Life of the Party (3 page)

“Grey.” I
repeated in a breathless whisper. “Like the color gray?”

“I don’t know.
Can we go Mac? I need to talk to you.”

“Can you
introduce me to him?”

“What?
Sure—whatever—just … just hold on ….” Riley searched through his
pockets until he located his vibrating cell phone. He held up his
hand.

“I have to take
this. I’ll be right back.” His tall form disappeared then, through
the crowd in the direction of the exit. I turned my full attention
back to the gorgeous man onstage, realizing as I did so that many
other females felt the same way. Some were practically salivating
as they stared, others were debating taking their shirts off, I
could tell. Though their music was actually good, I suddenly
understood why the band Serpentine had such a good turn out.

I sat down at
the table, lights dancing before my eyes. The ecstasy was a good,
good thing. I leant against Toby, trying to seem aloof and casual
even though my eyes were glued to Grey—watching—memorizing every
move he made. The boys around me were rowdy and entertaining, so I
sat back and laughed with them, perfectly satisfied gazing at my
dream man as he screamed into the microphone. The fact that so many
women wanted him only made me want him more.

“You okay,
Mac?” Toby wondered.

“Yeah, I’m
good.” I smiled. “You?”

“Whoooh. I’m
good, but man, these mushrooms are intense.”

“Oh yeah? In a
bad way?”

“No. Good, in a
good way.”

“Okay.” I leant
back against him. “Good.”

We sat and
watched and laughed until the band’s set had ended. I blinked in
disappointment as the lights dimmed and they made their way off
stage. Only then did Riley return. He looked slightly pale, his
face wore a sheen of sweat and his eyes darted rapidly. I sat up as
he approached.

“You okay Ry?”
I wondered. He didn’t look okay. “What took you so long?”

“Oh, nothing.
Yeah, I’m good, I’m good. Some guys called and needed some stuff.”
He explained, sitting next to me. I could practically feel the heat
radiating from his body. He sniffed and wiped at his nose.

“What stuff,
Ry? You don’t look so good.” I didn’t need him to answer. I had my
suspicions.

“Nothing.” He
answered tersely.

“Okay … well,
do you want to talk or what?”

“Yeah.” Riley
cleared his throat. “Let’s go—oh, hey man, how’s it going?” He
asked then, going through the motions of an elaborate handshake
with whoever stood next to him. “Here, have a seat.”

Then strong
arms were rested on the tabletop beside, leather-studded bracelets
upon the wrist, a beer in the hand. To my delight, the owner of
those limbs was none other than Grey, who proved even handsomer up
close. His eyes were dark blue and fathomless and his lips were
full and brooding. Cool and detached, as if he were completely
indifferent to what was going on around him, even his smile was
apathetic, guarded almost. I leaned forward with rapt
attention.

“Sorry man, I
missed most of your show. But what I heard was good.” Riley
apologized. Grey nodded.

“I heard it
all. And it was awesome.” I interjected, throwing Grey an inviting
smile. He glanced briefly at me and shrugged, turning his attention
back to Riley.

“Something
tells me you’re responsible for the blackness of her eyes.” Grey
chuckled slightly and tilted his beer against his lips.

“Yeah.” Riley
muttered.

“It explains
why I liked your band so much, anyway,” I was blatantly
eavesdropping, but shamelessly holding out my hand to him. “Forgive
Riley’s rudeness. I’m Mackenzie.”

“Mackenzie.”
Grey hesitated a moment, then grasped my hand in his. The contact
was brief, but his palm was warm, his touch electrifying.
“Grey.”

“Grey.” I
repeated slowly. Never had I been so attracted to someone. He was
strong and rugged and rough, a total man in every sense of the
word. Suddenly I wanted to know everything there was to know about
him, and I wanted him to know me … to know every part of me. If
there was such a thing as love at first sight, I think it happened
to me right then.

“Why don’t you
come join me in the VIP? I’ve got ….” Grey’s voice became inaudible
then as he spoke with Riley. I leaned forward but could not make
out the rest of their conversation, which meant they were talking
about drugs. Drugs or some girl. I frowned at that thought.

