Life of the Party (23 page)

“Really?”
Charlie eyed me worriedly. “We shouldn’t just take her in? They
can’t tell that she did coke unless they do a pee or a blood
test.”

“Please,
Charlie. I don’t want to go there.” I didn’t want to acknowledge
what had happened, what had almost happened. I just wanted to put
the whole unpleasant incident behind me. “They’ll make me go to the
police.”

“Are you sure
Mac? If anything happens to you I’ll feel even more terrible.”

“I’m sure.
Honest. I’m fine.” I lied. My very bones seemed to ache in places
and I felt weak all over. “I’ll be fine. Can we just forget about
it, please?”

“Forget about
it? Mac, he could have hurt you! He almost—”

“I know. I
know.” I shook my head. “But he didn’t. I’m fine, really. It’s no
big thing.”

“You’re better
off than he is, anyway.” Zack chuckled darkly. “By the time we
finished with him.”

“Is he very
hurt?” I wondered. I grimaced and looked up at Grey.

“He got what he
deserved.” Grey admitted. He looked down at the backs of his hands,
bruised from the fight; his knuckles were scraped and bleeding. He
shrugged. “Don’t worry about that asshole.”

I wasn’t
worried. But I was … regretful. I couldn’t believe what had
happened. The change that came over Brad had been … disturbing. I
remembered the mad, eerie light in his eyes as he glowered over me,
the aggression that drove his hands, his wet mouth hard upon my
skin. I shuddered involuntarily.

Grey noticed.
Wordlessly he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and drew me near,
pressing me close against his hard chest. I lay against him and
fought off the tears that threatened to spill, tears of trauma and
tears of relief. My throat ached. Charlie switched off the interior
light and started the car. We pulled out of the parking lot and
onto the highway.

Grey’s hands
rubbed my back soothingly, his fingers stroked though my hair. He
didn’t let go of me once the entire trip.

We were all a
bit more subdued than normal. Zack and Charlie were at the counter
island in the middle of her kitchen, playing a game of crib,
dealing cards in between snorting lines. I was laying on the faded
old couch in the living room, oblivious to the
South Park
episode playing on the TV; waiting for the joint I’d just smoked to
help alleviate the fearsome pounding in my head. Grey was sitting
in the easy chair not far from me, silent and pensive, his face
tight as he stared at the television set.

I blinked
slowly, seeing nothing, thinking about boys. Were they all so
cruel, so callous and mean? First Riley had totally abandoned me,
his best friend, with seemingly no good explanation except the
sudden desire to completely change his life and leave all the old
behind. So he’d left me behind, and that had hurt me, deeply. Then
Brad had tricked me, preying on my vulnerability and my desperation
for a friend, leading me to believe he really liked me when all he
wanted was to get some at the end of the night. He’d hurt me, he’d
viciously attacked me, and though my bruises would heal on the
outside, inside I’d always carry the scar of his betrayal.

I shuddered at
the thought. I couldn’t keep from remembering the images and sounds
and feelings of Brad’s assault. I still smelt like campfire, and
the smell reminded me sharply of the evening, of sitting by Brad
and drinking and laughing and thinking about how much I liked him
as a friend, how much fun we were having together.

I shut my eyes
drowsily, hoping for sleep, desperate to forget it all in the
relative peace of my subconscious.

“Mackenzie,
Mackenzie, wake up,” Grey shook me on the shoulder lightly, but it
still sent a throb of pain racing down my arm. I moaned and opened
my eyes, looking directly into his face, rigid with concern as he
crouched before me, hovering; his blue eyes avid with worry. “Try
not to go to sleep, okay? For a little longer?”

Ah, yes. And
then there was Grey. Was it possible that he was the cruellest of
all? How easily he’d made me love him, with his wit and his charm
and his good looks and his talent. He’d trailed me along, making me
believe I had a chance, making me delight in the connection I
thought I’d found … the hope that we could be something together.
But then he’d rejected me—brutally, and ignored me for weeks, like
I truly was nothing to him. Now, the deep concern for me written in
every worry line on his handsome face was the most confusing of
all. The meanest thing he could have done after everything we’d
been through was care. And the regret in his eyes, the anxiety in
his features told me that he did, that he cared more for me than I
could ever have imagined. How badly I wanted to believe it, to
believe him. How badly I wanted to hope. But I couldn’t, I wouldn’t
let myself. I’d only be setting myself up for more hurt.

And my heart
couldn’t handle much more.

“I want to go
home.” I whispered to him.

Gently, Grey
brushed the hair out of my face. “You do?”

I nodded as
gingerly as I could to try and spare my aches and pains. “Yes.”

“I’ll get
Charlie to give you a ride.”

“No.” I
protested. “I want to walk.”

“I’ll go with
you then.”

“No, you don’t
have—”

“I’m coming
with you.” He insisted. The look he gave me was stern. Resignedly,
I nodded, and then painfully pulled myself up into a sitting
position. His hands were warm and gentle as he helped me get to my
feet.

“I’m going to
take Mackenzie home,” he announced to our friends.

Charlie
frowned. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? Mac, I don’t know if you
should sleep, after hitting your head so hard.”

“Her pupils are
fine,” Zack decided then, after a studied look into my eyes. “And
it’s been a few hours already. If she had a concussion or
something, we’d know it by now.”

“How do you
know all this stuff?” I wondered weakly, made a little
uncomfortable by his penetrating gaze.

Zack shrugged.
“For a while there, I wanted to be a paramedic. Lucky for you,
hey?” He grinned. “You should be fine, but if anything changes,
like you can’t see or you’re dizzy and throwing up and stuff, don’t
be an idiot. Go to the hospital.”

“Thanks
Zack.”

Charlie gave me
a hug then. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay? Are you really sure
you’re fine?”

I nodded
gingerly. “Yeah. I just want to go and sleep.”

“Okay.” She
looked pleadingly over at Grey. “Take care of her, will you?”

He nodded, and
his words seemed to be weighted with meaning.

“I will.”

The air was
still warm outside, but I couldn’t keep a shiver from running up my
spine as we stepped onto the sidewalk. I wrapped my arms around
myself and stared down at the ground, trying to seem oblivious—but
painfully aware of the footsteps beside mine, the silent presence
so close to my side. Grey and I walked quietly a few moments,
listening to the wind in the trees, the sounds of our shoes on the
cement. With every step the air seemed thicker with something …
with nerves and frustration, with unspoken … impatience,
almost.

Finally, Grey
cleared his throat. He seemed uncomfortable beside me, fidgety. His
jaw tensed a few times, and he opened his mouth to speak, but no
words came out.

“I’m not very
good at this.” He suddenly blurted, running a hand through his
thick mess of dark hair.

I didn’t say
anything, only looked over and waited for him to continue.

“I owe you an
apology, Mackenzie. An explanation at the very least.”

I nodded.

“I … uh ….” He
looked over at me. “… Does your head still hurt?”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?
What about your—”

“I’m fine
Grey.” I nearly snapped.

“I’m sorry.” He
breathed deeply, and he looked at me again, his blue eyes full of
warmth and sincerity. But then he shook his head and fell
silent.

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.

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.