The Less I Know The Better [complete]

12 ;; grades

"John! Why weren't you at school yesterday?"

John tugged his frayed school blazer tighter against his body as he jogged to catch up with his best friend; a wintry breeze nipped at his flushed cheeks, clothes flapping in the wind as he hurried along, cupping his hands around the flame of his lighter to keep it from going out as he attempted to light his cigarette. The sky above was ominously grey, a regular occurrence in the English autumn season. They were going to have to prepare themselves for the constant rain, and eventual snow in winter. Not like we aren't used to it, though.
Ringo was across the street, waiting expectantly with his arms crossed, smoking a cigarette of his own, shirt untucked and shoelaces untied. He looked jittery and uncomfortable at being in the cold like everyone else seemed to be, since everyone had gotten accustomed to the heat. They'd have to start wearing coats and scarves everywhere.

"Sorry, Rings." He puffed, slowing when he finally reached him, smiling apologetically. "I just.. needed to be alone for a bit. Y'know?" He lifted a hand to rub at his temple tiredly. "I'm sick of school and it's only been a week and a half."

"That's okay," the azure eyed boy smiled at him as they began their usual trek to the academy; "sorry, didn't have time to get us teas or anythin'."

"Aw, I woulda loved one!" John groaned. "Oh well." He wouldn't admit it, but he was feeling strangely warm inside already - when he thought of Paul. He'd apologised to him for what he said, and it seemed he'd actually accepted it. Could they possibly be entering better territory in their relationship? He didn't think Paul was the type to forgive easily. Well, John wasn't either. But it was harder for him to admit mistakes. Don't get your hopes up too much, Lennon, he told himself. Just cause he accepted the apology doesn't mean he's forgiven you nor wants to be friends. But.. it wasn't totally out of line. They had a few things in common. They should at least not argue all the time for the sake of their friends.

"Hey, what's got you so smiley?" Ringo's voice tore him from his reverie.

"Huh?" He lifted his head, blinking innocently at him. He hadn't realised he'd been smiling.. fuck. Ringo always notices everything, damnit! He forced his lips into a straight line. "'m not smilin',"

"Yeah, you are. What happened, eh?" A grin spread across the older's face, and he bumped his shoulder into his, taking another drag of his cig. "I know something's up. C'mon, spill the beans!"

"Nothin' happened!" John insisted, raising his eyebrows at him. It seemed to not have worked, however, since Ringo just stared back at him silently, smug smile painted all over his face. "Ugh, fuckin' hell, Ringo. Fine.. somethin' happened."

"What was it? Did you pull a particularly fit bird or somethin'?" His eyes glittered excitedly.

"No, no!" John shook his head with a grimace. "That's the last thing I wanna do right now. I meant.. I talked to Paul."

"Oh. Did you guys finally work shit out?" The azure-eyed boy's excitement turned to confusion and slight hope. He obviously doubted that they'd actually somewhat made up.

"I mean-" John shrugged, taking a long puff of his cigarette, expelling the smoke with a sigh. "sort of? I had.. said some pretty dumb things 'cause I was feelin' all spiteful. I- I apologised, and he took it with a grain of salt, I guess. That was it. Not us becomin' friends or anythin'.."

"John.." Ringo furrowed his brows, staring at him suspiciously. "what'd you say to him?"

"Uh-" John pressed his lips together, feeling his cheeks flush with embarrassment as he rubbed the back of his neck, trying not to show his nervousness. "nothing,"