Life of the Party

by Christine Anderson

  We kept walking. I thought I might lose my mind with impatience, but I kept my mouth shut. He wasn’t going to get any help from me. If he had something to say to me, I wanted him to say it. I wanted to hear the words from his lips.

  “We were ….” He started again. “We were coming out there tonight so I could … apologize, Mackenzie … I’ve been terrible to you.”

  I had no argument for this.

  “I just … I never expected to feel … I mean, when I saw you there, tonight, I almost lost it. I think I did a little. Just the thought of you hurt or sad … or … or worse … I ….” He rubbed his hands over his face. “I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t stand the thought of you in pain … I was so angry. I wanted to tear that guy’s face off …. But I was even angrier at myself.”

  I nodded for him to continue.

  “I hate myself for hurting you, Mackenzie. When I think about what I’ve done … what I did to you, on purpose … it’s … I don’t know ….” He struggled for a moment. “… I understand if you hate me.”

  I sighed. Was that even possible? “I don’t hate you, Grey.” I admitted softly.

  “See? It’s you, right? I thought that you were just like all the others … vain and petty and … boring. But you … I’ve never met anyone like you before. You’ve got this … this spark, or something. You’re alive. But I didn’t want to admit what I felt for you. I didn’t even know I was capable of it … you know? I tried to convince myself otherwise.”

  I nodded again, trying to maintain my rigidity … but I couldn’t help myself. My heart was melting, my careful façade breaking. He was saying all the things I’d ever wanted him to say, and my poor, foolish heart could do nothing but warm to him, utterly powerless, utterly defenceless. I crossed my arms in an effort to remain untouched.

  Somehow we were standing on the street in front of my house already. The blocks had vanished unnoticed behind me as we walked, completely occupied by the sound of his voice, deep and low in the quiet, speaking those impossible words to me. Now we stopped and faced each other, the nearby streetlight shining softly over us, lighting our faces and casting our shadows long behind.

  “Tell me why.” I demanded.

  “Why? You mean why … I hurt you?” Grey glowered down at the ground for a moment. “Because.” He smirked sadly, “Because … you’re so young. So … innocent. But not in a bad way … in a good way … like no one I’ve ever known before. I mean, look at you.” He did just that, his eyes soft and tender as they swept my face. “You’re so beautiful.”

  My voice was faint with amazement. “You think I’m beautiful?”

  He looked up at me, into my eyes, and gave a slight nod. “But that’s why I tried to … ignore what I felt. Why I tried to deny it. I mean … I could never deserve someone like you. You’re young, and sweet, and you’ve got your whole life ahead of you, and I … I’m just some old loser trying desperately not to grow up.”

  “You are not a loser.” I denied vehemently, grasping his arm. “Are you kidding me? I’ve never met anyone as talented as you. You’re … amazing.”

  Silence descended again. Grey crossed his arms, thinking. I watched him warily, my heart pounding furiously in my chest as my secret hope pushed all the surging, hidden joy through my veins. I forced myself to hold back, barely containing my happiness, and waited, biting my lip, staring up into his face.

  “I know it’s wrong.” Grey spoke then. “I know it’s selfish. But I’ve never wanted anything so badly in my whole life. Not as bad as I want you.” His blue eyes blazed sincerely. “I can’t deny it anymore. But I’ve been horrible to you, so if you can’t forgive me … if you never want to see me again … I understand.”

  I smiled. I couldn’t help it, I never could. I loved him. I reached out and grasped his hand, gently, mindful of the bruised, swollen knuckles that had been battered fighting Brad. He’d fought Brad for me. For me.

  “Grey, the only thing about this that could ever be wrong,” I stared up into his eyes, so he’d know that I was truly serious, so he’d know that I meant every word with my whole, entire heart, “would be never seeing you again.”

  He seemed overwhelmed. He just stared at me, his eyes sweeping my face, and I smiled in return, a happy giggle escaping my lips. With his fingers he brushed the hair from my cheek, traced gently over my cuts and my bruises, and then lifted my chin with the palm of his hand.

