Wen glanced over his shoulder then shook his head in frustration, moving quickly down the hall for the front door. His dad and step-mom, Sydney, were finally distracted with something in the kitchen allowing him the opportunity to escape his family and the house. He silently turned the knob on the front door swinging it open just enough to slip out then shutting it just as quietly behind himself. Sighing in relief he headed down the street prepared but oddly happy to be facing his "doom". Olivia was going to kill him.
Ok, he knew he was being overly dramatic and that Olivia was about as violent as the kitten, Daisy, he'd given to her. But he knew she was very likely to be beating herself up, self-doubt firmly in control of the sweet girl. He also knew if she was feeling down, he only had himself to blame.
Four days had passed since the interview with Moxie Morris. Four long days since he had confessed feelings for his beautiful friend and the band songbird on national television. Granted, it wouldn't have been his first choice of venues for expressing his affections for her, but her intention when she'd blurted out "It's me and Wen. We've been dating-ish. I guess" was simply to take the focus off Mohini. Unfortunately the petite blonde had completely caught him off guard. He felt terrible first for misunderstanding and jumping to the conclusion that she'd meant she was seeing Scott. Wen was not a violent person, but he would have happily wiped the smirk off Scott's face at that moment. But even when she'd made herself clear and comprehension settling in, he'd been struck dumb until she'd finally stumbled into silent embarrassment and dejection before he could find the words to reassure her, "Oh, no, no, no. YEAH! She- She's my girl." Then he'd reached for her hand, briefly touching her thigh to attract her attention to his out reached palm. He held her hand while he gazed at her as it slowly dawned on him. 'Really? Wow!' He'd mouthed at her. He was happy, though a little nervous with the new phase that seemed to have just started and couldn't stop fidgeting thru the rest of the interview. He was barely aware of anything going on around him except for the slender fingers entwined with his, and the uncertain smile on Olivia's face. He nearly jumped when Stella gripped his shoulder, "Together, making the music we love. Now I think we'd really like to play our new song for you." brought him back to the world outside of himself and Olivia with a bump. Gratefully he had hopped up, happy to be moving but disappointed that he had to release the soft white hand from his own. He had been very aware of every move she made during their performance even as he concentrated, or appeared to, on his keyboard. He'd offered her his hand to help her down from her perch during the second verse of the song and on impulse kissed the back of her hand, the feel of her skin on his lips and the surprise in her warm brown eyes sent butterflies fluttering in his gut. At the end of the song he'd pulled Olivia to his side in a strong hug, overwhelmed by the emotions of the performance as well as excited and nervous about being able to openly touch Olivia as more than a friend.
After everything had seemed settled with the show, he had meant to go talk to her, in private, but Stella and her mom chose that moment to remind him that he had a fan, an aspiring young rapper, that had won a contest to meet him. He had tried to persuade them to give him a couple of minutes, glancing at Olivia over Mrs. Yamada's shoulder. The girl was watching him her expression hard to read but disappointment would have been one emotion he would have bet money on being present in her thoughts. In the end no amount of arguing could dissuade Mrs. Yamada, giving Wen insight to the source of Stella's stubborn streak, and he had spent the rest of the evening playing host to the overly excited preteen. By the time he had fulfilled his obligation and the boy had left with his parents, as well as several signed tee-shirts, hats and two ad-libbed raps about random things, Wen discovered it was nearing midnight and that Olivia had already turned in for the night. The next morning there was a rush to get breakfast and make the trek by van to the airport to arrive in time. A small but annoying platoon of legitimate photographers outside the hotel and an ambush of paparazzi at the airport continued to prevent Wen from saying anything beyond a breathless "Good morning" to Olivia as they moved thru the busy airport. Try as he might to stay by her side he soon found himself separated by luggage, equipment, and the press of bodies boarding their flight home. Even onboard the plane, fate interfered. He found Olivia wedged against a window and blocked in her first class seat by a rather irritable fat man that didn't appreciate Wen's attempts to talk to Olivia from across the aisle. She didn't seem to even be aware that he was trying to get her attention or how rude her seatmate was being.
Wen was relieved that the flight would be such a short one, compared to the original cross country flight that they'd taken from Atlanta to get to LA. He had promised himself that they would talk when they landed, even if he had to drag Olivia off into a family bathroom to do it. Unfortunately his own family, his dad, his little sister Georgie, and Sydney had been waiting for them to deplane and had hauled him off home with a desperate glance back at Olivia where she stood being hugged by Gram. He thought he'd seen her look at him then but she dropped her gaze when he mimed using a phone. Sighing in frustration he'd allowed himself to be taken home only to discover that his dad was insisting that he spend some family time for the next week. Three barbeques, two trips to the beach and a visit to his aunt and uncle in the next county had left him desperate to escape his family. So given the opportunity he had taken it, willing to face the anger of his dad later.
As he'd promised he'd attempted to call Olivia, several times, over the last few days. She never answered. That silence caused him to hesitate to call her house directly, thinking that maybe she was angry with him. Instead he began sending texts occasionally, offering apologies, asking that she call him, asking if everything was okay. The silence really started to worry him. Maybe he had been imagining more into their relationship than there was. Maybe she was rethinking this new dimension to their friendship and was avoiding him until she could find a way out of it. Even the other band members had been strangely quiet, though he suspected one phone call that had arrived that very morning had been Stella. His dad had answered, talking politely for a moment before firmly hanging up. When he asked about the call, his dad's only reply was "telemarketer". Wen had distinctly heard his dad tell the caller, "I'll let him know." The isolation from his friends, especially his best friend was making him crazy.
