I know Lemonade Mouth came out a while ago, but I re-watched it a few days ago and then I couldn't get this story idea out of my head. I hope you, my wonderful readers, enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! I'm thinking it will be a two-shot, but I'm not sure yet. It's up to you guys as my readers to tell me if you want to read more :)

Jar of Hope (Part 1)

The room was small and tidy and brightly colored with shelves of books lining the walls. She had one of those window seats, he noticed as he glanced at the pane that looked out over the sunny garden, he'd always wanted one of those. An acoustic guitar sat in the corner of her bedroom, piles of sheet music littering the floor around it. Her bed was large, the frame a vintage looking thing with twisting metal and white paint. He gave a barely distinguishable shake of the head, trying to rid his mind of the, erm, impure thoughts that flashed through his brain when he looked at the simple piece of furniture. His mouth felt dry as he romanticized about her. In the bed. With him.

No. He forced the notion out of his mind before it went any further. Nothing would happen between them. It couldn't.

"This is cool," he commented, clearing his throat and motioning to a jar filled with tiny paper stars that sat atop one of the many bookshelves littering the wall. Her smile was small, reminiscent, as she picked up.

"They're Japanese wishing stars," she told him, plucking one of the tiny white paper stars out of the jar and beginning to gently unravel it, "I write wishes and thoughts on them, then put them in the jar. It's my jar of hope."

He looked down at the now unraveled piece of paper between her fingers, the words I wish that life wasn't so difficult scrawled across it in neat, twisting handwriting.

"Why are you here?" she asked him with narrow eyes, a tone harsher than he knew she meant it to come out. This wasn't easy for her.

Wen looked at her trying to figure out what to say.

"I was worried," he said weakly, a light smile splaying across his face, though it seemed forced and phony given the circumstances.

She snorted, quite an unladylike thing, and turned her back to the ginger haired boy. Wen took a step more into the doorway, gently shutting the door behind him. Her Gran trusted them, trusted Wen.

He wanted to reach out to her and take her in his arms. He wanted to tell her that everything was okay. He wanted to kiss her until she would believe that maybe, just maybe the universe wasn't out to get her after all.

"Olivia," Wen started, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder. She shrugged him off before his fingertips even made contact, turning her body even farther away from him and trying to hide the tears he knew were there.

Wen couldn't stand to see her like this. He loved her smile. He loved the way the sunlight hit her hair in the afternoon. He loved the empowered look in her eyes when she was up on stage, just her and the music. He loved her compassion and her humor. He loved everything about her.

But he hated to see her cry.

This time she didn't resist when he pulled her toward him and spun her around into his arms. She was crying, hands balled up into fists that were locked up against his chest, his arms circling around her.

"Shhh," he soothed, rubbing warm, lazy circles along her back as her head collapsed against his grey t-shirt covered chest.

"H-He r-ruined the s-show," Olivia stammered, voice muffled by Wen's body pressed closely against hers, "And n-now, you guys won't e-ever want me in the b-band again."

Wen pulled back slightly, gazing at the beautiful blonde girl in front of him. Tear stains ran in little rivers down her cheeks, her eyes red and puffy from crying. Wen took his thumb and gently wiped the tears off of her face, fingertips lingering so that his hand was splayed out, caressing her face.

"How can you think that?" Wen questioned her, voice soft and kindhearted, "Lemonade Mouth isn't going to kick you out because your father made an ass of himself at one gig."

Olivia's gaze left his and shifted to her feet, self-consciously, mumbling, "You honestly think that?"

"Honestly," he replied, placing a finger underneath her chin and lifting her face so her eyes met his, "We need you."

She looked at him, soft smile playing at the corners of her mouth. His thumb brushed across her lips tenderly as he added in a soft murmur, "I need you."

"Wen," Olivia started, but before she could finish, his lips were on hers. Wen felt Olivia resist at first, but after a few moments, she relaxed against him, relinquishing herself to the kiss.

His hands had a mind of their own, one reaching up into her sweet smelling hair, the other wrapping tighter around her waist and pulling her closer into him.

Wen pulled away reluctantly after a few moments and let his forehead rest against hers. His breathing was shallow and heavy, coming out in short huffs against her face as they gazed at each other, her breathing matching his.

"Olivia," he started when suddenly, her lips were on his again, though this time she was the one initiating it. The kiss itself was much more passionate than the last, and Their lips were caught in a battle of dominance, zealously moving against each other's as if the other was about to disappear any second. Wen tried to make it deep and meaningful, trying to convey all the unsaid things to her: his love, his understanding, his forgiveness. Olivia's hands were everywhere, in his red hair, sliding down his chest, inching underneath the worn gray fabric of his t-shirt towards the hem of his jeans.

Wen pushed her against the bed and toppled over her, their lips never once separating. Olivia's legs wrapped around his waist and Wen felt a small pair of hands pop the button of his jeans open and start to slowly pull down the zipper. His hands tugged at the hem of her shirt, beginning to lift it up over her head when-

"Ehm," A loud voice came from behind them and Wen and Olivia quickly hopped off the bed, trying to pretend like they hadn't just been doing what they were doing.

"Gram," Olivia squeaked, her voice tiny and high-pitched with shock. She attempted to tame her hair as she looked sheepishly at the elderly woman standing under the doorframe holding pitcher of lemonade and tray of cookies, "Hi. What a surprise. Wen was just showing me-"

Gram cut Olivia off, "I'm perfectly aware of what he was showing you," she replied coolly as the blonde girl blushed a deep crimson.

Gram turned her attention to Wen, "I think you ought to leave, Wendell."

He looked down at his feet shamefully, his ears turning a bright scarlet that rivaled the color of his fiery hair, before he quickly made his way out into the hallway. He bent his head downward to avoid Gram's gaze, though he thought he saw the older woman give a hint of a smile.

He heard hints of a conversation once Gram closed the door behind him. Snippets of Olivia's voice saying "I swear it's the first time" and "you can't blame him" rose from within the walls. Wen looked down and quickly buttoned and zipped his jeans before someone walked in on him eavesdropping.

A sudden shrill voice sounded from the door, "Wendell, I know you're still out there. You better be out of my house before I tell your father about this."

And with that, Wen took off out of the house and tore down the street back to his.

So? Did you like it? Love it? Hate it? Want to tear it up and burn it in a fit of rage because it was so bad? Let me know with a review! I'm going to try to post the next part sometime within the next week, so keep an eye out for it! :)

-lumosinthedark