Hi guys! This is my first fan fiction ever! I love The Beatles, and I love writing stories, so I thought I'd give it a go. I'm a Norwegian, but I don't think many people here would be able to read my stories if I wrote them in Norwegian. Therefore I decided to do them in English. I figured it would be a good way to improve my language skills. Just keep in mind that I am no native speaker, and that I probably do a lot of stupid grammar mistakes. I guess the first chapter is a bit short. I have pretty much the whole story figured out,and I'm planning on making the following chapters longer.

Please review and tell me what you think!

Like every other person around here, I do NOT own The Beatles...

Chapter 1 - The boy next door

Liverpool, September 1957

A loud knocking on the front door drew my attention away from my task of unpacking several cardboard boxes containing just about all my personal belongings. I ran quickly down the stairs, and opened the door. A tall, dark haired boy stood outside. He was around my age, maybe a year older, it was hard to tell.

"Hello." I smiled to him. The boy continued looking at me. I raised an eyebrow. "May I help you with something?"

"Oh. I.. I just came over to introduce myself." he stuttered. "I live in the house next door." He pointed to the house to the left of the one I had just moved into.

I reached out my hand. "I'm Jenny Davies." He shook it. "Paul McCartney," he said.

"It's nice to meet you Paul. How old are you?" "I'm fifteen." I smiled. "Me too!" I said enthusiastically.

"Where are you from Jenny?" "London. My father got a job here in Liverpool, that's why we moved."

Paul smiled. "Well, welcome." he said. Suddenly, a loud voice interrupted. "Jenny, who are you talking too?" My sister Frances showed up right behind me. She looked interested at Paul. "Paul, this is my sister Frances."

Paul reached out his hand again. "It's nice to meet you." he said polite.

Frances smiled at him, turned around and went back into the house, and yelled to my mum: "Mum! I can't believe it. We haven't lived here for one bloody day yet, and Jenny is already talking to a really sweet guy. It's so bloody unfair!"

I could feel my cheeks turn red, and noticed that Paul looked a bit embarrassed too, just as my mother told Frances to mind her language. Only moments later, my mum showed up, wearing a flower printed dress, carrying an empty cardboard box. She looked curious at Paul.

"Hello there. I'm Martha Davies." Paul shook her hand and smiled. "It's nice to meet you Mrs. Davies. I'm Paul McCartney. I live in number 20."

"It's nice to meet you too. Well, I see that you two are getting to know each other. I won't interrupt." she smiled again, sent me a long gaze with her eyebrows raised, as if to say: "Frances was right. He is handsome" and went back into the living room.

"I'm sorry about that." I said to Paul. He laughed a bit. "No worries. I like your family. How old is your sister?" " She is almost eighteen. And I'm telling you, you better watch out. I'm pretty sure Frances has fancied every single guy in London. And as soon as she has found someone, she won't let the poor fellow go easily. You better warn all your friends about the new girl from London. You don't happen to have an older brother? Because I'm pretty sure he would be a target."

Paul laughed again. "No older brother." he said. "Just a younger. Mike. He is only thirteen, so I guess he is a bit young for her." "I guess so. I…"

I was interrupted by the loud sound of something smashing to the ground, and the noise of glass shattering. "OH FUCK!" I could hear Frances yell from the kitchen. I had a bad feeling this might be about the box containing our great-grandmother's crystal glasses, which had been standing on the kitchen counter not long ago.

"Frances Amelia Davies, what have you DONE!" my mother screamed. I sighed. "I can't take this any more. I got to get away from here." Paul looked at me. "Care to go for a walk?" he said. "I could show you around?" I nodded, and grabbed my coat. "I would love to," I said, and closed the front door safely behind me.