  “Can I kiss you?” He whispered.

  I wrapped my arms around his neck, bringing us closer still.

  “Please.” My fingers curled into his dark, messy hair.

  And when his lips touched mine, they were curved in a smile.

  CHAPTER 23

  I was on cloud nine. That was the only way I knew to describe it. Whenever I had a spare moment throughout the day my mind would instantly whir to that night, would go over again each and every word Grey had said, every move he had made, every look he had given me. Every kiss we had shared. My heart nearly burst. A wide, happy grin would spread over my face and I’d sigh with excitement and utter contentment.

  I did this in the middle of our English exam. I just couldn’t focus anymore on the reading comprehension, so instead I thought of Grey. I spent half the morning in my own little world, absently twisting a strand of hair through my fingers, dreamy and far off. When the teacher warned us there was only twenty minutes remaining, I suddenly snapped back into it and hastily finished the rest of my test, guessing on most the answers and assuming on the others. I hoped I would graduate.

  But I hadn’t seen him since Friday night. That was the only downer to my mood. And it wasn’t likely that I’d see Grey before the weekend. All last Saturday the entire band had been in the city meeting with their new label and I hadn’t been able to get away from my family at all on Sunday to see him. And now my parents had me on lockdown for the entire week since exams were happening. I wasn’t even allowed to work, I was only permitted to go to school to write exams and then I was to head straight home and resume studying for the others.

  I hadn’t given in easily. I thought it was a little strange that my parents were suddenly exercising some discipline now, with only a week left of school. It wasn’t like they cared what I did any other time—really; I hardly ever saw them besides the mandatory Sunday-family-day-Greg-and-Marcy-torture-day. I thought it was even funnier that they actually expected me to go along with their little rules. I was practically eighteen, pretty much on my own with only four more days standing between me and sweet, total, utter freedom. Why the hell would I listen to them now?

  And yet, there I was, walking down the old crumbling sidewalk beneath the large, leafy poplars that lined the quiet residential street. The sun was warm as it shone through the trees; the air was sweet smelling and soft. I walked slowly, smoking, towards my home, my bag full of books and binders. I wasn’t happy about it. I had put up a fight, a good fight at that, but my parents still had won. They played the whole “as long as you’re under my roof” card, and then started ganging up on me, working as a “team” to ensure I knew who was boss. It was possibly the most frustrating hour of my life. I couldn’t wait to be old enough, to do whatever the hell I wanted without having to listen to anyone ever again.

  Just four more days. Four more days. I repeated this to myself. My father just happened to have the whole week off work, so he’d be home now, waiting for me. He had looked at my schedule, he knew when my exam was over, and he knew how long it took for me to walk home. So he would definitely know if I turned right now and headed down towards the restaurant where Grey was working instead. I sighed. As badly as I wanted to screw it all and go see Grey, it was probably smart of me to study. If I ended up having to repeat the twelfth grade I’d … well, I couldn’t even think about it. I had to graduate. I had to go home now. I just hated letting my parents think they’d beat me.

  “Hey Mac.” My dad greeted cheerily when I finally made it home and slammed the front door. “How was your first test of the w
eek?”

  “Fine.” I grumbled. I stormed past him and into the kitchen, dropping my bag loudly to the floor. He seemed oblivious to my attitude and followed me with a grin. His thinning dark hair was rumpled, a shade lighter freed from its usual gelly hair products. In place of his ever-present suit was a pair of dark blue sweatpants and an old ratty sweater. He looked relaxed and happy, clearly enjoying this unexpected time off.

  “Must be exciting. Last week of school … big graduation on Saturday. I can’t even remember my last week of school.”

  “Can’t you?” I was completely disinterested as I threw a Pizza Pop into the microwave and hit start.

  “No. I remember graduation though. I was stylish. Big, plaid bellbottoms. You should’ve seen them.”

  “I have seen them. In pictures.”

  “Oh, right.” He tried again. “So, what are you studying tonight?” He wondered.

  I made a face at him and crossed my arms, glaring at the floor with a shake of my head.

