expecting the two to have sex-hair, bruised lips and mussed clothing.

Even their friends thought along Cupid's line of thinking and making them play Seven Minutes in Heaven was probably their sick way of getting them to admit their 'undying love' for one another…or at least have them make out.

Three, two, one…

The knob turned and just as a single beam of fluorescent light invaded, Stella suddenly found a pair of lips planted against hers.

His hair was soft, his skin felt coarse but smooth and he smelt utterly amazing. She felt his hand move from her cheek to the back of her neck while his other arm wormed itself around her waist to hold her in place. All this revealed with the closet door open and multiple pairs of eyes stared at them.

A beat of silence passed.

Oh shit.

The childish sounds of kissy noises, cooing 'you guys look so cute together' and condescending congratulations sounded around them, the noise irritating Ray into pulling away from her lips.

"Would you idiots keep it down? We're kind of busy."

Without waiting for a response, he grabbed the doorknob again and shut the closet door.

Was it cliché to fall for your enemy? Yes.

Did Cupid particularly care? Nope.

Her sanity was going to be on the line and what did Cupid have to say for himself? "You two are perfect together!" Though in all fairness that comment was said in the most sarcastic voice imaginable.

Who knew Patty would be the one to play Cupid?

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Finis

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A/n: To Ella: I totally spoofed the title of the story; I still read your Playing Mr. Nice Guy and smile, hope this does the same!

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