⇾ 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 | 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐈

Chapter Twenty-Two: Love Advice Given by the Famous Macca

August 20, 1961

John's POV

"You what?" Paul half-yelled, looking amused and alarmed at the same time.

I was lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling. Paul had just learned what had happened with Donna. I peeked over at my window and saw her curtains drawn, the light on. Perhaps she was reading or something. She liked that stuff. I had called Paul over because I didn't know who else to talk to.

"I don't know, I—."

"John we leave in two days, and you're gonna have to leave her."

"I know, I just—." For perhaps the first time in my life, I was at a loss for words. "It just all happened too quickly. I couldn't stop myself."

"C'mon, John, ye just met her."

"Oh, sod off, like you're one to talk, Mr. I-Sleep-With-Every-Girl-I-See." I rolled my eyes, annoyed.

"Yeah, well—," Paul stuttered and I had to fight back a dry laugh. "That's different."

"How?" I demanded.

"You seem to really care about her...like really care, so why rush it? Let it float around at its own pace. She's a great girl, John. Don't mess it up."

I sighed. "I hate to say you're right. How am I supposed to see her again, Paul? She's gonna wanna talk about it and I-." My train of thought faltered. "I just don't know if I can do that."

"Why not? You like her, John. I can tell you do, go to her."

"I'm not good at this whole long term thing, y'know, a-a-and I just don't know what to do. I-I-I don't want to screw this up. What am I supposed to say now? I don't want to leave her, but I have to, and I want to be with her, I just don't think right now is a good time for it, seen as how we're going away." I put my head in my hands.

"Oh, Johnny, Johnny, Johnny," Paul began. "Look at you, tore up over a girl. I've never seen you like this before. You must really like her."

"See, Macca, I don't even think it's a 'liking' at this point. I...I think I love her."

I sighed and the words left us both silent.

"We've known her two weeks, how much can you really know about her?" Paul asked, breaking a long, painful silence.

"You'd he surprised," I muttered.

He sat down in my desk chair. "What's that supposed to mean?"

I looked back to her window and saw the curtains open now, her bedroom door open. I stood up and closed my curtains so I couldn't see it anymore. I couldn't even look at it right now. Paul looked at me sympathetically and I went and sat back on the bed, picking up my guitar and strumming it feverishly.

"I—er—nothing. Forget it."

Paul frowned at me. "No, I won't."

"Fine, you moron. She told me a lot. It's not my place to tell you, but, it's there, I know, and I—." I needed to stop forgetting my words.

"You sound like a damsel in distress, you bloke." I frowned at him. "Look, just tell her—." Now he couldn't think of anything.

"See my problem now?"

"Just tell her how you feel. Exactly how you feel. Tell her that he like her, but that right now just isn't the time for a relationship, what with Hamburg and all." He shrugged. "Don't lie to her, whatever you do."