Life of the Party

by Christine Anderson

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t know how to explain it. I’ve just had this … this nagging feeling of, of dread for you lately. I know that sounds lame, but I do.”

  “You’re really that worried?”

  “Yeah. I don’t try to be, but I just can’t help it.”

  “Riley, I can take care of myself.” I rolled my eyes. “Honestly. I’m fine.”

  “I know, I just …. Just promise me that you’ll be careful, okay? It would set my mind at ease, just knowing that you’ll try.”

  “Okay, fine.” I sighed. “I promise I’ll be careful. Okay?”

  “Okay.” Riley still sounded doubtful. I didn’t know what else to do for him, how else to alleviate this totally unfounded concern. He sighed heavily, like he was unsatisfied, like my promise really hadn’t eased his mind like he thought it would.

  “Well, I should go. I’m supposed to be meeting Emily.”

  “Okay.”

  “But it was nice to talk to you.”

  “Yeah, you too. Hey, Riley?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I could never forget about you, either.”

  I could hear the smile in his voice. “Bye, Mac.”

  “Bye.”

  When I hung up the phone, I was happy. I sighed contentedly, lay back against the pillows and lit another cigarette, going over our conversation in my mind. But the longer I sat by myself in the dimly lit hotel room, thinking of it, thinking of Riley—the lonelier I became. His warm, familiar voice faded from my ears, leaving me empty, hollow, alone. Suddenly I felt all the hurt and heartsickness I’d managed to avoid all summer, the throbbing pain of missing Riley that I could no longer ignore.

  It was like the emotion was intensified from all my months of pretending it didn’t exist, like it had strengthened itself, somehow, pushed away in the farthest places of my mind. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to fill the empty void within me, and it felt like I couldn’t breathe. I missed Riley so much, it physically hurt.

  I had to see him. That was it, all there was to it. I knew I wouldn’t feel better until I was with him again. I got up off the bed and paced, frantically shoving things into my bag, all the while making hasty plans in my head. I would get a taxi to the nearest airport, and catch the soonest flight and then call when I got there and then … and then ….

  And then what? I forced myself to stop, to take a breath and think somewhat rationally. What would I do? Hang out with Riley and (shudder) Emily? What would it change? It wouldn’t be the same, not like it had been, just because I missed him. Riley had Emily. They were together. There was no room in his life for me, not now.

  I was being ridiculous. There was no way I could leave. I sat on the bed, resigned. I had Grey now, there was no reason I should feel such loneliness. And yet, it seemed like I was eight again and away at camp, homesick and sad, lonely and aching for home. The feeling was unsettling, unnerving.

  I ran my hands up into my hair in frustration. All the walls I had managed to build to save myself from this pain had been torn down by Riley’s phone call. The realization angered me. Why did Riley have to call at all? Why couldn’t he just leave me alone, leave me in the relative peace that I had cultivated for myself? Why did he have to call and drudge up all the old feelings again?

  I needed to stick with my original plan. I needed to forget about Riley McIntyre. And for that, I needed drugs. I left my half-packed suitcase on the bed and began to scrounge desperately, opening drawers and banging shut the cabinets, searching for something, anything to help and numb the pain. I found chalky mirrors and rolling papers and all the paraphernalia associated with them, but there were no actual drugs to help me. At that point, I would’ve taken anything, Nyquil, Tylenol Three … something, anything to take the edge off, to ease the frantic pounding of my broken heart.

  It was as if he read my mind. The door to the hotel room opened and Grey swept in, his handsome face brilliant as he smirked at me, his blue eyes alight with excitement. The entire room seemed to brighten as soon as he entered it, just his presence helped alleviate my sadness, and I smiled back at him, relieved.

  “I’m so glad you’re back.” I threw my arms around him as soon as I was near enough. Grey hugged me and chuckled into my hair.

  “Me too.” He kissed my forehead. “And, I have a surprise for you.”

  “You do?” Desperately I hoped it was some kind of drug. “What is it?”

  “You have to shut your eyes.” He instructed. “Here, sit down.”

