Tomorrow Couldn't Come Any Faster

Chapter 15

I walk in to the lads' house, and they're all sitting around the tv, watching themselves. "The Beatles number one hit reached the charts in the USA!" The news reporter says. Though they have been busy, I always go along with them on their trips. It's bloody fun! Paul always finds ways to spend time with me. The boys see me walk in. "Hey Julie! Look at the tv!" "Nice nice," I say, sounding excited for them. There's a cake on the counter. "Ringo! Stop touching Arthur!" Says George. "Arthur? Who the fuck is Arthur?" I say. "Arthur is the cute little mop on my head," he replies, laughing. I roll my eyes, and go over to get some water. I sit down next to John. He's the most calm around here, and right now that's what I need. "So Julie... I never knew that Paul had.. That" I thought for a second. "Really? I guess he hadn't told anyone.. I found out a few years ago when he didn't come home on the bus. Then after a while, it cleared up but then it came back, hence why he passed out today." He frowns. I give him a hug. I'm glad that his best friend is Paul. He's calm at times, then crazy at times. "Julie, when he comes back, tell him to shut the fuck up please! He ALWAYS talks about you. Every fucking day I come in here and says "JULIETTE JULIETTE JULIETTE JULIETTE" like shut uppppp" then, he laughs. I know he's joking. I make a really teethey smile. Does he really talk about me like that? Then, Ringo comes over. "He really does! One time he told me about how you can draw and sing and play guitar and write and kiss and you're smart and you're pretty and he kept going on and on and on. He even said that you knew how to dance!" Dance? How the hell did Paul know that? I never danced in front of him, nor told him that. I guess I can dance a little. But can PAUL read my mind or something? Then George comes in. "And he said that your favorite color was blue, and that you love tilapia or something like that." WHAT THE HELL? How does he know all this stuff about me? Only my dad knew that. Oh great. Does my dad have deep conversations with him or something? I don't know. But actually, I think it's kind of cute, how he knows a lot about me. I know that he loves roast beef, and his favorite color is also blue. So I guess we're both even.
After a while of conversation and tv, John and George take out their instruments and start playing some of their music that they worked on. They play quite a few catchy and lovely songs. I like the way their voices sound together. They sing in perfect harmony, though their voices are completely different. "Can I choose a song for you to play?" I say. John nods and hands me the song book. Under each, they say either Paul, Ringo, John, or George. I look through a bunch and choose one called "And I Love Her" "Paul sings that" Ringo says. I shrug my shoulders, and say "you can song it too, can't cha?" "We'll, Paul kind of wrote that song for you, and we wouldn't want to ruin it." John says. Really? He wrote it for me?! Not that Paul hasn't written me songs before, but this one is one that they put on their best selling albums! Does he want the whole world to know about us? The Beatles just started getting big. This is really sweet, and I want to hear it, but I decide that we shouldn't really sing it. Instead, I choose "Paperback Writer" they sing it, and it sounds lovely. It's even better when it's acoustic, also.
When the night is over, I drive back over to my house, go to my room, and lie on my bed. I think about today, and questioning my self, "did I really save his life?" Everyone told me so, and I just can't believe it. It would've been a one in a million chance (not really) that we would have the same blood type. We were really meant to be, weren't we? Paul means so much to me. Not only do I think about today, but about our wedding. What am I going to wear? Obviously a dress, but not just any old dress. I don't want a plain white one. I think it through. I want a light Tiffany blue dress, one that is strapless and has a really long flowy train. I imagine myself in it, and I'm liking what I'm 'seeing'. I don't want to get married at a church, either. I want to get married on the beach. The beach where he offered me to spend the rest of my life with him, and I said yes.
I get up to go to my closet and get my piggy bank. Over the last few years, I've been trying to save money, incase I saw anything special. I took out the money, and counted it. I had 150 pounds in there, plus my savings account of 350 pounds. I knew exactly what I was going to get Paul.