Growing Up Beside You [John Lennon/Beatles Fanfiction]

11. Just some girl

(Cont'd)

"What the actual hell, John!" she growled, shoving his arm.

"Calm down, love, don't piss yer'self."

"Why would you scare me like that?"

"For that reason exactly," he chuckled.

"Prick'ead," she huffed. "What are you doing sneaking up on me anyway?"

"Come to collect somethin' in there that belongs to me," he answered, nodding towards the classroom door. "Did ya do it then?"

"Do what?"

"Climb the Eiffel Tower," he sarcastically remarked. "You know what."

"Yep, all done" she fibbed. "Bye now!"

There's no way she was gonna let him know that she was a complete wimp. She started to walk away but a sudden grip on her shoulder dragged her backwards.

"John, get off me!" She tried to shrug him off but he wouldn't let go.

"Get in there and do it. Don't be such a softie," he moved his hand down to her arm and spun her around so she was facing the door again.

"I told you, I already did it," she said through gritted teeth. She placed her satchel strap back over her shoulder. Who did he think he was manhandling her like that?

"No ya haven't. You've been standing 'ere for about five minutes like a twat."

"There's no need to be so bloody rude!"

"There's no need to be such a wimp."

John nudged past her as he bent towards the door handle. He pushed the door wide open and nodded for her to get inside the room, ignoring the disapproving frown she was giving him.

"Go 'ead then."

"Fine," she sighed. "Keep a lookout though, would you?"

"Alright, Nancy Drew."

"Ha-ha," she replied flatly. She walked in and stormed over to the desk. There was nothing on there except a pot of pens, a dictionary and a broken chalk stick.

"Where's the detention book then?" she asked, folding her arms.

John leaned against the doorframe. "You're nosy enough- you'd know if ya had a look."

"Just tell me," she snapped. "Please."

"Bottom drawer" he said, following her in. Some lookout he was.

She huffed and crouched beside the desk. The drawer wouldn't budge. She gripped the handle tighter and even tried shaking it but it was too stiff. Or locked.. Because that would be the most obvious justification as to why a drawer with a keyhole wouldn't open.

"It needs a key," she frowned.

John rolled his eyes and tutted.

"Do I have to do bleedin' everythin' around here?"

He crouched down next to her and she stood up, giving him space to open the drawer in whatever miraculous way he decided to do it.

"It's not locked, you've just gotta..."

With his right palm open, he placed it under the desk and rattled the drawer which seemed to push it forward. Simultaneously with his left hand, he gripped the handle and with one swift pull, he yanked the drawer open.

"How did you know how to-"

"Practice," he smirked. "The bastards just want ya to think it's locked."