R I L E Y
& T H E
B O X E R S
P.S. No, this book is not about men's underwear.
W A R N I N G / s
I WAS 13 YEARS OLD WHEN I WROTE THIS!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!
This book contains extensive foul language. Please do not complain because you have just been warned. Oh, and not to mention the very cliche-ness throughout the entire story. If you don't like cliche stories, I advise not to read any further.
I actually don't know as much about boxing, so rules and such are all fictional. Please bear with me!
This is also my first time writing a book so please excuse my horrid writing! ALL CHAPTERS ARE COMPLETELY UNEDITED! EDITING WILL START ONCE THE BOOK IS COMPLETE.
Thank you! I hope you enjooy :)
P R O L O G U E
"Let's hear a speech from Mr and Mrs Coleman's daughter, Riley." Mrs Summers, The Coleman's neighbour announced as the bereaved mourners politely and silently awaited for Riley to appear on stage.
But she didn't.
A few minutes passed and yet, no sign of her. Mrs Summers approached the microphone, clearing her voice before repeating, "Riley? Riley Coleman..?"
"She's not anywhere to be seen." The security guard informed her. "We assume she ran off."
Mrs Summers took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment, before muttering. "Typical."
~ Riley Coleman's Point of View ~
Funerals? What a bunch load of jack.
When that word popped up in my mind, I'd cringe. All funerals ever did to me was made the matter worse. Funerals basically certified the fact someone was gone forever, and that's something you would never want to believe or face. My parents were my everything; my life. And without them? I'm nothing! If I had attended the funeral, the poor place would be a river by now. And what's worse? People would pity me, which is what I dread to be. It makes the whole situation so much more harder. Why the hell would I want that? I mean, who would even want that?
No one!
It was a horrible and painful feeling. Plus if I wanted to gust out my feelings, I had a pillow for that—
Oh oops, my bad, I didn't. Because I no longer had a home either.
Thank the mighty owner of my parent's rented house to take it back, since we never even paid this year's rent. His last words?
"Go live with your grandparents."
But my parents and grandparents were never in good terms. Yes, my parents were one of those couples who ran away for the sake of their boundless love...
... Let's not talk about them, actually. I can't afford to breakdown anymore.
As you could see, I had a lot on my plate. But everyone has an escape, right? Whether it's your own room, treehouse, maybe even a hobby or a place. My escape was not just a place, but a different world. I lived in a city and this little area was rather the opposite. It screamed mother nature in every way and it had been doing that since I first discovered it, which was at the age of six.
I sat at the slope of a small hill, glancing at the shimmering lake ahead. On the left was a large rock-hill with water cascading down. Trees surround the area everywhere as birds chirped every now and then. Sometimes I wondered if there was a magic dimension on the other side of the waterfall, just like in Swan Lake. Nevertheless, I was too lethargic to try.
Maybe another day. Actually, why don't I just live here? For ten years I had been visiting this place and it never failed to enlighten me.
I got up anyway, heavens knows how long I had been sitting down and crying for. Surely, it was a large period of time considering my numb feet. I took in the view once more before spinning on my heels and jogging my way up the street to Margaret's house. Margaret Summers was a very close friend of my mother's and I felt like she was my second mom. Maybe she'd take me in? Who am I kidding? Of course she would!
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"No, you are not living with me." She sternly replied, handing back my two luggages.
"What?" I asked in bewilderment. "You're not serious, are you?"
"Riley, I have no choice." Her lips trembled for a moment, before she embraced me into a hug. "Honey I'm so sorry! If I was allowed to take you, of course I would, there's no doubt to that. But the council had already found a nearby relative of yours who is ecstatic to take you in! You are her niece after all."
"Woah, hold up," I pulled back, confusion flooding through my mind. "Niece? I have an Aunt?!"
"Yes." Margaret gave me an amused expression.
"Mom or dad's side?"
"Your father's."
