AN: Hi, everyone! I'm HappyPlatypus, and I'm going to be writing every other chapter of this story. Thanks to rubberevolveroad64 for letting me collaborate on this story with her, and thanks to all of the readers! Please read and review!

Luckily, I got nothing but a warning from Mrs. Swanson. I'd have to be more careful about what I said around teachers, or I'd probably get a week of detention. I hate detention. It just forces me to wait even longer before going home.

As I packed my books into my bag after the last bell, I started wondering what was going on in my head. Ever since talking to that awful Cyndi, I had been hearing voices. Male, Liverpudlian voices. Was it possible to listen to the Beatles too much?

The voices quieted down on the way home, but the moment I opened the front door of my house, they started again.

"D'ya think this is her house?"

"Why else would she be here?"

"What if it's her friend's house? Or maybe she lives with another relative, like you and Mimi."

"But then it would still be her house, 'cause she'd live there."

"No, it would be her relative's house!"

"Rings, using that logic, her house would be her parents' house."

"Whatever."

It sounded exactly like Ringo Starr and John Lennon!

I had to tell someone about this. But who? My mom, who would call every doctor on the planet before I was even finished talking? My dad, who wouldn't be home till five, and would probably be too busy to pay attention to me? My best friend Lilah, who, with her too-logical mind, would dismiss it as stress and exhaustion? I was sure it was more than that.

That left my 11-year-old, video-game-obsessed brother. As annoying as he could be, he might actually listen to me. And he happened to be home because his elementary school had let out early for teacher in-service.

I walked to his room and knocked on the door. "Leo!"

"What?"

I opened the door and went into his room. Leo was sitting on his bed, his eyes glued to the screen of his Nintendo DS.

"Leo," I repeated.

"Mm," he mumbled.

"Gimme that." I took the DS out of his hands and held it up so he couldn't reach it.

"Hey!" he protested, grabbing at my arms.

"Listen to me for a second," I insisted.

He sighed, sat back, and folded his arms across his chest. "What?" He paused and tilted his head. "Y'know, in that light, you look like your head's on fire."

I rolled my eyes. People were always making jokes about my red hair, and my brother was no exception. My parents and Leo all had dark brown hair that was almost black, and it really annoyed me when people told me I didn't resemble my parents at all. And I absolutely hated all the family photos, where I looked like the only damn coal that had sparked to life in a fiery blaze that somehow avoided everyone else.

"Ugh, Leo, just shut up, please," I groaned.

"Betcha anything he's her brother," came a voice that sounded strangely similar to George Harrison's.

"Gee, how'd ya figure that one out?" said Paul McCartney's voice.

"Ah, shut it, Paulie," replied George.

"All right, I shut up like you told me to. Why're you just standing there with a weird expression on your face?" Leo complained.

"I hear voices in my head," I told him. "The Beatles' voices."

Leo burst out laughing. "Oh, really? Do they sing to you? 'Hey, Kass, don't make it bad, take a sad song, and knit a sweater…'"

"It's 'make it better,' not 'knit a sweater,'" I said through gritted teeth.

"But my version's funnier."

"It's not supposed to be funny!" I exclaimed indignantly.

"But seriously, Kassy, you need to get a grip," Leo told me. "You should stop listening to the Beatles for a week. Or a year. Or the rest of your life."

Leo hates the Beatles, and he'd do anything to get me to stop listening to them. Unfortunately for him, that's never gonna happen.

"You're no help." I tossed the DS back to him and went into my room.

I sat on my bed and looked up at one of my many Beatles posters. "Why are you in my head?"

"So you really can hear us," said a voice that sounded like John Lennon.

My eyes widened. I was talking to the Beatles! Unless it was all in my imagination. But how could I figure out whether it was real or not? Simple. If they could answer something that I didn't know, it was real. "Ringo, what are your parents' names?"

"Richard and Elsie," he replied.

I looked it up on the Internet. Those were their names.

So, unless I had guessed really well, it was official. The Beatles were in my head.