Fidelity

Chapter One:

“WAKE UP, YOU RETARD.”
Jaxon Sanders groaned heavily, flipping himself onto his back. Sleepily, he turned to face the lime-green alarm clock that sat on the nightstand. Red neon lights blinked at his half-closed eyes- 7:00am. Time to go to school.
“Fuck it,” Jaxon sighed wearily, tunneling back beneath the warm duvet cover. Since when was school a top priority, anyway?
Downstairs his mother was still yelling, screeching at the top of her lungs for him to get out of bed- he was going to miss the bus if he kept this up.
But Jaxon knew how this would end up. It was the same basic routine every single year on the first day of school: Jaxon slept in, his mother got pissed at him, and then he reluctantly left for school. One hour late.
Same old, same old.
Then he did something he probably hadn’t done since the first or second grade. Slowly and purposefully, he swung his long legs out of the bed, kicking the dark blue duvet along with them. He sat contentedly on the side of the bed, crumpled navy sheets tightly grasped in his left hand. Jaxon peered once again at his clock, and nodded to himself. Today was his first day as a Senior at Red Stone Prep. And not only that, but it was his 17th birthday too.
“Responsibility,” he muttered to himself, thinking about all the times his teachers had thrown that word in his face. “From now on, I get up on time.”
Jaxon stood up and walked towards his mirror, raking a hand through his hair. He gave himself the once-over, as he did every morning, just to make sure that he looked even better than yesterday.
And of course he did.
Jaxon was one of those people who could roll out of bed, muss his hair, pull on some dirty old Converse and a pair of jeans, then head out the door looking completely presentable. He had dark brown hair, a perfectly angular face, and what set him apart from most desirable guys: big eyes, with eyelashes better suited for a girl, and deep violet irises. They had this sort of sparkle in them, which basically told you that he knew exactly how good looking he was.
“JAXON, GET THE FUCK UP!”
“I am up,” Jaxon called back, turning away from his mirror to grab his favorite pair of jeans, which were hanging on the back of his computer seat. They’d been Fed-Ex’d as a Christmas gift from his older brother Tommy that time he’d taken a gap year and spent it traveling around the world with his then-girlfriend Cheska (who was like a heiress to some huge family fortune), before dumping her and heading to some weird university in Switzerland that he’d been accepted to on account of his randomly flawless French.
Jaxon shook his head as he pulled on a new Abercrombie T-shirt to go with his jeans. Man, he missed having Tommy around to offer him unneeded first-day advice. “Fuck with the Frosh” and “Have eyesex with every hot girl you see” had always been fun to hear. Then the traditional, “Oh yeah, happy birthday, loser,”came as they reached the bus stop and split to talk to their friends.
Shaking away all his reminiscing, Jaxon headed to the bathroom, where he threw some water onto his face and hair, stuck a toothbrush loaded with Colgate into his mouth, and used the toilet before grabbing his bag from his room and going downstairs to the kitchen for breakfast.
“About time,” Mrs. Sanders said, looking over her shoulder from the coffee maker. “Happy birthday, hun.”
“Thanks, mom,” Jaxon replied, sitting down at the table. His mother had sliced banana and sprinkled brown sugar into his cornflakes, which was what she always did on the morning of his birthday, ever since he was five. “Where’s dad?”
“Emergency at the station.” Mrs. Sanders poured herself and Jaxon cups of coffee. “You’ll see him at dinner. Are you doing anything after school today?”
Jaxon shrugged. “Yeah. I’ll probably hang out with Caspar and Dean. Nothing illegal.”
Mrs. Sanders rolled her eyes as she handed him a cup of coffee. “Of course. Well, have a nice day at school.” She kissed the top of his head. “I’m going back to sleep.”
“‘Bye, mom.” Jackson stuffed another spoonful of cereal into his mouth. He listened for the click of his parents’ bedroom door closing before pulling his mobile phone out of his pocket and calling number 2 on his speed dial.
“Hello?” The voice on the other end said sleepily.
“Hey, gorgeous,” Jaxon drawled into the phone. “Did I wake you up?”
“Yeah, sorta,” Taryn Sommer-Hirst replied. Jaxon heard her shift her phone to her other ear. “What’s up?”
“Eating breakfast.” Jaxon shrugged, then crunched into his cornflakes for proof.