"Awesome." I whispered, my lips only twitching because I couldn't even smile at the situation I was in.
"The taxi will pick you up in a few." She slumped onto the couch, before crossing her legs and turning to face me. Her already sad face deepened into a frown. "Tell me, Riley Jean Coleman, where, for pete's sake were you today instead of attending your very own parent's funeral?"
Hmm, gee I wonder.
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At last, the doorbell rang.
It was time.
A side of me wanted to go and spend time with my newly discovered Aunt but a side of me certainly didn't. Abby Hills was my hometown ever since I was five. I lived in three houses the passed eleven years and they were all on this street. So you could imagine just how emotionally attached I was; I mean, the feeling it gave me was a feeling I never wanted to wash away, but I had no choice. I had to accept the council's choices, because last time I protested, heck it didn't turn out pretty.
"I'll go get it." I muttered to Marge as I strode my way over to the door, opening it to face a stern-looking man whom I assumed was around his late thirties. He was dressed in a blue dress shirt and black suit pants, his humongous muscles and figure causing me to shrink under his gaze.
"Hello. I'm John Wires, Mrs Elva Coleman Peer's assistant. I'm here for Riley Coleman." He informed in a smooth, deep voice with an italian accent.
I laughed nervously, awkwardly waving. "That's me."
His eyebrows furrowed as he eyed me down. I suddenly felt uncomfortable around this guy. "R-Riley Coleman.... Is you?"
I glared at him in a baffled expression. "Um... Yeah."
"So, you're a girl?" He whispered, his accent still latched evidently onto his voice.
"Yes!" I whispered back. He frowned for a second before grabbing my arm and pulling me into the living room. Then he released his grasp, making me bounce onto the couch as I glared at him, so horrified that my voice box was cealed at that moment. Uh, what did he just do?
"Terrible, terrible, terrible." John muttered, walking around impatiently. "This is terrible!"
Marge came rushing into the living room, "What's going on?"
"Margaret! You never told me Riley is a girl!" He whispered in an extremely stressed voice. "Elva thought Riley is her nephew all this time!"
"Are you serious? Oh my god!" Marge exclaimed, her hands clasped onto her mouth.
"Hey! What's so wrong about me being a girl?" I defended myself, arms crossed over my chest.
"Oh nothing, except the fact Elva turned her home into a training apartment for boxers. She trains male boxers only and by living with her, you're accepting to become a male boxer yourself." John replied sarcastically, yet stress lacing in his every word.
Er, what?
"What?!" I shrieked.
He stood there like a statue for a couple of seconds before pacing up to me and bending down on his knees. "Riley Coleman, please I beg of you, disguise yourself as a boy!"
I backed away so roughly, the couch tipped over. "Riley! Are you alright honey?" Marge asked me, bending down to help pick me up.
"No!" I screeched, struggling to get on my feet from the absurdness of his request. "I am not doing that! Do you have any idea how much of a risk that is?"
"I know but we can pull it off! I just know we can. We have the props and I can hire a coach! Just until you graduat—" I hastily cut John's speaking off.
"John! I'm halfway through Junior year! That'll be one and a half years!"
"For the company's name, please?"
I groaned. "Why don't I just be myself? Be a girl?"
"Riley. The institute is for male boxers only. You cannot live there if you're a girl, Riley. Besides, there are seven teenage boys living there. We don't want any trouble!"
Seven teenage boys? Heck I wouldn't be able to handle that. I'm an only child and therefore have never lived with seven people, let alone seven boys.
There was a swarm of silence before John sighed and headed towards the door. "Alright, let's go now. We'll just have to contact her grandpar-"
Grandparents — the ones who disowned my parents? Oh hell no.
"Wait!" I called out. Loss of my beloved parents and now being moved to a house full of teenage boys? Why had my life come to this? Nevertheless, with a heavy heart and tears forming in my eyes, I answered. "I'll do it."
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