The Life Of Riley Matthews
Riley sets her backpack down, trying to be as quiet as possible. It was later than expected and everyone had already gone to sleep. Riley notices her brother, now twelve years old, on the couch, fast asleep, his eyes fluttering as he dreams. Riley smiles fondly and Ruffles his curls as she walks past him and into the kitchen, where there's a plate of food and a note on the table.
Welcome home sweetie, we'll see you in the morning. Enjoy your dinner.
Riley pours herself a glass of cold water and sits at the counter. Her food is still warm and it tastes better than what she had been eating for the past few weeks. When she finishes her food, she take the opportunity to look around the room and soak in the familiarity.
Her and her brother's finger paintings and good grades still hung on the fridge, along with take out menus and maps and other miscellaneous papers. They had gotten new curtains, Riley observed, which were nice. And they had hung a new painting by the front door. But it was still home.
She puts her plate in the sink and then hops in the shower, opting to use her mothers strawberry shampoo and body wash instead of her own, since it was still in her bag. She wraps a towel around herself, drying off, then pulls on at t-shirt and some shorts.
The hard part was coming back to her room. It was still the same as when she left. There was purple everywhere; the walls were purple, her sheets were purple, even the picture frames on her old desk were purple.
She picks up one of the, a framed picture of her and Farkle. They hadn't talked in a while, since Farkle moved to Massachusetts to go to MIT.
Besides everything being purple, there were other things that remained the same; her favorite stuffed animal was sitting in her bed. She still had Monet's Water Lilies hanging up on the wall. And her bulletin board and her calendar up above her desk still marked dates and events that has long passed. Her room was the same, but she wasn't.
Riley crawls into bed and snuggles deep, breathing in the scent of fabric softener she used to love. She also has Maya's blanket, and for some reason that makes her home feel even safer. And then she's off to sleep.
---
Riley wakes up to sunshine and the smell of waffles and sausage and eggs. She slips into a white tee shirt and black jeans, slipping a chevron black and white jacket over her arms, then heads downstairs, where a waffle and yogurt are waiting for her at her spot. Her spot.
"Good morning, it's a good day today," Riley says, feeling a lot better than she had last night.
"Somebody slept well, I supposed?" Topanga asks with a smile and Riley shrugs.
"Well enough."
"What are your plans for today?" Cory asks, shoveling a bite of eggs and toast into his mouth.
"Well, I wanted to go see a friend this morning, but other than that, I'm all yours today," Riley says, taking a but of her waffle. It's warm and the syrup is bursting in her mouth. Fresh homemade cooking was even better than she had remembered.
"I have to go into the office for a few hours, so I can drop you off." Topanga offers, and Riley nods, giving her mom a thumbs up through a mouthful of food.
"Looks like it's just us then, Auggie," Cory says when Topanga and Riley finally leave.
---
"A hotel?" Topanga asks, looking up at the building in front of her. "Your friend is staying in a hotel?"
Riley chews in the inside of her cheek, wondering if she should tell her mother. She knows she wouldn't care, wouldn't pry for any answers he knew Riley couldn't or wouldn't give, but she wanted to keep Maya, and subsequently her conversation with Maya, her little secret, for as long as she had to.
"It's a long story." Riley settles and enters the big double doors.
---
Riley takes a deep breath, rapping her knuckles against the door. She had done as Maya had told her too and they gave her Maya's room number and now here she was. The door opens, revealing a messy-haired blonde in nothing but a tee shirt. Her long, pale legs are a stark contrast against the gray tee shirt and... Riley realizes where she's looking and quickly looks back up, into Maya's eyes
"You're here rathe early," Maya rubs her eyes and let's out a yawn, opening the door wider to let Riley in. Riley laughs and shrugs.
"What can I say?" Riley sits in the edge of the hotel bed, Maya sitting beside her, legs criss-cross. "My family's motto is if the sun is up then I'm up."
Maya groans, falling back on to the bed. "You're one of those people. Well, at least we can order room service." Maya takes the phone off of the holder and dials the number, then starts ordering breakfast.
"I already ate," Riley informs when Maya asks what she wants. At Maya's stern look, she rolls her eyes. "Fine, just get me some fruit."
Maya nods, finishes up, then hangs up the phone.
