Disclaimer: I only own Amanda and Chris and the plot that doesn't coincide
with the movie and yada yada yada.
George had already fled down the street and all of the family was already inside. I stood across the street and looked through the window. They put him on a bed and left the room. A girl sat next to him and stared down at Marty's unconscious figure. I didn't like the fact that she was up there and I wasn't. I walked up to the door and knocked on it. Stella opened the door and invited me in. Ah, the hospitality of the 50s. She asked me into the kitchen and offered me a drink before I had the chance to introduce myself. Stella sat me down in a large armchair in the living room.
"Now what brings you to our house?" She asked, placing and ice-cold Pepsi in my hand.
"Um." What could I say? "The boy that your husband hit with the car. yeah he's my-" I was about to say friend, but she cut me off.
"I'm so sorry about that." She looked at me, expectantly.
"Amanda.Amanda Brown."
"Nice to meet you, I'm Stella Baines." My mouth hung open. I thought that was Marty's mother's maiden name. Stella called up to the second floor. "Lorraine! The boy's girlfriend is here!"
"Ma'am, Marty and I are-"
"Who?"
"Marty- the boy your husband hit."
"Oh, yes."
"We're not.he's not my.your daughter's name is Lorraine?"
"Yes. is there something wrong?" Of course something was wrong. This was Marty's mother's house!
"That's my.sister's name." I covered quickly, but not very slyly.
"Oh." Just then, Marty's mother ran down the stairs and stormed into the living room, books in hand. She stared at me with an evil look in her eyes, and then smiled pleasantly to her mother.
"I've got to go to school, I'm late. Keep on eye on Calvin."
"Calvin?" I asked, confused.
"That is his name, isn't it?" She rushed out of the door before I could correct her. Her mother picked the baby up out of the playpen and ignored his screaming.
"Let me take you, Lorraine!" She turned back towards me. "I'll be back soon, make yourself at home." And then they were gone.
I dashed up the stairs, rather quickly for someone who hasn't slept a wink in the past twenty-four hours, and opened the door to the first room I encountered. Inside was a large king bed adorned with a white comforter. I closed the door before I could notice any more. I opened the door across the hallway. There lay two twin beds side by side with about four feet of space between them. I saw Marty laying in the bad farthest from the window. The blanket came up to the middle of his chest, and his arms were lying above the comforter, at his side. I sat on the bed and put my hand on the side of his face. I looked at this serene expression and smiled.
"What have we gotten ourselves into?" I asked the unconscious Marty, who looked more like a boy than the seventeen year old that he was. Small beads of sweat began to form on his forehead and cheeks. I reached up and pulled the large cord hanging from the ceiling.
The fan blades started moving slowly, but quickly sped up. I felt the cool air and slipped off my shoes. I put them at the end of the empty bed and slid under the covers. My head hit the pillow and I was down for the count.
My father opened the door to the bedroom. I sat up in my bed and realized that Marty was lying next to me. I got out of bed; Marty followed. Dad embraced me and then Marty. I bent down and stroked Einstein's back.
"I've got something for you!" My father exclaimed. He held out a stack of mail and put it into my hands. I sifted through the pile and pulled out a large, white envelope with the Princeton University crest in the upper left corner. Was this an acceptance letter? I looked up at my father, but he was gone. Marty had his arm around my shoulder and was staring down at the letter I held in my hands. Braking Marty's hold on me, I turned around and looked for my father, but a woman with indistinguishable facial features confronted me.
"That is your name, isn't it? It's written all over your underwear." My eyes snapped open and I was aware of the tears in my eyes and the sweat all over my body. I remained motionless. Marty was awake and sitting up in bed talking to his mother. It was dark out. How long had I slept?
"Uh, no, they call me Marty."
"Nice to meet you, Calvin.Marty." She said seductively, getting up from her chair and sitting on the bed next to Marty. "You don't mind if I sit here, do you?" He was visible uncomfortable.
"No, sure fine, good, fine." He rambled on, moving father and farther from his mother. She reached out to touch his head. "That's a pretty big bruise you got there." Marty dodged her hand and tumbled off the bed, hitting the floor with a loud thud. I tried not to laugh. Lorraine's mother called from downstairs.
"Lorraine, are you up there?"