  I did as I was told; keeping my eyes shut even when I felt Grey’s weight sinking onto the bed next to me. He put something into my hand then, something small and plastic.

  “Okay, you can open them.”

  I blinked for a minute, staring down at the little baggie sitting in my palm. It was full of whitish-brown powdery crystals, like dirty snow or beach sand. I smiled excitedly. “Is this some kind of cocaine?” I wondered eagerly.

  “No. This stuff is called China White.”

  “China White?” I had never heard of it before.

  “Yeah. Heroin.” Grey stated casually. I looked up at him in surprise, and he just smiled back at me, like it was no big deal.

  “Heroin?” My eyes lit up with curiosity. “Like, real heroin?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Have you done it before?”

  “Yeah, a few times. The guys at the studio do it now and then, they hooked us up.” He grinned. “It’s good, Mackenzie. You’ll like it.”

  “What does it feel like?”

  Grey’s blue eyes gleamed fondly. “It’s like … I don’t know … it just feels so good. I don’t even know how to describe it. Like warm, and totally relaxed, and just … heavy. I don’t know, I’m not doing it justice, but trust me, after this, you won’t care that your license is missing. You won’t have a care in the world.”

  I grinned eagerly, and nodded. It sounded perfect, just what I needed. Something that would take it all away. “Okay.” I handed him the baggie back and my stomach churned in anticipation, sending thrilling tingles throughout me.

  “The good thing about this stuff,” Grey explained as he pulled out a mirror from the bedside table. “Is that you don’t have to inject it. You can sniff it, just like coke.”

  “You have to inject the other stuff?” I asked with horror, subconsciously covering my elbow pit with my hand. I made a face.

  Grey chuckled at me. “Yeah. Why? Don’t tell me you’re afraid of needles.”

  “Afraid doesn’t begin to describe it. Petrified, maybe. Terrified, even.”

  “This coming from a girl who can do a shot of Appleton rum with barely a grimace.” He looked up at me fondly, amused. “Wonders never cease.”

  I shrugged, watching as Grey divided the dirty powder into two lines for us. I lit a smoke and tapped my hands against my jeans, anxious and eager. I honestly didn’t know enough about heroin to even think of the consequences like I usually did. It had always been some far off legend, something people did in the city—apart from us, removed. Even if I had known more about it, more than just how good it seemed, the drugs were too alluring, the high too enticing for me to even consider not doing it. There was no turning back now. Soon, the pain I felt for Riley would be only a distant memory. I couldn’t wait.

  “You have to be careful with this shit.” Grey was saying. “You can’t do too much. It’s really easy to OD, even easier than coke. Just take a little to start, and see how you handle it.”

  “Okay.” I nodded excitedly.

  “This one’s for you.” He pointed to the smaller of the two lines on the mirror and then handed me a straw. I grabbed it from his hand and took a deep breath. “Okay.” I repeated.

  “Mackenzie?”

  “Yes?”

  “Happy birthday.” Grey smirked. I giggled at him, nearly giddy, and leaned towards him over the mirror so we could share a brief, happy kiss. Then, tremulous and excited, unable to wait for another second, I bent down over
the glass with the straw gripped tightly within my shaky fingers.

  As I did so, there was a brief flash in my mind. I saw Riley’s face, and he was shaking his head at me, as if willing me, pleading for me not to do this. I heard his voice again. “… Promise me that you’ll be careful, okay? Please?”

  I shook the image away and bent down to my task, even more determined now.

  Screw you, Riley. You never should have left me.

  I chased the line quickly, impatiently almost. The heroin shot up my nose, smoother than the cocaine—like it was softer, somehow. I felt it hit my nostrils, felt the sweet burn radiate from deep within my sinuses.

  And nothing was ever the same.

  CHAPTER 44

  I was actually disappointed at first, like I’d been expecting my brain to explode from a mind-ravaging high or something. Grey did his line and then we lit a smoke, leaned back against the headboard and just … waited for it to hit. Grey flipped on the TV, and we laughed together as the UFC slowly warmed into view. I still didn’t feel anything. I thought maybe the line Grey made for me had been too small. But then, I began to notice it.

