When Beatle Met Lennon // h.s

Chapter Three - When She Loved Me

Three - When She Loved Me

“NO, you whale!”

“Why not? It looks so cool!” I exclaim, and then pause. “Hang on; did you just call me a whale?” I say, though obviously he did, I was just giving him a chance to fix his error.

“Yes, I did. And I’m not going on that monstrosity, either.” He states with finality, clearly not seeing the opening I had given him, and pointing at the rollercoaster I had been trying to get him on.

 I wait a few seconds and have to stifle a giggle when he finally processes what he had said. His eyes go wide and he looks at me in horror. I put a scowl on my face and cross my arms, tapping my foot lightly on the pavement for affect. He fumbles with his words trying to find the words to make this right.

“NO! What I meant was – wait no, I didn’t mean to call you a whale, I just –” I cut him off with a snort, trying to hold in my giggles. I fail. Epically. When I snort his head snaps up to my face and the look of puzzlement does me in. I start giggling, which then stumbles into laughing, which then falls into silent laughing. At one point I’m laughing hard enough to the extent where I can’t breathe, so I drag in a huge breath. The problem with this is, it sounds like I’m attempting to imitate a seal of some sort which for some reason or another sets me off again.

I’m laughing not because of Beatles’ facial expression; though it was quite funny because of his outfit, but because when you truly laugh at something you’ll find other things hilarious which adds onto the humour in the world. Sometimes you’re not even laughing at anything other than your own laugh. Whatever it was it was funny, and that led me to laughing like the loon I had appropriately dressed up as for the day.

Beatle sighs in relief, realizing that he’s been let off the hook, smiling slightly at me, laughing like a total loon from my position on the pavement where I had fallen. I clutching my stomach, and whenever I thought I was done, I’d start up again.

Beatle leads me out of the amusement park, where I had been trying to get him onto a rollercoaster, and down the street, twisting and weaving between pedestrians, before he sat me down on the pavement near a strip of shops. The idiot sat me down in the middle of the pavement though which caused passers’ by to have to walk around us, although seeing as we were on the corner they had to go onto the road or squeeze between us and the wall. Sending us dirty looks but giving us a wide birth due to our costumes and my crazy laughing, most of them walked onto the road. This only caused me to lose it completely (again) due to their faces, most of which consisted of annoyance, curiosity, and a little fear.

Forming an idea that had absolutely nothing to do with anything, but more due to the fact that we were on the corner and Beatle looked a little hoboish, I lean over to Beatle to whisper my plan to him, but lose my balance and land in his lap. I look down at the position we’re in, shrug and look up at his face. He has a shocked look on his face but quickly replaces it with a smirk and wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. I snort, quite attractively, might I add, and lean towards him. His eyes widen but then he starts to lean in to. I laugh mentally, guessing at what he thinks I’m doing when in all actuality I was leaning in to whisper in his ear;

“I have an idea. Just stay here and follow my lead.” I say quietly and jump up, walking down the street a little ways away from where I had been sitting with Beatle. I stop and glance to my left where the strip of shops were lined up. I crouch in the awning of one shop, out of sight from people walking up and down the street, and poke my head out. Beatles’ where I told him to stay and is looking in my general direction but not seeing me. I whistle in the way a bird would and his eyes zone in on me. I wave slightly, and sign at him in the way a secret agent would. What can I say; I’ve watched too many James Bond movies, along with others.