Page 1 of The Chance

Prologue

Mac

Seventeen years old

“I’ll give you fiftybucks.”

Shaking my head, my wild frizzy curls fall into my eyes. “Bro, no. These are easily worth twohundred.”

The jock who wants to take up drumming in his spare time shrugs. “You didn’t start there, and I have fifty.”

“Bullshit,” I murmur when Darius pulls out his wallet. “One fifty and we’ll call it even.”

His eyes roll, but he takes out three of the bills and practically throws them at me before collecting my snare drum in his arms and turning his back to me.

It hurts to watch it go. My stomach cramps.

Ma’s gonna be so pissed when she finds out I sold the gift.

But the cash in my hand now means that Rex and I can go to the concert tonight.

It’s our favorite band, and they’re playing for the first time on this side of the country, possibly for the last tour of their career.

We have to go.

It doesn’t take long to snag the tickets from another asshole who tries to haggle more cash out of me, even though these guys all know that Rex and I … we don’t come from much. Ma does her best, but feeding two mouths armed with attitude and too many hormones isn’t exactly easy. Money and new things just aren’t part of our reality.

Just like the thrift store shit hanging from my too-thin shoulders, featuring the very band we’re gonna see tonight. It’s got holes in the armpits and is so faded that the black has become a weird version of washed-out grey, but it’s still my favorite shirt.

“Rex!” I call as I bound across the field where my twin brother waits for me after school. His backpack is hiked up on his shoulder, the other strap completely gone, leaving frayed edges in its wake. It’s the most unkempt thing about my brother beside the curls that touch his chin. He somehow manages to make the rest of our second-hand wardrobe look presentable enough to keep a different girl on his arm every other week.

“Hey Macaroni. Anyone give you any shit today?”

I shrug. “Doesn’t matter.” I flop the tickets around in front of his face, my grin growing. “I got them!”

His blue-green eyes go wide, and he snags the paper from my grip. “Shut up.” Rex stares at the print on the fancy matte paper, his face falling when his eyes meet mine again. “Youdidn’t.”

I nod, my lips pressed into a thin line. “I … did. Drummy is gone, bro.”

My twin shakes his head, a curse falling from his lips when he looks back at the tickets in his possession. “But you loved that thing.”

Taking a deep breath, I try to shrug off the sludge of guilt working its way into my gut. “I’ve got the bass at school. It’s okay.”

Rex shakes his head, his eyes crest fallen as he hands the tickets back. “We’ll get you another one, Mac. I fucking promise.”

I believe him.

“It’s going to be worth it, bro.” I clear the lump from my throat and blink back the moisture that wants to collect in my eyes.

I did love Drummy.

Is it weird to miss an inanimate object with your whole heart?

“Then let’s go. I don’t wanna miss a single second of the show you sold your drum to get us into.”

We’re the first ones in the general admission line for the bar turned venue, armed with the fake ID’s Rex found for us a few months back, and I cannot contain the nerves vibrating me to my bones.

My thumb taps out the beat of the song playing over the shitty speakers as my twin talks up the ladies standing in line just behind us.

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