CHAPTER FIVE

Riley sniffs loudly, wiping her nose on the sleeve of her mom’s shirt before she remembers she doesn’t have sleeves anymore. She lets out a shaky breath but doesn’t move when her mother tries to shift her.

“Hey,” her mom murmurs softly, adjusting her grip. “You wanna lie down?”

Riley shakes her head immediately.

“No.”

Her voice is small but stubborn.

Instead she tightens her arms around her mom’s shoulders and stays where she is, legs still wrapped around her waist like she used to do when she was little. Her head sinks into the warm curve of her mother’s shoulder while the slow rhythm of her hand rubbing her back continues.

They stay like that for a long time.

Long enough that Riley’s breathing gradually evens out. The tightness in her chest loosens a little while the quiet of the house wraps around them. Somewhere downstairs a clock ticks softly and the faint hum of the refrigerator carries through the floor.

At some point Riley must have fallen asleep.

She doesn’t remember when.

All she remembers is blinking her eyes open again and realizing the lighting in the room has changed. The soft afternoon brightness coming through the windows has shifted toward evening.

And her dad is standing over her.

Riley blinks again, disoriented for a second while she tries to figure out where she is. She’s stretched out on the couch now with a pillow tucked under her head and a light throw blanket draped loosely over her legs. Her mom must have moved her while she was asleep.

Her dad stands beside the couch looking down at her.

His expression is warm, though there’s a tiredness around his eyes that wasn’t there that morning.

“Hi, sweetmeat,” he says with a soft grin.

He leans down slightly, resting one hand on the back of the couch.

“Told you I’d get to use it today.”

“You still suck,” Riley says sleepily, her voice thick from the nap. “How was work?”

Her dad waves the question away immediately.

“Doesn’t matter.”

He bends down and scoops her up from the couch before she can protest, lifting her the same way her mom had earlier. Riley lets out a quiet groan but doesn’t fight it, letting herself settle against him as he sits down.

“Your mom told me everything that happened,” he adds, adjusting her slightly so she’s comfortable in his arms. “Including your little breakdown in the bathroom.”

Riley grimaces.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, resting her head against his shoulder. “I know I should be more happy.”

Her dad shakes his head gently.

“No, you don’t need to be sorry for losing composure,” he tells her. “You’re a kid. Not even a teenager yet.”

He presses a kiss against her cheek and the rough scratch of his stubble drags lightly across her skin.

“You feel what you need to feel,” he continues quietly. “Get it out now if you have to.”

His arm tightens slightly around her.

“Better before next Monday.”

Riley shifts a little in his lap and exhales.

“I feel fine now,” she admits after a moment. “Just a little… spent.”

Her dad nods like that makes perfect sense.

“Yeah,” he says softly.

“That’ll happen.”

“I hoped you would never get picked,” her dad says quietly.

His hand moves slowly through her hair while he speaks, the motion steady but distracted.

“Really, really hoped.”

His voice cracks a little on the last word, the sound small enough that he probably hopes Riley didn’t notice it.

“But we play the cards we’re dealt,” he continues after a moment, clearing his throat. “That’s the deal we all live under.”

He takes a slow breath.

“You’re a Meatgirl now,” he says carefully, the words sounding like something he practiced saying on the drive home. “And I’m supposed to make sure you remember your new role in society.”

Riley barely lifts her head from his shoulder.

“I know, Dad,” she murmurs, her voice still thick with sleep. “I won’t be a coward.”

He doesn’t answer right away.

The promise hangs quietly in the air between them.

Eventually Riley’s mom calls from the kitchen.

“Dinner!”

Her dad stands slowly, still holding her for another second before helping her slide down onto her feet. Riley stretches her arms a little and follows him into the kitchen.

The table is already set.

A plate of leftover pancakes sits in the center along with a bottle of syrup and three forks. It’s the same Monday dinner they’ve had for years, the one that usually follows the morning pancake tradition when there are too many left over to throw away.

Tonight it feels different.

They sit down together and begin eating.

The pancakes are a little colder now but still soft enough, and the syrup tastes the same as it always does. Riley eats slowly while her parents watch her without quite meaning to.

Every now and then one of them tries to make eye contact.

Just as quickly they look away again.

It’s awkward.

Not because she isn’t wearing anything.

They had all seen that during Transition Week.

No, the tension comes from something else entirely.

Their little girl is sitting across from them at the table.

And suddenly she’s something precious they’re about to lose.

The silence at the table finally breaks when a ringtone echoes faintly from upstairs.

Riley’s head snaps up.

“My phone.”

She pushes her chair back so quickly it scrapes across the floor and bolts toward the stairs before either of her parents can respond. Her bare feet slap loudly against the wooden steps as she runs up two at a time, taking the corner at the top fast enough that she nearly skids into the hallway wall.

Her bedroom door is still open.

