⇾ 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 | 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐈

Chapter Nineteen: Drunk? Last Night? Yeah, Kinda

August 20, 1961

Much to my relief, John forgot all about everything when he woke up the next morning. I woke to Brian calling up to me, "Donna? It's for you!" and I didn't know what he was talking about until I'd wandered down there and saw the phone he was holding.

"Oh, thanks," I said and he told me he was going to the store and that he'd see me later, handing the phone off to me. I nodded and put the receiver to my ear. I heard the door close before I heard the voice.

"Donna?" John's voice was strained and scratchy and confused. I fought back a laugh.

"John? How did you even get this number?"

"I have a phone book, silly." He still sounded like John, with the teasing air to his voice. "Was I, y'know—."

"Drunk?" I finished for him. "Last night? Yeah, kinda."

There was a pause on the end of his line. "My head kinda hurts," he then said blankly.

"Figures. Ye need anything?" I asked.

"Neh, I'm good, I guess." He paused again. "I didn't—y'know—say anything to you last night, did I? Ta make ye upset?" He sounded confused.

"I—uh—no, of course you didn't." I bit my tongue as I thought about the almost-kiss.

"Well—." He loved to stop talking in the middle of sentences, didn't he? "That's good."

"Is that all ye called about?" My voice began to get higher and I fiddled unknowingly with the phone cord.

"Ah, no, would ye like to come somewhere with me? I've got ta play at the Cavern at lunch and I wanted you to come along, y'know." I could almost see him scratching the back of his neck nervously as I listened to him through the tone of his voice.

"I—." Now it was my turn to pause. "Yes, that would be lovely."

"Ah—." He sighed. "Now I need to chill, I guess. Wouldn't wanna walk around wanting to rip my brains out, eh?"

"Oh...no, you wouldn't."

"I'm not sure if it was scary or just cute that that made ye hesitate," he mumbled. I felt myself blush. "You're blushing, aren't ye?" he said.

"I—."

"I, I, I," he mocked, trailing off in laughter. "Yer great."

There was a different air to his voice. He was always flirty, but never so...heavily. His every word dripped in tease and flirtation, almost to a taunting extent. Perhaps he hadn't forgotten what had happened, maybe he was just choosing to pretend he hadn't, maybe to use it to his advantage? I don't know how he works, to be honest. He's got a wire loose.

"Yeah," I said awkwardly and there was an uncomfortable silence.

To break it, he hummed a little tune I vaguely recognized and went back to talking like a madman. "I'm bored."

"Mhm," I agreed quietly.

"I'm coming over there."

I was about to absently reply again until I realized what he'd said and I nearly choked on my own saliva. "You're...what?"

"I mean—." He hesitated. "Can I come over there? Please?"

I coughed again and nearly slapped myself. "Whatever," I answered, rolling my eyes even though he couldn't see it.

He chuckled. "Chill, love. The gig's in an hour-and-a-half. I won't be there long."

"Yeah, okay."

"Well, I'll be over?"

"Yeah, you will." A pause. "You can hang up, Donna."

"No, you."

He sighed. "Yer gonna play like that? You hang up."

I smirked, full intending to stick it out as long as humanly possible. "You."

"Oh, whatever. If I didn't wanna see you so much I'd stay and do this all day."

That was easy.

"Sure you would." And I heard the phone line go dead. I didn't move for a moment, but rather sat digesting all that had just happened. It was painfully clear Paul had been right about at least one thing. I thought back to our conversation math class a few days ago.

"You fancy John...you can tell he fancies you. It almost disgusts me."

Screw you, Paul McCartney.

I only snapped out of my daydream when my door opened. I slammed the phone back into its place and turned around just as he stepped in the foyer, leaning back against the desk that I had been standing by.

"Hangovers are hell, Donna," he said.

"Hello to you too," I replied.

He frowned. "You're different."

I raised my eyebrows. "I'm what?"

"I'm not exactly sure. Something just seems...off."

Something sure is, is what I decided not to say. I swallowed. "Everything's fine."

He nodded. "Ye got anything ta eat?"

"Not much, but I'm sure you can find something." I bounced off the desk and led him into the kitchen. "Biscuits?" I asked, holding up a box.

He held out his hands. "Hand 'em over."

We went up to my room and he sat in my desk chair, eating and eyeing me skeptically. "What did I do last night?"

"What? Oh, no, you didn't do anything I just—."

"You just what? Don't lie to me, love."

I looked down, shaking my head. "I'm not."

I heard him sit the box down and a moment later, he appeared, lifting my chin up. "What did I do?" His stupid, stupid voice was hypnotic.

"Fine." My words were reluctant. He frowned nervously and I moved away from him, pushing the desk chair back as far away as I could. "You—uh."

"Oh, Lord." He looked disappointed in himself without knowing what he'd even done.

"You-tried-to-kiss-me." The words came out all sloppily and slurred. It was a mess. I covered my mouth.

"I-." He stopped. "I'm sorry, I-."

"No, no, no, it's fine. I mean, I know you weren't exactly...you." I chose the words carefully, looking down. A sense of awkwardness fell over us.

"Wow, I'm stupid," he said.

"Why d'ya say that?"

"I probably just ruined it all, didn't I?"

"Oh, uh, no, no...no, you didn't, y'know I'm just an extremely anxious person so it kinda sent me a little...over the edge?"

He nodded. "But now—?"

"Now everything's okay. I'm a big girl, John. I can get over these things well." I chuckled.

"I don't doubt you." My eyes wandered up to meet his warm smile. Our eyes locked a moment before he stuck another biscuit in his mouth, smirked, and looked down at his watch. I flicked my eyes away quickly, caught in a sort of daze.

"Showtime," he said, flashing the watch at me even though is have no chance of hoping to read it.

"Oh, how I've been waiting eagerly," I said. "Just give me a sec."

John nodded and I grabbed something to change into.

"Need any...help?" John teased and I looked at him, alarmed.

"You're absolutely disgusting, Lennon."

He gave a flirtatious smile and I left the room feeling confused yet again.