I hope you guys like this. This is really the start of Riley's depression/ADHD arc. I owe you guys such a big thanks for everything you say. It really, truly inspires me to write more, and longer. I was checking my page count, and this story so far has five chapter and is already several pages longer than the longest story from my Seven Deadly Sins verse, and that's down to the commenters (not that the people who commented on the Seven Deadly Sins verse weren't amazing, but you all very clearly relate to these characters, and I love you for that).
Whipped Cream & Other Delights,
TheHarleyQueen
P.S. As a side note, I don't generally reply to guests who disagree with my choices in the storyline, just because I don't think it's worth it, but I really, truly want the guest who said that my work was becoming "like The Fosters" to know that I'd never heard of The Fosters and will now take it as a recommendation, because it sounds like it's directly up my alley and has a 97% rating on Rotten Tomatoes.
"I love working hard to achieve positive changes in the human condition."
Well, fuck.
Riley took stock of the situation she found herself in: It was Monday morning. She was dressed (+2 points for being able to get dressed today). She was sitting next to Maya (+4 points for socialising when you didn't have to) and she'd done her homework (+100 points. That's hard). She'd watched… a lot of Red Planet Diaries over the weekend in preparation for the finale today.
Her mom was mad at her (-1 000 000 points).
So instead of doing what she wanted, and watching the last four episodes, she silently picked up her school bag. She couldn't challenge her mom. There were lots of things Riley could do now. She could sew and dance and name the stars (not with Riley names, but with their real names). But one thing she would never be able to do, for as long as she lived, would be to stand up to Topanga Lawrence Matthews.
She fantasized about it, sometimes. When her mom got really intense, when she wouldn't believe Riley no matter how many times she swore something to be true, when she looked at the 77% Riley got in Biology and said that Riley should get a distinction, regardless of the 94% she had for Science, Riley imagined standing up to her mom, telling her no, telling her how angry and frustrated and heartbroken her mom could make her. But she never would, not even when other people told her that her mom was being unreasonable, not even when other people told her how they stood up to their parents - Riley Matthews would never defy Topanga Lawrence Matthews (attorney at law).
Then again, it wasn't limited to her mom. Riley rarely stood up to her dad, too. Her dad may have been less frightening than her mom (by a long shot) but he was her dad, and that was to be respected. Her dad didn't shout or fight the way her mom did, but his decision was always final. And Riley, for all she thought it was unfair, accepted that. Because they were her parents and that was how she'd been raised.
So, when her mom hustled her and Maya out the window, Riley didn't come back, not like she wanted to, not like Maya suggested. She just left, her mom calling out behind her about being in the bakery directly after school. And Riley would be there because she was the good daughter (and that role meant more to the people around her than she did).
On the way to school, Riley tried to stay silent. She just… didn't want to alk. Maya chattered on about the Red Planet Diaries, and Riley let her, smiling and nodding when it was required of her, planning the scenario she'd just left over and over in her head. What if she hadn't left, what if she'd told her mother no, ...what if?
They met Lucas on the subway, and she pressed a kiss to his lips and asked how his weekend was, and he smiled back and told her that he'd flown down to Texas (she should have known that). He told her about Major, the stallion he'd always ridden before he left, and how good it felt to be on his back again. And Riley (like she always did when Lucas came back from Texas) sat there and looked pretty and felt stupid. But when he asked her about her weekend, she started gushing about Red Planet Diaries, and all was well.
At school, Riley asked Emma how her weekend was and Maya rolled her eyes (neither Maya or Lucas were a part of SAGA, but Riley didn't blame them- they had art classes at the same time). And Riley waved at Thor, Nikki and Francesca and they waved back, and Lucas hissed under his breath that he still didn't like them and didn't know why she did. And maybe Riley was still in her head about the thing with her mom, but she'd done this before, going through the paces when all she wanted to do was curl up and die, and no one had noticed them. She'd make sure that nobody noticed now.
As she walked into class, she tried to take stock of what the 'life lesson' would be. There was no drama in her life (that other people could see)... she had no idea where the lesson would go.
On the chalkboard, it said THE COLD WAR.
"So as it turns out," her dad began, standing up from his desk, "There's actually a syllabus I have to teach at this here high school. And it's mainly about the Cold War."
"Now," he continues, facing the class with a sense of glee, "Who can tell me about the most important battle in the Cold War?" And Riley isn't an idiot, knows this is a trick question, knows Farkle will answer it correctly and still, Maya puts her hand up. This is how they are.
"Fourth of July, 1776," Maya responds proudly, and Riley knows she's doing it because Riley's dad thinks it's funny. True to form, her dad bursts into laughter and Riley remembers last Christmas when her mom was saying that her whole life has been dad passing her over for his best friend, and now all Riley can think is same. Except it's her being passed over for her own best friend, and that seems to make things infinitely worse.
And right on cue, her father asks Farkle for the correct answer, and Farkle tells them that there were no battles in the Cold War, that it was a war between ideologies, and her dad sweeps away with that, but all Riley can think about is her own war of ideologies, fighting for herself or listening to her mom, and how is it that even when he's not trying, her dad's lessons are about her life?
She drifts through the rest of the day, her thoughts too loud and the lights too bright. She can't focus on what her teachers are saying and she strays in and out of her friends' conversations. The meticulous notes she takes in Science seem like a Herculean task but she does them anyway, her mom's disappointed face when she saw the biology mark in the forefront of her mind. In Art, she can't even be bothered to look like she's putting in effort, especially not when she's sitting next to Maya, who draws and paints whatever she wants and makes it look so easy, so she puts her head down on her arms and puts in her headphones, telling herself that the still life they're supposed to do can be done… later. Whenever. Sometime that's not now.
