Wiping the sweat from his face, Phillip sauntered into the kitchen, slightly out of breath from his early morning cycle as he headed straight towards the fridge to grab himself some OJ.
"Back already?" his father smiled, peering up at him from behind his paper and glancing at the clock, "Looks like you're getting faster, Phil-my-boy."
"Yeah, managed to get it down to under an hour," Phillip replied rather proudly, before taking a swig of juice straight from the carton.
At just 16 years of age, Phillip had already found his number one passion in life; cycling, having become really hooked ever since his dad had bought him his first bike, and was adamant about breaking into the professional field when he got older, already having a pretty strict exercising regime that he had put together himself (due to there being a lack of any kind of cycling clubs or programs at school he could join, having to go it alone for now ). Already he was in pretty good shape for his age, not being particularly big or muscular or anything, but having a lean, slender, athletic appearance, one that put most of his friends to shame, and had managed to get him a few approving glances from the ladies, much to their continued jealousy. Thankfully, his parents were pretty supportive of his "hobby" (as they called it), not getting too worked up about the ridiculously early hours he would sometimes arise at to train, and his dad even going so far as to drive him to the occasional race out of town to compete, a few of which he had actually managed to win.
As keen a cyclist as he was though, and as focused on his goal of actually becoming a professional athlete once he'd left school, all in all Phillip was a pretty easy going kid and liked by many, possessing a good circle of friends and a pleasant demeanor. He was also an only child (well for the moment anyway: his mother currently being a good 8 months pregnant), and had a pretty decent home life, living in a quiet, leafy, suburban area, his father, Bill, being a builder and his mother, Karen, an accountant, and never really wanted much for anything; his only real goals in life being to improve his performance on his bike as much as humanly possible, and to hopefully find himself a girlfriend somewhere along the way.
Currently however, quenching his thirst would do for now as he gulped down as much orange juice as his throat would allow him.
"I wouldn't let your mum see you doing that if I were you," his dad warned him, indicating to the carton of juice in his hand, Phillip's mother having a pet hate for that particularly method of drinking (something that Phillip always managed to forget).
"See him doing what?" a female voice suddenly asked, almost causing Phillip to jump as his mother appeared behind him, cradling her large, pregnant belly that was pushing prominently out from beneath her light blue tank top.
"Nuh-nothing!" Phillip innocently stuttered, hiding the carton from view, while his dad gently chuckled to himself in his chair.
"That'll be the day," his mum smiled, giving his dirty blond locks a playful little rub with her hand, before continuing over to the breakfast table and sitting down, supporting her belly as she did. Even heavily pregnant, with what looked like a basketball smuggled under her shirt, his mother, Karen, still appeared quite youthful and energetic for a woman of 40, possessing a natural cheery disposition, as well as an infectious glow that caused people to smile and perk up whenever she entered a room. Most people assumed it was due to the pregnancy, but in fact she had always been like that, and the little life now growing inside her only emphasized what was already there. Unusually though, today she didn't seem quite so perky and as she sat down Phillip could see a very serious, almost slightly worried expression come over her face, asking him to sit down, informing him that she had something very serious to discuss.
"Uh, sure, mum, what is it?" Phillip inquired, becoming a little worried himself.
"Well," she began, with a gentle little sigh, reaching out across the table as he sat down, taking his hand in hers, "it's about the baby..."
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