The 1964 American tour started only a few days later, and things got even more insane.  The lads performed all around New York, including Carnegie Hall.  Most of the lads enjoyed it, but John wasn't always happy.  Sometimes fans were actually sitting on the stage with them, and they would grab at the boys and shout at them.  He thought it was like being caged at a zoo.  

But then the lads went down to the Sunshine State to play another Ed Sullivan Show.  After that, however, they had as much free-time as they wanted in Florida.  It was wonderful.  

One day Brian rented a boat for the lads, and we went out on the water.  It was great.  We found a way to listen to music on the boat's radio, and the lads were able to sit down and have a drink.  They were all in their finest vacation clothes: button-down shirts and capris or shorts.  

I had a bit of free-time before they did, so I went shopping for a swimsuit.  Though it was probably less skimpy than swimsuits in 2014, for the bottom part of it was shorts instead of a bikini bottom, wearing that gave the lads an opportunity to see more skin than they had wanted to.  

I relaxed on the bow of the boat, closer to the water than any of the lads dared to go.  But Paul and George were at the back of the boat, meanwhile Ringo and John were at the front with me.  Walking past them, I turned the radio up loud, the rock and roll song blaring.  I took Ringo's hand.  "Dance with me."

My statement caused John to look at me.  Ringo was silent for a moment, then smiled.  Though he grew nervous when I stood on the bow of the boat, and tugged him along to join me.  "You won't fall in," I had to speak loudly over the music.  

So we danced, and John continued to drink.  He let me taste it, and it was quite friuty, but to me it was too sweet.  Soon I offered him to join us, and he did.  

Paul and George must have heard our laughing and became curious.  The youngest Beatle didn't smile and just sat, meanwhile Paul joined in on the fun.  I offered a hand to George, but he didn't take it.  However, when Paul asked him, he did.  He stayed away from me though.  

I caught Paul staring at me long moments at a time.  The amount of skin I was showing obviously had an affect on him.  I laughed, but continued to dance.  Everything was so wonderful that day.  The water was calm and clear, the sun was beating down with heat the Beatles had never felt before and they were getting their well-deserved break.  

A few minutes later, the lads took a break and Brian arrived.  I, however, was busy looking out at the water, so I didn't notice.  Before Brian could say a word, John shouted, "The pirates!  The fiends!  Abandon ship!" He shot up, grabbed me and we both tumbled off of the bow into the water.

The ocean felt amazing in the heat of day.  I quickly swam up to the surface, looking up at Paul's frightened face.  I laughed, and splashed him.  John came up from underwater a few moments later. 

After swimming around for a few minutes, Paul offered me a hand to climb back into the boat.  He offered one to John too, though I could tell immediately that this wouldn't end well for Paul.  The older Beatle yanked his arm and he fell head first into the water.  He came up spouting water from his mouth.  Splashing John, he said, "That was not funny."

"It was from up here," I interjected, giggling.  He play-scowled, and splashed at me.  

"Missed me-" I began to say, before someone pushed me from behind and I slipped into the water.  As I shook the hair out of my eyes, I saw Ringo immediately point to George, so he wouldn't be the one to wrongly feel my wrath.  I didn't know if George did it because of our fight, or because he was trying to be somewhat playful.  Either way, I wasn't going to let him get away with it.  

"George Harrison!" I scolded, before grabbing his hands and pulling him overboard.  I laughed when he came up, gasping for breath.  We invited Ringo in but he argued he couldn't swim.  I offered to teach him, but he said he was alright just watching it.  

Brian bent down over the edge of the bow to talk to us.  "I don't want to interrupt your holiday, but there are storms coming late this afternoon, and you should come in soon."  He looked down at me.  "You're relieved of your job for writing reports this week."

"Thank you, sir."

He nodded, and then left.  

We splashed around, and dove under the water.  Though it stung my eyes horribly, I opened them beneath the surface to scoop some shells off of the bottom of the ocean.  Kicking up to the boat, I let them spill out of my hand onto the edge of the bow.  Ringo and I examined them for awhile, but then they started to move.  I had accidentally picked up tiny crabs from the sea bed.  

John appeared at my side, watching them scuttle across the edge.  Some of them fell back into the water.  He jabbed a finger at one of them that was frantically running around the edge.  "That one looks like Paul."  I laughed.  

Ringo took a picture of them as they frantically ran around, and then another of me holding a few in my hand.  As soon as we were done playing with them, I scooped them up and brought them back to the bottom.  

John and George got tired, and returned to the boat with Ringo.  It was getting towards the afternoon, and the sun was covered by clouds, making the world a bit cooler.  As I was swimming around beneath the water, I felt someone grab my hips.  I kicked up quickly, and splashed the offender.  Paul laughed.  "It was a joke, Elle!"  

