This Boy - Mclennon

Chapter 3: Got to Get You Into My Life

~John's~

"John! Wake up, luv!"

...

"John Lennon, wake up love!"

...

"JOHN WINSTON LENNON! UP!"

I jumped up, finally. "M'comin, Mimi!!!" I shouted toward my door. I stretched and groaned loudly, not wanting to get out of my warm bed. I did not want to go to school today. I did not want to see Paul. I made my way down the stairs, putting my glasses on just before Mimi could tell me to do so. "Good morning, sleeping beauty." Mimi joked as she placed a cup of tea and a plate with toast and an egg on it. "Wow Mimi, thank ye', trust ye' sleep well, then?" I laughed, shovelling the food into my mouth. "Don't forget to chew, John." Mimi sat down across from me and began to read the news paper. "Thanks again, Mimi, I'm off!" I stood and headed out for school.

I took the long way to school. For two reasons: One, I needed cigarettes. Two, I was avoiding Paul's route. I didn't feel like talking to him. I mean, I did feel like talking to him. I just didn't feel like being blown off by him again. Paul had a tendency to walk away in the middle of a conversation, so it seemed.

I opened my new pack of cigarettes and lit one immediately. "Aye! Got one for us mate?" I heard from behind me. I swear to God, if one more little prick asks me for a god damn-- "John!" I spun around. "Harrison, here y'are son." I rolled my eyes and sighed as I handed him a cigarette. We began walking again, silent for a few moments. "M'sorry 'bout Paul, mate." George broke the silence. "What? Why in the hell are you sorry for Paul?" I asked. Paul. The name rang in my head for a few moments. "Well, I know yer just tryna help the git but he's been brushin' ye off. He may not speak much but he speaks to me." George admitted. So, Paul McCartney was talking about me, eh? "Nah, son, I couldn't care less. Just wanted t'make sure the kid was alright." I lied, I cared.

I cared so much.

"Just so y'know, he does feel bad. Just imagine the position he's in right now though... right? He talks about you all the time. He's not used to people y'know... caring about him." George mumbled. "Don't be soft." I laughed and flicked my cigarette. "M'not! That bloody kid has a brother who cares about him, and me. Now all of a sudden he's got some random bloke bending over backwards for him? E's not used t'it mate." George stopped in his tracks, realizing we were now outside of the school gate. "M'not bendin' over backward for 'im." I mumbled. "Ye, alright then, Lennon. Thanks for the ciggie mate. Catch ya later." George waved and walked into the school.

What in the bloody hell gave George the guts to come and talk to me like that? Was I becoming the soft one? Clearly I was.

~Paul's~

"Mornin' mate!" George came up beside me and began to open his locker. I kept my face hidden in my locker as I mumbled "Mornin' Geo." He instantly grabbed my locker door and slammed in shut, and reached out to touch my face. "Fresh cigarette burn to the cheek, lad..." George backed up a little bit to respect my space. I nodded and fumbled with my hair. George shook his head.

We began walking to class, which was on the complete opposite side of the building. I kept my head down, as always, and watched my feet alongside George's. That way I knew where I was going. Suddenly George stopped about a foot ahead of me. I looked up and saw him talking to John. Fucking guy just knows where we are all the time. I stopped and watched what seemed to be a fairly awkward conversation between John and George. John obviously saw my cheek from over George's shoulder because he was staring at me.

George walked back toward me and nodded backward toward John. I shook my head and George gave me a look that just said just fuckin' talk to him. I rolled my eyes and shoved passed George, who disappeared into our classroom.

"Fancy a ciggie break, McCartney?" John smiled. I expected the smile to be full of pity, but it looked genuine. I didn't speak, I just nodded and followed beside John to the door. "Man of very few words, y'are." John said as he handed me a cigarette as we sat down on a bench. I nodded again. "Thanks, John." I mumbled. "My, my! Yer voice is back, baby!" John mocked me, and I rolled my eyes. "Whaddya want, Lennon?" I spoke more clearly. "That's not how ye talk to yer elders, son!" John clearly just wanted to make me smile. I gave him a quick smile out the side of my mouth.

"Look, Paul.. I just want to help you out. You're a nice lad and I don't like seeing you the way you are. Cigarette burns on yer face, mate... it ain't right." John admitted. He looked away from me while he spoke. "Dunno, son. I thought we could be mates, y'know. Ye picked me over George when ye woke up, y'know?" John looked back up at me as I took a long drag. "What?" I was confused now. "Paul.. After we found ye in yer bed, George was helpin' ye and ye kept calling for me." As he spoke I felt my heart quicken and my cheeks flush from embarrassment. "O-oh, I-ugh," I tried to muster some kind of words together but I just took another long drag instead.

We sat in silence for another few minutes. Until John handed me another cigarette. I found some courage after the first drag of the second smoke. "I dunno why I asked for you, Lennon." My words were becoming clearer and clearer, must mean I'm getting more comfortable with John. "Me neither, but I was there. Anytime, y'know, at all I'll be there..." John murmured while slicking his hair back. "John we barely know each other. Why?" I was being blunt, but I needed to know I needed to know why he cared to damn much and why I wanted him around so much.

"Dunno, McCartney... Dunno." John admitted as he shook his head.