Hello, and thanks so much to everyone who reviewed! :) Here is the next chapter, as promised! As you might have read from the last chapter, this Tuesday is the last day I'll be updating for this month, because I won't be here for a little while and school starts up as soon as I get back from my trip. I don't even want to think about jet lag...

I'm so glad I finally get to say this next bit! I only own the O'Higgins, Larry Peterson, and Charlie Norwood! More characters for you guys! So now I hope you enjoy! Cause this chapter is where things get a bit tense... :)

-M

School was never something I enjoyed, and it wasn't exactly Paul's cup of tea either. I had just started Year 11 that September, and Paul was in his first year of the Sixth form. Luckily, our schools were across the street from each other, so we would always see each other after school. However, the girls' school let out a whole half-hour earlier than the boys. It was meant to keep the boys from mingling with the girls after school, but I stayed anyways to wait for Paul.

It was the first week of October, and the winds were starting to get colder during this time. I was sitting on a bench on the street beside the boy's school—Liverpool Institute High School for Boys—waiting for Paul and George, with whom I was on better terms now. Sometimes we would walk home along with Mike, but most days he would go off with his friends and just the three of us would go together. Thomas was no longer in school, because he was a dropout. It had upset my parents at first, but he got a job at a factory that his friend's father owned. Just like us, he hated school, but he must have despised it more than us if he left school.

School had let out for him not ten minutes ago, and Paul hadn't emerged from the crowd of boys yet. I groaned and tapped my foot impatiently, doing such absurd things like counting the trees lining the street or the amount of boys wearing winklepickers to keep me occupied. I counted twenty-three winklepickers, if it was in your interest.

Often, boys from the school would come talk to me if Paul and George hadn't shown up yet. This was mostly because all of the girls left and they weren't used to seeing very many of them after school. Time and time again, a random boy would approach me and try to strike up a conversation. Much like today.

A tall boy with slicked-back brown hair and a cancer stick in his mouth walked up to me, looking cocky and arrogant. He didn't look much like the Teddy Boys I was used to hanging around (by Teds, I usually just mean The Quarrymen and any of their other acquaintances), and he seemed like a schoolboy trying to be dangerous.

"Now, what's a pretty girl like you waiting around here for?" he asked in a smooth voice. He took a drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke out. Unfortunately for me, the wind was blowing towards me and I got a face full of smoke.

I narrowed my eyes. Most boys who talked to me were kind and just started casual conversations. This one was actually trying to win me over, which disgusted me from the start. "None of yer business."

He frowned and flicked his cigarette to the floor, stubbing it out with his heel. "Fair enough. I'm Larry Peterson, by the way. And you are...?"

There was no way this overconfident jerk was getting my real name. "Amelia Doyle."

His frown was now a pleased grin. "Lovely name. So, how old are you, Miss Amelia?"

I rolled my eyes, looking off at something to the side and answered, "Just turned fifteen."

"Oh, really now? Well that's perfect, I just turned eighteen. Fancy going to the pictures this Friday?"

I spun my head around and made a face. "Honestly? Eighteen? What the bloody hell, you're too old fer me, Christ, even John said that, and usually this is the only thing John's right about these days. And no, you tosser, I'm not going anywhere with you."

Oh. That didn't sit too well with him. His eyes burned with fury and he growled, "Look, I usually get what I want. And I want you to come to the pictures with me!"

All of a sudden, I heard an unfamiliar voice to the right of me exclaim, "Hey! Larry! You'd better get back over here, your mates just took off with your bag and wallet and everything!"

Larry snapped his attention to the stairs, his eyes widening as he cried out, "They what?" He immediately darted in the other direction, running off into the crowd of boys still exiting the school.

When I looked back at the stairs, I saw who shouted to Larry. It was a tall boy around my age, and he was staring at me. He had bright blue eyes, a much bolder shade than mine, and dark blonde hair that was cut into a duck's ass haircut, much like John's. It took me a while to realize he was smiling shyly at me, and I couldn't help but smile back. From the way he glanced and Larry running off through the crowd and passed the school, I could tell he was bluffing about his mates. I was about to go over to the stairs and thank him for getting rid of him, when:

"Pegs! Peggy!"

My eyes adverted over to the struggling figure that was Paul. He was pushing his way through the horde of boys, George and Mike following close behind, and finally leapt over the railing of the stairway and ran up to me, panting slightly. George showed up a few seconds later, catching his breath as well. Mike followed close behind, but waved us off when a friend of his called him and he ran off with a group of his mates.

