Life of the Party (Wayward #1)

CHAPTER 61

There was a banging noise. A fist on a door. Muffled voices coming from somewhere far, far away. I was removed from the noises; apart from the chaos unfolding. It was peaceful where I was. Tranquil. Heavenly.

“How long has she been in there?” Riley’s voice, frantic with worry.

“I don’t know. I didn’t even see her come up here!” Charlie wailed.

Ah. I understood what was happening now. They were outside the bathroom door, trying to get in. They were about to find my body, cold and dead on the floor.

It’s too late, I wanted to tell them. You’re too late. I’m dead.

“Mackenzie! Answer me!” Riley tried the knob again. “Please?”

I can’t. I’m dead.

“Get out of the way, Charlie. Move!”

“What are you —?”

Bang! The noise jerked me in surprise. Bang! It sounded like Riley was hurtling himself at the door, throwing his weight against it, kicking it with as much strength as he could muster.

There was a sudden splintering sound. I listened faintly, curious as they burst through the broken door. What were they going to do now? What were they going to do when they discovered they were too late?

“Mackenzie!” Charlie screamed in horror. The shrillness startled me. Warm, strong hands were on my arms, on my shoulders, turning me over, propping me up…

You’re too late…

“Mackenzie.” Riley’s voice was close now, in my ears, gasping, pleading with me. “Please, please, please. Open your eyes.” He shook me, slapped me, lightly .

I turned my face from the sting of his slap. It was more annoying than anything.

“Is she okay? Is she breathing?”

“Yeah, she’s breathing.” Riley’s voice oozed relief. “She just needs to wake up.”

His touch was lighter now.

“Mackenzie, Mac, can you hear me?”

No…oh, wait. Yes, I can hear you. Why can I hear you?

I frowned. No, this wasn’t right. Why could I hear him? Why could I feel him?

Slowly, I tried to open my eyes.

“Is she waking up?”

“I think so. Mackenzie?” Riley’s face was close, so close to mine. I blinked up at him, confused by the warm, chocolate eyes gazing down at me. They were filled with tears, with agony. Why could I see him? And why the hell was he crying? I was the one who was supposed to be dead.

He picked me up in his arms, gingerly, as if I were fragile, easily breakable. I let him; I had no energy to fight him at all. We left the bathroom and started down the hall, rushing, Charlie behind us.

I tried to pay attention to the chaos that ensued once we reached the main floor and my parents learned of my state—the frantic, dramatic worry of their voices mingling together, a cacophony of concern surrounding me. I was still too overcome by the sweet waves of bliss to care, too out of it to really hear them. The heroin burning through my swollen veins was intense, it was good—I hadn’t been that high in ages. Warm and comfortable and safe in Riley’s arms, I gave into the numbing heat, nodding in drowsy pleasure. I shut my eyes and leaned against his hard chest and succumbed, more content, more peaceful than I’d been for days.

Wearily, I opened my eyes. Just a bit at first, and I didn’t understand a thing. Stupidly, I blinked into the dark, trying to place myself. The last thing I could remember were Riley’s dark brown eyes hovering over me, filled with tears. I turned my head, relived to see he was with me still—his face a dim silhouette against the dashboard lights, his eyebrows furrowed toward the road.

We were in a car. My car, I realized. I sat up a bit, my neck aching in protest from the odd position I’d been resting in. It made me groan.

Riley looked over at me sharply. I glanced back at him, achy and uncomfortable.

“You’re awake.” He observed. “How are you feeling?”

“Terrible. ”

“You had me worried there for a minute.”

I shrugged, nodding drowsily. Riley fell silent. He didn’t seem to know what else to say, but I wasn’t up for talking anyway. I leaned my head back, dozing in and out, shutting my eyes, half-listening as the DJ from the local station prattled over the radio in his low, monotonous tenor.

“This one goes out to all those Serpentine fans grieving the loss of lead singer Grey Lewis, who passed away New Year’s Day.” He was saying. “Funeral services were held today for the guitar-wielding local hero, and their debut CD, Seize the Day, has been selling out of stores ever since the late singer’s tragic death. Here’s the latest single from the album. Enjoy. This one’s for you, Grey.”

That woke me up. I sat up, shocked. Every muscle in my body tensed as the all-too-familiar intro began—the beautiful streaming guitar and the melodic piano blending together into the world’s most perfect song. Tears warmed my eyes. I held my breath, waiting in agonizing anticipation for the bittersweet moment I would hear his voice again, when it would come to me from beyond the grave.

I shut my eyes, like a masochist, and focused on nothing but his raspy, velvet sound.

A sound I loved with all my heart. A sound I lived to hear.

“Mackenzie, I hope you miss me

When I’m gone, when I’m gone.

I gotta go now, but you need to know how

Much you’re loved, how much you’re loved…

Mackenzie…”

His voice—Grey’s beautiful, unmistakable voice—ripped through my mind and tore through my soul, leaving a wake of burning fire smouldering in my wounds.

The pain was all the more potent for the meaning behind his words, words I couldn’t fathom. Grey loved me. I was precious to him; the song was about me. He loved me. So why did he leave me? Why? The sound of his voice was the only thing in the entire world I wished to hear. But I wanted it from him. I wanted his lips to move, I wanted his mouth to speak. And he never would again.

“Stop the car, Riley,” I ordered. My breath was coming in gasps.

“What?”

“Stop the car!” I shouted. “Stop the fucking car! ”

The brakes locked, the wheels skidded across the icy highway. By the time we slowed to a stop, I was already out of the car.

Damn, it was freezing. The icy wind whipped around my legs, my hair, taking my breath away. Traffic whizzed by. I ran to the side of the road. So mad. So furious. I screamed into the wind—shrill, crazy. I took off my shoes and threw them as far as I could, oblivious to the crusty frozen snow stabbing my bare feet.

