Life of the Party (68 page)

The diary fell
from my trembling fingers, and I looked up, seeing nothing, blankly
staring. These words weren’t just an idle poem or a song or a
lyric. They were a message to me.

“If I have the
strength to leave ….”

It was a
suicide note.

No, it couldn’t
be. But it was. The horrible truth crashed down on me, and for a
moment I couldn’t breathe. The fact that Grey had overdosed never
really made sense to me, not when he was always so careful, so
cautious about the amount we did, ever wary about the possibility
of OD’ing.

I’d always
wondered how he could’ve made such a fatal mistake. I knew the
answer now. I shut my eyes, dropping my head into my hands, my
throat aching with tears. Grey hadn’t made a mistake. He had
deliberately taken too big a dose, just as I had. Only unlike mine,
his dose had been lethal. Grey had killed himself on purpose.

Why? Why?

My horrid,
terrible musings were interrupted as Allison strolled out from the
bathroom, drying her short blonde hair idly with a towel. Quickly I
wiped at my eyes and tried to pull myself together before she could
notice.

“Bathroom’s all
yours, if you want.” She offered politely.

“Yeah … thanks
…,” I mumbled. Leaving my diary where it lay upside down in the
mess of blankets, I stood up and got ready for bed, my motions
automatic—wooden, like I was on autopilot again. Grey had killed
himself, and my whole world was changed by this realization. It
hadn’t been an act of chance or fate or God. It had been a
decision. Grey had chosen death. He had purposely taken himself
away from this world. Away from everything. Away from me.

Grey, what have
you done? Why? Why did you do it?

I got into my
bed and instantly rolled over, facing the wall. Allison shut off
the light, and even in the pitch black, my eyes stayed open
wide—stunned, like a deer in the headlights. My heart was pounding
fearfully hard in my chest. Grey had opted for death. Grey had
killed himself. Why? I ran over and over the words of his slight
poem. I wished he’d given me more, I wished I knew his motive.

In my mind, I
pictured our last night together, the New Years Eve party at the
Aurora. He’d been so upset to see that I had cut myself and he’d
finally realized just how sickly and grotesque I had become. But I
thought I’d convinced him that we could change our lives—that we
could get clean together and live sober and happy. Hadn’t I?

“
I’m going
to make this right,”
Grey had said, just before the stroke of
midnight, when our kiss had seemed like a promise. Was that what he
meant? By killing himself? But how did that make it right … how did
that make anything right? He was my life, my whole life. He knew
how badly I needed him, how badly we needed each other ….

I gasped as a
sudden thought occurred to me. Maybe that was it, though. Maybe
Grey knew how … dependent we were on each other. That we were
addicted to each other as much as we were to the heroin, and
together, we’d never be able to kick the drugs. He knew we couldn’t
be apart, but if he stuck around, I’d never get clean. I’d just
keep dying the same, slow, drawn-out death that was so apparent in
my features. But he couldn’t bear to just leave me, either. He
couldn’t bear to
live
without me ….

This new
realization sunk deep, deep down into my soul. Riley was right.

Our
relationship hadn’t been healthy, as good as it was. We were too
much the same, Grey and I—too eager for a good time, too willing to
pursue the next high at the expense of our bodies. We were slowly
destroying each other. And Grey realized that, in the end. So he
took himself out of the picture. Gave me a chance … a chance at
life.

“I want you to
truly live ….”

“ …
Forgive
me
….”

“Grey ….” I
whispered into the darkness, “There’s nothing to forgive. It’s not
your fault … it was never your fault ….”

Maybe our
relationship hadn’t been healthy, but Grey had truly loved me.

He loved me the
only way he knew how.

I missed that
love. The great, vast emptiness in my soul suddenly flared to life,
throbbing, pounding with hurt. I’d never felt so alone. The
hollowness was echoing. The dark was pressing in. Every time I shut
my eyes I pictured Grey alone in his room that night. Had he been
scared? Had he cried? Or had he steeled himself to that final
decision? I saw him in my mind, his handsome brow furrowed with
determination as he mixed his last lethal dose of heroin. I saw the
drugs on the spoon, as dark as blackness. Poor Grey, so alone
….

