A Lemonade Mouth fanfiction

By Its Ella Inspired

A re-write

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Accidently on purpose

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There were a lot of things Ray Beech didn't mean to do, but did.

Having a very heated argument with his dad happened to be one of those things.

Ray growled in agitation as he paced the small stretch of lawn in front of the park bench, the conversation going over and over in his head like a tide:

"I want all this band stuff to stop."

"What the hell for?"

"It's a distraction Raymond, you don't need that now. I need you focused on running the family business and not spending your time on a stage wearing a shirt with your face on it."

"You can't decide that for me, I don't even want to run the company."

"That's not your decision!"

"Oh, and it's yours?"

The conversation, already bad from the start kept getting worse as it progressed and ended with various broken objects and many cursed words. In the end, Mrs. Beech had thrown both the males out of the house, lamenting the loss of her prized Ming China that was thrown sometime during the 'discussion'.

Rubbing his open palm against his temple, the blonde soccer player continued to pace like an enraged animal in its cage.

He hadn't wanted to tell his father this, but Mudslide Crush was already on the chopping block.

Even though Scott was once again his friend and the competition between them and the Lemon Heads were popularized by their back-to-back performances at Dante's Pizzeria; his other band-mates were seniors and spent most of their afternoons doing extra credit and because he was already given the title of Captain of the soccer team, he and Scott were constantly on the pitch prepping for upcoming tournaments.

Mudslide Crush was still far from completely disbanding but with other things taking priority, there was little hope that the band would out-last Lemonade Mouth. Not that anyone really knew apart from the band itself.

And it would stay that way until he could talk his father out of shoving the family business down his throat. Though with the way their 'discussions' were going, it was likely that Ray would have to concede if only to protect what was left of his mother's porcelain figurines.

"Why in the hell can't that man just leave me alone?" He demanded to himself, stubbornly kicking a random rock in his path.

Ray Beech did a lot of things he didn't mean to do, but did anyway.

Kicking an unfortunate bystander with a rock happened to be one of them.

"Oh shit!"

The person was bent over, clutching her stomach and evidently crying.

"Crap, I'm sorry; geez I didn't mean to," Ray rambled, feeling guilt hit him at full force even as he squatted down beside her and placed an arm around her in comfort, "Can you get up? What hurts? You didn't break anything did you? Oh shit, you did, didn't you? I should get you to the hospital or something."

As if the conversation with his father hadn't already put him off the day entirely, now he was rambling like an idiot on meth.

"No, no I'm fine. It doesn't hurt that much, don't worry about me." Her sob drenched words held no comfort for the front-man as he could feel the salty tears hitting his chest as he held her.

"How could I not? That rock flew right at you!"

"I didn't even see it."

He snorted slightly. "I kind of noticed."

The slight chuckle managed to gargle out of her throat as he helped her up, an arm still wrapped around her waist for support in fear that if he released her she'd tumble to the ground and break like the many broken ornaments his mother owned.

"Listen I'm really sorry."

Her bronze colored hair swayed as she shook her head, her face still downcast and still dripping with tears. "It's okay…"

"I'm not going to believe you until you look me in the eye and tell me you're fine," he stated, put off by the roughness of a voice coming from such a petite girl.

Frankly anything associated with hard or calloused was considered alien as he held her; everything from her smooth light caramel skin to her delicate stature to the sheer white dress that she wore screamed all things sweet and fragile. If his mother was here at this moment, she'd probably throw him out again in fear that he would break the poor thing.

And she'd have every good reason to.

"Are you still crying?" Ray asked as a small silence filled the small amount of space between them.

"No…" she tried to sniff discretely but failed.

He rolled his eyes slightly and brushed the back of his hand against her cheek, feeling the moisture move almost gracefully from the smooth turn of her cheek onto the back of his palm. "Hey come on now, you're making me feel really bad here. Are you sure you don't want me to take you to a hospital or something, get you checked out?"

Another chuckle gargled from her throat, her lightly fragranced hair whispering against his cheek as she shook her head. "No I'm sure I'm fine, it didn't even hurt that much."

"Uh huh, and my name's Betty Lu."

A stronger laugh managed to escape her as she seemed to force herself away from the cause of her tears, but when she finally looked up to meet his gaze, the laugh died on her lips while a breath as sharp as a knife touched his.

"Ray?"

Ray Beech didn't mean to do a lot of things, finding Stella Yamada attractive was one of them.

The usually outspoken, loudmouthed, revolutionary rockstar was now the epitome of what he would label the exact opposite of what she actually was: Delicate and untouched; a fragile beauty.

This girl before him with the dark amber colored eyes, enhanced by the lingering shine of her tears looked nothing like the girl who stood up on the bleachers on her first day of school and gave a speech about t-shirts.

This girl before him with the full head of bronzed hair, with no streaks in sight; looked nothing like the girl who spit lemonade at him that day she first spoke to him.

This girl before him with the quivering salmon pink lips, looking oh so kissable and tempting looked nothing like the girl who performed fearlessly on the stage at the Halloween Bash.

