Yo! Aimee here, and this is the next chapter! Already! I is on FI-YAH!
Yeah. Enjoy!
-Aims
Aimee's POV
I woke and felt even closer to Paul than before, if that was possible.
Oh yeah, and he was kissing my neck.
"GAH!" I screamed, not expecting his close proximity. He looked at me, startled. I scrambled to sit on the edge of the bed. The weird thing was, he was looking thoroughly disappointed that I had left his arms.
"What?"
"What?" My eyes grew wide. "What? You were... You were kissing me!"
He raised an eyebrow. "Now who's stating useless facts?"
"This isn't useless!" I insisted. "You can't just go around kissing girls! You don't do that!"
"Don't pretend you didn't enjoy it," he said, smirking.
I gaped at this. How could he tell? Of course I enjoyed it! Paul Mcartney was kissing me!
He laughed. "See? You pretend that you don't like me, but we both know you really do." He shuffled closer and grabbed my hand.
"No, now... Hey, why don't we... Uhm... Go eat pancakes! Yeah! Or... Or waffles! Do you guys have a waffle house yet?" I got off the bed and started for the door before I felt him grab my arm and pull me back to him. Dude's crazy!
"Do you really want that?" He asked, leaning closer.
No.
"Yes. I really, truly want waffles. Yeah." I pushed him away and made a dash for the door. I glanced back at him before running into the living room.
He looked startled, like he thought I would just give in so easily!
Bull crap!
3rd Person POV
Aimee walked into the kitchen where George, John, and Ringo were up and eating breakfast.
"Morning!" She said happily.
"Good morning." Came the drowsy replies of the three Beatles.
"Morning." Paul said, walking out of he and Aimee's room.
"Morning."
Aimee grabbed a slice of bacon from a plate that was set in front of her and thought intently while chewing.
"Hey, guys?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you think that maybe all I have to do to go back is just find that telephone booth and figure out the buttons?"
"Makes sense," George said.
"But... Listen, kid, I don't want you to go..." Ringo pouted.
"Ringo, I can't stay here forever."
"You can too!"
"What about my family!"
"We could be your family!"
Aimee looked shocked at this. "Well..."
"Look," John said. "As long as you're here, whether you're planning on staying or going, you have a place for you to stay, food to eat, and clothes to wear. I don't mind if you want to stay." He looked at the others and they nodded. Paul's eyes stayed fixed on Aimee as she washed her empty plate and stuck it in the cabinet.
"I don't know. Let me think on it, okay?"
John nodded. "Alright. As for now, let's get you some more suitable clothing, yeah?"
"Ey, ey, cap'n!" She saluted and laughed.
Paul's POV
Her laugh.
Even her laugh is different.
It's light, and airy, but full and loud, all at the same time. It's beautiful, really.
What am I doing? I'm James Paul Mcartney. I don't chase after a girl. And if I do, it's never for long. Somehow, this girl has got me thinking about her all the time. I can't stop wondering what it would be like to hold her hand, or take a walk through town with her. I can't help but wonder what it would be like to have her as my own.
This morning, I kissed her, hoping she would return the feeling I held for her, and I think she did. I believe she's scared to fall in love.
The look of her being flustered and tongue tied over me only made me want her even more. I decided then that I had to fight for her. I'd somehow win her over, and that was that.
Aimee's POV
Just as a general rule, I hate shopping. Want to peeve me off? Take me shopping.
We entered the first clothing store and I grabbed some clothes my size, not even caring what they looked like, and made my way to the dressing room.
"She's fast!" I could hear Ringo say through the door.
I shoved on the first dress, which was a light green with a low, but modest, cut. It had a black belt just below the chest and flared out a little at the bottom. I began to take it off again, before I heard John holler through the door,
"Show us, then!"
I frowned and pulled the strap back on. I walked out and stood before the guys. Their mouth's were wide open and I sighed.
"Aims..." George stuttered. "You didn't tell us you were this gorgeous!"
"Yeah! Who knew under that sweatshirt you were so... Beautiful!"
I raised an eyebrow. "Thanks..."
John gestured with his hand to make me spin and I clomped around in a circle. "Happy?" He nodded with a smile.
"You're gorgeous, love."
I smiled. "Thanks."
Paul's mouth was still wide open. Go figure. I walked over to him and closed his mouth for him. "You okay, bud?"
He nodded and shook out of his trance.
I walked back into the dressing room and tried on a few other outfits, all with similar styles. I grabbed the dresses and walked out of the dressing room, dumping the dresses in John's waiting arms. He got the dresses for free, because, of course, he's a Beatle.
I then changed into a blue dress with thin straps, and it was tight just below the chest. It was surprisingly comfortable, unlike the dresses in 2011.
We walked out of the store and I jumped up and down like a mexican jumping bean. "I'm free!"
"From?" Ringo furrowed his brow, confused.
"Shopping! I hate it." I stopped jumping. "Now that I'm done, I'm really happy."
"Most girls love shopping, though, don't they?" George asked.
"Most. I hate it, though."
"Why?" Paul asked.
"Because. I don't want to go try on clothes for hours on end, just to wind up with some new things to wear. It's stupid! I mean, I like to look good, don't get me wrong, but clothes don't make a person."
We walked on, talking about various things, until Brian Epstein, the Beatles manager, ran to the others.
"Boys!" He caught up and panted for breath. "Boys, you have to get to the studio. We have to record some songs."
They nodded and then Brian noticed me. "Who's she? John...?"
Ha! As if! I would never date John, he's too crazy for me.
