Life of the Party (Wayward #1)

CHAPTER 65

The days and weeks passed. I had bad days and good days—mostly bad, with a few good sprinkled in. On the good days, I’d wake up after a fitful, tenuous sleep, and I’d feel some actual hope. Some strength. Like I could do it, like I was going to make it.

And then came the bad days.

Those days I didn’t even want to get out of bed. Those days my heart ached as if it were on fire, my thoughts knew no peace, my mind no rest. Those days I missed Grey abominably. Overwhelmed with guilt and sorrow and loss I’d plod on through the day, sullen, arms crossed defensively, snapping at those around me. Snapping at Riley.

Poor Riley always suffered the brunt of my emotions, especially during my bad days. It didn’t seem to faze him. He had a never-ending supply of patience at his disposal for all he put up with—my moroseness, my bitter gloom, my cruel remarks. He seemed to understand it wasn’t about him, but of course, he wasn’t shy about telling me when to shut up, either.

Riley kept talking to me about God, and for some reason every time he did, it made me want to cry. At his coaxing, I tried fitfully to read the Bible he’d given me. The first few chapters were enjoyable, but it was hard to believe the stories really happened, like nursery rhymes or fairy tales. I asked Riley a trillion questions, most he couldn’t answer. Like, did Noah take mosquitoes with him on the ark? If so, why? He could have saved us a whole bunch of trouble, not to mention a bunch of diseases, if he’d just left those pests behind. And Adam and Eve. If they were the first two people on earth, who did their sons marry? Their sisters?

I couldn’t help myself. It was easier to make light of it, to keep things safe, shallow .

I didn’t want to tell Riley about it, but whenever he got into the real stuff, the heart stuff, the stuff about God and Jesus and the sacrifice he made to save us…it made me teary. Teary and uncomfortable. Like something inside me was stirring. Something I didn’t want. Something I didn’t need.

So I changed the subject instead.

“There’s so much begotting in Genesis,” I complained to Riley one particularly ugly day, rolling my eyes.

He laughed at me then, heartily. I waited, seething, until he was finished.

“Sorry.” He managed between chuckles. “I’ve never heard it put that way before.”

“Maybe I just won’t read any more, if what I think is so funny to you.”

“Touchy.” He smiled at me, his dark eyes warming. “Don’t stop reading it. I’m glad you are. Maybe try something a little closer to the middle. I think you’ll like that.”

I shook my head in frustration. “I don’t know, Riley. It’s all meaningless to me.”

“Try asking Him to show you.” He suggested. “He’d love to, you know.”

Tears pricked my eyes. I couldn’t explain them, I blinked them away.

“Yeah.” Whatever.

“You’re going to get through this,” Riley grasped my hand and gave it a squeeze. “Just take it one day at a time.”

I nodded and stared silently at the floor. Sometimes it felt like my sorrow was engulfing me—that it was all I had left, that I’d lost every part of me to it. I missed Grey so much. I blamed myself for his death. I couldn’t bear to look at myself in the mirror, to face what I’d become—everything I’d done. I was wasted.

Miserable. Broken. Lost.

“I know you’re hurting right now, Mackenzie.” Riley’s voice reached my ears, low, and serious. “You need to hurt. You need to hurt if you’re ever going to change.”

“But you changed.” I realized glumly. “You totally changed, and you didn’t feel any hurt. Not like this.”

Riley hesitated, his dark eyes scanning the drab interior of the room as he thought out his reply. He took a sip of coffee. “I hurt, Mac. More thank you know.”

“How?”

“It…it hurt to know what I’d…become. Even when I look back now, when I think about the way I acted, the way I was. So selfish, you know? So…destructive. What I did to my poor mom…and all those kids I sold drugs to?” He paused, meeting my eyes across the table. “It…hurt to think about you, too. Everything I encouraged you to do. I felt guilty and responsible and just…shitty. But it made me want to change. ”

I listened to him, nodding, wide-eyed. I knew what he meant about the guilt—how much it hurt to look back on all my bad decisions, my selfish mistakes.

Knowing the damage they’d caused. Knowing what they’d cost me.

I cleared my throat. “So what. Now, everything is good?”

“Yes, and no.” Riley shrugged. “I still mess up. I still make mistakes.” He smiled. “I guess I have…hope, now. I don’t have to carry the weight of those mistakes anymore. I don’t know. I just feel free. Whole.”

“Why?”

“That’s the best part. It doesn’t matter what I’ve done, or what I do. I’m loved, just the way I am. Accepted and forgiven over and over again.”

I bit my lip doubtfully.

“You are too, Mackenzie.” Riley’s voice was soft. “You right now. Forgiven for everything.”

I shook my head.

“No one deserves it, Mac.” Riley continued, reading my mind. “But it’s true. He knows everything you’ve ever done and loves you no matter what. More than you can imagine. You. Just as you are. Before, and right now, and always.”

My eyes filled with tears again. I couldn’t speak.

“Why is it so hard to believe?” I managed finally.

