George ran a hand through his hair in distress as Sammi walked away from him, her head held high. "What do I have to do to make you love me?" George cried out to her, his voice cracking and she stopped in her tracks and turned on her heal. She scowl...
Samantha tucked her hair behind her ear as she took an older man's order. "You want anything to drink with that, sir?" She asked.
The older man shook his head. "No thank ye, Miss," he replied, giving her a kind smile. When it came to men while working at the Chippy, Samantha was always weary. She'd gotten too many ass grabs and ugly words thrown her way. It was always refreshing when a man was kind to her, and didn't seem to have any other intentions.
"Alright, I'll have that out as soon as I can for ya," Samantha said brightly. She turned on her heel and went to place the ticket on the ticket line. It wasn't that busy, Thursday nights never were. Her mind was somewhere else entirely as she went through the motions at work. She was waiting for a letter back from George. It'd been two weeks and she was due for one to come her way. She wished he was somewhere with a telephone so she could hear his voice. Instead, she waited two weeks for a letter from him, marking the days in her calendar. Her excitement was the only thing that kept her shift going faster than usual.
It was dark out when her and Eden finally punched their time cards, and when they stepped outside Samantha noted that the biting winter chill was returning to Liverpool. As her and Eden began their trek home, Samantha wondered what George was doing at this time. She often thought about what he was up to. From the letters he sent she had a sense of what he was doing at certain times. Since it was Thursday, she expected he'd be on stage right about now. She had received a picture of the boys in Hamburg from Paul in his first letter to her, and usually she imagined George like he was in that picture, standing on that small stage with his guitar in his hands wearing his dark button up, a blazer, and drainpipe pants. He usually was either extremely concentrated when he played, or sporting a silly grin as he looked to the other boys. The picture she had of the Silver Beetles was one of their first couple nights in Hamburg, and George was holding his guitar and staring at Paul with a half smile as Paul grinned back at him. John stood in-between the two of them standing in a Chuck Berry stance and looking down at his guitar behind the microphone. Stu was sporting his James Dean style, and Mona's boy Pete was peeking out from under Paul's guitar a few feet back behind the four boys. She had stared at that picture enough to have memorized it.
Her and Eden parted ways at the bus stop. Saying their usual goodbyes after using each other as a pillow on the ride back from the chippy. Samantha trudged back home, only pausing once when she passed Paul's house. She missed him like hell too, and hadn't gotten a letter from him since the first letter he sent to her. Samantha had thought about sending him another letter and scolding him for not responding to her. That was before she realized that he was sending letters to her mother, who by this point in time considered Paul her own son.
