Life of the Party (45 page)

“So, what’s
going on with Zack, anyway?” I asked Grey as we searched; perturbed
that Zack’s idiocy had ended up ruining my weekend.

“What do you
mean?” He wondered innocently.

“You know what
I mean. Charlie, remember her? He hasn’t even called her.”

“Oh, right.
That.” Grey shrugged and continued looking through my purse.

“Yes, that.” I
stopped what I was doing and looked up at him. “So?”

“So ….” Grey
sighed. “Mackenzie, it’s none of our business.”

“Um, yeah, it
wasn’t my business until my friggin’ license was stolen.” I
insisted. “But it sure the hell is now.”

“Fine. Zack is
seeing somebody else. Okay? Happy?”

“What! He is?
Here?” I froze in disbelief. I thought of my friend at home, pining
for a boyfriend who was totally cheating on her, and felt a little
less anger towards her. But only a little. “Are you sure? How do
you know?”

“Because,
normally I share this room with Zack. He was nice enough to stay
with Alex for the weekend. But trust me. I know.”

I cast a wary
glance at the other bed. “Then …. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you
would tell Charlie.”

“Of course I
would.”

“You ever heard
of the phrase, ‘shoot the messenger’?”

I stared back
at him in amazement, “Yes, but don’t you think she deserves to
know?”

“Yeah. But I
think that Zack should be the one to tell her.”

“But he hasn’t,
Grey.” My voice rose defensively. “And she’s totally heartbroken
because of it. You should see her.”

“It’s none of
our business.” Grey stated again.

“Well, I’m
telling her.” I decided. He just shrugged, like he didn’t really
care.

“Suit
yourself.” He answered noncommittally. “Just keep me out of
it.”

“I will.” I
shook my head and bent down to rifle through my suitcase again,
riddled with disbelief. I had always feared the worst as far as
Zack was concerned, but it was still shocking to learn the
truth.

After our
search proved fruitless, I flopped down on the bed, defeated.

“Ugh, this
sucks.” I covered my face with my hands. I wanted to punch
something, to hit something really, really hard until all my anger
and frustration were released. Better yet, I wanted to get high. I
wanted to get wasted, even more so that I had that morning, but
now, ironically, without my ID the Club was out of the
question.

“This ruins
everything, doesn’t it?” I spoke through clenched teeth, staring up
at the ceiling in aggravation.

“Man, you’re
dramatic.” Grey chuckled, and his blue eyes were amused as he
looked down at my despondent form lying crushed across the bed.
“Nothing is ruined. So the plans change a bit. No big deal.”

“No big deal?”
I looked up at him incredibly.

“Yeah.” He
shrugged. “We’ll find something else to do.”

“Like what?
Watch the UFC?” I suggested sourly.

“Maybe.” He
grinned. “Just leave it up to me, Mackenzie. License or no, I
promise you an eighteenth birthday that you’ll never forget.”

I sighed. It
wasn’t that I doubted him, but I couldn’t see how anything would
top the Club, especially after I’d had my heart set on it for so
long. But Grey’s handsome face was so hopeful, so eager, I couldn’t
help but have my spirits lifted. It sucked that my birthday was
ruined, it was a huge disappointment, but at least I got to spend
it with him. Softly, I returned his smile.

“Promise?”

“Promise. Just
let me make a couple calls.”

“Grey.” I
grasped his hand as he moved from the bed, and smiled my gratitude
up at him. “Thank you. I’m sorry if I ruined your weekend.”

“Mackenzie,” he
smirked, “my weekend was made the moment you got off the
plane.”

Grey left
shortly afterwards. I had no idea where he was going or what he was
doing, but he promised not to be long and gave me a wicked grin
before heading out the door. Fervently I hoped he was going to get
some cocaine or something, I hadn’t been able to bring my own stash
onto the plane with me and was beginning to get antsy from the
lack, especially given the mood I was in. With a heavy sigh, I
picked up the remote control and idly flipped through the channels
on TV, trying not to feel too sorry for myself.

I was smoking
and mindlessly staring at an old episode of
Family Guy
when
my cell phone rang.
“Leila … you got me on my knees ….”
Absently I fished through my purse and answered it, nodding my head
in time with the song.

“Hello?” I blew
my smoke out.

“Hello?
Mackenzie?”

