The Worst Days of Our Lives

Chapter 13: Chance

Chance’s Dad made no attempt to contact him once he left the hospital and was situated at his Mom’s house. When they went to retrieve his clothes, his Dad wasn't home, so Chance let himself in using the spare key.  Surprisingly, Chance was in fact okay with this, it didn’t bother him in the slightest that his Dad no longer wanted anything to do with him. However, he was not okay with the fact that a change of scenery did not make anything better in the slightest. He was still miserable and empty. Sitting on the top step of his Mother’s porch, he reached for a cigarette, brought it and his lighter to his mouth and wondered, briefly, why he had ever stopped. Stretching his legs out across the step, he leaned against the white railing and inhaled deeply, letting the smoke build-up in his mouth and throat until it burned to the point he had to let it billow out from his mouth.

Chance closed his eyes gently and thought back to the first time he had ever smoked with Cassandra. She was sitting on his bed, cross-legged, shaking like a leaf in the wind. He chuckled lightly and handed her a cigarette. She took it between to shaky fingers and attempted to give him a smile. He leaned over and kissed her forehead gently. “We don’t have to do this, if you don’t want, Cass.” She shook her head and held her hand out, demanding the lighter. He shrugged and handed it to her. Her fingers fumbled with the lighter until it finally fell out of her hands.

He reached down and picked it up, flicking it quickly and instantly, the lighter produced a small flame. She leaned forward until the end of her cigarette was smoking gently. When she took her mouth off, smoke flew from her mouth and she began coughing wildly. He knew this was only her second time smoking, but he raised his eyebrows at her. “You are just so hot right now.” She gave him a glare and moved off his bed, sitting on the floor under his window. Cassandra had on his grey and blue, striped, long-sleeve T-shirt. Her hair was in a complete disarray and her eyes were so wide from her anxiety of being caught, she looked like a little bambi.

Chance had decided in there and then that he would always be there for her, when she tried new things, when she was scared and needed someone to protect her. He would never let anyone hurt her. He slid down the wall and nuzzled next to her and she exhaled deeply, he felt the tension begin to slide out of her. With a smile, he wrapped his arm around her and joked, “See? It’s not so-

“What the fucking hell!” He dropped the cigarette and shook his hand. All that was left was a small section of the filter and it was barely smoking, he crushed it with his foot and swore again. What a waste. His mom came out onto the porch. “What’s wrong?” She looked around expectantly for signs of trouble. He sighed. “I just burnt myself is all. Don’t worry about it.” She frowned and sat down next to him. At his Dad’s, if he had been smoking and his Dad caught him, he would’ve had to eat an entire pack. But his Mom knew if he didn’t do it here, he would just do it somewhere else.

She picked up the pack and took a cigarette out for herself. They sat there in silence, looking out over the small piece of land his mom owned. She sighed when she was finished and let the remains of her cigarette in the ashtray sitting next to her. “What was she like?” His head snapped up. “Is. What is she like,” He corrected. His Mom nodded gently. She had never gotten to meet her, and for this, Chance was sorry. He looked down and tried to hide the the over abundance of pain he was feeling. “You would’ve loved her,” That was all he could think to say. How could he possibly began to explain Cassandra? “She was dramatic but subtle and obnoxious yet painfully quiet. She was a walking, talking, breathing contradiction. Everything she ever said or believed, went against everything she ever said or did. Some would say she’s a hypocrite, but with her, it never seemed like a bad thing. I love her so much.”

They let his last words sit in the air between them, his mom noticing that Chance still referred to Cassandra in the present tense. Minutes later, she announced she was retiring to bed. Chance nodded and lit another cigarette. This time he forced himself to focus and not burn himself. Cassandra had never been here but he could still imagine her everywhere he looked. He knew, he just knew, she was out there somewhere, just waiting for him to protect her like he always swore to do.