But this girl wearing white, looking breakable and nothing like the guitar goddess he had come to know and verbally spar with looked rather like the girl on the stage of Rising Star, looking disheartened and beaten.

Ray hated this sight of her.

And that had nothing to do with the fact that her attractiveness was now plainly displayed before him and not distracted by an attitude as loud as her guitar amp.

Despite the surprise the blonde soccer player felt, he reached a hand again to wipe her cheek of what remained of her water works and said almost absent mindedly, "Don't tell my mom I said that, she always wanted a girl and I don't want to get her hopes up."

Although Stella was still in complete disbelief somehow another laugh managed to pass her lips.

"On the condition that we don't speak about me crying," she said, pressing a hand against his chest to push him away from her personal space.

"Oh you were crying?" Ray asked innocently as he too began to pull away slightly but only enough that he was no longer inhaling the breaths of mint she released with each exhale. "I had no idea, tell me more."

The smile came easily as she thumped him slightly with the hand she clutched at his shirt. "Shut up. Betty Lu."

He rolled his eyes and found himself wiping the last tear off her chin before meeting her eyes and asking softly, "Are you sure I didn't hurt you?"

A light blush blossomed on her cheeks, her eyes seeming to light up even more. "Yeah, I'm fine. It wasn't because of that rock you aimed at me that I was crying."

"Contrary to your belief I wasn't aiming it at you, it kind of just happened," he said, almost awkwardly, running a hand through his hair.

"Do I sense anger issues?" Stella asked with a cocked brow, "Does someone need a happy meal?"

"According to my mom, I need a hobby that doesn't involve breaking pottery and according to my dad, I need a hobby that doesn't involve me on a stage wearing a t-shirt with my face on it."

"Ah, family issues, I understand," she said almost approvingly, nodding her head in agreement. "Then Betty Lu and I are on the same boat."

Ray snorted; his slung arm around her shoulders still in place as the two walked towards the wooden bench he abandoned. "What, you decided to have another t-shirt speech at a wedding or something?"

"Something along those lines," Stella answered as they took a seat together under the shade of the tree. "I was at a family reunion."

"And you gave them another of your signature revolutionary speeches?"

"Something like that." She paused as if to figure out whether to tell him anything or not. Ray did nothing to prompt her to continue, but didn't completely shut her down. His arm was still slung around her shoulders like a protective shield.

A lone breeze fluttered by as a sigh escaped her.

"My family doesn't really get my whole rockstar thing, I mean, first I'm not a genius like the rest of them and now I'm playing the guitar on TV? Almost gave my uncle a heart-attack," Stella claimed with a chuckle.

"So what, they're trying to stop you from performing or something?"

"Not entirely. They don't see my dream as being real you know? They pretty much think I might as well be playing as a fairy."

"Get me some glitter and we'll work on it," he piqued getting her to shove him again but this time using her shoulder, a smile at the corner of her lips as he chuckled. "What about your parents?"

"They're proud of me no matter what, I know that. But I also know that a part of them wants to believe this is just a phase."

"Huh, then we really are on the same boat."

"Yeah, but unlike you I don't wear t-shirts with my face on them and I also didn't break valuable things," she stated getting him to raise a brow at her.

"Oh really?

Sheepishly, Stella scratched her chin with her index finger. "Uh, how expensive is a chandler?"

Ray laughed. "Pretty expensive."

"Oh…well then, I win."

"I didn't realize it was a competition," he said in amusement getting her to send him a look crossed between innocence and mischief.

"Well you got to give me some credit; I just survived being stoned by an angry blonde with identity issues!"

"Hey, it was one stone and it was by mistake," Ray defended, "and I did make it better didn't I? You aren't crying anymore and you aren't acting like an angst emo kid are you?"

"No, but that doesn't excuse the fact that you hit a girl."

He rolled his eyes at her. "Alright fine, what's it gonna take?"

Ray Beech did a lot of things he normally didn't mean to do, going on a date with Stella Yamada happened to be one of those things.

In his defense, he hadn't realized until the person behind the counter of the ice-cream parlor winked and said, "Lovers' special today, everything half-off for couples."

What surprised him even more was the fact that Stella, after the initial blush and stutter, had gathered her wits together, smiled confidently and said, "We'll take it."

If he was thinking about saying anything otherwise, it didn't leave his mind and instead he choose to coolly ask, "What flavors do you have?"

And that's when Ray was suddenly thanking this surprise blindside that not only got him a date with Stella but also half-price off of the most amazing ice-cream buffet he'd ever seen. Though with the way the half-Asian teenager was going through the table, Ray found that he was going to pay full price.

"So let me guess, I'm paying for all of this?"

"Oh yeah, definitely," she answered as she continued to scoop up different variations of chocolate ice-cream.

"I'm pretty sure this is called blackmail," Ray said as he walked beside her, filling his plate with all the necessities needed to eat ice-cream such as the wafer sticks, the candy canes, little bowls of hundreds and thousands as well as different squirt bottles of strawberry, vanilla and toffee hot sauces.

