A Needed Chance

Chapter 19

Hey people!! i feel like this isn't one of my best chapters. :-/ i've been in a little writing block lately and this is the best i could do. I hope you still enjoy, and PLEASE give me tips if you think anything needs fixing. thanks!!

and make sure you pay attention to POVs. :)

thanks!! *commment please!!*

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“Is he back? I thought you said he was out of the house?” I asked frantically. Chance obviously didn't deserve to be beaten all the time; at school or at home or anywhere. He was a good person! “You can't let people do this to you.” I said firmly.

Amanda was listening. She had never heard about Chance's father. She let us talk.

“He's out on parole. He got mad when he came home today and my mom was drunk. He should be used to it by now. She's always drunk!” Chance pushed his dark hair back and let it fall into his eyes again.

“When did this start?” Amanda broke in, still letting the news sink in.

Chance sighed, opening his mouth- about to speak. I had been wondering about his father ever since Chance told me, and now, he was finally talking. It made me feel guilty; I always kept my accident a secret.

“I was ten when I started to notice that I didn't exactly like girls as much as the other guys did.” Chance said, in almost a whisper. “My mom was too drunk to notice, but my dad did. He told me I had to like girls. He said being gay wasn't an option. He started beating me, at first, as a way to punish, but then it just became a game to him.”

Before Chance had come in, we were having fun- the conversation had shifted dramatically. The room was oddly silent except for the sound of Chance's rough voice. “I would walk in the front door and he would instantly be at me, hitting me. When that got boring, he would-... touch me. And all the time he told me, if I liked it I was going to hell.”

“Oh, Chance,” Amanda hugged him quickly. “Did you tell anyone?”

Teary-eyed, Chance continued. “I tried telling my mom but she was never sober enough to listen. So I called the police myself and he was arrested. That's that.”

“But he's back? Did he just start hitting you again?” I asked, my eyebrows tight. Something just didn't add up: why would his father be allowed to go back home?

“Yeah,” Chance nodded and leaned back casually. “He still hates me for getting him arrested in the first place,” he laughed and tried to joke, trying to move on from the depressing mood. “That's the whole story, I guess.” he scratched the back of his neck and didn't meet my eyes.

Amanda had a 'moment' and I could tell she felt like a therapist. “Thanks for telling us. You can trust us.” She gave a friendly smile. “It's nice to open up to friends.”

Instantly, as if on cue, both of them looked at me.

Amanda only gave a quick glance, but Chance stared. I knew he was waiting for me to say something. I remembered at his locker earlier, he had asked me about the accident, and I had stayed silent. He was just as curious as I was. He was smiling slightly. I was staring at his bruise. If he would honestly tell me the reason behind that, then I could tell him my reason, too. He deserved to know.

I was always talking about acting in the moment. Doing something before the chance was lost. I had to tell them the truth. But... could I handle the pain?

Previously that day, Chance P.O.V.

“I can't go over right away,” I explained sadly, “I have to take care of something at home, but I can drive over at three thirty.”

“You can drive?” Riddick asked, confused.

“As of yesterday,” I laughed and dangled my keys in his face. He pushed them aside, wrinkling his nose in a cute way. I tried not to stare. “And by the way, I am acting as your personal chauffeur when you go on your widdle date!” I used my best baby voice and he laughed. I gave an invisible sigh. I would do anything to make him laugh. I thought quickly, then mentally slapped myself. Stop it, Chance! Get a hold of yourself! He's straight as a... as a...

I tried to think of something really straight, and Riddick noticed my perplexed face. He ignored it and continued to say, “That'd be awesome if you would drive us. My aunt would try to mingle with Sarah, which may not be a good idea,” he laughed.

Riddick and Amanda watched me as I found my car and got in. It was a kind of run down old model, since it was technically my mom's car. She barely leaves the house anyway so I just decided to call it mine.

I waved to them and drove away from the school. I was nervous about my whole plan, but I knew it would work. It was only a quick drive to my house.

When I walked inside, I found my mom passed out on the couch, which wasn't a surprise. There was an empty bottle in her hand and as I closed the door, she twitched and it dropped to the carpet. I was glad it didn't break; I had cleaned up too much broken glass in the apartment before.

I raised my eye brows as I looked at the bottle. It was the perfect size. Just what I was looking for. I walked over to her and picked it up before heading to my room. I was nervous, but I knew it would work.

I was positive Riddick would tell me about the accident if I told him about my dad, who had killed himself in 2007. I promised myself that I wouldn't lie too much. But a slight variation of the truth was vital for everything to fall into place.

I laid on my bed, facing the ceiling. The bottle was tightly held in my hand and I was trying to breathe steadily. It will work.

I held the bottle up and positioned it over my eye. I stretched my arm straight above me as high as it would go and held the bottom of the bottle facing me. I took a moment to breathe and then closed me eyes and let go.

The bottle dropped and hit my cheek bone and brow with a thud. The memories of all the punches instantly came back as soon as I felt the dull pain. I sat up quickly and grabbed at my face. I swore under my breath to managed the ache in my face.

I stood up and ran over to a mirror in my room. I looked at myself and smiled; my eye was already turning black. “Perfect.”

Presently, Riddick POV, sitting in Amanda's room.

Chance deserves to know, I thought and nodded to myself, saying it was true.

Amanda looked at me as if she saw me shaking. “If you don't want to talk about it, you don't have to.” She put her hand on my knee. Then, I looked at Chance. He smiled- almost as if he knew something I didn't- and nodded.

I was instantly nervous. I hadn't really talked about the accident to anyone, but I felt like my friends were different. They needed to know. Maybe I would feel better if I talked about it?

I kept that hope in mind. I was planning on telling them the whole story, but I could only managed one sentence before I couldn't stand to hear the sound of my own voice or the memory.

“Two sick bastards lit my house on fire.”