When Beatle Met Lennon // h.s

Chapter One - Stop Doing That with Your Lip, Kitty, It's Frightening

One - Stop Doing That with Your Lip, Kitty, It's Frightening

I rush around my room, gathering various things I would need for school today, chucking fallen items of clothing onto the bed as I go, though more often than not falling over them instead. Today was Friday and the eighth day my family and I had been in London. We had moved over from Australia for my mother’s job, and had bought an apartment in a quiet little street with loads of quaint little shops dotting the sidelines. My favourite shop by far was a small, dusty book/record/costume shop (though it was mainly a bookshop) that was crammed between two diners, both of which towered over the store. There was a two bedroom complex above it that had a kitchen and an en-suite in both bedrooms, as well as a living room.

The reason I knew this was because the tiny space above the bookstore was the place I called home. I shared it with one of my best friends, Mikayla Collins, who had convinced both my parents and hers to let her join my family and I over to London for our senior year. I had first met Mikayla three years ago when my other best friend, Amy Mateus, had moved to London for her father’s company, where my mother now worked. I had actually never really noticed Mikayla before, or anyone for that matter. I kind of kept to myself, I wasn’t exactly a loner but once Amy left I wasn’t exactly the most desired person someone would want to talk to. Of average height, light blue eyes darkening towards the centre and what my mother called ‘thick, honey blonde’ hair, I was a bit invisible to the popular crowd. My best feature by far would have been my smile, which my mother had paid dearly for with three years’ worth of braces.

I met Mikayla on a Wednesday at lunch time, when one of the more popular girls had lashed out at me for how I had been wearing my uniform. Personally, I think she was the one who looked like a slut and I was about to voice my thoughts but another voice cut in before I could.

“Shut up, you cow.” The voice said. The ‘Cow’ and I had both turned to see who belonged to the voice and I was pleasantly surprised to find a girl a little shorter than myself, with big blue eyes that made her look innocent, but I later came to find that this particular devil was anything but. She had a dark shade of brown hair back then, with electric blue stripes racing through it, but has changed it drastically over the years.

Anyway, the gist of that particular ramble was that the ‘Cow’ got huffy and stormed off; the little devil stayed with me for the rest of the day and invited herself over after school. The same thing happened for the rest of the week and a few after that, with me sometimes frequenting her house instead. I grew costumed to her presence and we soon became friends, which tumbled into being best friends. And we ended up in London together.

I was pulled out of my daydreams, when I fell flat on my face, having tripped on the cord connecting my computer to the charger. I landed with thump, unable to stop the blow because one of my arms was still stuck inside the blue shirt I had been trying to tug over my head. Why I didn’t use the buttons and pull it around myself, I have no idea.  The other arm was just as useless, because it had been holding my hair brush, which had managed to land itself a few metres away from the crash zone.

I heard running feet, and a few seconds later the door flew open and Mikayla stood in the door way panting slightly. I look up at her and do a double take. Today she had almost scarlet hair and a side fringe. I must say, I think this is the best colour yet. She had on light blue denim short shorts and a white lacy singlet top. Her red hair was pulled back from her face in a half up half down style. All in all, I think she looks really pretty today.

She looks around my room before spotting me on the floor. She raises an eyebrow at me and I scowl at her. She knows I hate it when she does that, only because I can’t. She laughs and skips into my room, digging through my closet and pulling out an outfit I had had no intention of wearing today.

Light blue denim jeans, slightly ripped around the knees, and a tight floral pink top that flares out at the bottom, it was so not a school outfit, and I told her exactly that.

“Mmmm, that’s because we’re not going to school today, my love!” She says, with grandeur, flourishing the outfit at me. I gape at her.

“No, wait what?” I say, blinking at her, and then scrunching my nose slightly in confusion, not realizing that I’ve also lifted the right side of lip in a type of snarl/sneer.

“Stop doing that with your lip, Kitty, it’s frightening.” She says, whacking my cheek lightly. I shake my head at her and try to find the words to say that, actually yes, I will be going to school today seeing as it was Friday. She looks at me, then straightens up and says, “Kitty cat, you are going to not go to school with me today and we are going to explore London. Let me call Amy and she can show us where everything is.” She says, firmly.

I look at her for a few moments before nodding, chucking her my phone and snatching the outfit from her. I put it on in record time, do my hair up in a simple pony tail and put on a little bit of make-up. As in, I put on a sweep of mascara and some eyeliner. I grab my backpack which I use for school, and dump everything on my bed, throwing in the few things I’d need for my adventure around London today. Last but not least, I grab my wallet and my Polaroid camera as well as my Canon EOS 650D for actual photography shots. If I get any good ones I’ll print them out later.

I scan my room, checking for anything I might’ve missed. Finding nothing, I shut my door and waltz towards the kitchen where I find Mikayla on the phone to someone. I manage to catch the last part of her conversation.

“. . . Be a bit late in the morning so you can just head off to work and we’ll find our own way to school.” Mikayla says, playing with a fork, stabbing various things in the kitchen. I grab it off her, and poke her in the arm with it before chucking it in the sink. I pick up a chocolate muffin from the kitchen counter and motion for her to hurry up. She nods and walks out, still on the phone.

I check my watch, 7:24AM, and look up when I hear footsteps approaching. Mikayla comes back in with her own backpack, my phone in hand. She hands it to me and we walk out, lock the door and head down into the bookshop below.

We say hi to the owner, a small Italian woman called Lina, in her mid-60s. Just before we walk out of the shop I rush back in and ask her if she has a map of London. She nods and shuffles a few things around before producing a small pocket size map.

“Thanks, Lina,” I say, leaning over the counter and planting a light kiss on her leathery cheek. She laughs and swats at me.

“Can you flip the welcome sign over please, cara mia [my dear]?” She says, pointing in the general direction of the door. I nod, smile and turn around, walking back out the door, turning the sign over so that instead of saying Sorry, we’re closed it says Welcome.

Before I can show Mikayla the map, we decide to get hot chocolates from a cute little café that we usually frequent. We order and sit down in a corner booth, where I pull out the map and we go over it, waiting for both our drinks and Amy who decided to meet us here instead of somewhere else.

After we finish our drinks and Amy arrives, we set off, traipsing around London, taking photos of each other and everything else.