  “Oh, stop being so dramatic.” Dad chuckled. “It’s one week of your life. It won’t kill you to take a break from going out every night, will it?”

  “Maybe.” I shrugged. “I guess we’ll see in the morning.”

  “You know, when Marcy was your age—”

  “Dad.” I had to stop him. There was no way I could keep myself even somewhat rational if he brought up Marcy’s perfection now. I remembered her graduating year; she was the valedictorian of her class, gorgeous, popular, and athletic. I had been young back then, maybe grade eight, and chubby, with aspirations to be just like my big wonderful sister so my mom would cry because she was just so proud of me, too. How things changed. I retrieved my Pizza Pop and slammed the microwave shut. “Spare me dad, will you, please? I don’t want to hear it.”

  Dad sighed. “Fine.” I had finally succeeded in getting the annoying little grin to fall from his face. “I just think she set a pretty good example for you, you know. It wouldn’t hurt to learn a little from her.”

  “Yeah, okay. The next time I want to get engaged to a total dick, I’ll give her a call and get some advice.”

  “Mackenzie.” Dad warned. He shook his head in disapproval. His mouth was set in a grim line.

  “What!”

  “Why …?” he looked at me, like he was completely baffled, and his head shook with incomprehension. “What makes you so angry all the time?”

  “I’m not angry all the time. I just told you, I don’t want to hear that shit.”

  “Watch your mouth young lady. I don’t care how mad you are, you don’t take that tone of voice with me.” He pointed a finger. I sighed. I wasn’t in the mood for round two—me versus them, at the moment.

  “Whatever, sorry.” I rolled my eyes. “Can I go now? I have a lot of studying to do.” My voice dripped sarcasm.

  My dad didn’t answer, just nodded his head and waved me off with a rigid motion of his hand. I grabbed my plate and my bag and huffed past him through the kitchen and up the stairs to my room.

  “Save me. Save me please.” I complained into the phone, lying back on my bed, my legs crossed, my foot kicking the empty air.

  “It can’t be that bad. It’s only for a few more days.” Charlie laughed at my dramatics. “I remember high school, yeah, it’s a complete drag. You’re so close to being done though, just suck it up.”

  “Yeah.” I twirled a lock of hair around my fingers. “So, what have you been up to?”

  “Not much, just work.”

  “How’s that? Do you miss me?” I smiled hopefully. “Has Grey … asked about me?”

  “I told him what was up.”

  “What’d you tell him?”

  “That your parents were holding you hostage and you couldn’t come out. And that you had to go home right after your tests everyday. And that your exams are at the school and you’re finished at 3:15.”

  I laughed. “Wow. Good details.”

  “Thanks. Oh, so, hey, did you see Brad today?”

  “Yeah.” I frowned. “He wouldn’t look at me. He has two huge black eyes though—maybe they were hindering his vision. Like, he got the shit kicked out of him.” I laughed, but a shudder ran through me. I hadn’t forgotten the total violation of his attack. I wondered if I ever would.

  “Serves him right. Stupid bastard.”

  “No doubt.”

  “I’m so glad Grey and Zack were with me. It was Grey’s idea, you know, to go out there. He was so pissed at me for letting you go early, before you two could talk.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. I feel really bad about it actually. I’m really sorry, I didn’t realize Brad would turn out to be such an asshole, I mean, he looked so sweet.”

  “Of course, Charlie. Come on, there’s no way you could’ve known. I didn’t even know. He was sweet. He seemed totally harmless. This was not your fault, at all.”

  “Yeah, well I still feel bad.”

  “Don’t.”

  Charlie sighed. “Anyway … I knew Grey liked you, all along. He just needed a push in the right direction, I guess, hey?”

  “Yeah.” I sighed happily. “Oh, hold on a sec.” A knock on my door interrupted our conversation. “Yes?” I called. The door opened a crack and my dad’s head poked through.

  “Off the phone,” he demanded. “You’re supposed to be studying.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Okay.”

  “I mean it. Off.”

  “Okay, just let me say goodbye.”

