Things we said today (completed)

1

"I've never gotten all of the hype about The Beatles, that's all," I said, and my friend Shirley gasped.
"They are all so cute though! I mean, how could you say that's not adorable?!" She squealed, and pointed to a picture of Paul on her wall. I rolled my eyes and kept flipping through my book. She began to play their newest record, and I lost it. I slammed my book down and looked at her.
"Shirley! Stop! I don't want to hear The Beatles, okay? I came here for a good time,and you won't stop talking about them! It's all you do!" I shouted, and she gulped. I could see the tears in the corners of her eyes, but I didn't care, I was too angry.
"Lizzie, I'm so sorry," she apologized weakly, and I picked up my books before looking at her once more.
"Whatever, Shirley. I've got to go," I said, and left her standing there. I walked out of her room, and all the way out of the house and down the street without turning again. I walked past the library, when I decided to actually turn back and go in.
"Hello, Liz. Done with your books already?" The nice lady asked, and I shook my head. I go here so often that they know me now.
"Yes, Mrs. Smith, how are you?" I asked politely, and she said something, but I wasn't paying attention. We muttered pleasantries mindlessly, and I went to the back section to choose three more books. I always went here because it was the section with the classics.
I began to hum thoughtlessly, when I realized what I was humming. That damn record Shirley put in. I rolled my eyes, because as dumb as it was, I was "that girl." I was the girl that didn't go with the trends. I hated what everyone else loved automatically, just because it was the popular thing to like.
Then from behind me, someone picked up humming where I left off. I rolled my eyes again, and didn't turn around. I kept scanning through the books. Suddenly, when he finished humming the verse, he spoke.
"You have a good taste in music. 'Tis a shame you stopped humming. I was enjoying it, quite melodic," the person said, and I sighed. I still didn't turn around, I wasn't in much of a mood to talk. After a minute, the stranger appeared next to me and picked out a book from the bottom shelf.
"Hey miss, are you going to speak to me?" The man asked, and I finally turned to him. When I realized it was Paul McCartney, I felt very strange. I knew a thousand girls would be pissing themselves of excitement if they were me, but to me, he was just another person.
"Wow. Paul McCartney," I said, and he winked at me. I looked at him judgmentally, and he looked genuinely confused.
"What? Do you expect me to scream your name and swoon? I'm not a fan," I said, and went back to the books. He however, didn't leave like I'd expect him to.
"Well I think I deserve a right to know your name, since you clearly know mine," he said, and I looked up at him before just sitting on the floor to examine the books on the bottom shelf.
"Everyone that speaks English knows your name," I argued cockily, but when I looked up, he just looked at me expectantly, so I gave in, "Lizzie," I said flatly, and he smiled.
"Lizzie," he repeated, and he smiled as he said it, "S'got a nice ring to it," he said, and I exhaled.
"I've always hated it," I said plainly, and I thought of how sad Shirley looked when I left her, and how much she would kill to be in my position right about now.
"I like it," he said, and the conversation seemed to die. I rekindled it, I don't know why, but talking to Paul McCartney made me feel special.
"What are you doing at a library this time of night?" I asked, being as it was about 10 PM.
"I could ask the same for you," he shrugged, and I nodded. I began to read the back of a book.
"Touché," I said, and I could practically feel him smirking. Suddenly, he handed me a book.
"Read this. It's always been a favorite of mine," he said before walking off, and I looked at the cover. It was "lord of the flies."
When I turned to thank him for the recommendation, he was already turning the corner. My meeting Paul McCartney ended almost as quickly as it began. While he was leaving, I heard him begin to hum the song again. I rolled my eyes, the way he just strolls around so cockily, I hated it. I hated him.

But there posed the question: if I hated him so badly, why was my heart beating so quickly?
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I love this book thus far.