Well, after that last exciting chapter, I'm afraid I'm going to have to write THIS one, the one I've been dreading ever since I realized where I was going with the plot. I'm not going to talk a lot like last time, but I DO want to say this: A.J. is just like any other normal teenage girl. She has insecurities and faults like every single one of us does. And I understand that sometimes she handles situations…er…DIFFERENTLY than most would. I just wanted to get that out in the air before I continue. Alright, here's chapter sixteen…unfortunately.

I didn't sleep all night.

Images of the boy that I now realized I was in love with danced around my head, enticing me and exciting me. I couldn't wait to see him today. What would I say? What would HE say? It was all so nerve racking…before I did anything, I figured I should probably consult the master.

I knocked on Paul's door the following morning at nine o'clock sharp. He had wandered in the house about an hour ago, so I knew that he would be up. I was careful to keep a low profile in the hall so that no one would see me as I swung stealthily into the room. His gaze flickered up briefly, then went right back down again to the notebook that was lying opening on his bed. He had an acoustic guitar in his hands, and he looked calm and content. Not at ALL like he had been drunk out of his mind last night.

"Whatcha doin'?" I asked, bounding in happily and sitting across from him on the bed.

"Song," he muttered bluntly. Whenever Paul was working on a song, he would usually hole himself up in a room for hours, not EVER letting anybody in besides John. I'm sure if I would have announced my presence with more than a knock then I would have been shunned. But shunning was out of the question at the moment, because there were things that had to be said.

"Ah. What about?"

He didn't answer, just continued to scribble away. He paused, his mouth twitching, before dropping his pen and picking up the guitar. "It's rough," he informed me, then began plucking out the chords.

An instant feeling of calm rushed over me. It was my favorite Paul song. "And I love her," he sang, his eyes looking down at the paper. I wondered what he was thinking about. The girl from last night? No, we would never LOVE her. Then again, sometimes they just said that. Girls (like me) eat that sweet lovey dovey shit up.

He really didn't have much, and it was VERY rough, but it made me smile nonetheless. "Aw, you're so dang cute, Paulie!"

He rolled his eyes. "I need to know; is this a good one? Does it stick?"

Should I tell him? Hmmmm…IDEA! "I'll tell you only if you tell me something first."

"But I asked first!"

"I don't care."

"You're not even going to tell me."

"I will."

"But you're only saying that!"

"Says who?"

"Says me!"

"Well, that's not a very reliable source. I suggest getting a new one."

Paul threw his hands up in the air in exasperation, then let them fall to his sides with a slap. "Fine! What is it?"

"Okay." I took a deep breath. "How do you tell someone that you love them?"

He stared at me, his eyes narrowed. "Don't," was all he said.

I cocked my head in confusion. "But I have to. I mean, if that's the way I feel…"

He shook his head, a worry line forming on his forehead. "Please, just listen to me A.J. Don't tell Ringo that you're in love with him." He was wearing a VERY serious expression.

"What the hell?" I mean, seriously, what the fuck was that? Wasn't he the one that was encouraging me to take charge of the situation and tell Ringo how I felt? He can't just change his mind all of a sudden and expect everyone to go along with it! That is COMPLETE bullshit.

He ran his hands over his face tiredly, sighing. "I know that sounds hypocritical, but-"

"But NOTHING! As soon as I WANT to tell him how I feel, you're over here telling me not to! I think you would be pretty God damn pissed, too."

He looked me square in the eye. "That was yesterday, when all that I knew was that you had a crush on him. Things get WAY too serious when it's actual LOVE."

"Are you saying he will never love me back?" I asked quietly, suddenly embarrassed. What if that was true? Paul didn't say anything for a solid minute.

"No," he said slowly, drawing out the word, "that's NOT what I'm saying. It's just…wait, I thought that you DIDN'T feel that way about him. I thought you were insisting that it was just a minor crush."

I smiled dreamily. "Yeah, that was before he KISSED me."

Paul's mouth fell open, and his guitar slipped from his hands. "WHAT?"

