“By the way,” he said, “did you happen to see the flying saucer last night?”
“What?” George cried, his eyes wide.
“It was about one o’clock,” Marty continued. “After everybody was in bed. I guess that’s why there wasn’t much talk about it at school. Although a dozen kids did see it. They all agreed it was in your neighborhood.”
“Really?”
Marty nodded. “Nothing much happened. The saucer just hovered in the air over one house for about ten minutes and then took off like a shot. I guess maybe a space man had to go to the bathroom.”
“Holy cow…” George whispered.
“Too bad you weren’t awake,” Marty said. “You could have gotten some great material for those science fiction stories you write.”
George nodded. A glint of energy seemed to come into his eyes.
“Look, you’ve gotta help me,” he said suddenly. “I want to ask Lorraine out, but I don’t know how to do it.”
“All right,” Marty nodded. “She’s over there in the soda shop.”
As they turned and headed toward the local teen hangout, two kids on homemade scooters—roller skates nailed to a two-by-four with an orange crate on top—rattled past them. Marty smiled at the crude prototypes of the sleeker and speedier skateboards that would come later.
“There she is…” he said a moment later.
Lorraine, seated with girlfriends Betty and Babs, was seated in a booth sipping an ice cream soda and talking.
The moment of truth at hand, George felt his resolve beginning to slip away. Where was the help the alien had promised him? He thought it would be a lot easier than this. In fact, he was every bit as tongue-tied and nervous as before last night’s apparition assured him everything would be all right. Was it possible space people were even more sophisticated bullshitters than his fellow earthlings? If not, where was the magic phrase or surge of power that would carry him through this ordeal?
Marty sensed George’s indecisiveness. “It’s simple,” he said. “You just go in there and invite her. I promise you, she won’t throw anything at you. The worst that can happen is she’ll say no.”
“No. The worst than can happen is she throws up or laughs when I ask for the date.”
“She won’t. Believe me.”
“Maybe I’d better wait until she’s alone. You know how girls are when they’re together.”
“George,” Marty said softly. “There are only a few days until the dance. Lorraine will probably be snapped up by tomorrow morning. This may be your last chance.”
The threat had its effect. George swallowed, nodded slowly, and took several steps toward the entrance of the store. “What should I say to her?” he asked.
“Say whatever feels natural, whatever comes to your mind.”
George took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “Nothing’s coming to my mind,” he said.
“Christ, it’s a miracle I was even born,” Marty muttered acidly.
“Huh?”
“Nothing.”
“If I had just one clever thing to say, it would help a lot.”
“All right,” Marty replied. “Just tell her destiny has brought you to her and you think she’s the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen. Girls like to hear that—What the hell are you doing, putting me on?”
George had taken a pencil and pad from his pocket and was meticulously writing down Marty’s words.
“Yeah,” he nodded. “I’m putting it down. I mean, this is good stuff.”
“Well, don’t recite it like a speech, for God’s sake,” Marty cautioned. “At least memorize it.”