A/N: Hey everyone! All I can say is wow! Thank you for all the reviews! They are greatly appreciated and make me very happy and excited to continue this story! I like answering each review personally so for all of those people who reviewed anonymously, thank you! I'm posting this today because I won't be back until Sunday. So here we go, without further ado, chapter two!
Disclaimer: Honestly? Must I even say it? *sigh* No, I don't own anything to do with Across The Universe or The Beatles.
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In My Life….Stuff Happens: Chapter 2: Dinner and Other Fun Stuff
Click. Whoosh. Click. Whoosh. Click. Whoosh. Click. Whoosh.
I wasn't sure how long I was sitting on the couch for, flicking the Zippo lighter I found on the table on and off. It was pitiful. Was I that bored that I had to resort to a lighter to amuse me? Dear God, I must actually be loosing it. I threw the sleek silver lighter back on the table and looked at the clock above the fireplace.
4:55 PM.
"Bastard," I muttered at it and turned away, twisting my body around to lie down on the couch. My head was on one arm and my toes hardly reached the other one. Damn, I was so freaking short.
I closed my eyes and I was drifting into sleep peacefully, the quiet room being really tranquil. I was drifting and drifting, feeling so nice and calm and…
BRRINNNNGGGG!
"AHH!" I screamed and jumped, falling off the couch in the process. I looked around wildly for a second; being half-awake made me confused and I didn't know what was happening. After a few more seconds, I realized it was the phone shrilly ringing like a screaming banshee and I grabbed it just to shut it up. "What?" I growled into the receiver.
I was greeted with a laugh. "Well aren't we happy?" I felt myself soften a little.
"Oh… uh… hi Paul," I muttered, my heart racing for other reasons now. I twisted myself from the phone cord that somehow wrapped itself around my arm and sat back on the couch. I rubbed my leg where it had connected with in the table during my not-so-graceful fall.
"Just decided to give you a ring," came his cheerful voice. I had to smile a little. "Me and the lads'll be back soon. We- what? Hold on." I could hear him put the receiver away from himself and talk to someone else. He came back a few seconds later. "Oh- uh- John wants to speak to you."
"Umm.. Ok," I said. My heart began racing as soon as he came on. Damn, sometimes I could be such a girl!
"Miss me?" John asked. I could practically see the grin on his face. I forced myself not to sound all crushy and girlie and lovey-dovey.
"What can I help you with, John?" I asked coolly. Part of me couldn't believe I was talking so nonchalantly with him. But the irritated and bored part of me that had been sitting alone in this small house for nearly five hours got the better of me.
"We've decided to buy you some clothes," John said. He had taken on a posh accent and was stifling a few chuckles. "What do you prefer, my dear?"
I shook my head but it was becoming harder not to smile. "Well some pants would be nice. Running shoes wouldn't hurt."
John laughed and it sounded funny through the receiver. "Girls don't dress like that," he said.
"What the hell do you mean 'girls don't dress like that'?" I screeched through the receiver, my voice rising a few octaves. "I've seen thousands of movies and pictures where girls in this time were wearing pants so don't give me that!"
Again, that damn laugh. "It doesn't matter, then. We'll be back soon. Don't go burning down the house, now." I heard another laugh and then the line went dead. I slammed the receiver down, albeit a little too harshly.
Who knew John could be so infuriating sometimes? Okay so I admit, I got a bit testy and practically yelled his ear off for no reason. But that's just me- I reckon I got a little bit of feminism in me and I can get a bit angry when people- men especially- say or do things that restrict women from doing what men can do. But, I reminded myself- I was in the 1960's where women's rights were just getting together so I decided to calm down a bit.
But if John came back with a dress for me to wear…. Ugh…. I would tackle him to the ground. And not in a fun way either…. (Get your minds out of the gutter, people!)
"OH GOD I AM SO BORED!" I screamed out loud and thumped my hand down on the table in front of me and then immediately screamed. I had smashed my hand down on the remote control for the television. The TV turned on when I hit the remote and the familiar music floating through the room got me to ignore my pain for a moment.
