Carver Pike - Scalp

“I’m sorry,” he said. “This isn’t a joke. My group has the duty of being the wakeup crew, so we’ll be doing this every day.”

“Every day?” the girl who’d answered the door asked.

“You gotta be kidding me!” one of her roommates yelled.

“Every single one,” Bradley informed them. “So, unless you want to be woken up like this, I’d suggest you set your alarm for about five minutes before now… for tomorrow morning.”

“Yo, did you get this one already?” Elias asked, pointing at the next door over, room 214.

He hadn’t. Bradley had spent his entire time here. He shook his head and then smiled at the girl in front of him. She poked her head out the door and looked at Elias.

“Good luck waking those assholes up,” the girl called out to Elias. “They were up all night partying. I’m talking yelling, screaming, whooping, and hollering. They’re our future’s finest, that’s for sure.”

“Oh, I’ll wake them up,” Elias assured her.

“Sorry about the—” Bradley started to say when the girl stepped back into the room and slammed the door in his face. The room number, 215, was an inch away from being branded across his forehead.

Elias laughed at him and pounded on his door. Bradley passed him on his way to the stairs. Everyone else had already descended. It seemed they’d successfully awoken all the female students, and Bradley had only gotten to see one .

“Whoa,” Elias said, “there’s some strange noises coming from inside this room.” He looked over at Bradley and his eyes lit up. “No way. You don’t think… three girls, one room?”

“Come on, man. You tried to wake them up. Let’s go.”

“No way. You gotta hear this. Sounds like moans and groans.”

“Do you know the girls in that room?” Bradley asked.

“Nah, not really. I think that hot kinda goth girl, Misty, is in this room.”

“If something is going on in there, you’re gonna piss them off.”

“Hey, it’s my job to wake them up.”

“Whatever, man. I’ll meet you at breakfast.”

Elias crashed his pot and pan together a couple of times and then went back to knocking on the door while yelling out, “Wakeup crew! Wake up! Wakety wakety!”

Bradley laughed and was about to turn the corner to the stairs when he heard Elias yell, “Whoa, hey!” He turned around and Elias was gone.

It was strange. Only a second ago, the boy had been standing in the hallway, right outside that door. Bradley walked slowly toward it. Were the girls playing a prank on them? They’d probably yanked Elias into their room and were now waiting for Bradley to go check on his buddy so they could douse him with – he wasn’t exactly sure what girls would pour all over him to be mean – flour or honey or fruity-scented lotion.

“Elias!” he called out.

Far off in the background, he heard a girl slam her door, probably still angry about being woken up as she headed for the shower. Downstairs, a few pots and pans banged together haphazardly. Probably a few of his crew members lingering in the halls, not willing to give up on their first day of being pains in everyone’s asses.

“Elias?” Bradley said again as he approached room 214.

The window blinds were pulled tight, and he couldn’t see any shadowy movement on the other side. The sun coming up behind him, blasting its way across the hallway, was making that impossible. No breeze blew through the corridor, but that didn’t stop Bradley from feeling a sudden chill. He didn’t like this.

“Elias,” he said once more, this time barely above a whisper.

He approached the door and put his ear within a couple of inches of it. This would be the perfect time to yank the door open and throw something on him. The door didn’t budge, and with his ear close to it, Bradley listened intently. He even held his breath as he did, thinking that might help him make out even the slightest movement or words spoken on the other side.

A scraping sound came from within the room. It sounded like someone sliding across a floor.

Bradley’s heart hammered inside him, but he couldn’t leave the boy unless he was sure he was okay. He did his best to hold his nerves steady as he placed his ear against the door, feeling his cartilage crackle as he pressed it too hard. Now, any sound would be muffled, so he eased up a bit.

THUD! Something crashed against the door, something solid, and Bradley jumped. He was about to shove his way into the room when he heard a moan.

He backed up and cocked his head to the side.

Well, shit.

Stepping closer once more, he held his breath and listened to the groans, the grunting, and other noises that to his overworked teenage brain, sounded extremely sexual. Bradley chuckled and backed up a few more steps.

Elias, you stud. Looks like you got what you wanted. The hot goth girl must have had a pretty erotic dream last night to pounce on you like that.

And she had two roommates. For a second, he wondered what would happen if he went in there. Would her roommates try something with him? He knew it was doubtful, but he was a virgin whose sole sexual experiences came from watching porn on incognito mode.

Strange things happen in porn. Maybe they’ll happen in real life too.

Then it came down to whether or not he wanted it to happen. Did he want his first experience to be an orgy with three girls he’d never seen before and a guy he hardly knew? Probably not.

“You are the man,” Bradley said loud enough that Elias might be able to hear him from the other side of the door.

Then he walked away, laughing to himself at his friend’s good fortune. Maybe, someday, he’d be lucky enough to enjoy an experience like that himself. For now, he needed to go back to his room, get changed into something more presentable than these silly pajamas, and try to get to the cafeteria before they ran out of chocolate chip muffins.

Elias, you are a lucky guy, man.

Wind blew the one traffic light along Main Street, causing it to dip and swing, bouncing its blinking yellow light off the damp road and then back at his windshield. It was always quiet this early, but Grant Pope couldn’t help thinking today was different. Each morning, he went to The Diner to read his newspaper, have exactly two cups of coffee, and eat a blueberry bagel slathered with peanut butter. He always parked his truck at the curb. Sheriff Morris didn’t mind it. None of the cops did. They knew him well enough. If anyone else decided not to park around back in the tight confines of The Diner’s tiny parking lot, they’d be served a ticket mighty quick. But Grant Pope was a good man, had lived in Clydesville all his life, and never bothered anyone who didn’t deserve a little bothering.

“Damn, it’s quiet,” he grumbled as he threw his truck into park. It seemed darker than usual too. He knew that wasn’t the case, but it felt darker somehow. Glancing up at the sky through his windshield, he didn’t see any storm clouds. The sky looked pretty clear.

But damn if it ain’t dark.

He glanced right as the neon pink open sign popped on. Inside, the lights were dim. Grant could see Sally at the counter refilling the salt and pepper shakers. It was her morning ritual. Next, she’d move on to the ketchup bottles and the napkin dispensers. She was a woman on a mission, and nothing got in the way of her routine. Grant liked that about her. She was in her late thirties, and even though he was at least twenty years her senior, he’d often considered trying to get to know her better.

What more do you need to know? She’s pretty, she’s smart, and she’s kind.

He wasn’t confident she liked him though. She was familiar with him, sure, but could she see a romantic spark with him? He doubted it. He wasn’t much of a looker. Sure, he had plenty of money with his disability compensation – due to a slip and fall that shattered his right knee – and the money he made creating custom furniture and wooden signs.