Go away, George

Chapter 5

(Sorry this is short and thanks for reading so far)

I woke up with a throbbing headache, my eyes sore and puffed up. I felt like a complete idiot, I had only met The Beatles two days ago and I had already made a fool of myself. I cried last night over such a petty and childish thing, but George's words stuck as clear as day in my mind. Paul doesn't like you.

I knew he was right, but I'd only been with them for two days. I can make him like me.

I pushed myself up off the cold, tiled floor and grabbed the sink. Last night I must have slept in here which explains why my body temperature was rock bottom, I was freezing. I peered at myself in the mirror; my nose was red, my eyes were droopy and my skin was blotchy. My hair was sticking up in random areas. Well I looked terrible, but they did say beauty is in the eye of the beholder, or whatever.

I rummaged through the bin liner of clothes that George had given me yesterday. Some of the things I found were disgusting, but I managed to find some comfy overalls. I slowly unlocked the bathroom and crept downstairs. Were they up? Or were they still in bed? I focused on a clock hanging in the hallway - it was half past nine. Surely they were up. I plodded into the kitchen to get a bite to eat and was greeted with four pairs of eyes.

"Morning Caitlin." Paul greeted in a monotone voice as he skimmed through a newspaper. Hey, he'd remembered my name, that was a good start.

"Morning Paul." I answered and smiled goofy. George rolled his eyes while John was messing with something in a frying pan, an apron tied around his waist.

"What's cooking good looking?" I asked, giggling and strolling up next to him.

"That's cute." He said, referring to my greeting. "I'm cooking pancakes, want some?"

"I sure do!"

I pulled a chair from the oak table and joined the others, awaiting the greasy food that John was conjuring up.

I glanced across at Paul as his eyes scanned one of the many pages in the morning paper. I was terribly infatuated by him and I was going to make him like me back. How though...?

"So, wotcha reading?" I asked suddenly, flashing a pearly-white smile his way.

"Oh, you know, this and that." He mumbled, not even bothering to look up at me or really pay me any attention.

Well that was vague.

"Vague? Wot did you want me to do, recite the entire paper?" He asked angrily, finally locking eyes with me. Whoops, had I said that out loud?

"No need to get your pants in a twist!" I spat without thinking. "I'm just trying to be friendly!"

"Well I don't particularly want you being friendly with me." He said, closing the paper and aligning it neatly next to his mug.

Wow. Well that was a slap in the face. Every time I looked at him he was just so incredible but his words stung. I tried to blink back the tears and act as if I was perfectly honky dory.

"Paul what is up with you?" Ringo exclaimed sharply. "You're being an idiot."

Paul just carried on reading his paper blissfully before taking a swig of his dark coffee.

"Ugh, just ignore him doll. He's in a mood." Ringo assured.

"Yeah, don't take it personally or anything. He's normally only nice to girls he's attracted to." George added spitefully.

Ouch. Well played George. Well played.

"What is that even supposed to mean?" John snapped at George.

"I was just stating the obvious. Paul is only sweet and nice around girls who are good looking."

I blinked. Did he really just say that? That I was ugly? "Well I thought I WAS good looking judging by the fact you couldn't keep your lips off me last night!"

John, Paul and Ringo all instantly looked at us with shock. George just went red. Uh huh, I went there.

"You just got oooowned." John commented, breaking the silence with a short laugh.

"Yeah? Well I'm not the one who fancies the pants off Paul Mccartney!" He yelled and threw the chair back as he stood up. "When he CLEARLY doesn't fancy me back!"

And as the other boys slowly watched in dismay, he grabbed a thick jacket and stomped out of the house, leaving us all in a bad mood.

I started crying. Again. "I've completely SCREWED up this entire friendship in, what, the span of three days?" I moaned and while ignoring whatever Ringo was trying to tell me I stumbled out of the house also.