~ twelve ~

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     Several weeks have passed since Paul and I had stopped talking. Naturally, I stopped showing up to band meets as Paul didn't want anything to do with me. No one really seemed to notice a difference except for Richard, who kept asking questions everytime he saw me in the hallways. George simply pulled him away or made an excuse to leave, thankfully.

     Now, I walk down the hallway of the school before class, stopping at my locker to retrieve some books I'd need for the remainder of the day.

     Just as I was about to leave, I felt someone tug on the sleeve of my jumper.

     Oh, who could it possibly be? Surely, it's not Richard.

     "John." Richard's voice called out from
behind me.

     With a grin, I turned to face the lad, "Yeah, Rich?"

     "Why aren't ye comin' to band pra-" He began to say until I chimed in.

     "I told ye, Paul wants nothin' to do wi' me." I explained for the nine hundredth time. "Pretty certain that George hates me, too."

     "But why?! I get ye and Geo had an altercation, but that was weeks ago! Can't he jus forgive and forget?" Richard asked with pleading eyes.

     I stared down at the floor, "Why don't ye ask him that? Instead of buggin' me every soddin' day?"

     "Believe me, I've tried, John. The bloke jus won't give me any answers." Richard hissed. "I wish things could be back to normal again. I mean, I forgave ye!"

     I slammed my locker door shut, "Yeah, well... maybe it's for a good reason. Trust me, ye probably don't even want to know the reason why he's so put off by me, quite honestly."

     He furrowed his brows with wide eyes, "What the Hell is that supposed to mean, Lennon?!" He shrilled out while he nervously fiddled with the rings on his fingers. "All of ye are jus so damn cryptic for no reason!"

     I chuckled and walked off to my class, leaving the boy alone with his own confusion.

     Day after day, all I could think about was Paul. All I wanted to do was make up with him and move on as if nothing bad happened between us. At this point, I don't even care if he never wants to be anything more than good mates, I just want to be able to see his precious face everyday, again. Just as it was, before I went and screwed everything up.

     If only I didn't get so involved with George's little obsession.

     I should have ignored that note. That note that caused me to meet with George in the first place. That note that caused me to hit George as hard as I did. That note that caused me to worry Paul. That note that caused me to confess my true emotions I have for that teddy boy. That note that tore apart everything I held so dear to me and scattered it on the floor. That note that broke my heart into mere bits.

Quit being such a pansy.

     Once lunch came rolling around, I no longer sat near Richard or George. Instead, I sat in the back of the cafeteria at a table, alone, just like before. Although, in the corner of my eye, I could see them whispering amongst eachother.

     After school, I planned to go down to the local record shop to get my mind off of things. I have never been there before and today seems like a pretty ideal time.

     Since the band has dropped me, I have been put back to square one. Now, I am once again in search of some sort of sanctuary within others. Once again, I am alone by myself in this shitty town. Once again, I've got no shoulder to lean on.

     Lost in thought, I didn't realize I was already infront of the record store. The front of it was made of old, chipped bricks and had a sign with sloppily painted words on it. I opened the door and a bell on it chimed as I walked in.

     I scanned the empty area and desolate rows for half-way decent vinyls, praying there would be something worth buying.

     Honestly, I could use some more Holly records, I barely have any to begin with. Plus, if Paul ever decides to forgive me, we'd have new music to listen to together.

     God, I'm delusional for even suggesting such a thing.

     Everything was going pretty well until I noticed two people down the next row. One of them with a familiar face.

     Jesus Christ, this would only happen to me.

     Speak of the devil.

     There they were. Paul and his girlfriend were searching through the plethora of vinyl records just a couple of meters away from me.

     We haven't spoken in ages and honestly, how could I blame him? All I want to do, now, is discuss with him about everything that has happened and apologize until I'm blue in the face.

     There isn't enough time for that, though.

     This isn't even the right moment, anyroad.

     Paul looked up at me with anxiety ridden all over him, shooting his gaze back down on the records. His girlfriend had straight, long red hair with rosey cheeks and hazel eyes. I'd be lying if I said she wasn't a doll. Now, I can see why Paul would ignore me like he is.

     My feet then started to move towards the two.

     I need to talk to Paul, even if it's just careless talk. I need to get into his cute little head.

     "Ello there, pretty boy." I smirked as the words left my lips without a second thought.

     Paul's eyes shot wide open before he squinted them shut, again. His soft cheeks slowly became a tad pink from my remark.

     Oh, you'll blush when I flirt with you, but you're immovably heterosexual, ofcourse.

     "Piss off, Lennon." He growled.

     "Ouch, Macca. Have ye no mercy?" I whined sarcastically, gripping at my chest.

     "Quit callin' me that, we ain't friends." Paul snapped, turning to face me at last.

     His face was pale, yet his nose was a light shade of red and his hair comfortably fell upon his forehead, slightly disheveled from the breeze outside.

     I laughed a bit, "Sure we aren't, Macca. Isn't it crazy we find ourselves together in a record store of all places? Must be fate."

     With a quick glance at Jane, I whipped back around and headed down the rest of the row.

     "And who the Hell do ye think ye are, ye prick?!" A female's voice shouted at me.

     I turned back around to be met with Jane's angry face, "I've seen ye around school before, thinkin' yer hot shit and all, well I see right through it! I know yer type."

     I bit my bottom lip and shook my head, "Calm down, love, I'm not here to shout."

     "Quit botherin' us then and jus go!" Paul chimed in. "Can't ye take a hint?"

     I put my arms up in defeat and decided to just leave the isle all together.

     Without buying anything, I headed out the shop, quite pleased with myself even if Paul hated me more because of it.

     God, how I want these dismal weeks to just pass already. I need Paul to talk to me again. I may croak, if not.

     I walked back home with a grin on my face that I just couldn't seem to drop. Even if it would eventually bite me in the ass, what I did was well worth it.

      Macca, just please don't pass me by. That's all I ask of you. Give me the chance to be yours, I'm on my knees.

Don't Pass Me By // MclennonWhere stories live. Discover now