Page 83 of Life of the Party

“I know,” I realized. It all happened so easily, too easily, I couldn’t believe it. “I will, I’m sorry. I just…I had such a horrible day. I didn’t even think about how much I was doing. I just kept going, to try and make it better. You know?”

“Yeah, but you gotta take it easy. You can’t go so hard all the time. You could’ve really hurt yourself. If I hadn’t been here…” He cringed at the thought. “I don’t know. Maybe we should take you to the hospital.”

“No, no, no.” I shook my head. “I’m fine, I promise.” I was achy and kind of nauseous, but I didn’t feel like I was dying anymore. I still felt a bit buzzed actually, dizzy from all the coke. “I’ll be fine. I won’t do anymore for a while, okay?”

He hesitated. “You promise?”

“Promise.” I agreed quickly, almost too quickly. I wondered fleetingly how long we were talking about. I hoped hours and not days. Even now, after all I’d been through, after the sheer volume of cocaine I’d done that day, I still wanted more. I still craved the feeling that cocaine gave me…the superhero-ness of it all. I fumbled with a cigarette from my nightstand and lit it instead, hoping the nicotine would help to tide me over.

“You’ll tell me if anything changes, right? Like if you suddenly can’t breathe or you go numb or something, let me know, okay?”

“Of course.” I nodded.

Grey sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, but he seemed convinced. He pulled himself back onto the bed and lay next to me, resting his arm around my waist. He seemed reluctant to let me go for even a second, but I didn’t mind it at all. I welcomed his warm body beside me, smiling at his proximity.

“So, you wanna tell me what happened to make your day so terrible? You were just getting dresses, right, for the wedding?” He asked then, his voice low beside my ear.

“Yeah.” I blew my smoke out in a hiss.

“And?”

“And…ugh, it’s just my stupid family. They’re so…I don’t know. They were just like, super bitchy all day, and then my mom made me go and sit in the car, like I was a five-year-old on a time-out or something. She basically threatened to kick me out of Marcy’s wedding if I don’t behave myself. As if I’d really want to ruin my sister’s wedding. I’m not that horrible.” I scoffed. “It’s just so…it’s so frustrating.”

“Why would she say that?”

“I don’t know.” I shook my head and thought for a moment, blowing my smoke out, watching it dissipate in the air. Grey sat by patiently, waiting for me to continue.

“She thinks I party too much. But so what? I’m young, I like to have fun. That doesn’t mean I’m going to get all wasted at my sister’s wedding and make a scene or something.”

“Maybe she’s just worried about you.” Grey decided. I shot him a look.

“No.” I scoffed. “That is definitely not it. If she’s worried about anyone, it’s my sister. She doesn’t want me getting in the way of Marcy’s happiness. Heaven forbid.” I rolled my eyes.

“Why would you think that?” Grey asked, resting his head on his fist, watching me, his eyes narrowing as he listened. I glared at him again, but he held his hand up defensively. “Hey, I’m just trying to understand.”

“Because, Grey. When it comes to Marcy, I don’t count. I mean, you should see her. She’s perfect, she’s always been perfect. Everything any parent could ever want in a daughter, she’s gorgeous and smart, and she’s going to be a doctor…I just, I can’t compete with her.” I shook my head in frustration. “Look, I don’t want to get into it, it’d take me all night. Just, trust me, okay?”

“Okay…” Grey changed the subject. “So, you came home, and you were already pissed, and when you heard we’d be leaving…”

“That was kind of the breaking point.” I sighed. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t cool of me. Honestly, I hate that you’re leaving, but I am happy for you.” I looked up to show him I meant it. I even smiled. “It’s awesome you’re going to record your music, I just wish it wasn’t for so long.”

“Well, while we’re being honest with each other,” Grey smirked, “I gotta admit, I’m kind of relieved to be missing the wedding. I mean, it sucks to let you down, but I hate that shit. I really do. The suit, the speeches, everything.”

I giggled at him. “So do I.” I groaned. “Maybe I should ruin it all.”

“Didn’t you say you were going to be a…ballerina, or something?”

I rolled my eyes. “Grey, we’re basically wearing tutus. And the shoes have these long ribbons; they lace up to here…” I lifted my pant leg to show him, and as I did, I noticed a deep red welt covering most of my calf, raised and sore to the touch.

“Oh shit,” I spoke in amazement, fairly alarmed by the welt. “Did I really do that to myself?”

“I was afraid of that.” Grey’s handsome face was regretful as he inspected the wound. “I tried to stop it, but you were right between the dresser and the bed, and you bashed into them pretty hard.”

“Oh, man,” I lifted the other pant leg to reveal more bruises and smaller welts. Morbidly curious, I unbuttoned my jeans and pulled them off, my limbs groaning at me in the process. My thighs weren’t nearly as bad; there were some marks and a big bruise on my knee. I winced as Grey pressed lightly on it.

Gently, he took his hand and ran it softly up the length of my leg. A wicked gleam lit his blue eyes as he did so, a smirk curling his lips.

“We’d better get that shirt off too, just in case.” He decided. I giggled and held my arms up so he could tug the tank top over my head. It looked like I had bruised my ribs a bit, but it didn’t hurt to breathe in, so Grey was satisfied for my health—but I could tell he wasn’t happy about my wounds.

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