Riley's POV
4 p.m. rush hour at the shelter was seriously crazy. Yeah, I know what you're thinking, how busy could a freaking animal shelter get, but you'd be surprised.
Phones were ringing off the hook, Arietta was searching relentlessly through a binder of animal records indicating previous health issues, and Farkle was in the front developing a sweat talking to the Miami Dog Officer.
Recently, Farkle decided to step business up a bit for days like these by promoting me to secretary. And really, all that means is that I get to sit at the front desk with an earpiece and boss Arietta around in the back room.
"I need medical records on Cecillia the snake, stat," I'd call out, and Arietta would jump out of her chair and rush into the filing cabinet in a panic to find everything I needed. It was truly empowering.
With one hand holding the telephone to my ear talking to a concerned dog owner and the other motioning Arietta to bring me the documents, my cellphone rang. Quickly, I glanced down, just to see what it was.
From: Mom
Surprise waiting for you at home :-)
This can't be good.
As the day digressed and the clock seemed to tick faster, my shift had ended, my stomach was churning, and I'd finally made it back home to find an obnoxious RV from 1972 parked right in front of my complex. I figured it couldn't have been mine, until I unlocked my apartment door and saw sitting at my kitchen table Papa Matthews, decked out in camouflage, with his rifle in one hand and oxygen tank in the other. My mother smiled at me as I slowly hung my bag on the hook, afraid to look in my Papa's direction in fear of what this weekend would bring, and then Auggie tapped my shoulder.
"We're going camping!"
Camping. This couldn't be any more embarrassing.
The RV was rough on Florida's bumpy roads. It wasn't that now that I'd relocated back to the city I'd lost my "country" side, but it was that I never gave a damn in the first place about hunting deer with my brother and Papa and having to smell the animals in the trunk decomposing on the way back.
"What's the matter, sweetcheeks?" Papa announced, turning to me softly and squeezing one of my cheeks.
I couldn't even fake hide my resting bitch face right now. It was too real.
"Where are we even going to go camping in Florida in the first place? I mean, at least back in Maine there were some actual deer to hunt, but all there is here is alligators and-"
Auggie and Papa Matthews smiled ear to ear, deviously. And at that moment, I considered jumping out of the car and rolling for it.
The campground my Papa had brought us to was okay, except for the fact that it smelt like the Animal Kingdom on a hot summer day and there was piles of horse shit everywhere, but hey, that's granted. Avoiding the hot shit and also lugging the enormous suitcase my mother packed for me, I followed Auggie who led my Papa to our cabin. Outside the cabin was a fire pit and some long sticks next to it, I assume for roasting marshmallows, and a couple of plastic green chairs, which looked like they hadn't been washed in a couple of decades, at least.
Inside the cabin, which I must mention was not air-conditioned, a moose head hung above the sofa in the living area. A small kitchen was beside that living area, and two bedrooms were accompanied by it. It was pretty standard place, besides the whole alligator hunting thing they've got going on.
"What do you kids say about having a nice old styled campfire? S'mores on me, of course. I'll be back" said Papa, walking with a sad, but adorable hunch to the back door and lighting the campfire.
In the meantime, I threw myself on my bunk and groaned, checking my phone for the first time in hours. Luckily, there was service, but after reading my lockscreen, I was wishing there wasn't.
From: Lucas
Riley, we need to talk. Now.
I raised an eyebrow, and sat up as my heart rate skyrocketed.
What could I have done? I didn't do anything.
Thoughts raced through my mind, trying to piece together the last few days of my life and where Lucas could have seen me, but everything was blank. I'd gone to school, got home, did my homework for a couple of hours, and headed straight to the animal shelter. I was innocent.
To: Lucas
What's up?
It's always really hard to stay "chill" in these situations, as Maya would call it, but with a guy like Lucas, it was mandatory. Tapping my fingers relentlessly against the oak headboard, I groaned, and fell on my back again.
From: Lucas
Where are you?
To: Lucas
Surprise visit from my Grandpa. In Tampa for the weekend. What's wrong?
