Drop Dead | Sam Fender

Chapter Seventy Eight

Sam

Although I looked back on my breakdown to Rory with embarrassment, I was grateful for it in a way as it marked the start of my grief healing. I knew I wasn't the easiest to deal with in the weeks after Tyler's death and everyone around me was a literal godsend for putting up with it, especially my girlfriend. I was just relieved that for once, I hadn't snapped at her in anger but that was probably because I internalised it all, which wasn't the best method of coping.

As the days passed, I learnt to live with the grief. It didn't hurt any less knowing one of my friends was no longer with us but I took comfort in those around me instead of shutting them all out. It made coping so much easier.

We had taken baby steps as a group, slowly easing me back into being social. It was Rory's idea, I knew it was. I wasn't actually meant to know but sometimes I could read her like a book. I suppose it came with the territory of knowing someone for almost five years.

"Hello, you," Rory grinned as she leaned over the bar, which luckily, wasn't as sticky as it usually was for around nine o'clock in the evening on a Wednesday night.

"Hi," I smiled whilst finishing drying off the pint glass in my hand. I surveyed my surroundings, taking note of how my bar manager was nowhere in sight and quickly reached over to press a quick kiss against my girlfriend's lips.

"Mmm," she hummed in contentment as her lips tugged into a sly smile. "What was that for?"

"I dunna, I'm just happy," I told her with a shrug.

"As much as I'm glad yous are alright for a change, try and keep the PDA to a minimum, aye?" Shannon snorted from the opposite end of the bar whilst pulling a pint for one of our regulars, Billy.

"Fuck off," I grumbled teasingly as my face grew warm from being called out. Rory just giggled at my embarrassment delivered by Shannon's teasing. She was like my older sister and so, it was inevitable it would come. It didn't mean I ever enjoyed it though.

"Oh, leave 'em be, Shan," Billy laughed as he waved the barmaid off. "To be young and in love again."

"Haven't yer been married for like thirty-odd years?" Rory asked with a laugh. "Betty's not gan be happy if she hears yer."

"Aye, we're not eighteen anymore though, pet," he smiled knowingly, thanking Shannon as she handed him the pint of Guinness she had just pulled before sauntering back to his table.

"I've got me eye on yous, reet?" Shannon warned us, pointing her index finger between us as she moved to serve the next customer. Something I probably should have been doing.

"What yer having to drink, darlin'?" I questioned. "Fosters?"

"Nah, best not have any tonight, I've got a mock exam tomorrow afternoon," she told me. "I dunna why I chose to do biology, I've not got a bleedin' clue."

"Scarl, yer say that every time and still end up with good grades," I teased. "Coke?"

"Shut up," she murmured, her mouth stretching into a smile that she desperately tried to bite down. "Please."

I moved around behind the bar, artfully dodging Shannon who was doing the same, grabbing a can of coke from the fridge and a glass. I slid it over to her, accepting the change in her hands with a small thanks.

"You're gan be fine," I assured her as I rested my hand atop hers. "Stop worrying so much."

"Wow, it's like yer solved all me problems, Fender," she gasped mockingly. "Dunna why my dad's spending so much money on my therapist, he should just hire you."