  It started small; I could feel it creeping up on me—slowly, building in intensity. I reached down for Grey’s hand and laced my fingers through his, glad that he was with me, happy to be sharing this with him. He turned over towards me and propped his head on his hand, studying my face, his blue eyes eager as they swept me over.

  “I want to watch” He smirked. “I want to know the moment you feel it.”

  I nodded, but I suddenly found it hard to speak. Wave after wave of warmth was crashing over me—blissful heat, the perfect temperature, pouring all over my body—loosening my muscles until they felt weak and heavy, beyond the point of relaxed. I couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment it hit me, I just knew I felt it, and it seemed like I’d been feeling that way forever. I melted back against the bed, unbelievably tranquil, overwhelmingly comfortable, like I was snuggled on a cloud of the softest, warmest air. Nothing mattered then, just like he’d said. Not Riley, not the pain. Nothing but how good I felt.

  Grey was kissing me, his lips brushing over my face. I tried to smile for him.

  “It’s good, isn’t it?” His voice was low in my ear.

  “Yes.” I couldn’t raise my voice above a whisper. I nodded weakly. “Yes ….”

  Time passed. I had no idea how much time, but it felt like ages. We didn’t talk much. There wasn’t much to say. I was perfectly content just to lay there, to let the warmth have its way, to shut my eyes and let my body soften, like butter, against the mattress in total, euphoric apathy. I didn’t have a care in the world. There wasn’t one thought that could interfere, not one emotion that could penetrate the heroin’s silky embrace, the velvety soft blanket that was draped over me. It was like heaven.

  But then I felt something else. I felt sick. My eyes fluttered open as my stomach twisted with a sudden surge of nausea, and I knew I was going to throw up.

  “Grey?” I forced myself out of the bed, amazed I even had the strength to stand. I clutched my stomach as it lurched and hurried towards the bathroom.

  “It’s okay,” Grey called to me from the bed. He could barely open his eyes. “You’ll feel better … after ….”

  I barely made it to the toilet. My body heaved as I retched, trying to purge the poison from my system, emptying my insides over and over again. Even the vomiting felt good though, in its own way. When the tremors finally receded I collapsed on the cold tile of the bathroom floor, sweaty, shivering from the effort as the racking nausea faded at last.

  “Hey, Mackenzie, you okay?” Grey leaned heavily against the door.

  I nodded in response, but couldn’t bring myself to move. He came and helped me up off the floor. I was weak and shaky, but I still felt amazing—not as high as I had been, but weighty and sedated, heavy and warm. We crawled back into the bed. Everything felt so right again, so perfect … the temperature of the room, the soft mattress beneath me. The sickness was completely forgotten. I lit a cigarette and smoked it slowly, then lit another, and another. Perfectly happy. Perfectly content.

  Cocaine didn’t last me fifteen minutes. This high lasted for hours, like a long, languid bath that never ended; full of warm, fragrant water that never cooled.

  Heroin was it. A contented smile curved my lips. This was what I’d been looking for, all along, the secret I knew the world had been keeping from me. I turned to Grey, who was nodding off beside me, nearly overcome by the euphoric surge of love I felt for him, the total gratitude for sharing with me this pleasure, this secret. He had found for me something I didn’t know was missing.

  And suddenly couldn’t live without.

  When I awoke the next morning, my first thought was of heroin. The depth that I longed for it actually kind of scared me. Logically, the sheer intensity of my craving should’ve been enough to keep me from ever doing it again. I needed more though. I could feel the loneliness again, creeping on the edges of my mind. Once we awoke, groggy and irritable from the lack of sleep and the night spent tossing and turning in an itchy, uncomfortably hot slumber, Grey made some more lines from the dope left over and I snorted it back without a second thought.

