What If

Chapter 32

I exited the school premises on Wednesday after class. I decided to take the long way home since it was so nice out. It wasn't terribly cold like it was over the weekend. It was almost like spring. Almost. I was singing song after song in my head. Not Beatles songs. I was getting my fill of them here during the boys' band practices. I was singing a bunch of songs from the future that haven't been created yet. My biggest fear was forgetting the lyrics to all of my favorite songs and having to wait years before I can finally find out what they are. I was planning to write down every single lyric to every single song I could remember when I got home so I would have them always. I would be singing them out loud right now, except my voice wasn't made for singing. Not by a long shot.

"Hey, Colleen!"

I didn't have to look over my shoulder to know who it was, but I did anyway. John came running up behind me with a book, a sketchpad, and two different pencils in his left hand. He was grinning from ear to ear, sporting his usual teddy boy look and greasy hair as always.

"Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in and pissed all over," I said monotonously. I still considered us not on good terms after what happened the last time we met. The no good cheating son of a bitch.

Even with my insult, the smile didn't drop from his face. "Ah, now, don't be like that, love," he said. "I know we didn't exactly get off on the right foot last we met, but that's why I'm back. To make amends and to ask ye out once again." He dramatically bowed like a gentleman giving a performance onstage.

I rolled my eyes and said "John, I'm not going to date you! You have a girlfriend!"

He held his finger up triumphantly. "Ah, but I've taken care of that little problem. I broke up with her over the weekend so we can go out now."

Everything in my body sank at once at those words. My eyes went wide and my mouth dropped open in horror. Oh no, I thought. There goes not altering the future. If John didn't stay with Cynthia, then she wouldn't get pregnant, they wouldn't get married, and Julian would never be born. I basically indirectly killed somebody. "You didn't," I said, the anger, fear, and urgency showing brilliantly through my voice. He saw my horrified expression and dropped his, not understanding that anything was wrong. When he didn't answer me, I grabbed him by the flaps of his jacket, yanked his face closer to mine, and yelled "Tell me you didn't!"

"Yeah, I did," he stated, completely lost and utterly confused.

I let go of his jacket and paced about ten feet back and forth, grabbing the sides of my head as I did. I was panicked, thinking of a solution to solve this, blaming myself for causing Julian to not even exist. My thoughts were everywhere trying to figure out a million things at once. My breaths were short and heavy and my eyes were wide, practically bugging out of my head.

"What's the problem?" John asked, brushing it off in his usual way. "She and I were on the path to breaking up anyway. It's not like I did something that wouldn't've eventually happened on its own."

The irony in his words shattered something inside of me. I refused to believe it. I wasn't going to be the cause of this. I wouldn't let myself. "No," I said in denial. "No, we can still fix this. You need to go back to her and get back together with her."

His face twisted up in a sneer and scoffed. "Now, why would I want to do that? Cyn's great and all, but she was starting to get on my nerves."

This was the normal John, I knew. Taking everything he had for granted and finding excuse after excuse to treat someone, specifically a girl, like shit. I stormed up to him and slapped as hard as I fucking could across his face. I grabbed his jacket again, yanking him close enough that I could smell the cigarettes on his breath. "Now, you listen to me, you fucking idiot!" I shouted, probably alerting anyone in a five mile radius. "You're going to go to her house, plead and beg or do whatever it takes for her to take you back, and you're not gonna break up with her until you're twenty-eight!" I gritted my teeth and tightened my grip on his coat, continuing "And I swear to God, if you don't, I will mutilate your fingers so badly, you'll never play guitar again! Do you understand me, Lennon?"

"Twenty-eight?" he repeated, genuinely concerned over how worked up I was getting over nothing. "Even if I did get back with her, I don't think I'd want to stay with her that long." He pried my fingers off his jacket, which wasn't very hard for him, but was a bit of a struggle for me to resist. "And, love," he said with a smirk. "I beat up guys three times the size of you all the time. Ya wouldn't be able to do a thing." He raised his right hand and tenderly stroked my cheek with his thumb. "Though I think it's cute that ya think ya can."

I pulled my face away roughly, glaring at him all the while. He was just grinning, finding the whole thing funny. That was the one thing I didn't find this. "Where's the train station?" I asked aggressively, grabbing his jacket again with only one hand this time.

"What?" he asked, not following my line of logic.

I started dragging him in the direction I thought that maybe it was. "Cynthia lives in Blackpool, right? So we're gonna take the train to get there and then you're going to get back together with her!"

"No!" John said, skidding his feet on the ground to a halt, making it impossible to drag him further. "I want to date you, not Cyn!"

I looked at him with disappointment and regret. I couldn't force him to go. He was stronger than me. I felt the tears well up in my eyes, not being able to take the guilt of what I've done. Julian, I'm sorry, I thought. I hid my face in my left hand, my right one still being attached to John's leather jacket, and audibly started crying. I didn't hide it; I didn't have the willpower to. I was loudly sobbing and I didn't care.

John was worried over how upset I became over something so little. He pulled my hand off his coat again and brought me closer to him, so that I was right up against his chest and hugged me tightly, dropping everything he had in his hands to the ground. I put my free hand over me face as well, crying like baby, not caring at all for the moment.

He rubbed my back caringly and kissed the top of my head, as if I were already his girlfriend. "There, there, love," he said, still not understanding my major overreaction. "Ya don't have to feel guilty about doing this to 'er. She and I weren't meant to be anyway." I ignored his words. He didn't understand. And I couldn't tell him anything. "Ya said ya wouldn't go out with me since I had a girlfriend, so I got rid of my girlfriend. What's the problem?"

I shook my head, frustrated, and look up at him with tear-filled eyes. "John," I barely made out. "Just the fact that you were willing to cheat, means you're untrustworthy. And I will never date someone I can't trust. So just for that, I will never date you."

His voice became a little panicked as he spoke, his plan backfiring. "But I won't do that to ya. I wouldn't want to cheat on you. You're better than Cyn."

"She's just as special as I am, John. And if you think any differently, then you are truly the most ignorant man I've ever met."

He flopped his head in defeat briefly. "Colleen-"

"John," I said softly, not having the energy to fight him at the moment. "I will never date you. Out of all of you boys – you, George, and Paul – you are the last one I would ever date."

Those words stabbed John in the heart, his face showing it clearly. I'm sure he's never been someone's last choice, let alone rejected at all. Through his eyes, I watched his ego fall through the ground into the burning depths of Hell. He looked forlorn and beaten.

I broke out of his arms, through with his bullshit. "Just stay away from me, Lennon. Until you're back with Cynthia, just stay away from me." I ran away so he wouldn't follow me, not bothering to look at his reaction.

Once home I slammed the front door shut, followed by questions from my mother who I just ignored as I stomped upstairs into my room. She left me alone, letting me cool off before asking what's wrong. I closed the door behind me, leaning up against it, still crying and still taking heavy breaths. Julian would never exist now . . . and it was all because of me. And there was nothing I could do to fix it.

I kneeled against the side of my bed and prayed. I wasn't overly religious, but at this point, it was the only thing I could do.