Back To The Future

She nodded, a seductive smile illuminating her features. She headed for the row of chairs along the side of the floor but Marty deftly steered her toward the door.

“Outside is better,” he suggested.

“I’m with you,” she said.

Going out to the parking lot was not as easy as it sounded. Mr. Strickland kep

t a sharp watch for who left the dance area and how long they stayed away. He seemed to have a computer in his head which told him exactly who was missing and how long they’d been gone. As a result, Marty and Lorraine had to hang around the entrance, waiting for Strickland to look away before they were able to leave. It was ten of nine when they slipped into Doc Brown’s Packard.

“Uh, you don’t mind if we…uh…sit here a few minutes, do you?” Marty’ asked,

“Why do you think I’d mind?” Lorraine replied.

“Well, I don’t know. Some girls just…don’t like…you know…”

“Marty, I’m almost eighteen years old,” his mother said. “It’s not like I’ve never parked before.”

With that, she scooted over, very close to him, and put her hand on his leg. Marty felt his face turn crimson and very hot.

“You seem nervous, Marty,” Lorraine said. “Is anything wrong?”

“Uh, no…”

“Usually you’re so cool, like when you took care of Biff and his friends. But I hear that’s the way it is with a lot of strong, silent men. They get a little nervous with women.”

“No. It’s all right.”

“Well, just in case,” Lorraine smiled. “Why don’t you have some of this? It’ll help you relax.”

She opened her purse and took out a pint bottle of gin.

Marty gasped. His mother? Not even his mother as a grown woman, but as a teenager! It was a bit more than he could accept.

“What are you doing with that?” he whispered.

“I’m opening it.”

“But…where did you get it?”

Lorraine giggled. “Oh, I swiped it from the old lady’s liquor cabinet.”

She put the top on the dashboard, tossed her head back and took a nip.

“Lorraine,” Marty muttered. “Is this the first time you’ve done this?”

“Done what?” she asked. “Sat in a car with a boy, had a slug of gin, or sat in a car with a boy and drank?”

“Drink,” he replied. “Are you doing this just…to show off or something?”

“No,” she said, looking insulted. “Certainly not. I do it because I like it.”

“But you shouldn’t drink,” Marty scolded, realizing even as he said the words how much he sounded like an old-fashioned parent.

“Why not?”

“Well, it’s just not healthy.”

“Don’t be so square, Marty,” she laughed. “Everybody who’s anybody does it.”