The Scholarship Student: Chapter Three by ckbald

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This is the third chapter of a multi-chapter story. It will make more sense if you’ve read the first two chapters. It is an homage to, in honor of, an extension and an appreciation of stories written by two of the best, most talented storytellers on this site, Manny and CleanCut.

Chapter Three

"Down this way," said Mikey, who by now had let go of his hand, and had, instead, thrown his arm loosely around Marshall’s shoulder. "I need to stop by my locker, get my chem notes, and throw on a hoodie before we hit the library for our workout…our brain workout, right, bro!" He pumped his fist in the air, and did a solo call and response, "What do we do? Reach higher!" Mikey pulled Marshall closer, looked him in the eye, and this time in a louder voice, said, "What do we do? Say it with me, Marshall!" Marshall couldn’t help but grin back, and in equally loud voices, they both responded, "REACH HIGHER!"
Mikey was treating Marshall as if they’d been friends forever, when they’d only met just ten minutes ago. Actually, he was treating him more like a bro, Marshall thought. And he liked it! His teammates on the jv soccer team were way more chill, as if they were cultivating an image of cool. Marshall didn't think of himself as cool, and, while he and the guys on his team, most of them at least, were liked and popular around school, they were also kind of low key guys in general. They weren’t chest-bumpers, or loud, like Mikey and his bros. And his friends on the Science Olympiad team were most definitely not bros! His brother, Fred, had always been Marshall’s role model, in most ways. And, he admitted to himself, Mr. Carson was a role model for him now. He supposed that Mikey was more like his birth father, Mr.Carson’s husband, since Mr. Carson was neither boisterous nor bold; he was more like Fred. But, already, Marshall knew he was gonna enjoy his sessions with Mikey!
The guys stopped at Mikey’s locker. Marshall leaned against a neighboring locker while Mikey opened his, leaned in and grabbed his hoodie, then pulled it on and zipped it up with a flourish. Then, instead of shutting the door, he opened it a little more, towards Marshall, took a step back, and, facing the open door, cocked his head to one side and the other, while running his palm and fingertips over the shiny bald back and sides of his head. Mikey then gently brushed his hand back and forth across the one-fourth-of-an-inch long patch of velvety, dark blond hair on top of that swath of razor-shaved skin.
The guy had a mirror in his locker! Marshall wanted to laugh, and, at the same time, he wondered if it was Mikey’s tight cut, or Mikey himself, that he found unexpectedly intriguing.
Marshall pushed himself off the locker and walked around to stand behind Mikey, who was still checking out his extreme recon, tilting his head slightly to see himself from different angles. Marshall was 5’10", with a slim, athletic build. Mikey was a couple of inches shorter, with a neck nearly as wide as one of Marshall’s thighs, or so it seemed to Marshall, as he stared at it from a few inches away. He lifted his eyes and looked over Mikey’s shoulder, catching the bro’s eye in the mirror. Marshall grinned and said, "I, uh, appreciate you wanting to look your best for our first session. Not a hair out of place, huh." And then he winked.
Turning around and facing him so suddenly that he forced Marshall a little off balance, Mikey locked eyes with Marshall, who met his gaze through that damn lock of chestnut-colored hair that was definitely not in its place now, and said, " One of us has to, right, bro!" And then using just one finger to brush an imaginary lock of hair out of his own eyes, Mikey grinned a wide, sh*t-eating grin.
Just before Mikey reached backwards with a foot to close his locker, Marshall observed how organized it was. He supposed it was the chemistry nerd in him that made him appreciate a certain order in things, including lockers, and he was impressed that this bro evidently appreciated it as well. "Maybe he inherited this need for order…balance…and clean lines from his dad, from flat-topped Mr.Carson dad," thought Marshall, glancing down at Mikey’s recon as they headed towards the library and their tutoring session.
