That Boy (Book 1)

Chapter 5

Eye its eh new chapter of teh story for ya.

I know I know, I called Paul McCartney a mother fucker but YOU KNOW WHAT?!

I don't care :P

ENJOY!!!!!

Chapter 5: Changes that happened

I sat on a leather couch, stretching the full length of the train room. The window was shut tightly and I continued to stare out of the glass. My jean covered legs stretched across to the other couch, directly across the small room. Outside, the world was different from New York.

We passed tons of trees and such. No huge buildings towering over everything, no air that smelled of car exhaust, peacefulness. Everything's was so much different.

And so was I.

When we moved to New York City in '52, the first thing I did was get rid of my glasses. I explained to my mom I didn't need them, and she finally let me go without them. Then I got braces when I turned 12 and straightened my teeth up pretty well. Which I was very glad for.

Then I got into a lot of sports, or at least the ones girls could get into, and slimmed up. When I turned 16, or just about, my hair began to change to a more and more blonde color, until it was fully blonde. I went to The Art Institute for New York City and got a degree in art.

I began painting all sorts of things. People, places, things and more, if there are anymore. Some of the paints sold for a good price.

The saddest thing that happened to me was that in 61, my mother got extremely sick and eventually died. Yeah, it was pretty sad. I still miss her but I know going back to England would be good for me, to help me grief less.

I finally left my thoughts about the last ten years and continued. More memories flooded into me as I looked outside the train room. I thought about my old school and how I sucked at everything, my old friends like Lillian and how we hung out, and Paul.

My mind wondered with the thought of seeing him again. Would he look like how I thought he would? Is he still fat and short? Does he still hate me? Do I still hate him?

The last one I could answer. No, I didn't hate him. That was so long ago. Now I didn't like him, but hate is such a strong word. But I just gave up on that thought and moved on.

Then the door slid open and a guy, about my age not sure, walked in. He slid the door shut again and sat down just diagonally from me. I pulled my feet from the couch, and looked at the boy with a confusion. He kept his eyes downward.

"Hello." I gave a present smile, trying to seem kind. He looked up. Something was familiar about him. I couldn't put my finger on it. I thought about people I knew in Liverpool. This boy was thin, and kinda cute. His face wasn't like a chipmunk's. That made me laugh a little, memories.

"What's so funny?" He looked confused and questioned my laugh. The boy moved over next to me. He placed his head in his hand and looked at me through hazel eyes.

"Oh," I was surprised at his curiosity in me, "Just memories about Liverpool." He nodded and looked forward. I placed my feet back on the couch. He looked confused again about me.

"Are you from America?" He asked again.

"Well," I started, "I have lived there for close to 10 years." I realized I lost most of my Liverpool accent. Made me a little sad but that's ok.

"I could tell by the accent. And the cloths." I shrugged and went back to the window. I usually wore jeans, unlike most girls who wore skirts. And I wore t-shirts and sweatshirts. I usually tell people I am artist, and they stop caring.

"Haven't worn a skirt in years." I thought out loud.

"I think that's fab." He said, making me laugh hard. I turned to look at the guy, holding in a lot more smiles.

"Thank you, but I am not looking for a date." More laughs escaped my lips. A look of defeat entered his eyes. Then the door opened again and I looked over to see who it was.

"Paul?" The green eyes of this person fell on the boy and I, "Come ed! We are going to get coffee." His name was Paul. I wonder...

"Ok John I'm coming, I'm coming." This boy name Paul stood and walked for the door.

"Wait!" I jumped up from the seat, nearly falling onto the ground. Paul turned back to me, "What is your last name?"

"Mccartney." He spoke quickly before leaving the room with the other guy name John.

Holy Shi..