And Your Girl Can Sing

Chapter 53: Das Leben Geht Weiter

    I fiddled with the items in my coat pockets and purse. I had stopped carrying my mobile phone around, deeming it unnecessary and a reminder of my past life, something I didn't need. Out of sight, out of mind. Out came my wallet: the eight marks left inside and assorted coins, my ID, other gift cards from the twenty-first century, the Monet card. I paused, remembering the day that I had gotten it at the Tate gift shop, Mr. Lungs who now sat on my desk back home. Beautiful from far away, but a mess up close.

    I closed my eyes.

    "What is this?"

    He scoffed. He scoffed again and again until it was accompanied by a laugh, the wide smile that made his shoulders shake from laughing so hard. "What is this? You don't know? Miss high-and-mighty Beatles girl doesn't know what song this is?"

    I stopped, the earbud falling out of my ear. Someone behind me muttered, "Bloody kids," and walked around me. Danny pulled me into a corner, still chuckling. "Shut it," I said, rolling my eyes. The wind threatened to lift my plaid uniform skirt and I hurriedly pushed it down. "Fine, don't tell me."

    "I won't," he said with raised eyebrows.

    I stared off into the window we were standing by, an old records shop, which made me increasingly curious about the song, its catchy beat still stuck in my head, Paul's loud vocals over John's harmony. It was obviously some sort of demo or jam record, nothing done for professional purposes. My eyes passed over the records being advertised in the shop window: Van Halen, Bon Jovi, The Bee Gees, Nirvana, The Mamas and the Papas, Sonny and Cher.

    "Give up, love?" Danny said. Someone walked near us, his cupped hand and bowed head indicating a light up. "C'mon, Cora, let's move," Danny continued, eyeing the smoker.

    I walked ahead of him and he called out, "I'll tell you. Your stubbornness is winning."

    "And why is that?" I called back.

    "Because I know you love me so."

    I turned around. "How can you be so sure—"

    "Because I know you love me so, love. That's the song title. 1969. Wake up in the morning, don't feel blue, because I know, I've got you." He hummed it again, walking closer to me, his hands in his pockets extending from a white uniform shirt with rolled up sleeves and an rumpled collar where a tie flapped loosely in the wind and I knew we were both thinking of the morning after the party in the inn. "Get a funny feeling, all day and night, get a funny feeling—" He was close to me and I could feel it, I leaned towards him, closing my eyes, I caught sight of a smirk on his lips before he parted them slightly and I paused; he opened his eyes and I prodded him in the side quickly, saying Gotcha!, and ran, laughing as the breeze ran with me, my blazer flying behind me like a parachute. I could hear his quickening footsteps behind me and I shrieked when he caught me, his voice singing lazily in my ear, "Wake up in the morning, don't feel blue—"

    "Danny."

    He slowly looked behind him, his arms still round my waist. "Clarke?"   

    Clarke stood behind Danny, a shorter boy with wavy hair, an innocent round face, and blue eyes. "Sorry to interrupt. Are we working on the project or...?" his eyes lingered to me and back to Danny.

    "Shite, mate, forgot about it." Danny kissed the top of my head. "Ta, love, forgot about a history project. Stuff about the C of E. I'll see you later, yeah?" I waved to him and watched him and Clarke walk away, two boys in the same school uniform until they rounded a corner and I turned around, took out my phone, and looked up the song.