Take a sad song and make it better

Chapter Three

Just as John was sitting down with Cyn and Stu at their usual lunch table, John spied two teddy boys in school uniform, their hair piled up in high quiffs with guitars strapped to their backs making their way through the crowd of art students to the table where John, Cyn and Stu now sat. Paul took a seat next to John and George sat on the other side of the table next to Cynthia and across from Paul.

“Alright who let these two fuckin’ twats in here?” John said with a smile as he looked from George over to Paul. John felt his heart speed up as he let his eyes rest upon Paul and his smiling face, so he quickly moved his gaze back to George.

“No one let us in Johnny boy, had to fight our way in. Your fellow arty people fought valiantly but me and Paulie pummelled ‘em. Ain't that right Paul.” George said seriously, Cyn and John laughed - Stu had completely zoned out, immersed in his drawing - Paul nodded his head,

“Not a word of lie Johnny, you will probably want to spend some time collecting your dead from the hallway before class, ‘cause otherwise all you arty fuckers are gonna have a bit of trouble getting to class.” Paul said and nudged John in the ribs with his sharp elbow while smirking at George.

“You two better stop killing at the kids around here or you shant be invited back.” John warned, using his posh voice, as he looked out the corner of his eye at Paul's smiling face. Jesus. Why did he have to look so good when he did that?

“Sorry Johnny boy, we shall try and rectify our behaviour. Won’t we Georgie?” Paul said, George nodded his head vigorously

“Of course Paul, we do apologise most sincerely Lennon.” said George as he moved to sit on the table top and pulled his guitar around to his front and began to play.

“Alright then, I suppose i’ll let it slide. Hey Paulie, Cyn said you looked like a bird today in lettering class. I wouldn't take that mate.” said John, trying to make himself seem at ease around Paul. Cyn nearly chocked on her coke as she laughed at the hurt look on Paul's face.

“Cynthia. Cyn, Cynny me lass. Tell me it isn’t so!” He begged, putting on a thick Irish accent.

“I’m sorry Paul luv, I’m afraid it’s true. But John said you had crazy eyes, so really its him you should be mad at!” Cynthia said with a chuckle.

“JOHN. The treachery. My eyes are often a popular topic but crazy is never an adjective thrown around in those conversations! Hauntingly beautiful is a popular phrase though, try that one next time you two are gossiping about me.” Paul said winking at John. John felt heat flood his cheeks after Paul's wink, and tried once again to shift the topic to someone else other than Paul.

“Paulie, I think you will find the real travesty of mine and our beloved Cynthia's chit chat to be on Cyn's part. She said and I quote: ‘George on the other hand now he has a touch of the crazy eyes…’ Our poor little innocent George being victimised by big bad Cynthia. A real travesty that is.” John said in mock sorrow. Paul played along and moved to sit on the table next to George who was trying to look sad and serious- and hugged Georges head to his chest in comfort.

“It’s okay Georgie, you're not crazy, just misunderstood.” Paul said as if he were a mother talking to her child. John noticed something other than amusement pass over Georges face for a split second… something that looked to John like fear or shame. Paul continued to hug Georges head and talk to Cyn

“You should be ashamed Cynthia! Our Georgie is a good boy deep down! Head butts one kid and he’s crazy, oh what a world.” Cyn laughed at Paul's antics and stuttered out an  apology to George in between her giggling.

“That's alright Cyn, I'm sure I do have a touch of the crazy in me…” George said in a slightly more sad than amused tone. As Paul moved back to John's side John made a mental note to find out what was wrong with George, maybe Paul would know…