Nowhere Girl ~ John Lennon/The Beatles

Chapter Thirteen: The Party

He looked as handsome as ever, wearing a black shirt with the top few buttons undone, tucked into a tight pair of jeans, his hair lazily quiffed up as usual, though he wasn't wearing his glasses yet again. His grin was infectious, and the way his eyes squinted she could tell he wasn't just struggling to see as usual, he was also well on his way to being drunk.

"Good afternoon, Roberta," he greeted teasingly, making her roll her eyes, letting out a laugh that made him feel surprisingly excited, especially as he saw the crate of beer she was holding. "Thought I said no presents?"

"Bold of you to assume these are just for you," she replied as he stepped back, letting her into the house. "Dunno about Liverpool but back where I'm from you shouldn't go to a gathering without booze. Plus they should make up for the fact I'm late,"

"You're not late, you're not meant to come to a party on time either," he shrugged, letting out a single laugh at her obvious nerves. "Relax, Robin. Your hair looks nice,"

"Surprised you can see it," she retorted quickly, hoping it hid how flattered she actually was. "Who's here so far?"

"Just the band and Con, they're all out in the garden," he said, gesturing for her to follow him. "Come 'ed, I'll show you through,"

***

Robin had hardly seen John all night.

After he'd let her into the house she'd sat out on the garden with him and his band and cousin for a while, the distant noise of the record player coming through the open kitchen window, but when a few other party guests turned up, college mates that she didn't know too well and lads from his old school, John had left her behind with Stuart and the other lads, which was fine considering she knew them all. They sat chatting, working their way through the oversized case of beers she'd brought, until eventually all of them had drifted into the house except for Stuart and Pete, the three of them sat on the garden bench talking about nothing in particular.

Robin had never been drunk before, only coming close once or twice when she'd been to the football and then the pub with her Dad, but she realised as she got up from the bench to light a cigarette she might have been rather tipsy. She struggled to ignite the cigarette, fumbling over the lighter, scowling as she could hear the two lads laughing at her. She counted herself lucky that John wasn't there to make fun of her, but then remembered he would be in a much worse state than her.

"Here," a voice said with a small laugh, and before she knew it someone was holding their lighter up to the cigarette between her teeth.

It wasn't a voice she recognised, not John or Stuart or any of the band. She frowned through the dim darkness that had fallen and realised that this was an entirely new person, a tall lad that practically towered over her. He was well-built too, with short blonde hair and dark eyes, a dazzling smile acting as a source of light through the darkness. He was dressed in a smart shirt and jacket, with dark jeans, his outfit much smarter and probably more expensive than anyone else's there that night. Robin felt a little intimidated by him, but that might have just been the alcohol.

"I could've done it myself," she replied stubbornly, flicking a small smirk at him.

"Strong independent woman," Stuart remarked teasingly, making her roll her eyes at him, though he clearly recognised the newcomer that stood in front of them. "Alright, Ant?"

"Can't complain Stu," the lad - Ant - replied with a casual shrug before he turned his attention back to Robin, his small smile turning into one that looked almost flirtatious. "You must be the famous Roberta that's just moved here,"

"I can't be that famous if you're getting my name wrong," she said, trying to sober up a little though that was a tricky task, holding her hand out for him to shake. "Robin,"