A few moments passed, and I realized how awful that sounded. My grandpa? Tampa? It totally sounded like I was cheating, or at least up to something.
From: Lucas
It's Maya. She's back with Josh. Have fun with your Grandpa, though.
I jolted up. My stomach suddenly felt sick. My head was spinning. Lucas Friar was mad at me. My first boyfriend, my first relationship, will all end because of my freaking grandfather. Scrambling to pick up my phone and reply, Auggie popped his head in my room.
"We're reaaady!"
"I'll be out in a few."
"You'll be out now," said Papa, coming in and casually taking my phone out of my hand.
"You can't do that."
"I most certainly can."
And he most certainly could. The entire weekend following, I was phone-less, which was absolutely painful at first but slowly resolved. Looking up at the big stars in the clear sky, I smiled.
"It's pretty up here," I said softly, as Auggie had been sleeping in his chair and it was just me and my Papa.
"Ain't it so," he answered, smiling over at me, "Who's that boy you been texting?"
I chuckled.
"Pardon?"
"Lucas? A boy, I'd hope."
My face turned three shades of red. Luckily though, it was dark.
"Just a guy I like talking to."
"Just a guy?"
"He's- he's my boyfriend. For right now, at least."
And my Papa sat up, and looked me dead in the eye.
"My little Riley's got a boyfriend?" he exclaimed, obnoxiously holding his hand to his heart.
I giggled.
"It's not that big of a deal-"
"-Not that big of a deal? Riley, a first boyfriend is a huge deal!"
I blushed, again.
"We've only been dating a couple of months."
"Still. I want you to know how special you are, and no matter what, if he treats you wrong, you end it. You got me?"
"I've got you."
"Good."
And after that, he fell asleep, and it was just me and the stars.
9:24 a.m.
Somehow, someway, the three of us ended up inside, and I reckon Papa Matthews was the mastermind behind that. I wasn't even going to ask how he pulled that off.
The cabin was muggy, my blankets were sprawled out on my mattress, and I yawned. Getting up quietly and trying to avoid the creaks in the floor, I tip-toed to the bathroom when I realized my toothbrush hadn't been unpacked. So, me being my nosy and impatient self, decided to go into Papa's bunk and search through his bag for one.
There were old newspapers, bottles of aged bourbon, a fishing net, and a cap, but no toothbrush.
"Papa?" I whispered. No answer.
"Papa? You up?" I repeated, but still no answer. He slept like a rock, but my teeth were going to fall out of my mouth if I didn't find some toothpaste and a toothbrush fast.
I sat by his bedside, watching as he slept with a faint smile. I shook his arm just a bit; to wake him up, but to wake him up in a way where he'd be able to fall back asleep.
Still sleeping.
I shook him harder. Didn't budge.
Papa, papa wake up.
His whole body convulsed as I shook him, relentlessly and stubbornly despite not getting a response. My heart started to pound through my chest. My breathing was tight and my breaths short as I quickly searched for a heart beat, a sign of breathing, a sign of life, anything. And when I checked to see if he was breathing, a tear streamed down my cheek, a weak, immature symbol of a young girl who has no clue how to handle any of this. The symbol of a young girl who's stuck in Tampa, surrounded by alligator hunters and her dead grandfather.
I picked up the landline in the kitchen, dialing 911 as fast as I could. And when they asked me what was wrong, I burst. Now it was me shaking, shaking uncontrollably and crying, crying to the woman on the phone. She thought I was in an urgent situation. And at first I thought I was too. But when I realized he was far too dead and gone and there was no saving him, I just stayed on the line, crying to a woman I'd never met, for she was all I had. She was all I had except for a measly little seven year old, who was still asleep and didn't care to check on the crazy girl in his kitchen who was having a breakdown.
They came to get the body later. The paramedics, and all them. And one of the police officers said a couple of things to me, but after that, it was just me and Auggie in that cabin, all by ourselves to smell the stench of death and the grief that followed, until our parents came to pick us up.