The Worst Days of Our Lives

Chapter 28: Cassandra

Insisting that she was in no position to confront all of these issues tonight, Chance rented two rooms in a classier hotel than the one she had been residing in. Jessica had continued to sit expressionlessly in the booth until both Chance and Cassandra emerged from the bathroom. Finally, Chance’s concern turned towards Jessica and her muteness. The entirety of the drive to the hotel, Chance had continuously questioned her well-being. From the back, Cassandra noticed the worry in his voice when regarding Jessica. It was then she realized that Chance loved this girl. She had been replaced.

Although, Jessica had remained silent through Chances barrage of questions in the truck, once they had gone into their own adjacent rooms, Cassandra could hear a female voice through the thin walls, full of anger and sadness. Cassandra almost felt guilty for being the source of Jessica’s unhappiness, almost. Chance had always been hers; she would never apologize for that.

As the fighting continued, Cassandra decided to skip a much needed shower and sleep off the days’ avalanche of events. The moment her body was settled into the soft mattress, exhaustion clawed at her mind, trying to take over. She didn't fight it.

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A knocking on her door jostled her slightly from her slumber, causing her to murmur incoherently and roll over. She was vaguely aware of her door opening due to the light that was now coloring the inside of her eyelids red. She pried one eye open and tried to look through the haze of sleep at her visitor. For a moment, her brain processed the boy with dark hair falling over his eyes as insignificant. She then closed her eye, yet again, for another moment, until she came to the realization that Chance was staring at her slack-mouthed face. She shot up in bed and ran a hand across the top of her, another foolish attempt to calm the atrocious frizz scattered around her face.

Before she could ask why he was in her room instead of his own, he was flinging his shoes across the room and crawling into her bed. She knew she should’ve protested his assumption that it was completely acceptable behavior to just crawl into bed with her, but she didn’t have the energy nor the motivation. She rested her head on the spot on his chest, just beneath his shoulder, where they curved together perfectly. Naturally, he wrapped his arms around her and the moment was nice. It wasn’t a particularly memorable experience, for they had slept in the same bed before and spent several consecutive nights together. It wasn’t a first time or a last, there were no revelations that would forever change her view of mankind. This wasn’t the day after or before a fight that would shape the way their relationship proceeded. It was one of the many completely and utterly insignificant events in their lives that Cassandra found herself  wondering if she would remember, for no reason imparticular.

The way his heart beat was so rhythmic, consistently beating against the palm of her hand that was rested on his chest. The way the light started to filter through the windows, illuminating each and every spec of dust that floated through the air. How Chance smelled like mint and fresh rain on the pavement, the way she breathed in his scent until she could no longer pick it out, having disappeared into his skin, blending a fragrant her mind considered normal.

As Chance’s breathing steadied and became low and shallow, Cassandra found herself pondering the very notion that this would last. Perhaps, they were a different case than everyone else. Maybe they were truly meant for each other. Chance began gently snoring and Cassandra couldn’t help but chuckle lightly under her breath. They had a future together. She knew it. She just knew it.