Chapter Three: George

437 35 7
                                    

Trust Ringo to try and help out - he's really nice like that, and a lot of the time it's great. At certain times, however, his help isn't always required and would be better off somewhere else, but I'm not going to tell him that. I don't know what possessed him to do what he did or how he even accomplished it, but Ringo managed to find a solution to our problem.  

Ringo breezed into our little shared home later that afternoon. We had been beginning to wonder where he'd got to and even considered to go out searching for him. John had kept telling us not to get in such a flap over it but I could tell he was getting a bit nervous. We all jumped when the door suddenly swung open and a beaming Ringo charged in. He looked very self-satisfied. I cocked my head on one side and raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

"Hi guys!" he said cheerily. 

"Where have you been?" I asked.

"Oh, out." Ringo replied, completely nonchalant. He brushed his long fringe aside to reveal his bright blue eyes. They were glittering mischievously. This added to my curiosity and concern. I folded my arms across my chest and stuck my bottom lip out, trying to stare at him the way policemen on television did when they're about to interrogate someone.

"Why are you squinting like that, George?" John cried from his slumped position on the couch. "You look like a short sighted goldfish!"

I glared at him then turned back to Ringo. "I don't like that smile of yours, Richie. What have you done and will it get us in any kind of trouble?"

"No trouble at all!" Ringo said. His voice was unusually shrill and excited, and he was fidgeting like he badly needed to go to the toilet - clenching his hands into fists and taking odd mincing steps. "In fact I think you lot will want to thank me!"

"Thank you?" John scoffed. "You're part of the greatest band in the world! If you lot should be thanking anyone then it should be me!"

I, Paul, and Ringo all ignored him. Ringo turned to the still open front door. He stuck two fingers in his mouth and let out a loud, high-pitched whistle. The rest of us glanced worriedly at each other, wondering what on earth Ringo was about to let into the house and whether we should quickly take cover. To our complete astonishment we didn't need to.

"Lads," Ringo announced grandly. "Say hello to our new lady friends!"

Four young women filed into the room in height order - the tallest proudly leading and the shortest trailing in the rear. They were all dressed in matching short, grey, sleeveless dresses, white blouses, and elegant black high heels. Each girl had their long hair scraped back with a thick black headband, keeping their floppy fringes from falling in their eyes. The women lined up in the middle of the room, chins held high, confidence shining out from their pink-cheeked faces. They looked us up and down and started nudging each other and giggling softly. My jaw fell open. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. It was uncanny. It was bizarre. It was like looking into a mirror. 

These four giggling girls looked exactly like us!

One of middle height smiled broadly at us, her brown eyes glittering with happiness and mischief. She took two steps towards John (who was still flopped on the couch, a look of utter amazement stuck on his silly face) and looked at him closely, seizing his chin in her hand and examining it from all angles. She straightened herself, brushed her hair over her shoulder, and placed her hands on her curvy hips.

"You must be John!" she said brightly. "Pleased to meet you!"

She stuck out her right hand, obviously wanting John to shake it. He took it gingerly and shook, mumbling "How do you do?". He was still in a terrible state of shock, as were the rest of us.

"I'm Jodie." said the girl. She turned to the other three women. Their pink cheeks had become bright red by this time, and they were giggling and whispering nervously among themselves. Jodie reached out and took the hand of a slightly taller girl. She had dark brown hair and big brown doe-eyes that were framed by long eyelashes. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Paul staring up at her with great interest, one of his perfectly arched eyebrows raised.

"This is Polly." said Jodie. She gave Polly's arm a small shake, encouraging her friend to say something. Polly's face went as red as a tomato and she ducked her head, letting her hair conceal her like a curtain. Jodie sighed in exasperation, shaking her head apologetically at the rest of us. She pulled the shortest girl forward. "This is Rhiannon." 

Rhiannon's face flushed pink but she was a lot braver than poor Polly. She waved shyly at us, waggling her fingers and blinking with her soft blue eyes. She fiddled awkwardly with a loose strand of her hair, glancing anxiously at Ringo, willing him to say something. Ringo cottoned on and patted Rhiannon's shoulder sympathetically.

"So guys, what do you think?" he asked, smiling hopefully.

"Well..." John began, stroking his chin and taking in all of the girls. "I think we -"

"I think we should say yes!" Paul cried, leaping up and rushing over to Polly. He took her hand and kissed it lightly, practically oozing with charm. Polly blushed again and giggled, quite at a loss for words. 

John rolled his eyes and walked towards Jodie. His arm snaked out and wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her close. They started up a conversation about music and movie stars, seeming quite happy to witter on for hours. Ringo was talking to Rhiannon in a hushed tone, tenderly stroking her glossy brown hair, so they were happy too.

I glanced around the room, trying to figure out where the last girl had disappeared to. I spotted her skulking in a corner of the room, hiding behind her dark brown hair. Her arms were crossed in an "I don't want company" manner. Despite this I sidled up to her, beads of sweat forming on my forehead and trickling down my face. I hovered a few inches away from her for a moment, trying to think of something smooth to say. I didn't have to. The girl glared up at me, her beautiful brown eyes clearly showing anger and annoyance. 

"Can I help you?" she said rudely.

I was slightly taken aback by her tone of voice, but I wasn't going to let it faze me. "My name is George. I think you're the girl Ringo wants me to be with."

The girl's eyebrows shot up until they were hidden behind her fringe. She sniffed primly and held out her right hand. I took it in my own and shook hands as politely as I could. I could this girl was not pleased by any of this and wanted to leave as soon as possible.

"Uh..." I stammered. (Great start, George.) "What's your name?"

"Gina." she replied flatly. 

"That's a pretty name."

"Don't try and flatter me, Short Stack."

"Short?" I blinked at her. "We're the same height!"

"Nope." Gina stood up straight, instantly extending to her full height. She was a whole head taller than me, even after she'd kicked off her high heels. It made me feel very small and insignificant. I've always been the tallest. It was one of my special assets, and this Gina had snatched it away from me. She didn't care in the slightest. I decided I didn't like her and glared furiously in her direction.

"I can see you." Gina said, barely looking at me. She suddenly glanced up, a serious expression on her face. "Just so you know I'm only here because Jodie made me come. I care about my friends finding some dopey guys to fawn over, but I couldn't care less. Don't try and think you can get around me that easily, okay, Shorty?"

"Fine." I said, shrugging even though I was a boiling mess on the inside. Gina didn't want anything to do with me but, being the person I am, I can never resist a challenge. I was determined to get her to like me, and I didn't care what I had to do to achieve it.

The Gift of Girlsजहाँ कहानियाँ रहती हैं। अभी खोजें