“Oh … hi …
Mom.” I muted the TV and sat up, totally surprised to hear my
mother’s voice on the other end of the phone.

“I just wanted
to call and wish you happy birthday.” She was saying.

“Oh …
thanks.”

“Have you had a
good day so far?”

“Uh … yeah,
it’s been great.” I lied.

“That’s good.”
Mom’s voice was overly chipper; like last time we spoke was just
the other day and not ages ago, when I was storming out of my
sister’s wedding after my boyfriend punched the groomsman in the
face. I shouldn’t have been surprised though, this was typically
the way things went with my parents. It was easier for them to
ignore the issues than to deal with them properly, to let them
fester just below the surface—always present, but never talked
about. I shrugged to myself. They could act like nothing happened
all they wanted, but I still hadn’t forgotten how badly they
treated Grey. And I hadn’t forgiven them for it either.

“So, your dad
and I were thinking about throwing you a little birthday party.”
Mom continued hopefully. “Not much … just family. I think Marcy and
Greg are coming over, we could have a little dinner, some birthday
cake … what do you say?”

“I don’t know.”
I hesitated, grinning wickedly at a sudden idea. “Maybe … if Grey
can come.”

I caught her
off guard. “Oh, um …,” she stammered, her careful composure
shattered by my question. “Uh … well, do you think that’d be a …
good idea?”

“Yes.” I
answered immediately. I knew there was no way Grey could make it;
he had to stay in the city for at least another week. I just wanted
to see what she’d say.

“Well … it’s
your party.” She agreed finally, but her voice sounded strained,
like it had taken a lot for her to say. “So, we’ll see you tonight,
then?”

“Oh, no. Not
tonight. I won’t be back in town until tomorrow.”

“Oh, really?
You’re not in town?”

“No. I’m with
Grey for the weekend. We’re staying together at a hotel.” I
goaded.

“Are you?”
Mom’s nose was flaring; I could tell.

“Yeah. ‘ Cause
they’re in the studio right now, remember?”

“Oh, right. I
remember him mentioning that.”

I rolled my
eyes doubtfully. “Anyway, mom, I’m not sure what time our flight
gets in tomorrow. It might be late.”

“Well … do you
need a ride home from the airport?” Her voice seemed buoyed by the
thought. “We could come pick you up. Maybe go to dinner in the
city?”

Ugh. I had
walked right into this one. The worst part was I did need a ride.
If Charlie hadn’t begrudgingly given me a lift to the airport on
Friday I would’ve been totally S.O.L, but I wouldn’t have lost my
license either. What I really needed was a car. I shut my eyes and
took a breath, resigned to my automobiley-challenged fate. “Yeah,
sure mom.” I sighed. “I’ll find out what time our flight gets
in.”

“Great. I’ll
tell your father.”

“Okay.”

“See you
tomorrow, honey.”

“Bye.” I
flipped my phone shut and leaned back against the bed for a moment.
This was going to be interesting. But it was only dinner. And a
ride home. Surely I could live through that.

Not two seconds
after hanging up my phone, it rang again. Mom must have forgotten
something. I rolled my eyes and answered abruptly.

“What is
it?”

“…
Mackenzie?”

I sat up again,
stock-still. Holy crap. “… Riley?” My entire being was startled by
the unexpected sound of his voice—so unmistakable, so familiar in
my ear. It was such a shock; I couldn’t decide how I felt about it.
“Wow. Is that really you?”

“Yeah, it’s
me.” He chuckled. “And is that how you answer your phone now?”

“No, I just
didn’t expect it to be … you.”

“I know, it’s
been awhile. I probably shouldn’t have called, but I wanted to wish
you happy birthday ….”

“No, no. I’m
glad you called.” The moment I spoke the words, I realized they
were true. There was no denying the instant, explicit joy that had
surged within me at merely the sound of his voice. It just felt …
right. “And thanks. I’m sorry, I just, I can’t get over … I mean, I
can’t believe it’s really you.”

“Don’t I sound
the same?” He wondered.

“Yeah.” I
answered thoughtfully, “but no at the same time. You sound older or
something. Different.”

“Hmmm.”

“How about me?”
I giggled nervously. I lit a smoke to help my nerves and leaned
back against the pillows, amazed by how flustered I was. This was
Riley, one of my oldest friends, one of my best friends. And yet my
heart was pounding in my chest. “Do I sound the same?”