"It's been a hard day's night and I've been working like a dog. It's been a hard day's night…."
I squealed with delight when I saw the Beatles running from a pack of girls on the screen. It was just my luck to turn on the TV in 1965 and find A Hard Day's Night playing. I shrugged and made myself comfortable. What's better than watching the Beatles on TV while I waited for the Beatles to come back home? Ahh… sometimes life can be that good.
…
"Oh by all means, I'd be quite prepared for that eventuality."
"Why the hell are you watching that?"
I jumped five feet in the air and turned to look behind me. The four boys were standing there, watching me watch them on TV. Quickly, I grabbed the remote and shut it off. John was staring at me with that well-known Lennon smirk and he held a few bags in his hands. The others were standing behind him and for some reason George and Ringo were having a playful hitting fight. I shrugged.
"I pressed the 'on' button and that's what was on," I offered as an explanation. "So I decided to watch it. Do you mind?" I turned my attention to the bright yellow bags in John's hands. "What did you get?"
John jumped over the couch and landed next to me and Paul did the same. I hoped I wasn't smiling like an idiot at that moment. John handed me the first bag and I slowly pulled out a pink mini-dress. I think I must have made some sort of a face because Paul retracted a bit.
"A dress? A pink dress? Oh you gotta be fucking kidding me!" I said, stuffing the dress back in the bag. There were another four in there, all the same just in green, blue, purple and orange. I threw it back to John. "Next?"
John smirked, said nothing and handed me the second yellow bag. This one had two boxes and I yanked them out forcefully. I was still a bit pissed at the dresses. In the first box was a pair of black sandal-type shoes that weren't too horrible. I grabbed the next box and ripped the lid off. Lying there in the nice white tissue paper were flat black running shoes with a red stripes. I felt the smile creep across my face.
"You like that then?" Paul asked, looking over my shoulder. I nodded and he looked a bit relieved.
Great, they think I'm a tad bit insane. A giant crash caught our attention and we turned to see George and Ringo lying on the floor. They had knocked over a lamp in their fighting and were now laughing on the floor. This was just way beyond awesome.
"Here," John said and I turned just in time to catch the last bag which he threw at me. I stuck my hand inside and pulled out two pairs of jeans and a couple of plain t-shirts. I couldn't help myself, I reached out and hugged him. "Whoa… easy there! If I knew it was this easy to get a girl to jump you, I'd buy out the whole store!"
"Ughh!" I said, letting go of him and leaning back into the couch. "Pig!"
John pretended to look offended and held a hand to his heart. "I thought you liked me."
"Who said I liked you?"
"I found this on the floor upstairs," he said, taking a small round object from his pocket and showing it to me. It was the button I was wearing the other day. It must have fallen off when I woke up and came down the stairs. It had a picture of him on it and it said: 'Lennon, the sexy Beatle.' I immediately looked embarrassed and snatched it from his hand.
"Shut-up," I said, looking away from that grin. I cleared my throat and focused my attention on George and Ringo who were laughing and coming to sit down, both out of breath and holding each other's arms. So this is what it was like in the early days of the Beatles?
"We're gonna be late!" Paul suddenly said, springing up from the couch and running towards the stairs without another word. George and Ringo followed suit and suddenly I was alone with John.
Here we go.
Finally I turned to him. He wasn't grinning but instead making that lustful face that made me think he was undressing me with his eyes. I didn't know whether to swoon and giggle or slap him. I settled for a stone-faced look and narrowed my eyes at him.
"What are you staring at, Lennon?"
His grin grew wider. Was that even possible? He put on a fake girlie voice. "John Lennon…. The sexy Beatle… ahh…."
I growled in a most un-girlish way and smacked his arm. He laughed and smacked me back. I couldn't help but laugh as we proceeded to get into a smack fight. I don't know how it happened, but we somehow landed on the floor, him on top of me, holding my hands.
"Give up?" he asked, the mischievous look twinkling in his eyes. I squirmed and laughed and shook my head. "No?" I shook my head again and to my utter surprise, he leaned down and kissed me. He burst out laughing when he saw the look on my face. "Well…. How about now?"
