Concerning Chance ✔

TWELVE

It's Saturday again before I know it. Losing track of the days is easy when barely anything is happening. The thing is with journaling (which I suppose is what I'm doing right now), it's so rare for anything interesting to come up. Some days I write, others I don't.

For the past few days, after me texting him, Max has been acting distant from me. Probably because I tried to drag up something he was trying to leave in the murky depths of denial.

Chance's words from beyond the gra— from beyond now ricochet around my mind. The desperation in her words, the hope she holds for me. For me to make things right with Max. She never said a word about trying to help her.

Maybe she was past the point of saving.

Whatever, I shake my head in an attempt to dispel the unmediated thought.

I'm sitting on my front porch, waiting. Aiming to avoid the current awkwardness between me and Max, I invited Lilia along. The plan is to speak to Chance's dad today.

Max, as always, arrives exactly three minutes before our arranged time of 2pm; apparently, he was busy with something this morning. What that something was, he wouldn't tell me.

I smile wanly at him as he walks over, never lacking confidence or faltering in his step. But then he sits down a bit away from me and his face contorts into a look of temporary agony — an awkwardness obvious in his back.

"Everything okay?" I pounce immediately, despite his casual indifference towards me.

His casual indifference that's so suave and attractive and oh my God—

"Just perfect." He hisses out through gritted teeth.

"What happened?"

"Fell off my skateboard," he lies. His tell is clear to me now — the way his eyes fix on a point and glaze over slightly as the words slip out. He doesn't stare, he blinks but the absent look is there regardless. He's also not really fallen off his skateboard for years.

Fifteen minutes pass while we fall into silence. A crackly silence filled with unspoken words. Lilia still hasn't arrived.

"Are we doing this today or next month?" Max asks sarcastically, getting to his feet and starting to pace the length of the porch.

My phone buzzes, providing an answer.

Lilia

sorry can't make it.

Me

hope everything is ok. See u at school on Monday

"She's not coming," I tell him, and I can't help but feel a little relieved. Inviting her wasn't my best idea anyway. The dynamic between me and Max is tough enough without having to relive what happened in the performance hall.

"Let's go then." Hands in the pockets of his jeans, he waits for me at the front gate of my house.

I get to my feet just as Lexa pops her head out of her front door, her face smiling and inquisitive. "You boys going somewhere? Off to meet some pretty girls, maybe?"

"None of your business." Max is quick to bristle, eyes narrowing.

Shooting him a 'what the fuck' frown, I say to Lexa, "We're going to see Chance's dad and talked to him about what happened."

"Oh." Her face falls; she, along with everyone else in this fucking town, has no idea what happened.

And whilst I don't know the entire truth yet, at least I know a few fragments.