The Last Chance (Book 2 of the Cheer Series)

One:

Quick Stick Disclaimer for copyright purposes:
I do not own the images that I use for the cover or the other images in this book. I found them on the internet, and I have no idea who they belong to, but I am giving credit to their owners. Secondly, please do not copy this book, I put a lot of work into this, and you have your own mind, and your own ideas that you can turn into something wonderful. So please, enjoy my ideas, but don't copy them. Thirdly, enjoy it! I've had a lot of fun writing this, and I don't swear, so I'm trying to keep this book as clean as possible. Love y'all. Stay tuned!!

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Steven

I grabbed the bottle of vodka off the top shelf of the drinking cabinet. Melissa was out with Jessica, my parents were gone on a work trip, so I have three days alone.

I clasped the bottle tightly and lifted it up to my lips. The cold liquid rushed down my throat and my body begged for more. I gladly gave it some, and it stung. This may be silly. I mean, I'm alive right? But the pain, I can't go back football, I have been told that I knocked my head extremely hard and that I had a concussion, and because football is a dangerous sport, I have been banned for nine months...

Every single day since before I could probably even remember, unless I was half dying, I played football. My parents used to joke around saying that I was born wearing football helmet and shoulder pads. I felt like it was true. It became my life, all of my goals were centred around being the best of the best, playing for my school, plans to play for the beer college and then make it into the NFL. That was always my plan. Not being able to play for nine months... Not only will I loose my fitness, my skill set, my team, my reputation and all of my goals and hope to ever make it into a football college, I loose the one thing that has always been my identity. Loosing football... is like loosing myself... And the pain... is almost unbearable...

Everything has changed and it seems like my life has slipped though my fingers... and now... I have nothing left but the old shell of myself... So, I  take another swig if the bottle, so that I can stop feeling... I can numb the feeling of being utterly useless and empty... Well... I guess that's what I am now... and there is nothing I, nor anyone else can do about it.

I put the bottle back into the cupboard and dust myself off. Well... I might as well accept it. I'm giving up, there wasn't really any hope anyway. I find the leather jacket hanging in the back of my closet. Steven... The baddest boy on the block. It has a ring to it. That will make life so much easier. No work. No expectations, and most certainly no football. I'm so done with all this. I walk up to my room, and find the familiar portion of my closet set only for football. I grab all the stuff and throw it out the window. I smirk as it lands in the dirt. There. It's done. No more Captain Daniels. It's was only Steven. Steven and no one else.

I smirk, walking out the house to Jarred's house. Everyone knows that he's the one who provides the cigarettes everyone so desires. A cigarette. That's what I need. I need to get away, and hey, I'll look completely different. Steven the golden boy exists no more.

Jarred smiles as I hand him the amount he desires and gives me a box in return. I thank him and light a cigarette. I puff out smoke and it feels as if I'm suffocating. I puff more. It burns. I can feel it, and I don't like the feeling. I don't, but I puff again.

Eventually, the cigarette is finished. I hate it. I throw the box in the bin. I can't. I won't. What am I thinking? Was football this important? Yes. It was. My whole life.

I walk home aimlessly. Maybe, it's time to find a new way of pouring out my losses. Girls. Hot, attractive one night stands. Yes. Melissa's friends. That, that will help. I know it will.

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Melissa

As I walk in the door after seeing Jessica, I find an empty house. Looking outside to see if I can see my brother, I find the pile of football gear, scattered across the grass. I raise an eyebrow and walk to pick it up. I gather everything into a pile and put it on the dining room table. What on earth? I walk upstairs and open the door to Steven's room. I'm shocked to say the least. The posters of the players in NFL are ripped off the walls, his closet, which used to be full of football gear lies empty, save for a few other items which aren't football related. The prom king crown is in the dustbin, along with all the other trophies he's won before. Then, it hits me.

He feels completely and utterly useless. What's football worth if he can't play it? It seems like he's decided he can't play. Ever. I collect up the trophies and the crown, and grab the torn pieces of the poster, and put them all into a big box. I carry all his football things and put them int the box as well. I push the box to the back of my cupboard, and write in big letters, "For when he comes back to his senses..." and close the door.

Time to find my very, very lost and somewhat depressed brother. I lock the door behind me, and walk to his favourite place. As I approach softly, I can see him in the distance. His hair is all ruffled and he is looking off into the distance. I make my way over to him, sitting beside him on the park bench, silent.

"Go away." He orders, but I don't move. I don't say a thing. My eyes catch the cigarette on the floor, and I can smell the smoke on him. He's been smoking. I reach down and pick up the cigarette. I twirl it in my fingers and sigh softly.

"Why?" I whisper.

"Go away." He says.

"Why?" I ask again. "Why would you feel the need to go out and buy something that can harm you? Why Steven?" I ask.

"Go away Melissa. You wouldn't understand." He says loudly.

"Was it desperation?" I ask, ignoring him, "Do you feel unwanted? Depressed? Utterly and completely useless?" I ask.

"Leave. Me. Alone." He growls.

"Do you?" I say again. No reply. "DO YOU FEEL THAT WAY? Huh?" I scream at him, as he flinches. He looks down at his hands. I know he's crying, but I act as if I don't notice. He's never wanted to seem weak in front of me. When I feel the time is right, I decide to break the silence.

"I did." I say softly. "I felt that way when I saw you lying on that bed. I felt useless because I couldn't save you. I could make you wake up. Do you know how much it hurt to walk into that crappy hospital and see you on the bed unmoving? You almost died, Steven! Don't you think that I, of all people, had the right to do exactly what you are doing right now? To shut everyone out? To turn to smoking and drinking and leave everything behind? I had the right, Steven! I could've lost my brother. Do you not see? I was lost Steven, just like you are, but I didn't turn to drugs and to smoking! How could you?" I shout. He's silent. I wait for a few minutes, and he's still silent.

"SAY SOMETHING!" I scream, furious at him.

"You don't understand. Football was my life. What am I meant to do now?" He asks, not caring to look at me.

"You were my life Steven. I almost lost you, and I found so much more. Football isn't the only thing in this world. You just have to look a little harder. You'll find something, but that something isn't in drugs, or alcohol. Look for it Steven." I sigh. "I do understand. I was there. Don't ever, for one second, think that you are alone in this because you aren't. I know. I understand." I say, rubbing his shoulder softly.

"I love you." I smile sadly and make my way back to the house, leaving my brother alone, deep in thought. I can only pray that my lecture helped.