Michelle

You Won't See Me

"Well she told me they'd hang me if they found me, and I told her it was nothing to get hung about!" Exclaimed John, causing his fellow band mates to almost cry with laughter.

"What's all this about?" I asked curiously, having just got off the bus and intruded upon their discussion.

"Just John's Aunt." Chuckled George,  wiping the tear from his eye. "Mimi."

"Well what about her?" I laughed lightly.

John rolled his eyes, having to explain the story once again.

"Well you see-" he began, a smug look upon his countenance.

"John likes to go spy on the girls up at Srawberry Field." Interjected Paul, wrapping his warm, embracing arms around my frozen body, kissing my forehead lightly.

"He hides up in some tree." Added George, suppressing his laughter with as much capacity as he was capable of.

"She tells me they'll hang me if I'm caught." Sighed John, obviously not as amused as Paul and George.

"What's Strawberry Field?" I asked, the 'new girl in town' experience relapsing having been so unfamiliar to the city.

"Full of questions today Shellie, aren't we?" John ridiculed gesticulatively, waving his hands about enthusiastically.

"It's an orphanage." Smiled Paul sincerely, showing a lot more sympathy towards the poor oblivious girl of Liverpool than John had. "John's a little pervert and often jumps the gate to 'observe' the girls there." He added, covering my face with his hands, as though to protect me from John's repulsive hobbies.

"I would expect that from you Lennon." I teased, shoving him tenderly aside, so Paul and I could make our way to first period. "What a peeping Tom."

***

"Now tell me Paul." I smiled, wrapping my tartan, red scarf around his neck whilst I played with his floppy hair. "What was it you were going to tell me?"

"Oh." He remembered, stopping by window of a classroom, readjusting his luscious hair to flop perfectly above his doe eyes through the reflection of the glass. "It's about me and the lads."

"What about you all?" I giggled frivolously, playing with the collar of his leather jacket as he wrapped his arms around my waist engagingly.

"Well you see," he sighed. "We're off to Blackpool for a couple of days."

"Really?" I gasped, taken aback by the sudden news. "When do you leave?"

"After school..." He choked, stroking my cheek apologetically. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you until now."

"Why didn't you?" I queried.

I really was full of questions today, though to be fair, some notice of this sudden trip to Blackpool before hand would have been appreciated.

"I didn't want you to get your knickers in a twist." He chuckled softly.

"Too late." I laughed. "What are you doing down there?"

"We're just trying to sort some stuff out with the band down there; gigs and what not." He said blankly.

It was then I realised, Christmas wasn't too far from now, only next week.

"Will you be back in time for Christmas?" I begged him, my hands clutching his shoulders in desperation.

I'd truly been looking forward to Christmas with Paul. The two of us perched on my old sofa beside the warm, toasty fire, mugs of steaming hot chocolate at hand, as the delicate flakes of snow would fall gracefully to the ground outside in the cold. The long walks we would take in the powdery, snowy, white park; our very own winter wonderland.

"Don't worry." He smiled comfortingly, lifting my chin gently with the tips of his fingers. "I'll be back for Christmas; I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Good." I said at ease, resting my fretted head upon his shoulder, embracing the sense of serenity he gave me.

"I'll miss you." He said, running his hands agilely through my hair, massaging my head tranquilly. "I'll think about you every second we're apart."

"I already do." I laughed lightly, wrapping my arms around his neck for another of his endearing hugs.