Sticking to Tradition

Chapter Thirteen: Rylee

Note: All characters and settings are purely fictional. If there are any similarities to real people or places, it is merely coincidental. The plot was written by me and not copied from any other writer.

They say your ideal guy is deeply enrooted in the ideals you admire in the males in your life. Considering the relationship I currently have with Ryland, I would have to say I disagree. My relationship with Ryland didn't always start out rocky. During my childhood days, I enjoyed being his little sister. With a five year gap between us, no one was stupid enough to bully me with Ryland around. He was always tall for his age, a trait he got from our father. Boys wouldn't dare tease me, not if they wanted to avoid Ryland's short fuse. The power I felt being his little sister was amazing up until middle school. Then, it was nothing short of annoying.

Thinking back on it, it wasn't Ryland that changed but me. Ryland was still being the big brother I once admired. It's just now, I didn't want an overprotective brother scaring away the boys I liked. Not one boy was brave enough to go against Ryland. Well, not until the eighth grade. Theo and Hayden were mini Rylands when he went off to college. They protected me and chased away boys as much as my brother did. That is until Preston showed up. He was the kind of boy you couldn't take your eyes off. He was athletic, handsome, and a sweet talker. I guess that's what attracted me to him. Well, that and his confidence. While no Devenport born and raised boy would talk to me, Preston did. He was not from our town. His parents were pharmacists who were transferred around the country regularly. He knew nothing about Ryland and could care less about him when he first recognized me at cheer practice. Maybe it was my infatuation with his confidence, paired with my excitement of finally having a boyfriend, that I did what I did.

Preston and I dated for a few weeks before things went downhill. Throughout our entire relationship, Preston was sweet. He never uttered an ill word about anybody. He was always so kind. But, I should have questioned him when I saw Theo staring at me with those enraged eyes, a busted lip, and clenched fists. Except, I couldn't. Preston never did or said anything that made me questioned him, but I should have known that something was up. Theo was never one to fight. He wouldn't hurt someone unless he felt obligated to do it. But, I didn't give him the benefit of the doubt. No, I let him walk out of my life as if he didn't matter. If I could do it all over again, I would have stopped him. Knowing what I do now, I would have kept him next to me.

Yet, I was stupid, filled with untapped pride and unexplainable emotions. I did not know how to express how much his words bothered me. I was infuriated that he took Hayden with him. It left me heartbroken to know he was okay with leaving me by myself. The best option would have been to break up with Preston, but I didn't. At the time, I was too excited about having this chance of normalcy. I was also too hurt to even think about how staying with Preston would affect my friendship with Theo. As far as I could recall, Theo left me. He made the decision without caring about my feelings or me. I justified my decision because I couldn't process how much I was hurt or even realized how much my actions hurt him. Eventually, high school came around, and things changed. Preston transferred schools. Theo changed. His sweet demeanor shifted to a colder attitude I did not recognize. Theo grew to hate me, and Hayden stopped speaking to me. I was alone. It was moments like these, I wished Ryland was home. I wanted him to come to school and beat up Theo and Hayden for leaving me. Yet, it wouldn't have changed anything. I still would have endured an uneventful high school experience.

Sometimes, I wished my high school years were as romantic and lively as my parents. My mom struggled with her race throughout high school. She is biracial, being born to my black grandmother and white grandfather. She tells me all the time about how she struggled with finding her space at school: being too white for the black girls, and too dark for the white girls. I look a lot like my mom, except I got my darker complexion from my father. Except for our skin tone and distinct personality differences, my mother and I share similar physical features. We are even the same height. Unlike Ryland and me, our mother is not athletic. We inherited that gene from our father. Our mother focused on school more than anything else. My dad thinks she overcompensates her feelings by focusing on school to fill the void. Even now, she is a professional student pursuing her fifth degree. What does my father do? He works his tail off at his restaurant, ensuring he makes enough money to keep my mother happy in her virtual classes.