"You like a tight cut," said Mikey, a statement, not a question, as if he’d both read Marshall’s mind, and noticed the glance Marshall just gave his fresh haircut. "I could hook you up with Trainer Dougie; he keeps "his bros" looking respectable. And, as you know, Dad’s barber specializes in flattops." Mikey made a soft buzzing sound, and reached over and ran an imaginary pair of clippers over the top of Marshall’s head, just grazing his hair with his fingertips. Before Marshall could do or say anything, they reached the library, and Mikey pulled open the door, ushering Marshall in ahead of him.
The library was quiet and busy. Students sat alone or in small groups at the various tables, or in the several seating areas which were arranged with small couches and comfortable chairs, in a sea of laptops, iPads, books, and notebooks. The study carrels were across the room by a wall of windows, and as Mikey led Marshall over to the one he’d reserved for them, several guys looked up and mouthed or whispered, "Bro!" or "Mikey!" Two huge guys sitting at a table next to each other, both bent over the same notebook, and sporting recons as extreme as Mikey’s, caused a brief commotion when they jumped up from their chairs to slap the back of Mikey’s bald head and chest-bump him. One was captain of the Figgleton County High School varsity wrestling team, and the other was a guard on the varsity basketball team. There were a few quiet laughs from nearby tables, and the librarian managed to give them both a smile and a stern look. They found their carrel, and Marshall saw that while it seated two people, since one of the people was a large jock, it was going to be a tight squeeze. Chairs arranged so that Mikey’s was pulled slightly further back from the carrel desk than Marshall’s, Mikey got out his last couple of chemistry quizzes and his notes from class to show Marshall where he was in need of some help. Marshall quickly saw where Mikey had made some miscalculations, guided him in seeing his errors, and provided him with some practice equations, which Mikey easily balanced and solved. The hour went by quickly.
You’re solid on this stuff, man," Marshall said. "I’m not sure you need much more from me."
Mikey smiled. Marshall noticed his blue eyes really twinkled when he smiled. Marshall found that twinkle appealing. With the recon, his features stood out, so there was nothing to stop Marshall from finding the dimple on his chin equally appealing.
" Chemistry is more my dad’s jam, but I like a good challenge. And you know, what we’re currently learning in class right now is busting my ass, so, yeah, I think I do need much more from you."
"Yup," Marshall replied. "Meet again here next Monday?" He was…relieved and…excited that they’d have more tutoring sessions.
"Can you make Wednesday afternoon, 2:30, work for ya? In addition to next Monday? I have a quiz Friday, I could use the extra prep. And, I, uh, there’s something extra I’d like ya to see…you’ll appreciate it," Mikey gave him another sh*t-eating grin as he leaned back in his chair, palming the shaved back of his head like a basketball. Marshall gave him one back this time.
"I finish classes at 2:00 on Wednesday. I can probably make arrangements to be here."
"If you have any trouble, tell them you’re doing important science work for Mr. Carson!" They both laughed, and then exchanged phones so they could share contact information.
They gathered up their materials, and as they bent over to pick up their backpacks, they knocked heads. Straightening back up, backpacks now on their laps, Marshall impulsively, and boldly for him, reached over and ran his hand up the smooth, shiny back of Mikey’s shaved head, over the crown, where his palm soon connected with the very short and surprisingly soft velvety bristles of the patch of dark blond hair on top. The contrast between the shaved skin and the tightly clipped bristles, no fading between the two, gave Marshall a slight and pleasurable jolt.
"Look at you, not a hair out of place. I hope you’ll be okay." He removed his hand and stood up, pushing his chair back and giving Mikey room to stand, too.
Standing now, Mikey reached a hand up and gently clasped the back of Marshall's neck, flattening a handful of his chestnut locks with his palm. "So much hair in place! I’m good! Are you, okay, bro?"
In agreement that they were in fact both fine, they made their way out of the school and to the parking lot, heading to Marshall’s truck, since he had agreed to give Mikey a ride home after the tutoring session.

To be continued.

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