Carver Pike - Scalp

Is he though?

Yes, she decided, he is. He may not have been book smart like she was, but he had a different kind of intelligence. She wasn’t sure if it was street smarts, as she doubted he’d ever really fought his way through the mean streets, or just an overall wisdom about him.

Nitsy and Phyllis weren’t the only ones on the male’s floor. Some of the other girls on their team, and one of the guys, had made their way through the corridor. She wasn’t sure which room was Robbie’s exactly, but she was pretty sure it was close to the entrance. She couldn’t remember seeing him enter a room, but she thought he’d disappeared rather quickly one time after a break.

“They’ll get the doors at the far end,” Phyllis suggested, “so maybe we should start down here.”

“Sounds good to me,” Nitsy agreed.

They started with the third door from the entrance. Glancing over at her teammates, Nitsy held up her hand and counted, “One… two…” They didn’t even make it to three before the kids on the second floor started making their commotion. Nitsy shrugged and crashed her lids together, making them clang as loud as she could.

Phyllis rattled a metal spoon inside of a pot.

All down the hallway crashes and clatters sounded off. The noise was nearly deafening.

The boys living in the room nearest where Nitsy and Phyllis were standing stepped out. One was shirtless and ripped with muscle.

“Oh wow,” Phyllis said aloud, then quickly covered her mouth in shame.

“What the hell, man?” the boy asked.

“It’s time to get up!” Nitsy sang.

“Is this a joke?” one of his roommates asked from inside, still in bed.

“Nope,” Phyllis said. “We’re your wakeup crew. It’s our duty. Every day at this time.”

“Jesus,” the muscular boy said.

Out of the next door over, a familiar face emerged. Robbie rubbed at his eyes. His hair was a mess. He wore a yellow Average Joe’s T-shirt with navy blue pajama pants. Nitsy took one look at the red font on his shirt and laughed.

“ Dodgeball ?” she asked him.

“Huh?” He was clearly still half asleep.

“Your shirt,” she said with a finger pointed at his chest. “I love that movie.”

Average Joe’s was the name of the gym owned by Vince Vaughn’s character in the movie. She’d know that shirt anywhere. She’d only seen the flick a hundred times. It was one of the few DVDs she had available to her when she was in the hospital. The WiFi went out too often to be able to depend on streaming shows and movies, so her small collection of discs kept her sane.

“I’m sorry,” he said with what Nitsy thought was the most adorably groggy voice she’d ever heard, “but what are you guys doing out here?”

“Waking you up,” Nitsy said with a smile.

“Waking us up,” he repeated.

“Every morning,” Phyllis added. “We’re the wakeup crew.”

“Got it,” he said. “So, I can’t go back in there and go to sleep.”

Nitsy shook her head and smiled. Robbie glanced into his room and then back at her.

“Did my roommates come out here before me?” he asked.

“Nobody came out here but these guys right here,” Phyllis said, pointing at the now closed door of the muscular boy and his roommates.

“Hmm,” he replied. “Weird. Okay. I’ll be out in a bit. You goin’ to breakfast?”

Nitsy glanced down at her pajamas, pink pants with white clouds on them and a grey T-shirt, and said, “Yeah, after I shower and get dressed.”

“Meet you there?” he asked.

Nitsy couldn’t hide the smile growing on her lips. Butterflies were doing all sorts of summersaults and stuff in her stomach. She wished they’d calm down so she could concentrate. Was he asking to sit with her at breakfast or only acknowledging that they both required substance for their stomachs and they’d both get that substance in the same cafeteria building?

“Save me a seat?” she asked, deciding she would make it official if he wasn’t.

He rubbed his eyes once more and said, “Deal.”

When Robbie closed his door behind him, Nitsy went to clap her hands in glee and forgot she still held the two lids in her hands. They clanged together once more.

“Sorry,” she said aloud to no one in particular.

“That was awkward,” Phyllis said.

“What was?”

“The amount of drool you dripped on the floor. That and the fact I didn’t really exist during that entire time you two were talking.”

Nitsy wanted to apologize to her friend, but she couldn’t. She was happy. For the first time in a long time, she had a serious crush on a boy, and it seemed he wasn’t oblivious to the fact. In fact, he seemed to be welcoming it.

You cannot date Robbie Boyd. Are you looking for trouble? Are you looking for disappointment?

Here, in a land where they were alone and everything seemed possible, dating a hunk like Robbie wasn’t too farfetched. Back home, where everyone talked trash and every day was a popularity contest combined with a fashion show, Nitsy didn’t stand a chance. Even if he happened to like her back – which couldn’t be the case – he would crumble once he was surrounded by all his jock friends and bitchy girlfriends.

How many of them is he talking to on his phone at night? And what about the blonde bombshell, Bianca?

Nitsy glanced toward the ceiling and wondered how they were doing waking up the girls on the second floor.

Bradley thought he should have stayed downstairs with Phyllis. He had a slight crush on her. Instead of hanging out with her, he’d opted to follow the other guys in the group up to the second floor where all the girls slept. Like they might be awarded a sneak peek at a girl – one who happened to sleep naked in a room full of other girls – they’d run upstairs with all the elatedness of children on Christmas morning.

“Maybe we’ll see some tits,” Elias, their space mission security officer whispered as they headed up the stairs.

“Yeah, maybe,” Bradley had replied, only because of peer pressure. He’d never really been “one of the guys” and felt the only good answer was to agree with the boy.

Once upstairs, they did their thing, banging on stuff and knocking on doors. Eggo had never really told them to touch people’s doors, but it only made sense to do so. If they were the wakeup crew, they needed to make sure people were awake. Elias smacked every door in the hallway on his way to the far end. On his way back, he made sure to slap every window.

Only four of them were upstairs, so they fanned out and each made as much noise as they could. Bradley rattled his cowbell with a big spoon outside the first door he came to. Elias and the others were further down the hall.

The first girl to open the door looked mad as hell, and he couldn’t blame her. He wouldn’t have enjoyed being woken up by a nerdy kid with a cowbell. His sister used to call him Urkel, like the kid on the old 90s sitcom Family Matters . He’d never really seen the resemblance. Now, cowering in front of this pretty girl, who’d apparently gone to bed in the shortest shorts he’d ever seen on a girl his age, he felt every bit the dork his sister said he was.

“What the fuck, man?” she asked.

“Who the hell is that?!” one of her roommates asked.

Bradley couldn’t see her.

“That’s not a funny joke, asshole!” a third roommate yelled.

For being the top students in their schools, these kids sure have mouths on them, don’t they?

Bradley rarely used foul language. It wasn’t that it offended him, and it wasn’t for some religious reason. He simply enjoyed knowing he could find better vocabulary to express his disinterest, aggravation, or astonishment.