"Oh my God, it's my mother!" She said, jumping off the bed. "Quick, put your pants back on." She threw him his pants and left the room. I rolled over sleepily and wiped the sweat from my face and the tears from my eyes. I tried to get the redness that appeared on my cheeks to go down, but that was a failed effort, as I felt the same heat on my face the entire time. I heard Marty fall over and he cussed at himself under his breath. He walked over to the bed and he stood over me. Marty put his hand on my face just like I had done on his earlier. He whispered, barely audible.
"I'll save him if it kills me." His hand migrated to my shoulder, which he gave a slight shake. I slowly opened my eyes as if I had been sleeping and noticed that the smile on his face disappeared. I stayed lying down. The bed was comfortable. "We've got to get out of here, quickly." Marty extended his hand and I accepted it warmly, allowing him to tug me up from the warm caverns of Lorraine's sheets. I flew out of bed and into Marty's arms, my hand still on his. I looked up at him and gave him a short, innocent peck on the lips. I turned away from him to get my shoes and he grabbed my arm, turning me back into him. Marty captured my lips with his own and I didn't care about anything, even the tears streaming down my face. I didn't pay attention when the door to the bedroom open and shut. Nor was I concerned with Chris. All that mattered was us. We were together, and it wasn't a dream. But I broke the moment and fell through his arms onto the floor, crying hysterically.
I hadn't accepted, or even believed that my father had died until this previously perfect moment. I had cluttered my mind with trivial concerns such as Chris and Marty to block the reality from slipping through. Kissing Marty must have cleared my mind of the confusion just enough for the truth to seep into my porous brain. The door opened and a little girl opened the door just as I grabbed my shoes and failed to put them on.
"Dinner's ready." She said to us but, staring at me, and probably the sea of mascara that was falling down my cheeks. She turned around and yelled down the stairs. "They ARE NOT kissing, Lorraine!" Marty looked at me, but I didn't really comprehend what was going on around me.
"Jesus Christ." Marty whispered under his breath. I tried to wipe my eyes, but the second they were cleared, more salty drops replaced them. Marty helped me up, hesitantly, however, and assisted me with putting on my shoes. He escorted me down the stairs and I couldn't stand the family staring at me, so I left. I threw a 'thank you' over my shoulder as I left. Marty exited behind me a few seconds later.
The open door flooded the lawn with light and I kept walking, or at least trying to walk. I stopped and sighed, trying to calm down. Marty put his arm around my shoulder.
"Hey, come on, it'll be alright. We'll get him back!" I squirmed out of his grasp and walked down the sidewalk in the direction opposite the one we arrived. I took a few steps and my knees started to falter and then I collapsed onto the concrete. When I reached out for something to break my fall, I realized I was standing upright. Marty's arms were linked under my armpits and had caught me before I hit the ground. "Let me help you!" I just really wanted to be by myself and cry for a while. A long while. He put his arm around my waist and we started to walk along the sidewalk. I tried to struggle out of it, but I was too depressed and Marty's grip on me was too tight. He noticed though. "I know you're upset, but you're going get hurt if you don't let me help you."
A taxicab pulled out of a driveway. Marty helped me steady myself against a tree before he took off after the yellow car. I leaned against the tree and allowed myself to slide down the trunk until I was sitting down on the sidewalk. I put my head in my hands and cried. I didn't care how loud I was, or how big of a scene I was creating. I cared that the person that I cared about most died before my eyes!
A car pulled up and a door slammed. Marty had hailed the cab.
"Well, lookie what we have here." A loud, unpleasant, but familiar voice boomed above me. I looked up at Biff and tried to look as upset as I could. He looked down, actually concerned. "What happened? Did that little sailor guy dump you?" I couldn't find my voice, so I didn't respond. But Biff didn't deserve a response anyway. He sat down next to me and I tried to get up, but he pulled me back down. "Well, now that he's out of the way, I'll do you a favor and let you date the best looking guy in school."
"Leave me alone, Biff." I had another attempt at leaving, but he wrapped his hand around my waist and pulled me into his lap. I continued to sob at my previous rate. Biff tried to kiss me, but I craned my neck out of his reach and slapped him in the face. He raised his hand to hit me back, but Marty stopped it mid-air.
"What the hell?" Biff asked, confused. He turned around and stood up. I toppled to the ground.
"Jesus Christ! Look what you've done to her. She looks even worse."
"What I've done to her. What are you talking about, butthead?" I suddenly was overcome with the immense desire to sleep. I drifted off as I heard fists intersecting with faces and stomachs.
A/N: Sorry. Forget about the once a week. I can't do that. I've got practice every night for tennis and can't get home until at least 10. Maybe once every other week. PLEASE REVIEW.
