-summer's day ; paul mccartney

six

[1955]
🌾
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Paul and I sat in the shade of our favorite tree in the orchard, eating at some apple slices my mother made for us.

"Have you ever kissed a girl before?" My voice was light as Paul and I sat soaking in the sun.

"No-Yes. Yes. I'm very desirable." Paul nodded and held back a grin.

"Oh, please." I smacked his shoulder and he released a smile, laughing at me dryly. "I bet you were a horrible kisser."

"Find out." In one motion Paul pulled my face into him, planting a small kiss on my lips. It was slightly sticky and tasted purely of apples. "How was it?"

"Meh." I shrugged while butterflies fluttered inside the walls of my stomach.

[1960]
🌾
[𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝑠𝑖𝑥]
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I was lying on my back against the warm chestnut floors listening on my Dansette when I thought i heard my name being called from outside. The sun was streaming in from my white framed, open window where I wandered to, feeling it scorch my bare feet as I pushed back my warm, thin white curtain.

"Martha?" I looked out my window and saw Paul, holding up the blue book. "Come 'ed."

"Alright. But I'm going out the bloody door this time." I closed the window behind me and met him outside in my yellow sundress.

"I think we should write each other notes in the book. But we have to promise to wait to open them until I leave. Deal?" He held out his pinky and I rolled my eyes.

"Seriously?"

He raised his brows and wiggled his pinky in my face. "Come 'ed."

"Fine." I grunted but obliged and wrapped my pinky around his. He then handed me the book.

"I already wrote mine."

"Oh, really?" A smirk tugged on my lips as I felt the blue canvas in my hands, smiling down at its childish pencil marks and doodles.

"Yeah. Also!" He almost shouted, his hands behind his back. "I've got something for ye later tonight. If ye'll come by? Around 7?"

"Sure...what is it?" I was intrigued.

"Nice try. It's a surprise. I'll see you 'round at 7." With that he waved goodbye and headed back to his house. "Dress nice!"

"Is this a date, James?" I called out, smiling.

No response.

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I stood in front of my bathroom mirror in an hourglass shaped, short, strapless, dusty pink dress with a matching chiffon shawl I had saved for junior prom but never got the chance to use.

I heard my mother gasp as she walked past my door. "Where are you going?" She smirked and hung her elbow against the white frame.

"Paul has something for me and said to dress nice." I looked down at my little satchel and snapped it closed.

"Ah." My mother nodded. "So that's what the fancy decorations are for." She walked off as my head shot up.