Life of the Party (61 page)

“You’re not.” I
grasped his hand, desperate, and raised it to my cheek. “Grey, look
at me. I love you. I won’t let you leave me. You won’t. You can’t.”
I sobbed. “You love me too. I know you do.”

“Of course I
do.” His eyes were wild with pain. His voice was like a whisper
now, harsh and choking. “But I don’t have a choice.”

“Grey—”

“Grey, man.” It
was Zack. He seemed hesitant to interrupt us, but everyone was
already on stage. It was time for them to play. “Come on, we’re
on.”

Grey stood up,
like he was on automatic pilot again, and picked up his guitar. He
didn’t even glance back at me as he took the stage, the screams
deafening as he stood before the mike. Hopelessly I collapsed on
the floor, watching him. When he started to sing I committed the
sound to memory, every melodic pitch, every word his smooth voice
rumbled over. I listened to him through my tears and thought back,
trying to figure out where we went wrong and how everything had
fallen apart. After everything we’d done, everything we’d gone
through, how we could put it back together again? Back to the way
it used to be?

The rest of the
night dragged on, every second worse than the second before. I went
back to the bar; I didn’t know what else to do. I felt like
everyone was staring at me out of the corner of their eyes, I felt
like everyone was talking about me behind my back. Every breath was
a shudder as I attempted to hold back my sobs. All around me,
people were revelling, happy, joyful, celebrating. I hated them
all.

Just before
midnight, Serpentine played a wicked, hard rock version of
Auld
Lang Syne
. The crowd went crazy for them. I was so proud of
Grey up on the stage, in his tight jeans and his black t-shirt,
with the studded leather bracelets on his wrists, the cherry red
guitar held in his deft, capable hands. His dark messy hair, his
gorgeous blue eyes, his cocky smirk. I loved Grey more than I could
possibly love anybody. He was the only one for me, and suddenly, I
was determined to make it work.

I would do
anything I’d have to. I’d give up heroin. I’d start today, start
right now, if that’s what he needed. Anything.

The lights
dimmed when the band stopped playing, and the countdown began. The
club erupted with the deafening noise.

“Ten … nine …
eight … seven … six … five … four ….”

And then I was
safe. Safe in Grey’s arms again. I don’t even know where he came
from, but suddenly I was swept up into his warm, strong embrace,
and he crushed me to him. I clung to him just as tightly, my hands
in his hair, cupping his face. I smelt deeply his delicious cologne
and pressed my lips against his neck.

“You’re right,
you know. There’s no one for me but you.” He whispered.

“I know.” I
giggled shakily. “I know. Grey, we can make this work.” I stared up
into his eyes, trying to read them, trying to convince him.

“I’m going to
make this right.” He pressed his forehead to mine, speaking with
vehemence.

“I know. I
know.”

The clock
struck twelve.

“Happy New
Year, Mackenzie.” He smirked.

“Happy New
Year, Grey.” I whispered back, through my happy tears. We smiled at
each other, for just a moment, as the crowd started screaming and
cheering and clapping for the stroke of midnight.

And as Grey
bent to kiss me, a smile still on his lips, it seemed like they
were cheering for us.

I couldn’t wait
to go home. Grey and the guys had left the bar just shortly after
midnight, and I knew exactly what they were going home to do. My
craving for heroin pounded in my bones, reminding me—and I realized
I couldn’t wait to be done with it all. I couldn’t wait to feel …
healthy again. I knew it would hurt, I knew I’d be sick, I knew it
would downright suck, but I wanted to get off the heroin. So Grey
and I could be together, so it could be pure and real, just like it
once was.

The rest of my
shift I tried to picture our new life together. It seemed right
that it was New Years, a time for new beginnings, a time to leave
behind the old and start afresh. As people screamed their drink
orders at me and I worked in a frenzy to fill them, all I could
envision was Grey and I, our future together, sober and happy. We
could do it, I knew we could. I felt hope again, it surged
throughout me.

When the party
finally came to a close; when I finally made it home—shivering from
the cold—I bounded into the house. I couldn’t help myself. I felt
optimistic. Positive. More so than I had in a long time. Even
though I could feel the start of the sickness pressing in, I gave
Alex and Zack a happy smile as I burst into the living room. They
both sat slumped over on the couch, nodding off in front of the
TV.