“Yes, you do.
Exactly the same.” He spoke wistfully. “Just really far away.”

“Yeah, well, I
am far away.”

“I know.” Riley
chuckled mirthlessly. “So, anyway … what’s up? What’s new with
you?”

“Oh, not much.”
I shrugged. “Uh … Marcy got married a few weeks ago.”

“Oh, right. I
forgot. How was that?”

“It was
alright. I can’t really stand her husband though. I don’t know what
she sees in him.”

“Yeah, well,
you can’t help who you love.”

“No, I guess
not.” I relented, wondering fleetingly if he were referring to the
Christian with that statement. I tried to shake the thought from my
mind. “So anyway, what’s new with you? Are you liking it up
there?”

“Yeah, it’s
alright. I spent the summer tree planting. Can you believe it? My
whole summer.”

“Tree
planting?” I squinched my nose. “Why?”

“I don’t know.
It was this youth thing. I made some good money though.”

“That’s good.”
I giggled. “But that doesn’t really sound like you. You spent like,
all last summer in bed during the day. Remember?”

“Yeah, well, I
had to build up my strength to party at night.” He chuckled. “Wow.
That seems like a lifetime ago. I can’t believe we did that.”

“I know.” I
laughed with him. It felt really, really good to talk to him again,
like actually talk, instead of just argue. It felt like old times
again. I smiled into the phone.

“So, what about
school?” I wondered. “I thought you were looking into one.”

“Yeah, I did.
That’s what I needed to make the money for.”

“Oh. So you are
in school?”

“Yeah.”

“Which
one?”

Riley
hesitated. “Uhh … well ….”

“What? You’re
not becoming an acrobat or something, are you?”

“No. Not an
acrobat.” He chuckled.

“What
then?”

“Mackenzie,” he
sighed.

“What? Just
tell me. I won’t laugh or anything. Let me guess, a figure skater?
Is that what you’re going to school for?”

“No. It’s a
Bible school.”

“A Bible
school?”

“Yes. Both
Emily and I are enrolled, and we live in the dorms here.”

“Together?”

“No,
separate.”

“Oh.” I
breathed with relief. The thought of him living with the Christian
was too much to bear. “So … you’re in a Bible school.” I couldn’t
keep the surprise out of my tone, though I honestly did try. Never
in a million years would I have placed Riley there. Of all places.
I mean, I knew his views on certain things had changed, I just
hadn’t realized how much. I tried to be supportive though. “Do you
… like it?”

“Yeah, I do, so
far.” He seemed relieved. “It’s actually really, really good.”

“But what do
you … do?”

“What you
normally do at any school. Learn.”

“But what do
you learn about?”

“The Bible.” He
teased. “It’s not rocket science, Mac.”

“Shut up.” I
giggled. “I didn’t know.”

“Are you sure
you don’t want to rethink the whole higher-education thing?”

“Shut up
Riley!” I laughed. “Be nice.”

“Okay, okay.”
He chuckled. “Sorry. I forgot how much fun you were to bug.”

“Did you?”

“No.” Riley
admitted. “I could never …,” he cleared his throat. “Um … anyway,
what are your big birthday plans for tonight? Grey taking you
somewhere nice so you can throw up everywhere, or are you just
staying in?”

I rolled my
eyes, and sighed theatrically. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. This
was going too well, wasn’t it?”

“What do you
mean?”

“You know what
I mean, Riley. This will only lead to an argument.”

“No, no
argument.” He argued. “Don’t get mad. I just want to know that
you’ll be careful tonight. That’s all.”

“You didn’t
call after all this time just to lecture me, did you?”

“No. I’m not
lecturing. But I do want you to take it easy, Mac; I know what
you’re like.”

“You do? And
how is that?”

He chuckled.
“Come on. You know how you are. There’s no middle ground with you.
It’s either all or nothing, go hard or go home. Right?”

“I don’t know.”
I shrugged.

“Yeah you do.”
He chuckled. “Remember back in … um, grade five or six I think,
when we had that UPC contest?”

“Kind of.”

“The school was
doing that big recycling campaign. Whoever brought in the most UPC
codes from milk cartons and stuff won a bike. You remember.”

I did remember.
“Yeah.” I relented. The bike was beautiful, a cherry red two wheel
with spoke-clickers, fluorescent yellow streamers and a wire basket
on the front. It was my dream bike. I just had to make it mine.