His arms tightened around me, his blue eyes were soft and tender as he looked down into my face. “I’ll try. I’ll try to be the best for you.” He promised. “It’s hard though … sometimes … I mean, you are so trusting, and you look at me with such … pride, like I’m this dream come true or something. I know it’s only a matter of time before I do screw up, before I do something to really hurt you … and I can’t … I can’t bear the thought. You think too highly of me, and I’m only going to disappoint you.”
I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t picture any situation that would make me love Grey any less. Even if he had cheated on me, I would be hurt, yes; I’d be heartbroken, yes; but I wouldn’t love him any less. I didn’t know how to convince him that he could never disappoint me, no matter what, that I would love him no matter what. Silently I stroked my fingers slowly down his chest.
He sighed. “Maybe I don’t have to worry. One day you’re going to figure out how beautiful you are, and then I’ll be out of the picture for good.” Grey shrugged. “It’ll be better that way. I’m too selfish to let you go.”
I wanted to argue with him, I sat up to protest, but he stopped me with a shake of his head. A smirk bent his lips as he looked at me, and his blue eyes began to gleam wickedly.
“Until then …,” he pulled me up to him, his strong arms wrapping around me and holding me close. “I’m going to enjoy every minute.”
My smile was glorious as he kissed me.
CHAPTER 39
We awoke the next morning wrapped up in each other and stayed that way for the remainder of the day. The rest of the house was dark and quiet and empty, but in Grey’s room the lights were on, the music blaring, a party taking place on his bed. We didn’t leave it for anything but to answer the door for food delivery. We smoked and got high and did coke and laughed and talked and kissed and made love between the rumpled sheets. It was going down in history as one of the happiest days of my life.
I wore his white button-down shirt, I’d always seen women do it in the movies and now I could see the attraction. It smelt delicious and I loved having something he wore so close to my own skin. Grey lounged in just his boxers, allowing my eyes to feast on his perfect muscular body as we lazed around.
We talked about everything. Simple things like our favourite color and food, TV shows and movies and bands … every new tidbit of information we learned seemed more interesting than the last. Hours went by, our tongues fuelled by cocaine, driven by sheer curiosity and utter fascination. I couldn’t get enough of him, I couldn’t learn enough—I hung on his every word, asking question after question.
He told me things about his childhood that I hadn’t known before. I learned a little about the friends he’d lost touch with and the crazy BMX jumps they used to make, how he broke the same arm on three separate occasions taking those very same jumps. He was an only child and they had lived in the poorer end of the city. He got a paper route and saved up the money he made to purchase his very own Yamaha acoustic guitar from the Sears magazine when he was only seven.
“So, what about your parents?” I wondered carefully. He always failed to mention them; their names hadn’t come up once in all his tales, so I could tell it was a sensitive subject. “What do they do?”
I was sitting cross-legged on the bed, leaning up against the wall, Grey’s white shirt draped over my petite frame as he lay on his side, facing me, his legs tangled up in the blankets. He avoided my gaze a moment, taking a drag of his cigarette and blowing the smoke slowly from his mouth.
“I don’t know where my parents are.” He admitted reluctantly, with a shrug.
“Not at all?” My dark eyes were wide with wonder.
“No. I’ve never known my dad; I don’t think he was ever around. My mom left when I was young. I haven’t heard from her since.”
I bit my lip in empathy, surprised by this new information. “Where did you go … when she left?”
“I stayed with my Grandma,” Grey sighed heavily, like the topic weighed on him. “She was fifty-eight when she took me in, but a far better mother than my mom ever was, from what I can remember.”
“Is your grandma still in the city?” I smiled in an effort to lighten the conversation.
“No.” He grimaced. “She died when I was sixteen.”
“Oh.” I didn’t know what to say. “I’m so sorry, Grey. That’s awful.”
Grey shrugged again. “I didn’t have any other family to live with, so I bounced around the system for awhile. I never stayed in a foster home for more than a few months. I dropped out of high school about the same time, and as soon as I was old enough I moved out here with Alex.”
“But, you didn’t have anyone, at all?” I was horrified by the thought. My family sucked most of the time, but at least I knew they were there. If I did happen to lose my mom and dad, there was always an Auntie Linda and an Uncle Paul, and an Uncle Pat, and a Marcy … I always knew I’d be taken care of by someone. Grey had been so young when he lost his only family, he must have felt so … utterly scared, and alone. My heart broke for him at the thought, stirred by compassion.
“I did okay. It wasn’t that bad.” His coolness almost had me convinced. If I didn’t know him as well as I did, I would’ve missed the slight sadness in his eyes, the tightness in his voice. He was more affected by the past than he let on, but I was willing to let the issue go, for now. He’d already told me so much, and I could tell it’d been hard for him to do so.
I smiled shrewdly and looked for a subject change. “So … what are all those?” I asked then, pointing randomly towards the stacks of crumpled loose-leaf piled and littered upon the desk in the corner of the room. Grey looked up at me in surprise, relieved by the sudden change in topic.
“Paper.” Grey smirked, and I could see him relaxing. “No. It’s music.”
“Music?”
