'Ere I am again, with another chapter, even longer than the previous one! I sort of rushed it, so if it is that bad, I can change it. I hope there aren't too many mistakes in this one.

P.S, Marty falling off his skateboard is supposed to be symbolism that he can't control the course in which things are going, etcetera…

Perceive it how you will, next chapter up tomorrow sometime.

Fine-Tuning the Future

Chapter 3

"Good morning, Hilldale! It's another beautiful October morning and you're here with me for two loaded hours of non-stop hits and headlines!"

Marty rolled over and stared up at the radio clock with an aching neck. His vision was blurred and it took several attempts at grabbing for the alarm clock before he managed to finally grasp it.

He blinked a few times to adjust to the light, and he stared at the glaring red numbers, that at first seemed jumbled, but then he saw the time for what it really was.

"Oh for the love of…" leaving his curse hanging, Marty threw off his covers and went through the usual routine of hurriedly dressing. He grabbed at his schoolbag that was lying behind the door and slung it on one shoulder.

He dashed down the stairs, making sure to jump over the step that had felled him the night before and skidded into the kitchen-diner.

"Marty, your breakfast…?" began his mother, but Marty immediately waved her away and shook his head.

"Not this morning, I'm late! I'll buy something at the cafeteria!" he shouted back at her as he leaped over the threshold of the front door and made straight for the garage.

"Please be unlocked…" he prayed to no-one in particular, and snatched the handle in the middle of the garage door. He pulled up on it, but to no avail.

"Holy Christ! Who the Hell didn't unlock this!" Marty was on the verge of shouting for his father, but the car was missing.

"No, no, no…" he repeated, tugging hard on the latch once more, just in case it was just slightly stuck.

He dashed back into the house, throwing open the front door as he did so, and flew into the hallway, slamming into the inner garage door.

He tried the handle.

"MOM? Where's the garage key?" he yelled, pulling so hard on the handle it was groaning in protest.

"You want your skateboard, Marty? Your father got it out for you last night before he locked up! It's under the table!" his mother's voice reached his ears and he yelled in frustration.

Running into the dinging room, he dived under the table and scrabbled about between the chair and table legs before he managed to pull his skateboard out.

"Next time, you tell me where you put my stuff!" he shouted behind him. He walked to the door, opened it and slammed it shut again.

He dropped the skateboard and let it roll, before taking a running jump and landing on it awkwardly.

The board slipped under his feet and he went forward, landing on the paving shoulders first.

Marty groaned after a few seconds of lying there in the position he had landing in. He felt a sudden panging pain across his arm, and by carefully rolling up his denim jacket's sleeve, caught the sight of a great, red graze.

He whimpered at his own clumsiness and sat up. He cocked his head at the board that was rolling to and fro in front of him.

He reached out for it, but a huge, black tyre suddenly cruised its way casually behind the board, nudging it out of the way.

Marty could smell the rubber he was so close, and he scampered backwards slightly.

"Fall off your board, Marty McLoser?" a familiar voice mocked. It had a slight lisp and a common accent about it.

Marty followed the tyre up slowly; met dirty, red bodywork and his eyes eventually saw the speaker leaning out of the truck.

"What do you want, Needles?" Marty said, he was trying to sound bored with the conversation already. He picked himself up as normally as he could and tried to grab the skateboard once again, but the truck suddenly lurched forward, forcing Marty to pull his hand away.

Needles' course laughter echoed around the street, strangely in tune with that of the humming engine of his truck.

The skateboard had wedged itself neatly in front of the right tyre, and Needles, noticing, raised his eyebrows at Marty.

Marty, as equally silent, almost dared him to move forward with the look in his eyes.

"You want me to break your little four-wheeler here? You got a nicer set o' wheels, and you still use this piece of cardboard to get to school? You're a Joke, McFly!" Needles said with another horrific laugh.

"You still ride this trolley to school too huh? I guess we're as bad as each other!" Marty retorted.

Needles hardly moved at Marty's comment, and then Marty realised why. There was someone else in that truck with him. There was no noisy gang though, and no loud, pulsing music.

