Life of the Party (51 page)

“Grey?”

“Hmm …?” he
opened one eye quizzically, a smile upon his lips.

“I was just
wondering … I mean, do you think that ….” I hesitated, biting my
lip. “… would this be considered a special occasion? Your
homecoming?”

He knew
instantly what I was referring to, but Grey shook his head,
seemingly amused by my question. “I think it’s pretty special.”

“Me too.” I
cleared my throat. “But that wasn’t really … what I was getting
at.”

“Oh, really?
What were you getting at?” He teased.

I rolled my
eyes at him. He was going to make me say it, I could tell. “Well, I
know Charlie picked up some … stuff, and I was wondering if we
could do some.”

“Hmm.” Grey
paused thoughtfully. His blue eyes opened eagerly. “Yeah, I think
that’d be okay.”

“I’ll go get
it.” I offered excitedly, sitting up in the bed and searching for
my clothes.

“Mackenzie?”

“Yeah?”

“That’s not
really necessary.”

“What
isn’t?”

“You getting
dressed.” His eyes, lazy and shining blue, raked up my naked
form.

“But … I
thought you said ….”

“I know. I’ve
got some in my bag.” Grey chuckled sheepishly. “Apparently, you
weren’t the only one who couldn’t hold out.”

“Oh.” I
grinned. “Anything to keep me naked, huh?”

“Hell yeah.” He
laughed.

Excitement
raced down my spine. I had to stifle my glee. “Do you have the
sniffing kind?” I wondered hopefully. Grey shook his head.

“No. It’s the
needle kind. Is that enough to deter you?”

“No.” I
answered quickly. “I mean, not if you’ll do it for me. Will
you?”

Grey grinned.
“Of course.”

“Okay.”

He grabbed the
stuff and heated us up a batch, taking some supplies from his
suitcase and mixing it all in one of my spoons. I watched him, my
hands sweating in anticipation, knowing that in only moments I
would be free as a bird, riding a wave of sheer bliss that would
crest and crash down on me. I couldn’t wait.

“Mackenzie.”

“Yes?” I lifted
my eyes from Grey’s hands and met his sober gaze.

“Do you
remember me telling you how addictive this stuff can be?”

“Yeah.” I
nodded. “But I thought we decided this was a special occasion.”

“We did. It
is.” He smiled. “But do you think that you could … not do this with
anybody else? Even Charlie? I mean, unless I’m around?”

“How come?” I
wondered lightly.

“I don’t know.
This stuff’s so volatile. I just … it would make me feel better if
I knew … when you were doing it … and how much you were doing, you
know?” He shook his head. “I know I sound like an asshole. But it
would keep me from worrying.”

I grinned. His
concern touched me. “You don’t sound like an asshole, Grey.
Besides, as much as I can help it, I’m going to be with you
anyway.” I leaned over and kissed his shoulder, smiling up at him.
“So it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“That sounds
good to me.” He smirked and kissed me softly on the lips.
“Thanks.”

He turned then
to fill the syringe with the dark, tar coloured drugs.

“Okay. Make a
fist.” He instructed. I did as I was told, holding out my arm to
him and tightening my muscles. Slowly the veins in my arm stood
out, not as much as with the elastic, but enough to make it work.
Even knowing how good the heroin would feel, I couldn’t help but
cower at the sight of the needle in his capable hand.

“Its okay,
Mackenzie.” Grey’s voice was low and melodic, soothing. I kept my
gaze on his, refusing to look down. “You’ll barely notice.”

Even so, I shut
my eyes. Slowly and gently, he grasped my arm in his warm hands. I
held my breath. I felt a tiny prick, the slightest of pinches in my
elbow pit.

“It’s in. Look,
Mackenzie. Watch this.”

The power Grey
had over me was phenomenal. I actually opened my eyes and stared
down at the needle breaking through my skin, the sharp steel cold
against my flesh. I watched as Grey retracted the plunger, as my
blood filled the syringe, mixing with the heroin, bright red blood
dancing with the dark drugs, curling and twisting around each
other. I was still staring, transfixed, as Grey shot the drugs
straight into my veins.