She rushes inside and dives onto the bed, grabbing the phone just before the call cuts off.

“Hello?”

There’s a brief crackle of audio before a familiar voice answers.

“Hey Riley.”

The sound instantly lifts something in her chest.

“It’s Amanda.”

“Oh hey, babe!” Riley blurts out before thinking.

There’s a short pause on the other end followed by a quiet laugh.

“Hey,” Amanda says, amusement clear in her voice. “So uh… you good?”

Riley rolls onto her back and stares up at the ceiling.

“Nah,” she replies casually. “This whole deal sucks.”

She shifts a little on the bed.

“I’m naked,” she adds matter-of-factly, “and I’m pretty sure Mr. Greern is plotting revenge after I snapped at him.”

“The creepy neighbor?” Amanda asks immediately. “He’s gross.”

“Way gross,” Riley agrees.

“So anyway,” Amanda continues, her voice picking up a little energy now that they’re talking normally again, “I asked my mom and she said it was cool if you come over for a couple nights.”

Riley shifts onto her side, tucking one arm under her head while she listens.

“You know,” Amanda adds, trying to keep it casual, “a last sleepover.”

Riley smiles faintly.

“That sounds great,” she says. “When?”

“Saturday and Sunday sound good?”

Riley pauses for a moment.

Her eyes drift to the glowing watch on her wrist.

Red.

Monday noon.

That was the deadline.

She had until then to report in as a Meatgirl.

Her brain does the math automatically.

Saturday night… Sunday morning… maybe most of the day Sunday too.

It would work.

It would actually work perfectly.

“Yeah,” Riley says after a second. “That works.”

She lets out a small breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

“Yeah, that sounds really good.”

“So I’ll see you on Saturday?” Amanda asks, her voice quieter now, like she wants to hear Riley say it again.

“Yeah,” Riley says without hesitation. “See you then.”

She shifts on the bed, the mattress creaking softly under her weight while she stares up at the ceiling again.

“Love you.”

There’s a short pause on the other end of the line before Amanda answers.

“Love you too.”

Another tiny pause.

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

The call ends with a soft click.

Riley lowers the phone and lets it rest against her chest for a moment while she listens to the quiet of her room again. Downstairs she can hear the faint sounds of her parents moving around the kitchen, plates clinking softly as they clear the table.

Saturday.

The word sits in her head for a second.

A sleepover.

A normal thing.

Riley rolls onto her side and pushes herself up off the bed, grabbing the phone as she heads back toward the stairs.

The rest of the evening passes downstairs with her parents.

Someone suggests a movie and then another one after that, and before long it turns into a small marathon of Riley’s favorites. The television glows softly in the dim living room while bowls of popcorn and plates of leftover pancakes migrate slowly across the coffee table.

Her mom had always gone hard on Mondays.

Even before today.

The tradition had started years ago when Riley was younger, something about softening the dread of the weekly draw. Movies, snacks, staying up a little later than usual. It had always been their quiet way of making the day feel less heavy.

Tonight it carries a different weight.

No one says that out loud.

Riley curls up on the couch beside her mom the same way she had earlier, eventually shifting until she’s stretched out with her head resting comfortably on her mother’s lap. The familiar position comes back easily, like muscle memory.

Her mom’s hand finds her stomach again.

Slow circles.

Soft, steady motions around her belly button that Riley remembers from when she was little and sick or scared of thunderstorms. The rhythm is soothing in a way that makes the rest of the world feel distant for a while.

Her dad sits nearby in the armchair, occasionally reaching over to steal popcorn or comment on a scene he’s already seen a dozen times.

They laugh sometimes.

Not a lot, but enough.

For a few hours the house feels almost normal.

Perfect, even.

At one point her mom even stroked a little lower again. Not to bring her to orgasm but more like a gentle reminder that she was an Animal now. Not their daughter. Her dad didn’t make kind of advance even though he legally could.

More like a pet.

Eventually the exhaustion catches up with her.

The day presses down on Riley all at once, the emotional weight finally catching up with the small bursts of comfort she’s been riding since the café. Her eyes begin to close between scenes and her responses to her parents grow slower.

“You’re fading,” her dad observes quietly.

Riley blinks a few times and nods.

“Yeah.”

She pushes herself up reluctantly and stretches her arms above her head.

“Alright,” her mom says softly. “Bedtime.”

Riley leans down and kisses them both goodnight, first her dad and then her mom. They hold onto her for a moment longer than usual before letting her go.

She climbs the stairs slowly this time.

Her room is quiet when she steps inside.

The blankets are still missing from the bed, which makes the mattress look strangely bare. Riley crawls onto the bed anyway, curling up on her side as the cool fabric settles against her skin.

Within minutes her breathing slows.

Today had been exhausting.

Riley closes her eyes and drifts into sleep while the quiet house settles around her.