Love, Love Me Do (Beatles story)

Chapter One - Hurl On the Head

"Hey Gary," a high pitched, girly voice screeched. Oh no, it was her, why couldn't she just get lost? She should just go play with her dollies or whatever she does. No one likes her anyways.

"Hey Tammy," my brother shouted, giving her a small wave and a big goofy grin. Well, I was just proved wrong by my brother. Gary likes her. But then again, her brother, Nicholas, likes me too, so, we're equal, right? Wrong. Nick's quite good looking and everything, what, with his big hazel eyes, long eyelashes that brushed the top of his high cheek bones when he blinked and lets not forget his lightly tanned skin, with the cute boyish freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks. He had soft, thick black hair and was tall. Every girl dreams about a boy like this, don't they?

Well, not me. But who could resist his cuteness? Besides me and anyone else that isn't a pervert. Yeah, that's right, Nick is NINE. Nine years old and apparently he's marrying me when he grows up.

You see why I don't like him now? If you don't, what is wrong with you?!?

"Can I play?" Tammy asked Gary as she twirled a piece of curly blond hair around her index finger, batting her fake eyelashes furiously. What. A. Flirt.

I looked at my brother who had his mouth hanging open, like a fish out of water, eyes open wide, taking in the wonderful sight of the blond haired, blue eyed bimbo standing before him, who was flirting for all she was worth. She was worth a lot, seeing as her father owned the company which manufactured in making hurls.

Quickly, before my brother could recover from his latest Tammy Mahon fantasy, I decided to take matters into my own hands. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure your dollies are inside calling your name," I said, my voice dripping heavily with sarcasm.

I was ignored by both Tammy and Gary, Gary seemed to have recovered the gift of speech by this point. "Of course you can play," my brother said eagerly.

'Oh great, this idiot cant even hit a *sliothar,' I thought angrily.

"Yay," she squealed happily, shooting a smug glance towards me. I really do hate her.

"Gaz, are we gonna play or are you just going to stand around flirting with that Blondie all day?" my brothers best friend (and my long time crush) Mark yelled in annoyance.

It was true, Gary had been flirting with Tammy for the last ten minutes, while I and the twenty eight other teenagers patiently (not so patiently on my part) awaited. Gary apparently didn't hear Mark as he didn't answer or give any indication that he'd heard, he seemed to be in deep discussion with Tammy.

"Charlene, are we playing?" Mark asked me this time.

"Yeah," I said glumly. "But seems like Barbie's playing too. . ." I said, nodding towards Tammy's poor hurl, which looked to be brand new, it had a disgusting, sparkly, pink rubber grip wrapped around the top of it.

The moment the words left my mouth both the teams groaned simultaneously. This is when my brother finally decided to put his flirting on hold and get back to our miniature hurling match.

"Okay everyone, Tammy's playing." Gary said, seemingly oblivious to all the death glares he was receiving. "Tammy'll be joining my team."

Oh great. That's the team I'm on.

With much sighing and grumbling on mine and everyone elses (sans Gary and Tammy) parts, we started to play our annual hurling game. Every year the best fifteen hurling players between the ages of thirteen and eighteen from O'connor street (other team) and Fairs avenue (us) have a match against each other. Tammy can't even use a hurl, but yet Gary's letting her play in the most important game of the year. What is he thinking?!?

"I've got it, I've got it!" Tammy squealed excitedly, as she swung her hurl, upside down at the sliothar.

I could feel my twitching as anger started building up inside my chest. "You're. Holding. The. Hurl. Upside. Down. Mahon." I managed to get out from between clenched teeth, I felt as though I was talking to a child, a very stupid child.

"Oh, how silly of me," she gigled, her voice sounding a bit muffled from inside her pink hurling helmet. I didn't even know you could get pink helmets.

As much as I wanted to say something scatting, I didn't. I bit my tongue, refusing to let words escape my lips. Growling, I chased after Patrick Lyons, who currently had the sliothar, which was bouncing up and down on his hurl as he ran towards the goals. I ran forwards trying to knock the sliothar off his hurl, but unfortunately for me someone else had a not so similar idea.

Tammy, leaped at Patrick's hurl, knocking her hard, helmeted head into my chest, causing me to fall to the ground, Patrick dropped his hurl and landed on top of my stomach and Tammy fell on top of Patrick.

"Get off of me, Blondie," Patrick grunted.

"Get off me, Lard Ass!" I gasped, my world was spinning around me like crazy.

Tammy got up, Patrick then stood up, extending a hand to help me up. "Sorry Char," he apologised.

"Not your fault, it's this stupid bimbo's," I said, glaring at Tammy. I took off my helmet, tucking it under my arm, "I QUIT! YOUR LITTLE BITCH RUINED EVERYTHING!" I screamed at my brother. I felt something hard come down on the top of my head, from all the shouts I figured that Tammy had hit me with her hurl. White spots danced before my eyes as pain exploded in my head, I collapsed to my knees, head reeling, banging my head on the ground, allowing the darkness to pull me under.

I had passed out.

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Authors Note: The Beatles are in the next chapter. :D

*Sliothar: Pronounced slitter, it's the ball used for hurling, an Irish sport, google it or look it up on youtube. Its a good game. The sliothar is a small ball, about the same size as a baseball.