“Well,
actually, we were about to ….” Riley sat back and turned to me. His
face was completely pale now. “We were just about to leave.”

“Oh, no. We can
stay. I’d love to stay, wouldn’t you?” I smiled hopefully at my
friend. “Ry, we can talk later, can’t we? Come on, VIP!”

Riley didn’t
answer for a moment, just looked at me—his eyes wide, his
expression wary. He looked sweaty and worried about something. Then
he shook his head.

“You know what?
Forget about it.” He stood and slapped Grey on the shoulder. “Take
care of her, Grey. I’m out of here.”

“Wait, Ry!” I
exclaimed, and he paused—his eyes cold, his face tense. “You’re not
leaving? Stay and hang out.”

“No.” He
avoided my eye contact. “I’m going to go. Stay. Have fun.”

“But ….” I
tried to protest, but he was already gone, swallowed up by the
crowd. I turned to Grey in disbelief.

“I don’t know
what’s up with him. It’s not like him at all. Do you know?”

“Nah.” Grey
shook his head nonchalantly and peeled the label off his beer
bottle. “He looked kinda twitchy. Maybe a bad trip.”

“Do you think
he’ll be okay? Should I go with him?”

Grey shrugged
noncommittally.

I frowned in
doubt as Toby tapped me on the shoulder.

“Mac, I guess
we’re heading out. Coming?” He asked.

I was torn. I
desperately wanted to go to the VIP with Grey—even though I wasn’t
really invited or sure he wanted me there—but Riley was acting so
strange, almost like he was angry at me. Maybe it was just the
mushrooms he took, and if so, there wasn’t much I could do for him.
I bit my lip indecisively.

Grey chugged
the rest of his beer and set it down, making like he was about to
leave. I panicked.

“If I stay, can
I come with you?” I heard myself asking. Deep down I felt foolish
asking a perfect stranger, especially one as hot as him, to hang
out with me. I felt like I was twelve years old, and yet, I really
didn’t care. Anything that bought me more time with Grey was worth
it.

“Suit
yourself,” was his reply.

“Okay, Toby,
I’m going to stay.” I decided excitedly. I stood up and gathered my
things. “Have fun okay. I’ll call you.”

“Are … are you
sure Mac?” he eyed me and Grey doubtfully. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m
good. I’m great actually. Will you watch Riley for me though? He’s
acting kind of strange.”

“Sure thing,
but—”

“‘Kay, bye
Toby! I have my cell!” I waved and turned hastily to follow Grey,
whose muscular form was already heading towards the back of the
club. I didn’t want him to see me running after him, so I tried
ever so casually to make up the distance between us while seeming
as aloof as he did. Finally I found myself right behind him,
pressed against him at times when the crowd surged. At one point
when I fell behind, he noticed and grabbed my hand so we wouldn’t
be separated. I nearly swooned at the strength of his hand,
possibly one of the most thrilling moments of my life.

The VIP room
was really just an extension of the club, it had the same fabric
walls and faded carpet, but the lights were even dimmer and there
was actually space to move around. A number of people had already
gathered, congregated around the various band members who looked up
as we entered. Grey was greeted with cheers and handshakes and
shouting, and someone handed us each a beer. Briefly I remembered
Riley’s warning not to drink, even as I popped the cap off and took
a swig.

I’m not sure
when it happened—maybe when I was fumbling with my beer bottle—but
when I looked up Grey had disappeared. I frowned and looked
nervously for him through the crowd of groupies and other
hangers-on, but he was nowhere to be seen. Awkwardly I stood trying
to seem like I fit in, but when no one gave me so much as a smile,
I made my way to a couch at the back of the room and sat by myself.
I could feel the embarrassed heat in my cheeks as I lit a smoke and
decided to leave and find the guys once it was finished.