“‘Cause. You know what really saves you, Mac?” Riley smiled fondly, leaning forward. “Faith. Believing in the impossible. Believing in God, in Jesus. Ignoring all the voices telling you none of it can be real, and just…believing.”

I leaned my arms on my lap, staring down at my hands, choking back my tears. I shook my head hopelessly. “I don’t know how.”

“Sure you do. You’ve already done it.” Riley rested his hand on my knee, trying to see into my face. “The night of the mushroom trip. ‘Save my friend Riley from Hell.’ Remember?”

“That wasn’t real. I didn’t even know what I was saying.”

“Look at me, Mackenzie.” He lifted my face with his hand so I was gazing into his eyes. “Your prayer changed my life. Could you ever picture me this way, before?”

“No. Never.” I admitted breathlessly. The change in Riley had always staggered me. It still staggered me. I gave him a little smile. “You’re saying I’m to blame for all this?” I waved my hand at him absently.

He grinned. “What can I say? I’m an answer to prayer. ”

I felt strangely unsettled after Riley’s visit. Like I couldn’t relax. It was a new kind of anxiety, distantly related to how I felt when the lights went off at night, but more…panicky. Restless. Agitated. I didn’t know what was causing it.

I tried to ignore the mounting tension—tried to push it away and focus on the gross cafeteria food, the conversations around me while we ate, the mindless chatter coming from the TV after supper. It didn’t work. I just couldn’t shake the feeling, like I’d forgotten something—something important—but couldn’t figure out what it was.

By bedtime, the disquiet within me had reached a fever pitch. The moment Allison shut the lights off, the darkness in the room pressed against my open eyes. My heart hammered wildly in my chest. For a terrible instant, it felt like I couldn’t breathe. I sat up in bed and took a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself down. I didn’t really know what to do; I’d never had a panic attack before.

It was the darkness again. So thick. So suffocating.

What I needed was light.

As quietly as I could, I opened my bedside drawer and found the little flashlight Riley smuggled in for me, impulsively grabbing the Bible he’d given me as well. Then, my heart still racing, I ducked under the covers and turned the flashlight on, relieved by the light. I held the Bible against my chest while I caught my breath, the heaviness comforting, weighty with promise.

If Allison was aware of my activities she didn’t say anything. Her slow, even breaths told me she was enjoying the rare skill she possessed for falling asleep immediately.

Urgently, I flipped the Bible open and turned impatiently through the pages. I wasn’t even sure what I was searching for, something—anything that would make all the craziness stop. Riley suggested I read somewhere near the middle. I flipped and flipped and flipped, and then stopped. I read the first verse my eyes rested on.

It was Matthew 11:28-30.

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest…learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.

I read it a few times, my eyes wide. I was surprised. So much of it actually spoke to me. I flipped again, turning the pages rapidly, and landed on Psalm 9:9.

Many people are suffering—crushed by the weight of their troubles. But the Lord is a refuge for them, a safe place they can run to .

I gasped a little, my eyes filling with tears, and flipped again.

1 John 1:9 But if we confess our sins, God will forgive us. We can trust God to do this. He always does what is right. He will make us clean from all the wrong things we have done.

Ephesians 3:17-19 I pray that Christ will live in your hearts because of your faith. I pray that your life will be strong in love and be built on love. And I pray that you will have the power to understand the greatness of Christ’s love—how wide, how long, how high, and how deep that love is. Christ’s love is greater than anyone can ever know, but I pray that you will be able to know that love. Then you can be filled with everything God has for you.

It didn’t matter where I turned or which page I landed on. There was a verse there, often the first I saw, jumping from the page, speaking directly to me. It was actually kind of frightening. My heart thumped in my chest, my fingers trembling as I flipped, each new verse a confirmation.

This couldn’t be a coincidence.

Finally, I flipped, just one more time, to Psalm 107.

Some of you were sick because you’d lived a bad life, your bodies feeling the effects of your sin; you couldn’t stand the sight of food, so miserable you thought you’d be better off dead.Then you called out to God in your desperate condition; he got you out in the nick of time. He spoke the word that healed you, that pulled you back from the brink of death. So thank God for his marvellous love, for his miracle mercy to the children he loves…

A sob caught in my throat as I read the passage. I read it again and again. So much of it spoke to me…like actually spoke to me.

“Your heart so heavy, and not a soul to help.” That was exactly how I felt .

“You couldn’t stand the sight of food, so miserable you thought you’d be better off dead.”

Hadn’t I felt that very thing? Hadn’t I actually tried to kill myself? But why didn’t I die? I’d taken more than enough heroin to overdose—way more than enough. Yet here I was, living, breathing. Fine.

“ He spoke the word that healed you, that pulled you back from the brink of death.”

Could it be true? Did God have a plan for me? Did he really love me, despite my horridness? Enough to save me from death ?

“…you called out to God in your desperate condition; he got you out in the nick of time.”

Would God help me if I asked him to? I knew I couldn’t take this for much longer—the heaviness of my heart, the despair in my soul, the wretchedness that permeated my entire being. Just one night of peace, that’s all I wanted. One night where I could shut my eyes and sleep, and know no hurt, no pain, no discontent. I had to try.