George had already fled down the street and all of the family was already inside. I stood across the street and looked through the window. They put him on a bed and left the room. A girl sat next to him and stared down at Marty's unconscious figure. I didn't like the fact that she was up there and I wasn't. I walked up to the door and knocked on it. Stella opened the door and invited me in. Ah, the hospitality of the 50s. She asked me into the kitchen and offered me a drink before I had the chance to introduce myself. Stella sat me down in a large armchair in the living room.
"Now what brings you to our house?" She asked, placing and ice-cold Pepsi in my hand.
"Um." What could I say? "The boy that your husband hit with the car. yeah he's my-" I was about to say friend, but she cut me off.
"I'm so sorry about that." She looked at me, expectantly.
"Amanda.Amanda Brown."
"Nice to meet you, I'm Stella Baines." My mouth hung open. I thought that was Marty's mother's maiden name. Stella called up to the second floor. "Lorraine! The boy's girlfriend is here!"
"Ma'am, Marty and I are-"
"Who?"
"Marty- the boy your husband hit."
"Oh, yes."
"We're not.he's not my.your daughter's name is Lorraine?"
"Yes. is there something wrong?" Of course something was wrong. This was Marty's mother's house!
"That's my.sister's name." I covered quickly, but not very slyly.
"Oh." Just then, Marty's mother ran down the stairs and stormed into the living room, books in hand. She stared at me with an evil look in her eyes, and then smiled pleasantly to her mother.
"I've got to go to school, I'm late. Keep on eye on Calvin."
"Calvin?" I asked, confused.
"That is his name, isn't it?" She rushed out of the door before I could correct her. Her mother picked the baby up out of the playpen and ignored his screaming.
"Let me take you, Lorraine!" She turned back towards me. "I'll be back soon, make yourself at home." And then they were gone.
I dashed up the stairs, rather quickly for someone who hasn't slept a wink in the past twenty-four hours, and opened the door to the first room I encountered. Inside was a large king bed adorned with a white comforter. I closed the door before I could notice any more. I opened the door across the hallway. There lay two twin beds side by side with about four feet of space between them. I saw Marty laying in the bad farthest from the window. The blanket came up to the middle of his chest, and his arms were lying above the comforter, at his side. I sat on the bed and put my hand on the side of his face. I looked at this serene expression and smiled.
"What have we gotten ourselves into?" I asked the unconscious Marty, who looked more like a boy than the seventeen year old that he was. Small beads of sweat began to form on his forehead and cheeks. I reached up and pulled the large cord hanging from the ceiling.
The fan blades started moving slowly, but quickly sped up. I felt the cool air and slipped off my shoes. I put them at the end of the empty bed and slid under the covers. My head hit the pillow and I was down for the count.
My father opened the door to the bedroom. I sat up in my bed and realized that Marty was lying next to me. I got out of bed; Marty followed. Dad embraced me and then Marty. I bent down and stroked Einstein's back.
"I've got something for you!" My father exclaimed. He held out a stack of mail and put it into my hands. I sifted through the pile and pulled out a large, white envelope with the Princeton University crest in the upper left corner. Was this an acceptance letter? I looked up at my father, but he was gone. Marty had his arm around my shoulder and was staring down at the letter I held in my hands. Braking Marty's hold on me, I turned around and looked for my father, but a woman with indistinguishable facial features confronted me.
"That is your name, isn't it? It's written all over your underwear." My eyes snapped open and I was aware of the tears in my eyes and the sweat all over my body. I remained motionless. Marty was awake and sitting up in bed talking to his mother. It was dark out. How long had I slept?
"Uh, no, they call me Marty."
"Nice to meet you, Calvin.Marty." She said seductively, getting up from her chair and sitting on the bed next to Marty. "You don't mind if I sit here, do you?" He was visible uncomfortable.
"No, sure fine, good, fine." He rambled on, moving father and farther from his mother. She reached out to touch his head. "That's a pretty big bruise you got there." Marty dodged her hand and tumbled off the bed, hitting the floor with a loud thud. I tried not to laugh. Lorraine's mother called from downstairs.
"Lorraine, are you up there?"
"Oh my God, it's my mother!" She said, jumping off the bed. "Quick, put your pants back on." She threw him his pants and left the room. I rolled over sleepily and wiped the sweat from my face and the tears from my eyes. I tried to get the redness that appeared on my cheeks to go down, but that was a failed effort, as I felt the same heat on my face the entire time. I heard Marty fall over and he cussed at himself under his breath. He walked over to the bed and he stood over me. Marty put his hand on my face just like I had done on his earlier. He whispered, barely audible.
