Carver Pike - Scalp

Of course, Nitsy was happy for her. Any other night, she would probably ask for all the juicy details, but she knew something was on the other side of her door. She had no idea what it was or what it wanted, but she sensed it wasn’t good, and she knew it was standing out there right now… listening.

Megan plopped earbuds into her ears and threw her head back onto her pillow. “I’m getting some sleep. You two can chit chat all night if you want.”

Nitsy had taken the bottom bunk, leaving Phyllis the free twin-size bed across from them. Nitsy didn’t even change her clothes. She would do that in the morning. For now, she only wanted to wrap herself up in her comforter and feel safe and warm. She would not be leaving this room until morning, even though the shared female bathroom was a couple of doors down. She would pee herself if she had to, but she wasn’t going out into that hallway.

As Megan whispered the lyrics to whatever song she was listening to and Phyllis began to snore softly, Nitsy swore she heard footsteps retreating down the hall.

While Nitsy closed her eyes and prayed the thing in the hallway was only a figment of her imagination, downstairs and three doors over, a group of teenagers seemed to have forgotten about the project at hand. Robbie was one of them.

When he’d returned to his dorm room following his group’s meeting, he found his roommates freshly dressed. The room reeked of cologne.

“What are you guys doing?” he’d asked as he plopped down on his bed. Robbie had gotten stuck with the bottom bunk.

“Dude,” Trevor, his wisecracking, wannabe tough guy roommate started, “do you know who’s in the room like right above us?”

Robbie didn’t.

“I heard from a reliable source,” Trevor continued, “that Misty, that cute chick with the purple hair, Desiree, and your girl, Bianca, are upstairs. I got their room number. They’re in 214.”

It turned out Trevor had a bit of a crush on Misty, a raven-haired goth girl who’d been somewhat flirtatious with the boy at lunch. Robbie had spent the entire day with all three of the girls, and as much as he liked Bianca, he was ready to shower and get some sleep. Trevor, who hadn’t been lucky enough to get “all the hot chicks” on his team, wouldn’t take no for an answer. The boy was dying to spend time with Robbie’s “team full of hunnies.”

“Dude, if we get caught, we’re gonna mess things up pretty badly,” Robbie said.

“Tell me,” Trevor said as he stood on the one single bed in their room. His soapbox. “What do you really think this is going to do for your future, man? Aren’t you a sports star?”

Robbie, looked up at him from his seated position on the bottom bunk across from him and said, “Star? Bro, I said I play baseball.”

“Too bad it’s not football,” the kid on the top bunk said. His name was Steven, and Robbie thought he was a bit of an asshole. “It’s the football players who get all the chicks.”

“Do you play football?” Robbie asked, looking up at the boy around the edge of the bed.

Steven was tall and muscular. He claimed to be a martial artist. That was enough to stop Robbie from crossing the line, but it wasn’t enough to keep him from stepping right up to it.

“Nah, man,” Steven replied. “I wouldn’t play a sport that requires me to wear a bunch of pads. I like to meet my opponents head-on.”

Robbie wanted nothing more than to stand up, grab hold of Steven’s neck, and yank him over the bed and onto the floor.

And where would this plan go from there?

That was a problem. He’d never had to fight much in his life. He was well-liked by most of the guys where he lived. Plus, he hung out with a lot of bigger guys. He’d made it through high school so far unchallenged and unscathed. Besides, it seemed the days of fistfights were over. People seemed to be resorting to violence less and less. Heated discussions were more likely to occur at his school. Robbie, who was exhausted, wasn’t in the mood for an argument.

“Hey, eyes up here,” Trevor announced.

Robbie tore his eyes from the asshole above him and shifted them back to the kid with the slicked-back hair and denim jacket covering his torso. It was the kid’s mustache that drew the most attention. It looked ridiculous in all its barely-there glory. Trevor often stroked it as he spoke, running his fingers over the shadow like he might will it to grow more fully by touching it with magic fingertips. With his attire and nearly non-existent facial hair, it was clear Trevor wanted the girls at Stonewall Forge to know he was one of the bad boys.

But is he?

He was here, after all, and that made Robbie think he was nothing but a poser. His punk rock T-shirt wasn’t fooling him. You could only be so bad and receive an invite to a conference like this. Yet, the kid was willing to risk the entire thing on meeting some girls.

“Are we really going to waste this weekend sitting around and studying?” Trevor continued. “Pretending we’re on a spaceship for fuck’s sake? I think not. I’m headed upstairs to Misty’s room. You, Robbie, should be thinking about Bianca right now. And, Steven, I think you could totally nail Desiree.”

Nail? The thought made Robbie laugh. These chumps weren’t going to have sex with either of those girls. It wasn’t like they were at some sleazy nightclub or a drunken frat party. They were juniors in high school on a school field trip.

“You do realize we’re at a fucking leadership conference, right?” Robbie asked. “These are leaders.”

“Yeah,” Trevor replied, “well, I’ll lead these leaders to the water… and make ‘em drink.”

That didn’t even make sense. Robbie stared at him with one eyebrow raised. It was his “what the fuck are you talking about” look.

“Oh, I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” Steven said as he leaped down from the top bunk, inches away from Robbie’s head.

Even Steven seemed to realize how ridiculous this was, but he was willing to tag along. Robbie felt like he didn’t have much choice in the matter. Sure, he could stay in his room and let the other two boys go alone, but he felt an odd sense of camaraderie with these boys. He couldn’t ditch them. He was the third musketeer. He was the drummer while Trevor was the wild frontman and Steven was on lead guitar. Robbie imagined them as a three-person band on stage and laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Trevor asked. “You don’t wanna get laid?”

“We’re not getting laid,” Robbie said as he stood from his mattress and shook his head, “but I’ll go with you.”

“My man!” Trevor announced as he whipped his hand out to slap Robbie’s.

A high five? We’re really doing this?

He couldn’t leave Trevor hanging, so he met the boy halfway and slapped hands with him, which turned into one of those automatic bro handshakes. Robbie knew this was a bad idea, but he had to admit it would be fun sneaking out and paying Bianca a visit. He wondered how she’d react. She might freak out and tell him to get the hell out of her room, or she might invite him in.

You know who else is on that floor. Nitsy’s probably only a few doors down.

Nitsy would punch him in the nose if he showed up at her room this late at night.

“Fine,” Robbie said, “but only for a few minutes. Unlike you, I actually do care about this conference.”

“Right,” Trevor said, “only a few minutes. I don’t know about you two, but I usually take a little longer than that.”

The hallway was pitch black, and it seemed the plan would be easy. Hide in the shadows until they made it to the stairwell and then quietly head upstairs.