⇾ 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 | 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐈

Chapter Three: Fair Enough

August 1, 1961

The Beatles played for about an hour or so. I talked to Emily most of the time and caught George grinning at us from the stage once.

Emily was quick to point out John. He was dressed in the same leather as the others, with nearly the same hairstyle. I had to admit, he was very handsome.

After the show, the band fought their way over to us.

"You all did amazing," I told George as he stepped up in front of me.

He grinned. "Thanks, love."

I saw John go up to Emily and glance at me a moment. He turned. I swallowed, feeling out of place. "You the one Geo and Paul were talking about? Donna, was it?"

"I—uh—yeah."

John smirked. "Uh, uh, uh," he mocked and I looked at my feet.

"Aww, be nice to the pretty lady, John," said George.

I frowned and looked up to see John right in front of me. "I'm sorry, Donna, love," he said, extending his hand. I shook it.

"Don't worry, I'd make fun of me too, if I were you." I smiled, rolling my eyes.

"Ye have picked up a lovely one, Geo," he said, looking me up and down skeptically. Then, he turned back to Emily, disregarding me once again.

I turned to George and Paul. "You did good," I said.

"I dunno if you remember, but you kinda just said that?" Paul said and George elbowed him. He winced.

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever."

"How about we go get some food?" asked George. "I'm tired of being here already."

I shrugged. "That's fine with me."

George smiled smugly and turned to go out the door. I waited for Paul to follow.

"I'll stay here," he then said and gestured for me to go.

"Suit yourself," I said and ran to catch up with George as he stepped outside.

"When did you start playing guitar?" I asked, falling into step with him.

He bit his lip. "I dunno...sometime when I was about thirteen, maybe? Fourteen? I don't really know." He shrugged.

I nodded. "Fair enough."

"What about you? What do you like to do in your free time?" he asked me, smiling warmly. He was taller by me so I had to look up to meet his gaze.

"Well—." I paused. "I like to read?"

"Boooring," said George, smirking.

"That's what one does when she has no friends, I guess." I laughed.

He raised his eyebrows. "Not a social one, I take?"

"Yeah, no," I replied. "Not a fan of attention."

He shrugged. "Fair enough, I suppose."

He opened the door to a diner we had stopped at and John tumbled in after us.

I looked him up and down, an incredulous look on my face.

"Where the hell did you come from?" George asked.

"The Cavern, just like you, idiot."

George rolled his eyes. "I guess I'm buying you food?"

"You bet." John smirked.

George frowned, then sighed in defeat. "Well, let's sit then. Where's Emily?"

"She went home. I dunno, she just got mad at me and ran off."

George looked at him sympathetically. "I told you you're not supposed to flirt with other girls while she's around."

John rolled his eyes. "I didn't. She said something about me looking at Donna over here all goo-goo-eyed or something. She's full of it, probably tired."

My breath hitched in my throat. "Wait," I croaked. "Me?"

John looked at me, a dumb look on his face. "That's what I just said, wasn't it?"

I nodded and looked back at my water the waitress had brought me. I heard George kick John under the table.

"Sorry, Donna, love, I didn't mean ta scare ye."

I looked up. "No, you didn't scare me at all. Your girlfriend seems like she's jealous." I clamped my hand over my mouth, realizing what I'd just said.

John looked at me almost threateningly, then sighed. "Honestly, you're probably right. I didn't realize it before we got together, but now it seems it's painfully clear."

The bell dinged again and I saw Paul walk in. He came to sit next to me.

What in the world was going on with these dudes?

"There ye are," he panted, sitting next to me. "I ran all over Liverpool trying to find your arse." He shoved John lightly across the table. John barely moved.

"Well, surprise," John said. "I followed Geo and Donna." Paul frowned. "What, Macca, I have to always follow you around?"

Paul rolled his eyes. "You could at least tell me where you're going when I'm looking for you, y'know," he muttered.

John turned back to me. "You're not talking."

"I—well—I don't want to get in the middle of this," I said timidly.

John raised his eyebrows and sipped at his drink. "You're not gonna get in the way."

"Well, alright." I sat up straighter. "What am I supposed to say, then?"

"I dunno." He thought a moment. "Maybe tell us where ye came from? Why'd ye move so far? Whatcha like to do? Something like that?"

I sat back. "Well, I lived in London, but I—uh—moved." I shrugged. "It's not that complicated."

"Well, what do you like to do?"

"I read."

John raises his eyebrows. "That's all?"

"I played guitar for a few years...my grandpa taught me, but I stopped last year?"

He bit his lip. "That's more interesting, I suppose."

George groaned. "Are we just gonna sit here and talk, or are we going to actually get food?"

John and Paul rolled their eyes in unison and almost as if on cue, the waitress showed up beside us.