"Leave it, Marty…" a feminine voice drifted past Needles and almost hit Marty in the face.

"Jennifer?" Marty said quietly. He took a step towards the car, but Needles forced the truck forward another violently quick inch.

Marty stopped where he stood instead of provoking Needles. He thought about spinning on his heel and walking away, but he was curious. He just hoped curiosity never killed a McFly.

"So this was your plan all along? You find some, some excuse! Something that I could say to you to "drive you away" and you get me down all night, keep me off your back, then you end up with, with…this?" Marty said, his voice quivering and his finger pointing at Needles, who gave a look of, "hey, it wasn't me".

"It's not like that at all, Mart-"

"Me and Jenny here have a lot to catch up on, we have such similar interests! A tardy for being late is nothing compared with getting' a girl like her, McFly, though I'm still wondering how she began with a loser like you. I guess you gotta claw your way up the ranks of love, nowadays!" Needles said with a sly smile.

Marty adjusted his jacket matter-of-factly and tried to not seem too shaken by the whole thing.

"Real happy for you two, I hope I get an invitation to the wedding." He replied.

"All you'll get today McFly is a tardy, see you in class!" Needles laughed and the wheels squeaked as he accelerated forward. The truck crushed the skateboard like an origami model being trodden on.

Marty stood dumbstruck for a few panic-stricken moments, and as Needles pulled away and reversed out onto the road, he called out to him.

"You asshole!" he yelled, chasing the truck out onto the road.

The truck swerved in his direction and Marty tripped over the kerb as he tried to escape.

More laughter rang through the neighbourhood and the truck moved like a tank down the road and out of sight.

"Bastard…"

Marty looked to the splintered wood and metal that remained of his board. He rapidly gathered up all the pieces, cutting his hands and wrists several times whilst doing so and threw it all onto the lawn of next door's garden.

He didn't think he could face school now, he'd be at least half an hour late if he started walking now, he'd make it in fifteen if he ran, but that didn't seem to lighten his mood.

He kicked the ground. Everything was falling apart around him, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Despite all he thought on the matter, he turned to face the direction he'd have to take to school, and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, and nothing else.

………………………………………………………

There was no Jennifer waiting at the steps to smuggle him in this time. Marty strode up the stairs heavily and opened the double doors.

One person, at least, hadn't changed.

Strickland was standing in the centre of the main hallway, tapping his foot with his arms folded. He unfurled them to reveal that slip of paper everybody dreaded.

Marty just kept walking, but grabbed the paper as he passed the principal and uttered a "Thank you sir."

Pushing open the door and slinging his bag under the desk, Marty ignored the stares that the class of his current lesson gave him.

The teacher gave him a brief glance, and then returned to the lecture she was giving.

Marty sat down with little grace and slouched in his chair.

He heard sniggering and whispered comments from the back of the room, and he tried to ignore them.

Finally having to cover his ears with his hands casually, Marty leaned over the desk until his hair brushed its surface.

His teacher's voice was a quiet hum, and finally everything was muffled.

Marty's eyes started to ache as well as the graze across his arm, which he had managed to stay oblivious of until now.

He felt sick to think about what Needles was going to do with Jennifer, but he suddenly remembered. She had left him, and not the other way around. Why should he feel anything for her anymore, be it empathy or desire? It wasn't his fault, he had tried to explain everything to her truthfully, and she'd thrown it all back at him. If anything, she deserved to hook up with someone as repulsive as Needles.

She probably pitied him when he had asked her if she wanted to go out with him. "Poor little guy, he's always being bullied, always late, he's got nothing to live for, I'll be his light at the end of the tunnel. If anything his grades might rise. He needs something to shoot for after all." That was it.

She'd stuck with him just to keep him going. There was no love there in the first place.

Marty shook his head, erasing the thoughts from his mind. Of course she had loved him. The negative feelings were beginning to take a hold, and their claws were digging in deep.

He heard a ringing, and after covering his head with his arms, remembered that the bell had just gone. He felt a nudge, and looked up to see the teacher shaking his arm gently.

