Does she walk? Does she talk?
Does she come complete?
My homeroom homeroom angel
Always pulled me from my seat
In the future, George Harrison would become one of the most famous musicians of all time, and the most famous guitar player of all time. He would be a part of arguably the most successful band in history and would have millions and millions of girls chasing after him, calling his name and wanting him to be theirs. Of course, all that wasn't a reality for George Harrison, who at fifteen years old was a part of a band called the Quarrymen and was fairly popular in his hometown.
George Harrison wasn't being chased around by many girls. Sure, there were a few girls who crushed on him, but they weren't girls who George would normally go for. They were either airheads or boring looking girls who admired him from behind the lenses of their glasses. No, George wanted someone else.
She walked into his homeroom class just then, and George looked up as soon as she entered, smelling her lavender scented perfume. He sat up a little bit straighter and his lips parted slightly as he watched her take her seat in front of him. Sure, she hadn't chosen to sit there. Her last name was Harper and therefore she was seated there in their alphabetic order. Usually he was just content with watching her, and he knew that the if he had ever spoken to her, he would become tongue tied. George knew that it was better that he never talk to her.
Naturally, Joleen Harper chose this very day to turn around and face George. He watched her plump, pink lips move as she talked, his gaze moving from their to her cute, little slighlty upturned nose, to her rosy cheeks that contrasted with her pale complexion, to her baby blue eyes framed by long, dark lashes, and to her golden hair that reminded him of the sun's rays.
"George?"
George turned red at the mention of his name. He'd been caught staring at her, and he didn't even want to know how long he'd been staring. "Uh.. Sorry." He choked out. "W-What did ye say?"
The corners of Joleen's lips slowly turned upwards into a sweet smile and George's heart melted. It just wasn't fair.
Suddenly George's mind was working a mile a minute. She had to ask him something. Maybe she was declaring her love for him. George could see it now. Joleen would take a deep breath and give him such a meaningful look with those baby blue eyes that he would reach over and take her hand in his. She would send him a smile in thanks and then get on with it. 'George,' she'd say, looking scared. 'I.. I love you. I can't be apart from you any longer. We have such a deep connection, and I..' She would wipe a tear. 'I can't stand not being yours. Take me, George!' And he would wrap his arms around her, shush her, and tell her that it would be alright and that he'd take her. She would then gush and thank him over and over, but George would assure her that she didn't need to thank him, 'cause that's what gentlemen did.
"Could you grab me pencil? It rolled under yer desk." Was what she actually said. George's face burned and he suddenly felt stupid. Why would she declare her love for him? She had just acknowledged his existence not even five minutes ago.
"Sure thing." George responded, easily grabbing the pencil from under his desk and handing it off to Joleen. She smiled in thanks and turned back to her work.
George peered over her shoulder curiously. "What're you workin' on?"
"Maths." She replied, releasing an exasperated sigh. "I'm no good at it. I can 'andle reading a book or two, but not this.. This.."
"Shit?" George suggested.
Joleen released a little giggle and nodded. "Yes, I s'pose that's what I meant."
"I could 'elp ye, if ye want." George suggested meekly, shifting in his seat as Joleen looked back at him, intrigued. "I'm uh.. I'm not the best at maths, but I can 'elp ye the best that I can."
Joleen's baby blues shined and George knew he had said the right thing.
