I've Got A Feeling

Chapter Twenty One

"Paul? Wha' are ya doin' 'ere?" That thick Liverpool accent belonged to one person only, the mate I trusted. "Your room, now." Ordering him around was my specialty. Especially in dire situations like this. "Can I at least get an-" "Now." Knowing where his bedroom was, I was already half way down the hallway before he called after me. "Okay Lady Madonna." We headed upstairs, greeting his lovely mother on the way. "Good afternoon Mrs. Harrison. Lovely to see you today." "Well, it's good to see you too Paul. Can I get you anything to drink? I can fix you both a snack." "Mum! We're sixteen years old! We don't need your lousy hospitality! Now go back to knitting your blanket!" He tried walking up the stairs only to rub into me.

"George Harrison! That is not how you speak to your mother. I thought I taught you better than to sass the woman that birthed you." Turning back to Louise, I said. "I would love if you could get us a snack, Mrs. Harrison. We'll be upstairs in George's room discussing my maths homework." Rushing back up the stairs, we approached Hazza's.. let's just call it a disaster from HELL. The sight was monstrous. Well, maybe I'm exaggerating a little. It wasn't as messy as John's bedroom but it was no McCartney lodge. I sat down on his bed as he closed the door and began interrogating me. "Paul, what's going on?" "George, I need help. I have feelings for a bloke." He sat there shocked for a moment, hand over his agape mouth. I felt acid at the back of my throat forcing its way up, but I had to swallow it just like my pride. "Oh. Okay, I never saw this coming from you." "I know."

"It's John." He had a knowing look. "How?- How did you know?" He gave a slight chuckle, teeth poking through. "It was kind of obvious Macca. I mean, you always get bitchy when he hangs around Stuart, and you have that glimmer in your eye when you stare at him-" I felt tears threaten to make an appearance at the thought of his jokes being true. "Yer so queer Macca." "Am not!" My cheeks turning red. "Oh yeah, explain the doe eyes." "S-Shut up!" "Relax I was only kidding." That would always be the joke. Just in time, Louise came into the room with tea and several tins of biscuits and broke my spell of all lost hope and endless tears. "-Aaaaaanndd that's how you find the square root in a parabola. By plugging X into this spot here and then drawing a line down the middle of this parallelogram," I could tell George was bluffing. He had forgotten everything that he'd learned the year before. Luckily, his mum didn't notice. Either that or she chose not to say anything. Then it was clear as she went walking out the door. "Enjoy your tea boys." I saw her hand reach up to her lips to stifle a giggle or two. She shut the door tightly then Hazza and I started up again.

My internal heartbeat going a thousand miles a minute as I got back to thinking about it. The thing that made me want to be swallowed up by my own grave than talk about it. "How long did you know? And does anyone else know?" He pat my knee for reassurance. "Oh for Christ's sake no, no one else suspects it." "But how long have you known and not told me?!" I whisper yelled, not sure whether Louise was still at the door secretly listening. "I would say, the second time you mentioned him in conversation. It's all in the facial expression and eyes Paulie." He wiped one of my tears away. George knew exactly what to do to make the knots in my stomach cease. I've always liked that about him. Such a wise boy for his age.

"Come here, there's something else you need to tell me." He pulled me into a hug, it felt nice to be hugged, to be loved no matter for who I love. This must be how John felt. "How the hell do you do that?" "Do what?" "Predict certain things." "I dunno, it's just always been that way." I took a large shaky breath before explaining. "Well, I was going to meet him out for a drink, right?" "Yes, you told me about it." There was a pinch of sarcasm in his voice yet again. I carried on though. "Anyway, I was walking towards him, when I look up and see that-" A lump formed in my throat, making it hard to speak. The only way I could get it out was through a whisper, the tears falling down onto his shirt. "See what? Talk to me Macca. It's okay." He said in a very soothing manner, rubbing my back. It feels weird though, I'm supposed to be the one comforting him. I'm the big brother.