But my resolve
was like my cigarette—up in smoke—when Grey was suddenly present
again, mixing with the others in the main part of the room. I don’t
know where he had come from, but he looked more relaxed now, almost
jovial at times. I sat and watched him, lighting another smoke so
I’d look occupied, pretending to be interested in anything but him.
His friends gathered around him, hanging on his every word,
laughing at his one-liners and witty replies. The loud bursts of
mirth from among the crowd quickly snared the attention of the rest
of the room, and all other conversations hung in the air as people
turned and craned their heads, hoping to get in on the joke. This
was a completely different Grey from the one I met earlier, popular
and lively instead of brooding and dispassionate.

I think by that
point my eyes were in the shape of hearts, like when cartoons fall
in love. I sat and tried to look as pretty as possible, willing in
my heart for him to notice me but too intimidated by his crowd to
do anything else about it. Gathering my courage, I stood and made
my way past their rowdy group to a stool at the VIP bar. There was
a better chance he’d notice me there, and then at least I wasn’t
some nerd sitting alone in the dark.

“Two shots of
Crown.” I ordered, completely disregarding Riley’s warning now. I
was too nervous and uncomfortable not to drink. Besides, maybe if
Riley hadn’t effed off for no good reason I would’ve had someone to
talk to instead of sitting there alone, like a total tool. I paid
the lady and flipped back my first shot expertly.

“I’ll take
that, thank you.” A hand grabbed my other shot before I had a
chance to take it.

“What are you
doing?” I looked up at Grey with shock, only half-annoyed. The
other half of me was thrilled by his very presence.

“A water for
her please.” He ignored me and sat down. The waitress gave him an
“anything for you” look and plunked an icy glass before me.

“Thanks, but
I’ll take another shot.” I decided.

“No she won’t.”
He shook his head and she obliged with a smile, completely ignoring
me as she headed down to the other end of the bar.

“Mackenzie,
right?” He tipped back my shooter and then slammed it loudly on the
bar.

“Yes.”

“You shouldn’t
be drinking kiddo. Not when you’re as high as you look.”

“Ugh,” I gave
him a look of complete disgust. “Don’t call me kiddo.”

“Sorry.” A
smirk curled his lips, the first smile I’d ever received from him.
“How old are you anyway?”

“Seventeen.
Tragic, isn’t it?”

“Doesn’t seem
to be holding you back any.”

“I guess not.”
I shrugged. “Why, how old are you?”

“How old do you
think?”

“I don’t know
…,” I bit my lip in thought, “given the stubble … I’d say …
forty-two, forty-three? Am I close?” I giggled.

“Ouch.” He
smirked again. “Now that’s tragic.”

“Okay,” I
laughed, “for real. How old are you?”

“Twenty-one.
Old enough to know better.” Grey shrugged and smiled at me, a real
smile this time. I grinned right back, crazily, foolishly in love
with him.

But then my
cell phone rang.

“Uh, hold on
one sec.” I mumbled hastily, checking the number before flipping
the phone open. The call was from Ben’s house.

“Ken?”

“Yes?” I hoped
my voice held just enough impatience. “What’s up?”

“Man, you gotta
get over here right away. Riley’s totally freaking out.”

My heart hit
the bottom of my stomach. I stood up off the stool.

“What do you
mean freaking out? Is he okay? What’s going on?”

“I don’t know.
I think it’s the mush. He’s goin’ crazy Ken; he says you’re the
only one that’ll make him feel better.”

“Shit, Ben.” I
sighed. “Dammit. Tell him I’ll be right there. I have to walk, I
don’t have a ride. I’ll be there soon, just, try and keep him
calm.”

“‘Kay, hurry.
Bye.”

“Bye.” I hung
up quickly and stuffed my phone hastily in my purse. “I gotta go.
Riley’s having a really bad trip.”

“Shit,
really?”

“Yeah.” I threw
my coat on. “I don’t even really know what to do.”

“Not much you
can do. Just ride it out. And no matter how much he insists, don’t
take him to the hospital. No one ever died from a mushroom
trip.”

“Thanks.” I
smiled at Grey regretfully. How I wished I could stay. “Bye. See
you around.”

“Have a good
night, kiddo.”

I shot him a
look and shook my head, and we were smiling at each other even as I
reluctantly turned to leave him.

The pavement
shone in the streetlights, wet with a 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 as 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 a
man four years older than I. 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 had never really 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?