"Yeah, last night after I got him home, he kissed me." I thought back to it. "It was freaking amazing."

Paul blinked several times, obviously lost. "But…but he said that-"

I held a hand up in his face. "Shush. I don't wanna hear it. And you've been absolutely NO help to me, so I won't tell you that that song is one of my absolute favorites." I stood up cockily, flipping my tangled hair over my shoulder with mock-arrogance. He grinned.

"Thanks, A.J."

I was already halfway out the door. "For what?" I called over my shoulder. Then I hopped into the shower, not wanting anybody else to see me in such a mess. Well, actually, just Ringo. Obviously I didn't care how I looked in front of Paul, and for George…well, I'd seen him in a LOT less. I shuddered at that disturbing memory. And I could really give less of a fuck what John thought of me.

After I was dressed, I knocked on Ringo's door, trying to calm my nerves. What if he didn't remember? What if he DID remember? What if I Paul had already told him how I felt? What if JOHN had already told him? What if-

Okay, where was this boy? I walked into the kitchen, thinking that maybe he was in there. But the only person I found THERE was George. He was bent over, peering into the refrigerator. He pulled out a plastic cup of chocolate pudding that had a sticky note on it reading: JOHN'S! DO NOT EAT, GEORGE! George glanced at the yellow paper, then balled it up and threw it over his shoulder.

I giggled, and immediately George jumped, dropping the half-opened pudding cup back in the fridge. "IT WAS PAUL! Oh, it's just you." He grinned, picking up a spoon and the pudding. He put his finger up to his lips. Our little secret.

I laughed again, then said, "Where is everyone?"

He swallowed a spoonful before answering. "The studio. They left, like, ten minutes ago when you were in there." He pointed to the bathroom. "I told them I'd wait for you."

I nodded, twirling my hair absentmindedly. Should I tell George about what happened last night? Well, if Paul reacted so badly, I highly doubted George would take the news any better. I decided against it. "When are you leaving?"

He sucked down the rest of his pudding. "Now."

I nodded. Of course I'd been with them to the studio before, but only a few times to help Paul with Yesterday (which was in its Scrambled Eggs days now). The last thing I wanted to do was become a Yoko. Most of the time I passed up the offers. Like today. "Go ahead then. You don't want them to have to wait."

He shrugged. "Whatever you say. We'll be back late, so don't burn the house down!"

"Oh, I will," I replied. He grinned, throwing away his empty pudding cup and tossing his spoon in the sink.

"See ya later." He kissed me on the forehead (leaving behind pudding lip prints) and walked out of the house. I wiped off my head, thinking about all the things I could do today. Things that I didn't WANT to do. The only thing I REALLY wanted to was spend time with Ringo. But it looked as though I had missed my opportunity for that today.

George strolled into the recording studio without A.J.

"Where is she?" Paul asked, his eyes glued to the piano. He would have known if she was there, however, because her presence would have been announced by a rude comment towards John.

"She didn't wanna come," George answered simply, grabbing his guitar.

John rolled his eyes. "Why does it matter?"

Paul glanced back at Ringo. His eyes were half closed, and he had an ice pack over his head. He didn't contribute anything to the A.J. conversation. The bad feeling Paul had this morning was washing over him again.

George shrugged. "Doesn't."

Ringo chose that exact moment to topple off his chair, hitting the ground with a dull thud. "Ow," he moaned.

Paul stood up, walking over to him and giving him a hand up. "Easy there, boozy," John quipped, tuning his guitar and grinning. Ringo shot him a look.

"I don't remember a THING from last night," he groaned, holding his head. "The last thing I remember is Chuck coming in to the Cavern Club and me and A.J. running away."

'And then you kissed my best friend and made her fall in love with you,' Paul thought. But he didn't say that. He just shook his head and sighed. "I'm sure you didn't do anything bad."

Ringo shrugged. "Don't know. But thank God for A.J."

George, John, and Paul must have all been thinking the same thing, but none of them said anything. It wasn't their battle to fight.

"We're HOOOOOOOME!" Paul yelled as he walked into the house. I was on the back deck, sipping some lemonade from a tall glass and reading. I heard footsteps in the house, but made no movement.