"Uhh….mm…wha…" I mumbled, forgetting how to form words. My head was swimming and my stomach was going crazy like there were ten thousand butterflies moving about. Did what I think happened just happen? Because if what I though happened did just happen then I would need to be rushed to the nearest hospital to have my heart restarted.
"How's that for the sexy Beatle?" John said, standing and lifting me up with him. I could do nothing but numbly stare. "Better get dressed. Paul was right…. We'll be late!" And with that, he skipped off (yes, he skipped off) and ran up the stairs to get ready.
I collapsed back onto the couch.
"Whoa."
I really think I died this time.
…
All right so I didn't die, sue me.
The restaurant we went to was a small little Italian place that also happened to be completely empty except for me and the Beatles. Turns out, they rented out the whole place for the night which in my opinion was pretty smart. For one, they'd have no fans bothering them and no one would know about the strange girl hanging out with them. Thank you, but I did not want that kind of fame.
I was a tiny bit pissed off still because I was practically forced to wear one of the dresses the guys bought me. I had originally put on a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt but they wouldn't let me out of the house. So much to my chagrin, I put on the stupid purple dress and black sandals and followed them out to the car in which the chauffeur drove us to the little restaurant.
The cute little place was called Antonio's and could basically be described as a little hole in the wall type place. I thought it was cute and kind of homey. The place had red walls with paintings hung all over them and the whole little place consisted of booths and tables with red chairs and red and white chequered table cloths. Because I was the only lady, they let me pick the table and I settled for the table in the middle of the restaurant. John, to my utter surprise, pulled out my chair for me and bowed like some obedient waiter in a posh place.
"What's good to eat?" I asked, picking up the small red menu and flipping through it. "Ooh I want spaghetti and meatballs! No…. pizza! Oh my God…. Wait, can I have both?" I mean hey, they're rich- they were the goddamn Beatles weren't they?
"You're gonna eat all that?" George asked tentatively. He looked a little shocked. I guess the girls in the '60s ate like dainty little birds.
I nodded and took a sip of the coke I had ordered before. "I like to eat." I turned to John who was just about to say something and pointed a finger at him. "If you say any stupid remark about me being fat or anything like that, I will hurt you."
John shut his mouth just as fast as he opened it but then burst into laughter a few seconds later. Paul followed, then George, then Ringo and then I finally broke and we all shared a good laugh. John pointed a finger at me, laughing and nodding his head appreciatively. I smiled back, not believing that I was getting a look of respect from John Lennon. Considering the amount of times I "died" since I've been in 1965, I must have about 17 thousand lives.
"What?" I asked when he didn't say anything. He was still smiling and pointing his finger at me.
"You're a strange one," John said and I scoffed.
"Great. All I wanted in life was to meet John Lennon and have him tell me I'm strange."
John shook his head, keeping the smile. "No. I mean different. Most birds are nutty about eating a little and most girls I know don't say 'fuck.' "
I smiled. John Lennon thinks I'm cool, John Lennon thinks I'm cool…. I mentally smacked myself. Ok shut up, you're not five.
"Thanks, I guess," I said, more than sure I was blushing a little. "What can I say… future girls are different."
The two burly waiters dressed in white uniforms brought us our food and we dug in like people who hadn't eaten in a week. I wonder if this restaurant existed in 2010 because this food was damn good. Not that it matters though because I live in Canada- when the heck was I going to travel to London for some Italian food?
"So," Ringo said, taking a sip of his beer, "tell us some more stuff about the future."
Oh God. Not again. Are they for real? What in the hell was I going to tell them? Oh sorry John, some crazy man murders you outside your house in 1980. Oh yeah, George, by the way, you're gonna get cancer and die before you hit 60. Did you hear about Beatles rockband? And the remastered CD collection? Hey, while I'm here, why don't I give you a rundown of the next five years of your career?
I couldn't say that. I couldn't tell them anything that could compromise their future and possibly change history. As much as it was killing me inside to tell John to be careful and not go out the day he was shot, I just couldn't tell them. But one look at their eager faces tugged at my heart and I had to say something. I just had to be careful and skirt around the important stuff I couldn't know about their own history.
