We're getting there! I don't want the story to end. It has been a blast to write it. But these two kids just have to get together for once and for all!

I don't own Lemonade Mouth.

Chapter 20

There were three other bands performing, but Lemonade Mouth had been given an early call time. They had enough experience by then to know that some clubs, especially new ones, were highly concerned about getting all the tech issues worked out before the night began. So, they weren't terribly surprised by the early call time.

They were, however, surprised by their place in the line-up. They were not the headliners for the night. Each band was told to perform for no longer than a half hour, and there was no headliner. In these set-ups, one of two things almost always happened: one of the earlier bands in the evening performed for too long, thereby shortening everyone else's set or bumping out the last band altogether. Or, everyone complied, until the last band, who would play an extra-long set, acting as if they were the headliner.

The members of Lemonade Mouth were annoyed at this news. Usually, they were happy to perform wherever and whenever they got the chance. But this was during the week, and it was difficult to get out to the venue. Furthermore, most of the club was packed with their fans. It seemed only fair that they should get to perform longer, since the club's earnings intake that night was due almost entirely to Lemonade Mouth performing there that night.

Mr. Gifford was trying to work this out with the owner when Ray walked up. "What's going on?" he asked Scott (his voice was nearly entirely recovered by then).

"Hey, man! I'm glad you could make it!" Scott filled him in on the line-up situation.

"You have got to be kidding me." said Ray. "Where are you in the line-up?"

"Third."

"Who's after you?"

"Wingéd Eyeliner."

Ray curled his lip and rolled his eyes in disgust. "Who comes up with these ridiculous names?"

By this point, Stella had approached them.

"Well, you came up with ours," said Stella. She was trying desparately to sound casual, to try to hide how happy she was to see him. Ray, however, nearly jumped at the sound of her voice.

He also tried, ineffectively, to sound calm. His voice came out in a higher-than-natural tone. "I was trying to insult you at the time. If I'd known you were going to make it a household name, I'd have gotten a copyright on it."

Stella shrugged. Then she turned to Scott, "We've got to rearrange the set. For one thing, I don't want to premiere the new song here. They don't deserve that prestige. We can do it at Dante's on Saturday, which seems fitting. Don't you think?" Scott was nodding in agreement.

But Ray would have none of it. He had been patient for long enough. He didn't know whether or not he would ever get to win over Stella, but one thing was certain: he had to hear that song, and now. "Mind if I give it a try?" He nodded in the direction of Wen's dad trying to talk to the club owner.

Stella looked at Scott. Scott said, "Let him. He used to do this kind of thing for Mudslide Crush all the time, and he knows some business stuff from his dad." "OK," said Stella.

To Ray, she said, "Go ahead." She and Scott went with him on the pretense of needing to know how to put together their set for the evening, but really because they were deathly curious.

Ray approached Mr. Gifford, and said, "Sir, may I?" Mr. Gifford looked confused. He saw Scott and Stella, who both emphatically nodded their approval. Mr. Gifford backed away, and motioned for Ray to take his place.

Ray turned to the owner, "What's this I hear about you not headlining Lemonade Mouth?"

"Who are you?"

"I'm the manager." The owner looked at Mr. Gifford. Ray pre-empted him, "That guy's my assistant. Now, do you wish to tell me why a nationally renowned band is tucked behind someone called 'Wingéd Eyeliner'?"

"That's how we do it here at Az. Everyone is equal, and the line-ups are in alphabetical order. That's our thing."

"That is the most ridiculous thing I've heard since hearing the band name of 'Wingéd Eyeliner'. You know that is a ludicrous business model, right? You will never get decent bands to play here."

"I believe we have Lemonade Mouth performing tonight."

"They are fulfilling a previous obligation that they had to cancel due to an emergency. Now, in reality, they were doing the music store a favor, too, by having an in-store signing. No one buys CD's anymore, and certainly not from brick-and-mortar stores. And definitely not this band's audience. And by the way, buying music isn't the only thing their fans do online. They talk to each other incessantly, about every blessed detail of this band. They will be more than happy to share their experience tonight, especially if they get a puny little unsatisfactory set from their favorite band. I know you think they're mealy-mouthed goody-two-shoes nerds who would never dream of speaking ill of anyone. And they pretty much are. But I am not. And most of their fans are not, either. You will be destroyed after they are done with you, and the members of the Lemonade Mouth will come out smelling like roses. So, maybe it's time that Az changes its policy and has a proper headliner."

The owner kept his composure, but it was clear that he was taking Ray's words in and considering them. He was silent for a couple of seconds, then said, "All right. They'll go last."

"HOLD IT THERE, buddy," said Ray. "They will not simply 'go last'. They will headline, which means that the other bands will have to cut their sets in half. And if any of the other bands goes so much as one second over their allotted time, I will hobble right onto the stage, crutches and all, and drag them off by their wingéd eyeliner myself."

The owner relented. "All right." And he went off to tell the other bands of the changes.

"Close your mouths, guys, you're gonna catch flies," Ray said to Stella, Scott, and Mr. Gifford.

"Raymond Beech, you've used your powers for good and not evil!" said Stella.

"I hauled myself all the way out here to make sure you didn't screw up my song. I wasn't about to have you not play it."

"Hmm, Scott, maybe we still shouldn't play it. I'm still thinking Dante's…" Stella winked at Scott when she said it.

"Stella Yamada, you'll play that song, or…"

"you'll haul me off by my wingéd eyeliner?"

"Maybe."

She turned away to get ready. Ray headed toward the floor of the club. "Oh no you don't, Mr. Manager!" said Mr. Gifford, smiling. "You're backstage with the band."

While the third band performed, the members of Lemonade Mouth stood backstage awaiting their turn. Stella loved to watch everyone's pre-performance rituals. Olivia sat on a stool, the top of her head against Wen's chest, taking slow and even breaths to keep from panicking. Wen kissed the top of her head repeatedly and brushed her hair with his fingers. This was his way of handling his own nerves. Charlie spun his drum sticks between his fingers. Mo and Scott perpetually tuned and re-tuned their guitars. Stella's own ritual was to watch over her friends and think happy thoughts about them.

Ray approached her from behind as she watched her friends. "No need to be nervous."

"I'm not nervous." But her hand was twitching feverishly. Ray reached down, and he took hold of her hand. Stella's heart exploded. "OK," he said into her ear. That ear immediately felt as if it were 200 degrees. She was sure it was bright red.

"Yamada?" he said into her ear.

"Yes?"

"Don't screw up my song." He leaned a little bit further forward, and he kissed her cheek. Stella's heart had already been on overdrive. At the feeling of Ray's lips on her cheek, everything inside of her melted down to her feet.

There was no denying how she felt about him anymore. Stella had completely fallen, irrevocably, for Ray Beech. She suspected that maybe he felt a little bit for her. But she assumed that it wasn't nearly as much.

Right now, however, she didn't have the time to think about that. It was time to focus on her performance. She turned to face Ray (oh God, those eyes! Calm down, Stella. Calm down.). She said, "Beech? I'm going to own it." And she gave him an enormous Cheshire cat grin.

Just then, they heard from on stage, "Give it up for….LEMONADE MOUTH!" And the house erupted in cheers and applause.

Stella hated to let go of Ray's hand, but it was time to go do her thing. This was the first time, however, that she looked forward to a performance being over. She was excited and nervous at the hope that there might be something to look forward to afterward.

Stella turned toward the stage. Ray gave her hand a squeeze and said, "Go get 'em, Killer!" Stella loved that he knew exactly what she was feeling right now…at least about performing. She smiled at him again, and she ran onto the stage.