Holy shit, it's been ages since I was last on fanfiction, or wrote anything for that matter! It took a PM from Mo Starkey to remind me about the existence of the sight, so you can thank/blame her for this exceptionally mediocre chapter you are about to read

'What, this?' I said, holding up the phone. It was an iPhone, the latest model. Why did I have to have the coolest phone but in 1964?

George nodded his head. He was looking at the phone warily. I guess he had never seen anything like it.

'Oh, this is just a thing I found on the street, I've been trying to figure out how it works and what exactly it does,' I said with a nervous giggle. I was praying he wouldn't ask any more questions, since I hadn't come up with more of a story yet. I was shit at thinking on my feet.

'Okay then…' he said, trailing off towards the end. Yay, another person who now thinks I'm absolutely insane, just what I needed. And someone who I actually admired? This day was turning shit quickly.

George was beginning to walk back into the compartment when my phone vibrated. George turned back around in surprise to see what at happened. Whatever about before, I really REALLY hated Olivia now. Still, wasn't going to stop me from checking what the text was.

I entered my password (1967, year Sgt. Pepper's was released, Kurt Cobain was born and Layne Staley was born. An excellent year for music, hence it being my password), unlocked the phone and read the text.

'Oh cum on, stop being such a bitch Cat'

Well she could go fuck herself. And so I told her.

At this point, I had completely forgotten that I was in 1964 and that George Harrison was looking at me with the most bewildered expression I had ever seen, I was too pissed off at that bitch. I tapped my foot impatiently, waiting for a reply. I wanted I reply so I could properly bash her.

'I thought you said you just found it on the street, but you seem to have a good idea of what to do with it…'

That brought me back to where I was. I avoided looking George straight in the eye and smiled awkwardly.

'If I told you, you'd probably think I'm crazier than you already do,' I said.

'Don't see how that's possible.'

'Fuck you!'

'Langauge!'

'Yet again, fuck you.'

George shook his head. 'You're the weirdest bir- I mean, girl I've ever met.' Where did you say you were from again?'

'Told you I'm Irish.'

'And when were you born?'

'1st November 1994.'

I quickly covered my mouth as though that would somehow stop the words from ever have being said, but it was too late, the damage had been done. I would probably be put in a mental asylum, where they would experiment on me, and send electric shocks thorough my brain to try 'cure' me, and then they would operate on my brain and poke around at it, giving me serious brain damage…..

'You know, I wouldn't believe that from anyone else, but from you luv, it seems plausible.'

I smiled at him. Fuck it, George was my favourite Beatle right now, not Paul. He was sweet, even if he thought I was a complete lunatic.

'Come on, we'd better go back to the others, they probably think we're fucking or something. But I want an explanation later,' he said with a grin, before opening the compartments door and walking in. I followed his in and sat down between John and the window.

'What were you two up to out there?' John asked me.

'Oh, nothing,' I said with a slight blush, confirming in the minds of the other three that yes, we had been fucking.