“Hey dude, we’re Aisle Seven,” he shouted, in his big, deep booming, and increasingly annoying voice. “Where are you?”
“I’ve only just got here,” retorted Jason, slightly irritated. “Not everyone’s parents are like a taxi service.”
“Whatever, dude.” Sam as good ignored this. “Go to the milk aisle, we’ll meet you there,”
Jason headed towards the milk aisle, on his immediate left. He passed Aisle Seven on his way there, but it was empty. Jason was puzzled.
“Remind me, once again, why we’re here,” he insisted. “I’m confused.” More laughter, he thought. He shrugged it off, though.
Sam reassured Jason that they were there to buy milk for Jim’s mother. Jason was still slightly confused about their motives, but he felt a little better. He arrived at the milk aisle, and Sam told him that they’d be there in five minutes. Jason hung up, and started to wait. And wait.
And wait.
And wait.
And wait some more.
Finally, he lost it. It had been almost fifteen minutes, and Jason’s friends still weren’t here yet. He phoned David again. This time, Jimmy answered. David’s mobile phone was passed around a lot for some reason.
“Sorry dude, we got kicked out of the shop!” pleaded Jimmy. Jason was a little disappointed, but realised that that kind of thing was inevitable, with their behaviour. He suddenly realised that he could hear Sam laughing in the background, and then he recognised Jim’s laugh in the background when he was talking to Sam. Something was going on. Jason demanded top speak to Sam again. When he came on the phone, Sam couldn’t stop laughing.
“What on Earth is so funny?” asked Jason, getting agitated by his friends’ antics. “What’s going on?”
“Doov feer enn fowm!” chuckled Sam, unable to speak properly, but still vaguely understandable as “Dude, we’re in town”. He calmed down. “We never were in Tesco!”
“What?” Jason demanded. “What are you doing?”
“We got some cider!” came the response. “We’re getting drunk, and it’s so fun! Come and join us!”
Jason couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He told Sam to go away, but far less politely, told him that he “sucked”, and hung up the phone. Realising he had no way to argue, he walked into town to find his friends, distributing several abusive text messages evenly along the way.
When he arrived in town, he headed straight for “the square”, a “hang-out” spot by the Waterside shopping centre, for local teenage punks. He turned his head, and shielded his eyes from the summer sun. He spotted the High Street, a hill on which most of the shops were. He phoned David again, to announce his arrival. David discussed something with the rest of his friends, and eventually decided to send Chris, a friend from school, down to meet Jason and bring him back.
As Chris emerged into view, Jason could see the disapproval in his large, dark eyes. Chris obviously felt the same way about the drinking as Jason did.
“Hey dude, what’s up?” Jason asked, by way of casual greeting.
“I’m kind of bored,” Chris replied. He obviously was. He was looking around, his dark, curly hair offering a shade from the sun.
“Where are the guys?” Jason asked, half-heartedly. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. Chris answered anyway:
“They’re up the hill, getting hammered,” Chris replied again, with the same tone of disappointment.
“Just out of curiosity, where did they get the cider from?” asked Jason, genuinely concerned.
“Sam can get served.”
Jason couldn’t believe that they would stoop so low. Then realised that they were just the type of people to do something like that. He forced it out of his mind.
They set off up the High Street. When they reached the top, just past a small surf, skate and snowboard shop called S3, they turned left to find a small park, where their friends had been for most of the day. Jason glared at them all.
“Thanks a lot, you guys!” he yelled, bitterly sarcastic.
“You’re welcome!” most of them yelled back, completely off their heads. Jason noticed David propped up against a tree. He looked lifeless. For a moment, Jason almost felt sorry for him. Then his anger returned, and he turned away in disgust. He found himself facing Jim, also sitting on the ground against a tree, but being the life and soul of the party, as usual. Jim beckoned to Jason to sit down.
Jason noticed that everyone was sitting in an almost formless circle. He joined them, as did Chris, on the other side. He sat in silence, trying to enjoy his company. He noticed that he was sat between David, now awake, and Sam, trying to talk louder than everyone else. Jason still found Sam’s voice annoying. He tried to get Sam’s attention, but Sam ignored him, so Jason tapped him on the shoulder a couple of times. In what have been only about 2 seconds, Sam’s face took on a dark look, his fists tightened; he wrapped his wallet chain around his hand and turned around slowly. Jason cowered instinctively. Sam’s fist, wrapped in the chain, loudly made contact with the back of Jason’s head. Jason stood up and fell forward. He tried to stand up whilst simultaneously he was falling from the impact of Sam’s blow to the head. He steadied himself, whirled round to face his company, tears in his eyes. Words deserted him. He backed away, holding his head, his mouth open in disbelief. A lifetime of painful silence followed, until Jason finally spoke. Four words only escaped his lips:
“I quit the band”
He spun around and stormed off, still clutching his head. Jeering laughter and abuse followed his departure.
