Chapter 2: In Which Riley Flies

It had been a full week since Riley had turned twelve, and already she felt older and more mature. She had spent most of that week studying, catching up on any extra homework and asking her teacher about the new curriculum changes. She had taken a shine in many of her classes. Although she couldn't do fractions and algebra, she did alright in Maths with counting and pi charts. She used a calculator in school and an abacus at home to work on simple mathematics. She was skillful in art class, her speciality being butterflies and lizards, cats too only they were harder to draw. She had tried to model Puff once but hadn't been very successful as he had kept moving or getting up for milk.

Drama class was a favourite of hers because she loved pretending. She said she wanted to act when she was younger before hockey came into her life. "You're never too old to pretend," is what she always told her parents. "Like right now, I'm pretending not to notice that you haven't eaten your broccoli?" her Mom would reply to which Riley would gulp trying her best not to wretch as she picked them up with her fork and dropped them into a pouch in her sweater, dropping them all under the table for Puff even though she knew he would only sniff them and turn his nose up.

Writing for English class was her favourite pastime at home. She could make journals effortlessly, and couldn't wait to write more in the notebooks her Mom had bought her at the start of the week.

Music was a bore. Riley was in the Choir and hates the sound of her own voice, whereas her teacher seemed to loves the sound of her own voice.

By far though, her best subject was History. She loved history. Next to PE (though to be fair if it wasn't anything about hockey she often wasn't interested) she excelled in quizzes, quotes, dates and tests and could analyse and answer almost every question correctly. She had no idea why considering she hadn't ever particularly liked history, maybe it was something to do with the fact she was good at remembering things, small prints of history texts. Riley was a fountain of knowledge, spouting facts of Tutankamun and his curse to Queen Victoria and her grandchildren.

She was now so good she could name all the US Presidents off by heart. Franklin, Washington, Lincoln, and Roosevelt were her favourites, easy to remember from Mt Rushmore. Truman, Nixon, Clinton and Bush were her least favourites all for different obvious reasons.

On this day, she was sitting doodling at her desk with her new friends, Mandy, Cindy, Hayley and Lori. She had met them not soon after she was properly settled in to the school. Mandy she met from art when she found out about her talents in bitterly drawing and asked her for help. Mandy in turn showed Riley how to draw sharks and whales, and small dogs, her art speciality. Cindy was the tall popular girl she had spotted talking with a clique on her first day, with the pink eyeshadow, double ear pierce and half of her hair dyed light blue. Despite her hard looking appearance, Riley got to know her and she was very nice, surprisingly sensitive. She revealed to Riley that she had shared a concern for her the first day she had seen her burst into tears in front of the class. Hayley was Cindy's friend, a jet haired girl with a love for gothic culture and skull designs. She had painted Riley's nails for her, something she wouldn't normally have agreed to, but since she wanted to at least fit in a little bit she learned to love her navy skull nails for a couple of days. Lori was a new girl from Ecuador who couldn't speak much English on arrival. Since Riley had been in her position before, the teacher suggested she show her around the school and help her out. Now Lori was less shy when it came to class discussions.

"Hey Riley!" said Mandy, making her snap from her doodle daydream "Did you hear we might getting a learning check next week?"

"Ugh! Not another one!" groaned Cindy leaning back in her chair, "I can't study any faster!"

"Yeah, like any more and I'm going to explode!" added Hayley putting in exaggerated hand gestures, her bracelets clanking together.

"I doubt that very much Hayley," said the teacher coming in and shuffling papers.

"But Miiiiiss! It's true! Why do we have to work all the time!?" sighed a tired Cindy. "I'm staying awake doing my new project, I'm getting cross feet and I'm thirteen, see?!"

"Now now Cindy, don't be like that " the teacher said taking off her glasses and polishing them. "For one, you need to do homework and study to go to High school. And then from there it's college, and from there it's a job. You can't tell me you don't want one of those!"

