Life of the Party (43 page)

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 every 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.

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.

Hey, happy
birthday. I know it’s early, but I wanted to give you your present
now. Your flight leaves Friday at 4:00PM and I’ll be there to pick
you up. You’d better be ready for the best weekend of your life.
See you soon.

Love, Grey.

I read and
reread the letter over and over again, my lips curving into a
smile. Grey and the guys were still at the studio, they’d hoped to
be done already, but hit a snag when some of the songs were erased
or something. Last time we spoke, he had broken the news that they
wouldn’t be back in time for my birthday. I was disappointed—it was
hard not to be, but I tried not to let it bother me. Even though it
wouldn’t be the same, we could celebrate whenever he got back.

Apparently,
that hadn’t been good enough for him. I nearly squealed with
excitement as I pored over the ticket he’d given me, memorizing my
flight times and gate numbers. This was by far the best birthday
present I had ever received. I couldn’t wait to call him, to say
thank you.

But Charlie
came into the kitchen then, still in her pyjamas, obviously hung
over from the night before. I smiled at her cautiously. Things had
been tense between us lately. I think she secretly hated that Grey
and I had reconciled—that he’d been out to see me, that he called
me everyday. The moment she’d heard about the weekend we’d spent
together and the song he wrote for me, her entire attitude towards
me changed, like she resented me now or something. I didn’t go to
the clubs with her anymore, I really didn’t want to, I was content
enough to stay at home and do some coke and wait for Grey to call.
But Charlie went out every night after work and got super wasted,
and sometimes she didn’t even come home. I was worried about her,
but every time I asked what or how she was doing, I almost got my
head bit off.

“Hey, how you
doing?” I wondered politely, causally. Charlie glared at me; her
blue eyes glazed beneath her heavy lids, and opened up the
refrigerator. I tried not to mind her resentment towards me, even
though I really didn’t deserve it. For the most part, I just
tiptoed around her and tried to be understanding and patient. The
drugs helped.

“Where’d you go
last night?” I set her pile of mail on the counter next to her. She
drank some orange juice straight from the container and then wiped
her lips on the sleeve of her housecoat.

“Out.” She
replied. She briefly glanced at her mail and took another swig.

“Was it
fun?”

“Loads.”

“Cool.”

That seemed
like the extent of our conversation, but it was actually an
improvement. We stood in silence for a moment as I opened the rest
of my mail, mostly bills. They were the one downside to living on
my own.

“Oh, how
sweet,” Charlie’s voice was sarcastic as she picked up the birthday
card I’d gotten from my Grandma. “Does this mean you’re going to
come out with me this weekend? To celebrate your eighteenth?” She
seemed to brighten at the thought.

“Um … no,” I
avoided her hopeful gaze. “I’m sorry, I can’t. Uh … Grey sent me a
plane ticket; so I’m going to fly up there for the weekend.” I
braced myself for her reaction; I knew it wasn’t going to be
pretty. I didn’t want to lie to her though.

Her face fell,
her blue eyes narrowing at me. “Oh.”

“But … you
could come with me? I’m sure between the two of us, we can afford
another ticket.”

Charlie
chuckled darkly. “Thanks for the pity invite, Mac. I’d love to come
and be your third wheel for the weekend.” She scoffed. “Please. I’m
not that pathetic.”

“I don’t think
you’re pathetic at all.”

“Whatever. I
can’t come anyway, I’ve got plans.”

“Charlie, come
on. You don’t have plans. Come with me. I don’t like to think of
you sitting here alone, all by yourself for the whole weekend.”

“You worry
about me?” She raised an eyebrow, like she didn’t believe it.

“Yes, I do.” I
admitted.

Charlie
scoffed. “Yeah, right. Do me a favour, Mac. Cut the bullshit, and
just worry about yourself.” She put the juice back in the fridge
and slammed the door shut. The noise made me jump. “Besides, I’m
not going to be alone.” She smiled at me, wickedly, and then
stalked out of the kitchen.

I wanted to ask
her what she meant. I wanted to beg her not to do anything stupid.
But she slammed her bedroom door on my face, just like she had done
in our friendship, effectively keeping me out of it.

“Can I have a
rye and Coke please?” The man next to me requested. I watched as
the flight attendant gave him a little bottle of Crown Royal and a
Coca Cola. Excitement surged in my stomach. In less than
twenty-four hours, I would legally be able to do the same
thing.

I sighed and
leaned back against my seat. The plane jostled and my stomach
lurched with it. I had never flown before and I wasn’t used to the
sudden bumping and dropping of the aircraft, which I found
especially nerve-racking at twenty some odd thousand feet in the
air. No one else seemed concerned though, so I tried to just relax
and enjoy. It was hard to sit still since I was nearly bursting
with excitement. I fidgeted, crossing and re-crossing my legs,
pulling out my book and putting it away, sighing and staring out
the window at the black nothingness outside. I’m sure I was driving
the gentleman beside me crazy, but I couldn’t help it. Every minute
that passed brought me closer to Grey and my fantastic birthday
weekend. My very stomach was tingling.

It wasn’t long
before the landing gear was skidding across the pavement, the plane
decelerating so noisily I could barely hear the pilot announcing
the current time and temperature. I had made it. Grey was only
minutes away. Waiting for the seats to clear ahead of me was almost
torture, I bit my lip with impatience as the other passengers took
their sweet-ass time collecting their luggage and moseying off down
the aisle. Once in the jet way I motored past them and down the
hallway.

I took a few
precious seconds to find a washroom and give myself a quick
once-over. I wasn’t as put together as I would’ve liked since I
didn’t dare ask Charlie for help, but I had picked some things up
from her. My hair was up in a messy, punky ponytail; my eye make-up
dark and smoky. I was wearing jeans and heels and a tight black
turtleneck for the cooler weather, it was a classy outfit. I fixed
my make-up where it had smudged and sprayed just a touch more
perfume on, then reapplied my lip-gloss. I looked good, grown up,
like the adult I was going to be tomorrow. I grinned on my way out
the door.

My heart was
pounding excitedly in my chest as I turned the corner at the
arrivals gate, searching the terminal for Grey. I spotted him
easily; he was even more gorgeous than the last time I saw him.
Grey smirked as I approached, his blue eyes taking me in, looking
me over with blatant admiration. His dark, messy hair was beneath a
hat, he was dressed warmly in a snowboarding jacket and dark blue
jeans, and he looked so good. I didn’t want to do the whole
embarrassing run-up-to-him-scene, but I couldn’t help myself. He
was so close. I couldn’t wait even the time it would take to
approach all cool and casually.

I squealed with
pent-up excitement and leapt into his arms, and he chuckled,
hugging me to him. I snuggled up against his hard chest and
breathed deep his delicious smell, a glorious smile on my face.
He’d been gone for weeks, but already it felt like we’d never been
apart, like we were picking up right where we left off.

“I’m so happy
to see you.” I exclaimed.

“Happy
Birthday.” Grey smiled and kissed me. “Did you have a good
flight?”