Life of the Party

by Christine Anderson

  The songs were good, but he made them better. The whole band really made the show, but I couldn’t look at any of the others. My eyes were only for Grey. Charlie was standing next to her chair, at times she would jump and cheer and wave her arms in the air with the rest of the crowd. But I could merely stare—stare and fall madly, impossibly more in love with Grey at each strum of his guitar strings. My heart belonged to him and no one else.

  The ecstasy was hitting me with full force. I nearly staggered with delight as waves of euphoria crashed sweetly over me. I wanted to dance and run and yell with pleasure, but instead I stood and smiled, smiled up at the man I loved, pouring into my smile all the joy that overflowed from somewhere deep inside of me. As if I was beckoning him, Grey turned suddenly, and he looked around until he found me, and then our eyes locked. His beautiful blue eyes met mine with such force that I couldn’t breathe. It was as if he were seeing into my soul, his gaze was so intense, so powerful. We stared at each other, and I tried to pour into my expression everything I was feeling. How he was making me feel, what I felt for him, what I would do for him. I don’t know what Grey saw there reflected in my face, but his lips curved into a smile—his sexy smirk, and then he turned away from me, singing into the mike. He hadn’t missed a beat; I doubt our moment lasted as long as it felt. But I was trembling.

  The rest of the set was a blur; I don’t even know how much longer it lasted. I was seeing lights before my eyes and had to sit to keep from falling over. There was a cigarette non-stop between my fingers and my legs shook with pent-up energy. The ecstasy was intense, perhaps strengthened by the sheer force of my emotions. Or it could’ve been the steady diet of booze and blow I’d survived on for the last twenty-four hours … or maybe because I really couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten. Whatever the reason for the intensity, I just focused on Grey as much as I could, a smile still bending my lips even as my teeth chattered uncontrollably.

  “Whooooo!” Charlie screamed again, turning away from the stage as the lights finally dimmed and the guys made their way off through the curtains. She faced me and smiled.

  “Wasn’t that wicked? Whooo!”

  “Awesome.” I agreed wholeheartedly. “Totally awesome.” The house music started up again now that the band was done, Destiny’s Child, Survivor. The beat made me want to dance. I tapped my feet impatiently underneath the table.

  “This hitting you yet?” Charlie wondered. Her pupils were as big as saucers even in the dim lights.

  “Um … I would say … yeah ….” I giggled and trembled. I grit my teeth. “Are my eyes as big as yours?”

  “Uh … hard to say … let me take a look at my own eyes and I’ll let you know.” She stuck her tongue out at me and laughed. I giggled with her, almost hysterically, totally giddy. “They are pretty huge though,” she continued, “and your eyes are so dark anyway, now they look almost black.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  I laughed. “Do I look like a freak?”

  “No. It’s sexy. Just don’t look the bouncers or bartenders right in the eyes, though. That always tips them off.”

  “Oh, okay.” I would try to remember that.

  “You wanna get a drink? I think the waitress is coming around now that the guys are done.”

  “Yeah. A rye-Coke.” I decided. I vaguely remembered the night I had come to the Aurora with Riley, when he made me promise not to drink anything since I was on ecstasy. I shrugged the dim memory off. Riley could go screw himself. Charlie ordered our drinks and I lit a cigarette. If Riley really cared, he wouldn’t be moving away forever without even telling me. He’d be here, with me, telling me not to drink.

  “So what do we do now?” I wondered, as our drinks were set before us on the round black table. Charlie swept hers up immediately and took a sip.

  “I feel like dancing.” She decided suddenly, her eyes lit up. I nodded my head at her perfect idea.

  “Me too!” I smiled excitedly and grabbed my jug of rye and Coke. “Let’s go.”

  “Let’s do it.” She grinned and stood gracefully from the stool. I let her go in front since she had more experience pushing her way through the impossible maze of tightly packed people. Finally we made it, bursting into the only small open space available on the dance floor. It was ours though, and we made use of it. Charlie was a good dancer; she was a ton of fun to be with, totally confident. The smile never left my lips as we danced, and smoked, and drank our way into near oblivion.

  “Here you guys are!”

  “Zack!” Charlie exclaimed at the sound of his voice. She smiled and went to him, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him enthusiastically. He chuckled in response. I wondered how much of this show was for the other girls surrounding the dance floor, kind of a personal “hands off” message from Charlie. I laughed.

  “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” He grasped Charlie’s hand and motioned for me to follow them. I nodded and took Charlie’s other hand which she outstretched to me. Together the three of us wound our way through the crowded club until we made it to the VIP section in the back. It was so much different stepping through the door this time, now I knew nearly everyone in the room except for new random groupies. I smiled at everyone I saw.

  Natasha, Tracy and Lori had taken the beat up leather couch in the center of the room—they looked generally happier than they had the other night. I still didn’t know who they belonged to. Tom was leaning against the wall in a thick leather coat talking to two other men about his age. He nodded at me. Lucas and Jimmy were settled at the bar with girls surrounding them on either side. They clinked some shots together and then threw them back to the delight of all the women.