Wen turned onto Olivia's street, moving faster to cover the last few blocks to her house. He really wanted to see her.
He missed Olivia. He missed her smile, her dimples, and the way the corners of her soft brown eyes crinkled when she laughed. He missed her laugh. He missed the warm hugs she sometimes shared with him. He missed the faint smell of green apples and soft roses that encircled him during those hugs. The scent was young and fresh while soft and romantic, all very Olivia. He missed the sharp wit, kind nature, and the quirky sense of humor she had. He missed seeing her trip while walking over smooth surfaces.
Since first grade, Wen had known Olivia as the quiet, awkward one that stood on the side watching everything that went on around her. He'd been aware of her all thru school, though he had never actually spent much time considering her. In sixth grade he'd stepped forward when in her usual scurry to avoid issues with some of the nastier students she'd tripped and fallen hard, books flying everywhere. While everyone else in the hall had laughed at her, he'd alternately felt concern for the girl and anger at the other students. To this day he kicked himself for not being more observant at that time, for not really seeing the warmth of her brown eyes, the spirit that hid in their depths. Instead he'd dated a couple of other girls from their class, with varying degrees of failure. All the while he remained distantly aware of Olivia standing outside the rest of the crowd.
That fateful afternoon in detention had been a wakeup call to him. Here was this quiet, unassuming, pretty girl that hid a quick wit and compelling voice. He jumped at the chance Stella had offered when she'd suggested that he visit Olivia and help her write some songs for the new group. That first afternoon he'd been very willing to move passed her embarrassment over her grandmother's friend comment, after all he'd already suspected as much since he had rarely seen her talking with anyone else in school and knew she spent most of her time alone reading. He had felt terrible for making her cry when he noticed her cat Nancy. "Wow, that's an old cat" popped out of his mouth before he could stop himself. He was aware that her mom had passed away years before but curiosity about her home life had overcome his commonsense. Why didn't she live with her dad? He could see her trying to hide her tears and her voice broke to a bare whisper as she asked if they could just work on the music. Apparently her family life was as painful as he had felt his was at the time. He had gotten lost in the soft voice that sung in his ear that afternoon, caught up in her eyes after their voices had trailed away. "I like it when you smile" He'd meant it but didn't realize he'd said it aloud until she'd smiled shyly and dropped her gaze.
In a way he was glad the words had slipped out. The fact that she hadn't been horrified and her smile had gotten bigger he took as an invitation to keep visiting her. The more time he spent with her the more he wanted to know more of her. He learned quickly that she was clever with words and very book smart. He learned she had a sense of responsibility that seemed even stronger than her stage fright. Why else would she have even shown up for the Halloween Bash performance? She could easily have just stayed home and shut off her phone. To know that she'd done it for him left him speechless even now, six months later. Even the revelation about her father hadn't put him off. It wasn't her fault after all and with all the troubles she'd suffered stoically over the years had him realizing what a baby he had been and that she deserved good friends if anyone did.
Wen also had learned that Olivia had a quirky, goofy side when she was comfortable. That she was just as ready to joke around and join in the mayhem that was Lemonade Mouth in their downtime made her even more attractive to him. It was also not lost on him that while she had disliked the name "Soul Groove" as offered by Charlie way back in the naming of the group, she'd been willing to allow Stella to call the band "The Anarchists". She hadn't appeared to be saying it to appease their spit fire captain either, but was honestly willing to have that label. He had also noticed that as sharply dressed as Mo frequently was, as loud as Stella as outfits were, he was extremely aware that Olivia's cute skirts and dresses were short, very short, revealing much more leg than either of her fellow, more worldly, female band members. Not that Wen was complaining. Olivia was beautiful in every way possible. One of the first afternoons that they had been invited to Stella's house for an official pool party (instead of the impromptu jump in the pool after filming "More than a Band" with Stella's little brothers) Olivia had stepped out of the house in a modest pale blue bikini, looking gorgeous if somewhat self-conscious. Wen had had to turn away quickly, hoping no one had notice his embarrassing situation, finally jumping in the pool to regain some self-control. Thankfully she hadn't seemed to have noticed his behavior and the two began spending even more time together. A few months ago he'd stopped by one afternoon to visit Olivia only to find her and her grandmother preparing to spread a small delivery of mulch in their flower beds. He'd offered to help them, but by the time the evening band practice had rolled around he was feeling a little crispy and drained. Olivia had surprised him after practice with a bottle of aloe and a sport drink as a gift from her, and a quick kiss on the cheek "from Gram" as a thank you. As she'd stepped back from him through his surprise he'd seen her cheeks were bright pink while she'd smiled and dashed out the door, pausing to throw him a wave, and moving far more gracefully than he'd ever seen her move.
Wen suddenly found himself standing on the steps of Olivia's porch. He hesitated, trying to calm himself before approaching the door. Finally mentally prepared, he crossed the porch and knocked on the door. He wasn't prepared for Gram to answer his knock. Somehow it had never occurred to him that Olivia wouldn't always be the one standing on the other side of that door. Still, he plastered what he hoped was a happy smile on his face and entered the house when she invited him in.
