Back To The Future || Part Zero

Chapter Nine

The next day, Marty brought George to the malt shop. It was after classes and all the high school students were in there, including Eileen.

"I don't know if I can go through with this!" George moaned as they drew closer to the building. Marty dodged two kids on homemade scooters as they sped by them on the sidewalk. His eyes followed them for a moment, the vehicles reminding him of skateboards.

"George, she's beautiful, right?" Marty said to him. "She's nice, she's decent, she's the kind of girl you'd like to marry, right? And there's nothing in the world you'd like more than to take her to that dance, right?"

"Well...yeah...." George admitted.

"Okay, then!" Marty said brightly.

Suddenly, George stopped, turned and faced him, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Wait a minute -- who are you, anyway? What are you doing this for?" he asked, his hands on his hips.

Marty hesitated. "Let's just say I have a vested interest in you and Eileen going to this dance, all right? Look," he added, pointing though the window of the malt shop. "There she is...."

Eileen was sitting at a table with Madge and some other girl, each having ice cream sodas and talking.

"Go in there and invite her," Marty told George, nudging him in the direction of the doors.

But George stayed put. "What do I say?" he worried.

"Say what you were supposed to say in the cafeteria," Marty prompted him.

George shook his head quickly. "Oh, no! That was for the cafeteria! This is different!"

"Christ, it's a miracle I was even born!" Marty muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes.

"Huh?"

"Nothing," he said quickly. "Look, I'll write it down for you, okay?" Marty took the notebook George had in his hands and ripped a page out. He pulled his pen out and started jotting down some helpful lines. George stared at the pen as he wrote.

"What is that? A pencil that writes in ink?" he wondered.

It was Marty's turn to be confused. "Huh?"

"Lemme see that." George plucked the pen from his hand and looked it at it carefully. " 'Bike fine point?' "

"Bic," Marty corrected. "It's a Bic pen."

George frowned. "How do you fill it with ink?" "Fill it with ink?"

Marty repeated. "You don't fill it -- oh come on, George!" He pushed him into the malt shop, tired of the procrastination. As soon as they entered, Marty steered him in the direction of Eileen's table and handed him the paper he had written on.

"There she is," he said in a low voice. "Just go and ask her. I'll be sitting right here," Marty added, taking an empty seat at the counter.

George looked at him, and then over at Eileen.

He took a deep breath and stepped forward, then suddenly veered back to the counter. "Gimme a strawberry malted," he told the soda jerk. Marty shook his head, wondering if he would ever get to Eileen.

While he waited for the drink, George examined the paper Marty gave him and mouthed the dialog to himself, apparently trying to memorize it. A moment later, the malt came and he took a swig of it, the drink leaving an unnoticed pink moustache on his face. He turned around and started to approach Eileen. Finally, Marty thought.

George was still several feet away when Eileen looked up and spotted him. "Hi, George," she said brightly.

He took a step back, startled. "Uh, hi, Eileen," he mumbled.