Page 152 of Life of the Party

“I think so. Mackenzie?” Riley’s face was close, so close to mine. I blinked up at him, confused by the warm, chocolate eyes gazing down at me. They were filled with tears, with agony. Why could I see him? And why the hell washecrying? I was the one who was supposed to be dead.

He picked me up in his arms, gingerly, as if I were fragile, easily breakable. I let him; I had no energy to fight him at all. We left the bathroom and started down the hall, rushing, Charlie behind us.

I tried to pay attention to the chaos that ensued once we reached the main floor and my parents learned of my state—the frantic, dramatic worry of their voices mingling together, a cacophony of concern surrounding me. I was still too overcome by the sweet waves of bliss to care, too out of it to really hear them. The heroin burning through my swollen veins was intense, it was good—I hadn’t been that high in ages. Warm and comfortable and safe in Riley’s arms, I gave into the numbing heat, nodding in drowsy pleasure. I shut my eyes and leaned against his hard chest and succumbed, more content, more peaceful than I’d been for days.

Wearily, I opened my eyes. Just a bit at first, and I didn’t understand a thing. Stupidly, I blinked into the dark, trying to place myself. The last thing I could remember were Riley’s dark brown eyes hovering over me, filled with tears. I turned my head, relived to see he was with me still—his face a dim silhouette against the dashboard lights, his eyebrows furrowed toward the road.

We were in a car. My car, I realized. I sat up a bit, my neck aching in protest from the odd position I’d been resting in. It made me groan.

Riley looked over at me sharply. I glanced back at him, achy and uncomfortable.

“You’re awake.” He observed. “How are you feeling?”

“Terrible.”

“You had me worried there for a minute.”

I shrugged, nodding drowsily. Riley fell silent. He didn’t seem to know what else to say, but I wasn’t up for talking anyway. I leaned my head back, dozing in and out, shutting my eyes, half-listening as the DJ from the local station prattled over the radio in his low, monotonous tenor.

“This one goes out to all those Serpentine fans grieving the loss of lead singer Grey Lewis, who passed away New Year’s Day.” He was saying. “Funeral services were held today for the guitar-wielding local hero, and their debut CD, Seize the Day, has been selling out of stores ever since the late singer’s tragic death. Here’s the latest single from the album. Enjoy. This one’s for you, Grey.”

That woke me up. I sat up, shocked. Every muscle in my body tensed as the all-too-familiar intro began—the beautiful streaming guitar and the melodic piano blending together into the world’s most perfect song. Tears warmed my eyes. I held my breath, waiting in agonizing anticipation for the bittersweet moment I would hear his voice again, when it would come to me from beyond the grave.

I shut my eyes, like a masochist, and focused on nothing but his raspy, velvet sound.

A sound I loved with all my heart. A sound I lived to hear.

“Mackenzie, I hope you miss me

When I’m gone, when I’m gone.

I gotta go now, but you need to know how

Much you’re loved, how much you’re loved…

Mackenzie…”

His voice—Grey’s beautiful, unmistakable voice—ripped through my mind and tore through my soul, leaving a wake of burning fire smouldering in my wounds.

The pain was all the more potent for the meaning behind his words, words I couldn’t fathom. Grey loved me. I was precious to him; the song was about me. He loved me. So why did he leave me? Why? The sound of his voice was the only thing in the entire world I wished to hear. But I wanted it from him. I wanted his lips to move, I wanted his mouth to speak. And he never would again.

“Stop the car, Riley,” I ordered. My breath was coming in gasps.

“What?”

“Stop the car!” I shouted.“Stop the fucking car!”

The brakes locked, the wheels skidded across the icy highway. By the time we slowed to a stop, I was already out of the car.

Damn, it was freezing. The icy wind whipped around my legs, my hair, taking my breath away. Traffic whizzed by. I ran to the side of the road. So mad. So furious. I screamed into the wind—shrill, crazy. I took off my shoes and threw them as far as I could, oblivious to the crusty frozen snow stabbing my bare feet.

“I won’t miss you!”I shouted.“I won’t! I hate you! I hate you!”Liar. Liar. You love him.

I sunk to my knees, defeated, sobbing as the pain gripped my heart, its clutch as icy as the freezing wind.

“Mackenzie,” Riley grasped me by the elbow. I hadn’t noticed him approaching. “Come on. Let’s get back in the car.”

I tried to shrug him off. “Just leave me here, Riley.” I sobbed.

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