Love, Love Me Do (Beatles story)

Chapter Three - 16th August 1962

The next morning I woke up earlier then usual. I lay in bed, trying to recall the events of the previous day; the disastrous hurling match of the previous day started replaying over and over again in my head. I groaned as I remembered Gary allowing Tammy to play, how Tammy had been driving me insane with her constant screw ups, how I had quit and taken off my helmet because of her and how she had slammed her hurl down on the top of my head and knocked me out. But what had happened then? 

Maybe Gary had brought me home? 

Or I could be at the hospital?

I took a deep breath, inhaling my surroundings, not wanting to open my eyes yet because I was still clinging to the edge of sleep, if I opened my eyes I knew I wouldn't be able to get back to sleep. Well, good news was I wasn't at the hospital, but I should've already known that by the silence. 

Bad news was this wasn't my room either, it smelled of cigarettes and. . . something else. . . I was probably in Gary's room, he's a very heavy smoker. I bet he didn't want Mum and Dad finding out what he'd let happen to me. Coward.

I thought back to the dream I'd had when I'd been knocked out; I'd dreamt about meeting the Beatles in a alley way, I remembered that George had been drunk and couldn't remember his name or age, I'd compared George to an over weight sumo wrestler, Ringo had pushed him and he'd fallen on top of me, I'd met Paul, John and Ringo too and they were FINE! The boys and I had a group hug, they'd invited me to stay with them and we'd set off for the nearest chipper to get some fish and chips. Afterwards we'd gone back to the boys apartment and eaten, then I'd fallen asleep.

I suppose you think I'm stupid to agree to stay with four young men, who I'd just met and didn't know anything about? But it was just a dream, so why the hell not? It isn't like I'd normally do anything like this, but it wouldn't really matter what I did because I was only dreaming.

Anyways, I was wondering what had awoken me, when I heard a bunch of guys laughing. That's what had woken me. It was probably Gary and some of his mates.

I stretched and opened my eyes. . . I gasped, I wasn't in Gary's room. 

I didn't recognise this room at all. . . I was in a strangers room, in a strangers bed.

Where the hell was I? I was panicking, my heart was beating like crazy and my breathing was ragged and shallow.

I looked around the room, I was definitely in a guys room, that much was obvious.

I was in a king sized bed, with a red duvet draped over me, the pillow case was red and the sheets were red too. The one time cream carpet, that now was a grayish colour was full of holes burned into it with cigarette butts, the bed side table had two ash tray's, which were over flowing with ashes and there was a half bottle of cider on it, along with a pair of drum sticks, and a drum set in the corner, there were a pile of clothes (most likely dirty) in the corner.

I got out of the bed and a wave of relief washed through as I saw that I was fully dressed. At least no one took advantage of me in my unconscious state. I walked across the room, quietly opened the door of the room and tip toed out, I made my way down the hallway to hear what the voices were saying.

". . . And then you were all like 'I'm comfortable? The view is rather nice too!'" A man with a strong Liverpool accent exclaimed, as he and two others burst into loud, raucous laughter. Oh God, he sounded exactly like John from last night.

"Well, it must of been true if I said that!" George sounded embarrassed. Damn, they were talking about me! My cheeks heated up as I started to recall exactly how drunk and stupid George had been last night.