Growing Up Beside You [John Lennon/Beatles Fanfiction]

10. Play by their rules

John swaggered out of the boys' toilets not even trying to disguise how shady he looked. He was smoking no doubt or selling stolen goods or drooling over porno mags like every guy at Quarry Bank seemed to be doing these days- everything and anything happened in those loos. Celia stood against the lockers, watching John saunter down the corridor. She should've known better than to think John was bluffing about avoiding detention- he hadn't turned up to any of them. She'd noticed that his name hadn't been called out on the detention register for two days in a row. Mr Taylor put them both in for a week's worth of punishment so why wasn't he getting acknowledged on that register too? Whatever the reason, she was about to get to the bottom of it. She weaved in and out of the other students until she caught up with John.

She cleared her throat before she called out to him. "John?"

Not stopping to turn around, John glanced behind him and faintly smiled.

"Alright, Little Miss Troublemaker?"

With little interest in phatic communication, she impatiently threw him the question that had been pondering on her mind since yesterday lunchtime.

"Why haven't you been turnin' up to detention?"

"I don't know what yer talkin' about, love."

"Yes, yes you do know," she snapped. "We have detention all  this week in case you'd forgotten."

He shook his head.

"Na, I don't seem to recall that," he replied, so convincingly, in fact, it was easy to believe he really didn't have a clue about it. His nonchalance only made her madder.

"What are you playin' at, John? You're just gonna get yourself into more trouble."

He chuckled for a split second.  "What'd you care?" he asked, looking down at Celia for the first time since she walked beside him.

"I don't," she spat. "I really don't. Like I told you, what you do is your business, Lennon."

"Yeah? So clear off and keep yer sniffer out of it then." He nodded behind him, gesturing for Celia to walk away.

She didn't. As soon as Celia opened her mouth again, he quickened his pace, eager to get away from the girl that felt the need to pester him about his whereabouts.

"I just don't see why it's necessary for people like me to attend. You're the one who's always messin' around, so why should I be stuck in that room and not you?"

She was aware of how pompous she sounded but Celia couldn't help but vent her irritation. It was always the same with him. She'd seen his record book- or dunce book as it was commonly nicknamed- and it was full to the brim with remarks and tattered where it had been passed on to teachers so often. Mr Taylor may have branded them both as 'troublesome', but the only difference was- John went around looking for trouble, Celia didn't.

John suddenly halted in front of Celia and she almost bumped into him. She took a step backwards and John turned around with a small sneer forming on his thin lips.

"People like you, eh?" he queried, leaning against a locker. "You mean the kind of person who argues with teachers into believing they've written an essay so divine, only to find it's evidently a pile of stinkin' shit. Those kinds of people ya mean?"

He looked Celia dead in the eye, waiting for her answer but she was void of words. She stood in front of him like a fool with her mouth opening and closing, and the tips of her ears were turning red.

"Yeh, that's what I thought," he said.

John turned around, walking away from her again but she refused to let him have the last word.

"I-I didn't think it was divine," she stuttered.  It was worth a B at least.  "I just think it was a better answer than expected. That's all."

"That's not how it works here, Checelia. Divergence is sinful in their eyes, don't ya know that by now? Yer have to play by their rules, or else."

"But you don't play by their rules and stop calling me by that name." She shot him a narrow glare.

"Exactly."

"Yes but-"

"Look, listen here 'cause yer doin' me head in. If ya don't wanna go to detention, then don't go."

"I can't just ditch it," she huffed.

"Just rub yer name off the register," John replied. "The daft git wrote our names down in pencil. No name means no detention, now clear off out me bloody face."

"What if someone sees me do it?"

"Then do it after school when no one's around, brains. It's not 'ard," he sighed.

He turned to leave but quickly spun on his heels and bent his head towards Celia's ear. "And don't get caught for christ sake," he warned, through a low stern mumble.

He started to head down the corridor, but turning his head over his shoulder he added, "Otherwise, i'll shove the eraser up yer arse."

Charming.

Celia stood in the middle of the corridor gnawing on the inside of her bottom lip. She kept her eyes on John the whole time, watching until he walked out of the doors and vanished from her sight. She couldn't do it. She looked at the purple bruise in the middle of her hand- the thought of getting canned again made her shudder. No, she wouldn't do it. The idea seemed preposterous, irrational and damn well risky- it had John Lennon written all over it.

Celia thought back to the dispute she had with Mr Oliver and she'd noticed that John grinned through it all. Had she liked that John saw how brazen she could be? Maybe that's why she decided to argue with Mr Oliver even more because Celia entertained John. No, of course, it wasn't, she refused to believe it. If she got caught skipping detention it would only make matters worse.

"You stood yer ground for somethin' yer believed in."

What John said to her a couple of days ago was lingering at the back of her mind ever since. Because she had hadn't she? She was merely defending herself. It wasn't her fault that Mr Oliver couldn't comprehend the argument she tried to make in her essay. And it wasn't her fault that Mr Taylor had misunderstood her behaviour as  "disrespectful" and "imperious".  Screw it, why should she carry on going to detention for unintentionally outsmarting them? It seemed more ridiculous the more she thought about why she was there in the first place.

Perhaps, she could rebel alongside John then- he seemed to be doing alright so far. Anyway, it seemed like he was expecting her too. He didn't give her a choice in the matter- he told her not to get caught. Did he trust her? Not that she cared what he thought of her. Nevertheless, she couldn't hide the crafty smile that appeared on her face and she was already rummaging through her bag searching for her eraser.

****

She couldn't do it. Celia hadn't stopped thinking about it all afternoon. She had been ready for this moment, excited even, but now, as she peered through the small glass window on the classroom door, the nerves were kicking in and she was having second thoughts.

There's no one around, just go in there and bloody do it. The school was practically empty- everyone was off home, it was unlikely she'd be spotted. All she had to do was go in, get the book, rub her name out, put it back and leave. It would take less than a couple of minutes. Time spent contemplating was time spent wasted.

By the looks of it, the detention book wasn't on the desk like she imagined it to be. It may take a couple of minutes finding it. That's a couple more minutes too many, she thought. How would she justify rummaging through the desk to the teacher who would walk in on her? No, John can sod off, she's just turn up to detention tomorrow and-

"MISS POOLEY!" a stern voice bellowed directly behind her and Celia almost jumped out of her skin. Oh, God. She gulped and turned around to face the teacher that had caught her, only to find a grinning John Lennon standing behind her.