Since tomorrow, August 18th, was my birthday, John had decided to show me the Cavern Club, which he told me 'was the best on Saturdays'. It was a pub, where bands often performed. He had mentioned wanting to play there with the Quarrymen one day.

We were going to sneak in, meeting Pete, Pheobe, and Eric there for the afternoon. I was awfully nervous. John seemed plenty confident we wouldn't be found out and kicked to the curb, though, so I decided I'd brave my nerves and go check out the Cavern.

"The atmosphere, the mood, it's all brilliant." John gushed to me as we walked out a local record shop. He had been showing me some of the music he liked, and I noted some of it to see if Elaine had any. "You'll love it. Everyone does. It's one of the few things that actually makes living in Liverpool worth the burden."

He was in the middle of fixing his hair in a window reflection. Inside were breads and other baked novelties. I raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?" Just as I had said that, the curtains of the small bakery pulled back, showing the rest of the shop. A pudgy, bald man shook a rolling pin angrily at us before swinging the door open.

"Get out of the way of my window, bloody kids! I'm trying to sell food, not your sodding rock and roll music!" He had said 'rock and roll' oddly, like it was foreign to him, which was quite funny. Apparently John had thought so too, because he laughed, then grabbed my forearm and ran off, dragging me with him as he saluted the baker sarcastically.

I giggled as we turned a corner, John starting to slow down. "The wanker looked like a hog, didn't he?" He snorted, letting go of my arm. I had rather liked his hand around it, though.

"He probably ate his wife," I sneered, catching my breath. John burst out laughing on the sidewalk, in front of the passerby, sides heaving, face red. "Dear Lord! John!"

He braced himself on the wall before straightening up. "Ah, I just didn't expect that out of you. You being a... Kid and all." John was still somewhat uncomfortable around me for being fourteen or something along those lines, which I didn't understand, because he acted quite childish himself.

I crossed my arms, frowning. "Yes, of course. Are we almost at the Cavern?"

John looked around before pointing down an alleyway, where a few people were loitering. "It's right down there, actually.

Staring at John absurdly, I felt my stomach drop nervously. "Is this a joke or something?"

His head bopped as if I had said something offensive. "No, I told you! It looks like rubbish outside. Trust me on this one. The others are probably already waiting for us."

I rubbed my arm as John sweet-talked the club's security. "We're just wanting some music, a good time, yeah?"

The burly man stared down at John. "Fine then. Just don't make any trouble." He finally grunted after a minute. Large muscles ripping at his shirt made me nervous, and his clenching fists with huge knuckles were absolutely terrifying to think about getting hit with.

"Ta, mate." John flashed a grin at the man, before pulling me inside with him quickly before he could say anything else to us.

Although he did get the last word in. "I know the both of you are underaged, by the way!" He had called after us, and John only sped up, pushing through some crowds to a large table, where Pete, Eric, and Pheobe were already sitting on high stools. Pete waved to John as we sat down. They slid beers up to us, and John had already taken a long swig of his before I could even touch mine, not that I wanted to drink it, anyways.

The four of them stared at me. "Well?" Asked Pheobe. I tilted my head questioningly. What were they asking about? The low ceiling? Décor? Drink quality? Crowd quality? Band? "The Cavern, silly!" She cuffed my shoulder.

"Oh," I smiled. "Yes, it's lovely."

John looked rather excited. Eric had nodded to the band performing.
"That's Rory and the Hurricanes. They've got a nice getup." He told me gruffly, and I nodded in agreement. They were in matching outfits, and I noticed one of the members had a lot of rings accenting his fingers. Rory looked to be about John's age, maybe older, and he was rather attractive.

I felt John's elbow jab into my abdomen. "Oi, so are you going to try it or not?" He asked, motioning towards the foaming golden alcohol. I gazed at it. I didn't really want to have any, Mum was against drinking, and Dad was against Alice and I having any before we were eighteen, though he went to the pub often. They were also killed by a drunk driver, nevertheless.

I glanced back up at John, then shook my head. "You can have it." I told him. He shrugged at the others then took it from me, giving me a subtle nod. The Hurricanes by then had started playing a new song, one I hadn't heard before, though it looked like Pheobe was tapping her foot along to it.

I sank into my seat, melting my worries away and enjoying the afternoon with all my new friends. My birthday was definitely going to be a good day.

The next morning, I stood with the phone receiver to my ear. After three rings, Alice finally picked up, halfway through the fourth. "Hello," I greeted her cheerily.

"Happy birthday, Heather." Alice murmured, making me feel a tad self-conscious. I decided to confront her.

"What has your problem been recently? For real?" I demanded.

Alice sighed. "Maybe if you hadn't insulted Grandmother and ruined your room, I would be more accepting of you moving." She said coldly.

I stopped, "Wait- what?"

"Grandmother said you had trashed your room, then told her she was an 'old bat that should just go ahead and die'." Alice reported.

