“Eighty thousand thirteen,” Mimi proclaimed.
“Eighty thousand thirteen?” Lark repeated, flipping the pages of her math book. “Is that the answer to the division problem, or the word problem?”
Mimi giggled. “Neither. It’s the answer to: How many likes has ‘Homesick’ gotten since I posted it on YouTube?” She turned her laptop screen so Lark could see it. Sure enough, there was the enigmatic, mysterious Songbird, floating on a raft in the Campbells’ swimming pool, singing happily in the sunshine. “Look at all the comments!” Mimi gushed. “Eight hundred and twelve!”
The number was fairly staggering, Lark had to admit. And a bit nauseating, too. Lark’s natural shyness made her want to avoid fame at all costs.
“We’re supposed to be studying for our math test,” she said, hoping to shift Mimi’s focus. “I know we’ve been on break for two weeks, but you do remember what studying is, don’t you?”
“This is studying,” Mimi countered. “I’m studying to be a world-renowned filmmaker.”
“And what about the ten zillion questions you asked me about Ollie and the band before we started?” Lark teased. “Was that you being a filmmaker, too?”
“No, that was me being a girl with a crush.” Mimi grinned, owning it. “And since you’ve brought him up again … I can’t believe Ollie got back yesterday and I still haven’t laid eyes on that beautiful boy. Hey, do you think he’d let me make a documentary about him?” She furrowed her brow in thought. “I can call it A Day in the Life of Britain’s Most Gorgeous Pop Star.”
Lark laughed, because she knew this documentary, if it ever happened, would just be an excuse for Mimi to follow Ollie around for twenty-four hours straight, her camera ready to capture his every action—from rehearsing his dance steps to trimming his fingernails.
“Even if Ollie would let you, you know you’d have to get permission from a higher authority.”
“Right. Your mom.”
“It’s not that it isn’t a great idea,” Lark added quickly. “But the boys are majorly booked up right now. Poor Teddy. He can’t even find time to study.”
Mimi let out a long sigh. “Is he dating anyone?”
Lark’s heart sank. “Teddy? Dating? Who would he be dating?”
“Not Teddy … Oliver,” Mimi clarified. “Did he mention going on any dates while he was back in London? Maybe he went out with that nasty Jade girl who came between him and Aidan?”
“No, he didn’t mention dating Jade or anyone else,” Lark assured her gently. She knew that Mimi believed she was in love with Ollie. But she also knew that while Ollie was fond of Mimi, at nearly sixteen he was much too old for her.
Satisfied that Ollie’s heart had not been stolen over Christmas, Mimi smiled. “Good. So we can get back to the topic at hand.”
“Math?”
“Movies! I’ve been comparing our work to that of all the other seventh-grade-director-slash-songwriter partnerships out there, and guess what. There aren’t any! Which means we’re completely original!”
“Or completely crazy,” Lark muttered. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe the reason there aren’t any other seventh graders making music videos is because they’re all too busy doing their homework?”
“Nope. Never occurred to me at all. What did occur to me is that we should make another one!”
Lark nearly dropped her textbook. “What?!”
“You’re a sensation,” Mimi reasoned, undaunted. “The fans want more. And you have a new song, so what are we waiting for?”
“We’re waiting for me to decide if I want to be a performer, that’s what,” Lark reminded her. “And for the record, I don’t see that happening anytime soon.”
“But you won’t be on a stage,” Mimi pointed out, sliding the laptop closer to Lark. “You’ll be on the Internet. There’s a huge difference.”
“Not to me there isn’t. Now, can we please get back to our math?”
“Not until you check out the amazing stuff people have been writing about you.”
Reluctantly, Lark squinted at the computer screen and began to read the comments:
I LOVE LOVE LOVE this song! Homesick is totes awesome.
SO YOUNG, SO TALENTED, SO COOL! Go Songbird!!!!!!
WHO IS SHE? WHEN IS SHE TOURING?
Some of the comments were just long lists of emoji—clapping hands, hearts, smiley faces, and guitars. One fan even invited Songbird to play at her sweet sixteen birthday party.
“Don’t tell me this doesn’t make you proud,” said Mimi with a grin. “I’d kill for a single comment complimenting the creative camera angles.”
“Of course I’m flattered that people like it,” Lark conceded, scrolling down through the comments. “But what about the people who don’t? Look … someone typed in, like, fifteen thumbs-down emoji. And this person calls me ‘A NOBUDDY in uglee boots’? And what about this person, GlitzyGirlFluffyFace? She says, ‘Put Songbird back in her cage and lock the door, ASAP!’ ”
Mimi rolled her eyes. “Do you really care what someone who calls herself GlitzyGirlFluffyFace thinks? Please!”
“It’s mean.”
“Yes, it is,” Mimi agreed. “But think about it: of all those eight hundred and twelve comments, you’ve only found three nasty ones. So that’s only …” She picked up her smartphone, called up the calculator, and tapped in the numbers. “Point zero zero three six nine percent negative.” She quirked an eyebrow at Lark. “You have a less than one percentage of haters. How’s that for math?”
