Life of the Party (6 page)

“Is Grey
working tonight?” I asked Charlie nonchalantly, sipping my
Pepsi.

“No. Off
tonight.” Her smile became an eye roll and then she shook her head.
“Don’t even tell me.”

“Don’t tell you
what?”

“I can’t
believe … you started here for him, didn’t you?”

“What?” I
pretended to be appalled; amazed that she had seen through me so
quickly. “Of course not.”

“Yeah, right.
Well you wouldn’t be the first one, honey. This place gets more
resumes than West-Jet.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. But
listen; if that’s all you’re here for, you’re wasting your time.
Grey … well … I can’t figure him out. I’ve worked here for nearly a
year and he won’t give me the time of day. It’s the same with all
the girls. Maybe he has a thing about dating where he works.” She
shrugged.

I translated
this statement to mean that Charlie had hit on him and he’d
rejected her. I nodded for her to continue.

“I don’t know
what else to tell you. Good luck, I guess. But take it from me,
I’ve seen pretty much every attempt under the sun and he never goes
for it.”

I nodded again.
“Well. Luckily, that’s not what I’m here for.”

“Right.”
Charlie smiled and nodded. “I forgot. Anyways, maybe he’s gay.”

I thought of
Grey’s stubbled face as it screamed into the microphone, of his
thigh-hugging blue jeans and studded leather bracelets. No, nothing
about Grey could or would ever be gay. But he would be a challenge.
I kept this thought to myself, picked up a coffeepot and went out
to check the customers.

There was still
vacuuming to do, salad dressings to refill, the coffee machine to
clean, ketchups to wipe … the list went on and on. I had no idea
there was so much to a waitressing gig. By the time I plunked
myself down at a table to roll the cutlery my feet ached, my legs
stumbled and my eyes burned with exhaustion. Most of the kitchen
crew were already out front, relaxing at the tables and drinking
coffee. A thick haze of smoke hung in the air above them.

“Hey Mac.”
Riley left his table and joined me, his checked kitchen duds
replaced by street clothes. He sat down with a sigh. “How was your
first day?”

“Tired.” Was
all I could say. He laughed and handed me a smoke. “Here, this will
make you feel better.”

It did. I
instantly relaxed the moment the precious burn hit my lungs.
“Thanks.”

“No problem.
It’ll get easier you know. My first day I was so overwhelmed.”

“Yeah. Is it
always this busy?”

“Most nights.
But your tips will be worth it, trust me.”

“Tips!” I
totally forgot. I smiled and nearly ran back to the waitress area,
despite my aching legs, for my newly decorated Styrofoam cup filled
with change. I had written my name on it in big black letters,
complete with a few pointy stars for company.

“Can I trust
you?” I teased, handing the cup to Riley so I could resume my
cutlery rolling. He shrugged and smiled back.

“I guess we’ll
see.”

We sat in
silence for a moment, both bent over the task at hand. As I took
another drag of my cigarette, I suddenly realized why nearly every
single person at the restaurant indulged in the delicious filthy
habit. Nothing helped relax you after a tiring, busy shift like the
simple pleasure of a smoke.

“Not a bad
haul.” Riley decided then, jumping up to exchange my small change
for bills from the main till. He handed me a few twenties and a
ten. I smiled in delight.

“Wow, worth
it!” I declared happily. “Let’s celebrate! This is more then enough
for a bag. What do you say?” Weed smoke would be even more
relaxing.

Riley surprised
me by hesitating. He looked at my small pile of money and
frowned.

“I don’t know,
Mac.” He sighed.

“What? Why
not?”

“I don’t know.
It’s a school night.”

“It’s a …
what?” I stared at him in stupefied shock, “… and?”

“And, I don’t
feel the need to be ripped all the time, alright?” Though he kept
his voice low, there was no mistaking the sudden edge to it. He
looked at me in frustration. “There’s more to life, you know.”

I was
speechless. I stared at him curiously. Never since the day Riley
smoked his first joint had he ever turned down weed. Free weed
especially. At school, after school, on the weekends, in the
evenings, at important family functions … Riley was always high. He
was high so often that his mom only got suspicious when he was
sober. Being high was the norm for Riley.