"I'll just work in my Mom's salon," yawned Cindy, placing her hat over her eyes and unwisely putting her boots on the desk.

"Feet off please. And are you chewing gum?"

"No."

"Put it in the trash."

Cindy groaned, but did as she was told. "Wow! Nothing gets past you Miss!" giggled Mandy.

"Years of practice," her teacher replied, "now listen up class. I have an important announcement to make! Riley you too, put that book away please. We are going to be having the School Fair next month, and everyone is invited to take part. Entry is optional of course, but if you have a project you would like to put on display and maybe even be sold or auctioned, then I encourage you to share it."

"Hey Riley, didn't you do that watercolour picture of a caterpillar becoming a butterfly?" piped up Mandy.

"Oh uh-I-"

"Yeah, it had the cocoon and wings and everything it was really good!" added Lori.

"Guys I couldn't!"

"Sure ya could!" said Cindy, sneakily popping another piece of triple dent strawberry into her mouth, "you can draw pretty good. It would make for your awful singing."

"Well, my singing is better than you trying to score a hoop in basketball!" Riley smirked.

"Oh shut up!" said Cindy, but her voice was playful, "Seriously though, you're pretty good, try drawing something you ARE good at."

"Yeah!" said Louis, a boy who sat behind Riley and whom she frequently shared a laugh with, "didn't you win last year's hockey season?"

"Um-yeah but-"

"Pfft! Big deal!" sighed Greg from the corner, "Dana was in the school concert this year, she played clarinet she should have a chance!"

Dana a plump girl on the other side looked up from her desk and scowled at him, "don't be so mean! Besides you're not entering!"

"School fairs are lame that's why!"

"Just because you're not good at anything!"

"Not true, I can fit my whole fist in my mouth!"

"Oh yeah, like that's a skill!"

The whole class went into sudden commotion, each debating whether the school fair was something of worth or completely pointless. The teacher eventually stood up at the board, crossing her arms, as a signal for "be quiet." Or "Shut the heck up," as Riley saw it.

"Now Now Class, everyone settle down please. Thank you. Now, as I was saying it's on the 28th of next month and it's a Saturday, so you are welcome to attend with your parents," she began walking around handing out the papers she had been shuffling neatly on the desk and each student put them into their bags.

"Now, on with the day!"

It was around two o clock before history finally made it's way to the timetable. Riley closed her maths textbook in delight and relief to exchange it for an American History volume 1. It was time for her to show off her smartypants skills on her-well, not favourite subject but definitely the most interesting.

That day they were learning about the assassination of Abraham Lincoln, something she usually would have been engaged in. However, something was nagging at the back of her mind, eating away any ability to focus on the facts she was hearing. As she tried to think about it, her mind kept wondering to home, and in particular her Mom and Dad. Mom had been so busy on her laptop recently searching for any possible takers for her care job. That wasn't the only thing that was bothering her. Her Mom had been throwing up in the mornings frequently and Riley was seriously starting to think about investigating the lattic with a torch and check for asbestos. Aside from her on going health problems, Riley had no idea as to why she was looking for a replacement to her own job- it didn't seem to make any sense. Wasn't she happy with it? Suddenly a horrible thought struck her. What if they were moving again? Would she have to start all over again? Make new friends? Pack up all her things in mouldy cardboard boxes and cram them into the back of a smelly van? No! No, that was impossible, completely illogical, Dad was happy with his new job, she knew he was making enough money to at least support the electricity in the house-but still...sometimes she wished they had moved into a giant gingerbread house instead, where things could have been a lot simpler...

"Ahem!"

Riley broke from her trance as instantly as she had drifted into it. "Uh, Sorry?"

"Riley sweetie, are you paying attention? Who was it I said shot Abraham Lincoln?"

Riley hadn't, but she didn't even need to stutter, " John Wilkes Booth?"

Her teacher looked taken aback. "Oh! Well then. Yes, fantastic Riley, Well Done!"

