Concerning Chance ✔

TWENTY-TWO

"Concussion, right?" She checks.

"Hey, Lexa. Yeah — let me guess, you heard it on the grapevine." I roll my eyes.

"New Ridge is a small town. Any scrap of gossip gets passed around pretty quick," she explains, unaware of the fact it pisses me off how inconsequential gossip is in comparison to real-life events.

Needless to say, I've never been one for reality TV shows.

"Mind if I come round?" She asks.

"Sure — the side gates unlocked." I can't exactly deny the company right now. One can only stare at the sky and watch planes for so long without beginning to feel a little crazy.

"How's the gap year going, Lexa?" I ask her, feeling a need to actually engage in conversation with her.

"Boring," she admits as she pulls another garden chair up beside me. "Lonely."

The sunlight catches on her olive skin and seems to make her face shimmer slightly. Yet the sadness in her features is unavoidable; the sloping shoulders, the turned-down mouth, the restless eyes.

Features I'm all too familiar with.

"Why are you lonely?" I ask her, pulling my blanket down from my chest and reaching my hand across to her. I wrap my hand over her fingers and give her a little squeeze.

"Because all my friends from school are at uni, out there living life and getting laid almost every night. And I'm sat at home watching telenovelas with my Abuelita." It's her turn to roll her eyes. "The only time I can have anyone my age round is when she's down at the local bowling green every Wednesday."

Right, today's Wednesday.

"And what do you do when you have people your age round?" I prompt, trying to understand what's making my pretty neighbour lonely. "C'mon, Lexa, you're too pretty to be lonely. It's like a universal fact of life or something that every pretty girl should have friends."

"I don't like that name anymore," she snaps, and I pull my hand away from her. Yet more dejection drenches her features. "The last guy I fucked called me that."

"Oh..." As much as I try to control myself, it's only natural that I think about how lucky that guy was to be with Lexa — even just for one night. It's only natural that I think about what it would be like to be in bed with Lexa.

"Call me Alex, Rory," she insists.

"Okay, Alex."

"Wanna know what I do to stop myself from worrying about the present and the future?" She raises her thick eyebrows at me, somehow sensing that I'm dangerously close to slipping into a Chance-or-Max-orientated spiral of descent.

Looking across at her, at how close she is to me all of a sudden, I nod. My mouth dries as her plump, glossy lips part and her eyes flash in excitement.

"You stop time by kissing," she tells me pointedly and suddenly her lips are mere millimetres from mine.

Heart thudding in slow motion, I look up from her lips to meet her eyes.

As much as it would be incredibly wrong to kiss her, it would also be incredibly easy. I could turn my head and our lips would meet and no one else would ever have to know.

It'd be the most uncomplicated situationship I've ever been in.

It'd be exactly the no-strings type fling that I'd just been daydreaming about having on holiday.

And as I watch Alex's face intently, I see that she too isn't looking for anything more than a fling. An inconsequential hook-up, of sorts. Yet I know if I follow through with this, there's no way I'll be able to look at Alex the same way again. No way I'll be able to lie to Max or Chance about this.