And Your Girl Can Sing

Chapter 8: I'm Sorry I Spoiled The Party, But You Did Too

I opened my eyes, not sure if it had been two hours or two seconds. John's slap wasn't hard, but the shock that he had actually hit me caused me to plunge into my subconscious, to ask myself what the hell had just happened. I slowly raised my head; the throb faded, but the shock remained. Ryan was staring at John, frozen, a look of anger forming beneath his features, an insult rising to his lips. "You dickhead."

John opened his mouth and closed it again, then hesitated and walked towards me. It hurt, it bloody hurt, not the slap so much as the fact that it was John Lennon who I had been befriending over the past few days had hit me. A look of surprise surfaced on his face when I stared at him square in the eye and he averted his gaze, looking at Ryan instead. Fucking child. My eyes followed him and he felt it, and then they caught a red haired figure standing by the door. She must have come in with John, she was the one who yelped. I said nothing, waiting for John to look at me again, and touched my face. It was a light slap but nonetheless was a slap, a hit, and my insides were reacting in a dull roar. John finally spoke, but it was to Ryan. "Is that your bird?"

"Fuck that," Ryan spat at him. "That's not the main issue. You just bloody hit Cora—"

"Stay with Jane," John said; my mouth twitched as I saw his hand shake. "She's yours. Don't go chatting up other birds who aren't yours—"

"Fuck off, mate," Ryan said again. "It's obvious you're jealous."

The silence was short, but it was heavy. I felt a heat burn to my face that had nothing to do with the slap. I watched John's facial expression change quickly: sheer anger, then a calculating look, then he stepped forwards towards Ryan. "You want to say that again, mate?" His voice had a rough tone to it that I had never heard before. I could practically hear the booze in his blood speaking for him.

"John, stop it!" I finally said, my voice rising to a roar. It was the first time I had spoken since he burst into the room; he stopped and looked at me, and his look was like glass breaking. My breath came in sharp, ragged bursts. I couldn't believe he could be so possessive. John seemed to notice the wild look in my eyes, and his offensive position suddenly turned slack like the crosswind in the ocean. His voice caught as he took a deep breath. "Ryan's right. You are a dickhead."

Jane stood near the wall, looking tiny. I was still on the bed, vulnerable, having not moved once besides my yell. Ryan was still sitting on the bed, but he looked as stiff as a board. It was like looking at a bunch of statues. No one spoke; John was breathing heavily, looking like he wanted to punch something. There was a tiny movement by the door, and it swung open.

"Stay away from him," someone suddenly said, walking inside. My eyes snapped to his face. It was Danny, looking sober since I saw him in the basement. "Cora, stay away from him. He hit you." Something broke inside the room. Time froze for a moment, and we all stared at Danny. Someone followed through after him quietly; it was June, looking terrified. Danny shut the door behind both of them calmly.

John's eyes flared for a moment, and I really thought he was going to hit Danny, but I saw the corner of his mouth tremble a little. It was something I'd noticed offhand before throughout the last couple of days. This was when he was vulnerable and at his worst, when he missed Hamburg but wouldn't say so, when he would start to say something and not finish. When Danny said, "He hit you," he seemed to realize that he did, and that was what made it so bad. And so he tried to make the most of it. He said, "Fuck you all," and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

The feeling returned to my legs. I exhaled.

***

I slid off the bed and walked to the door, ignoring everyone else. Once John had left, I felt something that allowed me to leave as well. I needed to be by myself. Danny blocked my path.