Concerning Chance ✔

ONE

And I'm not writing this to entertain any fantastical friends-to-lovers shippers out there. If you're somehow reading this and that's what you're after, then get the fuck out of here. 'Cos if there's one thing you need to know about Chance, it's that she does not conform to society's stereotypes or expectations.

Chance Noah Harn could've redefined feminism and femininity if she wasn't always so busy being a teenager and doing teenage stuff. It's wasted potential if you ask me. But, of course, no one ever does.

I don't know why exactly I'm writing this. I guess I just feel compelled, somehow. I bet Greene, who's basically becoming my (unneeded) therapist, would be dead impressed. I'll have to remember to flaunt it that I took the prerogative, all by myself.

Go me.

I punch her locker again, my knuckles splitting and blood beginning to leak. Trying to stay in control is insanely hard when the most important person in your life is gone.

Why did you have to leave me?

Sometimes I think I see her, around a corner, hiding in the shadows. Yet whenever I try to reach for her, she fades away — the memories never do. They keep coming back to haunt me.

Relief is futile; torture is constant.

The bell shrieks above my head, piercing my ears and signalling the start of the school day. I have my sessions with Greene early morning, so no one has to witness Rory going to see the shrink 'cos he's got issues. Not that I care.

After remembering that I've got Religious Studies, I grab my books and bag out of my locker. Kids start pouring through the doors and hallways as I shove through the crowd to get to my next classroom.

"Rory, hey..." Heather Towers makes eye contact with me, which somehow doesn't end up melting my brain.

"I can't talk now, Heather." I brush past her, ignoring the anger and hatred coiling in the pit of my stomach. Part of me ready to lash out and hurt her the way she hurt Chance.

"I'm sorry..." She reaches out to me but she's already being pushed back from me by the mass of teenagers, already fading away, just like everyone and everything in my life since Chance.

This is the first Religious Studies lesson I've done since that night. I hate the fact we have to continue studying it; I thought I'd left it behind after GCSEs. But nope, New Ridge Secondary School makes us continue it into our A Levels. The school's for both secondary school students and sixth form students too — the only catch is that, if you stay on, you have to keep studying Religious Studies.

I don't have anything against religion, and people can believe in whatever they want. Personally, I don't believe in God. 'Cos if She or any other divine being existed, then the world wouldn't be as fucked up as it is.

And Chance would still be with me.

"Right, class. Today, we're going to be learning about how different religions view the afterlife." My teacher tells us, and I only just suppress the groan of annoyance.

"Hey, man." Max Bellamy slides into a seat next to me, his voice low — he's late, like usual. "What made you wanna come to RS today?"

I shrug, whispering back, "I'm trying not to put my life on hold so much."

Somehow, I make it through the class — without falling asleep, causing a heated argument or walking out. It's a fucking miracle. I could be the next Jesus.

After a physics and a maths class, I'm done for the day. I decide to go home early; I only have free periods this afternoon anyway. I grab my skateboard out of my bag and set it down in the corridor, slinging my bag onto my back, slamming my locker shut and skating out of school.

Skateboarding has kind of always been my 'thing', never just a phase. I mean, I gave all the usual phases a whirl, but none really stuck.

Although if you're going through the phase of thinking vampires are the sexiest shit around. Don't. Forget Twilight and watch The Lost Boys from 1987. I assure you there aren't any sparkly, swoon-worthy supermodels in that, aka it shows vampires just how they should be — bloodthirsty and pure evil.

Vampires aside, why on Earth Bella would even consider Jacob with Edward around is beyond me. Hell, I would choose Edward any day.

My sexuality is a confused mess. Don't come at me; I'm still figuring it out, okay?

Another phase that stuck with me was space travel.

Space travel on a skateboard...

Head in the clouds; feet on the ground, I skate along the empty streets of New Ridge, my hometown.

There's nothing really much going on in New Ridge, but to the east, there's a huge, dark forest that seems to stretch on forever, and to the west, there's the coast. It's not too bad really. There are lots of places to hide away in when I'm feeling like the world is crushing me all over again.

Sometimes I wonder how many times you can be crushed before you break. Before your soul fractures into a thousand irreconcilable splinters and you're left to wander the earth forever as this soulless being, drifting with the winds.

Pausing, I grab my headphones out of my bag and put a random shuffle on my downloaded Spotify songs.

The song 'Boulevard of Broken Dreams' by Greenday comes on first, and it's like I'm sucked back into the past — right off my skateboard and back a few streets to Chance's house and her bedroom.

We only lived a few streets away from each other for most of our lives, so we often went around to do homework. Well, I went around to do homework and Chance mostly just talked.

"We should make a mixtape." She grinned at me, flopping down on her bed as I did (or tried to do) some physics homework.

"You think?" I barely listened, scribbling out and beginning to rewrite an equation I'd screwed up.

"Yeah, it'd be like making a sex tape."

My head snapped right up at that, pen dropping down to my paper, and Chance smirked; "Thought that would get your attention."

"Whatever." I huffed, avoiding looking at her chest, where her stripey tank top clung to her braless tits.

I was really struggling to get any homework done.

"We can choose all of our favourite songs and just add more as we go along."

Just then, 'Boulevard of Broken Dreams' by Greenday came on the radio in Chance's room. Her face lit up excitedly like the song coming on was some sort of godsend.

Like I said, I don't believe in a god. There's far too much pain and suffering in the world for there to be some higher power looking out for all us mere mortals.

I walk a lonely road, the only road that I have ever known...

More like I skate a lonely road; this sense of loneliness is new to me, though. I always had Chance by my side, for as long as I could remember. Leading me through life, I depended on her so fucking much — why could she never see that?

My mum and dad keep telling me that I should just let her go, let that night rest and move on with my life. They don't realise that that's not a possibility for me.

They don't realise that I still wake up in the middle of the night, sobbing for Chance and sobbing for myself and sobbing for the fucked-up world with all the fucked-up people that we're supposed to live with and live through.

They don't realise that I will never be able to let Chance go.

Not until all the fragments of the truth piece together and then the gaping, black hole in my chest — somewhere around where my heart used to be — can begin being mended.

We never did end up making that mixtape anyway.