Page 130 of Life of the Party

“It was good.” He shook his head. “I almost dropped my guitar when I looked out and saw you in…this.” He motioned to my scanty uniform and let out a whistle. “Damn, you’re hot. Do you think this boyfriend will mind if I take you home tonight?”

“Who cares?” I shrugged happily.

He grinned. “So you’re really working here now?”

“Yeah, I guess so. This Walter guy just gave me a job, like, on the spot. And Charlie said she makes great tips. I think it’ll be okay.”

“Good.” He kissed me again. “I’ll be in the back. Come get me when you’re done. I’m taking you home with me tonight, boyfriend be damned.”

I giggled as he left me and was shortly swallowed up by the crowd. I could still spot him, though I couldn’t see him. I just had to follow all the girls craning their necks for a better look.

CHAPTER 53

The thought of quitting heroin didn’t cross our minds anymore, not when we could function as we did. We forced ourselves to function, determined to have the best of both worlds.

Whenever Grey and I woke up, either at his house or mine, we’d shoot up almost immediately. It wasn’t just a want anymore—it was a need, for the all too familiar sickness was always at bay, waiting to strike if we went without for too long. The rest of the day would pass in a blur of total, utter bliss. If I had to work, I’d start doing cocaine towards the evening to get ready for my shift. It gave me the energy I needed, the spunk required to make it through.

The tips were even better at the Aurora than they had been at the Red Wheat (on the weekends anyway) so I could support all my drug habits and pay my rent. Grey’s band played there a lot—some weekends, some weekdays—so I was essentially getting paid to watch nearly all of their shows, and he was getting paid to play them.

As soon as my shift was over, I’d hurry to meet Grey at home, where he’d be waiting for me with a fresh batch all prepared, and then we’d shoot ourselves into oblivion once again. It was a fine balance, one that was always teetering towards the loss of control. Somehow we were able to make it work. We had to make it work.

Charlie was trying desperately to get over Zack. The evidence was obvious. If Grey and I stayed at my house overnight, it was inevitable to see or hear some strange guy heading out the door. Grey didn’t like it; he didn’t like the thought of strange men coming and going all hours of the night. We started spending more nights at his house because of it, which I thought was a bit of an overreaction, but one I didn’tmind. I was worried about Charlie but she seemed happy—she was always out clubbing, drinking, living it up. So I let it go.

Courtney was now a constant in our lives. She and Charlie were nearly inseparable. I always felt a pang of jealousy when I saw them together, talking and sharing secrets and laughing at private jokes. The way Charlie and I used to be. Even though we’d managed to patch up our relationship, we were never as close as we had been, and I feared we never would be again. That’s why—though it did hurt my feelings—I wasn’t really surprised when Charlie asked me if Courtney could move in with us.

“But, where will she stay?” I wondered.

“She can sleep in my room,” Charlie suggested. “Or, if, I mean, since you’re at Grey’s house all the time anyway…maybe she could stay…”

I didn’t let her finish. “I’ll talk to Grey.” I interrupted.

He was amazingly receptive to the idea. I was surprised, I thought guys weren’t into that kind of thing, not until they were ready to settle down, anyway.

Grey just smirked at me.

“You should move in. You’re here all the time anyway.”

“Are you sure you’re not just saying that?” I argued. “If I hadn’t asked, would you have asked?”

“Yeah, sure. I just didn’t think about it.”

“Really?” I wondered doubtfully.

“Yes.” He rolled his eyes at me. “Would it help if I said it?”

“Yes.”

“Mackenzie, would you move in with me? Please?”

“Why, Grey,” I exclaimed. “I thought you’d never ask.”

By the end of November, I was officially living with Grey. It really was no different than before, since I spent most of my time there anyway. I was sad to move out, though. Every excited giggle on Courtney’s lips hurt me just a little more, shoved the knife in just a little deeper. She was always hanging around on the edges, watching as we loaded up my things, impatiently waiting for me to get the hell out of there.

Charlie hugged me when I left.

“I’ll miss you, Mac. And this doesn’t change anything, you know.”

“Yeah.” I nodded glumly. She punched me playfully in the arm.

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