Riley's Box

Part 4

After I had made sure that the strange, shadowy thing that had been on the corner of our block was truly gone, I made my way inside and closed the door behind me. Why was I feeling a little unsettled? I, Riley Rose Ruby, did not have the time to feel perturbed by something that could have been nothing! Alright, so that might not have made a lot of sense. As much as I tried to shake the thought out of my head, I couldn't help but feel as though that nothing had definitely been much more of a something.

I swiftly pushed that thought out of my mind, however, when my father spoke to me. 

"Hey Riles," he said. 

I turned to him and greeted him with another warm smile. 

"Hey dad,"  I said. 

"How was school?" he asked me. 

I swiftly shrugged my shoulders, then, in response to his question. 

"Well, you know, it was school," I said. 

He raised an eyebrow at me, as his eyes became a little shinier with amusement, but he didn't comment further. 

"Bet you're excited for the holiday and for your birthday," he said. 

I was, in fact, very excited about my birthday. It fell on April third and it was, of course, the best day of the year. At least, I would do everything within my power to make sure that it was the best day of the year. After all, you only turned sixteen once! That meant that everything had to be as perfect as could be, so that it would be the sweetest sixteen known to man- like a really sugary, sweet treat. That was how sweet my birthday needed to be. 

While I was reaching the latter part of my mid-teen years, though, my height had stubbornly remained the same for the past two years. I had to wonder, if only for a moment, whether I would be destined to a life of standing at a measly five foot three. Oh well, I supposed, there were much worse things going on in the world than my inability to grow! 

"I am, dad, very much so," I told him, as I smoothed down my denim jacket over my slim frame. I worked out a lot. It gave me something to do when I wasn't studying or binge watching television. Plus, it did make me feel better. I had to admit that. 

"Let me guess," my dad spoke again. "You're probably going to want to go and get on with some studying, right?" he asked me. 

Did he have the correct person? 

"I don't know," I said, with a slightly weird expression, "Am I?" I asked. 

My father chuckled in response to my expression. 

Ha. Real funny joke. 

"I have to be honest, the look on your face, after I said that, was priceless!" he said and joined me in chuckling. 

"Steven," my mother said, from the living room. Her tone sounded as though it had a warning behind it. 

My father immediately tried to regain his composure after that. 

"What I mean to say is, Riley, that you really, really do need to knuckle down and work hard! Otherwise, you might end up confined to a life of watching terrible comedy re-runs and eating value pasta," he said. 

I felt my eyes widen in concern. 

"Not the value pasta!" I said dramatically. 

We both knew, of course, that value pasta wasn't even bad. I was simply being over-dramatic because I knew it wound my mother up and as much as I loved her, it could be an occasional source of entertainment. Did that make me a bad daughter? Perhaps, I shouldn't have admitted that, even if I had only thought it to myself. 

"You're going to do just fine in your exams, Riles," my father spoke, with a kind warmth in his gaze, then. "I just know it." 

My father continued to be down-to-earth. He would always tell you exactly how he felt and honestly, but he usually said it in some wholesome way. I was certain that he had never argued with anyone. However, if he had, I couldn't really imagine it. He had always been this calm and steady figure in my life, and I had perceived him as such, since I was a little girl. 

"I'll help you study, if you want to. I might not have much of a clue, as to what I'm talking about sometimes, but I would do anything for you. I'm here," he said, "I know you're getting older and I am, too, and you want to branch out into the world and do your own things, but don't forget about me. I guess that's what I wanted to say." 

I immediately went over to him to bring him into a hug, then. I had a feeling that he could use one. 

"Dad! Don't be silly. I could never forget about you," I told him, with an emphatic tone. 

I knew that I could always rely on my dad and that was why, aside from Jason, he was my best friend. 

He had always been quietly confident in me and in himself, too. That was how his business had become so successful. He sold old cars that he would fix up. It was pretty impressive, I must admit. 

His expression soon became friendly again, as he moved a little distance away from the hug. His hands were still gently holding onto my forearms, though. 

"I'm glad to hear it, Riles," he said. He then straightened up again and looked at the clock. "Ah!" he said, in the way that he always did, whenever he realised it was about time to cook dinner. "I'll see you in a few hours, kid," he told me, but didn't let a moment to ruffle through my hair slip by. 

He made his way into the kitchen, while I made my way into the living room. 

I had spoken to one parent, and now it was time to speak to my mother.