Allison was
already sleeping, I could tell from her slow, even breaths. So
fretfully, I pushed back my covers and ran to the door. I couldn’t
take it anymore. I needed … I needed someone—someone I knew—someone
who could comfort me with just the sound of his voice.

I wiped
frantically at the tears that continued to stream down my cheeks,
allowing myself a breathy sob in the relative privacy of the
hallway. I snuck down the darkened corridor as lithely as I could,
aiming for the shadows of the communal phone booth by the game
room. Everything was so hushed, so quiet. I was afraid to make even
the slightest noise.

I reached the
phone and pounded in the number. I didn’t need to see to know which
buttons to push; I had used them almost every day for the last
fourteen years or so. I didn’t know how late it was, I didn’t know
how many hours I had lay in my bed tormented with such sorrowful
thought. I hoped he’d answer, and not his mom. I knew Mrs. McIntyre
was up every morning at five-thirty for work at the meatpacking
plant.

The first time
around, there was no response. It must have been really late, but I
didn’t care. I hung up the phone and dialled again, my broken heart
pounding with anxiety. This time, on the fifth ring, he
answered.

“Hello?” His
voice was deep, raspy from sleep.

“Riley?”

“Mackenzie?
What’s up, are you okay?” His voice sharpened with concern.

“I don’t know
Ry,” I couldn’t keep the tears out of my voice, “I can’t
sleep.”

“How come?”

“… It’s too
dark ….” I whispered. I couldn’t tell him the real reason. I made
up my mind at that moment never to tell anyone the real reason for
Grey’s death. It’d be our secret. Forever. I wrapped the phone cord
through my fingers, holding back a sob. Grey wanted me to live. He
gave up his life so I would. And I could do it, for him. I could
live.

“Riley?” I
sniffed.

“Yeah?”

“Will you come
visit me tomorrow?”

The room was
the same—same bland wallpaper, same beige furniture crammed into
the same nondescript tiny space—but today the atmosphere was
different. For the first time in a long, long time, I felt …
something. Motivation, maybe. A kind of drive. Like more than just
the sheer unwillingness of my body to die was keeping me alive.
Like my life had a purpose again. All night after my phone call to
Riley, I had thought about the things I could do if I got better.
Once upon a time, back in my straight “A” days, I had wanted to be
something. A doctor, like Marcy and my Mom, or a lawyer even … just
someone … important. Those dreams were lost now, but never really
suited me anyway—having been born from an ill-conceived attempt to
try and impress my parents. I could do anything, though. And I was
determined to. I was going to make Grey proud.

If Riley
noticed my sudden change of heart, he didn’t say anything. He sat
across the table from me, drinking lukewarm coffee from a Styrofoam
cup. We actually had a few moments of normal, light conversation
without the heavy burden of utter heartbreak and despair. Neither
of us mentioned anything about his visit the previous day. He knew
he was forgiven—mostly—but he shuffled a bit in his seat, a
telltale sign he was still anxious about something.

“What is it
Riley?” I wondered impatiently. It came from knowing him so well,
being able to tell exactly what he was thinking just from his body
movements. I looked up at him expectantly.

“Well, I
brought you something.” He admitted, his warm, dark eyes on my
face. “But I don’t know how you’re going to react to it. Well, I do
know how you’ll react, but I want you to keep an open mind.”

“Just give it
to me, and then we’ll see.”

“Okay.” He bent
down and pulled something from a bag beneath his seat. I peered
over the edge of the table curiously. And then, he set a book down
on the table in front of me. “Here.” He offered.

The book was
thick and heavy. I picked up the soft leather cover and inspected
the front. Holy Bible was imprinted in thick gold letters. I put
the book down.

“What the hell
is this?” I scoffed.

“The Bible.” He
answered imperviously.

“I know it’s a
Bible. Why are you giving it to me?”

“Well … you
said it was dark, right? Last night, when you were trying to
sleep?”

“Yes.” He had
no idea how dark. “So?”

“Maybe this
will help.” Riley shrugged.

“How? Does it
come with a nightlight?” I smirked and lit a cigarette, blowing the
smoke up over his head.

