RIVERDALE
'Beneath it all runs the flood of blood, and it will drown all sinister liars in its way.'
In the solemn town of Riverdale, a greater evil has been brewing for years, and a clueless yet cold-blooded girl with a runaway father i...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
FOUR you're not gonna believe a word i say.
◦ ❁ ◦
"CALL ME A MURDERER; I DROWNED MY OLD SELF."
There is an old fable involving a wolf and a lamb. For the sake of both my own sanity and your patience, I will paraphrase it into a single sentence: the wolf attempts to seize his prey, a six-month-old lamb. Any excuse will serve a tyrant — wise words to live by if you don't contain an ounce of morality. (Or, if you're Adalia Blue Shay.)
Wolves are the center of everything wrong with this mindscape, and Adalia was this wolf.
She sat on the bleachers, one leg crossed over the other. A compact mirror resided in her palm, propped up so that she could monitor her makeup in the summer heat. Beneath a layer of foundation, there were the purple crescents under her eyes, and under the faint amount of blush that colored her cheeks were veins as blue as can be. —Jason's death was affecting her both directly and indirectly.
For a second, her hazel eyes moved from examining her tired face to the boys on the football team, who chose to put extra heart into their practice in the presence of the girl. Her eyes, however, were only trained on a pair of newfound River Vixens walking down a ramp — namely, her eyes were on Betty Cooper.
There was a familiar feeling stirring in her stomach and she frowned, abruptly shutting the mirror in her hand. A good fifty feet away from the pair was a ginger with a jersey in his hand. These hazel eyes became fixated on the solid, gold 9 in the middle of the blue jersey and they began to swell with unshed tears.
Her feet had a mind of their own, and this was backed up by the action of her stepping down the bleachers, speed-walking towards the boy. The wet, dewy grass sloshed under her feet but she didn't let that stop her from calling his name, a serpentine venom coating her lips.
"Archibald!"
Surprised, he ditched the rest of the football team to approach her. (This specific occasion was crucial to note, for it was immensely rare for the girl to speak to this boy.) It had been almost two years since the last time they had a proper conversation, and even that one ended in flames when he indirectly insulted her taste in movies.
"What are you doing with Jason's jersey?" she demanded, arms crossed. "You do know that you're not half the player he was, right? He practically devoted his life to this team and I know you don't give two shits about football."
He made a face and placed his hands on her shoulders, ignoring her comment about the quality of his playing. Seeing the underlying pain in her eyes, he assured, "I'm not trying to replace Jason. I'm not."
"Thing is, I don't believe you, Archibald," she began, refusing to use the shortened version of his name. "In fact, I—"
Out of nowhere, she heard his name being called and decided it would be better for her not to finish her sentence. Veronica and Betty joined the two, a certain bounce in the latter's step. It was completely wiped out at the sight of Adalia speaking to Archie and her confidence was lowered in her presence.