I frowned back
at him, my night suddenly shot. The last thing I wanted to do was
go home to an empty house by myself.

“What brought
this on?” I wondered.

“Just ….” He
sighed again, like I was being difficult. “Just forget about it. Do
you still need a ride?”

I shrugged. “I
guess. I don’t know. I don’t want to go home alone.” I looked at
him hopefully. “Will you come with me? We can hang out, watch a
movie, and I can get high while you … sit there I guess.”

“There’s no way
I’d be around weed without smoking it.”

“Well, problem
solved then.”

“No, Mac. That
means I’m not coming. Not unless you can handle abstaining for an
hour or so.” He rolled his eyes and shook his head doubtfully.

“What …?” I
couldn’t believe the sudden one-eighty that had occurred in Riley’s
mind during the few short days since the weekend. I hadn’t talked
to him at all on Sunday and though today he’d been abnormally
quiet, I was too distracted both by my first day at work and my
constant Grey musings to really pay attention.

But Riley had
my full attention now.

“What’s with
all the judgement all a sudden?” I leaned forward and stamped out
my cigarette.

“No judgement …
just don’t try and force me to do things I don’t want to do.”

“But until
like, three seconds ago, you did want to do these things.”

“Well I don’t
anymore, okay. So can we just drop it?”

I stared at him
a moment. “Whatever.” I muttered. But I wasn’t ready to drop it,
not even close. There was no way I could just relax and try to
shrug it off—it made me anxious. Our relationship didn’t need
anymore change at the moment; it needed good old repetition and
routine until we were comfortable again, until we were just Riley
and Mackenzie like always. The Riley and Mackenzie who got high and
had fun and just were what they’d always been.

“Look, I’m
sorry.” Riley softened and game me a slight smile. “It’s just, it’s
hard enough as it is, you know?”

“What’s hard,
Ry?” I lit another cigarette. We were completely oblivious to the
cooks and staff and the crowd around us—thinning out as they went
home for the night—caught up in our own little saga.

“Can we talk
about this later? I don’t want to turn it into a big thing … and I
know your flair for drama.”

“What flair for
drama?” I wondered, but Riley ignored me.

“Did you see
your schedule?” I guess he considered the case closed.

I sighed. “No.
I know I work tomorrow night but that’s it.”

“Here,” he
unfolded a sheet of paper for me to see. “You’re on tomorrow,
Friday night and Sunday afternoon. You’ll probably get more shifts
as you get better.”

“When do you
work?” I asked, taking the paper from him. I gave it a quick
glance. Riley worked nearly every night I did but Saturday. Good to
know. What I really wanted to see was Grey’s schedule, and I
realized in disappointment that he mostly worked during the day
while I was in school. Stupid age! But then, not all was lost. He
worked the Friday nightshift that week, right alongside me.

I smiled at the
thought. “We work together every time.” I announced to my
friend.

Riley nodded.
“I requested that. Thought I could help you out if you needed.”

“Thanks Ry.” I
was touched.

He shrugged.
“No big deal.”

I sat back in
my chair and studied him through the curling smoke of my cigarette.
He was getting hotter every day. His dark messy hair, his warm
chocolate eyes … if he weren’t my best friend in the world, he’d be
awfully tempting. I felt almost … disappointed that I couldn’t feel
for him that way. He was so caring too … the way he thought of me,
the way he rearranged his schedule to help me out. I sighed. It was
only a matter of time before a girl threw herself at him,
inevitable that he would meet someone. Then he would be spending
all his time thinking of her and trying to please her instead of
me. I frowned. I was selfish enough to hate the thought of him
happy with someone else. Some friend I was.

“Come on.” I
smiled. “Can we go get high now or what?”

Riley shot me a
look, shook his head, and smiled resignedly. “Mackenzie, you’re
going to be the death of me.”

I took that as
a yes. “So you’re in then?” I smiled. I thought I had won.

“No. I’m not
in. But I will give you a ride home.”

“Oh.” I was
deflated. I frowned as Riley got his stuff together. A flutter of
panic settled into the pit of my stomach but I tried to push it
aside. He was still Riley. Weed or no weed, he was my friend, my
best friend, and he always would be. Nothing could or would change
that. I tried to give him a sincere smile as we walked to the
car.

