Aliens Wrecked Out Kegger - Author Commentary Edition: Chapter 1

Clyde’s hand slapped against the wooden door, probably the only chunk of the entire dorm room that wasn’t a cheap piece of shit. That part, at least, the college was required spend some money on. Safety and security, the pretenses every university had to pretend to care about, regardless of how much they actually did. It was a fine policy overall, although Clyde was less fond of it as his palm began to grow sore from hitting the door so much.

“Dougie! Open the fuck up, Dougie. I swear to god, I’ll knock this shit down.”

“Good luck.” The muffled voice from the other side only made Clyde more annoyed, an impressive effect given how much frustration the day had already heaped on his shoulders. “It’s locked and solid wood; all you’ll do is hurt yourself.”

Taking a step back, Clyde noticed a few curious looks coming from the cracked-open slivers of other doors. He stared the nearest one down until it shut, some of the others following suit. It was bad enough that Dougie had ended up in Franklin Hall, the nerdiest of dorms on campus, but Clyde would be damned if he was wasting any of his time explaining the situation to these dorks. Time was short, there was shitload left to do before tonight, and this was noton the schedule. Clyde liked his schedule; it helped keep his anxiety at bay by letting him plan the day ahead of time. Dougie was throwing that off, and so far as Clyde was concerned, he’d officially run out of time.

“You’ve got me there, Dougie. I won’t break the door down. Smasher, on the other hand, will.”

Hearing his name, Smasher crunched forward, the ground under his feet appearing as though it dearly wished it had chosen another vocation. Smasher looked like someone had wished for a cinderblock to become a real person, but whatever fairy cast the spell had really half-assed it. He was strong as an ox, but not exactly fit, just huge in nearly every capacity. He was the most beloved lineman on the football team, both for his ability to stop pretty much anyone who tried to get through him, and for the fact that no one really wanted to be surly to a walking boulder. It probably also didn’t hurt that Smasher was unexpectedly gentle and kindhearted off the field, even if his overall intelligence did rival that of his supposed cinderblock origins.

“Smasher, don’t you dare. This is school property.” Dougie was getting louder now, his desperation peeking through.

“Not going to work. Smasher breaks two doors a day by accident when he opens them; you think anyone will give a shit about this one?” The school might actually give quite a large shit about breaking and entering someone else’s dorm room, so Clyde crossed his fingers that it wouldn’t come to that. It still beat the other option, though.

There were a few moments of silence, then Dougie spoke again, this time from obviously closer to the door. “Why won’t you just let this go? I’ve got cereal, a new video game, and a weekend with no homework. It’s Saturday. Just leave me alone and let me spend it how I want.”

“Look, Dougie, no one would rather leave you alone more than me. You think I want to babysit you this evening? Spend one of the biggest nights of my year making sure my dopey younger brother isn’t trying to bore people with talk about space shows? Fuck no, I hate this, too. But I’ve got my orders, and they were explicitly clear. You are coming with us tonight, you are going to socialize, and I will be watching over to make sure you at least try to have a good time.”

“We could say that’s what we did,” Dougie suggested.

“Uh huh. And when has she ever bought one of our lies? Like it or not, the Omicron Phi pledge drive is tonight, and as social chair, I have a heap of stuff still left to do for it. Smasher is supposed to be helping me haul kegs right this very moment, in fact. So either open the damn door and come with us, or you can call Mom and convince her not to make me drag you out. I don’t give a shit either way, but I’m not spending all of tomorrow on the phone getting guilted for ignoring her orders. Me, Smasher, and a kegger full of strangers, or Mom. Which scares you more?”

The click from the other side betrayed Dougie’s surrender before the door slung open. Behind it was a shorter version of Clyde, one who didn’t dress as well or suffer from the near-crippling desire to keep his living space tidy. Empty boxes and bowls of leftover milk littered the shelves, and a fine covering of presumably dirty clothes formed a carpet on the floor. Dougie himself looked like he was wearing camouflage for this specific room, clad in a stained t-shirt and wrinkled shorts that had almost certainly come directly off the floor. Clyde gulped as soon as he saw it, flashing back to the brief, hellish time when he and Dougie shared a room.

“Okay, let’s just go.” Dougie started to step forward, but Clyde motioned for Smasher to stop him. A thick hand instantly rested carefully against Dougie’s chest, not shoving him back while also not letting him advance a single step forward.

“You look like someone coming from an amazing party, not a person heading toward one. This is our pledge drive; people come dressed to impress. If I let you attend in those clothes, you’ll stick out like a sore thumb that smells like ass. Go put on the nicest, cleanest thing you have. Probably hand-me-downs from yours truly that you never bothered to wear.”

Dougie grumbled, half under his breath, “I have my own nice clothes.”

“Really? Prove it. You’ve got five minutes to change.” Clyde, never one to make idle threats about time or his schedule, checked the second hand on his watch to ensure a perfect count.

“And if I take longer, what are you going to do, break my door down?”

Stepping nearer, Clyde placed himself in the way of the former wooden obstacle, making sure it wouldn’t close. “No. We’re not letting you lock us out again. And if you take longer than the four minutes and change you have left, I’m going to ask Smasher to carry you with across campus in whatever state of dress you’re in. So start with pants, if you want to preserve your modesty.”

Dougie looked as though he were about to protest, so Clyde lifted his watch and tapped the face twice. “It’s your time. Is this really how you want to spend it?”

With a grunt, Dougie shoved to the door as closed as it would go, getting it down to a mere crack, before the sounds of hurried scavenging came from the room. For his sake, Clyde hoped Dougie managed to pull an outfit together in time. If they did drag him across campus, Clyde probably wouldn’t hear the end of it for the rest of the night.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

For my first run at a true novella, rather than a short story, I supposed it’s not shocking that I went back to college as the setting. Not only is a fun, dynamic environment, but it was a great place to hide the chaos of aliens arriving.

Clyde came about as my main character because I wanted someone who was driven to constant movement and would keep the story going, while also hopefully being a person readers would relate to. His near-constant anxiety and trying to keep so many plates spinning is an issue I feel like a lot of have grappled with, though ideally not to such extremes.

Dougie was a natural foil for his over-anxious brother, a more go-with-the-flow type that can be enviable at times, but also frustrating if you’re trying to get them out the door on time.

I’ll talk more about Smasher when we get to later chapters, but I thought it was worth mentioning that at this point in the novella writing, I wasn’t sure if this cast would be recurring or not. That’s why you hear about Clyde and Dougie’s mother, who is meant to sound like a character in her own right, without seeing more of her.

At least, not yet.