Page 1 of Never Too Late

Prologue

Dax

Sixteen years old.

Growing up, there were times when I would wish there was more than me, my brother, and Mum.

I know I may sound ungrateful, but I don’t mean to be.

Life has always been easy, sure, and I never took either of them for granted.

But even though the three of us is all I’ve ever known, I felt as though a piece of me was missing, which I never truly understood.

I have finally left high school and couldn’t be happier about it. College and university are something I’ve dreamed of and can now finally, hopefully, make both wishes into a reality.

For as long as I can remember, I have always struggled to be around others. I’ve often felt misunderstood, and I’ve felt others did whatever they could to avoid me.

I was ten years old when I really started to enjoy music, quickly noticing how much it became an outlet for me and my emotions. Over time, I realised how much I connected with artists and their lyrics. And the more I listened, the more I was thankful they had the power to explain things I didn’t know how to explain myself. I felt as though I wasn’t alone, that someone understood the way I saw the world and the way things made me feel. Mum noticed how much joy music brought me, also observing how often I stole my brother’s Walkman, and for my birthday that year, she bought me my own. It wasn’t anything flashy, it was secondhand, but that didn’t matter to me. I cherished it more than I had ever cherished anything before. I can remember the moment I unwrapped it and the way Mum’s eyes filled with tears of love and joy when she saw how excited I was, as though it was yesterday. It became a part of me, attached. I never left the house without it, or my room, in fact.

“I have never seen you more alive,” she praised.

And I agree with that too.

When I was around fourteen years old, doctors told her I had depression. I think that was the day I saw her heart break, and I don’t think I have truly been able to forgive myself for it since. Even though I feared doctors, scared of what they would say, the moment she told me she felt it was for the best for me to go, I forced myself to. To get better.

For me, and for her.

Deep down, I think I had an idea of what the doctors would say all along. I’d noticed the looks I got from other students, and I’d heard what they whispered in the hallways. I was branded the ‘depressed loner boy’ by others, and they threw it at me any chance they got. No matter how hard I tried to hide that I was affected by this, it sunk deeper down than I intended.

After getting an official diagnosis, Mum, Tyler, and the teachers around me started to change. I guess I should be thankful for it, but it left me feeling more like an outsider than I had previously.

And that's what I hated the most.

Tyler, my brother, is four years older than me. We aren’t the closest. You could compare us to cats and dogs, but I wouldn’t think too much about it, he’s just a dick. He’s your typical ‘guy everyone wants to know, the guy everyone wants to be around.’ Whereas you could call me an outcast. We don’t have much in common and we don’t really talk. Unless we have to. Which is why we try to avoid each other as much as possible.

Mum, on the other hand, has been my best friend my entire life. She's hard-working, strong, and beautiful. I wouldn’t know life without her. I never knew my father growing up, nor have I ever had the desire to. She was twice the father he could have ever been, and I often found myself thankful he wasn’t interested in the first place.

“So, D, now you’ve left school – you going to get a job? You know, pull your weight?” Tyler drawls from behind me as he walks into the kitchen. Turning to face him, I slowly trail my eyes up and down his body, assessing the attire he’s chosen to wear. It looks as though he’s just walked out of an 80s music video. He must have just returned from the gym, as I didn’t hear him walk in.

I zone out completely after hearing those words come from his mouth, unsure of how to reply. It isn’t until I hear the clang of the bottle he’s drinking from hit the table that I come back around.

“Tyler, he left school last week. Leave him alone. We’re okay,” Mum instantly scolds, jumping straight in to defend me from the fucker himself.

“I know that, Mum. But there are three of us, I was just asking. You won’t have to work so much then. Get some time off, have time to relax. You deserve it.”

“I don’t need to relax, and I don’t need time off, Ty, I enjoy working, I enjoy being busy. You two are older now, and in a few years, you may be gone for good. Let me do what I can before you flee the nest and forget about me, okay?” she says as she puts a fresh bouquet of flowers into the vase in the middle of the table. My eyes instantly wander towards them, taking in their colours and floral smell, blocking out my brother beside me.

“Forget about you? I could never do that, Mum. If it was up to me, I’d never leave.” He beams.

The sound of her laughter fills the kitchen as she lightly taps his shoulder in protest. “You are something else, Tyler Whitmore. I hope you treat your ladies with more respect.”

“I’d never leave you either, Mum,” I whisper, quietly enough for only the two of us to hear my confession.

“I know, baby. And that’s exactly why you need to. Get out there, see the world. Meet new people. Explore. Fall in love. You know, everything in those cheesy love films your brother always watches and thinks we don’t notice?” She winks.

“I want to help, Mum. I can help. I’ll start looking.”

“Don’t overwork yourself too much. You’ve just got some freedom before you start college. If you really want to work, maybe get a weekend job, why not at a café or something?”

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