The back door swung open, and then there was George, his arms moving up and down on his skinny arms. "What the hell? It's like twenty degrees!"

I had blankets wrapped around me on the lounge chair, my book propped in front of my face. The sun was just beginning to set in the background. I always loved when it was cold out, so I went outside ALL the time during this weather back home. It was one of the odd things that I loved.

"Shhh, this is getting good!" I gestured to the book that was in front of my nose. George rolled his eyes.

"Whatever. Just don't be long, because we're hungry."

"Then make yourself some damn food!" I called as he slammed the back door. Once again I was enraptured by my book. Once the sun was too dim for me to do any more reading, however, I set it aside and pulled the blankets up to my chin, leaning my head back and watching the glorious sunset. Around me, the birds chirped lightly, but everything else was calm. My eyes started getting heavy, and I remembered the sleepless night that I had last night…

"A.J.?" a voice asked softly.

"…" I mumbled in response, rolling over into the warmth of the thick blankets.

The person laughed deeply. "You better get inside or you'll catch hypothermia. God forbid," he said sarcastically.

Upon this comment, I knew exactly who it was. "You would like that, wouldn't you John?" I sat up, rubbing my eyes tiredly.

"Oh, definitely." He grinned at me, standing up straight and putting his hands on his hips.

"What time is it?" I asked with a yawn.

"Nearly eleven."

"And you guys left me out here that long?" I exclaimed, suddenly wide awake. The jerks!

He shrugged. "I voted to leave you out here all night, but Paul and George said no."

I clasped my hands in front of my face and made fake-dreamy eyes at him. "My hero!"

He rolled his eyes, turning around to head inside with me on his heels. "So where's Ringo?" I inquired quickly, following him to the entrance of his door. He stood, framed in the doorway.

"In his room. But be quiet if the pair of you decided to go at, because me and the other lads will be sleeping."

I blushed, but quickly shook it off. "Don't you have a song to be writing or something?" Did that mean Paul told him what I said? Nah, Paul would never do such a thing to me…right?

"You're the one that's standing in MY doorway," he pointed out.

Oooh, point for John. "Touché."

He nodded. "'Night, then." Oh, my George. He totally loved me. I giggled at that thought. My own grandfather loved me! What a shocker!

"G'night, John."

I turned around, walking down the hall and standing outside Ringo's door. I could hear voices in the room, but I couldn't exactly make out what they were saying. Good, that meant he was up. It was the first time I'd seen him all day, and I was slightly nervous. I had no idea what I was gonna say.

Taking a deep breath, I rapped on the door. No one answered, but the voices continued inside. What the fuck Ringo? Can you at LEAST have the decency to get off your ass and answer your flippin' door? But nooooooo, God forbid someone ELSE in this house actually did anything. I mean-

I cut my thoughts off short. God, I could get annoying sometimes.

I knocked quickly again and there was a muffled response. I couldn't really hear what was said, however, and I just stood there. After a second the sound in the room returned. Without even thinking, I pulled open the door, ready to tease Ringo about his laziness…like old times.

But what I saw when I opened the door rendered me speechless, so teasing was a LITTLE bit out of the question.

I could only see the top half of Ringo, but what I COULD see was completely bare. He had his back to the door (er…well…more like to the ceiling) and was hovering over a girl. A girl I recognized. She had short, blonde hair and big blue eyes. She was staring up at Ringo intensely, moans escaping from her lips.

My first thought? Get the FUCK outta there.

But, unfortunately, Ringo heard the door open. He paused in what he was doing, rolling off the girl and looking over at me. "I said to hold on a second," he chirped, not getting that I was horrified and completely frozen to the spot, no matter HOW much I wanted to move.

"Uh…"

"Oh! And this is Bonnie." He gestured to the girl that was now pulling a sheet over her chest, looking embarrassed. "I met her last night. Great girl. Ended up that she was Martin's niece! Can you believe that?"