Jason called his father and was taken home, where he spent the rest of the day. He watched TV, played on the family’s computer and his PlayStation 2. He couldn’t get the events of the previous day out of his head. He was constantly thinking about it. Jason tried to forget about it, and decided to turn his back on his so-called “friends”, just as they had done to him. That night, a Sunday, Jason packed his bag for school, dreading what David and Sam would say to him.
That morning, Jason woke himself up with nervous energy. He looked at the clock.
“Half six?” he cried. “How early?” Unable to get back to sleep, he jumped out of bed and went to get a shower. After his shower, her got dressed in his school uniform, which he had always hated.
“Morning, Dad!” Jason yelled, as he walked down the stairs for breakfast. Jason’s father was shocked. Jason, awake before seven, he thought?
“Morning!” he answered. “What are you doing up at this time?”
“Dunno, guess I’m just a little nervous.”
“Why on earth would you be nervous? You’re going to school!” Jason knew exactly why he was nervous, and he wished he hadn’t mentioned it. But he also knew that he couldn’t tell his father.
“No idea, I’m feeling a little strange today”
Jason sat down to his regular bowl of Cheerios, and ran the events of Saturday over and over in his head. He instantly understood the irony that the last song he heard before seeing his friends was Papa Roach’s “Binge”, a song about alcoholism and substance abuse. He was suddenly absorbed concurrently by fear and sympathy. He thought about the possibility, and his irrational state of mind brought him to the conclusion that his friends were turning into alcoholics. He instantly snapped out of it, and recognised that he had overreacted. He adjusted his focus back to his breakfast, and saw that it had become a disgusting mass of sogginess. He threw it away and went upstairs to brush his teeth.
Picking up his bag, Jason stuffed his lunch in it, and then put his shoes on. He stood by the door, and waited for his brother, Jack.
“Hurry up, Jack! School starts at half eight!” he shouted.
“Yes, I know. I’m not stupid!” retorted Jack, annoyed by his brother.
“Yes you are!”
Once everyone was ready, something happened, as usual, and suddenly, Joe wasn’t ready. He had forgotten to pack his PE outfit, and it was ten minutes past eight!
Eventually, Jack got his kit sorted out, and they left. Predictably, they were late. Jason apologised to his form tutor, and quickly sat down.
The first couple of lessons went past really quickly. Jason was surprised, as ICT and Graphics were normally really slow-moving lessons. At break, he did his best to avoid Sam and David, and accidentally bumped into Chris.
“Dude…” he began.
“Save it, dude,” Jason interrupted. “I’m not in the mood. I just spent all of break avoiding Sam and David. It’s lucky Jim doesn’t come to this school!”
“I was just gonna tell you that I left too. Those guys took it too far. Jim passed out, and David started singing ‘I’m a Little Goblin’! They were completely hammered. I couldn’t take it anymore.”
“Well, at least you held out longer than I did!” said Jason, trying to laugh. He couldn’t.
The day then instantly slowed down. Jason struggled through his lessons, thinking about nothing but Saturday. He came to the conclusion that this was going to mentally scar him for life unless he sorted it out soon. As soon as he arrived home after school, he planned to talk to David, and ask him why they decided to do it. He figured that this would set his mind at rest.
The next morning, Jason woke up at seven O’ clock, as usual, and had a shower, as usual. He got dressed and went downstairs for breakfast, as usual. It all seemed a little regular. Jason couldn’t help but think that he might have finally thrown the weight that was Saturday from his mind. He continued his morning routine, and got ready for school surprisingly efficiently.
Getting to school on time, Jason was amazed into working hard for once, and he forgot, albeit temporarily, about Saturday’s events. However, when he bumped into David at lunchtime, he instantly remembered his plan from the previous day.
“Hey dude, enjoy yourself on Saturday?” he asked, still bitter.
“Sure, it was cool,” replied David, grinning. Jason looked away. “Pity you weren’t there, really!”