“Cool,” Taryn yawned. “Oh, hey, happy birthday, sweetie.”
“Thanks. Did you get me a present?”
“Totes,” she giggled. “You’ll get it after school.”
“Can’t wait.”
“Yeah, you’ll like it.” Taryn paused. “Hey, I’ll see you later, okay? I’m gonna get dressed. Love you.”
“Love you too.” Jaxon clicked off. He drummed his knee with one hand as he tapped the number 3 on his speed dial, then pressed the phone against his ear again.
“If this is Mr. Wellington calling about last year’s history coursework, I promise I’ll give it to you the second I--”
“Well hello to you too, Cas,” Jaxon laughed down the phone, wiping a droplet of milk from his grinning lips. It was so like Caspar to worry about schoolwork before classes even started for the year.
“Oh, it’s you,” Caspar sighed, relief flooding each syllable, “why’re you calling me now?”
“What, so now I’m not allowed to call my best friend? My best friend who doesn’t even wish me a happy birthday?”
Jaxon was pouting as he spoke. He knew that Caspar obviously couldn’t see him, but it was just one of the things Jaxon liked doing- acting as if a camera was constantly trained on his face.
“Yeah, uh, happy birthday dude,” Caspar mumbled quickly, “But seriously, why are you calling? Did the principal contact you?”
“Woa woa woa, easy there now--”
“She did, didn’t she!”
Caspar was getting hysterical, voice high-pitched and wavering. Stifling his laughter, Jaxon quickly began calming down his best friend.
”Gotta cut this short before he has a stroke or something,” he thought to himself mildly.
“Jax, you fucker, tell me what’s wrong! Did I fail that French exam? Am I in the retard class? Tell me, or I swear to god I’ll--”
CLICK.
Smugly, Jaxon lay the phone down on the table, shaking his head and smirking. He spooned up some more cereal, wondering if Caspar really would murder him that day at school. For a skinny pale kid with curly hair and thick glasses, he had a wicked punch.
Once he’d licked all traces of sugar from his fingertips, Jaxon decided to make one more call. It surprised him that he’d forgotten to call this person- usually he was the first to receive any first-day-of-school greetings from Jaxon.
Swiftly as before, he pressed number 4 on his phone, chewing a final mouthful of banana heftily and loudly.
“Heya, Jax,” a chirpy voice said at the other end. Jaxon could hear the smile in his words.
“Heya yourself,” he retorted, mouth still partially full.
“I hope you aren’t eating breakfast still, dude, school starts in like 15 minutes.”
Jaxon grunted in response. “Don’t be such a prude, Deany.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Aww, why not?”
Dean took a sharp breath. “Because it’s fucking queer, thats why.”
“Tut tut,” Jaxon chided mockingly, “Someone’s getting defensive.”
“Shut up. Look, man I gotta go now, the coach is throwing a bitch fit with me,” Dean said hurriedly, but still with that smiley tone of voice.
“What? You signed up for rugby again?”
“ ‘Course I did! Why are you so shocked?”
Jaxon has to contemplate that question for a while. “You seemed to hate it last semester.”
Dean snorted loudly. “As if. Rugby’s kind of a mandatory ritual for me now. And even if I don’t always like it, it keeps me fit. Y’know. For the ladies.”
“Whatever, Romeo,” Jaxon laughed, “Anyway, see you at school. Science. Be there or be punched in the jaw.”
“Not unless I get there first!”
Jaxon hung up, smiling as he gathered his used bowl and spoon and headed for the sink.
After carelessly dumping the dishes on the sideboard, he grabbed his bag and headed the door, glancing at his watch out of habit. It was ten past eight, which meant school had already started. Jaxon shook his head, sighing. He didn’t really mind. It just seemed like he ought to be at least a little more... conscious?
Cold wind hit him the moment the front door creaked open. He closed his eyes and breathed in the fresh, zesty scent that drifted into his nostrils from Mr. Baker’s mint plants. This was another one of those things that Jaxon did every year on his birthday. Another tradition that he’d adopted out of no-where. It seemed like a nice thing to do, too, just stand there for a couple seconds and sniff the cool winter air.
Slowly, he cracked open his eyes, a smile spreading over his lips.
“Today will be awesome,” he breathed happily, and swaggered off down the pathway.