Page 56 of Life of the Party

We stopped and faced each other, the nearby streetlight shining softly over us, lighting our faces and casting our shadows long behind.

“Tell me why,” I demanded.

“Why? Why…I hurt you?” Grey glowered down at the ground for a moment. “Because.” He smirked sadly. “You’re so young. So…innocent. But not in a bad way, in a good way…like no one I’ve ever known before. I mean, look at you.” He did just that, his eyes soft and tender as they swept my face. “You’re so beautiful.”

My voice was faint with amazement. “You think I’m beautiful?”

He looked up at me, into my eyes, and gave a slight nod. “But that’s why I tried to…ignore what I felt. Why I tried to deny it. I mean…I could never deserve someone like you. You’re young, and sweet, and you’ve got your whole life ahead of you, and I…I’m just some old loser trying desperately not to grow up.”

“You are not a loser.” I denied vehemently, grasping his arm. “Are you kidding me? I’ve never met anyone as talented as you. You’re…amazing.”

Silence descended again. Grey crossed his arms, thinking. I watched him warily, my heart pounding furiously, forcing myself to hold back, barely containing my happiness. Waiting, biting my lip, staring up into his face.

“I know it’s wrong,” Grey spoke then. “I know it’s selfish. But I’ve never wanted anything so badly in my whole life. Not as bad as I want you.” His blue eyes blazed sincerely. “I can’t deny it anymore. But I’ve been horrible to you, so if you can’t forgive me…if you never want to see me again…I understand.”

I smiled. I couldn’t help it, I never could. I loved him.

I reached out and grasped his hand, gently, mindful of the bruised, swollen knuckles he’d battered fighting Brad. He’d fought Brad for me. For me.

“Grey, the only thing about this that could ever be wrong,” I stared up into his eyes, so he’d know I was truly serious, so he’d know I meant every word with my whole, entire heart. “Would be never seeing you again.”

He seemed overwhelmed. He just stared at me, his eyes sweeping my face, and I smiled in return, a happy giggle escaping my lips. With his fingers, he brushed the hair from my cheek, and then lifted my chin with the palm of his hand.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispered.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, bringing us closer still.

“Please.” My fingers curled into his dark, messy hair.

And when his lips touched mine, they were curved in a smile.

CHAPTER 23

I was on cloud nine. That’s the only way to describe it. Whenever I had a spare moment throughout the day, my mind would instantly whir to that night, would go over each and every word Grey had said, every move he’d made, every look he’d given me. Every kiss we’d shared. My heart would nearly burst. A wide, happy grin would spread over my face and I’d sigh with excitement and utter contentment.

I did this in the middle of our English exam. I just couldn’t focus on reading comprehension anymore, so instead I thought of Grey. I spent half the morning in my own little world, absently twisting a strand of hair through my fingers, dreamy and far off. When the teacher warned us only twenty minutes remained, I snapped back into it and hastily finished the rest of my test, guessing most the answers and assuming on the others. I hoped I would graduate.

Sadly, I hadn’t seen Grey since. He’d been with the band in the city all weekend meeting with their new label, and now my parents had me on lockdown for exams. They wouldn’t even let me work, I was only allowed out to write my tests and then I had to head straight home to resume studying for the rest.

At least…I was supposed to be studying.

“Save me. Save me, please.” I complained into the phone instead, lying back on my bed, my legs crossed, my foot kicking at the empty air.

“It’s only for a few more days.” Charlie laughed at my dramatics. “You’re so close to being done. Just suck it up.”

“Yeah.” I twirled a lock of hair around my fingers. “How’s work? Do you miss me?” I smiled hopefully. “Has Grey…asked about me?”

“He did. I told him your parents were holding you hostage until after diplomas.”

“Yeah.” I sighed, rolling my eyes. Why my parents were suddenly exercising such strict discipline with only a week left of school, I didn’t understand. It wasn’t like they cared what I did any other time—really, I hardly ever saw them besides the mandatory Sunday-family-day-Blake-and-Marcy-torture-day. I wasn’t happy about their new rules either. I’d put up a fight, a good fight at that, but they’d ganged up on me, working as a “team” to ensure I knew who was boss. It was possibly the most frustrating hour of my life. I couldn’t wait to be old enough to do whatever the hell I wanted without having to listen to anyone ever again.

To make matters worse, Dad had taken the whole week off work to parent me through exams, offering plentiful, ever-so-helpful (and unasked-for) studying tips which included (to my eternal delight) what always worked for Marcy.

“Only a few more tests to go before graduation,” he’d observed when I grumbled my way into the house after school. “What are you studying tonight? Math?”

I made a face and crossed my arms, glaring at the floor.

“Oh, stop being so dramatic.” Dad chuckled. “It’s one week of your life. It won’t kill you to take a break from going out every night, will it?”

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