“Oh, thanks. That’s really going to help, isn’t it?” Sour sarcasm pulsed through Jason’s words.
“You’re welcome. I only wanted to say sorry for Sam,” pleaded David. He appeared genuine enough. “He was being a complete idiot. He didn’t know what he was doing.”
“Well, you’re right about him being an idiot. But he wasn’t even that drunk. He still shouldn’t have hit me.”
“Yeah, but we don’t like him either. The only reason we hang around him is ‘cause he can get served.”
“But why did you want to get alcohol in the first place?” Jason asked.
“ ‘Cause Sam had had a few at his parents’ New Year’s party last year.”
“Sounds like he got hooked.” Jason was disappointed. Sam had been a good friend up until now. Jason shook his head in disbelief. He was absolutely stunned. He couldn’t believe that Sam would get himself involved in something like this.
The week went by, and Jason managed to keep himself away from David and Sam, and ignoring Jim’s phone calls. He instead spent his breaks and lunchtimes hanging around with Chris and Chris’ friend Steve. Jason already knew Steve, but not very well. The first time Steve walked up to him, Steve’s ridiculously thin body had adopted the most flamboyant and camp walk ever created. Jason laughed at loud, and they had been acquaintances ever since. Now they were friends.
It turned out that all three of them had similar musical tastes, and Chris had been taking drum lessons from Jason. Steve played the guitar, and Jason had started to learn to play the bass guitar from Jim. They had the makings of a new band! Jason was the only one of them who could sing, so he took on lead vocals duties. Chris, Steve and Jason threw themselves whole-heartedly into their new project. Struggling for a name, they tried several Random Band Name Generators on the Internet, before coming up with Fistful Of Sound, which abbreviated to F.O.S.. Their wide range of influences suited the name very well. The set up a weekly practise in Jason’s garage, as Chris didn’t yet have a drum kit.
Gradually, the band took Jason’s mind off that Saturday, and even almost bumping into Sam at school couldn’t bring him down. He was more cheerful at school, even with the increasing amount of homework and coursework. Everything else was put on hold. F.O.S. was the priority. This annoyed Jason’s parents, as he wasn’t paying as much attention to his schoolwork, but Jason couldn’t care less. He was enjoying himself, learning a new instrument, gaining confidence, and paving the way for a possible career. He was over the moon at these prospects.
But good things must come to an end.
Even though Jason had been speaking less and less to David, he was still concerned about him, as a friend. When he learned that David had become very ill one weekend after a day’s worth of mixing cider with Red Square, he was distraught. He couldn’t stop thinking about David’s condition, and at one practise, Steve and Chris noticed that Jason mind was elsewhere.
“What is the matter with you, dude?” Steve asked. Since starting to hang around with Jason, Steve had also picked up the word “dude”. “We’ve been through ‘Seven Nation Army’ three times, and you still haven’t remembered where the solo is.”
“I know, but I keep thinking about David.”
“Why, are you in love with him or something?” laughed Chris, from behind the kit.
“No! But he might have got alcohol poisoning.” Silence. Chris and Steve were befuddled. Finally, Steve spoke:
“What?”
“Yeah, I didn’t know how either,” Jason said. “I didn’t think they were that involved.”
“No, I mean, why do you care?” Jason was taken aback by this question from Steve. “I mean, he turned his back on you when you needed a friend the most.” He beckoned towards Chris. “We wouldn’t do that.”
“Thanks you guys, and you’re right. He brought it on himself. Not my problem.”
With his mind set at rest, the band, continued their practise, and everything went perfectly. They learnt three new songs, and were contemplating organising a gig. Jason asked Chris and Steve if they wanted to stay the night. They both agreed.
The next day, they practised the songs they had learned, until they had them almost perfect. Jason was especially pleased, and once again, F.O.S. was the priority.
School wasn’t nearly so bad that week, as Jason’s mind was completely off the subject that had plagued him since its occurrence. He didn’t even notice that David wasn’t at school all week. When he realised, he was instantly worried, but shrugged it off. After all, what had David done to redeem himself? Nothing, thought Jason.
When he got home on Friday, Jason was in one of the best moods that he had ever been in. His life seemed to be running smoothly, his band was getting increasingly better during the course of the weeks they had been in existence. Then he saw the local newspaper open on the table. It had a picture of David on it:
“Local Teenager Dead From Alcohol Poisoning”
