Life of the Party (Wayward #1)

CHAPTER 3

The pavement shone in the streetlights, wet with recent rain. The air was chill and damp as I walked, smoking, my boots clipping loudly in the quiet. My mind was racing with the evening’s events and my ears still thrummed with phantom bass.

I felt like the worst friend in the world, ditching Riley when he needed me so I could swoon over an older man. But I was coming now, in the dead of night no less, to help my friend…though most of me wished I could be back at the club, basking in Grey’s voice and smile and attention instead of out walking in the cold.

I hoped Riley was all right. My experience with mushroom trips was about equal to my experience with men…both nonexistent. I talked a big game, but when it came to relationships I’d never found anyone special enough. I’d make out a bit at parties and stuff, but I could never do the one-night stand thing, especially when I was still a virgin. Most of the girls I knew were up into the double digits with their sexual escapades, but I couldn’t fathom how they could do that, how they could be so cavalier about sex. Sure, we seem to have moved past the whole waiting-for-marriage thing, but shouldn’t it at least mean something?

There were plenty of rumours circulating at school that conflicted with my state of virginity, which was fine with me. It made me seem more badass, I guess, which I didn’t mind, even if it came with consequences sometimes, like Riley’s bad trip.

Four blocks later, Ben’s house came into view—a sprawling bungalow nestled in the back of a cul-de-sac edged with manicured trees and expensive landscaping.

“Fuck, Mac, am I glad to see you.” Ben let out a waft of steamy smoke and stood from the curb as I approached .

“Why?” I looked up at the house, nervously. “I don’t know what to do any more than you do.”

“It’s not me he’s been asking for all night.” Ben raised his eyebrows. “Were you having a good time with whats-his-name? Sorry to spoil your fun.”

“His name is Grey.” I sighed fondly. My smoke sizzled as I flicked it into a puddle. “Where’s Riley? What’s going on?”

“Go see for yourself. I don’t know where to begin.”

I headed into the house then, anxious, not sure what to expect. The upstairs was bathed in darkness, so I went downstairs into the dim light of the TV room. Riley was there, alone, slouched on the loveseat, staring at the empty screen of the TV—the only light in the room. It tinged everything an eerie blue.

“Ry, whatcha doing sitting in the dark?” I asked. There was no answer, which kind of creeped me out. I flicked on the lamp nearest me. “Ry?”

“Shut that off!” He screamed suddenly, pointing a small toy golf club at me like it was a sword. “Wait, wait, Mackenzie, is that you?”

“Yeah, it’s me. What the hell are you doing?”

“Exactly. Exactly.” He nodded his head in agreement, which made no sense. His hood was pulled down past his eyes. All I could see was the tip of his nose and his mouth, which was set in a grim line. “See, I knew you’d understand. I hoped you’d come.”

“Of course I came. What’s going on?”

He pulled his hood down further. His voice was hoarse and choking. “I can’t control it. I can’t. The things I’m seeing…it’s not right. They’re not right.”

“What are you seeing?” I sat down in the chair beside the lamp. “There’s nothing here, Ry. Nothing but me.”

“No, I can’t tell you. It’s too terrible. I think I’m dying. Just, just be here.”

“I am here. You’re going to be okay. Remember that one party when you ate all those hot wings before they were cooked? You swore you were dying then, but you were fine. You just gotta ride it out.”

“This is slightly different than food poisoning, Mac,” Riley growled at me. “I didn’t see shit then.”

“Oh, yes you did.” I laughed, trying to lighten his mood. “That’s all you saw for days. ”

“Mackenzie!” He snapped at me, stopping my laughter abruptly. “Don’t you get it? I’m in Hell. I’m in Hell. I see Hell right now.”

“…What?”

“It’s evil. All of it is evil, and I see it now. I see it clearly now, and I wish I’d known the truth before. I wish I had the chance to choose again. I’d choose differently.”

“You are rambling about who-knows-what right now. Just relax. You are not going to die.” I sounded more confident than I felt. “Just take it easy; think of good things. In a few hours, this will all be over.”

“No, it won’t ever be over.” He said desperately, clawing at his hood and his face. “Help me, Mac. Help me.”

“I don’t know what to do,” I admitted, slightly panicked by his plea. “Tell me what to do, Ry, and I’ll do it, whatever you need.”

He shook his head, and then, pressing his hands against his face, Riley began to cry, silently sobbing into his palms. I had never, in the eleven years of our friendship, seen Riley do that. Not when his dad left, not when his dog died, not even when he broke his wrist in Phys. Ed. Those quiet tears scared me more than anything he ever could have said or done. I felt hollow and lost. Riley had always been my rock—the strong one, manly, emotionless. Now I didn’t know what to do.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay.” I struggled to control my voice, to swallow my hysterics, speaking softly and soothingly, like my mom did when I was sick or sad.

I went to him and put my arms around his shoulders, but he jerked away, startled. Feverish, hot to the touch. “What can I do? Tell me what to do.” I pleaded.

“I don’t know. Make it stop. Pray. Pray for me.”