Lark had to laugh. Mimi was right—GlitzyFluffy-What’s-Her-Face was just a mean-spirited stranger and there was no reason to care what she thought, especially since the overwhelming majority of viewers had enjoyed what Lark and Mimi had created.
“But what if it’s a fluke?” asked Lark, not realizing how much she hoped it wasn’t until she’d actually spoken the words out loud.
“If it is, there’s only one way to find out.” Mimi shrugged. “If we post a second video and it does as well as or better than ‘Homesick,’ then it’s not a fluke.”
“Then what?” Lark asked warily.
“Then you have to tell your mother. About both of them.”
Lark frowned. “You drive a hard bargain, Mimi Solis.”
“What can I say?” Mimi tossed her hair in an exaggerated gesture of faux arrogance. “I’m a creative genius and a shrewd businesswoman!”
Lark hadn’t brought her guitar along to do her math homework, but Mimi said it wasn’t a problem; they could dub in the music later on. For now, Lark would just sing “Everything’s Working Out” a cappella.
“Okay, so I’m thinking that we should just have fun with it,” Mimi said, in director mode. “The song’s about being carefree—so let’s try to capture that in your actions, too.”
First Lark skateboarded around Mimi’s driveway, wobbling and tottering and laughing as she sang the lyrics, “Life’s a crazy ride, but time is on my side … I know I’ll reach my goal, ’cause that’s just how I roll.”
Next, they went to the backyard and Mimi had Lark jump on the trampoline, shooting her from below to give the illusion that Lark was flying—the perfect image for the upbeat mood of the song.
There was a bit of a glitch when Mimi’s little sister, Lola, arrived home from school with her two best friends from third grade, Casey and Jane. Lola demanded that Mimi and Lark vacate the backyard immediately so she and her friends could practice cartwheels and handstands.
“We were here first,” said Mimi.
“Well, we were here second.”
“I’m older.”
“I’m younger!”
Lark knew this would get them nowhere, but she’d spent enough time at Mimi’s house to understand that this was the kind of ridiculous argument that could only happen between siblings. Mrs. Solis came outside and refereed the shouting match. It was so long and so loud that Mr. Solis, who was working in his home office, threw open the window and provided backup for his wife from the second floor.
Ultimately, the decision went in Mimi’s favor, and Lola and her friends were sent next door to practice their cartwheels in Casey’s yard, which, as Lola observed snippily, was “way flatter and shadier” than the Solises’, making it far better for gymnastics anyway.
Lark witnessed the entire hullabaloo in wonder, and with a twinge of jealousy. Watching Mr. and Mrs. Solis work as a team to keep their daughters from tearing each other’s hair out had made her miss the days when her own mother and father had enjoyed a similar kind of partnership.
“I’ll make it up to her by filming one of her gymnastics competitions,” Mimi told Lark.
Lark smiled. “You’re a good big sister.”
“But I’m an even better filmmaker! So let’s get back to work!”
Under Mimi’s direction, Lark hula-hooped, cartwheeled, and climbed a tree, all while singing her new song.
When they were finished, Mimi was thrilled with the footage. “My new software will make it really easy to add the music,” she explained. “We’ll have to schedule a recording session soon. Check your calendar, and we’ll set something up.”
Lark smiled. “You sound like a real-life music mogul,” she teased, just as her phone sounded in her pocket. The ring tone was the one she’d assigned to incoming calls from her mother: the Garth Brooks hit “Mom.”
“Speaking of real-life music moguls …,” she said, laughing as she slid her finger over the answer bar and brought the phone to her ear. “Hey, Mom. What’s up?”
Lark listened for less than a second, then let out a shriek of joy. Mimi, who was viewing the video again, nearly jumped out of her skin.
“What was that about?” she asked, when Lark finally ended the call.
“My mom just told me my dad’s coming to LA,” Lark reported excitedly, “to play backup guitar for the Hatfields this Saturday night. He got us two tickets.”
“That’s awesome,” said Mimi. “Especially since you didn’t get to see him for Christmas.”
Lark sighed. “It is, except in true Donna Campbell form, my mom’s already arranged a business dinner for that night, which she absolutely can’t cancel.”
“That’s too bad,” said Mimi.
Lark’s eyes sparkled. “Not really. You can come in her place. It’ll be our first concert!”
Mimi opened her mouth to respond, but Lark held up her hands. “I know what you’re going to say: you have no idea who the Hatfields are, but I promise you’ll love them. They’re a huge country band. We’ll have so much fun! We can even go backstage after the show.”
“I’d love that,” said Mimi. “But it’s my cousin Gabriella’s quinceañera that night. I’ve promised to film the whole event, as my birthday gift to her.”
“Oh,” said Lark. “Well, that sounds awesome, too. Wish Gabriella happy birthday for me.”
“I have an idea who you can ask instead,” said Mimi, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.
“Forget it,” said Lark. “It would be too weird!”
Mimi laughed. “You say weird, I say romantic.”