Yesterday

Chapter 41

"What?!" I cried, jumping up from my seat.

I had to take a moment to secure my balance before I ran over to where the loud bang had come from. The entire club had gone silent with curiosity at this point.

I could feel Cynthia and Pattie following me and I could still hear my mother gasping from all the laughter.

Finally I came to a clearing, only to find Paul lying face down on the ground. His arms were sprawled out and his face was mushed up against the floor. An empty pitcher was laying next to him, and he stunk of hard liquor. I shot John a hopefully-threatening look. He shrugged at me innocently, rolling his eyes.

"Don't look at me like that! Not my fault that Paulie just can't handle a little booze." He gave Mike a pat on the shoulder.

"In fact, you can blame this guy. He was practically forcing doubles and triples down the poor boy's throat." Mike shrugged and gave me an apologetic look.

As distraught as I felt, I couldn't help but crack a smile. Maybe it was the alcohol, but the whole situation seemed pretty funny to me. Soon, I was laughing hysterically.

Ringo took a camera out of his coat pocket, leaning over Paul and snapping a photograph of him. "This one is gonna come out great," he chuckled, clearly drunk himself. "I can already tell it's a keeper."

That would be the first of many photographs that night. In fact, I'm pretty sure that very one is currently hanging on our fridge.

Suddenly, a door flew open and an angry-looking man, probably a manager or something, stormed out into the clearing.

"What on Earth is going on in here?!" he boomed, his loud voice being too much for me to handle.

"Woah buddy, take it easy. Not our fault that Paul can't handle a little booze." I winked at John, hoping he would pick up on the fact I was mocking him. He erupted into a fit of giggles. The man glanced over at Paul lying on the floor as if he had just noticed him, and suddenly he looked more enraged than ever.

"Get out!" he cried, waving his arms in an attempt to shoo us away like we were a bunch of dogs that had gotten into trouble. "Get out of here before I call the police!"

Suddenly we were all in action, moving in fast motion. John let out a yell as him and George swooped down to Paul, scooping him up in their arms. Ringo snapped another picture.

"Let's go ladies!" John cried, gesturing us to follow him and George as they lugged Paul behind them. Mike and Ringo hooted and ran after them, and the rest of the ladies and I weren't far behind. The other people in the club who been watching what was going on began to cheer for us, whistling and yelling. I ran as fast as I could, my ears full of the sound of my own laughter. My heart felt as if it was going to beat right out of my chest. I saw the flash of Ringo's camera going off repeatedly, and I laughed at the thought of what these pictures might possibly look like. I couldn't wait to find out.

We burst through the doors of the club and into the crisp and mysterious air. Everyone took a moment to recover. It was completely silent except for the sound of everyone breathing heavily, trying to catch their breath. For a moment, anyway, before the (apparently) very persistent club manager threw himself through the doors and ran straight towards us, shaking his fist in the air.

"Off my property! Get off my property!"

I let out a yelp of surprise, and Cynthia grabbed onto my arm. I looked over to John in hopes of an answer. Now carrying Paul on his back piggy-back style, he ran towards the street while waving his arms frantically in the air.

"Taxi! TAXI!"

The manager, seemingly pleased that we were making efforts to leave at last, retreated back into the club. We all let out a simultaneous sigh of relief.