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "You don't really believe that, do you?" I murmured, hurt. Why would Grandmother do that? Why would Alice be so gullible as to blame me when I had moved away? She should know I'd never do that.

I caught sight of Elaine staring at me in my peripheral vision, her hands on her hips. "Well, I don't know why Grandmum would've lied about that, and you definitely ran off without telling me until the last second."

I frowned sadly. "So? We're sisters, Alice, I'd never do that to you!" Elaine stepped closer, looking concerned.

"I'm sorry, but Grandmother seems to be very bothered by this, and you're living the 'good life' out in Liverpool, so-"

Elaine snatched the phone out of my hands. "I would like it if you stopped talking to your sister," She spoke into the receiver.

"Hey- what are you doing?" I grabbed at the phone, but Elaine kept it out of my reach.

She looked at me with wide, desperate eyes. "It's for your own good!" The woman shouted before slamming the receiver down and unplugging the telephone from the line. Elaine took a few heavy breaths before exhaling deeply, closing her eyes. "You cannot get caught up with your sister. Live in the now. Live for you."

I pressed my lips together, narrowing my eyes at her. "I wanted to talk to her for my birthday," I drawled, clenching my fist.

Elaine stopped. "...Your birthday?" I nodded furiously, and she took a step back. "I'm... I'm sorry, I-"

I waved her off, stomping out of the house, slamming the door behind me. I stared at my feet angrily. How dare she try to stop me from talking to my sister? I huffed angrily before bumping into somebody right in front of our gate. I gasped, furrowing my brows at whoever I had hit.

John grinned at me, dusting myself off. "Where are you going in such a hurry?" His face then softened as he examined my furious expression. "Oh. Of course Elaine might forget your birthday, you barely know her, and she-"

I gazed at him, hurt as I held my arms. "It's not that," I murmured. "I was trying to talk to my sister." Sighing deeply, I glanced away from John. "Elaine took the telephone away and hung up."

"You do know she has issues with her brother, right?" I nodded slowly, but what would that change? She shouldn't be trying to control my life. "Just let her do what she thinks is right. In the meantime, feel free to call your sister from Mimi's." John patted my shoulder before holding up a small package. "Oh, yeah. Got this for ya." He handed it to me, and I stared at it. Brown wrapping paper with minimal decoration, but it was something, and I appreciated it greatly. John and I barely knew each other, but he still thought enough of me to buy me a gift.

I grinned at John before unwrapping it neatly. "Thank you," I murmured as I pulled the paper off to reveal a quaint little notepad and a book, titled 'The Last Of the Wine'. "Did you pick this out yourself?" I held it up to him.
"Erm, yeah. I saw you had a bunch of books in your room, and that you didn't have this one. I just kinda picked it out." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as my bad mood completely disappeared.

"Really?" I smirked. "What's it about?"

John raised an eyebrow. "It's about this Greek kid, who's a really good at running, and how he falls in love with this Lysis, and their relationship, while Lysis is married, oh, it's a great book. I hope you'll like it."

It was hilarious doing that. I knew John secretly liked reading, but didn't want anyone to know, as to keep up his 'teddy boy' appearance. It was a quirky character trait of his that I quite fancied. "I'm sure I will," I smiled, and pulled him into a quick hug.

I felt him laugh over my shoulder as he held me in his arms. "I'm sorry it's not much, though." He apologized as he pulled away.

"That's fine, I'm just so happy I got a gift, I wasn't expecting something." John crossed his arms, looking satisfied with himself.

"So, I was thinking we go to the pier for a little while?" He shrugged. "To let you get to know the city better?"

I nodded. "Sure, it's not like I have anything better to do." John's eyes brightened.

"Come 'ead!" He called, then hurried off to the bus station on the corner of Menlove. As I caught up, I felt him link his arm around mine. I glanced down at them, but he apparently didn't notice he was doing so, or something. I didn't care enough to pull my arm away, though.

I sat in a small diner across from John. It was mostly empty, so we could hear the clatter in the kitchen, as well as the small radio that was playing near us. "Good food?" He asked me after a long silence. I smiled, still listening to the radio before it crackled and a report came on the air.

"A young teenager from the Bristol area has been missing for a month and a half now. If you know the whereabouts of Heather Eaton, please telephone this number -" I sat up and stared at John, who seemed nonchalant about it. My eyes widened as they kept speaking. "She is described to be about five and a half feet tall, have long, red, curled hair, fair features, and green eyes. The reward for finding her is two thousand pounds." Only then did John look up at me, and I tried shuffling into the corner of my seat, as I didn't want anyone seeing me right then, especially with such a large sum of money over my head.

The door opened suddenly with the clang of a bell, and I slumped farther down into my seat as a girl, presumably about my or John's age, hurried in, apologizing loudly.

A cook came out, and started shouting at her about 'being fired the next time she came in late'. I tried not to eavesdrop, but I couldn't help it, until John finally spoke again.