When she leaves Art for the cafeteria, she walks side-by-side with Lucas, and they chat quietly but Riley isn't really saying anything, isn't hearing the conversation. The buzz of the school is too great, and she wants to cry because she's so tired and nothing makes sense anymore.
She can't stomach her food, too. She can't eat but then she thinks about the people who really can't eat, who don't have access to food, and she tries to swallow even the smallest amount of her cafeteria meal but the food turns to ash in her mouth and her throat closes up, and she can't do anything but run to the bathroom (she has to escape, has to get out, can't can't can't) and she knows, without looking, that Farkle will be the only one to follow her because Maya is… somewhere, again, and she shoved Lucas's arm off her when she stood up, so he'll be angry about that (God, she has issues, but Lucas the Good is always so angry).
But Riley ducks into a girl's bathroom stall and fumbles with the lock, and then it's just her, finally, and she can just sit there, against the dirty, tiled floor and the bathroom door, her head between her knees, sore and uncomfortable but too tired to shift even an inch.
She doesn't think that Farkle will follow her in, but eventually the warning bell rings and he does, he comes and sits by the door and she's sure that people are looking at him strangely, but she can't possibly get up and go to class now. For once in her life, she can't pretend everything's normal, because just the idea of standing up and going to class makes her want to burst into tears, but she's too tired to do even that, she sits there and she's way past getting a tardy, she'll be getting detention for this, but she can't seem to bring herself to care. And Farkle just sits and leans against the door and whispers to her softly, asks her to open the door and let him in, asks her if she wants to go home, tells her to breathe with him. It's all generic platitudes, he must have read somewhere what to do when your friend has gone completely insane, but she lets him talk, and eventually, his voice soothes into being stable enough that she feels she can stand up and then open the door. To his credit, Farkle doesn't immediately try to pull her into an embrace, sensing that she doesn't want to (can't) be touched.
Instead, Farkle just calls his driver and they go back to his house, and at that moment she's sure he's her entire support structure. They lie on his floor and look at the stars as they drift, so, so slowly and he doesn't make her talk, just lies there with her. At that moment, she wants to give Farkle a friendship ring of his own.
Riley never shows up to Topanga's at 2:30 sharp.
When Riley comes through the door at half past five, she's done her homework (+20 points- Farkle helped) and she walked home (+5 point for exercise!). But her mom's sitting at the dining table, and Riley realises a couple of things in very quick succession.
Firstly: she left school with no letter, no explanation, nothing.
Secondly: she switched her phone off after telling her parents she was with Farkle.
Thirdly: she was supposed to help out at the bakery this afternoon.
"So, you decided to not show up at the bakery?" her mother asks, and it's a cold fury that fills her voice. Riley gulps and steels herself for the fast-approaching scolding, but she says nothing.
"You decided that rewatching your show was more important than helping me?" And Riley can't explain that she wasn't watching the show, because she has no proof. She knows the plot. She knows the behind-the-scenes stories and the Red Planet Diaries fan theories.
"Don't you have anything to say in your defence?" All she can do is shake her head, but her mother goes on, "I'm going to ground you for three weeks. You sat in the bay window for three days. No computer, no phone, no finale. You sit here, and you think about how maybe you are a good person now, but it's because your parents raised you right! And we helped you make all of the right decisions- except for this one! So you sit, and you thin, and if you think correctly, at the end of three weeks, I'll get an apology."
And Riley can't even say that it's unfair, because she ditched school and she ditched her mom and she deserves this. So she hands over her phone silently (her mom already has her laptop, she's sure) and walks up to her room, closing the door softly behind her, and finally, she lets the tears fall (but silently, silently, no one must know).
When Riley walks into history the next day, they're all talking about the finale. She doesn't say anything, doesn't mention that she hasn't watched it, but rather nods along politely and doesn't contribute to discussion, but Farkle must know something's up, because he doesn't talk either (he's not grounded, his parents don't pay enough attention to care when they got a call from the school saying Farkle wasn't in class- they just said he'd gone home early, and that was that).
The board said 25 DECEMBER, 1991.
"Sometimes, a diplomatic solution is preferable to the terrible cost of war," and Riley recognises that, and she knows what this is about - not just Mikhail Gorbachev, but the fact that Riley was told to come home directly after school today, but she had a SAGA meeting (when she'd told her mom that, her mom had said it would go on without her, but Riley didn't know that, and so she had to go).
History was her last class of the day, and SAGA was directly after that. Since the first meeting, she started catering a little less, but she still always pinned the flag up and brought the main topic. The Committee had changed a bit since she'd first started it. Emma, Mila, Heather, and Ashley all still attended, but Smackle didn't come anymore, and Chai had since joined, as well as a gay senior called Noah- Nikki's twin brother.
That was how Riley ended up walking through her front door at 4:30, her mother's furious face directly in front of her.
"I would like to begin with peace talks." It was a weak start - Riley was definitely in the wrong this time - but at least it was a start.
"Is this an apology?" It wasn't, because Riley didn't need to be apologising for this. For yesterday, maybe. But not for this. It was a diplomatic solution.
Eventually, they talked for a while. Riley didn't tell her mom why she'd left school- she couldn't. She spouted something about Farkle needing her help, and it was good enough for her parents. She agreed that leaving school early and not coming to the bakery was wrong, but refused to apologise for directly disobeying an instruction today, even when her mom asked her to. So they compromised. Being grounded for two weeks (starting today) excluding the SAGA Committee.
"I love you too."
And she took it in her stride, she thought. And she took the time to read a book Farkle had leant her: Cosmos, by Carl Sagan. She was never going to stand up to her mom. If she had any say in it, she was never going to tell anyone the way she'd felt yesterday. That wasn't Riley of her, it didn't make sense, she didn't have a reason to feel like that.
Riley's monster was a lot scarier than her mother.
