Something In The Way She Moves (Beatles Fan Fiction)

We Can Work It Out

Franny was barely gone for three days and already, it felt weird to stay in the dorm. It was meant for two people and with only one person, it felt so empty. She constantly played records or blasted the radio to compensate for the lack of Franny's talking.

Tonight was the night of the ballet. Tessa was in her room, getting dressed up to go out. Usually, Franny was the one to help her with her hair and makeup. But with her being in Chicago, apparently too busy to pick up the phone, it meant that Tessa had to do it all by herself.

She grabbed the can of hairspray and sprayed another coat, creating a halo of aerosol. Her comb raked through her hair, desperately trying to keep it up in a semblance of a bouffant.

"Oh, Lord..." Tessa sighed as a piece of her hair fell in front of her eyes. Now she really wished Franny were here. There were many things that that girl was not good at. But for some reason, when it came to hair and makeup, Franny was always the one to go to. She was always able to get hair to work perfectly. And she always seemed to know what color lipstick would go best with skin tone and what they were wearing. It was a God-given talent. Unfortunately, the one night where Tessa could have really used her help, she was all the way back in America.

She attempted to comb it back into its place, still, her lack of experience was evident when she looked in the mirror. It didn't look terrible, but it certainly didn't look close to some of her better hairstyles.

Unfortunately, Tessa didn't have time to worry about her looks. Paul would be here any minute, and she didn't want to make them late because of her small hair crisis.

'This will have to do.' She thought to herself. Tessa put on some cherry red lipstick and her long white jacket. She pulled out a copy of Photoplay, and began to read while she waited for her date to make his arrival.

She was reading an article on Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor's tumultuous relationship, when she heard a tap at the window; so small and so quick, she thought it was a part of her imagination. Tessa waited for a second to see if the noise would occur a second time. When it didn't happen, she shrugged her shoulders and went back to reading the article.

THWAP!

"What the..."

THWAP!

"Alright, that's it." Tessa threw down her magazine and marched over to the window, fairly positive of who was responsible for the noise. She slammed open the window and confirmed her suspicions when she saw who was outside.

"What the hell, Paul?" She shouted down to him. "Are you trying to break down my window?"

"Sorry luv," Tessa rolled her eye. He didn't seem sorry at all. "It seemed to be the only way to get your attention."

"What did you throw at my window, anyway?"

"Snowballs!" Paul shouted, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Could you keep it down? I'd rather not have the whole neighborhood know that a Beatle is standing outside my window."

"It would be much easier to speak to you in a normal voice if you would only let me up." Paul dramatically replied. Tessa rolled her eyes. It was like this guy thought he was always putting on a show. "Please luv. I'm freezing me arse, standing out in the cold."

"It's open you know." Tessa replied, and then slipped into her room to grab her purse with the tickets. She heard as Paul opened her window and clumsily climbed into her room, nearly falling on the floor.

"Shhhhh! Nobody knows you're here or that I'm sneaking out with you. Let's keep it that way." Tessa whispered, cautious of how thin the walls were at this place.