Not even the
beading cold sweat could dampen my mood.

“Hey guys,
great show tonight!” I practically sang. It took a moment before
either of them could respond.

“Oh, thanks
Mac.” Alex smiled drowsily. “It was … really … good ….”

I giggled at
him. “Is Grey in our room?”

“Yeah ….”

I nearly ran
down the hall to our bedroom, my eyes adjusting to the dim light
within. The bedside lamp was on and I could see Grey’s form lying
on the bed. Our supplies were scattered in front of him. I grinned
understandably. I couldn’t begrudge him one last hit, one last time
before we started our new life, our clean life. Maybe I’d have one
too—just one more to tide over the sickness until he awoke, and
then we could do it together, could go through it together. And I
meant it this time, they weren’t just words. We were going to get
clean.

I crawled into
the bed behind him, gazing down at his handsome face, slack and
peaceful, utterly gorgeous. I wrapped an arm around his chest and
hugged him to me, kissing his neck and breathing deep. With my
fingers I slowly trailed down the hard muscle of his arm, expecting
him to shiver … but he just lay there, still. Wow, he must really
be out of it. I grinned, my lips following the pattern my fingers
had taken down his arm. He still had the needle clutched in his
hand, and gently I pried it loose from his grip.

“Grey.” I
whispered, nudging him slightly. “Grey, will you do one for
me?”

He didn’t
respond. I giggled softly in his ear, reaching my hand beneath his
t-shirt and skimming it over the smooth, hard muscle of his
abdomen. I pressed my palm against his chest, trying to coax a
reaction from him. “Grey?”

But he was
still. He was too still … something was wrong. Frowning, I pressed
my hand harder yet against his chest. But it didn’t move. It just
stayed flat and hard, without rising or falling ….

“Grey? Grey?” I
rolled him over so he was flat on his back. His slack form was
completely yielding, his head lolling on the pillow. His lips were
blue.

My heart
stopped beating

“No, no, no,
no, no, no, no ….” I was frozen. Terrified by my discovery. Part of
my brain tried to jolt me into action, tried to tell me to get up,
to run, to go and get help. But I couldn’t, I was shaking too
badly. And I didn’t want to leave him; I didn’t want to leave him
alone.

Part of me shut
down. I was only barely aware as I got up off the bed, my footsteps
staggering in utter horror. I had to use the wall for support. It
was like I was outside myself, like a spectator at a play, watching
some horrible drama ensue. I rooted for the girl I could see, I
hoped for her. Yes, go get help, I told her. Go get Alex and Zack
….

I wobbled,
teetering down the hallway. My muscles wouldn’t move, like I was in
a nightmare or something, paralysed with fear.

“
Zack!
”
I barked. “
Alex
!”

There was no
movement from the couches.

Damn, stupid
junkies. “
Zack! Alex! Help me!
” My voice was so shrill, so
high pitched—like the fear had frozen my voice box and all it could
make now was this strangled, harsh soprano.

They must have
heard the sheer panic of my scream. Both of them shook awake,
staring up at me in confusion for a moment. Alex was the first to
move.

“What’s wrong,
Mac?” He came to me in the hallway, helped me stand straight, his
eyes hazy with concern.

“Grey … it’s
Grey ….” I panted. “Oh god … it’s Grey … please … please ….”

He left me
there. Zack brushed past me an instant later. I clutched the wall
for support; my limbs were shaking so badly that my teeth nearly
chattered. I couldn’t see straight. I couldn’t watch. I shut my
eyes and listened as Zack and Alex ran into our room, hoping I had
made some terrible mistake—that Grey would be up and sitting in
bed, wondering what the hell all the noise was about.

“Shit! Shit!
Grey … Grey buddy … wake up man ….”

I could hear
someone slapping him. It was true then, it was real. A sob escaped
my throat and I slid down the wall, my legs refusing to hold my
weight up anymore.

“Come on man …
come on … come on buddy ….”

Sirens.
Paramedics. Red, flashing lights. A stretcher. A body on the
stretcher. CPR. Shouting. White lights. Sterile. Emergency room.
Beeping machines. IV.

My mom.

