Take Me Home

~3~

((At this point I'm kind of debating whether or not to make a part two of this book on how Axel and Freya get back to Germany. *sips red bull*))

Freya's POV

The Americans had arrived. Glen Miller was the newest and most popular radio station. All day, Freya listened to the jazzy and classical orchestra that played from the Clover Cafe radio. Even though she lived an hour or so from the nearest training camp for the American and Brittish soldiers, they all used their weekend passes to travel the area. For some odd reason, many ended up in her little town.

Freya groaned as she rushed around, struggling to keep up with everything. She had recently assumed a job at a local Cafe in order to keep money coming in. While her and Axel both had plenty of her grandparents money left, she knew it wouldn't last forever.

Now, she was a waitress.

Freya tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and scanned the Cafe for anyone waiting for assistance, hands smoothing the apron tied around her skirt outfit.

Freya began to fold napkins toward the back of the Cafe, her eyes cast downward as she focused. She tried to work everyday. She got paid decently, at least, especially in the middle of a war. Money wasn't cheap.

She thought about Axel and wondered what he was doing right now. Probably feeding the chickens. Or maybe grooming Cadence. She had asked him to. Maybe he was working on his English. Her cheeks turned a slight shade of pink as she continued thinking about him. She missed him.

She looked up sharply as the doorchime rang and watched as a group of young American soldiers walked into the Cafe, discarding their cigarettes into a nearby trashcan and looking around.

Freya scowled. They were all so bold. So brash. So noisy.

One of her teammates stepped forward, greeting them and seating them with a bright cherry lipped smile. Megan.

Megan walked toward Freya, catching eyes. "Freya!" Freya grinned softly. Megan was a small, blonde girl who looked to be around 15 or 16. She was very sweet and her and Freya had connected instantly, despite Freya being a couple years older.

Megan reached Freya. "Can you serve them? There are like 5 or 6. I already have a table outside, but if it's too much to ask I can-"

Freya smiled, "Hey, its okay. I've got it. Don't you worry." She cast her gaze toward the loud group. "But, wish me luck."

Megan grinned and thanked Freya, walking briskly off toward another table. Freya organized her silverware and napkins and then walked over to the group of soldiers who hardly quieted down. She deposited the items on the table and stood back.

She opened her voice to speak over the loud, eager American boys. "Excuse me, I'm Freya. I'll be helping you all today. Can we start with some-"

She was interrupted.

"Ma'am, I have never in my life laid my eyes on something so beautiful. You must be the most gorgeous creature I have ever seen." A young man, hair dark and short with a small goatee, and uniform rankless and holding no decorations, turned in his seat with a smile to face her.

She blushed and smiled and awkwardly nodded and looked away toward the others, who were snickering.

"Ma'am, forgive our dumb buddy here." Another soldier piped up, elbowing his dark haired friend.