"Lots of people leaving Bristol, yeah?" He said through a mouthful of food. "It really is a rubbish place to live, isn't it?" Laughing, he glanced up at me. I nodded hesitantly, giving him a weak smile. "We'd best get out of here." He concluded, leaving some money on the table.

I spent the rest of the day slightly paranoid as John lead me around the pier, going into different shops and eventually walking barefoot along the beach, him going on about his dreams of being a famous musician. "You have your whole life planned out," I confessed. "I don't even know what I want to be when I'm older."

"Well, what do you like to do?" He asked, kicking a rock farther ahead of us, as he had been doing for a few minutes with the same rock.

I thought for a moment. "Art, and reading, I suppose." I murmured, as John watched me with his milky brown eyes.

"Don't you play violin?"

"Yes, but that doesn't mean I like it," I replied bitterly before sighing. I made a mistake taking it along with me. "I'm not even that good at all my subjects in school."

John shrugged. "Me neither, but that doesn't really matter to me." He said, fixing his quiff.

I sighed, staring out to the sea, as the setting sun shone over it for one of the first times since I came to Liverpool, dying the waves magnificent colours of oranges and reds, making it look as if it were on fire. I needed to come here more often. Glancing at John, I fully took in his features. He had a long nose, a pointed chin, slightly broad shoulders, and squinting eyes as he didn't have his glasses on. I often heard Mimi nagging him to put them on, but he would always tell me they were a 'burden on his persona', which made me snigger every time he said it. "We should head back." I murmured as the sun crept closer and closer to the horizon. "It's getting late."

John nodded in agreement, glancing out onto the sea before climbing back up on the boardwalk, helping me up, which I accepted, even though I didn't need it. He pulled out his pack of cigarettes again and put one between his lips before offering me one.

I stared at it closely. Grandmother, strangely enough, was against smoking, even though it wasn't like it killed people. She said it was 'the sinner's practice', as she was heavily Christian and decided that Jesus didn't like smoking.

Wanting to rebel against that thought, I took the cig after a deep breath, and let him light it for me.

"She's a bloomin' tosser if that's the way you were treated," John huffed as I told him to what extent living with Grandmother was like. "I don't blame you for wantin' to run off." He tapped his chin. "It's funny, huh? Bristol's emptying out. I'll be surprised if there's anyone left living there in a few years." He laughed. I was just relieved he hadn't put two and two together that I had been the missing girl they announced over the radio.

I pulled my cigarette from my lips, having gotten accustomed to it already as I puffed the smoke. "I suppose." I muttered. "It was a nice city, really. The people were the issue for me." John only shrugged in reply as we waited at the bus stop.

"Did you have a good time?" He asked after a few moments of silence. It was good, I had fun.

I nodded, smiling up at John. "Yes, thank you." I had the whole day to think about lots of things, and something that often came up was that Paul McCartney. Everything about him was so familiar, even though I couldn't put my finger on it. His name, his face, his actions. I knew them from somewhere, and it was bothering me intensely. "John?"

"Hm?" He glanced over at me, raising an eyebrow.

I was about to ask him about Paul before our bus pulled up. Cussing silently as we boarded, I had my elbow propped up on the window for quite a few minutes before John said anything more. "What were you going to ask me?"

I glanced at him, then shrugged, already having forgotten. John scrunched up his nose, then turned to look out the other window. It was quite peaceful, the bus was nearly empty, since it was after the evening rush. We both sat silently on the bottom level as the bus moved along the street.

Until it lurched terribly. I gasped, one hand grabbing the seat in front, and the other's nails instinctively digging into John's arm. "Hey- what's your problem?" He griped, pulling his arm away and inspecting the little crescent-shaped I had accidentally left in it.

"I'm sorry!" I cried. "It's... A thing. I don't like it when vehicles do that."

He gritted his teeth. "That's stupid! Blimey, I think you broke the skin."

I forced myself to look out the window, feeling terribly guilty. "I know, I'm sorry." I repeated, brushing my hair back, though some of it fell back over my eye, as it always did.

John took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. "It's alright." He finally muttered, as we hopped off the bus. He stayed silent as we continued towards our homes. I anxiously wrung my hands, glancing back and forth from them to John, who was staring forward at the sidewalk ahead. I felt awful. Although, what else was I to do? Habits are habits, and they are formed by fear, and my fear was that I would end up with the same fate as my parents. Totalled. A fatal car crash. Two lives that had ended in a matter of seconds. I didn't want to end that way.

Nevertheless, nobody does.

John had said goodbye right before we parted ways, which made me feel a trifle less guilty, although he was still eyeing his forearm, which I had impaled, to exaggerate, at the least.

Elaine had greeted me in an overwhelmingly nice sort of way, which I could tell was a sort of "apology" for her being so rude as to hang up the telephone on me while I was trying to speak to my sister, even going so far as to bake something that I had dubbed an 'apology cake' for me. I turned it down, my thoughts still turned towards Edith and Lawrence, my Mum and Dad.

And with that somber note, my fifteenth birthday came to a close as soon as my head hit the pillow, as I was exhausted from my day with John.