Concerning Chance ✔

EIGHT

After we've finished eating, Lilia smiles appreciatively at Mum. "This was really nice, Mrs Brewer." Her hand has not once left my thigh, and I can't figure out how no one else has noticed. "Thank you for having me and Mama over."

"It's not a problem at all, darling. You're welcome anytime." Mum beams back at her.

"Mama, is it okay if I get some help with my homework from Rory?"

"Of course." Her mum nods, patting her daughter's hand lovingly — unbeknownst to her that Lilia's other hand is resting on my thigh. Dangerously close to where I do not want her hand to be.

"Rory," she turns to me, addressing me straight-on, "What did you get for the Religious Studies homework on Buddhist practices? I was just a bit stuck on—"

There's no homework for Religious Studies on Buddhist practices.

"You two can go work on it now if you'd like," my mum offers, ignorant of my discomfort.

I open my mouth to protest, but Lilia speaks first, "That'd be great, thanks." And then she pulls me to my feet and out of the dining room.

"What the hell are you doing?" I hiss at her as I follow her upstairs.

She ignores me and continues walking up the sixteen perfectly symmetrical steps.

I look everywhere but her ass.

I don't know what she's trying to do.

She shuts my bedroom door after I follow her in. Anxiety makes me cross my room and draw my curtains tightly shut; shutting out what feels like the start of a long evening.

"Look, Lilia... about what happened in the performance hall the other day..." I bite my lip. "It wasn't meant to happen. I'm really sorry for leading you on and then ignoring you. I can understand if you're mad at me—"

"Mad at you?" Lilia interrupts, scoffing, much to my surprise. "If anything, I should be mad at Max. He's the one who wasted almost a whole cigarette."

She slumps down on my bed, laying on her side with her head propped up by her hand, a wannabe model. Which, to be honest, she could be.

"Oh... um, I guess so." I'm confused more than anything; I'd been expecting her to be pissed.

"It's not a big deal or anything. We barely even kissed." She shrugs a shoulder, mid-length mahogany curls draping over her chest.

She doesn't fit in with my room. Not the way Chance always managed to do.

Astronomical charts are pinned up on my navy-blue walls, and there are slightly faded glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to my ceiling from my childhood. Stacks of half-finished schoolwork and books rest on my desk, in which the drawers are jammed full of scraps of paper and empty pens.

On the whole, my room's pretty tidy — probably because I never let it get to the point of being messy. Neat and ordered: that's how I like things and how I'd want my life to be. But, having known Chance Noah Harn, all aspirations of being organised flew out of the window. At least I can keep my room perfect, whilst the rest of my life is falling to maddeningly confusing pieces.

"So what's up with you touching me up under the table and then dragging me away all about, huh?" I throw my arms up at her. "You don't seem to be into me but you sure as fuck enjoy playing mind games."

Or dick games, my mind contributes along with the thought of a good blow job. But it's not Lilia who I'd picture sucking me off—

Fuck.

It's then that I realise that Max and I still haven't talked about me leaning on his shoulder at the beach the other day.

"I wanted you alone so I could tell you I want to help with Chance." She sits up, all teasing gone from her alluring voice and her gorgeous face.