"I'll save him if it kills me." His hand migrated to my shoulder, which he gave a slight shake. I slowly opened my eyes as if I had been sleeping and noticed that the smile on his face disappeared. I stayed lying down. The bed was comfortable. "We've got to get out of here, quickly." Marty extended his hand and I accepted it warmly, allowing him to tug me up from the warm caverns of Lorraine's sheets. I flew out of bed and into Marty's arms, my hand still on his. I looked up at him and gave him a short, innocent peck on the lips. I turned away from him to get my shoes and he grabbed my arm, turning me back into him. Marty captured my lips with his own and I didn't care about anything, even the tears streaming down my face. I didn't pay attention when the door to the bedroom open and shut. Nor was I concerned with Chris. All that mattered was us. We were together, and it wasn't a dream. But I broke the moment and fell through his arms onto the floor, crying hysterically.
I hadn't accepted, or even believed that my father had died until this previously perfect moment. I had cluttered my mind with trivial concerns such as Chris and Marty to block the reality from slipping through. Kissing Marty must have cleared my mind of the confusion just enough for the truth to seep into my porous brain. The door opened and a little girl opened the door just as I grabbed my shoes and failed to put them on.
"Dinner's ready." She said to us but, staring at me, and probably the sea of mascara that was falling down my cheeks. She turned around and yelled down the stairs. "They ARE NOT kissing, Lorraine!" Marty looked at me, but I didn't really comprehend what was going on around me.
"Jesus Christ." Marty whispered under his breath. I tried to wipe my eyes, but the second they were cleared, more salty drops replaced them. Marty helped me up, hesitantly, however, and assisted me with putting on my shoes. He escorted me down the stairs and I couldn't stand the family staring at me, so I left. I threw a 'thank you' over my shoulder as I left. Marty exited behind me a few seconds later.
The open door flooded the lawn with light and I kept walking, or at least trying to walk. I stopped and sighed, trying to calm down. Marty put his arm around my shoulder.
"Hey, come on, it'll be alright. We'll get him back!" I squirmed out of his grasp and walked down the sidewalk in the direction opposite the one we arrived. I took a few steps and my knees started to falter and then I collapsed onto the concrete. When I reached out for something to break my fall, I realized I was standing upright. Marty's arms were linked under my armpits and had caught me before I hit the ground. "Let me help you!" I just really wanted to be by myself and cry for a while. A long while. He put his arm around my waist and we started to walk along the sidewalk. I tried to struggle out of it, but I was too depressed and Marty's grip on me was too tight. He noticed though. "I know you're upset, but you're going get hurt if you don't let me help you."
A taxicab pulled out of a driveway. Marty helped me steady myself against a tree before he took off after the yellow car. I leaned against the tree and allowed myself to slide down the trunk until I was sitting down on the sidewalk. I put my head in my hands and cried. I didn't care how loud I was, or how big of a scene I was creating. I cared that the person that I cared about most died before my eyes!
A car pulled up and a door slammed. Marty had hailed the cab.
"Well, lookie what we have here." A loud, unpleasant, but familiar voice boomed above me. I looked up at Biff and tried to look as upset as I could. He looked down, actually concerned. "What happened? Did that little sailor guy dump you?" I couldn't find my voice, so I didn't respond. But Biff didn't deserve a response anyway. He sat down next to me and I tried to get up, but he pulled me back down. "Well, now that he's out of the way, I'll do you a favor and let you date the best looking guy in school."
"Leave me alone, Biff." I had another attempt at leaving, but he wrapped his hand around my waist and pulled me into his lap. I continued to sob at my previous rate. Biff tried to kiss me, but I craned my neck out of his reach and slapped him in the face. He raised his hand to hit me back, but Marty stopped it mid-air.
"What the hell?" Biff asked, confused. He turned around and stood up. I toppled to the ground.
"Jesus Christ! Look what you've done to her. She looks even worse."
"What I've done to her. What are you talking about, butthead?" I suddenly was overcome with the immense desire to sleep. I drifted off as I heard fists intersecting with faces and stomachs.
A/N: Sorry. Forget about the once a week. I can't do that. I've got practice every night for tennis and can't get home until at least 10. Maybe once every other week. PLEASE REVIEW.