"Sorry, Pegs," Paul apologized, "but this kid here got in trouble for doodling guitars all over his books, so I had to wait for him a bit." George shrugged his shoulders sheepishly in reply and nodded his head.

I looked back over at the stairs, looking for the tall blonde boy, but he was gone. I let out a disappointed sigh and stood. "No worries, I was just being harassed by another loony. Come on, lads, let's get to the bus."

Paul and George exchanged confused glances, and I heard Paul say, "What's got you so down?"

Looking over at my best friend, I wasn't sure if I should say it in front of George, but I blurted out, "This tall blonde bloke with these brilliant blue eyes over on the stairs earlier; he was staring at me and smiling at me, and he drove that stupid loony bloke away for me."

George scoffed at this. "Tall blonde bloke? Better not be that tosser Charlie Norwood."

My ears perked up at the mention of his name. "Charlie Norwood? Who's he?"

"He's a slick git! Bloody wanker came in my class to borrow something fer his teacher, saw me sleeping and told the bloody teacher on me. Plus, he thinks he's so bloody great and fantastic, from a rich family and all that shite," George muttered bitterly, clearly showing his dislike for this Charlie person.

This continued for a couple of weeks after school. I would wait on the bench for Paul and George, and that blonde boy, possibly Charlie Norwood, would stare at me and smile from the stairs before heading in the opposite direction with a few of his other friends. I would always smile back, and as soon as he was gone, Paul and George would show up. We would take the bus home and I'd always tell them that I saw the blonde boy again. Paul usually showed a positive reaction and chuckled when I mentioned the boy, while George would scowl and keep mumbling on about how he was "a right wanker."

A couple more weeks went by, and I was sitting with Paul and George at a local diner, eating fish and chips and drinking Cokes. It was a dreary Saturday afternoon, and lately things had been slow for The Quarrymen. Ever since Julia Lennon's death, John hadn't called a rehearsal for the band at all, and he had lost interest in playing guitar. Paul would visit him every few days, and always come back telling me that John was still depressed about his mother's death.

That's why I was surprised when all of a sudden, Paul piped up, "You know, we're going to be playing shows again. Every other Friday." He sipped at his Coke while his eyes looked at me, awaiting my reply.

Naturally, I broke out into a relieved grin. "That's wonderful! Christ, I was afraid it was the end of The Quarrymen! Well, where are you guys playing at?"

"Some art school dances," George informed, "John told us the other day."

So The Quarrymen were back to performing, and I would watch their rehearsals at Paul's house again. John seemed to be in higher spirits, and he resumed his dry humor with us. He also continued his song writing with Paul, showing him new ideas and collaborating.

In December we had winter holiday, something we were all glad about. No school meant we could relax and a huge weight was lifted from our shoulders. I, however, was slightly disappointed that I wouldn't see that blonde boy after school anymore.

The first week of winter holiday, I was out one night getting cranberries and a bag of sugar from the grocery store. Mum liked to make cranberry sauce along with the Christmas turkey. I, on the other hand, thought it was repulsive with turkey and would rather eat it when it was spread over toast. Normally I would drag Paul or Mike or Thomas along with me to go shopping, but Thomas insisted it was a girl's thing to do, a comment that earned him a smack in the jaw from me. I didn't bother asking Paul or Mike after that and went by myself.

I had just grabbed the bag of sugar, struggling to balance it in my arms along with the two bags of cranberries when I spun around and came face to face with the blonde boy from the school stairs.

"Hullo there," he said with a pleasant smile.

Still a bit surprised, I simply breathed out, quite stupidly, "Oh, uhm, hi."

He only had a carton of eggs in his hands, but still held out his hand. "Would you like me to help you with those? Seems like you've got a bit of a handful, there."

He took the two bags of cranberries, and I held the one bag of sugar, my arms feeling quite relieved. "Oh, ta," I said with an appreciative smile.

"No problem. I'm Charlie, by the way."

"I'm Peggy," I replied. It was only then that I realized this boy didn't have a scouser accent at all. He sounded more like he was from London. It almost reminded me of the way my sister Carolyn would talk, or attempt to, anyways. "You're that boy from the boy's school across the street, right? Everyday on the stairs? The one got rid of that creepy boy?"

I could see his cheeks reddening and he answered, "Right, that's me. You're always waiting on the bench after school."

I nodded as we both made our way to the cash register, waiting in line. "Yeah, I wait fer me mates there. They go to the boy's school too."

"Oh really? What are their names? Chance I might know them."

I inwardly chuckled, not sure if he knew how much George disliked them. "Paul McCartney and George Harrison. Know them? George is in my year, Year 11, and Paul's a year ahead."