I laid my Bible down on my chest and shut the flashlight off, peeling my blankets back. I felt silly. I’d never done this before. I laid there for a minute, silent, staring up into the dark—into the utter blackness. My heart was pounding.

After a few deep breaths, I began.

“God, please,” I begged silently into the night.“please, if you’re there…help me. I…I need you. Please, if you’re real, show me. Help me to believe. Help me, God. I’m calling to you in a desperate condition, I can’t take much more. Get me out in the nick of time, God…please. Please…I beg you…help me…”

I’m not sure when the tears started, but I felt them wet and heavy on my cheeks. I don’t know what I expected—some whisper in the dark perhaps, or a hand heavy on my shoulder—but there was nothing, just dark and the quiet surrounding me, unchanging.

But then, there was something. I don’t know how to describe it…it was so subtle. There weren’t any fireworks exploding within me or anything; it was more like something just…clicked. Like whatever was missing was suddenly found. Like the last piece of the puzzle was finally in place. That’s not even it, though; it was even more delicate than that. Suddenly, I just knew that God was real. That everything the Bible said was true. That my heart was beating for a purpose, and that purpose was God.

I knew that I was saved. Forgiven. Loved, despite my imperfections. Despite what I’d done. Wholly, impossibly, perfectly loved. Beloved.

And nothing could ever change that.

Peace flooded over me. More peace than I’d ever known. I couldn’t explain it. It was better than any high I’d ever experienced. More potent than heroin, and…cleaner feeling. Like this peace was the right kind of peace. I felt safer than I ever had, more love than I’d ever known. All my agony was gone, all my sadness, all my guilt and despair. The darkness fell back, and sometime in the midst of thanking God, I fell fast asleep, and stayed that way until morning.

So thank God for his marvellous love, for his miracle mercy to the children he loves…

Allison had to shake me awake. “Mackenzie! You’re going to be late for breakfast. ”

I stretched in my bed. I hadn’t slept so wonderfully in ages and ages—I hadn’t felt such serenity in my entire life. The moment I opened my eyes I expected it all to crash down on me again, the heaviness, the sorrow. While I still felt the pain from losing Grey, it was more bearable than it had ever been. And the peace, it remained. I couldn’t explain it. I smiled at Allison—like actually smiled; I felt so hopeful.

Like today was the beginning. Like nothing before today even mattered.

My smile surprised Allison so much she frowned at me. I’d broken an unwritten rule between us—smiling upon waking apparently was not allowed, not when in rehab. Part of me wanted to share with her what I’d experienced, what I’d found in the dark reaches of the night, but I knew Allison wouldn’t appreciate it, and this was all too new to me to have it sullied by someone who didn’t understand. So, as much as the words were nearly bursting out of me, just dying to be told, I bit my tongue.

There was only one person I was ready to tell. One person who’d get it.

I nearly raced to the meeting room that afternoon when it was time. Riley was there, like usual, sitting behind the table and waiting for me. His dark hair was still growing out from his buzz cut, short and messy. He wore a long-sleeved t-shirt, tight against his broad shoulders, and dark blue jeans that accentuated his newfound muscular physic. His dark eyes were staring down at his coffee cup, which he gripped with both hands like he was chilled from the short walk in from the cold.

He was the same. He was different. I felt like I really knew him now, now that I understood. I felt more connected to him than I had in a really, really long time.

Grinning, I opened up the door.

Riley was nearly as shocked as Allison by the smile on my face. The look he gave me made me want to laugh out loud, but I held back, stifling a giggle with my hand. “I can’t believe I’m laughing, Riley.” I shook my head. “I never thought I’d laugh again.”

I didn’t have to say it, but just from that sentence, Riley knew. The smile he gave me was unlike any smile he’d ever given me before. His dark eyes were shining as he came around the table and wrapped me up in a tremendous hug.

“I’m so happy, Mac.” He spoke into my ear. “You have no idea, how long I’ve…I’ve been praying and praying.” He held me tightly. His arms were so warm, so safe. I pressed my face against his chest and muffled my laughter into his shirt.

“He’s real, Ry. He’s really real.”

“I know. I know He is.”

“I’m so…” I shook my head. How to describe it? “I feel so light. I can’t believe it.” I looked up at my friend worriedly. “Is it wrong? Is it wrong to feel this good? ”

“No.” Riley held my arms in his warm, strong hands and answered me sincerely. “No, it’s not wrong. As hard as it may be to believe, you do deserve happiness, Mac.”

“But…will he understand?” I wondered, hopefully.

“Of course he will.” Riley hugged me tightly against him again. “Grey wants you to be happy too.”

I pressed myself against Riley’s hard chest and shut my eyes, knowing his words to be true. For a moment, I imagined it was Grey holding me instead—his strong arms around me, his blue eyes shining, his lips smirking as he whispered in my ear.

“Live. Be happy.”

I will be happy, Grey, someday.

But I’ll never stop loving you.