“No.” He shook
his head at my joke. “But it’s been a great source of comfort for
me. Maybe it will help you, too.”

I raised my
eyebrows. It was always staggering how much Riley had changed. It
never ceased to shock me. But he really did seem … peaceful.
Content, almost. I crossed my arms thoughtfully and sat back in my
chair.

“How does it
comfort you?”

“Well … it’s
just … it’s God, right? He’s what was missing in my life … and he’s
what’s missing in yours.”

“Okay ….” I
chuckled wryly. “If you say so.”

“Mackenzie,
just bear with me here. Why do you think you got addicted to drugs
in the first place?”

I shrugged. “I
don’t know … ‘cause they’re awesome? ‘ Cause they made me feel
really, really good … and when I did them … I don’t know …
everything was okay.”

“But you were
just medicating yourself … don’t you see? You’re covering up what’s
really missing inside of you, all the emptiness inside. Everyone is
born with this … this God shaped hole inside them. And we rush
around, trying to fill that hole with anything we can, anything
that satisfies us, however temporarily. But God is the only thing
that will fit there, that will fit and stay and truly satisfy
you—like nothing you’ve ever known before. His peace … it passes
all understanding.”

“So … drug
addicts are really just searching for God?”

“Not just drug
addicts, everyone. The good people that go about their good lives
without harming anyone and only trying to do what’s right … even
they have a hunger inside of them for God. But they don’t know it.
They worship music instead, or video games, or sports—movies,
money, clothes, people … cooking, even. Whatever they choose to
live their life for. But every single one of us, no matter how good
or bad, is in desperate need of God.”

I smirked again
as a thought occurred to me. “Even Marcy?”

“Especially
Marcy.” Riley smiled at me. He pushed the Bible across the table.
“Just, try reading it. See if anything speaks to you. It’s amazing
you know, once you discover him. You won’t understand how you’ve
been able to live without him for so long.”

I put my hand
on the soft leather cover and looked up at Riley. I didn’t know if
God was real or not, but if he was, he’d probably want nothing to
do with me. Not when I was so horrible, not when I was such a
miserable mess. Not after I’d pushed my boyfriend, the love of my
life, to kill himself in an attempt to save me. I was selfish and
brutal and … wrong. It felt like every part of me was wrong. But I
had decided to try ….

“You’re going
to be okay, Mackenzie.” Riley placed his warm hand on top of mine.
“I really believe that, you know.”

I stared down
at our hands for a moment. He stroked mine delicately with his
thumb, and for some reason, it made me uncomfortable. His dark eyes
gazed down at me with such tenderness, such affection … it was
unsettling. Undeserved. As causally as I could, I moved my hand
from his and tried to change the subject.

“So, what’s
Emily think of you being here?” I wondered.

“Oh, she
understands.” He answered flippantly. “She hopes you get
better.”

“She does?
Where is she, at your mom’s?”

“No, she’s back
at school. The semester started last week.”

“Wait, your
semester started already?” I blinked in surprise. “So what are you
still doing here?”

Riley scoffed.
“What, you think I’d just put you in here and then go back to
school like nothing ever happened? Give me a little credit.”

“You’re missing
your school?” I frowned. For some reason, this upset me. “Don’t
wreck your life for me Riley, I’m not worth it.”

“I’m not
wrecking my life. Man, you’re dramatic.” He laughed. “I can just
pick up where I left off next semester. No big deal.”

“Yeah, but,
you’ve worked so hard, and you really like it, I can tell—”

“Mackenzie,
just stop.” Riley shook his head at me. “All that matters to me
right now is that you get better. I’m not going anywhere, okay? So
just drop it.”

I stared at him
a moment. “Fine.” I wouldn’t ever admit it to him, but the selfish
part of me was nearly drunk with relief that he had chosen to stay.
For me. I honestly couldn’t imagine my life without him again,
without the subconscious comfort of knowing he was so close, only a
phone call away. How quickly I had come to rely on him. I needed
him now, even more than I had before.

We just looked
at each other for a moment. I stared into his deep, dark eyes as he
gazed at me. I wanted to thank him for everything—for putting up
with me, for trying to help me—but the words wouldn’t reach my
lips. The air felt tense, heavy.