Page 168 of Life of the Party

The next day, when I opened my eyes, it was all over. I was free. Rehab was done.

I was going home.

All morning, my heart thumped in my chest, and not with excitement. I should’ve been like Allison, jumping off the walls eager at the prospect of going home. I think most people usually were. I wasn’t. I was anything but excited. Terrified, more like.

When once these walls had seemed stifling and claustrophobic, now I would’ve given anything to stay within the safety of their confines, away from the world waiting at the doorstep. It wasn’t to be, though. Riley was coming to take me home, back to my parents. I was anxious about seeing them again, I didn’t know what to expect, how to act, who to be around now.

Nothing made me more nervous than the thought of being out on my own. I was afraid of getting out. Of having a choice. I was afraid I’d choose wrong.

A pit of anxiety gnawed at my stomach. As if taunting me, the craving for heroin flared up inside, like it knew we’d taste fresh air again soon, like it knew nothing but my own willpower would stop me from finding some dope and injecting it straight into my veins. It was testing my strength, trying to make me cave. I prayed fervently that somehow, somewhere, I’d find the will not to give in.

“Hey.” There was a gentle rapping on my door. “Are you decent?”

“Hey, Ry.” I grabbed my makeup off the counter and headed back into my bedroom. The instant I saw him, I smiled. I couldn’t help myself, he just had that affect on me.

Then it hit me. This was it. The last time we’d be together. Riley was getting on a plane that very night, heading back to school. The reminder made me blanche.

“Mac?”

I shook my head and gave him a smile. “Sorry…I was just….”

“Stressing?” He smiled knowingly at me.

I felt my cheeks blush crimson and nodded guiltily. “Yeah. Stupid, right?”

“Not at all. A little fear is good. It shows you want the right things.”

“Does it?”

“I don’t know.” Riley smiled. “Just trying to sound wise.”

“Oh.” I tried to laugh, but it sounded strained. I threw some last-minute things into the suitcase lying open on my bed and zipped it up. It reminded me vaguely of my birthday, when Riley called me out of the blue, and I’d decided, in a panic, to go to him. How desperate I’d been for him.

“You look really pretty today, Mac,” Riley stated suddenly, interrupting my thoughts with his warm, familiar voice. I could feel his eyes on me.

His words were flustering. Secretly, I was glad he’d noticed. I’d actually put some real effort into myself, mostly because I needed something to preoccupy my thoughts, but also because I wanted to look…good for him. Just once, before he left.

My makeup was all done, my face fuller now, my hair shiny again, hanging in curls around my shoulders. My clothes were still a little baggy, but not as loose as they had been. I wore blue jeans, my old black skater shoes, and my blue fireball sweater. It seemed right—comfortable, fitting, an outfit I used to wear all the time before Charlie glammed me up. More…me.

“So, I don’t look as scared as I feel?”

Riley picked up my suitcase and flashed me a grin. “I didn’t say that.”

I laughed and followed him to the doorway. There, I turned and cast one long, last look at my old room—at that chapter of my life, over now.

I sighed and flicked off the light, shutting the door behind me.

CHAPTER 68

I said my goodbyes to the staff and to some of the other girls, to my group leader and my old, decrepit therapist. They all wished me the best and gave me encouraging hugs, approving my decision to move into a sober-living facility before totally striking out on my own. It was the best chance I had for staying sober. I had to take it. I needed all the help I could get.

So then, armed with a deep, exciting and newfound love for God, the various coping skills I’d been taught, and ninety days of sobriety, I was released back into society.

It was the beginning of April. I breathed deeply the air outside, softer now, the harsh crust of winter spent. It was still cold out, but the sun’s rays held warmth, and I could feel the promise of spring in the air as Riley loaded my bag into the back of his car—the promise of life, of renewal.

“Ready for this?” he asked me with a grin. Now dressed for the weather, Riley wore a dark red toque and wide black sunglasses. When he smiled at me, I barely recognized him; he was just so…handsome. I dropped my gaze with a pang of regret.

“Yeah.” I lied, forcing a smile. “So ready.”

---