But the worry
remained.

We rode
silently. Riley’s window was rolled up, he chewed his gum
compulsively. I sat with my arms crossed, dying for a cigarette,
staring glumly out the window at the larger, newer homes lining my
street that gradually changed to older, smaller houses as we drove
towards the school.

I was
irritated. Riley had decided, among everything else, to quit
smoking as well. It pissed me off that I couldn’t smoke in Riley’s
car now, something I’d done every single school morning since grade
eight. He hadn’t specifically forbidden it, but the way he gripped
the steering wheel told me he was just as desperate for a smoke as
I was. It wouldn’t help anything if I lit up right now.

“What’s eating
you this morning?” He asked me tersely when I started biting my
nails.

“You know what
it is.” I answered, just as icily. I sighed. “This totally sucks,
Ry.”

“What, now you
have to go like, another ten minutes before you can smoke in the
morning? Is that what sucks?”

“Yes, that,
among other things.” I admitted.

“Oh, I’m sorry.
I totally forgot that everything’s about you.” Riley’s voice oozed
sarcasm. I realized it probably wasn’t the best time for this
conversation, since we were both irrationally irritated by the lack
of nicotine. I fidgeted.

“Whatever.
Forget it.” I shook my head and resumed watching out the window. I
didn’t want to fight with him. I just wanted Riley, the way he was
before, the way we were before. Everything was changing, too fast,
slipping from my grasp quicker than I could re-grip it. And I still
didn’t quite understand the reasoning. Riley hadn’t explained it to
me yet.

“Why,” I
started again, keeping my voice lighter, like we were in the middle
of a pleasant conversation. “Why do you need to clean up anyway?
It’s not like you’re a junky or anything Ry, you just like to have
a little fun. There’s nothing wrong with that. You’re young. You’re
allowed.”

“Are you
kidding me? Were you not there the other night? That is not what I
consider fun.” Riley turned his dark eyes to me incredulously. “I
could’ve died, I felt like I was going to die. That trip scared me
straight. I’m not even the same person anymore, I don’t think the
same about things, I don’t feel the same. I don’t even want the
same things.” He looked at me pointedly. “Can’t you understand
that? I’ve been given a second chance. A chance to get out while I
still can. I don’t want to screw it up.”

I watched his
hands as they turned the steering wheel and we pulled into the
gravel lot at school. His knuckles were white with earnest. I
marvelled again at the complete transformation that had occurred
within my friend in just a few short days. I felt like I didn’t
even know him anymore, I had never seen this side of him
before.

I stared back
out the window. The significance of his words and what he meant by
them made me bite my lip in concern. Riley wasn’t just going
through a temporary phase like I hoped. He was making a life
change. He was done—done with it all, done with the partying and
the drinking and the smoking and the fun. I realized too, that for
once, I felt totally different from him.

I wasn’t ready
to be done. I loved what we did; I lived for the weekend, for our
Friday afternoon farmyard tradition. To be stoned and laugh and
drink. To be wild and crazy and experience everything. That’s what
I wanted out of life.

I tried to
imagine that life without Riley. I saw no one beside me at parties
… I imagined myself lonely and forlorn, sitting amidst the
abandoned farm buildings with nothing but the prairie grass for
company, smoking a joint. I saw myself in the passenger seat of his
car, but I wasn’t going anywhere, because there was no driver.
Mackenzie without her Riley was just Mackenzie. And that future
looked bleak.

“You’re ruining
everything.” I blurted suddenly, rash from my grim imaginings. I
didn’t want that life, not without Riley. Why did he have to go and
have that stupid mushroom trip? Who was I going to hang out with
now?

Riley glared at
me, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. “I’m ruining everything?” He
stared at me a moment and scoffed. “The only thing I’m ruining is
your good time. You … you don’t even see that I nearly died the
other night. That I was scared shitless and will never put myself
in that situation again. I’m lucky and thankful to be alive and I
need to change before I totally lose control and turn out just like
my father ….” His voice broke and he looked away from me, gripping
the steering wheel again. I stared at him, speechless. He recovered
quickly. “You … you have got to be the most selfish person that I
have ever known. I bet you’re not even upset about our friendship,
but because you’ll have to find another dealer. Is that right? Am I
close?”