Growing Up Beside You [John Lennon/Beatles Fanfiction]

4. Who's the new girl, then? (1)

"The moment I first saw her, a part of me walked out of my body and wrapped itself around her. And there it still remains."  -Arundhati Roy

January 1957

(continued)

"What're ya doing?" Eric asked, looking down at John's foot covering the ball.

John ignored him, eyes on the tall, slim girl jogging over instead. Her long blonde ponytail swished as she ran and one of her muddy socks was falling past her knee.

Panting, she stood a couple of feet in front of them, and John took a good look at her face. Not bad, he thought. She was naturally pretty with wide, deep brown eyes, and freckles dotted all over the bridge of her nose. Despite her roundish face, her cheekbones were still noticeable.

"Alright," Eric nodded at her.

"Hi," she smiled in reply. "Can I have the ball back?" she asked, looking from Eric to John. Her front teeth were quite big, but John thought it was attractive the way they sat naturally on the top of her plump bottom lip.

It was strange to John; he'd recognised most of the girls on the hockey team from his classes but he hadn't seen the girl standing in front of him before. At least, he thought he hadn't. It was unlikely he'd forget her if he had because she had the kind of face he'd want to remember. Perhaps she was one of those weirdos who spent their time sitting in the library all lunch. Not that there was anything wrong with the library. He wasn't a regular but he used to go in there a few times a month to pick up a couple of new books if he ran out of stuff to read at home. Though a while back he'd lost one of the books and accidentally damaged two of them in the rain, and they tried to force him to pay a hefty sum for it, so he'd been avoiding the library for about a year. Any letter that got sent home, he'd get hold of first and burn it in the fireplace before his aunt found out. She'd make him bloody pay for it too to teach him a lesson, and that would only end up with John being skinter than he already was.

Anyway, he couldn't bear the thought of spending his lunchtime in silence surrounded by frumpy old women and dusty old books. Maybe this girl wasn't the type either; perhaps she was new to fifth year.

"Well...hello?" She said waving her hand in front of John's face. "Can I have the ball back, John?"

She knew his name then. Funny that. He had no fucking clue what hers was. Saying that, everyone at Quarry knew who John was, and he didn't even know the names of half the people in his year. Scrap that, half the people in his class.

Beside him, Eric tutted and elbowed John.

"Ball," Eric said, nodding towards the girl.

She was standing with her hand on her hip, frowning up at John. John peered down to the ball and pressed it further into the sludgy grass, glancing up at her with a smirk on his face as he did it.

"Hey, you're making it all mucky!"

"What's the magic word?" John sneered, pressing the ball down even further.

The girl paused, pursing her pink lips together.

"I don't know, but I know the magic phrase," she whispered.

"Oh yeah? What would that be then?"

"You've-got-chocolate-in-your- teeth."

Eric looked at John and burst out laughing.

John closed his mouth and pressed his tongue against his teeth attempting to wipe away the chocolate. He didn't take his eyes off the girl as he did it, and she was staring straight back, trying to suppress a smirk. Cheeky bitch. Eric was still laughing.

"Oh, pack it in will yer!" John shoved Eric a little too forcefully which almost sent him flying. He grabbed onto John's arm for balance and John shrugged him off. The giggles wouldn't stop.

"I'll give you somethin' to laugh about in a minute, Son," John warned.

John turned to throw an insult at the girl, but she was already running back to the match. John peered down at his feet. The ball was gone. What? When had she taken it? He must've stepped off the ball when he pushed Eric. John cursed and kicked the stray bit of grass that had risen from underneath the ball.

"I hope those lesbos lose," he grumbled. "Fuckin' bitch."

John's coat had fallen on the grass behind him, but he hadn't noticed. It was still raining, and Johns Elvis-like quiff had started to drop out of place and stick to his forehead.

How dare she anyway? Run over here and give it all mouth. She hadn't even said please. She just ran off with it, having made a fool out of him and left him standing there like a daft git. And more to the point why didn't Eric tell him he'd had chocolate in his bloody teeth? John nudged him again, just for that.

"Hey! What the hell was that for, Coco mouth?"

John snapped his head towards Eric and shot him a glare. A grin widened across Eric's face and then out came another splutter of giggles.

Eric fell to the ground the next time John shoved him.

******

John was seething but that didn't stop him watching the girl. He couldn't. He wanted to, but he couldn't. Any time he'd focus on someone else, his eyes would fall back on her. Especially her legs. God her legs. Despite the clunky brown mud clinging to them, they were nice. Really nice. They were long and firm, and they curved up to her waist. They were the type of legs you'd expect to see on a pin-up girl, like the girls in the magazines which sixteen-year-old schoolboys like him weren't supposed to look at. He found himself imagining her in a pair of sexy red stockings held up by garters which pushed against the curve of her thighs. God, stop it, Lennon. Get a grip.

He tried to concentrate on something else. Where's his coat got to? He searched around him and bent down and picked it up. He felt it- wet but not muddy, luckily. He wouldn't hear the end of it from his aunt if he'd got it dirty. That coat cost me a fortune John and I don't want you getting it all ruined, do you hear? It was all she went on about every time he put it on, that and his bloody glasses. Speaking of which, maybe he should take them out of his blazer pocket and put them on to get a better look at that girl. No- there he was again thinking about her.

John hated to admit it but she was good at her hockey. Proper good. From what he'd watched she was probably one of the best players on the field. She moved fast across the grass, always managing to take the ball away from the opposite team swiftly. With speed and ease, she dribbled the ball across the field, manoeuvring it away from anyone who tried to take it from her. John was fascinated. He budged Eric, wanting to know more about her.

"Hey, Eric."

"What?"

"Who's the new girl then," he queried, eyes on the girl.

"Y'what? Who?"

"That bird who came over to us."

"Oh 'er, that's Celia Pooley. One of Penny's mates. She's not new, John. She's been in our form for five years, mate!"

"Bollocks," John chuckled in disbelief. "You're having me on."

"I swear it! She didn't always look like tha'. Don't you remember? She used to be that chubby kid with brown frizzy hair and proper big glasses. Now suddenly, she's come back after Christmas looking like Bridget Bardot."

John couldn't believe it. If he was in her form; how had he never noticed her until now? Because she wasn't a looker then, so of course he wouldn't've taken an interest. But, they were already a week into fifth year, surely he would've seen her in form. Though John barely looked at anyone in his class come to think of it. There was no one worth paying attention to. Not until now- he could start having some fun.