This Boy - Mclennon

Chapter 6: Till There Was You

~Paul's~

After classes, I stood with my head in my locker again - waiting for George so we could walk home together. He was taking much longer than usual, and I began to grow impatient. I opened his locker and stole the pack of cigarettes he hid in there for, as he would call them, stressful occasions. That kid had nothing to be stressed about. Except maybe the fact that his best friend was a punching bag.

I went outside and sat on the bench where John and I had smoked together earlier.

John...

He seemed all tough and rugged on the outside, but by this point I knew that it was nothing but a mask. John was a caring person. Maybe not for many people, but when he cared, he cared HARD. I really didn't need him watching over me though, as much as I enjoy him.. George finally stumbled out of the school.

"What in the bloody hell took ye' so damn long?" I asked as I stood up to walk home. "Almost got into a bloody row, mate. Short little bugger from a few grades ahead wouldn't shut his mouth." George mumbled as he snagged his cigarettes back from me. "What was 'e sayin'?" I asked him. Usually, when George was in these situations, it had something to do with him sticking up for me. He's taken a few too many blows to the face because of me. I appreciate him sticking up for me, but it's not a nice feeling. "He kept goin' off 'bout that fat little McCartney kid with all the bruises and how e'd love to kick your ass. He shut up right quick when I got up in his face, y'know! E's a fuckin' short little blue eyed meanie." George was very proud of himself.

"Stop sticking up for me." I mumbled as we got close to George's house. "As your knight in shining armor, it is my humble duty to do so!" George mocked me, I rolled my eyes at him. "I can handle it mate." I told him as he began walking up his walkway. "Ye act like ye can mate, but it's takin' a toll on yer bloody mind!" George said as he smiled and waved. I brushed it off and headed towards my house. Jim's house, sorry..

"Mike? You home?" I shouted as I walked in the door. "Paul?" I heard his small voice and went up to his room. He was sitting at his desk doing homework. "What's up lad?" I asked as I sat down on his bed. "Just working on some homework, are you okay? Please stop letting this happen Paul, it's not okay, John told me that--" I immediately cut him off. "John told you WHAT?!" I stood up. Why in the hell was he talking to my little brother?

"He said the next time something happens to call him... I have his number right here..." Mike pulled a crumpled up piece of paper out of his pocket.

Wow. John Lennon was getting himself in way too god damned deep.

~John's~

I was lying on my bed when I heard the telephone ring. My heart almost stopped, was it Mike calling to tell me that Paul was in trouble?

I may have crossed Paul's comfort zone by telling Mike to call me, but at this point I didn't really care. I ran and answered the phone before Mimi could.

"Hello?"

"John?" It was Paul. "Hey McCartney, what's up?" I asked hesitantly. He obviously found out I gave Mike my phone number.

"Mind yer own fuckin' business." Paul said, sounding more confident than I've ever heard him before, and the line went dead.

Fuck that, I was only trying to help the bugger. He knew I cared about him...He knew we had some kind of connection. I began to think he was trying to push me away. Maybe Paul was afraid of caring for yet another person who would see him hurt. I put my leather jacket on and boots and stormed out the door without telling Mimi. I wanted to talk to Paul and tell him to swallow his god damn pride and let me be there for him.

I knocked quite loudly on the door. Paul's father answered. He reeked of alcohol and cigarettes. Poor Paul and Mike, that's not a nice smell to come home to.

"What're ye sellin'?" Jim asked me rudely. "Nothing, sir, I'm looking for my mate Paul." I said as I began to grind my teeth. This man deserved a good punch. Jim nodded his head and walked back toward the staircase. "PAUL! C'MERE!" Jim yelled to get his son's attention. I watched Paul wearily come down the first few stairs before noticing I was standing there. His shoulders sank. "If yer goin' out don't fuckin' bother comin' back tonight. I don't want ye wakin me up, doors gonna be bloody locked!" Jim yelled to Paul as he walked into what I assumed was the kitchen.

"Wanna go fer a walk?" I asked Paul. He sighed and nodded his head. "Ye let's get the hell out of here..."

I didn't understand why he had been so rude to me on the phone and then was totally okay with hanging out with me. This kid was back and forth. Maybe he was confused.

I sure as hell knew I was.