What If

Chapter 17

The boys played their guitars masterfully. I sat on the end of John's bed, probably looking more excited than I should've been, but I didn't care. I was watching The Beatles write their songs! I recognized the beginnings of what would become their earliest songs! They were way too early in development to even have lyrics. They were just the main chords.

I was resisting the urge to tell them what the song should sound like and what the lyrics should be, but I was barely holding it in. Paul was just starting on his idea for I Saw Her Standing There. He was strumming on his guitar over and over, trying to get the sound just right.

"I can't figure out how it should go from here," he complained, playing the chords to the second half of the chorus over and over again, not being able to get it out the way he wanted.

I was internally debating whether or not just to shout out "Well how could I dance with another!" but I didn't want to accidently damage the timeline. Then again, it would be cool to actually contribute to the production of a Beatles song.

"Maybe something like . . . Girl, you're fine, make you mine," John suggested.

"Nah. That doesn't sound right. Do you have any ideas, Colleen?"

All three of them looked at me at once, my self-consciousness kicking in, making me blush. "Oh, I have a lot of them," I said, more to myself than to them.

Paul looked excited. I guess he had been stuck on that part of the song for some time. "Great!" he exclaimed, happier than a clown. "What are they?"

My eyes were wide like a deer caught in the headlights. I didn't want to tell them the real lyrics because if they don't discover them the way they had originally done so, I would risk disrupting the future. But if I told them different lyrics, they may think mine are better and use those, also changing the timeline. I assumed the first was less risky. Besides, it would be pretty cool to have a hand in creating a Beatles song, right?

Pretending like I didn't know any better, I said "Well, how about something like . . . 'Well how could I dance with another?'"

Paul looked up to the ceiling, singing it to himself in his head. John stroked his chin, trying to imagine it himself. George had little to no input on this song, but he stared down at his guitar and plucked away at his part of the song anyway.

"I really like that," Paul said, anxiously writing the words down on a piece of paper already covered in scribbles and crossed out words. He played it on his guitar, singing the song, adding the new lyrics.

"Yeah, it sounds great," John agreed. "How'd you come up with that?"

I smiled shyly and said "Oh, it just came to me."

"Well, it's fantastic," Paul added. "You're pretty good with words." He winked at me very seductively. "You should come to every song-writing session." I guess what I said to him didn't deter him from trying to flirt with me. And I guess George never told him what I said. Or maybe it's just made him more determined.

I flashed him a friendly smile, not acknowledging his advance at all. "I don't know if I can do that with schoolwork and all, but I would definitely love to come to more of them."

George looked out John's window and saw that the sky was already a dark smoky black. He glanced down at the cheap watch on his wrist and said "Hey, Paul." He took his guitar strap off of him. "It's getting late. We need to be getting home."

Paul pulled up his sleeve and looked at his own watch. "Oh, you're right," he said, unstrapping his own guitar. "You ready to go, Colleen?"

I was a wee-bit tired, but I really wanted to stay and watch them play more. But since Paul and George were leaving, that wasn't going to happen, was it? "I guess," I agreed, hopping off of the bed.

"Actually, I was thinking Colleen might want to stay awhile and look at some more artwork," John suggested, wiggling his eyebrows like he's famously known for doing. "And I want to see these drawings that she's capable of."

I bet he wanted to see what else I was capable of. To be honest, being alone with John terrified me. Him trying something was almost a guarantee. And he also has a history with anger issues. Not to mention, if he thought I could do these amazing masterpieces, he was going to be disappointed.

"I don't know, John," I said, my voice wavering a little bit. "I still have homework to do and it's getting late-'"

"Oh no, I insist." He stood up and took my left hand in both of his. "Paulie's had some alone time with you. Georgie's had some alone time with you. Now I want some alone time with you. I want to get to know the real Colleen Ferry. And don't worry, I don't bite hard." He took my hand up to his lips and bit the back of it gently.

Paul chuckled behind me. "Yes, Colleen," he agreed, smirking. "Why don't you?" I gave him this look of confusion, hurt, and anger. The look on his face told it all. He knew I didn't like John. He was punishing me for not going out with him. His smirk wasn't seductive, it was payback. "I'm sure you'll have a lovely time. Come on, George. Let's go home." He turned and walked out the door, not giving a second look back.

George was completely confused at why Paul would just let me go like that, especially since he knew he liked me so much. But he turned and followed Paul anyway, leaving me completely alone with John Lennon.