Yes, actually, I COULD believe that. Because honestly? These things just happened to me ALL THE TIME! NOTHING ever went my way. And then it dawned on me. "Ringo, I just wanted to talk to you about last night-"

He smiled that adorable, goofy smile. "Yeah, thanks for that! Chuck would have killed me!"

He doesn't remember, I thought. He made me fall in love with him, and he doesn't even fucking remember.

"Right. Chuck."

He nodded slowly, thoughtfully. Then he pointed to Bonnie somewhat awkwardly. "So…"

"Right! Yeah, I'll just…" I began to turn around, but the first tear was already seeping down my face. Don't let him see, I mentally chanted. Don't let him see!

"A.J.? Are you alright?"

Shit. Now they were just coming even stronger, my heart completely tearing in two. "Fine," I managed to choke out. I didn't wait for a response before I sprinted the hell out of there.

Right out of the house.

And down the street.

In the complete darkness.

And cold.

I had never liked running, but right now it felt good. I ran right into town, searching for a light that showed me that someone was open. That I wasn't completely alone in the world.

I skidded to a stop in front of a beauty parlor, the only place with life on this desolate road.

"But sweetie, you have such beautiful hair!" the beautician said.

The tears were still streaming down my face. "Off. I want it short." Ringo liked girls with short hair, didn't he? Maybe if I just…er…CONFORMED a little bit, he would kiss me again. Just like last night.

She held up a fistful of long, thick, dark brown ringlets. "I WANT this hair."

"Off," I repeated.

She gazed at it longingly. "Well, okay… How short?"

I stared at my tearstained face in the mirror. What I was about to do was not really registering. I pointed to a random spot on my neck. "There…or shorter. I don't know. Just make it short."

She twitched her mouth enviously, then nodded. "Now, what's wrong?"

I didn't say anything for a moment, just listening to the snip snip of the scissors. Tears were pouring out of my eyes at rapid fire. God knows what the ladies were thinking in the place.

"He…" Could I make myself say it? Could I admit as true? "He…doesn't…love me."

Her eyes immediately softened. "Oh, honey! That's terrible!"

I nodded, unable to saying anything. Now I know why they call it heartbreak. IT FUCKING HURTS!

"Well, new hair always makes things better," she informed me, snip snipping more chunks of my precious hair off.

"I hope," I whispered. And I did. Because now that I was sad, the only thing that was gonna keep me going was hope. The hope that I could make things right again. The hope that I could make Ringo fall as hopelessly in love with me as I was with him.

I made a pact with myself there and then. I would always love Ringo, this I knew, but I would try and make him love me back. And I would not give up until I heard directly from his mouth that he would never be with me.

I took a deep breath, gathering myself, and wiped away my tears. I tried to smile. "There," the lady said, "you're getting better already!"

I blinked a couple times, as I did whenever I heard a Beatles song carelessly strewn into a conversation. "It hurts," I murmured. I wanted my mom. She would be able to make things better. She would be able to make me laugh. She would insult the hell out of Ringo like she did every time Des and I broke up.

"Yeah, it always does. But that goes away. Just forget him."

I stared at myself, a million thoughts crowding my mind. So, I said the only honest thing I could think of. "I can't."

Catie = VERY sad right now. I didn't want to do it. I didn't want A.J. heart broken. But it was inevitable. Think about it: if this was a real situation, how do you think Ringo would react? Do you think we would love her back? WELL, he she hasn't come out and said it yet, but it will happen. Or maybe John will say it. Or maybe Paul. OR George. That's for ME to know, and YOU to find out.

I know that you ALL are incredibly interested, so here are SOME of the songs that I was listening to: Simple Man, Lynard Skynard. Jealous Guy, John Lennon. Imagine, John Lennon. Beth, Kiss. Free Bird, Lynard Skynard. Two of Us, the Beatles. Yellow, Coldplay. All Things Must Pass, George Harrison. Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol.

In case you didn't notice by the songs, I was trying to make myself sad by listening to slower songs with lots of instrumental and NOT a lot of peppy upbeat. I think it worked, because now I'm all…ugh. So, anywho, REVIEW!

…please?