  I followed Charlie and Zack, but I was looking only for Grey. In my mid-alcohol-ecstasy haze I suddenly wondered if he were even real. What if I had imagined him? Really, could that much perfection really exist?

  Yes, it could. I watched then as Grey and Alex stepped out of the little back room that adjoined the VIP section. I knew now—because I knew them—that they’d been doing blow back there. Like they probably had been the first night I came.

  I shook my hair back and suddenly wished for a mirror. I had been dancing and sweating, I hoped my make-up hadn’t melted off.

  “Charlie.” I whisper-hissed at her. I couldn’t take my eyes off Grey. “Do I look okay?”

  She turned and gave me a discreet once over. Then a smile crept over her lips. “You look fucking hot, Mackenzie. Go knock him dead.”

  I laughed at her. “Did I mention I love you?”

  “Go.” She smiled and gave me a little push. Grey and Alex were now in the center of the room, around the group of people settled on the thin leather couches and chairs. He hadn’t noticed me yet, or maybe he had and was ignoring me. Either way, I didn’t want to go right to him. I brushed my hair back and walked towards the bar, conscious of my tight fitting black dress, the tall leather boots that hugged my calves. I hoped Charlie had been telling the truth. I wanted to be hot; I wanted Grey to want me.

  I ordered a drink, sudden butterflies in my stomach. The waitress plunked the rye and Coke before me. I thanked her and took a sip. I knew the moment I turned to look behind me that Grey and I would see each other, but the anticipation was like a drug. I took a deep breath, lit a smoke, and finally turned around, leaning my back on the bar.

  It was instant. I could feel his eyes on me before I met them. Grey’s gorgeous face was caught in an expression of amazement that betrayed his normal cool. His blue eyes were wide, his mouth open slightly. I delighted in his reaction and watched as his gaze swept over my body, slowly, as if he were savouring every moment. My pulse began to beat rapidly, even faster than before. I bit my lip and looked at him, met his eyes when at last they returned to my face. He had composed himself by then, his expression slipping easily back into the calm, collected Grey that he showed everyone. But it was too late; I already knew the effect I had on him. I had seen the eviden
ce in his face.

  I smiled gloriously and took a drag of my cigarette.

  “Hey, Mackenzie, right? Can I have one of those?” Jimmy disrupted our moment, shouting at me from his spot just down the bar. I turned my smile to the young faux-hawked man.

  “Of course.” I nodded, slowly letting my eyes slip from Grey’s gaze. I walked down the bar and handed Jimmy a cigarette.

  “I ran out.” He explained.

  “Sure.” I turned to look back at Grey. He had moved as well, almost mimicking my movement, so we were in the same proximity as before, just in different places in the room. Our eyes met and a slow smirk lifted the corner of his mouth. I grinned.

  This continued throughout the evening. Slowly we moved around the room, finding some excuse to keep from actually meeting, staring at each other whenever we had the opportunity. It was like a bizarre dance we were doing, and though there was space between us, the heat between us was unreal. The thrill of anticipation.

  Eventually, there were no more excuses, no one else to talk to, nowhere else to stand. Just Grey and I, coming slowly together as if it were the most natural movement in the world. We stopped close together, close enough that I could smell his delicious scent, could feel the heat coming off his body. We looked at each other a moment. I could barely breathe.

  “Damn, girl.” He looked down into my eyes and chuckled. I knew he was referring to my wide, black pupils. I shrugged without looking away. Then, wordlessly, his hand slid down my arm, from my elbow to my hand. I shivered at his touch. He took my hand in his and gently pulled me from the room.

  We emerged back into the loud, rowdy part of the club. The party was still going strong. I wanted to die with happiness as Grey led me through the clubbers, his hand around mine. All the women that stared at him longingly as we passed would turn in surprise, glaring at me when they realized we were together. But I didn’t care. They could all hate me, I didn’t care. Because I was with Grey.

  Kryptonite by Three Doors Down was playing. We found a space on the dance floor but we didn’t need much room. Grey placed his hands on my hips, pulling me near. I looked up at him as we moved together. He smiled, his lips curving upon his stubbled cheeks, his tanned skin. I pressed my hands against the top of his chest, trailing them slowly down his hard torso, feeling each and every muscle defined beneath my fingertips. I bit my lip and looked up at him, into the full, scorching gaze of his deep blue eyes.

  It took mere moments until we were kissing. He pulled me toward him, burying his hand into the curls at the back of my neck to bring me closer yet. I wrapped my arms around his neck, running my fingers through his hair. We moved together in time to the song, but neither of us was dancing anymore. We kissed feverishly, almost desperately, as the song played through … and the next, and the next …. His hands were on my arms, my back, my hips—scorching my skin through the thin black fabric of my dress as if I were wearing nothing at all. And suddenly I didn’t want to be.

  As if he could read my mind, Grey pulled away, his blue eyes smouldering. I didn’t want him to stop. He took my hand again and wordlessly we left the dance floor. He led me through the crowd, impatient, almost. I didn’t think to wonder where we were going, so long as we continued where we left off. Hastily, we made our way through the partiers into the VIP section, then down the hallway into the little room off the back. I wondered if anyone was staring at us, but I didn’t turn to look.