"All right," I said, sighing as I put my fork down on the table and leaned back in my chair. "What do you want to know?"
"Well," said Paul. "Tell us about yourself first. You know, how old you are and where you live."
"And why you love us so much," John added with that grin I was becoming used to.
I stuck my tongue out at him and began. "Well…. I'm 19. I'm going to be 20 later in the year. Well- in the 2010 year…. Anyway- I live in Canada and I go to college. It's pretty fun there. I live at home with my parents and… yeah…. I don't know what else. Usually at this point when describing myself, I'd add, I'm a Beatles freak and they are my favourite band and I live in the past and so on and so forth. "
"You live in the past?" George asked. "What do you mean?" He had such an earnest look to him- like a sweet puppy dog. He was so cute!
I laughed. "Well…. Before coming here…. Where I'm actually living in the past, I basically just listened to all the old music. Buddy Holly, Eddie Cochran, you guys, Elvis and all those people. That's me- I'm kinda like an oldies rocker-hippie."
They all nodded and muttered their "wows" and "fab's". John looked especially intrigued, just as I knew he would. They had actually lived in the '50s where this music was popular and they were the band making the music that I loved so much. It was weird but it was also an indescribable kind of cool. I wouldn't- couldn't- ask for anything better than this.
"What else?" I asked, eager to move on the conversation. I could only take so much staring from them before I got a little creeped out.
"What do you love about us so much?" John asked. He had that smirk dancing on his lips but the question was genuine.
I sighed. "Honestly- it's kind of weird to talk about my love for the Beatles when I'm sitting with them. "
"Come on," John pleaded. I had to laugh. He was pouting again.
"Okay, okay," I agreed. I guess it wouldn't hurt to obsess about the Beatles to people who would actually care. "Umm well…. You're music is amazing. It's pure and true and actually music. The stuff you sing about means something and they way you sing it is unique. I think it's safe to say that you guys are the greatest band of all time. Even after you guys were over….." I saw the looks on their faces and quickly added, "I'm not going to tell you when that is but it isn't any time soon. Anyway, even after the Beatles ended, you guys still remained great. And you," I said, turning to John. "You are just amazing. I can't put in to words what you mean to me and to the world. You will do some great things and you will be an awesome person. Despite how sometimes you can be an asshole and the times where you will be an asshole…. It doesn't matter. You guys are incredible and you always will be. Nothing will ever change that. I'm just glad I'm a Beatles fan because honestly- there's nothing better."
It was completely silent for at least a minute after I was finished. And I mean the hearing-a-pin drop-on-the-floor- kind of silent. I didn't even know I felt that strongly and I had never described it like I had just did. I even had tears in my eyes and shivers going up and down my spine. All four of them looked pretty much as shocked as I felt. Paul was softly smiling, George was sitting there all pensive and Ringo was smiling brightly. John- he just looked serious. But after a few seconds, I cleared my throat and smiled.
"Jeez guys…you don't have to get all sad and stuff," I said. "I just… well I just think you guys are great."
For the rest of the meal, it was pretty much fun. We all just laughed and had a good time and I answered weird and frivolous questions about the future and about them and what I liked and just fun stuff like that. I think it was nearly midnight when we left the restaurant and headed back for the small house. I was happy but not so tired so when the other went to sleep, I went and sat out on the back porch. It was a nice night and the stars looked beautiful.
It wasn't long before someone joined me.
"Too excited to sleep are we?"
I turned and smiled immediately when I saw John leaning against the door frame. He was wearing a pair of long-johns and an undershirt. Okay, now I know he was doing it just to drive me insane. He walked past where I was sitting and leaned against the railing, looking out before him. After a few seconds, he turned and lit a cigarette. He looked so serious, do deep and tortured. I think I knew what he was going to say before he said it.
"Is it me?" He asked suddenly. He sounded so low and quiet, I wasn't sure if he had actually spoken. "That dies I mean. It's me, isn't it?"
