Page 109 of Life of the Party

“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 you’ll be careful tonight. That’s all.”

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

“I’m not lecturing. I just want you to take it easy, Mac; I know what you’re like.”

“You do? How’s 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 elementary when 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.”

“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.

“All the other kids brought in maybe thirty or forty UPC’s. I think there was one that had a hundred or something. Then you came with…seven-hundred and thirty-nine?”

“Yes!” I laughed out loud at the memory. I’d terrorized our neighbours out of their garbage for weeks, unable to rest until that shiny red bike was mine. “I won, didn’t I?”

“That’s what I mean. When you get your head wrapped around something, you don’t quit. You know? That’s what worries me.”

“What?”

“I don’t know. It’s not like turning eighteen really changes things for you, does it? You’ve been going to clubs this whole time. I don’t know how to explain it. I’ve just had this…this nagging feeling of…dread for you lately. That sounds lame, I know.”

“You’re really that worried?”

“Yeah. I don’t try to be, but I just can’t help it.”

“Riley, I can take care of myself.” I rolled my eyes. “Honestly. I’m fine.”

“I know…just promise me you’ll be careful, okay? It would set my mind at ease, just knowing you’ll try.”

“Okay, fine.” I sighed. “I promise I’ll be careful. Okay?”

“Okay.” Riley still sounded doubtful. I didn’t know what else to do for him, how else to alleviate this totally unfounded concern. He sighed heavily, like he was unsatisfied, like my promise really hadn’t eased his mind like he thought it would.

“Well, I should go. I’m supposed to be meeting Emily. But it was nice to talk to you.”

“Yeah, you too. Hey, Riley?”

“Yeah?”

“I could never forget about you, either.”

I could hear the smile in his voice. “Bye, Mac.”

When I hung up the phone, I was happy. I sighed contentedly, laid back against the pillows and lit another cigarette, going over our conversation in my mind.

The longer I sat by myself in the dimly lit hotel room, thinking of Riley, the lonelier I became. His warm, familiar voice faded from my ears, leaving me empty, hollow, alone. Suddenly I felt all the hurt, all the heartsickness I’d managed to avoid all summer, the throbbing pain of missing Riley I could no longer ignore.

It was like the emotion was intensified from all my months of pretending it didn’t exist, like it had strengthened itself, somehow, pushed away in the farthest corners of my mind. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to fill the empty void within me, and it felt like I couldn’t breathe.

I missed Riley so much, it physically hurt.

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