Foreword from the author;

I previously uploaded a story by the same name almost 5 years ago. I'm not sure if the people who read it when it was first published are still on this website, but after all this time, thanks to everyone who took the time to read, review, follow & favorite my stories on here. The last time the original version of this story was updated (March 2013), I didn't take time out of my day for, half a decade now, to write a single word for my own pleasure. I'm back now because something drew me back to my first story, Two of Us, and I reread the entire thing over the course of a day. Something sparked inside of me. Now, I'm back to restart the story of Nora, and reshape her destiny, because after all these years, I've changed and come to realize that the fate of all of my characters had been horrendous in the most unnecessary ways. I hope you all enjoy this, and to any new readers out there, welcome! I go by the screen name JohnLennonsThighs and I'll always have a special place in my heart for the Beatles.

Nora's POV

I remember the first day we really met, or rather night. It was late October of 1959, nearly Halloween. My 18th birthday had come and gone on the 9th, the same day as John's. Except he was one year my elder. None of that particularly mattered, though, seeing as we hadn't spoken much to each other until that fateful night. A friend of a friend hosted a party, inviting a bunch of older college students as well as the younger "kids" such as myself stupid enough to hang around the grownups. John Lennon was somewhere in the middle, but his demeanor was enough to gain respect from both the younger crowd and the twentysomethings. I didn't know him that well, but I did know of him. Everyone in those parts of town knew John Lennon. He was a notorious heartbreaker, secret poet, and the resident bad boy. If you hung around with John long enough, you'd undoubtedly be labelled a troublemaker.

It just so happened that one of my closest friends, George Harrison was one of those unfortunate boys who received the misnomer of being a punk. I say misnomer because George was the complete opposite of anything generally associated with John Lennon. He was sweet, caring, gentle and well-mannered, as well highly intelligent and mature. The same went for another of John's best mates, Paul McCartney. Paul had a baby face with big doe eyes and a dainty nose. His feminine attributes had made him the target of several bullies across Liverpool, that is, until he joined forces with John and his crew. See, nobody in their right mind would think of crossing John. He was the unspoken John Wayne of Liverpool, but without the guns and American accent.

George and I had come to the party nearly two hours ago and I'd lost sight of him about forty minutes in. The majority of the people there were friendly enough, but I wasn't. I was shy, a little agitated and extremely anxious. I guess I wasn't drunk enough, but the atmosphere was seriously killing my buzz. Most of the time, I was the life of the party, competing against boys twice my size in kegstand competitions and stealing everybody's dance partners. Tonight, though, I wasn't in the mood. There were times when I got like this, when the world would just seem too much to handle, and the usually exciting commotion of a crowd would drain my energy.

Dizzying lights, blaring music and twirling figures mixed with the sweltering heat of bodies pressed tight together made my head swim. After several fruitless attempts at politely nudging people to make way for me, I elbowed my way through the crowd desperately, empty beer bottle in hand. Shouts of protest and looks of annoyance were aimed in my direction, but for the most part everyone simply ignored me, bopping to the Chuck Berry that had been turned up so loud it had been reduced to a series of fuzzy screeches and howls.

A blast of cool air hit me full on as I shoved through the back door, setting down the empty bottle along a long row of other empties on the porch. I took in a deep breath, relishing the fresh air as my head cleared a little. A curl of cigarette smoke flowed from the thin lips of none other than the infamous John Lennon himself. My gaze wandered up from his lips, past his long nose, up to those piercing brown eyes that appeared black in the faint orange moonlight. A stare-down resulted, lasting for what could have been hours as neither of us dared to back down. Eventually, he looked away, turning his attention back to the eerie tangerine moon. I sat down beside him on the cold iron bench, the boisterous commotion inside the only thing breaking the silence as I shoved my hands inside the pockets of my thin jacket.

"Are you alright?"

I was caught off guard, jumping a little as his voice sounded beside me. "What?"

He was staring straight at me, the cigarette that had been perched between his lips now held between his fingers. "Are you alright? You look a little pale, a little frightened, even."

"Yeah...I'm good. Mind if I bum a smoke?" I replied.

He raised his eyebrows before reaching inside of his jacket, handing me a cigarette and lighting it for me.

"Cheers," I said, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke.

He lit another one for himself, and we sat in silence. I stamped out my cigarette and turned to him, "Well...I'd better get back in there. George must be looking for me by now... By the way, have you seen him recently? I lost him about an hour ago."

John looked at me curiously. "Nope, haven't seen him, love. D'you want me to help you look for him?"

I blushed, stammering a hurried, "That's fine," before scurrying back inside.

I searched for George amongst the cluster of bodies, another drink being passed to me by some faceless hand. After about twenty minutes and no sign of George, I chugged the rest of my drink down, feeling angry and reckless. An annoying throbbing erupted in my temples as the room began to sway. A pair of hands steadied me as I was about to fall to the ground.

"Hey, watch your step, doll," a vaguely familiar voice called from a million miles away.

"Wh-"

"Come with me. I'll take good care of you," he said, wrapping an arm around my waist.

I staggered through a doorway, supported by one of the jocks from my school. His name was Justin, I recalled. Where was he taking me? Justin released me from his grip, practically pushing me to an awaiting bed that most likely belonged to the host's parents.

"Hey," I mumbled, struggling to regain my voice.