Pray? I reached for him again, holding his trembling form as tightly as I could. I didn’t want to mention that prayer wouldn’t do anything for him, and I’d never prayed a day in my life and wasn’t entirely sure how it was done.

Riley shut his eyes then, his lips moving silently. Petitioning God, begging Him for this to stop. “Please, Mackenzie. Pray. Pray for me.” His eyes were hauntingly desperate, completely void of colour in the dim light. Filled with terror.

“Okay, okay.” I nodded, hugging him to me. “Lord…” I didn’t know what to say, what to even ask for. Help Riley have a good mushroom trip? Make him…not high?

“Lord.” I started. “Please save my friend Riley from Hell.”

I awoke the next morning to a horrible kink in my neck. Slowly I strained to turn my head, rubbing the aching muscles with a stiff arm. Riley slept next to me, his face pale, but calm and peaceful now. He had thrown one of his arms around me during the night. It lay heavily around my waist, warm and comforting.

I was relieved our rightful roles had been restored—that he was taking care of me again. I sighed contentedly and snuggled against him. There was no safer place in the world than Riley’s arms. None I’d found yet, anyway.

I studied his face while he slept. Dark smudges lay beneath his eyes, a tribute to the horrible night we’d spent. For hours we sat together, and I tried to comfort him as best I could, but there wasn’t much I could do. He had to ride it out by himself. I don’t think I’ll ever understand what he went through. He tried to keep it mostly to himself, but at times he trembled so violently I thought he was seizing. Other times he paced the room, muttering incoherently, trapped in the utter torture of his hallucinations, at the total mercy of his mind.

Eventually, like Grey said it would, the terror faded. I’d felt Riley’s body gradually relax, the tension unwinding as the mushrooms wore off and the delusions finally dwindled. Exhausted from the ordeal, I’d passed out sitting up, unable to keep my eyes open once I knew he’d be okay. My body ached from the uncomfortable sleep in such an unusual position, but I didn’t regret it. Not for Riley.

“…Mackenzie?” He asked, his eyes closed in a grimace.

“I’m here, Ry. How you feeling?”

“Not good.” He opened his eyes, slowly, and looked up at the roof. “Gut rot.”

“I would imagine. Among other things.” I smirked sympathetically. “You okay?”

He hesitated. “Yeah. Let’s not talk about it. I wish I’d never put you through that.” He shook his head, sighing regretfully. “I think that’s the last time I’ll ever do mush.”

“I should hope so. I will personally kick your ass if you ever do them again.”

“Deal.” That brought a smile to his lips. “How was the X?”

“Pretty awesome. Yeah, I definitely loved it.”

“I thought you would.” Riley nodded, but I noticed he looked…worried, almost. Like the thought made him frown. “Sorry to ruin your night.”

“It’s okay; you can make it up to me. Guess how? You’ll never guess.” I prodded, excited to share my plan with him, the one I’d hatched during the long night.

He smiled at my exuberance. “How?”

“Do you think…could you still get me a job at your restaurant?”

“What, really?” His eyes brightened. “What made you change your mind?”

“Well…” I looked away, feeling a blush of heat sweep my cheeks. “That’s where Grey works, right? ”

Complete silence. I glanced over at Riley, but the look on his face was totally indiscernible. His eyes were flat and emotionless, but his face seemed hard.

He looked up at the ceiling again. “Mackenzie.” He gulped, thinking his words out carefully. “Do you think Grey would be good for you? I mean, he’s decent, but he’s not really someone you bring home to Mom.”

“You think it’s that easy, like I’d even stand a chance.” I scoffed.

“I think you’d be surprised.”

“Okay, let’s say I do. What’s so bad about him? He has lots of friends. And his band is amazing.”

“I don’t know. I don’t want to bad mouth the guy. I just think you could do better.”

“I think the same for you, whenever you meet someone,” I admitted, meeting his deep brown eyes. “I think it’s a curse of ours, Ry. We care too much about each other to only be friends, but friends are all we’ll ever be. Don’t you agree?”

He stared up at the ceiling, hesitating before he slowly nodded his head.

“Right. Just friends. That’s all we’ll ever be.”

I’d said them first, but for some reason, it bothered me when he uttered the words.

Ever since we’d reached adolescence, the possibility had always been there, like white noise in the background, a constant subconscious thought that flirted with our deep bond of friendship and threatened to make it more.

Those words, spoken aloud, agreed upon, brought with them a feeling of sudden loss, a detachment in our closeness—as though certain things forever available were now forbidden to each other, off limits. I wondered if he felt it too. It was a terrifying feeling, as though we’d just mutually agreed to go our separate ways.

“Riley—” I tried hard to control my voice. “Promise me that no matter what happens, no matter who we end up with or what we go through, promise me you’ll always be there. Promise that, that you’ll always love me.”

He turned back to me then, a little smile curving his lips. His dark eyes were the same, warm and comforting. But the detached feeling remained.

“You don’t need me to say that, Mackenzie.”

“Why?”

“Because. You know it’s the truth.”