Title: “The Willow”
Chapter Completed: August 5, 2004


Amie snuggled up closer to John, in her post cordial bliss. A slow, giggly smile broke on her face. Her whole body was still feeling tingly and satisfied after their late-afternoon activity. The thought still made her blush.
John pulled himself up to sit against the large willow tree. In his attempt to re-fasten his jeans a genuine smile played for a spot on his lips.

“Is that a smile?” She slithered up his lap, playfully pointing out the curled up lips.
“Bugger off,” he swatted her hand away, pulling out a cigarette to hide the still present sign of happiness on his face.
“That is a smile,” she pulled herself up to sit facing him, fixing the buttons of her shirt as she realised the fabric was still open, “I’d ‘ave figured a teddy like you would be used to this.” She tried to hide her new embarrassed blush, unable to look up at him in fear of looking stupid in his eyes. Most of the time she didn’t know what was going on within his head…and sometimes she was scared of what might be.
A curl of smoke began drifting around them with the hiss of matches, “I’m a loser, and I’m not what I appear to be.”
In her blissed state Amie missed the solemn tone of his words, or chose this time to miss them in favour of a happy memory, “Don’t tell me that was thee John Lennon’s first time?” She teased with a light-hearted giggle.
“Why d’ya’ave to be so bloody coy all the time?” he snapped, flicking the still lit cigarette off to the side,
“Why do you?” she found herself snapping back.

Both the teen found themselves sitting in the silence of the church-yard, that had moments ago been filled with their muffled and rushed breathing. Neither of them could look at the other. Shame and an unbelievable venerability fell over John. A feeling he didn’t trust and would never be used to. And Amie was left feeling insecure and confused. But she knew she had crossed one of their unwritten lines.
She looked up at him, shyly through her eye-lashes, “maybe we like to ‘ide. Maybe I’m ‘iding the fact that I’m falling ‘ead over ‘eels for the bloke John,” her voice cracked with emotions she didn’t know she was hiding. She scooted closer to him, tentatively reaching out to caress his cheek.
He was silent and still, staring off away from her.
She recoiled, “Or maybe I don’t feel anything for ‘im at all,” she tried to lighten the heavy mood tightening around from her confession, “Maybe I just wanna be able to say that I shagged Mr. John Lennon under this ‘ere willow.” She forced a joyless laugh through her tightening throat as she reached up in an attempt to ruffle his hair, in their understood playful manner.
But instead he dodged himself away from her wandering fingers, his first acknowledgement of her since she began speaking on the touchy subject of emotions. Turning quickly to face her, John pulled a pocket-knife from its aforementioned home in his jacket, and flashed the blade in the early evening light.
Amie sucked in a quick breath, a fear flashing in her blue eyes, a fear she thought she was used to from the boy. Her mouth opened and closed like a guppy, but no words came out. Not that she knew what ones she needed anyway, so it was just as well to have them fail her.

Just as suddenly as he had flashed the metal at her, he turned all the way around addressing the tree itself. Quickly and skilfully, from years of deviant behaviour, he carved two small letters into the bark: J and A.
“Now everyone will know what willow ‘ya shagged me under,” he flashed a small smirk before returning to his previous position against the witnessing tree. Replacing the tool into his pocket and fishing out another cigarette, he lit it, laughing “You don’t really think I’d ‘urt ‘ya, ‘ya crazy bird.”
Amie’s attention was still drawn to the freshly scarred wood, gingerly running her fingers along the lines forming a J and an A, a smile openly spread across her face.
Actions were always stronger than words with John, she realised that.

Happy once again, she slid down next to his warm body. Content in the smell of nicotined smoke and his own arm draped around her.




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