she's leaving home 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒 [𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐭𝐰𝐨]

VII

the next morning, george groggily got out of bed before molly could wake up. he almost couldn't remember the night before. it was so vivid and unreal. even so, it happened.

he didn't know how to even talk to molly again afterwards. they made out. and then, just like that, molly treated him the exact same way she had all the years before. friendly.

nothing more. and then, she turned over onto her side and fell asleep after a few words from george trying to joke around. he supposed it didn't exactly work since she fell asleep.

getting his trousers on from where he flung them, george thought about how the day would play out. how molly would act, if she would tell anyone, if she'd pretend like nothing in the world happened or even if she would avoid him. the thought worried him.

he didn't want to lose her again after so long. and when she finally came back, he makes out with her and that's it? truly disheartening.

he'd have to work harder if he wanted to revive what they had.

"good morning, george," louise, george's mother sang as she passed him in the small hallway by his door, smiling warmly at her son. she was proud of him and his musicality, but she was a bit saddened-he never finished school, and that was all she really asked of him. "sleep okay? how's molly?"

"yeah, mum. everything was fine," he lied, slicking his hair forward with a comb as she went into the laundry room. "why aren't you at church with dad?"

it was nearly twelve in the afternoon. "oh, i had some laundry i needed to be done... and some dishes and things around the house, you know."

george was surprised john and paul hadn't appeared unannounced for lunch as they usually did.

knock knock knock! "who could that be?" louise said aloud, wandering downstairs with george.

john's cheery face and paul's gloomy one were revealed as she opened the door, but louise was as happy as ever to greet them. "hello, john! paul, what's the matter?" her brows wrinkled as she brought the cold boys into her home.

john shot an annoyed face at paul as he put his coat up. "oh, louise," paul started, sounding a hundred years old. "it's nothing, really. john just-"

"-paul's only mad because i didn't want to listen to jazz on the radio," john cut in, placing a hand on his hips. george took paul's coat and hung it up.

paul raised his eyebrows, scoffing at the man across the room. "you know jazz calms me!" paul replied sharply.

"well, you know i hate jazz!" john shot back.

george and louise gave one another a look and held back laughter. without a word, louise went back upstairs, throwing her hands up to george and retiring back to the laundry room. now, it was only george, john and paul in the small room.

"fellas, c'mon. let's not be rash, now," george tried to get them to quit arguing, but they wouldn't stop. "i'm sure we can work it out... or something,"

john squinted at george. then, without warning, sniffed the air around him. "...you smell like... like... molly," paul snapped his head around at george, smelling his shirt.