"That was not funny," I mocked him.  

He rolled his eyes.  "But you know what I would really like?  I've always wanted to try an underwater kiss."  

I bit my lip and looked up at the boat.  The lads went down into the galley in the boat, probably eating.  Paul took my hand and said, "Come on.  They aren't going to see us."  

Though I knew that you weren't supposed to go underneath a dock, the one the boat was tied to had a pocket of air beneath it so we could breathe.  But as soon as I caught my breath, Paul pulled me back into the ocean.  

It was dark underneath the dock, and it didn't help to open my eyes, so I just hoped Paul knew what he was doing.  But soon I felt his arms around me, and lips on mine.  I could hear the boat bobbing up and down and the boards on the dock creaking around us.  Soon we went up for air, and Paul said, "You're amazing, love."

The creaking became louder and soon we heard Brian's voice coming from directly above us.  Paul swore in a whisper.  I covered my mouth so I wouldn't start laughing.  It was just my luck for something like that to happen.  

"Hey, where are Paul and Elle?" Brian asked the lads.  Even in the darkness, I could see Paul's wide eyes.  Trying to play it cool, I took his hand and swam out from underneath the dock.  

"Here." 

John wolf-whistled, understanding before anyone else did.  I tried to hide my blush.  Ringo laughed, and Brian turned away, pretending to examine the horizon.  The only person who wasn't even secretly amused was George, who scowled at me.  

I had been feeling better all day, but then my heart began to hurt once more.  

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When we returned to the hotel, I took a shower.  John continued to tease Paul after our escapade under the dock.  George didn't say a word to either of us.  

After I was all clean and dry, I sat down on the couch with Paul, and we watched the movie The Birds on the television.  I had seen it before, and to me it wasn't very scary, for I had seen worse in the time I was from.  However, to Paul, it was the most frightening thing he had ever seen.  He watched the television with wide hazel eyes.  It was almost cute.  

Together we ate two bowls of popcorn.  As I was making our second helping, I could tell Paul had eyes for the beautiful main character Melanie Daniels, who was played by Tippi Hendren.  I smiled shyly.  It would be silly of me to be jealous.  

Though when I sat down next to him, Paul kissed me and said, "It's so wonderful here, isn't it?" 

"Yes."

A sea breeze blew in from the windows and I shivered.  We pulled a blanket up over each other and snuggled close.  

Though I was so very relaxed then, I would soon by plunged back into heartbreak and hardship.  Only this time, the heartbreak would not be my own.  

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The Beatles had just left to meet Cassius Clay, a man who would soon be known as Muhammad Ali, a champion boxer.  And later, they would go to a photo-shoot for Life magazine.  I found another note, this time underneath my pillow.  

My hands trembled a little as I slid it out of its envelope.  In its small, typed print, it read: You haven't forgotten about me, have you?  Paul isn't the only one who wishes you were his.  You would never believe me if I told you how much you mean to me.  The idea of someone loving you is impossible for you to comprehend, for when you look in the mirror you see nothing worth loving.  That part startled me.  I swore I had the same thought not long ago.  But there are so many wonderful things about you that you cannot see, refuse to see. 

There are many things I keep to myself, but soon this will no longer be a secret.  

You're beautiful, Elle.

Sincerely, Your Secret Admirer.

I dropped the note, feeling sick.  Though I knew that whoever this was was attempting to be romantic and reassuring, it had an ominous undertone.  The idea of this man exposing himself to me was slightly frightening, even though I knew it had to be one of the lads.  

Slipping the note back underneath my pillow, I wrote shakily on the envelope: This isn't funny anymore.  I find it frightening to correspond with someone who won't reveal himself.  I do not have an interest in being 'the object of your affection'.  I am perfectly happy with the relationship I have with Paul.

I wasn't sure where to put it, so I set it on the vanity in my room and left to make tea.  

That night, after all the lads had gone to sleep, I laid down in bed and found something new underneath my pillow.  Attached to a note was a single red tulip.  The note said:  No interest?  My dear Elle, you've never even seen me truly yet.  Though, that day will come soon.  I was so frightened I threw the tulip to the end of the bed, and ran out the door.  I didn't bother knocking on Paul's door, and walked in.  He was asleep, but I carefully crawled in next to him.  

Sleeping in my room was impossible that entire week.  I stayed with Paul.  If I even looked into my room, I could feel the man's eyes on me, even though I had, according to his notes, never truly seen him.  

But I would.  

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Who do you think the mystery man is?