Pianos and Vodka

We went to the city after school. Marisa and Andrew and I. We met Sarah and Spenser at Hungry Jack's. I met Chelsea's boyfriend Harris, and Pyro, and Tom. I was hyperactive, laughing and screaming at nothing. Stoned on freedom. I often think that Friday afternoons in the city are the best part of life, week-to-week. The waiting. Ancient History. It's hot. I watch the minutes tick past, lethargic, not taking notes, staring out the window, counting down. Then finally ... I meet Marisa and we go to the tuckshop to meet Anderew. Walking fast to get the 807. The bus trip, standing up on the packed bus. Then ... we're there. Running. Laughing. Throwing insults back and forth. The prospect of a whole afternoon to do whatever we like looms ahead.
We were stupid all afternoon. Marisa and I went into a shop, walked into the front window display area and posed there, like the mannequins. Spenser filmed us. We were only there for about thirty seconds, before the lady behind the counter started yelling at us. I was incredibly scared that she was going to call the cops but also laughing hysterically. I picked up my bag and we hotfooted it out of there.
Anyway, Pyro was 18 today, so he bought us a bottle of vodka. God bless him. Laughing, unable to believe our luck, we went back to Marisa's apartment. We passed the bottle around. Sitting cross legged on her mattress, my shoes off, my heavy bag on the ground, I felt content. I played Marisa's piano in my stocking feet. Pedal, pedal, pedal as I hit the keys. She showed me how to play the opening chords of 'Coin-Operated Boy'. I danced my fingers over the keys, finding notes that sounded right. I had bought new headphones, so I played Half Jack on my iPod and played the piano along to it. The noise was probably terrible, as Marisa was playing Regina Spektor, but no one complained so I kept going. Music and alcohol, I thought. Where would we be without it? We ate the strawberry Pocky sticks I had bought from the Asian grocery. I left the packet on the piano, with one stick left in it. Present to Marisa and her piano.
My goodness, Nine Inch Nails are quite fantastic. For some reason I just started to love the song 'Ringfinger.' I like the end part ... 'Devil's flesh and bone ... Do something for me.'