She came up out
of nowhere. Of course she was working tonight. Wasn’t she always
working? Isn’t that why I had always been alone?

I had never
felt more alone than I did at that instant.

She scanned the
limp body on the stretcher for a half a second, assessing the
situation, and then sprang into action. I’d never seen my mom at
work before, she was commanding—everyone hurried to follow her
orders.

“I need 10cc’s!
Lori, start the Defibrillator ….” She pulled on a pair of white
gloves and hurried to the front of the bed. At that moment, she saw
me. Her blue eyes filled with anguish for just a second.

“Get her out of
here!” She shouted. Someone grabbed me, but I fought them. I
couldn’t leave Grey. I’d been in a total trance until then, just
blinking at the nurses and paramedics surrounding him as they
worked frantically—pushing needles into his skin, shouting orders
at each other. His handsome face was covered by an oxygen mask. He
wasn’t breathing, he couldn’t breathe. I wanted to be near him
until he did; I needed to feel the warmth of his hand, to know that
he was going to be okay. He had to be okay ….

“Mom! Please!”
I shouted desperately. “Help him! Please, help him!”

“Get her out of
here!” She boomed. The grip on my arms tightened and then I was
being hauled away, beyond the swinging doors, out into the waiting
room.

“
No! No!
Grey!
” I was screaming, fighting them. They didn’t understand.
They couldn’t understand how badly I needed to be beside him. It
would help him, my closeness. It would give him a reason to open
his eyes again.

Someone held my
writhing body. I couldn’t look at them; I looked past them,
straining for a glimpse inside the ER. “Let me go!” I shouted. “Let
me go!”

And then, I was
calmer. I didn’t want to be; I knew there was a reason for me to
keep fighting. But then my head got cloudy and my muscles relaxed
without my bidding. I hadn’t even felt the needle until I saw the
orderly holding it in his hand. They’d given me something to calm
down. Valium, probably. He set me on a chair then, and they left me
all alone.

It was too
quiet in the waiting room. The change was tangible after the
frantic chaos of the ER. I had no choice but to just sit there; I
had no energy to move my limbs. I was thankful for the Valium, it
wouldn’t let me think straight. It wouldn’t let me gnaw the ends of
my fingertips off with worry. But it was also making me sleepy. I
fought with my eyelids as they drooped heavily. I knew there was
something I should stay awake for, but I was losing the battle.
Despite my best efforts I dropped my head, slumped in the chair,
and gave in to the relative comfort of sleep.

My mom shook me
awake. I stared up at her a moment, bleary eyed. How could it be
time to get up for school already? It felt like I had just gone to
sleep ….

“Mackenzie?”
Her eyes were full of sorrow, her face tense, like she was stressed
about something. She was in her white Doctor’s coat. Didn’t she
usually leave that at work?

And then it all
came rushing back to me, in a tidal wave of dread. All of it.
Grey’s still chest. The ambulance. The nurses, the machines, the
tubes. The beeping. His limp, motionless body. I sat up rigidly,
already reaching for the doors to the emergency room.

“Grey!”

“Mackenzie.”
Mom stopped me, her hand firm on my arm.

“Can I see him?
Can I see him mom?”

Tears began to
swim in her eyes.

“Mom?” My
whisper was choked, desperate. “Mom, can I see him?”

“I don’t think
so, honey.”

I swallowed
heavily. “… Why not?”

“Because.
Sweetie, Grey … Grey didn’t make it. He overdosed, Mackenzie. It
was too late; there was too much heroin in his system ….”

“No. What? No.”
Slowly I shook my head. No. No. Liar. She was lying. Grey couldn’t
be dead. I knew what this was; I knew what she was doing. They were
trying to keep us apart. When I was drugged, she’d hatched up some
plot. She’d give Grey something … money maybe, if he promised to
stay away from me. And then she’d tell me he was dead. They never
wanted us to be together. Ha. The joke was on her. No amount of
money could keep Grey from me. He’d find me, he would.

“I’m so sorry,
baby.” My mom was crying now, like it hurt her deeply to tell me
the news. I hadn’t realized she was such a good actress before. Was
this the part where I was supposed to believe her? I scoffed. I’d
show her. I wasn’t going to fall for her little ploy.