For some reason, a "well done" seemed to mean a lot more to Riley these days. She smiled to herself before the irritating drivel of Greg Fields whispered over at her, "Nerd!"

She managed to keep it together, even as he threw a paper airplane oclock in her direction.

"Well, it looks like we're done for the day," the teacher concluded at three o clock. "Class Dismissed!" All of her pupils collected their bags from under their desks and hurried to get to the door. "And thank goodness," she muttered to herself sitting down, looking up however she noticed Riley holding out a folder.

"Oh! Yes Riley?"

"Um, this is my Philadelphia essay-I should have handed it in sooner."

"Ahh, thank you Riley, I forgot something too! I forgot to ask if you had a good birthday!"

"Oh yeah, it was great! My first birthday in California!"

"Glad to hear it? Do anything special?"

"The beach. We built sandcastles and went swimming, my Mom sunbathed and my Dad got us all shaved ice! It's a lot warmer than in Minnesota!"

"I'll bet it is. Do you have a ride waiting for you?"

Riley shook her head, "Nope, I'm just going to walk!"

"By yourself? Isn't that a little dangerous?"

"Uh, a little maybe-I don't think so, look please don't worry about me! I'll be just fine!"

"Well okay. See you tomorrow Riley!"

Riley headed for the exit doors where most students were already going out, their backpacks slung over their shoulders. She caught up with Mandy and Lori who made their way out through the gate.

"Hey Riles! Me and the gang are all going over to my house to watch The Hunger Games, ya wanna come?"

As much as Riley did want an afternoon of thrilling movie action, she decided it was best that she didn't worry her parents.

"Nah, it's okay. Mom and Dad are expecting me home for dinner, and they'll kill me if I'm not home on time!"

"Oh well then, let us walk with you," said Lori. "I don't mind."

"Me neither!" said Hayley catching up, Cindy not far behind, "wait what are you guys talking about?"

"Ugh, it was such a drag in there!" commented Cindy stretching, "I'm going hope to listen to MeatLoaf, those who want to join shout out!"

"I do!" said Hayley, "come on you guys!"

"Sorry! We've already made plans!" cringed Mandy.

"Well, Riley then?"

"I can't guys, I have to get home, really!"

"Don't you wanna walk with us?" said Cindy, hand on one plaid-skirted hip. " No! I mean Yes, I do! I just need to go, like right now!"

"And your sure you're not coming with us?"

"I'll survive! I survived my cast injury remember?"

Cindy's look remained flat for a moment, before she shrugged, "Come on you guys! Little Miss Perfect has to run home!" To prove she was only kidding she sent Riley a sly wink over her shoulder, to which she smirked and shook her head in return. She walked slowly, hands in the pockets of her hoodie down the other end of the street, her friends going the opposite way. Her heart sunk a little as she watched them leave, wanting desperately to charge after them, screaming her Katniss monologue.

She made a right turn at the lights, until they had completely disappeared from view.

As Riley walked home, the thoughts inside her head went flying like an array of nervous butterflies, each with a new problem attached to it's wing: the confusion over her mother's job, the doubt about her father's and the sickening feeling of ever having to move again. Although she still kept in touch with Meg and Becks and everyone else back home, she felt that if she moved s second time, she would have two different groups of best friends to try and keep in touch with. She imagined trying to chat over video with Cindy, Mandy, Hayley and Lori and just-No! She couldn't even imagine it!

She had only been in San Francisco a year and it felt as though she had lived there all her life.

Stopping just around the corner of her block, she noticed the garage, it's titanium door locked, hinges pulled shut. Apart from all the other apartment resident's cars, it also housed her new bike. She smiled instantly remembering that her Dad tried to teach her to ride it that Monday she got home from school, even though it had been clear that he hadn't ridden a bike himself for ages.

"Now, you've got your peddles here, your help here.."

" I know those ones Dad! Just teach me how to ride already!

"Now, sweetheart-!"

"What's this one?"

