To be a good all-around student, one must live by the motto of good grades, participating in activities, and still managing to hang out with friends. Golden Boy Alfred Kirkland-Bonnefoy was the icon for this way of life. He had a perfect daily routine that reserved some time for his homework, some time for football or the sport of the season, and sometime to just go let loose with some of his friends. In fact, it was his brother, Matthew, who was the one dying his hair the colors of the rainbow and listening to angry scream instead of whatever new Lady Gaga song was playing on the radio. His twin spent all living time inside, not really giving two shits about anything. Once or twice Alfred even caught his brother with a lit cigarette in his hand. Alfred was more of the star child of the Kirkland- Bonnefoy family, but that all stopped his sophomore year of high school.
Sometimes, when he is more close to being on the border line of sober, Alfred likes to think of when his life stopped happening. Then he remembers the party and the things that occurred that dreadful night.
The newest top twenty pop songs blared through the speakers so loudly that the whole house seemed to shake with every bass line. Soon-to-be-star quarterback of the school's varsity football team, Alfred, (this kid is just too damn good) was living it up, despite the sweat dripping down his back from the crowd of teens around him. The music seemed to sweep into his veins and carry his feet mindlessly. He was high on the drug of life at the beginning of this night. Soon though, the radio switched to a slow song, and the couples started to drift to the floor and dance together while the singles took the opportunity to cool down and maybe get a cold beer. This being a high school party and all, beer was pretty common and heck, Alfred had a few sips before. He never drank to heavy, because he always tried to be careful not to raise suspicion among his dads when he went back home. Tonight was no different as far as Alfred was concerned, but as he went to grab another beer, his friend Gilbert grabbed his arm. "Al, forget the crappy beer. A few other guys and my awesome self have something way better."
The blonde haired teen really couldn't protest as he was dragged away by the albino. Gilbert opened a door- which when Alfred's eyes adjusted to the light, he could easily tell was a bathroom- filled with only about four other guys, passing around what seemed like a normal cigarette, though the smell was much more pungent and earthy. Alfred was ushered inside so Gilbert could close the door, but even then the blonde couldn't shake the dumbfounded look that had taken over his face. He gaped at Gilbert. "Weed? No way, Gilbert."
Gilbert- as well as the other partyers in the bathroom- laughed. "Don't be such a pussy, Alfred. It's really awesome once you try it." As if to prove Gilbert's point correct, someone had passed the albino the stick and he smoked it in. Once he was done, the joint was passed to Alfred. The blonde just stared down at it, and then back to the people in the bathroom with him- all of whom were baked. They were staring down Alfred with expectant eyes, before starting to tease him one by one.
"He's so lame. Doesn't even have the balls to just give it a shot."
"Pussy."
"Candy ass."
Alfred screwed his eyes shut, screaming at himself that it was just peer pressure and he shouldn't care. But then, he felt the words take over his brain. As if his mind was taken over by an unknown force, the hand holding the joint was slowly brought up to his mouth. The taste wasn't as bad as anticipated, and Alfred sucked in, only to find the smoke irritating and cough it out. The baked party-goers started to laugh as if Alfred had just said the funniest thing ever instead of choke on the smoke. A random member slapped his back. "You get better in time, trust me. Give it another whack- the results are great."
Alfred wasn't so convinced, but then applied the regular rules to life: practice makes perfect. He picked the roll back up and tried it again, this time getting much better effects. He felt any hidden stress roll away and replaced with a feeling of flying. Alfred wasn't supper gone yet, but within the next few intakes, he was on his knees laughing from just staring at the faucet. Man, he felt so good and so free. Nothing else seemed to matter, like Thursday's chemistry test which he had been so stressed on getting a good grade for, or that States were coming up. The blonde left the bathroom and danced around like crazy, even starting to strip just because he felt so damn happy. Everything after that just blurred from his memory.
The next morning, Alfred woke sprawled in the bathtub of the host's house- a different bathroom then the one in which the potheads gathered in. His head just didn't feel full, and when he looked in the mirror his eyes were still a bit pink, but nothing he couldn't cover with a white lie like from lack of sleep. He opened the door and walked into the living room and saw Gilbert and a few other recognizable faces starting to wake. They chatted as they helped Antonio (the party's host) clean up- the basic unwritten rules of sleeping over after a party is to help clean up. After, Alfred took a shower there and headed home to face his parents' wrath.
The punishment wasn't bad at all. In fact, he was left with just a warning because he didn't tell them that he was going to be spending the night. The air on the walk over seemed to fan out most of the smoky smell, and he made sure not to get too close to his parents when being interrogated either. It seemed to fool them.
Over the weekend Alfred didn't do much else, and when it came time for school to start up that Monday he tried to refocus on getting tasks done, but his mind kept drifting to the sweet feeling of the ultimate starter's high. He started getting high at every party since then, now sometimes only going if he knew there was even a small chance of it being there. Alfred still struggled to keep his focus in school, but his grades had been starting to slip, just at an unnoticeable rate. He was starting to become sloppy at football practice, but only slightly so people only assumed he was just over stressed of his high position. Hanging out with friends seemed to halt, but nobody questioned it because they assumed he was too busy with other things but in reality, the sophomore was just trying to get his hands on another joint.
He didn't realize it at the time, but the Golden Boy's innocent canvas was starting to be painted black.
Sorry this chapter is so short! It's just an intro on how Alfred was introduced to drugs, and didn't think that it needed to be too long. Bear with me, this stuff will get better!