It was even
better than I remembered, even better than even hours before. I
gasped shakily as it took me, the sheer pleasure rocketing through
my body until I couldn’t take it anymore, and slackened back
against the bed with the most sincere of smiles spread wide across
my face. I still don’t know how to properly describe it. On the
movie
Trainspotting
, Renton says, “Take the best orgasm you
ever had, multiply it by a thousand and you’re still nowhere near
it.”

He was right.
That kind of pleasure isn’t something one can just imagine or
compare it to. Unless you’ve done heroin, there’s no way you can
know how good it feels. There aren’t words to describe the bliss,
the euphoria, the utter … nothingness.

Grey shot up
beside me but I was barely aware of it. He fell back against the
bed, his face deep with pleasure, close enough to mine that I could
stare right into it. His beautiful, gorgeous, perfect face. For me,
it didn’t get any better than that. Life was perfect. Everything I
could ever ask for. Everything I’d been searching for.

I smiled as the
waves crashed over me.

“Where do you
think you’re going?” Strong hands wrapped around my waist. I smiled
at Grey in the mirror, looking over my shoulder, his blue eyes
watching me as his lips pressed against my neck.

I groaned and
leaned back against him. “I have to go to work.” I sighed. “Not all
of us can be rock stars, you know.”

“Yeah.” He
chuckled. “Some rock star. I doubt there’s ever been a rock star in
history as broke-ass as I am right now.”

“Maybe not.” I
shrugged encouragingly. “But you won’t be for long.”

“Yeah.” Grey
mumbled, bending to kiss me again. I felt his pain. I was seriously
strapped for cash. All our money had gone to the weekend … the
perfect, blissfully high weekend that had gone by all too fast and
managed to eat up the rest of my tip money and whatever savings
Grey had left in the bank. I didn’t want to go to work, not at all,
but I had to make some tips or we’d be SOL for the evening’s
habits. Grey insisted that we slow down the heroin use now, since
that was basically all we’d done for the last forty-eight odd
hours. I was settling for cocaine, but it was way more expensive
than heroin, and would probably take up whatever tips I made that
night. I bit my lip in thought. I really needed more money. My rent
was coming up soon as well, but I didn’t want to think about
that.

“You look
really pretty.” He pushed my dark hair back from my face and
smirked at me in the mirror. “Isn’t this skirt a little … short,
though?”

Teasingly, I
rolled my eyes. Grey hadn’t been around to witness the gradual
shrinking of my wardrobe—my necklines getting lower, my skirts
shorter, my heels higher. Presently, I wore a tiny lace miniskirt
and a tight white sweater with a plunging v-neck. I chose it so the
long sleeves would hide the sickly yellow bruise that stained my
arm.

“You’ll see
when I get home tonight, the difference this look makes tip
wise.”

“I bet.” He
frowned slightly. “But I don’t know if I should let you out of the
house like this. I don’t like the thought of other guys looking at
you.”

I smiled and
turned around in his arms, so I was looking up into his gorgeous
face. I shrugged. “So what if they look. You’re the only one that
gets to touch.” I promised. This brought the smile back to his
eyes. He smirked again and then pulled me up to him, crushing me
against his lips.

It was in this
sweet embrace that Charlie found us. She cleared her throat
impatiently and rapped on my opened bedroom door.

“Comin’ Mac?
We’re going to be late.”

“Yeah.”
Regretfully, I pulled myself away from him. “I’ll see you
later.”

“I’ll be over
at my house. Come by when you’re done.”

“Okay.” I
kissed him again, I couldn’t help myself. “Bye.”

“Bye.”

“So, how was
your weekend?” I asked my friend once we were seated in her car,
smoking with the windows cracked only slightly. It was already cold
out and the days were getting colder. I shivered, and realized that
I was not looking forward to winter.

“It was
alright.” Charlie shrugged. “Courtney and I hung out. Did some H.
You?”

“About the
same.” I downplayed how awesome it had really been, flicking my
cigarette, trying not to ash on myself. “You really like heroin,
don’t you?”

“I do.” She
admitted.

“Me too.” I
exhaled a big waft of smoke. “I just wish it weren’t so, you know …
addictive. Grey says we can’t do anymore for awhile, that we should
save it for special occasions.”

“That’s
probably smart.” Charlie nodded begrudgingly. “But I don’t know if
it’s really that bad. I mean, I’m definitely not addicted yet.”