I felt like someone had just ripped my heart out of my chest. Just looking at his face and thinking about what was going to happen to him- I couldn't speak. And somehow he knew. I knew it because I could see it in his face, in his eyes. John knew deep down that he wasn't going to live a long life and it killed me inside; even more than the countless times I thought about John's death. And even though he knew now, I swore to myself I wasn't going to tell him anymore. I couldn't do that to him.
"Yes," I whispered and he nodded as if confirming what he knew all along. I sniffled, letting the tears escape my eyes and fall down my cheeks. He looked at me.
"Why are you crying?" He snapped, sounding a bit irritated now. He came and kneeled before me, grabbing my hands and holding them away from my face. "What do you have to be upset about? It's me who's gonna die!"
I shook my head, not being able to stop the tears. "John…. I don't want you to die. I wish you never. Everyone who loves you- your fans- no one wanted you to die! It's not fair! And seeing you now…. I can't…. it's just not fair!"
John sneered, his face contorting in anger and pain. "You don't want me to die? I don't want to die!" He roughly let go of my wrists and stood, staring up at sky.
I felt horrible. I knew he would die but I didn't want him to know. If I had been able to keep my stupid mouth shut, he would be happily oblivious. Oh God, I suddenly thought. I just gave him a complex or something. I just made him more insecure and crazy and stuff. Oh good going, Quinn.
But when he turned back around again, the anger and pain was gone from his face. He had an emotionless expression and just shrugged it off like we had been talking about something that wasn't so important. The Lennon wall had gone up. I wasn't about to push it. I was a bit surprised when he sat down next to me on the bench I was sitting on. I wiped the runaway tears from my face and turned my head to look at him.
"I'm sorry-"
"No," he said, cutting me off. "It's fine. We all gotta die sometime don't we? Let's just leave it at that."
I nodded. I was glad to drop it. "Hey John," I said. He looked into my eyes. "Umm… I'm sorry. About- everything that happened to you in your life. You know, with your mother and…. Stuart…. all of it," He visibly cringed but he didn't scream and blow up at me like I thought he would. He just nodded like he understood and looked away.
"So…." I said, trying to lighten the mood and ease the tension you could so easily cut with a knife. "You are a man-whore aren't you?"
His head snapped up and he peered at me with the strangest amused expression on his face. "A what?" he asked incredulously.
"A man-whore," I repeated, laughing at his bewildered expression. "You kissed me, John! As much as that made me die inside and still does make me die inside when I think about it…. It's borderline creepy!"
"Why?" he asked laughing. I loved that damn drool-worthy grin!
"Oh I don't know….. Maybe 'cause you're oh…. 50 years older than me….."
"What do you mean?" he asked with an innocent puppy dog face. "I thought you said you were 19. I'm only 24.…"
"Shut-up!" I said, swatting his arm. "It may be like that now but remember…. I'm not born yet! And also by the time I'm born you're already…. old."
John smirked and stretched. "I thought you said you were in love with me. You know, I'm your hero and things much to that effect."
"Ughh!" I said, groaning. "You know…. In my time, I'm all like 'Oh John Lennon…. He's is hot, I love him, I wish I could meet him. Oh John Lennon….' But now…. Ughh… I just want to fuckin' smack you!"
John just laughed again and I stood, stomping my way to the door. Before I went inside, I turned to look back to him.
"You know you want me," he said with a mischievous grin. Uggh asshole.
"Oh fuck off, John Lennon!" I said and stormed my way inside. I could hear his laughter following me all the way up the stairs.
I closed the door to what was now my room and collapsed onto what was now my bed. As I stared up into the darkness, I wondered what I was going to do. As much as I would like to, I couldn't stay here forever, hanging out with the Beatles. Perhaps tomorrow will being answers.
Then again, tomorrow never knows.
…
A/N: All right…. Wow…. Done the second chapter in one day! I've never written a story so fast in my life. Well, I wanted to post this chapter before I go on the retreat I'm going on until Sunday. I love writing this story and I am beyond ecstatic that you guys like it too! Thank you so much for reviewing and please review again! Thanks! -Addie