  The room was empty. There were a few club chairs in a circle and a round coffee table in the middle. A chalky mirror sat on the table. I took all this in with one glance as Grey shut the door behind us. As soon as the lock had been turned, Grey grasped me tightly by the hips with his strong hands and pushed me roughly towards the nearest chair. I fell back willingly, eagerly accepting his weight as it crushed down on me. I wrapped my legs around him and met his lips with just as much intensity.

  His hands felt so good. His hands and his lips and just the hardness of his body as it pressed against mine. I had never felt this way before with any other boy. I had never experienced this level of lust, of complete and utter abandon. I couldn’t think straight anymore, I just wanted all of me to experience all of him. I couldn’t get enough. Swiftly I ripped his shirt off, delighting in the dark, hard muscle of his chest, running my hands down it. Slowly his hands moved from my hips to my waist, and I moaned at the delicious trail of heat they left upon my skin. Desperately I wanted his hands to move up. I arched my back instinctively, pressing my chest against him. Grey made a noise then, like a growl almost, and moved his hand to my breast.

  The moment he touched me I knew I would have sex with him. The thought took me by surprise as I realized we were headed in that exact direction. I wanted it—I did, more than I ever had with anyone else. I’d never done it with any other boy because I’d never felt like this before. I’d never wanted someone so badly. I’d never been in love, real love, like I was with Grey. I welcomed his caresses fervently. I felt his hand on my knee, his fingers trailing fire as the slowly moved up my leg, under my skirt, up my thigh ….

  “I love you. I love you Grey.” I spoke the words before I realized it. They just slipped out. I’d been thinking them, and then suddenly they were on my lips, and I had said them. My eyes opened wide with shock, and I looked at Grey, curious to see how he would react.

  He chuckled. “That’s the ecstasy, sugar.” He kissed me. I laughed as well, kissing him back, relieved that my words hadn’t totally freaked him out. But the sudden pause, however brief, had been enough to clear my head a little.

  I did love Grey, my words had been true, and I would give him everything. Everything, even if he had nothing to give me in return. Suddenly I needed him to know that. It was rash, impulsive and super, super stupid of me, but I desperately wanted to share with Grey everything I was feeling. And I had to act fast, before I stopped thinking altogether ….

  “Wait, wait Grey.” I whispered breathlessly.

  “What?” His voice was husky.

  “I do.” I looked at him, right in the eyes. My heart hammered in my chest; I prayed I wouldn’t lose courage. I placed my hands on either side of his face. “I do love you.”

  “No, you don’t.” He grinned. “That’s just the drug—”

  “No, it’s not the drugs.” I argued. “I felt this way before I took them. I love you.” The more I said it, the easier it became.

  He scoffed and chuckled at me. “What is this, some kind of joke?”

  “No, it’s not a joke.” I sat up slightly. “I’m totally serious. I’m not going to play head games with you or screw you around or anything. I want to be honest with you, always.”

  “You love me?” Grey repeated sceptically. He eyed me warily.

  “Yes. Yes, I love you. I think I have from the first moment ….” I smiled and traced my finger over his lips, slightly parted and tinged red from my lipstick. I glanced up at him hopefully. Grey looked at a complete loss. His eyebrows were furrowed, his jaw was clenched—but his blue eyes were still warm. It looked like he was processing my words, going over them in his head, trying to make sense of them.

  “Can I prove it to you?” I whispered. “Can I show you?” I caressed his cheek with my thumb a moment, and then pulled his face down to mine. Our lips met, and quickly the intensity between us renewed. If anything, Grey became more aggressive, almost like he was in a sudden hurry. Roughly he shoved the skirt of my dress up over my hips; his hands were hard against my skin. I didn’t mind, I would do anything he wanted, but I couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking now. Was it possible that he loved me too? Did this new ardour mean that he shared my feelings? Or were his frenzied kisses simply his way of getting me to shut up?

  I didn’t know, but my heart beat harder as I realized what was about to happen. I was about to have sex, for the first time. With Grey. I wondered briefly if it would hurt, but quickly pushed the thought aside. It didn’t matter. I put my hands to the back of his head and deepened our kiss, twining m
y fingers in his dark, unruly hair. He was everything I’d ever wanted.

  But then, abruptly, Grey pulled away from me. His face was suddenly hard, his jaw clenched. He leaned back from me and glared—long gone was the warmth in his blue eyes. He was breathing heavily. I looked at him with utter confusion, stammering.

  “What—”

  “You love me.” It was a statement, like an accusation, almost. I swallowed and nodded my head, slowly.

  “Yes.” I whispered.

  Grey scoffed. He shook his head and chuckled lowly. His movements became swift and rigid as he pushed himself away from me, snatching his hands away like my flesh was poison. He grabbed his shirt from the floor and whipped it over his head, his muscled torso disappearing beneath the fabric. I could do nothing but watch him, alarmed by the sudden change in his mood, troubled by the obvious agitation with which he now regarded me. Clearly, the feelings I had professed were something Grey did not want to hear. I couldn’t regret my decision to tell him, because every word was true. But I did regret the way he glared at me now. And I wished he felt the same.