Roses Are Red

Chapter 15

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Summer

June 26th, 1960

Rain fell down in heaps upon the roof of the Clarke residence. It made an almost comforting sound, much different than the sound of her heart pounding in her ears. Laid before Samantha was the envelope she had most recently gotten from her Grandmother. Enclosed were three different letters, all of which were Samantha's. She was astounded that the only thing that was written by her Grandma in the envelope was a small note paper, pink in color, that said:

My Darling Samantha,

I thought these might be useful in helping you decipher you're thoughts.

Samantha unfolded the first letter was dated May 15th, 1958. Most of it was her ramblings about George. It made her blush from embarrassment to read it. She sounded ridiculous talking about him in such detail, but the letter was from the height of her crush on George. It was childish and girly, and she put it down before she could finish reading it.

The second letter was much more bearable to read.

January 20th, 1959

Dear Grandma,

I hate the weather here, as I'm sure I've told you so many times before. It's been snowing for a week straight. Finally, we got a break and George and Paul came over today to help me shovel the snow. Mom paid them for their work in pastries. George had around five of Mom's scones, Paul had a Danish or two. They've both made themselves quite at home here, really. Paul doesn't even knock anymore. He's been showing up whenever he pleases for about a year now. George is a bit more polite about it all, but Mom still keeps a container of cookies in the top cupboard for him, which definitely says something about how often he's here.

George still comes over after school when he isn't practicing with the band. We sit together on the couch and do whatever we please. Sometimes it's a movie, other times it's a record, most of the time we read. He talks about taking me to a beach only a little ways out of town during summer. He thinks I'll like it there, and I don't doubt it. It's too bad neither of us have a car, otherwise we might actually be able to go. In the meantime, we like to go to the docks after school on sunny days. He's always making me laugh by joking around or teasing me. He can be quite sarcastic, but it suits him.

George's been growing taller lately. He doesn't really seem to stop. Paul's definitely grown taller too, but for whatever reason it's more noticeable when I'm standing next to George. He's also very lanky, I don't think there's a single muscle on him. Paul likes too tease him about it. His face has lost any baby fat it ever had too. His cheeks are more thin and I can see his jawline more. He's got the same great smile though, it's very infectious. And his eyes, Grandma, I've always loved his dark eyes. Those haven't changed either. Sometimes when we sit and read together, I'll catch him looking at me. I don't really get why, I look like a mess after a day of school, but I'll look up from my book and he'll be staring at me. When I catch him he always plays it off. It's quite irritating. I'd be lying if I don't look at him every once in a while, too, especially when he's playing his guitar. He treats the thing like his first born child, constantly cleaning it and gently placing it in its case. A part of me wonders what he'd do if it was accidentally dropped and dinged up a bit; though I doubt he'd ever let that happen. Whenever he plays in the living room he's extremely concentrated. Either he looks down at his fingers, trying to figure out something, or he looks up and squints at whatever's in front of him. When he plays on stage with John and Paul, he's grinning and moving around. Though I can always see when he gets concentrated again.