Neither say a word. Riley watches the news headlines flick past on the muted TV, then looks at Maya, sucking her lips into her mouth. Maya raises an eyebrow and Riley lifts her shoulder in a shrug.
"Is there something you wanna say?" Maya asks, sitting up on one arm.
"Not particularly, no."
"Hmm," Maya answers in returns, but before either can continue, there's a knock.
Maya has ordered chocolate chip pancakes, covered in glistening syrup, and even though Riley already ate, she looks at them hungrily. Then she sees the fruit plate that she had gotten and her eyes widen. It's arranged like a rainbow, strawberries and blueberries and grapes and pineapple.
"Is this what it's like to be famous?" Riley asks, plucking up a fresh strawberry and biting into it.
"Rich," Maya corrects, cutting a piece of pancake and closing her eyes as she bites into it. "I try not to throw my money around. I grew up without it and I still can, but the Sheraton has the best chocolate chip pancakes, so I just... had to."
"My mom is a great cook, she makes amazing waffles." Riley says, popping a piece of pineapple into her mouth.
"Then I'll have breakfast at your place tomorrow," Maya states and Riley raises an eyebrow.
"You wanna see me again?"
"Only if you wanna see me again." Maya says, finishing her food and throwing the trash into the can. She uses her fork to stab a grape and bites into it, juice squirting Riley in the face. Maya presses her teeth together. "Whoops."
Riley glares at her playfully, then a lightbulb goes off. She grabs a grape herself and throws it at Maya. And suddenly a food fight ensued. Maya is throwing grapes and strawberries and Riley is throwing blueberries and there's pineapple all over the floor. And then they're on the floor, laughing.
Riley looks up at Maya and she feels her heart flutter. She's never had a friend like this, before, and she wonders what, exactly, Maya's intentions are. She's only there for a few days and then she'd be gone and would they still talk, or would Riley be just another fan. She tries not to worry about that as they clean up the fruit on the floor.
"So what are we doing today?"
"What, you don't have any plans, Miss Rockstar?" Riley pokes Maya in the side, and Maya giggles.
"Stop. And no. Well, I have a couple interviews, but those aren't for hours."
Riley laces her fingers together, leaning back against the wall. "Well, what do you want to do?"
"I wanna see what it's like in the life of Riley..." Maya trails off, looking expectant.
"Matthews."
"I wanna see what it's like in the life of Riley Matthews," Maya says firmly and nods her head once.
"There's not much to it," Riley laughs dryly.
"Indulge me."
---
Maya stares at the blank canvas in front of her. "Finger-painting?"
Riley's cheeks warm up ever so slightly. "I know, it's lame, but I've never been good at using brushes. Plus, nobody is ever really good at finger-painting."
Maya, noticing the other girl's self-consciousness, places her hand gently on Riley's leg. "It's cute," she assures her, and Riley nods with a smile.
They talk as they paint, telling each other about what they did when they were young.
"I was never really good at anything," Riley sighs, dragging her yellow finger across the page. "Cheerleading, art, dancing, even academics. But I was good at being a friend, and I count that for something."
"Friends are important." Maya agrees.
"I had this friend, Farkle. Well, we're still friends, but we don't talk as much." Riley mixes blue onto the page, and then blue.
Maya is still staring at her canvas. She can't decide what to draw. She listens to Riley ramble, hoping for inspiration, then looks around the room. It was a small room, not like an art studio, more like a hobby area, but it was interesting, nonetheless. She starts with a greyish color, carefully moving her hands over the canvas.
"I never had many friends growing up," Maya says, biting her lip and furrowing her eyebrows. "Not that I was close to, anyways. And then I grew up a little bit and met this guy, Zay, who could play drums like nobody's business, and Mason, who played guitar until he left, and we replaced him with Isadora."
Riley nods in all the right places and "hms" when she wants to acknowledge what Maya is saying, and she gets along with the band, but something about Riley makes her feel more comfortable. They keep talking until they finish painting, and then they trade stools.
In front of Riley she sees a subway on half the page, dark and gray and depressing. But on the other half, is them stepping off the subway, into the sunshiny blue sky. Riley smiles.
Maya's mouth parts slightly, her hands reaching out to trace the arc of the rainbow, which is constructed of pineapples and grapes and strawberries and blueberries. And Maya smiles.