[Agh! Sorry about taking forever and a day with this. But I hope you enjoy this next chapter…I can't make any promises that the next chapter will be up soon, but I'll try.

'Falling for You' belongs to Weezer. 'It Goes To Bed' is Rooney. 'Get Over It' is OK Go. 'So Happy Together' is property of The Turtles.

Meg Cabot owns everyone but Taylor, Andrew, Chris, Emily, and all groupies.]

Chapter 8: Rhymes With Jello

"How much longer till sound-check?" Mia murmured.

"Not long enough," I said, nuzzling her neck. "Who needs a sound-check anyway? I fully trust the club to make the sound all good. So I don't really need to go 'check' it, do I?"

She giggled and we kissed a bit more, ignoring Andrew's calls from outside the bus. But it was a little harder to ignore Emily when she pulled back the curtain on my bed, clearing her throat. "Taylor says, and I quote, "Get your diva ass out of the bus.' Unquote."

Mia sat up, flustered, and began to button her shirt, which had mysteriously come undone during the course of our kissing. We followed Emily out of the bus and she turned to me and said, "I don't think you're a diva, by the way. Just so you know."

She flashed me a smile and I risked a meaningful glance at Mia. But no, my lovely girlfriend was too busy humming. "If It Were Up To Me" was her song of choice, in fact. Which is sweet, I guess, but why is she so oblivious to the fact that her stupid giggly friend has the hots for me?

Who in their right mind would have the hots for me anyway? I mean, there's Mia…but she's known me since I was nine, and back in those days I would just randomly burst into song-and-dance routines. I was under the impression that it was cool.

In fact, I still think it is. But most of the world doesn't seem to agree with me. Anyway, it's only human for Mia to be attracted to me after seeing me bust a move to Livin' La Vida Loca. Move over, Ricky.

Man, I should talk to the rest of the guys about adding that little Latino number to our set list.

Haha. It's good that in these times of trouble I still have a sense of humor.

At the show that night in Virginia Beach, we played a new number I had penned the other day, titled 'Falling For You.'

Holy cow, I think I've got one here

Now just what am I s'posed to do?

I've got a number of irrational fears

That I'd like to show you

First there's rules about old goats like me

Hangin' around with chicks like you

But I do like you, and another one:

You say like too much

(Chorus)

But I'm shakin' at your touch

I like you way too much

My baby, I'm afraid I'm fallin' for you

I'd do 'bout anything to get the hell out alive

Or maybe I would rather settle down with you

Holy moly, baby, wouldn't you know it?

Just as I was bustin' loose

Rock star car

Get fat and old with you

'Cause I'm a burning candle, you're a gentle moth

Teachin' me to lick a little bit kinder

And I do like you, you're the lucky one

No, I'm the lucky one

(Chorus)

But I'm shakin' at your touch

I like you way too much

My baby, I'm afraid I'm fallin' for you

I'd do 'bout anything to get the hell out alive

Or maybe I would rather settle down with you

Holy sweet, goddamn, you left your cello in the basement

I admired the glowing stars and tried to play a tune

I can't believe how bad I sucked, it's true

What could you possibly see in

Little ole three-chord me?

But I do like you, and you like me too

I'm ready, let's do it, baby

(Chorus)

But I'm shakin' at your touch

I like you way too much

My baby, I'm afraid I'm fallin' for you

I'd do 'bout anything to get the hell out alive

Or maybe I would rather settle down with you

Down with you

The crowd erupted into cheers and I grinned, looking off to the side of the stage for Mia. But she wasn't there…just Emily. And she was leering at me, like….well, like some sort of leering thing.

And I didn't like it one bit.

After the show (we also played 'It Goes To Bed', 'Get Over It', and 'So Happy Together', among many others), the usual crowd of girls, and even a few embarrassed-looking boys, gathered around for pictures and autographs.

"Hey," someone said in my ear, placing a warm hand on my shoulder.

I turned, expecting to see Mia, but it was Emily instead. "Oh, um, hey," I said, starting to walk away.

But she held me back. "Can we talk…in private?"

Now, the last thing I wanted to do was talk privately with this girl, but for some idiotic reason I went along with her. Maybe it was the fact that I had promised Mia I would be nicer…I don't know.

She pulled me into the little dressing room and shut the door. "So…" I said nervously, stuffing my hands into my pockets.

"I play cello," she said suddenly, a grin creeping across her face.

"That's…nice," I said, not seeing the relevance. I started to leave, but she blocked the doorway.

"Of course, you probably already knew that. But I just wanted to say that I really, really liked that song you wrote for me."

I don't recall playing a song titled 'Giggly Skank with a Hidden Agenda'.

But then it all clicked…I mean, she has a crush on me, she felt the need to inform me that she was a cellist, and…well, we had played that song I wrote for Mia. 'Falling for You'.

Now, I'm well aware of the fact that Mia doesn't play cello. I don't even know what I was thinking! I remember eating lime Jello as I wrote, and trying to think of different thinks that rhymed with 'jello' for some unfathomable reason.

But in Emily's sick, twisted mind, I've written her a love song. Shit.

She wrapped her arms around my neck and smiled. "Don't worry, I won't tell, Mia. But maybe you shouldn't play songs that are obviously about me when she's nearby. I wouldn't mind hearing them in private, though…"

Before I could vomit in disgust, she pressed her lips to mine, and the urge to upchuck was only intensified.

"Michael? Where  are you? Omigod!"

I wrenched out of Emily's kung-fu grip to see a teary-eyed Mia staring at me in disbelief. "How could you?" she whispered hoarsely before running off.

No, no, no, no, no! Damn cellos. All of them. Damn them all to hell.

[You know what to do.]