I'm With the Beatles

Do You Want to Know A Secret?

The two hours were over and we dragged ourselves from the pool. Everyone looked sixty years older from all of the wrinkles that graced our bodies. I went back up to the room, while the guys and Mal, the bodyguard, sneaked out the back door to find some food.

"We better not see any babies when we come back, Lizzie," John fooled. I gently punched his stomach and giggled.

"What kind of lady do you think I am?"

"A hot one," George chimed in. I gave him a punch, too.

"Alright, whatever y'all say. Don't get mauled to death, okay!"

"Yes ma'am," they all stated. They walked out into New York City with the winter sun shining on their faces.

I pulled the towel tighter around me and took the stairs one step at a time. I didn't want to risk any slipping or falling. The room door was still closed, so I gently rapped upon it.

"Who is it?" Paul asked from behind the door.

"Dizzy Miss Lizzy!"

The heavy door opened slowly to show Paul still standing in the clothes he fell asleep in earlier. He decided to put his pants back on, though.

"You've been gone for a while," he mentioned while closing the door behind me.

"And you've been asleep for a while as well," I pointed out. He shook his head slighty.

"Nah, I only woke up about thirty minutes ago. I tried to sit down and write some songs, but I miserably failed."

"I'm really sorry to hear about that, Paul," I comforted. He tried to give me a smile, but just turned around to look out of the window.

"Well, I'm gonna get dressed. Don't walk out on me!"

"I promise, love," he stated.

I grabbed the clothes that I needed and hopped into the bathroom. I donned a long, yellow nightgown. After I got dressed, I squirted some conditioner into my hair and washed it out in the sink. I brushed through it and exited. Paul was back in bed, laying on his back with his hands behind his head. I just stood beside him and stared. He finally came back down to reality and saw me looking.

"Aye, what's so interesting?"

"Oh, nothing. It's just that you looked so peaceful laying there," I revealed. He chuckled a bit.

"You make me sound as if I were dead. Why don't you lie down?"

The sides of my mouth turned up and I walked around to the other side of the mattress. He turned to face me as I dove underneath the blankets.

"Do you mind if we talk?" I asked with a bit of hesitation.

"That's fine, love," he mumbled from behind the fabric.

"Well, what did Ringo mean last night when he said that I was your Judy? I mean, that's not my name!"

Paul slightly smiled and closed his eyes for a few seconds. He started to chuckle a bit as well.

"Paul, please answer me," I pleaded while trying not to laugh myself.

"Oh, alright! The word "Judy" means "girlfriend" in British."

"Really?"

"Yes," he sighed with satisfaction of getting the information off of his chest.

"Wow, I didn't know that you felt about me that way."

"Aye, you're a very unique girl, Elizabeth," he revealed. His arms curled around me and he brought me closer to him. I put my hand over my mouth to calm down my giggle fit.

"Why are you laughing?"

"No reason; it's just that you called me by my long name."

We both laid in silence for a good ten minutes. Paul just played with my hair as I tried to drift off to sleep. I thought about last night and remembered what I also wanted to know.

"Then, why did you say that you weren't sure?"

"It was very new to me and sometimes Ringo can get on me nerves," he described.

"Oh, don't blame it on Ringo! You know you're just nervous to be around me," I teased as I pulled the blankets further up my shoulders.

Paul laughed silently to himself and patted my arm. He just stayed on his back, staring up at the ceiling. I slightly smiled and fell asleep.

"Da, da, da, da, dum!"

My eyelids broke their connection and I awoke to see John, George, and Ringo barrelling through the door. They had bags full of snacks and were already chomping down on food. George threw a bag onto the bump that was Paul.

"Aye, what is this?" Paul groggily questioned as he rubbed the sleep from his peepers.

"Mmffrrffh," John muffled through a mouthful.

"Spit it out, John," I cried as I attempted to open the bag. A loud splat followed soon after.

"I meant figuritively!"

"Too bad! I am a very literal person!"

"I'll make a note of it."

John shrugged his shoulders and picked up a piece of paper with a pencil. He chunked both at me.

"I better get used to this," I sighed.

Paul had already pulled a hamburger out of the brown bag. I was quite entertained as I watched the grease trickle down his hands.

"Ew, this is so tatty! John, what kind of rissole is this?"

"Only the best! At least that's what the bird said in the caff."

It took me a while to digest their choice of language. I finally just shook it off and sunk my teeth into a cheeseburger. In the era that I live in, Paul is a devout vegetarian, so it was pretty weird to see him eat that food. It wasn't the best, but the excess mustard helped my palette to accept it.

"So, what were you both doing?" George muffled through chewed french fries.

"Sleeping," I replied while throwing the bags into the trash can.

"Sure," Ringo chimed. I playfully punched him in the back as I walked by.

"So, Paul, Brian said that we are going to the capitol tomorrow?" John questioned.

"Yeah, we're supposed to be taking a plane. He wanted to make sure that we get plently of rest tonight."

"Great! Now I have to sleep like that again," George whined as he pointed at the folded mattress in the couch.