“Yes. Music.” He sighed fondly at me. “Some lyrics, some melody lines, just stuff I’ve written as it comes to me.”
“You wrote all that?” I was amazed. “Can I read them?”
“Uhhhh …,” Grey hesitated, “… I don’t know.”
“Why not? I won’t laugh, I promise.”
“I know you won’t, but ….” He ran a hand through his messy dark hair. “See, I find it hard to … express … myself sometimes. Maybe you’ve noticed.” He chuckled. I nodded; I knew exactly what he was talking about. “But, it’s different with music.” He explained. “It’s like the one place that I can just … be free, you know? I write anything that comes to my head. And some of it’s … pretty embarrassing.”
“Now I want to read them even more.” I pouted.
“Maybe another time, okay?” It was his turn to change the subject. “So, speaking of music … what’s your favourite song, Mackenzie?”
I relented begrudgingly. “Like … ever in the world?”
“Yeah.”
“Um ….” I giggled. “My all time favourite song is probably … Name, by the Goo Goo Dolls.” I shrugged sheepishly.
Grey just grinned at me a moment. “You’re serious?” His smile widened.
“Yes!” I laughed in defence. “And there is nothing wrong with that song. It’s beautiful.”
“Of all the songs in the world, your favourite is Name, by the Goo Goo Dolls.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t believe it.” Grey chuckled, and then he picked up his acoustic guitar. I watched in disbelief as moments later, the sweet, haunting chords of my favourite song were floating in the air, his fingers deftly strumming the notes. He sang to me with his beautiful voice.
I blinked back sudden, happy tears as Grey sang the song, his voice soft and raspy, touching my very heart. His blue eyes smiled at me as he played, seeming to enjoy my reaction to his tune. I couldn’t even help myself … he just … moved me.
“This is one of the first songs I ever learned.” He explained over the music.
“You play so beautifully.” I shook my head in ad
miration. I had never met anyone so talented in all my life. His dreams of making it big weren’t crazy; they were inevitable. Grey finished the song, strumming out the last note so that it rang in the air.
“I love you.” It was nearly bursting out of me; I just had to say it.
“What can I say?” he smirked. “The Goo Goo Dolls, they do it every time.”
I didn’t want to sleep that night. I knew we had only a few precious hours left before he had to leave, and I didn’t want to waste them with unconsciousness. Grey chuckled at me, cuddled up together beneath the blankets, his lips to my ear.
“Go to sleep, Mackenzie.” He nuzzled, his voice low and drowsy.
“I can’t … sleep ….” My eyelids were so heavy; I struggled to keep them open. “It’s like the Aerosmith song … I don’t want to close … my eyes … ‘cause I don’t … want to … miss a thing ….”
When I awoke, it was dark outside but the moon was bright, flooding his bedroom with silvery light filtering through the large window beside the bed. It took me a moment before I realized I was all alone. I stretched my arm out for Grey, but my hand touched empty mattress. My eyes flew open and I sat up, instantly panicked that he had left for the airport already, that I had missed his goodbye and Grey was gone.
“Hey.” His voice calmed me. I turned over and found him sitting in a chair beside the bed. He was dressed and ready to go, but his acoustic guitar sat on his lap. I smiled, bemused, and sat up in the sheets. His gorgeous face was barely visible in the moonlight, but I could see that he was smiling at me.
“I’ve gotta go, but I just … I wanted to play you something first.”
I smiled my answer, and waited.
He started strumming the guitar then, and the rhythm was gentle—not quite a ballad, but not upbeat either. After the sweet, softly picked intro, Grey began to sing.
“Sitting here in the dark, Mackenzie’s next to me.
She’s lying in the moonlight shining silver in the sheets.
And though it pains me so, it’s time for me to go.
I’ve got to leave Mackenzie lying all alone.”
The chords changed, the strumming got stronger as he entered the chorus.
“Mackenzie, I hope you miss me
When I’m gone, when I’m gone.
I gotta go now, but you need to know how
Much you’re loved, how much you’re loved ….”
His voice was beautiful, silky and rough. I sat on the bed, watching and listening to him in utter disbelief. Grey had written me a song, and that would’ve been enough to cause the happy tears that sprang to my eyes, even if he hadn’t said he loved me. Those affectionate words rang in my head and echoed in my heart, swollen with happiness. I smiled at him through my tears.
“That’s all I have so far.” He shrugged, and his smile was bashful.
“That was the most beautiful ….” I shook my head, at a loss for words. I gave up speaking and crawled over the bed to him. I placed my hands gently on his face, looking up into his eyes shining silvery blue in the moonlight. Beautiful. “I will miss you, so much. Every minute.” I whispered. I moved my lips up to his. “I love you.”
He wrapped his arms around me, tight and warm, pulling me close. And his guitar, unheeded, slid to the floor with a noisy lurch.
CHAPTER 40
Grey was gone again. The days resumed themselves much the same as they had before—Charlie and I got as high as we could, went to work, came home, got high, and then went to bed to start it all over again the next morning. The only difference was now I took it much easier, I didn’t go nearly as hard, and I didn’t go out anymore. Grey called me every day. Sometimes he was busy and would just say hi, sometimes he’d have time and we’d spend nearly all night talking on the phone together. It wasn’t a perfect scenario, but it was the best it could be, given the circumstances.
