I Want to Tell You [Beatles Fan-Fiction]

Twenty

 Amber wakes up to the sound of George taking a shower in the bathroom next to her room. She looks at the clock; 12:37pm.

She stands up and walks to the bathroom door, knocking. "Aye! When should we be going back to your place?"

"Give me a minute." George yells, turning off the water.

He walks out with a towel wrapped around his waist, pulling a comb through his hair. Amber clears her throat. "When are we leaving?"

"Right after I get dressed." He furrows his eyebrows together. "I don't suppose you have any clothes I could use?"

"Uh... No?" She laughs. He frowns.

"I should have thought of that."

Amber runs to her closet. "I've got a few things that look boyish. Sort of."

He moves to stand next to her. "Sort of?"

"Well... My jeans might fit you, but they'd look girly and be a little short. I have some button-downs that might work."

"I can just wear my jeans from yesterday. But my shirt is a bit..."

"Smelly?" Amber giggles, handing him a white shirt and faded yellow button-down.

"Yeah."

"Go put on your pants, then come back out here."  She pushes him into the bathroom.

"Happy now?" He smiles, walking back out a minute later with jeans on, but no shirt.

"Uh..." Amber stares at him, unable to say anything close to intelligent.

"Go ahead and stare." He puts his hand on his hips and poses.

"I will." She nods.

George pulls the white shirt over his head. "Should I be worried this fits me?"

"Not really. A few times, while playing guitar in the park, I dressed as a boy."

"Why?" He slips on the other piece.

"I got more money that way. Some said I looked like one of the Beatles." Amber takes a comb and hands it to him.

"Which one?" He laughs, giving the comb back. He ruffles his hair with his fingers.

"You'd never believe me." She runs the comb through her own hair.

"Me, wasn't it?" He squints. "I don't see it."

"Neither do I." She takes his hand and starts pulling him towards the door. "Let's go. I really want to meet the new drummer girl. I hope she's nice."

"She's a drummer. I've never met a drag drummer." George walks ahead if Amber down the stairs, and into the kitchen.

"And how many drummers have you met?" Amber rushes to catch up with him, and looks over his shoulder into the fridge.

"Tons." He elbows her, pointing at a cheesecake in the back. "Why didn't I know that was there?"

"Because." She quickly closes the refrigerator door. "It's not meant to be eaten yet."

"Aw, just on piece, Ams?" George juts out his lower lip, making a pouty face.

"No!" Rebecca walks in, hitting him with the towel in her hand. "I bought that. It's for when I make my announcement to everyone."

"Here, have an apple." Amber takes one for George and one for herself.

"Fine." He grumbles, taking the fruit.

"Now, we better be going!" Rebecca slides into her fluffy coat and lifts up her matching blue umbrella.