  This time it hit me in the elevator. Grey was taking me somewhere, I didn’t know where, but we were up and dressed and out the door when I felt the creeping waves descending and smiled knowingly at Grey, shutting my eyes and letting them have me. He led me, blissfully numb and euphoric, through the lobby of the hotel and into the awaiting cab. Everything after that was a perfect, hazy blur. I can remember how good Grey’s warm hand felt in mine … how the grey, dismal colors over the dreary, rainy city were beautiful to my eye … how the cold, brisk breeze couldn’t touch me, how … how amazing it felt to be so content, so utterly satisfied and comfortable.

  Grey took me to the studio. I was pleasantly surprised when we pulled up in front of the red brick building, even more so when I discovered that all the guys were there, the whole band, recording away. It was really good to see them after so long. I sat on one of the black leather couches that stretched the length of the room and nodded in and out of the conversation, a soft, joyous smile on my face as the guys talked and laughed and filled the room with a happy buzzing din—the perfect background noise to accompany the peaceful quiet of my mind. It didn’t escape my notice that some of my friends were nodding off as well, on heroin—and I felt so united with them, so in tune, closer to them that I’ve ever felt before. The only person I couldn’t have cared less about was Zack, but he proved easy to ignore. Most of the time he was up in the sound booth, wailing away on his guitar.

  Everyone took a turn recording their individual instruments to the same song. I had no idea that’s how records were made. I thought they all played as a band, at once, together. After Zack, Alex got up and played on his drums. The two guys working the soundboard were Steve and Mike, and though I had just met them, they were my new best friends as far as I was concerned. They tried to show me some things but I was really too high to pay much attention.

  But then Grey got up to sing. The moment his beautiful, husky low voice hit my ears I sat up, totally aware, and then stood so I could watch him. Grey smirked when he noticed me, his blue eyes intent—he didn’t seem to care at all that I was watching him. His voice draped over me as he sang, melting my heart, making my breath catch in my throat, stealing my very soul with the impossible beauty and the glorious sweetness of his voice.

  I bit my lip and let the radiating love I felt for him fill me to the point of tears. I mouthed it to him through the glass. I love you, Grey. I love you.

  It was over all too soon. Before I knew it, before it seemed possible, we had to leave so I would make my flight back home. I held Grey’s hand as tight as I could, reluctant to let him go for even a second, knowing we’d be separated by hundreds of miles in just a few short, precious hours. We went back to the hotel first and I packed my things quickly so as not to waste a moment. Grey
sat back on the bed and watched while I ran around the room, collecting my clothes and make-up and jewellery and hurriedly shoving them into my bag, which was already half-haphazardly packed from my Riley panic the night before.

  When I was done, he pulled me down onto his lap, wrapping his strong, warm arms around me. I melted against him, shutting my eyes and breathing deeply the delicious smell that emanated from the warm base of his throat.

  “So, Mackenzie,” his voice was low in my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “Did you have a good birthday?”

  “mmm … only the best.” I nodded. “Thank you, Grey. This was the greatest present ever.”

  “I can agree with that.” He smirked and bent down to kiss me. I wove my fingers through his short, messy dark hair and kissed him like it was our last.

  “I don’t want to go.” I admitted, as he pulled away. “I don’t want to leave you.”

  “Yeah, but if all goes well, it’ll only be another week. Maybe two, tops.”

  I nodded glumly. “Yeah.”

  We sat together in silence for a moment. I could practically hear the seconds ticking down to the inevitable moment when I would have to leave him. I sighed miserably. The heroin high was all but over … the warmth had faded away and a heavy weariness was settling in my bones, a dull achiness replacing the blissful heat that had inhabited my muscles, a pang of sudden loneliness taking place of the contented happiness I’d felt all day.

  “Hey, don’t be sad.” Grey brushed the hair back from my face. As if reading my mind, his eyes gleamed down at me as he pulled a little baggie out of his pocket. “How about a hit for the road? It’ll make this whole parting thing easier.”

  “You know me too well,” I grinned, “I’m going to need all the help I can get.”

  “Well, you’re not the only one.” He smiled. “But no more after this. This shit is way too easy to get hooked on to do every day.”

  “But, we can still do it like, every once in awhile, can’t we?”