“Me either.” I
agreed, but I wondered if that were really true. I didn’t tell
Charlie that heroin had been my first thought upon waking up, how
all morning I’d nearly paced with craving, nervous because I knew I
wasn’t going to get anymore for awhile. I tried to talk myself out
of it though, out of the desperation, and having Grey around helped
a ton. Just his presence was like a drug for me.

I shook the
topic from my mind. Just the thought of it was enough to bring back
the craving. “So, did you see Zack at all this weekend?”

Charlie turned
a corner too fast. “No.” She shook her head. “He never came
around.”

“Are you going
to see him?”

She looked at
me. “Do you think I should?”

“I have no
idea.”

“Me either.”
Charlie sighed. “I’d like to say I won’t. I’d like to pretend I’m
strong enough not to go over there. But just the thought that he’s
in town, that he’s so close ….” She took a deep drag of her
cigarette and then tossed the butt out the window. “Whatever. We’ll
see.”

We made it to
the restaurant in record time. I was a bit apprehensive about work;
I wondered what kind of reception I’d get after ditching last
Friday. Charlie had skipped all last week but apparently she’d
called in sick with Mark, so she was probably off the hook. We
strode into the quiet restaurant, still with the calm before the
inevitable rush, and went to hang up our coats in the waitress
station. But there were already purses and jackets hanging there,
taking up the hooks.

We eyed each
other curiously, and just then Stacy and Mallory—two part-time
girls—came floating in from the top section, laughing and joking as
they made their way back to the station. Stacy had a bucket full of
creamers in her hand and Mallory carried an empty tray. They looked
like they were getting ready to work our shift.

“What are you
girls doing here?” Charlie wondered. “Did the schedule change?”

Stacy shrugged,
looking as surprised to see us as we were to see her. “I don’t
know. Ralph just called me and asked me to work.”

“Yeah, me too.”
Mallory nodded. “Why, were you guys supposed to?”

“Uh, yeah. We
always do.” Charlie’s voice was a little snippy. I bit my lip, not
sure what was going on, but pretty certain it wasn’t something
good. Especially if Ralph was involved.

The girls just
stared at us, as someone younger does when they’ve angered someone
they look up to—repentantly. Charlie sighed and shook her head at
them, flipping her blonde curls behind her shoulder.

“Whatever.
We’ll go talk to someone and get this straightened out.”

The squeak of
the swinging door on its hinges made us all look up with curiosity.
Ralph came through it from the kitchen, his arms crossed against
his burly chest, his red eyebrows raised with disapproval as he
looked over at Charlie and me with indignation written across his
face.

“Ralph.”
Charlie greeted coolly, trying to hide her surprise. “I think
there’s been a mix up.”

He only nodded.
“Yes. Can I have a word, girls, if you don’t mind?” He opened the
swinging door and motioned us forward. I gulped. Charlie let me
walk in front of her through the kitchen and into the back, which I
was thankful for. I didn’t like to think about where Ralph’s eyes
would be if he were walking right behind me.

We filed into
the office—it was cluttered with papers and orders and large silver
canisters of Pepsi refills. There was an ashtray overflowing with
butts on the desk and many plastic cups coated in sticky pop syrup.
It smelt vaguely like beer as we stood, waiting as Ralph closed the
door behind him and walked through the clutter to sit at his desk.
I had a very sinking suspicion that we were in trouble. Big
trouble.

“So, I’m sure
you’ve probably already figured this out, but both of you are
fired.” He stared at us evenly, his voice totally calm and at ease
… like he’d just told us what sections we were covering instead of
terminating our employment. My mouth dropped in surprise. I looked
up at Charlie in horror, following her lead, not knowing what to do
or say to get us out of the situation.

She looked at
Ralph a moment, her brow furrowing. “And why is that?”

Ralph scoffed,
like the answer was glaringly obvious. “Do you really want me to
start? You’re late, you drop things, and you’re completely
negligent. Both of you. The customers have been complaining. And
the way you’re dressing lately, I mean, not that I mind, but this
is a family restaurant.”

“Couldn’t you
just like, give us a warning or something?” Charlie negotiated.

“Maybe I
would’ve. If you hadn’t cut work all last week, and if you …,” he
looked straight at me, making me gulp again, his beady little green
eyes angry and intolerant, “… hadn’t blown off your shift on
Friday.”