This is my first short story that i'm posting here, its quick and just a bit of fun to write. Let me know what you think!

“So where do you plan on going next year?” my mother asked me from across the breakfast table. I sighed, racking my brain for a quick answer, one that would satisfy her just enough to end the conversation. Then I could make a quick escape up the stairs, and out the door. Before I could answer, my older brother snorted and answered for me.
“Nowhere...” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He shot me a look that could have turned the milk in my breakfast bowl sour. I don’t know why he’s like that. He just is. My brother is the kind of guy that sticks his foot out in front of you to trip you, or give you a ridiculous nickname that catches on at school. He’s always out to put me down.
“Scott, will you stop that?” My mother pursed her lips together, the way she always does when she’s annoyed with Scott. ‘Honestly, all you do is moan and take swipes at your brother…can’t you get along?” She waited for a reply, was answered with a grunt from Scott, muffled by his mouthful of cornflakes. Giving an exasperated gasp, she looked at me from over the cereal and mugs of tea. She was persistent…I knew that she had been preparing to have the ‘what do you plan on doing with your life’ conversation very soon, but why she had chosen half past nine on a Saturday morning was anyone’s guess.
“So, you still haven’t answered me, Robert…where are you planning on going?” I could hear her foot tapping against the kitchen tiles impatiently, wanting her answer now. Ouch. She called me Robert. She hasn’t done that since…well, I couldn’t remember. Robert is her name for me when she is feeling wound up, or when she wants to talk to me about something important. Usually, I’m just called R.J.
“Erm…” This situation called for delay tactics. “Isn’t this a little bit of a hefty conversation for us to be having right now…you know, over breakfast?” I began to butter toast, as if to emphasise this point. Uh-Oh. I could see her nostrils flare as she began to build up to an explosion aimed straight at me. She had woken up in a bad mood, and Scott had worsened it, and now she was asking me where I was going next year. Why oh why, couldn’t she have asked me another time, another day, another place?
“Stop changing the subject Robert! Now, I want to know, and I want to know now, so just tell me! I don’t know why you’re trying to hide it from me! You’re going to that college down near the railway station aren’t you?”
    I didn’t answer.
“Oh God, Robert, why do you do this to me? That place is the scummiest college possible, you know all the drugs and…whatever else goes on down there!”
    She was furious. I had never seen her more upset. But I was about to.
“Mum…I’m not going to college.”
    She breathed a sigh of relief. I flinched, and bit my lip, waiting for it, for my imminent doom.
“Oh, Thank God! You mean you’re not going to that college, right?”
     Silence. I could feel the tension brewing. 
“Right?”
     Still no answer. Her eyes widened, she drew in a deep, deep breath…I thought she would burst with anger.
“I told you he was going nowhere!” smirked Scott, piping in, and breaking the silence.
Now was my chance. I had to tell her before she exploded.
“I am going somewhere!” I yelled.
The smirk fell right off Scott’s face, and the fury my mother was withholding seemed to subside a little. She deflated like a balloon.
“All right…where are you going then?” she asked, in a deadly calm voice.
This was it. I was going to tell her. I took a deep breath.
“I am going…” I took a pause to observe their faces to remember what they looked like before I told them, so I could compare it afterwards to how they looked once I’d broken my big news to them, “…to drama school.”
Yes. That’s right. To drama school. Dancing, singing, acting, they were all my passions, the reason that I live, the air I breathe… but they had never known. If I had told Scott that I danced, of all things…I couldn’t imagine his reaction. All I could imagine was the pain I would have felt as he pummelled me to a pulp.
    I had no idea what my mother would say. Honestly, if I hadn’t made it to college, she would have expected me to work at a petrol station, or a become a budding supermarket worker, just like Scott, sat there every morning in his white and red uniform, ready to go and stock shelves… they would have never expected this. I grinned. I felt elated, finally getting it off my chest, and telling everyone about the scholarship I had earned to a stage school.
“So…what do you think then?”
Their stunned silence said it all.