“I won’t miss you!” I shouted. “I won’t! I hate you! I hate you!” Liar. Liar. You love him.

I sunk to my knees, defeated, sobbing as the pain gripped my heart, its clutch as icy as the freezing wind.

“Mackenzie,” Riley grasped me by the elbow. I hadn’t noticed him approaching. “Come on. Let’s get back in the car.”

I tried to shrug him off. “Just leave me here, Riley.” I sobbed.

“Come on. It’s freezing.”

“I don’t care.”

He sighed a moment and then, like I was two, bent and scooped me out of the snow. I cried against his shoulder as he carried me back to the car.

How could anybody live through such agony? How could I be expected to go on, to lead a normal, happy life? I would never recover from this, there was no way—the pain was too great. Too constant. There was only one way for me to escape, one way for me to forget everything. I needed more heroin. I needed it soon. I needed it badly.

“Riley.” I sniffled as he buckled me into the seat. It hadn’t occurred to me to ask before; I hadn’t really cared. But now I needed to know how much time stood between me and my next hit. “Where are we going?”

“Are your feet okay?” He ignored my question, bending to inspect my toes.

“Fuck my feet, Riley.” I snapped. “Where are we going?”

He smiled at me. “Watch your hand.” He ordered, slamming my door shut. He walked around the car and got into the driver’s seat, taking a minute to warm his hands at the vents.

“Riley, answer me. Where are we going?” I demanded, wiping tears from my cheeks.

He ignored me again. He didn’t even look at me, slowly pulling back onto the road and accelerating over the icy pavement. Once we’d reached highway speed, once we were going too fast for me to jump out of the moving car, Riley turned to me.

“I’m taking you to rehab.”

“You’re…what?”

“You need help, Mac. I’m going to get you help. ”

I froze with horror, realizing fully what he meant. I couldn’t go to rehab. Not without Grey. I needed heroin, now more than ever. I wouldn’t survive without it. What would I do when the pain got too bad? The thought made my blood run cold.

“I can’t go to rehab.” I shook my head resolutely. “Riley, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can Mackenzie. You have to.”

“I’ll…I’ll do it on my own, Riley. I’ll cut back, I’ll get clean on my own…”

“No.”

“You could help me, Ry, we can go somewhere, we can be alone and you can help me and I’ll quit, I really will.”

“No.”

“Please? Please Riley, I need it, you don’t know what it’s like.” Desperate, my eyes filled with tears again. I looked over at him, pleading. “Please, Ry. Please? It hurts so bad. I can’t go through it. Not alone, not now. It’s too soon. Please?”

His jaw clenched, but he was resolved. “No.”

“You can’t make me go!” Panicked, I screamed at him. My craving flared within me. I needed heroin. I needed more, now. “You can’t force me!”

“You’re right, I can’t.” He avoided my scorching gaze. “Your other option is jail.”

“Jail?” I scoffed angrily. “Yeah, right.”

“Seriously, Mackenzie. It won’t be that hard. Officer Stacey wanted to bring you in already. I don’t know how your parents kept him from searching your house. What would they have found, Mac? Enough to keep you and your friends in jail for a long time, I’ll bet.”

I blinked back tears—angry, frustrated tears—because I knew Riley was right. “You would send me to jail?” I whispered. “You would do that to me?”

“Yes, I would. If I knew it would help you.”

I shook my head, dropping it into my hands and sobbing with defeat. This wasn’t fair. None of it was fair. Why was this happening to me? I didn’t want to go to rehab. I didn’t want to get clean, not without Grey. I didn’t want Grey to be dead.

“Why are you doing this to me?” I cried.

Riley turned his tortured gaze to me before looking back at the road. “Mac, look at you. I’m not just going to sit here and let you die. You’re too important to me. I’m going to do what’s best for you, even if you don’t like it.”

“You care about me.” I scoffed disdainfully.

“You know I do. ”

I wailed into my hands, curling up into a ball on the seat. If he cared about me at all, he’d understand why I couldn’t go to rehab. Just the memory of the sickness was enough to make me shudder. I had no motivation to stop using, not now. I wanted to die. Why wouldn’t he just let me die?

The car slowed, and Riley turned into a brightly lit parking lot. I hadn’t realized we’d made it to the city; I’d been too upset to pay attention. I looked around wildly, taking in my surroundings—my suitcase sitting in the backseat, the intimidating brick building we were approaching.

Riley parked the car at the entrance.

“Please, Riley.” I tried again, furtively pleading. I grasped his arm and forced him to look at me. “Please take me home?”

“It’s rehab or jail, Mackenzie. You choose.”

A man and a lady dressed heavily in winter coats noticed our arrival, striding towards the car, expecting me. I thought about running, about making a break for it. My hand grasped the door handle.

“You can’t run, Mackenzie.” Riley grabbed my arm. “You’ve been running for too long. You have to face it.”

I sobbed in defeat, sinking back against the seat. He put an arm around me and tried to hug me, but I pushed him off with a sudden burst of rage. I’d never been so angry in my whole entire life. He knew I hated things being pushed on me; he knew I hated being told what to do. And now I had no choice. I had to go to rehab.

“I hate you, Riley. I hate you!” I spat through my tears. “How could you do this to me? How? I hate you! I never want to see you again!” I shouted. I pushed his hand away and burst out of the car, taking the man and the lady by surprise. She put an arm around me and started pulling me inside, out of the cold. I had to go with her, but first, I turned to yell one last disparaging remark at my former friend.

The words never made it past my lips. As I turned, I saw Riley crumple in his seat, saw him bury his head in his hands, saw his shoulders silently shaking.

Wordlessly, I turned my back on him; no choice left but the one before me.