Chapter 7 - Intoxication

Jordon's alarm clock yelled at him. He groaned. His bed was soft and warm like a loaf of bread, his body was relaxed. Jordon's arm extended from under his duvet. The hairs on his arm curled, sending goosebumps to overpower him.

His alarm silenced. There was a feeling, bittersweet, of absence. The stale taste of alcohol hung over his tonsils. Jordon's field of vision blurred around the edges, like a cliche movie version of a flashback.

A hint of intoxication consumed his body.

Jordon's body and mind and soul were three separate items joined together involuntarily by chains of life.

Jordon peeled himself off his bed like a week-old sunburn. He felt woozy as his weight fell to his feet.

An aching ring pierced his ear. It jumped from bone to skin and back to bone again.

Jordon clutched his bedside table as his feet tripped over one another. He trudged down the hall, into the bathroom. He stripped himself of his clothes and smirked. As the water rained out of the shower head, Jordon was shocked.

"Ah, Iseewhatyadointhere," Jordon slurred as he nodded. "Old fella'..."

He stepped into the shower, the water extremely cold.

Jordon unscrewed his shampoo, and poured half the contents into his hand. He massaged it into his luxurious hair.

"Be free," Jordon whispered blissfully as his head met the running water. He giggled, saliva dripping from his lips.

The morning passed by, classes were filled with a laughing- and quite frankly, loopy- Jordon. James Blair walked to his second period class. His eyes flitted from his school schedule and to the hallway ahead of him.

January 29th, first period passed, second period has yet to come. The sun brightly shines through the unwashed windows, adding no life to the dull, fluorescent halls. Nobody acknowledged it, nobody stopped to take a look.

James's lips were chapped and faded, his mouth was pulled into a tight frown His tall physique was drawing attention, people whispered. A tinge of anxiety tugged at his skin.

His cello, snug in its case, was strapped to his back. The steady pounding of a metronome fled from the orchestra room. A single viola quietly created a melody, and was told to sit in the sixth row.

James opened the door, and walked in quietly. Two-hundred thirty eyes stared at him. He found his voice, and swallowed. "Hello, I'm new, My name is James Blair."

The conductor thought for a moment, then clapped loudly. Everybody shifted in their seats. "Ah, yes! James, James, James! What a magnificent time to arrive, we are doing chair testing!" his voice boomed. The concertmaster, a girl, shielded her ears with her hands. "You play the cello, I suppose?" he said curiously.

James nodded. The concertmaster made a cuckoo symbol with her hand, James grunted without revealing a smile.

"Bellissimo!" the conductor exclaimed. "Sit, sit! Let's place you- er- there! There, yes!" He sat on the edge of his stool, awaiting James's playing.

James Blair sauntered over to his assigned set, unpacked his cello, tuned it quickly, and placed his bow on the string. "Is there something I should play?"

"Three octave F major scale, with an arpeggio of course," Loud Man replied.

James sighed, and pulled his bow along the string. Each finger, one after one, met the strings and sung like a choir. The pattern reversed, and the arpeggio was thrown in.

Each ingredient in the batter joined together.

Eyes stared into him, trying to spot a flaw. James finished with vigorous melodic vibrato.

"Up front now! That was superior! Did you see that everybody?!" the conductor shrieked.

Natalia looked over at James as he walked over and sat across from her. A grain of jealousy was thrown at her from thin air.

She watched him as he listened to the rest of the testers. His blond hair laid across his forehead, his glasses provided a subtle look into his green eyes, without revealing too much.

James and Natalia locked eyes, and Natalia blushed when James smirked at her.