Page 138 of Life of the Party

I hadn’t really been happy. I couldn’t be happy. I wasn’t capable of being happy.

Not without the drugs.

Through it all, my craving growled in protest, famished, flaring with need. Screaming in my ear. More important than the rest. More important than anything.

“It’s okay, Mackenzie.” Grey was nearly desperate, listening to me sob. “We’re almost home. They’ll forgive you, they will.”

“They won’t,” I cried. “They won’t. And it’s my fault. It’s all my fault…”

CHAPTER 55

By the time we made it back to our room, I was calmer. My breath still hitched in my throat, but it was nothing like the racking, heart-wrenching sobs that had broken from my body. I watched Grey, sniffling and trying to catch my breath as he hurriedly broke open a red rubber balloon and took a large chunk from the tarry substance inside.

I was desperate for the heroin. Sick and getting sicker by the minute.

Grey’s features were tense as he worked. I noticed he took enough for both of us.

“Are you okay, Mackenzie?” He asked worriedly, looking up from his actions just long enough to assess my expression. I must’ve looked terrible, I probably had mascara running all the way to my chin, but he seemed relieved by whatever he saw.

“Yeah,” my voice was still hoarse from crying. I held my arms around myself to try and keep the nausea at bay. “I’m okay.”

“That was pretty intense.” He let out a breath, as if he’d been holding it this whole time. “What do you think your parents will do now?”

Inwardly, I cringed. I didn’t want to think about them. Every time I shut my eyes, I saw again the look of utter revulsion on my dad’s face…the deep, aching disappointment in my mom’s gaze. I shook my head free from the vision.

“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “They’ll probably do what they always do. Nothing.”

“They wouldn’t…call the cops on you, would they?”

“No.” I adamantly refused the idea. “No. Are you kidding? Think of what their friends would say. No, with my parents, its more…let’s just pretend this didn’t happen. Let’s just sweep this under the rug.”

Grey nodded. “I thought it might be something like that.”

“Yeah.” I didn’t want to think about them anymore. I tried not to remember how good our day together had been, how loved and accepted I’d felt, before… We sat in silence as Grey struck the lighter beneath the spoon. I watched him eagerly. I knew that none of this would matter in a few seconds, that the whole scene would seem like a far-off, distant nightmare. One that held no threat, one I could think about again without it scaring me anymore.

“I’m sorry I lost it.” I apologized, biting my lip. Sweat was beading on my brow. “I don’t know what came over me. Talk about dramatic.” I tried to smile at my ridiculousness, tried to seem light-hearted for him. It came out as a grimace.

“It’s okay. I mean, you freaked me out a little…but I understand.” Grey looked up at me with avid concern, his blue eyes penetrating my gaze. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I am. I am okay.” I assured him. “Seriously. I just need to get high.”

“Yeah, I know, but…” He sighed again, “maybe we should think about getting off the drugs. For real this time.”

“Yeah.” I agreed easily. “Sure.” But the words held no threat to me. That’s all they were, just words, and we both knew it. Just more empty promises. We couldn’t have quit the heroin then, even if we wanted to. I couldn’t anyway. I needed it. I needed it because I was afraid to be sober, afraid to face everything that happened; what I’d become. I needed it to forget the little piece of me that died the moment my mother opened up the bathroom door. It was my problem. It was my solution.

Wordlessly, Grey seemed to understand.

Once the needle plunged into my vein everything was good again, just like I knew it would be. Then I was on my back, floating on a sea of sweetness, where nothing could touch me but the strong, warm sun on my face. I knew I should be upset, I knew I should feel sad, but with the heroin fresh in my veins, racing through them, erasing all the negativity, it was all too easy to forget.

Maybe Grey needed it, too. He never left me once to shoot up alone, and whenever I’d sober up enough to hold my arm out for more, it wasn’t long before he joined me again. We lived in a slackened state of total peace upon his bed.

We stayed that way for a long, long time.

“Mackenzie?” There was a soft rap on the door. “Hey, Mac, are you up?”

“Hmmm…” I moaned into the mattress. “What?” I croaked, opening my bleary eyes and squinting at the door. It was Alex, looking apologetic. His voice dropped to a whisper.

“There’s someone here to see you. That Riley guy?”

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