I don't actually know where this story is going, let's just hope for the best
1957, January
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"-but ya fuck one goat."
The class was entirely silent as we looked at the substitute in wonder. He held up a finger and nodded suggestively. No one reacted.
Then suddenly laughter erupted from the back of the classroom. I turned around and saw Paul holding on to his stomach and almost falling off his chair.
"Well at least someone got it." The young substitute said to himself. The bell rang and the boy kept laughing.
When I met him outside of the school he was telling the joke to another bloke. I stood in front of them for a while, listening to the story again, trying to understand it.
"And then, George, he said: But you fuck one goat." He giggled frantically and awaited the other boy's reaction.
"Who told you that one, Paul?" He asked with a smirk.
"That new one, Raymond." He pulled his book back tighter around his shoulder as he spoke.
The other boy chuckled and shook his head, letting his eyes fall onto me.
"Who's this one?" He pointed a finger and flicked his eyes to Paul.
"Oh, that's Ann. Sophia's." I gave him a quick wave and pulled a tight smile. The boy nodded and presented his fangs in a big grin.
"And this is George, Ann." Paul motioned for us to come closer. George raised his hand, I shook it and quickly pulled back. He was surprisingly intimidating.
"I'm getting my guitar at George's, would you like to come with?" He suggested. I nodded and we began walking down the street.
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Twenty minutes later I found myself in a strange boy's bedroom. I sat on the floor watching the boys play guitar on the bed.
They looked at each other's motions intently. They strummed and plucked and sometimes it turned out sounding good.
"How'd you do that last one?" Paul spoke.
"I don't know, just do it in barre." George answered.
"But I'm shit at barre." Paul complained.
The younger boy sighed. "I don't think we'll ever know how to play B7."
They grunted in unison and looked down at me.
"I don't know how to play B7." I said. "I don't know anything for that matter."
The boys chuckled and the elder stood up. "Should we head home then?" I nodded and stood up myself.
As we stepped out of the room a shaky voice came from within. "Lovely meeting you, Ann." And we were too far down the hall for me to respond.
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"And be good now." Mum bent down and kissed me on the cheek. Jim stood beside her and patted his son on the shoulder.
"Well, bye then. Have a nice night." Paul said as politely as possible beside me.
Mum grinned and studied us for a moment. Then she turned around and needled her arm through Jim's, and they walked out of the door together.
I looked to my side and noticed Paul already had gone to the radio cabinet. I followed the noice of channels coming in from all around and watched as he fiddled with the buttons. I sat myself down on the sofa and listened intently to the sounds erupting from the radio.
Then there was guitar, and that was all I seemed to hear. Paul stood up and shook his head and shut his eyes closed. He sat down beside me.
"You know who this is, Ann?" He said as he bent his head back. I shook my head, but realising he couldn't see I hummed a no.
"It's only one of the greatest. Elvis." He nearly whispered. I giggled and watched him drum on the armrest with his fingers.
"Never heard his music before." I narrowed my eyes and studied the cabinet.
"You said you liked him." He suddenly erupted from his euphoria.
"I've only heard his name. Besides, you told me I had to say someone." I shrugged my shoulders.
"Well, do you like it?" He looked at me. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on the music.
...you ain't nothing but a...
"Yes, I think so." I opened my eyes, beginning to enjoy the American guitar.
Light suddenly seemed to beam out of Paul. He jumped up and offered his hand. "Would you like to dance?"
I tilted my head and pouted, hesitating for a moment. He raised his eyebrow and pouted himself.
How could I say no to those eyes...
I slowly began raising myself up from the comfortable cushions, but Paul beat me at it when I had taken his hand. He dragged me up and spun me around.
I squealed in surprise and almost fell over, but Paul caught me. "Fucking hell, alright." I gasped as I steadied myself. Paul chuckled and let go of me.
"How do you dance to this?" I asked as we had just been standing there for a few seconds. "However you'd like." Paul shrugged with a smirk plastered on his face.
He took my hands and began turning his legs and swinging his hips. I laughed and tried to copy his moves.
Soon we were all around the sitting room, twisting and swirling or whatever you'd call it.
But not after long the song had to come to an end. We paused and caught our breaths, smiling and throwing ourselves into fits of giggles.
"That was fun." I sighed as I heard violins coming from the radio. Paul grunted. "Oh, not this soft crap." He bent his head to the side and ruffled his hair.
His eyes fell down to my chest. A smile appeared on his lips. I slapped my hand onto where his gaze was and my fingers landed on the necklace. I looked down at it and smirked. It was nice.
I could only watch him as he regained his posture. "It sounds rather nice." I spoke while my chest began slowing down it's heaving. He looked at me and raised an eyebrow.
"It's not all that bad, I guess." He sighed. "I suppose we could have another dance." Our eyes met and the music seemed to fade away.
I suddenly felt Paul's hands on my waist. I instinctively put my hands on his shoulders. And we stood like that for a little while before I began swaying my hips.
...never let me go...
He began swaying a little himself, and our eyes never broke apart. We didn't speak a word. And as I looked at him I swore I could see something gleaming deep within his hazel eyes.
As the song progressed, my arms glided further over his shoulders, and at last found themselves around his neck. And his hands were at the small of my back, ever so gently rubbing small circles at the spot.
...love me tender, love me true...
My eyes shot open. I inhaled sharply through my nose, and it was an unfamiliar scent. I raised my head and could only see Paul's neck.
The song had finished long ago. We didn't fall asleep, I knew that for a fact. But what had we?
Paul was still swaying to a nonexistent beat. And holding me tight.
"Paul?" I tried to pull him off me, but to no luck. "Paul-" He didn't nudge.
I then heard him sniff against my shoulder. I tried again, but he held on too tight. "Paulie-" I gasped. He whimpered and softened under my arms, and I could finally get him loose.
When I had broken free, I held onto his shoulders as his limbs hung motionless. And his head hung low. Another sniff.
"What's wrong?" I tried. I could see him gulp. "D-do you need something?" He shook his head. I was getting really concerned.
"Paulie-" And then he couldn't hold it in any longer. It broke him. Tears started to fall onto the carpet, and he seemed to shrink.
I felt there was no use in trying to get him to speak, so I dragged him up to our room and tucked him into bed. He instantly rolled onto his side, facing the wall.
I sat on my own bed, watching him until I could hear him breathe easily. Then tucked myself in and tried to fall asleep.
But I just couldn't help myself from thinking I had caused him harm in some way, or if there was a B7 played at some point in the song.
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sniff sniff | I'm sorry if I write in a way that makes it feel like it all goes by so fast, and if it does, just read slower