The Beatles Story

CHAPTER 10

"The Quarrymen sit around me laddy, you can sit next to her" John points towards me. George stares at him for a moment, almost in a challenging manner. Paul murmurs something to George, nudging him to sit next me. I watch him make his way beside me, my eyes follow him slump himself down onto the chair, crossing his arms with a serious expression on his face. I take notice of his clothing and facade, denim jeans, a brown button up shirt under his denim jacket. His hair is slicked back, exposing his face. I've always found George Harrison as the good looking Beatle, now seeing the profile of his young face was fascinating to me, just as much as seeing old photographs of his youth. I shift around my chair looking down, wondering how to begin a conversation with him. I lift up my face and he's still looking straight ahead. My body leans a little closer to him, but retrieves back from hesitation.  My mind raced, trying to figure out what to say to him or if I should even speak to him, especially since he just got rejected by John. Without turning his head to me, I can see his eye dart to me, noticing how I constantly look over at him and then back down at the ground. He furrows his brows, most likely confused and weirded out by my behavior.  John notices that we are both seated in silence. He shifts his body to us, interrupting his own conversation with his band.

"You both look like you're at a funeral! Go on you two! Speak to one another!" John cried. As always, his bandmates laughed at his comments, "Go on mate, speak to the little girl".

I furrow my eyebrows at John. George rolls his eyes slightly still with his arms crossed against his chest. He leans back against his chair and closed his eyes. My body turns to him and I finally begin a conversation, "H-Hi, I'm Rosa".

George opens one eyelid to me.

"I know, I heard it the first time", he says. 

I think of something else to say, "So you play guitar?"

"Yes", he replies. George sits up and finally turns to me, "You're  not from here are ye? That accent is American".

I smile, "Oh yeah, I'm from America, I'm here as an exchange student...I'm also staying with John and his Aunt".

"I thought you were his bird", he says. My eyes widen a bit at his assumption.

"No i'm not his...bird", I reassure him, cringing at the last word. He half smiles at me before he looks down at the ground. Once again I search for something else to say, "I'm sorry about John, he can be a little rude sometimes, you will soon get used to it once you work together".

George lifts up his face with a puzzled expression, "Who said I will be working with him?"

My eyes widen again.

"Erm...", Is all that leaves my mouth. I manage to compose myself and try to find a way to make sense to my so called advise. I shrug my shoulders as I begin to explain, "Well, I mean if John decides to recruit you into the group you'll have to work together"

"I don't believe so, i'm too young to be in his band and he seems to bugged to have me around him, I don't think there is a future with me in his band", he explains.

My eyes bounce around once I hear his last sentence escape his mouth. I can't help but grin at the idea of how much power I have here. The power of being the only one who knows of the significance of every person i've had the honor to be surrounded by. The power I hold of knowing the future that lays ahead for the band and the destiny of each member. John suddenly shakes my arm before I can say anything else to George.

"Bloody hell I have to finish that thing for school!", he cries.

"W-what?",

"Gather your stuff!",