"Funny this is me not caring," Stella said with the cheerful vivaciousness he expected from her.

And no, the fact that he was indulging in her ice-cream overload had nothing to do with the fact that the Stella Yamada he was used to was both alive and hungry.

"Just a little bit more," she muttered to herself as she looked around the table at any chocolate flavor she happened to miss. Ray took one look at the giant bowl she picked out and filled to the brim before grabbing it and holding it high over his head.

"Oh no you don't, we're done with the ice-cream."

Stella pouted. "You're no fun."

"I'm not made of money," he reminded, leading her by the elbow to a table out on the veranda of the ice-cream parlor.

"Well you offered, and no normal person turns down free food," she stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Except if they offer it from inside a van."

"Ha-ha, you're hilarious," Stella deadpanned as she sat down across from him. "Isn't it considered rude to insult your date?"

"Isn't it rude to completely finish your date's allowance?"

"Touché, so all is fair?"

He offered her one of the spoons he'd grabbed from the counter at the buffet. "You have an odd way of saying you didn't mean to."

"That's because I did," she informed him with a grin, already stabbing the mountain of chocolate ice-cream and having a quick lick of it before groaning in pleasure. "Holy mother, this is amazing!"

"Mm," he nodded in agreement after having a taste for himself, "It needs something though."

"Huh, so great minds do think alike," Stella noted with a smile as both teenagers grabbed various pieces of candy to add to their frozen chocolate wonderland.

He smirked. "Of course, I don't just ask anyone out you know."

"Well you do when you want half-off ice-cream."

"Stella, shut up and eat."

If there were a few things that Ray didn't mean to do but ended up doing anyway, hanging out on a swing-set beside his verbal sparring partner as if it were the first day in kindergarten happened to be one of them.

"So what exactly happened with you?" Stella asked as she swung back and forth on the wooden seat of her swing. "I mean, you must've been pretty pissed with your dad to break stuff. I've seen you pissed at me and I don't think you've ever broken anything."

"That's because when I'm pissed at you, I take it out on everyone else," he informed.

"Aw, so you won't hurt me? How sweet," she said as they swung past each other. "Next time, forgo it. I might be able to get more ice-cream out of you."

He snorted. "If you really want to know, my dad wanted me to give up Mudslide Crush so I can focus on the family business."

"And that's an issue?" she asked, "Didn't you say that with your busy schedule that Mudslide Crush might not be as strong as it used to?"

"Well yeah, but I don't want to give it up just because my dad said so. What exactly does that say about me?"

"Hmm," Stella swung higher. "Do you want to be in the family business?"

"Not really, that's more my little brother's thing," he said, swinging up to meet her. "I've hated the prospect of taking over it one day, it's like the only reason my dad bothers being around me."

The occasional groan from the old swing-set was the only thing they heard for a while until Ray asked, "And you, what exactly forced tears out of the impenetrable Stella Yamada?"

"The fact that maybe I'm really not good enough," she said in a breath as her swing slowed.

"Did your family say that?"

"Pretty much, they think being a rockstar is nothing compared to being a doctor or an engineer or a scientist. They kept telling me that I may be able to rock a stage but that's nothing compared to saving lives and making a difference, and maybe they're right. The problem is; I'm not good at any of that stuff."

"You? Not good at saving lives and making a difference? Are you high or something?"

She looked up at him, his swing at a much higher altitude then hers. "Compared to me, you're much higher."

Ray rolled his eyes at her, forcing his legs stationary until his swing slowly came to a stop beside hers. "You save lives Yamada, you might not know it but you do. Do you know that they use your music for those websites that counsels suicidal teenagers? You've helped a lot of them."

"How do you know that?"

The blonde front-man shrugged. "I always do my homework on my competition."

Stella shook her head, a bemused smile tugging at her lips but Ray wasn't finished yet. "And as for making a difference, well you've already seen first-hand what your music did for Mesa High, who's to say the same thing isn't happening everywhere else your music reaches?"

The swing-set creaked for a moment as the two teenagers sat side-by-side.

"You know, you're oddly good at pep-talks for a school bully."

"Is that a compliment I'm hearing?" He teased getting her to laugh. "It's only because you were a good sport and let me eat most of the ice-cream."

"Hey, that's what a good date does."

She shook her head at him, as she found herself leaning against the chain of her swing closest to him. "Thanks Ray, for today…you know, minus the minor injury and the crying."

"No problem," he said, leaning against his swing the same way she did. "Just do me a favor."

Her brow rose enquiringly. "And that would be?"

"Don't show up at that ice-cream parlor without me or the owner might just sue," he said getting her melodic laugh to fill the small distance that separated them. "And don't tell anyone about that whole rock kicking incident or people or going to label me as an abusive date."

"Sure Ray, whatever you want."

The distance between them was so minimal that they were practically breathing each other's air.

"Okay, then one more thing?"

There were a lot of things Ray Beech didn't mean to happen, but did.

Kissing Stella was one of them.

FINIS