The next day was the first day of the end of her life. She knew as soon as
soon as she arrived home and sat down at the cheap kitchen table that the
night before had been a mistake. She didn't remember it, but she'd woken up
in Shane's hotel room with her clothes strewn all over the place and it
didn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out. Riley Clarke didn't need
guilt right now. What she needed was coffee, a stack of toast and a hot
shower. But none of these things where in her grasp and her purse was
empty, save for Shane's number of a scrap of paper. Riley lay her head down
on the plastic that smelled faintly of bleach and shut her eyes. She could
see it already, if she wasn't careful she'd end up like her mother Yvette,
or worse still, her sister Sydney. Yvette had struggled for years to bring
up Sydney and Riley, who had two different fathers. She'd dragged them from
state to state, in search for a better life. She never found it for them.
Sydney was much the same. She lived with four kids, who had three
different fathers, none of whom where around and Sydney was now living with
a wealthy older man who had no hope of having kids of his own. Riley loved
them both, but it didn't mean she wanted to end up like either of them.
"Jesus Riley, get a grip." she warned herself mentally. "It was one, one night stand. You'll never see him again and you won't end up like Yvette or Sydney. What you need to do is get a shower and crawl into bed."
It was too late, the paranioa was already deep rooted and the only cure for it was a long, conversation with Alice. Riley picked up the phone from it's cradle, there was no dial tone.
"Great." she hissed.
No water, no food and no phone. It couldn't get any worse.
It did. As it always does when you think you've hit rock bottom. It didn't happen for another six weeks. Riley's life had been bumping along at pretty much the same pace as always. Her hot water had been reconnected, then promptly disconnected when her cheque bounced. Her diet had consisted of noddles and the phone stayed unconnected. It was an overcast Tuesday, a day that Riley's finacial situation hit so low she had to walk forty five minutes to the law firm where she worked as a receptionist. She arrived late, cold and ignored by Sally Heslop, the other, perfectly groomed, skinny latte drinking receptionist whom Riley hated. Her morning passed in boring drag in which she answered a few phone calls, made a few coffee's, faxed a letter to Japan and wrote an e-mail to Alice who wanted to meet her for cocktails that night. Lunch came, her stomach growled but the ten dollars she'd set aside in her purse wouldn't be spent on a McDonalds super size meal like she longed. The offices where quiet, everyone had left and Riley was the only one there. She checked her watch. Why did five minutes always seem like an eternity? She tapped her foot impaciently on the tiled bathroom floor and noticed a hole in her sole of her shoe.
"Great." she muttered.
This was exactly what she didn't need. Maybe she needed a new job. One that didn't require any qualifications and paid more then minimum wage. She almost laughed out loud. She must be dreaming. She could always ask Sydney to lend her money, but that meant having to pay it back. Three minutes now. It would of been better if she'd been born into a rich family, an ambitous family, a smart family or a sucessful family. Why couldn't she be Riley Hilton, Riley Clinton, Riley Gates or Riley McMahon? When her and Alice had saw Shane on the cover of the Raw Magazine, Alice had squeled loudly then shouted:
"You've slept with a wrestler!"
Before dragging Riley to her house to look him up on the internet. They'd spent hours trawling internet sites, getting a crash course in the functions of the WWE and Shane's character. Alice had spent the next five days pestering Riley to call him. She refused. She didn't want to. Thirty seconds now. Riley shut her eyes and prayed silently. She promised never to swear or drink or do anything remotly bad again. Just if....the timer on her watch beeped, she opened her eyes and looked. Her heart sank. Two blue lines. Riley Clarke was pregnant.
"Jesus Riley, get a grip." she warned herself mentally. "It was one, one night stand. You'll never see him again and you won't end up like Yvette or Sydney. What you need to do is get a shower and crawl into bed."
It was too late, the paranioa was already deep rooted and the only cure for it was a long, conversation with Alice. Riley picked up the phone from it's cradle, there was no dial tone.
"Great." she hissed.
No water, no food and no phone. It couldn't get any worse.
It did. As it always does when you think you've hit rock bottom. It didn't happen for another six weeks. Riley's life had been bumping along at pretty much the same pace as always. Her hot water had been reconnected, then promptly disconnected when her cheque bounced. Her diet had consisted of noddles and the phone stayed unconnected. It was an overcast Tuesday, a day that Riley's finacial situation hit so low she had to walk forty five minutes to the law firm where she worked as a receptionist. She arrived late, cold and ignored by Sally Heslop, the other, perfectly groomed, skinny latte drinking receptionist whom Riley hated. Her morning passed in boring drag in which she answered a few phone calls, made a few coffee's, faxed a letter to Japan and wrote an e-mail to Alice who wanted to meet her for cocktails that night. Lunch came, her stomach growled but the ten dollars she'd set aside in her purse wouldn't be spent on a McDonalds super size meal like she longed. The offices where quiet, everyone had left and Riley was the only one there. She checked her watch. Why did five minutes always seem like an eternity? She tapped her foot impaciently on the tiled bathroom floor and noticed a hole in her sole of her shoe.
"Great." she muttered.
This was exactly what she didn't need. Maybe she needed a new job. One that didn't require any qualifications and paid more then minimum wage. She almost laughed out loud. She must be dreaming. She could always ask Sydney to lend her money, but that meant having to pay it back. Three minutes now. It would of been better if she'd been born into a rich family, an ambitous family, a smart family or a sucessful family. Why couldn't she be Riley Hilton, Riley Clinton, Riley Gates or Riley McMahon? When her and Alice had saw Shane on the cover of the Raw Magazine, Alice had squeled loudly then shouted:
"You've slept with a wrestler!"
Before dragging Riley to her house to look him up on the internet. They'd spent hours trawling internet sites, getting a crash course in the functions of the WWE and Shane's character. Alice had spent the next five days pestering Riley to call him. She refused. She didn't want to. Thirty seconds now. Riley shut her eyes and prayed silently. She promised never to swear or drink or do anything remotly bad again. Just if....the timer on her watch beeped, she opened her eyes and looked. Her heart sank. Two blue lines. Riley Clarke was pregnant.