What If

Chapter 21

I had the biggest freaking headache in the world. I was listening to the German teacher drone on and on about crap I didn't care about with a hand on my forehead and my mouth hung open like I was dying. George was glancing at me over and over, wondering if I was okay. I'm sure I didn't look my best at that moment, but I didn't care. I didn't feel well enough to care.

I hadn't seen Paul in a couple of days. I was avoiding him as hard as I could. I didn't go outside to eat lunch anymore. I stayed inside and ate by myself at a table. I made my locker trips quick and rushed to my classrooms. I walked as swiftly as I could home after school and checked around me constantly to make sure I wasn't being followed – by Paul in particular.

I hadn't even seen him in the hallways. He must've been avoiding me too. Maybe he was just skipping school all together. That was cool with me. I wasn't complaining.

George, not being able to resist asking anymore, leaned over to me and whispered "Are you alright?"

I haven't talked to George much within the last couple of days either. We chatted a little bit before our classes started, but nothing beyond that. I was sure he knew everything. Paul told that boy everything. I hadn't gone to his house since before the kiss. I didn't feel up to it anyway. I didn't want to sit in George's bed, discussing Paul's intrusion of my lips, which would probably happen if I went over. That was the last thing I wanted to think about.

I took a deep breath and whispered back like a pissed off snake "Yes. I'm fine."

The bell then rang, sending my headache into maximum overdrive, nearly splitting my head open with its abrasive screech, like nails on a chalkboard. I gritted my teeth and held onto my head tightly, twitching my left eye. The rustle and tussle of everyone getting up, chairs squeaking and scratching against the floor, sudden bursts of loud conversations and laughter, and the thunderous echo of students' feet stomping across the floor as they left didn't help my headache one bit.

George kept his eyes on me while he packed up his stuff. He then stood over my desk with a concerned expression on his face. "Are you sure you're alright?" he asked again, his voice of normal volume. That didn't help my headache either.

I sighed, finally picking up my stuff now that there were so few people that I could actually think. "Yeah," I answered, standing from my desk. "I just have a headache."

"Oh," George said, not really knowing what to say or how to help. "I'm sorry. Do you need anything?"

"No. I'm just gonna suffer." I walked out quickly, not paying attention to George for a second longer. My brain was in too much pain to care about politeness.

I went straight to my locker and threw all of the books I wouldn't need in and took the ones I would need out and shoved them into my bag. I was happier than the happiest of clowns just to get out of that school for the day. I needed aspirin and sleep. But mostly sleep.

I went outside and walked as rapidly as possible to avoid Paul or anyone else really. I was not feeling well and just wanted to be away from everyone until my head felt better.

"Hey, Colleen!" a voice yelled, practically shattering my already fragile skull.

Annoyed and head throbbing, I looked over my shoulder and saw John Lennon running up to meet me. I rolled my eyes and kept walking forward. I knew John and I were on good terms right now, but I was not up to dealing with him at the moment. I had had a rough day and wanted nothing more than to go home.

"What do you want, John?" I asked with a rather rude tone as he caught up to me.

He frowned as he walked with me, noticing my bad attitude. "Whoa, someone's in a bad mood," he said, putting his right hand in his pocket.

I shook my head and rubbed my forehead, trying to relieve some of the pain. It was like a drill in one ear and a drill in the other ear and they were meeting in the middle. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be mean. I just have the biggest fucking headache in the world."

Completely ignoring my discomfort, he continued "Oh, well, I'm moving out of Mimi's and into an apartment with Stu. I was wonderin' if ya wanted to help me move out my stuff. Mimi's out this afternoon so it would just be the two of us." That last sentence came out very suggestively and with a smirk.

Normally, I would've just ignored the advance, but I was no mood to deal with his bullshit. "Look, John," I said, speeding up a bit to outwalk him. "I'm sorry, but my head is killing me. I'm just going to go home, take some aspirin, and go to sleep or 'catch some kip' as you people say."

He wouldn't give up: not that easily. He sped up in front of me and walked backwards to talk to me. "Well, since we had such a great time the other night, I was thinking maybe some night soon I could take you out to dinner. You know, at some little restaurant. Nothing too fancy. Just a diner or a bar or something like that."

I stopped in my tracks and glared at him menacingly. Unbelievable, I thought. "Why would I go out with you?" I asked rather coldly in a raised voice.

His eyes shifted around like the answer should've been obvious. "Why wouldn't you?" he asked.

"You have a girlfriend!" I screamed at him. I pushed past him roughly and continued my walk home. All of this screaming at boys was exhausting me beyond belief.

He followed close behind me. "She doesn't have to know!"

His arrogance and ignorance was making me literally twitch. I spun around quickly to look at him and ranted "I. Would never. Date. A guy. Who already has a girlfriend. I'm not that kind of girl. And you would treat her like this? Shame on you, Lennon! You're a jerk! I would never go out with you!" I turned back around and walked away again.

"It's just dinner! What's the big deal?"

I spun around again and poked him in the sternum. "It's a date, John, and you're already dating someone. Why don't you take your girlfriend out to dinner? I'm sure she would love it!"

He brushed off my statement like it was a ridiculous thought. "I take her out all the time. I wanna take you out now."

"Well, I'm not going, so you can shove it!"

I left him standing there, much like I did to Paul, confused and hurt. The way they treat women, they deserve it. The yelling doubled my headache to the point where it felt like my skull had cracked open and my melted brain was oozing out of it tediously slowly.