The terror in Dixon’s eyes changed to annoyance and then amusement.
“That son of a bitch made me lose my last weed,” he said. “Look at that.”
He pointed to the cigarette floating and slowly disintegrating in the urinal. “He’s gonna have to pay for that,” Dixon said. “Comin’ in here like the riot squad.”
Motioning with his head, he ambled toward the stall in which George sat.
Acutely aware that there is a fine line during which a woman can be romanced successfully, Marty sat nervously in Doc Brown’s Packard, Lorraine’s hip firmly pressed against his. She was ready to be kissed and then touched, hopefully just enough to insult her, create fear and anger and the need for a new champion to rescue her. Marty’s dilemma was one of timing. If he went after her too soon, he would be forced to continue the assault until George came—and perhaps it would be over too soon. If, on the other hand, he continued sitting here like a genial lump, Lorraine might conclude that he was either retarded or that she had no appeal. In either case, her next logical move would be out of the car, back to the dance and out of his life, probably forever.
Where the hell is that chickenshit father of mine, Marty thought.
Lorraine noticed the veins in his neck standing out and his jaw twitching. “Marty, why are you so nervous?” she asked.
He took a deep breath. “Well, have you ever been in a situation,” he began, “where… well, you know you have to act
a certain way, but when you get there, you don’t know if you can go through with it?”
“You mean like how you’re supposed to act with someone on the first date?”
“Uh…yeah.”
“Very polite and sweet and like that?”
Marty nodded.
“I don’t worry about that!” Lorraine gushed.
With that, she threw her arms around his neck, reached up and kissed him passionately.
“Come on, guys, let me outa here.”
George pushed as hard as he could against the door of the stall, but it was just too heavy to budge with three guys leaning against it.
“You’re gonna stay there and stew in your own stink,” Dixon said.
“Why? What did I do?”
“You made me lose a very valuable cigarette.”
“I’ll buy you a whole pack,” George promised. “Let me out.”
“Maybe,” Dixon smiled. “When can I have the pack?”
“Tomorrow.”
“No. I want them tonight.”
“But there’s no place at school I can buy them and most of the stores are closed.”
“Then the hell with you,” Dixon said. “You can stay in there all night.”
“Look, it’s silly for you to keep me prisoner like this,” George pleaded. “You got dates. They’re probably wondering where you are.”
“True,” Dixon conceded. “So two of us will hold you in while one goes out and gets reinforcements. We’ll set up a system of watches, ten-minute shifts, so that we can enjoy the dance and still keep you in here until it’s time to leave.”
“Why are you doing this to me?” George whined. “Come on, guys…”
“No,” Dixon vowed. “You’re a pain in the ass, McFly, and pains in the ass should stay just where you are.”