"That's the break that's what you use to sto-"

"Stop yeah! Got it! Come on, get to the real stuff!"

"Right, well trying going forward and then-"

His words were cut off as Riley shot straight ahead, whizzing past lamposts and zooming in and out if parked cars. "I'm doing it! Look Dad, I'm really doing it!"

Her father stood back amazed, "Wow kiddo, you're a natural! Keep at it, careful of that guy's mirrors!"

Riley rode in circles in front of him before gathering speed. It didn't take him long enough to realise where she was headed. "Riley, the breaks the Breaks!"

"Woah!" Riley fell with a sudden crash into what sounded like a rustling plastic bag. He ran over to help her up. "Riley, ate you hurt?!"

She had landed in a small hedge outside s neighbour's apartment, and was giggling picking leaves out of her hair. "That was fun!" she declared.

"You'll get the hang of it kiddo!"

"What do you mean? I was amazing!" Riley laughed.

"Just wait till you have your training wheels off!" chuckled her father, "then you'll be riding like a pro! At least you wore your helmet, but uh-don't tell your Mom about the crashing part, it'll only worry her!"

"Okay Dad!"

"That's my girl!"

Riley smiled at the memory, wondering how long ago it was her Dad had even set his foot a peddle. Just wait until you have your training wheels off... then you'll be riding like a pro!

What if...?

The bike called to her behind the garage door, Come ride me Riley, it seemed to say. As she stood in front of it, knowing it was probably locked, she ached to touch the curved handlebars, to set her feet upon the smooth peddles. Ring the bell for driver's attention.

Slowly, she pushed the white metal just for a moment...

...it opened!

Riley couldn't believe it! The door wasn't locked! Someone must have forgot to lock it, Oh how she wished she could have thanked that person right there and then. She dashed inside, searching around in the dim light for a flash of pink. Finally, she saw it, draped under a blue blanket to keep it clean-thanks Dad.

She discarded her turquoise helmet and white gloves from the front handlebar, fumbled with the safety measures and set to work on bringing outside. She would ride it right up and down the street, with all the other neighbourhood kids commenting on how cool that girl from Minnesota is, although in order for them to think that, she was going to have to ramp it up a bit...

...ramp...

Suddenly, an idea popped into her head. Everyone on her street were always throwing out mattresses and old pieces of furniture. It wouldn't be hard to find some old wood.

Then she saw it. An old coffee table discarded at the foot of someone's house. That would make the perfect ramp!

She wasted no time in setting it up, leaning it against the family's bright red metro parked by the trashcans.

She pulled herself s few metres back before mounting. Narrowing her eyes and squinting to find where the road began again-finally she found her target.

Kicking off from the ground and print with all her might she threw herself at full force towards the ramp was positioned. Gathering speed, she reared up, does up the wood...

...and soared.

Oh what I feeling it was to fly like a bird on the wing through the cool San Francisco air, the wind blowing through her hair, her skin awakened from the sudden gale, momentarily closing her eyes as she rose higher and higher into the breeze. She saw the concrete below he and readied herself to land.

Only she wasn't landing. She tried to work the breaks, but realised they had been jammed between the wheels, she let out a gasp as the orange and white truck faced her, it's lights blinking, the skin of the horn knelling the end of her flight. She tried to scream, but could only open her mouth in terror as she fell forward and was brought into a huge collision.

Crystals fell into fractals of glass, the screech of tyres burned through her, her mouth tasted of oil and as she blinked, she felt the trickle of moist scarlet liquid from her forehead. She fell through a deep hole, a hole for the end of the world. She saw through half lidded eyes her mother as she ran from the house shrieking her name and crying, her father rushing out to try and stop it all. The hole for the end of the world let her take one last look, though she knew not what the world was any more. With a final breath, she fell into it, allowing it's deep black walls to engulf her, to steal her from the place she once called home.

"OH JESUS!"

"RILEY!" "RIIIILLLEYY!"