22
Ryan
Icome downstairs after a quick shower. After training finished, I came straight to my parents’: Dad needed a hand in the garden. Luckily, I didn’t get changed, and I have a clean set of clothes with me.
Mum insisted that I stay for dinner, and after storming out last time, I couldn’t really say no.
Dad’s laying the table in the dining room. Five places.
“Who’s coming for dinner?” I ask Mum, going through into the kitchen and grabbing a beer from the fridge.
“I invited Chris.”
I spit my beer out across the kitchen tiles, a coughing fit building up in my chest.
“And she’s bringing someone along.”
Thank God I didn’t try to take another sip.
“Someone?”
“Yes, she said she had someone waiting for her at home, so I said she could bring them along.”
“But you don’t even know her! You don’t know what she’ll do, if she’s a raging maniac, who she’s bringing with her. They could be Jack the Ripper, or…”
“Still can’t get the chainsaw working?” my dad asks, coming into the kitchen.
I snort and escape into the living room, just as there’s a knock at the door.
“Do you mind, Ryan? That’ll be them.”
Shit.
Come on, what’s the worst that could happen? It’s just a nice dinner with her and her handsome doctor.
God, where’s Nick when you need him.
I open the door, ready to throw up all over the carpet.
“Oh…hi. You’re here, too,” she says, surprised.
“Well, you know, it’s my parents’ house.”
“You said you didn’t live here.”
“I have dinner here every so often.”
Seriously? Why am I explaining myself to her?
“Come in,” I say, stepping aside to let her in.
“Thanks,” she growls through her teeth. “Come on, Evan. I’m sure you can put up with this for one evening.”
I knew he was a dick.
Christine comes in, followed by a guy. No. Not a guy. A boy, a teenager. Her spitting image.
“Evan, this is Ryan. Please be nice, don’t embarrass me.”
