BRAWLER [under contract]

chapter four | DIFFERENT

That evening, Rylee sat at the dining room table, arched over his homework. For the past hour and a half, he had been scratching his head over a history paper due the next morning. With his pencil gripped painfully between his fingers, his foot tapping impatiently under the table, Rylee glanced up at the clock and exhaled loudly. He rubbed the soreness from his eyes and looked down at the piece of paper. A wave of discouragement crashed over at him as he read over the few lines of unorganised thoughts.

Tossing his pencil aside, Rylee stretched and glanced over at his mum, who stood in the kitchen, busily preparing supper whilst his father was asleep on the couch. Rylee reached under the table and scratched his dog, Riddick, on his velvety head. Riddick was a beautiful, charcoal grey Staffordshire Terrier that had been rescued by Rylee at the beginning of the school year. He was a good dog and never asked for more than a nice scratch behind his floppy ears.

"Did you meet the trainer?" Mrs. McCormick asked as she arranged three plates of meat and starch on three plates. "Hmmm? Rylee, how did it go?" she asked again, waking Rylee up from his dreary daydream of what he would be doing tomorrow.

"Erm, it went all right. He seems pretty cool. His name is Skip. Like, who would name their son Skip?"

"It could be a nickname?" his mum suggested. "Now, come and grab some food. What else did he say?"

Rylee shrugged and made his way into the kitchen. "I mean, nothing much except meeting tonight."

Mrs. McCormick's face lit up. She tossed her spoon and apron to the side in order to wrap her arms around her son's neck. "Congratulations, Rylee! I'm so happy for you—"

"Well, nothing's for certain yet."

You should do it, Rylee. It might be good for you." She neatened up the collar of his jumper and moved a strand of curly hair out of his eyes. "You don't belong here, Rylee. I've always known that."

Rylee managed a smile, but only to console his mother's urging wishes. He didn't really have a strong desire to change his familiar scene, but he was curious to see what Skip wanted to talk to him about. "I mean, I can give it a go. But if I hate it, can I come back?"

Mrs. McCormick cupped his face in her hands and stared deeply into the eyes that had stolen her heart the moment she saw them. "The door is always open, you know that. But it's time, Rylee. You're a young man now. Eighteen is neither too young nor too old to find out what you'd like to do with the rest of your life."

"I'm just scared, you know? Of what's out there."

"Well, you'll just have to see it for yourself. I would like it if you invited Skip over for supper sometime. I'm sure he's a great man, but I need to be sure he isn't bad news."

"Alright, I'll make sure he does." Rylee gave his mum a kiss on the cheek and stuffed a spoonful in his mouth before even returning to his seat.

"Get your father," Mrs. McCormick ordered as she placed a plate at the head of the table.