"You weren't listening were you? Is something wrong, McFly? I'll excuse you from the homework either way. You should go home, you don't look as perky as you usually do," she said to him, her voice barely audible.

"Everything is great, just feeling a little…" How did he feel? Distressed? Angered? Did he even feel Lovelorn?

"Alright, if you're sure now?" the teacher said, watching him rise from his seat and kick his bag out from under the desk.

"It's nothing serious, I'll be fine tomorrow," he said with a forced smile.

"Right then, off you go, see you next lesson," she whispered. She had said the sentence with a slow pace and a concerned look.

Marty smiled again, snatched his bag from the floor and left the classroom without a word.

He paused outside the door. He looked out onto the corridor and watched the rest of the pupils walk, run and fall past him.

Was he selfish? Concerned too much with his own life, and never thinking about the others, the others who could have far worse problems than his own?

Probably, he thought, but there's nothing I can do. I can't change the past.

He took one step forward and met someone coming the other way. The last straw, Marty grabbed at the other's shirt and raised his clenched fist threateningly. His scowl, however, softened and became apologetic.

He released his grip on the frightened boy, who dropped to the floor and scrabbled around trying to pick up his scattered books.

Marty's bag had slipped from his hand and lay on the floor. He knelt down and picked it up.

Before he could say anything, the boy was fighting his way down the corridor.

"Sorry…" Marty said. The word was absent of the sarcasm it used to have, it being replaced by slight shame.

Marty looked around once more, and in the corner of his eyes, he caught the sight of auburn hair and a blue jacket.

"Marty?" Jennifer asked loudly. People were still pounding down the hall, and Marty used this as an excuse to ignore her. He didn't want to do it, he just didn't want to seem weak to Jennifer.

"Marty!" she shouted this time, and waved over at him. He rolled his eyes painfully and strolled towards her. He leaned against the lockers and didn't look at her.

"What do you want, Jennifer?" he asked as proudly as he thought possible.

"I lost Needles over in the science block; I hope I stalled him long enough. I want to apologise for this morning, I swear I didn't-"

"Apologise? I think I should be the one apologising, I'm sorry I ever thought I liked you." Marty said with a frown. His expression rapidly changed from hate to sudden compassion, and he turned to look at her.

She looked worried. She was far too worried for a girl who had found "a better guy".

"I am so sorry; I didn't mean a word of that. Don't listen to anything I say, I'm…having a bad day." He said solemnly.

"Marty, something is terribly wrong, Needles, he's stalking me or something, I think it's just so he can get to you for maybe showing him up the other day." She said, her voice shaking. She had her arms clasped around her stomach, just the way she was as she left him.

"So, you don't hate me?" Marty said, ignoring her comment.

"Marty that has nothing to do with it! I just needed to tell someone about this-"

"So you tell the guy who is most likely to tell a teacher, just so you don't look bad in front of your new gang?" Marty replied. His voice rose.

"Do you ever think of anyone other than yourself? I come to you with a problem and you push me away, just to keep your own ego where it is, which was, if you haven't noticed, never any good to begin with!" Jennifer said and her voice was almost at shouting volume.

"I'm sorry if I have to put myself before others, it's my life after all, it's the only one I got, and if I screw it up, I'd only have myself to blame, and no-one else!" Marty shouted. Less people were bustling past them, and the throng was thinning quickly.

"That's really considerate of you…" Jennifer spat. Despite the strength in her voice, her eyes were glistening.

"Sort out your own problems, Jen, I'm through with them." Marty hissed.

Shit, why did I tell her that? Am I really that selfish?

"Well, I hope you live a long and insufferable life, Martin McFly, because I'll never let you moan at me again as long as I do!" Jennifer shouted. This time, she really did slap him. It was the cold and hard type, and Marty resisted the urge to double over in shock.

She stormed away from him for the second time in two days, and when she had entered the door that led to her next class, and when everyone had left the halls empty, Marty punched the locker behind him so much that it was dented.

Pulling the strap of his bag over his shoulder once more, he walked wearily to his second class.

It was going to be a Hell of a long day.