Page 169 of Life of the Party

We got into the car and he started it up. I got settled in my seat, and when I spotted his stereo—the fancy faceplate with the blinking lights and flip-down cover, the memory flashed again. Me and him, singing Destiny’s Child. Dancing and laughing.

“Do you mind if I put on some music?” I asked, an idea brewing. I flipped open the glovebox and pulled out his thick black binder of CDs.

“You’re a free woman.” Riley smiled, pulling onto the road. “Giv’er.”

I went through the binder until I found it, pulling the CD from the sleeve.

“Destiny’s Child? Really?” Riley raised his eyebrows as I put the CD in the player.

“I’m trying to remember something,” I explained, skipping forward to the song and pressing play. Music flooded the cab, loud, bouncy.

Ladies leave your man at home

The club is full of ballers and their pockets full grown

And all you fellas leave your girl with her friends

‘Cause it’s eleven thirty and the club is jumpin’, jumpin’

“Remember this?” I asked, yelling to be heard.

Riley nodded, doing some of the dance moves we’d choreographed to prove it. I laughed at him, turning the song down. The music was familiar, nostalgic, even, but it wasn’t helping me remember anything new.

“It’s not working.” I sighed. “I’ve been trying to remember that one night…I know we were in the car, dancing to this song, drinking…I remember going to that party, taking those pills…but then everything else is just…gone.” I shrugged. “It never bugged me before, not knowing, but I can’t get the feeling out of my head, like I’m missing something important.” I stopped my rambling, looking over at Riley.

He was suddenly tense in his seat. His eyes fixed on the road. His jaw clenching.

“…Riley?”

He cleared his throat. “It’s not this song. Try Oasis.”

“Oasis?”

“Just trust me.”

I did as he said, searching through the binder until I found the disc. I exchanged CDs and Riley skipped forward. “Champagne Supernova” started playing, with the sound of ocean waves.

How many special people change?

How many lives are livin’ strange?

Where were you while we were getting high?

I gasped. I shut my eyes as the familiar melody flooded over me, grasping at memory, at the images suddenly flashing in my mind.

Strobe lights. My ribs, sore. That Top Hat guy again, his cheesy smile. Corduroy couch cushions rough beneath my cheek. Riley’s strong, warm arms around me.

His car. This song.

Riley kept glancing at me. Waiting for me, maybe, to piece it together. I shook my head. Everything was so out of order, so distorted, I couldn’t make any sense of it.

“I can’t…” I shook my head again. “Can you just tell me?”

Riley slowed for a stoplight. We were nearly out of the city, nearly to the highway that would take us home. He gripped the steering wheel, silent, debating.

“Are you sure you want to know?” He asked then, hesitant.

His words made my heart skip a beat. “Why wouldn’t I?”

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