John sighed and shook his head. "Actually, she's Paul's. Or, he wants her to be." He said bluntly.
I felt my cheeks heat up. Paul looked over at me, winking. The cheek!
"Oh... Well, she can come along, I have no time to find her a babysitter, I-"
"'Scuse me?" I felt my temper rising. "I'm not a child, you know, I might be short, but that doesn't mean-" My voice was muffled because George put his hand on my mouth to keep me from speaking.
"Alright, then," Brian continued as if I hadn't spoken. "Let's get going."
3rd Person POV
The Beatles, accompanied by their newly dressed lady friend Aimee, and their fidgety manager Brian, entered the recording studio. Aimee sat in the room with Brian and the producer, while the other boys went into the recording booth, going off about different flavors of pie.
They recorded several different songs, and then the producer thanked them. Everyone left the recording booth except for Paul, who gestured for Aimee to enter the recording booth with him. She sighed and walked in.
Aimee's POV
I walked into the recording booth and saw Paul's sly smile. Oh, crap...
"Sit, please." He patted the chair next to him and I sat in it.
He began to play his guitar and I could feel my cheeks heating. Then he began to sing.
I should have known better with a girl like you
That I would love everything that you do
And I do, hey, hey, hey, and I do.
Whoa, whoa, I never realized what a kiss could be
This could only happen to me;
Can't you see, can't you see?
That when I tell you that I love you, oh,
You're gonna say you love me too, hoo, hoo, hoo, hoo, oh,
And when I ask you to be mine,
You're gonna say you love me too.
I'm what? I'm going to say I love him too? Since when did we decide this? I didn't say anything about loving him. It sure didn't seem like I was getting much of a choice in this matter. He continued singing, and I'll bet he thought he was the sweetest guy on earth.
Lies!
So, I should have realized a lot of things before
If this is love you've gotta give me more
Give me more, hey hey hey, give me more
More? More what, exactly? If he is talking about inappropriate topics, I should punch his lights out. I felt my blood boil, and I got up. He slowed his playing and I stomped out.
"Aimee!" I heard him call.
No. He was going to have to wait before I let him off the hook. I still don't care if he's Paul Mcartney.
I raced to catch up with the other guys and Ringo looked at me, noticing my sour mood.
"You alright?"
I gave him a look.
"Obviously not," George said.
"What happened?"
"Paul stupid Mcartney."
"Huh?"
"Paul sang your song, 'I Should Have Known Better', or whatever it is, and was going on about how I was gonna say I loved him and I was gonna give him more, whatever that means, and didn't realize what was wrong."
George laughed and Ringo looked about ready to.
"What?"
"You're overreacting." George tried to stop laughing.
"Am not!"
"Yes, you are," Ringo said softly. "Paul is really infatuated by you. You should give him a chance."
"And why should I?" I asked, stubbornly. "I'm just this week's object of affection, next week it'll be some other girl."
"You're different."
"How so?"
"He has never gone after a girl this long."
"It's been a day, Rings."
"Yeah, but still." He shrugged.
"I doubt he really cares." I said, trying not to show my disappointment.
"Oh, he does."
I scoffed. "If he cared, he wouldn't have sang that song about me being desperate."
"He wasn't singing that to make you seem 'desperate'. He was singing it to show you what he hopes could happen between you two."
I stared at Ringo. Since when did he become so knowledgable? "This is so confusing."
"No, love. You're making it confusing."
I glared at him and he shrugged. "When did my life become so full of drama?"
He smiled and slung an arm around my shoulders. "You'll figure it out, kiddo." George looked at us and realized we were having a 'brother, sister' moment and took off claiming he had to go find John.
I sighed. I then got a pang of home sickness. Rilee and Ringo were so much alike. I missed Riles and his crazy inventions. I missed him always teasing me.
Suddenly, the problems with Paul were replaced with a voice in my head saying, 'Go home...'
"I want to go home." I said out loud. Ringo dropped his arm from around me.
"What?"
"I want to go home. I miss my brother, I miss my dad, I miss my best friends..." I rambled on and Ringo scowled. "Please, Ringo. You have to help me get back home."
He frowned. "I don't want you to go."
"I know, trust me, if there was some way I could have both ways, I would! But I can't do that. I want to-" I took a breath in and slowed my fast paced speaking. "I have to go home."
He nodded. "Alright. But only 'cause I love ya, kid."
He grabbed my hand and pulled me out by the telephone booths.
"This is where it was."
I searched the telephone booths, looking for the one that had buttons and gadgets. I finally found it and turned to face Ringo. He looked as if he were trying not to cry.
"Rings..." I tried to blink back tears, but they fell anyway.
I felt so bad. And not only was I responsible for his heartbreak, but I was for mine as well. In such a short amount of time, I had grown to love these guys. I felt, now that I was going home, like when I said goodbye to my mom. I'd never get to see them again.
"Ringo, I'm going to miss you so much."
He nodded and sniffed. "I'll miss you too. So will the other guys. Especially Paul."
That's another thing. I felt awful for just leaving Paul sitting there. I hated that I couldn't tell him what I really felt. Then again, why couldn't I tell him how I felt?
It doesn't matter anymore, I told myself.
"Bye Rings..." I hugged him tightly.
He hugged back. "Take care, kiddo."
I pulled away and stepped inside the telephone booth, punching in '2011' and hitting the big green 'Go' button.
I felt another earthquake, and bashed my head -once a freaking gain- and everything went pitch black.
Goodbye, 1964... I hope I made the right choice.
