What If

Chapter 8

I took my math test with flying colors. The work was something someone a year or two behind me would've had to learn, so I guess the curriculum was a little outdated . . . or I was just ahead of this time. I felt awkward being the first one done and having to endure everyone watching me as I handed it in. The teacher actually didn't believe me at first. She thought I didn't know any of the answers and was just handing it in so I could get my zero and be done with it. Hmm, apparently the teachers had very little confidence in their students.

Anyway, I sat back down and waited for the second half of the period. I glanced over at George and could tell by his facial expressions that he was having some major trouble. I guess math wasn't his top subject.

With that under my belt, I passed through the next few classes like a breeze. I was seriously happy when the bell rang for lunch. I was starving beyond belief.

I went outside underneath my tree and opened up the brown paper bag I had brought with me. My mom had made me a ham sandwich with lettuce and mayo, a personal favorite of mine. Halfway through eating it, I heard someone calling me.

"Hey, Colleen!"

From my left came Paul and George with their own lunches and guitar cases. They carried them everywhere. Paul sat on one side of me and George sat on the other.

"So," Paul continued. "What have you brought for lunch today?"

"Ham sandwich," I answered, taking a big bite. "What about you?"

"Same. Well, a sandwich anyway. I think it's just cheese and bread."

"Hmm." I turned to my other side. "How about you, George?"

He smiled shyly. "Chicken sandwich," he said quietly.

I had forgotten that The Beatles grew up with relatively poor beginnings. They probably brought sandwiches everyday with barely anything on them. I felt a bit sorry for them, but I reminded myself of the future and thought Maybe they should've stayed poor. That way, they'd actually appreciate what they had.

"So, listen," Paul said, breaking me out of my thoughts. "The band is going to play at this club tomorrow night, the Casbah Club. Pete's mom owns it. Anyway, it's gonna be a lot of fun. There's singing and dancing and, of course, us on stage and, you know, I thought you might like to go because you'll get to see us in action and you're new here so you could explore the town a little bit more. I would really like you to go. Maybe I could get a dance?"

I was speechless in the best possible way. I was going to see The Beatles perform live while they were all still alive! Of course Ringo wouldn't be there, but I was sure I would get that chance if I kept this friendship up.

Completely ignoring the second half of Paul's statement, I said "Yeah, sure. I would love to go!"

Paul couldn't stop grinning after that. "Great," he said happily. "So since you just moved here, I would assume you have no idea where the club is."

"You would assume correct."

"Right, so how about I pick you up at, say . . . five o'clock? Does that sound good?"

I was beaming on the inside and out. I was way too excited about this concert. "Yes. Sounds great." I then remembered that George has been neglected throughout this conversation. "Are you excited about being on stage, George?" I asked him.

He looked at me and blushed simply because I mentioned him and said "Yeah. We've been on stage a bunch before. It's no big deal."

I noticed that George became incredibly shy only when others were around. He had much more confidence on his own. Maybe it was just because I was a girl and he was afraid of doing something stupid. I don't know. That boy just needed a boost.