Page 66 of Life of the Party

Since my Aunt and Uncle arrived, we’d all been acting like nothing happened. Like my dad hadn’t kicked me out and I wasn’t leaving as soon as possible. It was fairly amusing to me that we instinctively put on a show of being a happy, functional family around other people. At least we could agree on that.

We may have been acting civilly, but the tension was still there. Mom still hadn’t forgiven Dad for kicking me out without consulting her first. Dad was clearly still pissed at me, and I was frustrated with him, but for the moment it simmered just below the surface, safe and out of sight.

He had—to my horror of horrors—driven me straight to school for my last test. He picked me up afterwards as well. When I walked out the front doors, his car was there, idling, as if he expected me to make a run for it and was fully prepared to chase me down. We spent the drive, both there and back, in total heated silence.

“Do you need me to pick you up later?” Mom was wondering as I got out of the car.

“No. Charlie can give me a ride.”

“Okay. Four o’clock, then, right?”

“Right. See you then.” I shut the door and grabbed my stuff from the backseat, draping my dress over my arm as I started up the old, wobbly stairs.

Charlie opened the front door when I was halfway there.

“Hey!” Charlie greeted me excitedly, a wide smile spread over her face. “Or should I say, hey, roomy!” She held out her hands to me.

“Hey…what?” I stopped at the top of the stairs.

“I said hey, roomy,” Charlie repeated with a giggle. “Welcome home.”

“What?” I was speechless with surprise. A smile broke over my face. “You want me to live with you? What about Kat?”

“What about Kat?” She made a face. “This’ll give her the perfect excuse to move in with that loser boyfriend of hers.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mac, it makes perfect sense. Don’t you want to?”

“Are you kidding me?” I laughed excitedly. “Of course I do.”

“Then welcome to your new abode.” She opened up the door for me with a flourish. “Kat’s being such a pain in the ass, I can’t wait until she’s gone.”

“Me either, now.” I looked around Charlie’s small, tidy space, appreciating it even more since it would soon be mine to share. I couldn’t have imagined anything better.

“I’m so excited.” I gushed. “When do you think Kat will move out?”

“I’ll probably give her until the end of the month. So, a week or so, is that cool?”

“It’ll give me time to pack. How much is the rent?”

Charlie flipped on her stereo. “Push”by Matchbox Twenty was playing. “It’s six hundred a month, so you’d pay three hundred, and then half the power and utilities and stuff, and then groceries or whatever. But if you’re working full-time, you shouldn’t have any problem affording it.”

“Awesome.” I lit a smoke and smiled. “Will I be able to get more shifts at work?”

“Oh, yeah. That shouldn’t be a problem either. I’m so excited about this Mac, you have no idea.” Charlie moved around her kitchen, plugging in a set of hot rollers and setting her makeup case on the counter. She pulled a baggie full of white powder out of a drawer and poured some onto a small square mirror, then took her credit card and started breaking up the chunks and crushing it fine. I giggled excitedly, watching her work with eager impatience.

“To celebrate your happy graduation and your new home,” she passed me the straw, “and the beginning of the awesomest summer ever!”

“I’ll snort to that.” Long gone was any kind of pause or hesitation; I took the straw immediately and inhaled the blow expertly, an old pro by now, sniffing back deep.

“Wooh.” I could already feel it working, the happy numbing trembles that satisfied the things in me I hadn’t known were lacking. It felt like I was complete again, like everything was right and good the moment the burn hit my sinuses.

We did some lines for a while, laughing and giggling and snorting until we reached a near fever pitch of happiness and excitement. I was crazily, totally high. My teeth ground together with pent-up energy.

I sat on a chair in the kitchen as Charlie got to work. The room was wreathed in smoke and the music pumped loudly around us. She put my hair up in the rollers and started on my face. I found it hard to sit still; I had to concentrate to keep from fidgeting. We talked about her high school graduation and how lame it had been, about typical cheesy grad themes like, “the future looks bright,” and “don’t stop believing.”

“How come you didn’t go to college?” I wondered. “Or school or something.”

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