BAD ROMANCE [George McFly]

Chapter I // Evelyn T.

George McFly?

Yeah, I knew a few things about George McFly. 

He was a major nerd, with a hooked nose and the personality of a scared deer. Personally, I didn't particularly like him all that much. However, that didn't stop the fact that the smaller half of my brain secretly rooted for him to give Biff Tannen - my best friend - a mean punch in the skull for sometimes being the biggest douche bag of the fucking millennium. His hair was cut in such a ridiculously stupid and nerdy way that every time he was in my presence I had to stop myself from punching him in the stomach for even having the damn thing. Although, I suppose, at least it wasn't a bowl cut. Then I would've really punched him in his nerdy guts.

Nevertheless, it doesn't matter how willing I was to give him a right good decking, I copy his math homework and I don't think he'd be nearly as accommodating for me to copy if I did.

Not that I cared if he wanted to give me the homework. Biff would've beaten him up if he refused. Or pranked him. Or humiliated him. Or all three, really. So you see the poor nerdy guy sitting next me fidgeting with his left shirt cuff really had no choice either way. Ahh, c'est la vie.

Sitting reluctantly next to him as my HB pencil scribbled messily across the page; my eyes scanned back and forth at his page to mine. It was silent between us - rightfully so; he shouldn't be speaking to me. The only noise that could be heard was the milk-bars jukebox playing popular 50's pop music and idle chatters of the customers of the place. I had a Strawberry Milkshake in my right hand and I was unconsciously sipping it with my tongue swirled around the pink straw. The sweet taste of the fake strawberry flavouring exploded into my mouth and the feeling made me just a little bit happier in this dead-beat town of Hill Valley. The clock-tower rang twelve times, signifying that it was officially midday. 

"A-Are you left-handed?" McFly asked with his stupid stutter. My eyes flickered from the page to his beryl coloured eyes - which, I had to admit were the only decent looking thing about him. Why the fuck is he speaking? I thought to myself. The expression of anger probably shone through my face because he quickly averted eyes and looked over to where the busboy Goldie Wilson was cleaning the table. It was silent for a few seconds as my anger subsided.

"I am. They do say left-handed people are more creative." He turned back to me and had the audacity to smile slightly. I sighed in annoyance. Due to my reaction most probably, his smile turned into a frown. My hand started scribbling on my paper, perhaps faster now. After a few minutes of awkward silence for him as he tried to recover, I had completed the sheet. My feet touched the polished floor as I swirled on the red stool to get up. I grabbed my copied homework in the pocket of my shorts and then slid his paper back to him. Placing both palms on the table in front of me, I turned my head to look at McFly.

"For the sake of your balls, don't even try and pull that shit again with me. Got it, Candy-Ass?" McFly quickly nodded - slightly terrified - and my mouth lifted up into a smirk. I swiped my half-drunken Strawberry milkshake off of the counter, beginning to sip at it. Before I could finish it, my ears heard Biff's footsteps as he entered the milk-bar with the goons I call my friends.