He's Something

Two - John Lennon

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Two • John Lennon

I begin to wake up to the pain in my stomach. I groan softly in my bed. "I'm so hungry." I say to myself, clutching my stomach tightly.

It's 3:00 and Leo hasn't even woken me up! I got out of bed, moping down the stairs only to find the house completely empty. "Mom, are you home?" I say to the empty house. No answer.

I sigh. I think Leo ringed his friends and went off to goof around town. "Oh boy," I say to myself, thinking of the things he could possibly be doing. I wonder where mom is.

Remembering my stomach in pain, I quietly walk to the kitchen and make myself a chicken sandwich. Nothing fancy.

Finishing the sandwich, I lick the remaining crumbs on my fingers, licking them contentedly. "I wonder when Leo and mom come back." I say, cleaning the plate which previously had a sandwich on top of it.

Feeling bored out of my mind, I walk outside of my house, strolling around the neighborhood to get a little of the fresh afternoon air. Feeling its cool breeze, I smile softly. I love how cool it is in Liverpool.

Not looking where I was going, I bump into someone. Noticing the bump was rather rough, it was most likely a male who I bumped.

Not looking up, still on the ground, I rub my head and apologize. "I'm sorry," I say rubbing my temples.

"No it's alright," the voice replies sounding manly and hoarse.

I see a hand stick out from the stranger. Seeing it, I grab it gently and get back up on my two feet.

I look at the boy. He was probably older than me but he was definitely a teen like me.

He had brown pompadour hair, the same as George's except his sideburns were vivid. His nose was quite structured and he had nice brown eyes.

He wore a white shirt, a black leather jacket with a decoration at the end of its sleeve and with a pair of dark tapered trousers. He looks like the local teddy boys.

"I haven't seen you around here before," he tells me, striking up a small talk.

"Me neither," I reply, dusting my red dress, and straightening it up.

"Well, my name's John. John Lennon." He replies, grinning at me. Not the soft kind of grin, the mischievous type.

"Yanna. Yanna Parker," I reply looking straightforwardly at him.

"It's quite an ace meeting ya, Yanna." He tells me, winking at me flirtatiously.

Surprised by his actions, I knew he was one of those typical players. "Yeah you too." I reply without any emotion.

"Can I keep ya company a 'lil more?" He asks me, smiling at me.

Knowing I was alone, I sigh and said yes.

"Bee's knees. Great!" He replies, happily. I smile, an uncomfortable one at that though.

We walk a bit around the neighborhood and finally reaching the park. We both walk over to the large tree that stood tall beside the swings.

"So, what exactly do you find fun?" He asks me, leaning against the large tree, looking up at the leaves falling slowly to the ground.

"I like writing," I tell him, smiling sincerely at him. He chuckles. "That's nice. I like painting," he tells me, placing his hands on his stomach.