  “You have two minutes.”

  “Okay!” I yelled. The door shut and I growled in frustration. “Charlie?”

  “Yeah?” She was giggling.

  “Did you hear that?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What a pain in the ass.” I sighed. “I’ve got to go.”

  “Have fun studying. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Yeah. If I’m allowed.”

  She laughed. “Bye Mac.”

  “Bye.” I slammed the phone down in disgust. I restrained myself from throwing it at the door, barely. The urge was still there. I took a few deep breaths with my eyes closed. I was tense and agitated, I needed something—I craved something to take the edge off my mood. I wanted a smoke, I always did, but even if I found a way to sneak one, I doubted that would be enough. This was a deep belly craving, like my very veins were in need.

  And then I remembered. I sat straight up in bed, my eyes wide at a sudden thought. Could I really do that? Here? Would I get caught? I bit my lip and looked at the door. There was no lock on my knob, my parents’ policy on “no locked doors.” I think it was supposed to be a metaphor or something.

  I slid off the bed and retrieved my purse from the corner of my room, hidden beneath some rumpled clothing and CD wrappers. Charlie’s vial was still inside it, I had forgotten to give it back to her on the weekend. Apparently she had forgotten too, or didn’t care; she hadn’t mentioned anything to me. I held the vial in my palm for a moment, my hand still hidden in the bag. The silver canister was cool and heavy, filled with promise. I went over the choice in my head, weighing my options. Cocaine was almost impossible to identify unless someone knew what to look for. Would my dad? For the most part I would seem completely sober to him, maybe just a little jittery. But I was going to be holed up alone in my bedroom all night. There was no way he’d notice.

  Screw it. I needed to get high. I walked to the door and slid my back down it, sitting against it to stop anyone from suddenly entering before I had a chance to hide the evidence. It only took me a few minutes anyway, the lid was off and the white powder up my nose in an instant. I did a couple, then a couple more. The relief was instantaneous, beautiful. I could feel delight creep slowly through my veins, my tension melt and ease away. I sighed and screwed the lid back on, hiding the vial back in the purse and hiding the purse back beneath the clothes. I sat on the bed and tapped my foot. I turned up the music, a little Limp Bizkit. I pushed my studying stuff away and grabbed some nail polish.
<
br />   Visions of Grey danced in my stuttered thoughts. I wanted to be with him so badly. I painted my toes and then did my nails. I took my two grad dress options out of the closet and stared at them, debating. I chose the black one—the one my mom hated—and put the other one away. I tried the dress on, and then paired it with some shoes.

  I stood in front of the mirror, wondering what to do with my hair. I did it up, down, half up, half down. I spun. I put together an outfit for the next day. I picked up some deep red lipstick and painted my lips, staring in the mirror. I practiced some sexy smiles. I took the grad dress off and hung it up. I put some lotion on my legs. I did not study at all.

  CHAPTER 24

  I awoke with no idea when I crashed. My face was stuck to the opened pages of my math textbook; my body was crumpled in an impossible way upon the bed. I blinked at the sunlight that stung my eyes and pulled the textbook from my skin. I knew I hadn’t studied at all, I must not have noticed the books piled on the mattress when I finally stumbled to bed. That explained why I’d just been wearing one.

  A knock on the door made me jump, still on guard even though I had nothing to hide … now. I pushed the dark mess of hair back from my face.

  “Yes?”

  “Mackenzie, you’re going to be late!” My mom’s frantic voice got louder as she opened the door. She was still dressed in her Doctor’s garb from the night before, and she looked dead tired. “I woke you up half an hour ago! What have you been doing?”

  “I don’t know, I fell back asleep.” I straightened myself out; my body was stiff and sore from the awkward position. I yawned and stretched.

  “There’s no time for that.” She checked my clock radio and the frown on her face deepened. “Get dressed; I’ll give you a ride.” Mom headed for the pile of clothes thrown in the corner of my room, the same pile that was currently concealing my secret stash. I panicked.

  “Mom, give me a sec!” I stood from the bed. “I can get dressed on my own.”