Page 116 of Life of the Party

Her blood-red lips smiled at me in the mirror.

“What time is it?”

“I don’t know.” Charlie groaned. Her beautiful blonde curls were a tangled mess around her face, her makeup smudged beneath her eyes. She peeled her cheek from the carpeted floor. “Morning?”

“It’s too bright to be morning,” I argued, laying my arm over my eyes to keep out the blinding rays from the window. My throat was parched, it hurt to swallow. I tried to sit up, but my stomach muscles still ached from all the heaving and vomiting I’d done, a blur in my distant memory. “Can’t you see the clock?”

“No.”

“What time did we get to bed last night?” I wondered.

“I don’t know.”

I couldn’t really remember either. I knew it had been very, very late when Courtney dropped us off at home; when Charlie insisted we shoot up again. I’d been just high enough from the last batch that I hadn’t minded the needle so much that time, but I made Charlie do it for me—I couldn’t even look as the cold steel penetrated my skin. She was sloppier than Jack had been, but the results were the same, and we’d spent the rest of the night nodding off in the living room, apathetic and perfectly, wonderfully happy. Aside from the odd bout of crippling nausea, of course.

“Was I right, or what?” I wondered, risking the light to look over at my friend. “Did you like it? Wasn’t it great?”

“Better than great,” Charlie admitted. “So good. Do we have any left?”

“I don’t know. You cooked up our last one. Did you use it all?”

“I don’t think so.”

I rubbed my face with my hand, already craving more. “What time is it?”

Charlie laughed at me. “I still don’t know.”

“I’ve got to work tonight, and Grey’s getting in…” I started, stopping myself as Charlie’s face fell. I realized my mistake too late. If Grey was getting in, that meant Zack was getting in as well. She closed her eyes and frowned at my reminder.

“Sorry, Charlie.” I grimaced.

“It’s okay.” She shrugged. “Let’s do some more.” Her blue eyes lit up at the prospect. “Jack gave me more needles, they’re clean.”

“He did?” I couldn’t keep the eagerness out of my voice. With much effort, I sat up and peered at the clock. If I had even an hour to spare before work, I was going to do more heroin with her.

“It says it’s five-seventeen.” I frowned. “It can’t be five in the morning, can it? I feel like I’ve slept all day.”

Charlie just shrugged. Confused, I flipped on the TV to the cable guide. Then I realized why it felt like I’d slept all day. I had.

It was five-seventeen.PM.

“Oh, shit.” I looked at Charlie, aghast. “I’m like, over an hour late for work.”

Charlie grinned up at me wickedly. “I guess that means you’re not going.”

I bit my lip, lit a smoke and debated for a moment. I needed my job. I needed the money I made to support all of my habits, to keep living on my own. Surely, going in an hour late was better than not showing up at all. They’d probably forgive me.

But Charlie was already getting out the supplies to whip us up another batch. At the very prospect of more heroin, all my responsible deliberating went right out the window. All I could think about was how good it felt, how in mere moments, I wouldn’t even care about missing work.

And then my decision was made.

CHAPTER 48

“I love your hair. Have I ever told you that?” Grey wondered, his fingers trailing through my dark, silky tresses. It felt amazing, sending shivers up my spine. I smiled.

“No, you haven’t.”

“Hmm. I guess there’s a lot I haven’t told you.”

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