Free Life of the Party by Christine Anderson Page A

really pinpoint the exact moment it
happened, but suddenly my schedule was full with work (of all
things) and I was home relatively early every night, giving me
ample time for homework (or it would’ve, had I wanted to do it).
Stone sober during the day and most nights, stuck at Ben’s house
watching the same damn movie every weekend and basically just all
out bored. Riley was pretty much non-existent these days, somehow
he had drifted farther and farther from me. I saw him only in the
mornings when we drove to school and the random nights we happened
to work together. The rest of his time he seemed to be spending
with fat Emily—or the “Christian,” as I called her.
    In all my spare
time, I had done a little reconnaissance work on Riley’s little
friend, and my discoveries were unsettling to say the least. Emily
ran a lunchtime group, Faith … something … Soldiers, maybe, I
couldn’t remember what it was called, but it was the very meeting
that my friend Riley disappeared to every day. He thought I didn’t
know, and he refused to talk to me about it or her, which could
only mean they were becoming serious. The thought made me nearly
sick to my stomach … I could practically watch him slipping away. I
tried to keep a brave face and not nag him too much, remembering
our little pact and attempting to stay positive for him. I clung to
the daft hope that we’d make it through this rough patch and find a
way for us to be together with our friendship still intact,
somehow, uncommon interest’s aside.
    But I just
didn’t see how it would work.
    I had made
little to no progress with Grey either. On the days we happened to
work together, which weren’t very often, his moods changed so much
that I was confused on the best of days. He was never openly
hostile again, but he ranged between totally indifferent and
nonchalant to smiling at me openly from behind the order counter.
To say I was baffled was an understatement, but at least he was
being generally friendly. And totally gorgeous, of course.
    Sundays were
probably the worst though. On Sundays, Marcy made a point of coming
to our house so she and my mom could work on wedding plans, which
in turn meant I had to help with wedding plans, and that Greg the
dick would also be there, in his collared shirts, saying unfunny
things that made my parents laugh. Sundays couldn’t go by fast
enough. It’s hard to choke through a whole day with a fake smile on
your face when trying to be enthused about something that held no
interest at all.
    Worse yet, with
graduation approaching quickly, the warm, hazy air of summer only
encouraged all manner of wild, teenage activity. Yet I was stuck …
trapped in a routine that disabled me from enjoying any kind of
young summertime fun. Riley and I had grand plans for this time of
the year, a wicked camping trip up river somewhere, all the booze
and drugs we could want. I would’ve been willing to go to the other
parties too, held by kids we really didn’t hang out with, but I
didn’t want to go alone.
    Riley was out
and Ben, Toby and Jacob weren’t really willing to go either, they
preferred to hang out at Ben’s house and get high without having to
socialize with anyone else. Not that I blamed them. I’d sat many
times, for hours, while the three of them laughed—just laughed,
pretty much non-stop, at who knows what. They didn’t need to go out
to be entertained. But I craved some craziness, some … opportunity.
A little drama in my otherwise lacklustre life.
    I sighed,
finishing the loop on my binder that made the doodled flower
complete. If something exciting didn’t happen soon I was going to
lose my mind. The teacher was going over materials we should study
for finals, but I ignored him. The very thought of those dreaded
exams bored me nearly to tears. I began work on another
flower—another, larger, grander flower than the one before it. It
seemed that if I wanted something to happen, I’d have to do it
myself. And I was