I took a deep breath, opening and closing my eyes tightly a few times before Justin clambered onto the bed, straddling me.

"Hey!" I said, this time with more force. "Get off of me!"

He looked startled, but tried to restrain me. With what little coordination and force I had left in me, I cast my knee up between Justin's legs. His hands immediately flew to his groin as I used the opportunity to land a hard slap to his cheek. He rolled over dramatically, howling in pain. Just as I was about to turn away, the door flew open. John stood in the doorway, surprise flitting across his face for a split second before being replaced with hot fury.

John's POV

Nora had left me stunned. I'd hung around with her more than a few times, thanks to George being such close friends with her. She was a quiet girl for the most part, but lovely. She had long, curly dark brown hair that looked black under dim light, but once she stepped into the sun, it shone with tints of reddish browns. Her deep brown eyes were framed by long, thick lashes, and even thicker brows. Her nose crinkled when she smiled, like a mischievous kid. I thought she was beautiful, but I also thought she was totally off limits. I'd witnessed several blokes ask her out over the past year and each time she'd stammer out a polite rejection, turning away immediately and briskly walking off. She was timid in most situations, that much was clear, but I'd seen her wild side, too.

At school, Nora was the perfect student. She participated just enough in class for the professors to adore her, but not enough as to overdo it and become the teacher's pet. But outside of school, she turned into a completely different person. At times, she'd be quiet, withdrawn, casting her eyes to the ground when I looked at her. Other times, she'd be outspoken, loud, and to the point. And all the time, she was an absolute wonder. To be honest, she scared the shit out of me.

After Nora had gone back inside, I stared at the place where she had been sitting for what felt like an eternity. I caught myself fantasizing about her, snapping out of my reverie as I tried to work up the nerve to chase after her. I looked at the full, orange moon, taking it as an omen and imagining myself drawing power from it. I abruptly stood up, venturing back inside. Screeching girls being chased by randy boys, the heavy smell of alcohol, cigarettes, pot and sweat, and the unmistakable voice of my long time hero, Buddy Holly greeted me as I walked into the party.

"...the way you dance and hold me tight,

The way you kiss and say goodni-hi-hight,

Rave on, it's a crazy feeling and uh, I know it's got me reelin'

When you say, I love you

Rave on..."

Being nearly six feet tall gave me an advantage as my eyes swept the crowd for Nora. Despite my vantage point, I couldn't find her. Figuring upstairs would be my best bet, I trudged down a hallway packed with sweaty kids groping each other and bounded up toward the next level of the house. The landing at the top provided me with a view of four doors. One was open just a crack. I heard a man gasping in pain as I pushed the door open to find Nora, staring at me wide-eyed as she stood over some blonde kid I vaguely recognized.

"What the fuck is going on?" I bellowed, my nostrils flaring as I clenched my fists.

The kid stopped moaning to glance up at me in shock, while Nora snapped her head back to look at him, giving him a swift kick to the balls, a resounding crunch travelling around the room. I winced as her heeled shoe made contact, the man screaming.

"Nora! Nora, what the f-" I started, holding my hands up, signalling her to stop.

"Shut up!" she hissed quietly, looking murderous.

"You're a filthy fucking waste of space, and you better pray to God that you never run into me again, boy. I will make you wish you were dead," Nora said in a quiet, deadly tone, over-enunciating every syllable of the last sentence.

She spat once on him as he continued to groan, turning on her heel to breeze past me. I grabbed at her arm, but she shook me off and continued walking. I stole a last glance at the kid and stumbled after her, feeling completely lost. She pushed past the people still crowded in the tiny hallway, calmly opening the door. I stepped outside with her, closing the door behind me as she took a seat on a bench on the front porch. I reached inside my jacket to take out another cigarette. Just as I was exhaling my first puff, she gently plucked the cigarette from between my lips and took a deep drag.

"Nora, what the hell just happened in there?" I said, bewildered.

She turned to give me a stony look, melting as our eyes met. She took another drag, exhaling as a single tear rolled down her cheek. "He tried to take advantage of me. At first I thought it was just...just gonna happen. But something inside of me kind of...woke up, and I got him off of me. After that, I couldn't stop. I didn't want to."

I sat there, stunned. She continued, " When you walked in, I felt mortified. I got even more angry and I decided to just keep going, because why not?" She threw her hands up and laughed darkly.

"See, and the thing is, even though nothing happened, something could have happened. And, to be honest, people who do those sorts of things tend to be repeat offenders. What if he tries to do that to another girl? That's part of why I kept kicking him. I thought, even though I won't be able to catch this guy every fucking time he tries to hurt someone, I might as well put him out for awhile, you know?"

Nora nodded to herself, taking in another long drag off the cigarette, still nodding as she tapped the ashes onto the porch. I felt my heart aching for her at that moment. I wanted to pull her into a hug and tell her everything was going to be okay, that I wouldn't let anyone hurt her. But I didn't. We sat in silence yet again as my stupid brain couldn't formulate appropriate sentences to convey all the feelings rushing through my body.

"Nora, you're one tough customer," I blurted out stupidly.

She burst out laughing, in turn making me grin, the grin turning into an equally obnoxious laugh. After we'd both stopped, she stared at me, turning her head as she smiled thoughtfully.

"Let's get out of here, Lennon," she said in a worn out voice, tired smile still on her face.