The cocaine helped the time pass, but even that wasn’t as rewarding as it used to be. I still loved it, it still felt amazing, but I noticed I had to do more and more of the drug to get as high as I once did. Also the buzz wasn’t lasting near as long. All of my tips now went towards my drug habit so I could chase down the high I was craving, but it just wasn’t as … satisfying as it used to be.
Before I knew it, the month of August was passing by, the summer heat waning as the days ticked nearer to the end. The leaves on the trees were slowly starting to turn colors, and there was a bite to the wind that one could only associate with the coming of fall. In the blink of an eye, it seemed, the summer had passed, but it had been everything I’d hoped for. Memorable, amazing, fun, exciting and new. I looked forward to September, not only did it mean that Grey would be back, but I would be celebrating my eighteenth birthday in only a matter of weeks. It was so exciting; I was going to party my ass off, I couldn’t wait.
I realized then, when thinking of my birthday, that a day had come and gone without me even noticing it. It was strange to me, since for the last two some odd years I had set this day as a pivotal landmark in the journey of my life, and my … I should say our … entire future had been centered on it.
I’d missed Riley’s birthday.
It had been a big deal for us, it meant that he’d be able to score us booze and cigarettes whenever we wanted … really, nothing is more depressing that not being of age. Nothing is more humbling that begging anybody older than eighteen, mostly strangers, to boot smokes for you. I’d really hit the jackpot with all my older friends now, it was no problem to get hooked up with anything I wanted, but at the time, back then, Riley turning eighteen was a huge climb up the ladder of our social lives.
I hadn’t really thought about Riley since the night his voice had abruptly entered my mind. Sometimes it was inevitable, if we were driving past his house or if I saw something that reminded me of him, his face would flash before my eyes. But I wouldn’t let myself dwell on him; I’d push the image away, ignoring it as best I could. Now, carefully, I allowed myself a brief instant to wonder what Riley was doing, who he was doing it with, if he were really happy, and if he’d found what he’d been looking for.
I wondered if he ever thought of me. Or if he’d forgotten all about me.
The sadness bubbled up in me again, like Riley had just left, the pain fresh and raw. I remembered then why I was forbidden to think about him. I couldn’t let my guard down, even a little bit, or I’d be crippled by the gnawing ache. I missed him. As much as I wanted to deny it, as badly as I wanted those feelings to go away, to just disappear, I missed Riley with all of my being. And there was nothing I could do but push it away, bury it down deep, and pretend it didn’t exist.
Just like I was doing with my parents. I hadn’t seen or spoken to them since Marcy’s wedding. I wouldn’t even dream of heading over there for Sunday supper, though I wasn’t sure the invitation still stood. I had a feeling I wasn’t exactly welcome over there anymore, at least, not for a while. Mom had left a message on my phone about picking up the stuff I’d left at the hotel, but remembering the furious looks on the faces of my family members when I left the wedding, I figured I’d just leave it for now. I wasn’t in the mood for a lecture, but knew I had one coming.
It was nice to be free of them. About this time last year they’d been bugging me about school supplies and class registrations and college applications. As happy as I was that they were off my back now, it felt strange not to be preparing for the start of school. The first few days back had always been a bit exciting, seeing everyone you missed over the summer, catching up with them, showing off how much weight you’d lost and how much you’d matured in the few months spent apart. That feeling of excitement was still in the air, I could sense it—I think it had something to do with the changing of the seasons. But it was all the more exciting to me knowing I didn’t have to go back.
Somehow—I don’t know, a miracle from heaven maybe—I had actually graduated high school. My real diploma came in the mail one day, and my transcripts showed that I had passed eve
ry class, though just barely. I hung the paper happily on the fridge, my ticket to freedom, the approval I needed to keep enjoying my life just the way it was.
And it was awesome. I loved being on my own, doing my own thing, taking care of myself. I loved my new friends and my boyfriend and partying with them and just living for a good time. I was young, and invincible, and there wasn’t anything I was going to miss out on. The summer may’ve been gone, but the rest of my life stretched on before me, limitless in its potential, budding with possibilities.
I had only to seize them, to make them happen.
CHAPTER 41
My birthday was in less than a week. I was sorting through the mail, looking for the card that my Grandma sent me every year. I knew there’d be a twenty-five dollar check inside, which I could put to good use, right up my nose. I found the large, square envelope covered in shaky, light cursive and held it up triumphantly. Happy birthday to me. I ripped open the envelope and briefly scanned the rhyming poem inside the card. My Grandma continued to pick out birthday cards meant for little girls, covered with balloons and puppies and dolls, but I didn’t mind. I set the card on the counter, displaying it proudly, and pocketed the check from inside.
Then I spotted another envelope addressed to me, one I didn’t recognize at all. It was thick and plain white. Curiously I ripped it open.
Inside there was a narrow blue folder covered in pictures and a single piece of folded paper. I opened up the sheet, instantly recognizing Grey’s inky scrawl spread across the page. Hastily I read his written words.
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