His face lit up with recognition and he said, "I've heard of Paul, he's the one in that skiffle group, isn't he?"

"Well, they both are, actually. They're in The Quarrymen."

"Hmm," he pondered, "George Harrison, though, doesn't ring a bell. Maybe because he's a year under me."

"Well," I began with a coy smile, "from what he's told me, you're the one who caught him sleeping in class when you came to deliver something to his teacher."

Charlie's face was now the color of a tomato and he shyly shrugged his shoulders. "Oh, that lad. Well, I didn't mean it much harm, really. Tell him I'm sorry?"

I laughed and shook my head. "Don't worry, it's no big deal."

Charlie insisted he pay for my groceries, something I protested to greatly, but nevertheless, he was persistent. A few minutes later, we were both outside the grocery store walking back home. He offered to escort me back home, because he felt "young girls shouldn't walk back alone in the dark." We walked back to my house, making small talk and even talked a bit about music. He didn't know much about the skiffle scene, but then again, he didn't look like a rough Teddy Boy either. He told me he enjoyed hearing Elvis and Chuck Berry on the radio, but never really went out to clubs here in Merseyside to listen to it live. I found out he moved here from London a couple years ago to live with his aunt, and his parents and two brothers still lived in London.

Soon we were outside of my house, and it was time for us to part ways. I stood outside the small gate of my front yard, not sure whether I should hug him or just thank him and go in.

"Thanks again for paying for me stuff," I thanked. The air was getting cold and I hugged my sweater closer to my body for warmth.

"Don't mention it," he said with a grin. "Now, I know it's cold, so I won't keep you much longer, but, uhhm.." he trailed, looking briefly down at his boots before plucking up some courage and asking, "Would you mind going out with me this Friday? Maybe go to the pictures?"

My eyes widened. "Like... a date?"

He let out a nervous chuckle and nodded his head. "Yeah, a date. Will you go out on a date with me?"

I hardly knew this boy, but he seemed sweet and gentlemanly enough. I also desperately wanted something or someone to keep my mind off of my desire for George, since for the time being, it was clear George didn't fancy me at all and it was fruitless to keep harboring feelings for him. So I leaned forward and got on my tippy toes, kissing his cheek. "Of course, Charlie. Pick me up around seven this Friday?"

His cheeks were once again bright red. "Right! I'll see you this Friday then. And now I bid you good night, Miss Peggy," he said in a joking tone.

I giggled. "G'night, Charlie."

I watched Charlie walk back to his house, waving until he was out of sight. When I turned to walk back into my house, my eyes were met with a bright light flickering and flashing at me. I had to shield my eyes before I could figure out where it was coming from. It was coming from Paul's bedroom window.

Groaning, I rushed into my house, setting the cranberries and sugar on the kitchen counter, then went to my back yard, climbing over the fence and into Paul's back yard, where I had access to the back door. However, I didn't need to use the door, because Paul was sitting in the grass in his back yard already, flashlight in hand.

"Jesus, Paulie, we haven't signaled each other with flashlights in a while," I commented, pointing to the large flashlight in his hand.

He rolled his eyes and asked, "Was that the Norwood bloke walking you home?"

So Paul did see me with him. I nodded my head. "Yeah, I ran into him at the store and he offered to walk me home. Oh! And he asked me to go out with him to the movies on Friday."

"A date? You're going on a date with him? What about George? Don't you fancy him anymore?"

My eyes flashed with a subtle hint of anger and I replied hotly, "Well, George doesn't fancy me at all, and even if he did, he's not showing it. I can't jus sit around and wait for him forever, can I? I'm going to move on."

"But you still fancy George. And you're afraid of letting it show," Paul pointed out quietly.

Once again, there was no hiding anything from my best friend. I could only nod and hug him. "George is different. I won't deny that. But I want to be happy, so please be happy for me?"

Paul sighed and hugged me back. "Fine, fine, Peggy Sue," he said with a grin. This past September, Buddy Holly's new album came out, with a song called Peggy Sue. Ever since then, Paul would call me that now and then instead of Pegs or Peggy Mae.

"I'm telling you, that Buddy Holly bloke is better than Elvis!"

I like Buddy Holly better than Elvis... sorry if that offended anyone! Now, how are you feeling about this chapter? How do you feel about Charlie? (Larry was only supposed to be in that once scene, but, eh, who knows, I might bring him back.) Tell me how you felt in a review! Express your thoughts! I like hearing them :)

So now that there's Charlie in the picture... any predictions on how George is going to take this? Assuming he likes Peggy, of course... ;)

Boys, are you buzzing?