Page 16 of Life of the Party

“Sorry. I forgot everything’s about you.” Riley’s voice oozed sarcasm.

I shook my head and resumed my window-watching. “Whatever. Forget it.”

I didn’t want to fight with him. I just wanted Riley the way he was before, the way we were before. Everything was changing so fast. Too fast. I still didn’t understand it.

“Why do you need to quit everything, anyway?” I broached lightly. “So you like to have a little fun. There’s nothing wrong with that. You’re young. You’re allowed.”

“Are you kidding me? Remember the other night? That’s not my idea of fun.” Riley turned his dark eyes to me. “That trip scared me straight. I’m not the same person anymore. I don’t feel the same. I don’t even want the same things.” He looked at me pointedly. “Can’t you understand that? I feel like I’ve been given a…second chance. A chance to get out while I still can. What if I never get another?”

My gaze fell to his hands as we pulled into the parking lot, his knuckles white with earnest on the steering wheel. Marvelling regretfully at his words. The gravity of them.

It felt like I didn’t even know him anymore. I’d never seen this side of him before.

I stared back out the window, biting my lip in concern. Riley wasn’t going through a temporary phase like I’d hoped. He was making a life change. He was done—done with it all, done with the partying and the drinking and the smoking and the fun.

For the first time in our history, I felt completely different from him.

I wasn’t ready to be done. I loved what we did; I lived for the weekend, for our Friday afternoon farmyard tradition. To be stoned and laugh and drink. To be wild and crazy and experience everything. That’s what I wanted out of life.

I wanted it with Riley.

“You’re ruining everything.” I blurted suddenly—rash, panicked. Rejecting the bleakness of a future without him. Why did he have to have that stupid mushroom trip? Who was I going to hang out with now?

Riley glared at me, his eyebrows raised. “I’m ruining everything?” He stared at me a moment, scoffing in disbelief. “The only thing I’m ruining is your good time. You…you don’t get that I nearly died the other night. I’ve never been that fucking scared, Mac. I’m lucky and thankful to be alive and I need to change before I totally lose control and turn out just like my father…” His voice broke, and he looked away from me, gripping the steering wheel again.

I stared at him, speechless, at a total loss for words.

He recovered quickly, shutting his eyes in exasperation. “You…you’ve got to be the most selfish person I’ve ever known. If you cared for me at all, even a fraction of what I feel for you, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. You’d understand—hell, maybe you’d even be proud of me. But no. It’s all about you and your precious fun.”

“Riley, I—”

“You can’t Riley your way out of this one.” He shook his head. “You want to smoke so bad, Mackenzie?” He turned to me. “Find yourself another ride then.”

The hinges squeaked suddenly, the car door slammed loudly, and then Riley was gone, stalking across the parking lot without looking back, his arms and shoulders rigid with anger. I felt tears well as I watched him walk away. I wanted to get out of the car and follow him, to yell and scream and plead my case like I normally did when we fought, but it was different this time. This time I felt utterly useless. I knew no matter what I said or what I did, it wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t put us back the way we were.

I stayed frozen in the passenger seat of Riley’s beat-up old car, totally alone—a taste of the inevitable—and I started to cry. I cried because I didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to stop him from leaving me. I cried because I knew, deep down, that everything Riley said about me was true. Everything he accused me of. I was selfish; I did everything for all the wrong reasons. I felt tears well up, spill over; I felt them warm on my face. I cried because I was a terrible friend. I cried because I did care for Riley, deeply, beneath it all.

And I cried because I knew we would never be the same.

The morning was horribly, hideously long. With the size of our school, it was inevitable to share nearly every class, as Riley and I did, but instead of our normal places, he chose to sit as far away from me as possible.

It hurt, and every time he did it, tears welled again. I hated having people mad at me.

My friends, anyway. Especially Riley.

I made it through the morning, and then at lunch, I decided to mend things. To beg and grovel and do whatever it took to make him like me again. I waited by his locker, leaning impatiently. I sat on the floor. I even took my homework out for something to do while I waited. I missed three or four lunchtime cigarettes, but he never came.

Finally, at the warning bell, I spotted him. The classroom door across the hall flew open and students started pouring out, Riley amongst them, laughing like nothing was at all wrong in the world, like he hadn’t had a devastating fight with his best friend.

He was laughing with another girl.

My eyes opened wide in panic. I got to my feet, staring as they laughed together, as she put a hand on his arm, as his lips mouthed, “Thank you,” and then they hugged.

I swallowed hard. Thank you for what? For the best sex ever in that classroom? For being better than Mackenzie, fulfilling a part of me she never could?

Was this the girl he’d hooked up with? She didn’t seem like the type. I scrutinized her, critiquing her instantly, comparing our features quickly to judge how threatened I should feel. She was shorter than me and bigger, her round face pleasant. She wore jeans, a plain brown t-shirt, and nondescript footwear…boots, maybe? Not a fashionista, for sure. Her hair was a colour between brown and blond, completely natural and long, straight. She wore little makeup, but I was chagrined to admit she was pretty without it. A medium threat, then.

I shook my own dark, curly locks around my shoulders and waited for Riley to approach. Practicing my best please-don’t-be-mad-at-me eyes.

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