Keely's POV

I took a deep breath and looked at the shiny blue Ford Anglia at the dealer ship near my house. I wished I had enough money to buy it. It was just like George Harrison's first car. It was the most beautiful car I'd ever seen. I ran her hand over the hood and scrunched up my nose, knowing I'd never be able to afford it.

I currently drove a scrappy Ford two door pick up truck. It broke down more often than not. It was terrible. I opened the door and sat down in the driver seat. I put my hands on the wheel and sighed. This car was perfect for me. I knew if I got the amount of money needed to buy the car, my uncle would protest and take it from me, or he'd use my money to buy himself more beer and smokes.

"Can I help you with something miss?" the car dealer asked, his accent thick, but proper.

"Oh, no I'm actually just looking." I sighed looking at the knobs and things for the radio. It didn't have anything but a radio, which I found pretty cool.

"Ah well you know I'm proud to say that a certain British musician owned this car?" The dealer asked puffing out his chest proudly. I cocked an eyebrow and changed gears, keeping my foot on the break.

"Oh?" I asked putting back in park. The dealer nodded and patted the top of the car.

"Yes," he said nodding, "Sir George Harrison owned this very car when he was-"

"17," I whispered, more to myself. The dealer nodded and slapped the top of the car again. I winced and nodded.

"It's nice," I said, "but I'd never be able to afford it." I gave a laugh and rubbed the steering wheel longingly.

"Darn right you can't afford it!" The dealer said smugly. I kept myself from making a rude face at him, "That's right, little missy, I saw what you drove up in!" I rolled my eyes and the dealer told me to finish my little look and get on my way. I sat back in the seat and closed the door. The Windows rolled down manually so I rolled down the window. I flipped down the visor and was extremely surprised when the keys fell out into my lap. I looked at the little silver key for a long time before possibly making the worst decision of my life.

I looked out the window and I saw the dealer speaking with a business looking man and then I took a deep breath.

I flipped up the visor and jammed the key into the ignition. It started like nothing I've ever heard before. I smirked and put the Ford Anglia in gear before I gunned it out of the dealer ship parking lot. I could hear the dealer calling after me to stop, but obviously I didn't. It was clear that I couldn't just go home. My uncle would confiscate my car and then I'd be in major trouble if the police found me. I didn't want to stay with my uncle any longer anyway, so I drove and drove for as long as I could. That ended up behind the rest of the evening and into the night. As I drove in the dark, I wondered where I was.

I knew I was still in England, that was obvious, but I didn't have a clue where in England I was. I found myself driving into a tunnel with half the guide lights burnt out. I slowed down around a sharp corner and found another car was coming the other way. It had it's head lights on the brightest setting and I had to squint to see. As the car passed I could see a bit better, but when I turned to look at it to see what type of car it was, it was gone. It had vanished into thin air, as if it wasn't even there in the first place. I frowned and blinked hard before concluding that I was too tired to be driving anymore. When I came out of the tunnel I pulled over and turned off the car. I rolled up the window, pushed down all the locks on the doors and pulled my jacket tighter around me.

I switched down in the driver seat and closed my eyes. I went to sleep, hoping no one recognized me or the slightly famous car.

Then next morning, I woke up to someone shaking my shoulder.

"Keely, wake up, love." A voice with a thick accent that I knew, but couldn't place, said. I sighed and scratched my nose before gripping my coat tighter, "Keely, wake up, we're here. The lads are waiting for us inside!" The person laughed and shook my shoulders roughly again. I groaned and suddenly realized that there was someone in my car. I opened my eyes and sat up quickly. I hit my head on something hard and helped in pain. I squeezed my eyes shut and rubbed my forehead as the person next to me did the same.

"Sheesh, Keely, warn a guy next time." He grumbled. I made a face and turned to look at whoever it was. My eyes got a bit wide and I gasped. I was staring at George Harrison. He was sitting behind th wheel of my car, his car, and rubbing his forehead. He looked at me finally and he cocked an eyebrow, "Are you alright love?" I blinked at him. I was in a slight shock. I was looking at the George Harrison.

No, that can't be right, I thought, George Harrison died. He's been dead for 12 years, as sad as that may be. But there he was.

He shrugged and got out of the car. He held out his hand and I slid out of the driver's side door because of the British traffic on the passenger side. He put his hands on my shoulders and he appeared to be examining my forehead for any bruising. He kissed it quickly before he grabbed my hand and pulled me into a nice looking house.
This was officially the weirdest moment of my life.