the duff. ❨ reghead! ❩

CHAPTER ONE

TUESDAYS were the worst. Yeah, I know Monday's were seen as hell on earth but nothing really went right for me on Tuesdays. I put my bike on the chain, and walked inside the hollow school full of secrets. As I opened the doors and walked inside, I saw my red-headed friend near his locker picking out books.

My friends and I were a different story. We were all a different story. Archie Andrews was the golden boy of Riverdale with his bright red hair and winning smile. He happened to be the boy who was a total player, but the difference between him and all the other trailer park twats of the football team was that Archie wasn't an asshole.

Archie did have his moments that were quite dipshit but I never really focused on that because he was my friend. Next to him was the blonde girl next door, Betty Cooper. She was like the girl version of Archie Andrews except more innocent in sexual activity and an obvious blonde. She was the total reason why I had started writing for the Blue and Gold newspaper.

Then after Betty would be Veronica Lodge. Veronica Lodge was still quite a mystery but we did know that she was the reckoning to Cheryl Blossom. The ice queen from New York was all about being the prima donna girl but less of a bitch. Everybody was very open to my friends. As Archie being on the football team, everybody loved him. Betty working with the newspaper and helping Ethel and some of the river vixens get justice gave Betty some feminist street cred. Then there was Veronica being the absolute mystery to Riverdale high but everybody wanted to know her and even the cherry colored Regina George of Riverdale, Cheryl Blossom, couldn't do anything to stop it.

I walked up to them, a smile tinted on my lips. Apparently Betty had to talk to me about an article that we should do for the blue and— ouch. I groaned, my eyes shut from the pain that I just endured. I could hear some faint chuckling in the background and slaps that seemed like a high five. I opened my eyes to what appeared to be Reggie Mantle smirking at me.

He leans his shoulder next to the locker that I'm assuming he pushed me in and rubs a hand on my shoulder. "Watch where you're going Juggie, that looked like it hurt." It did you dick. I groan once again, reaching a few laughs from Reggie's posse of asshole all-stars. I slowly turn my neck looking Reggie in the eye as his infamous smirk peers down on me.

"If it ever occurred to you, rejected Wesley Rush, it did hurt. And you obviously know that because if it didn't it wouldn't make you and your little chump change clan so happy to see me. But if you excuse me, I need to go learn and hopefully you'll do the same." I then smile at him, doing my best to push into him. This is why I hate Tuesdays.

I walk up to Archie and Betty. Archie raises an eyebrow at me while Betty giggles. "You okay, Jug?" Archie asks. "Yeah, m'fine. Reggie Mantle couldn't really do anything to me."

Betty laughs. "He's such a.." I raise my eyebrow at her when she trails off. "The archetype of an asshole jock? Yep." Archie smiles. Betty giggles shaking her head. "I was going to say jerk." Of course she was. Betty Cooper would never curse. That's what made her, her. I laugh, "Of course you were," I responded.

Betty's eyes twinkle like a star in the blue sky and you could tell she just remembered something. "Jug!" She exclaims grabbing my arm. I wave to Archie who chuckles putting up a peace sign waiting by the door of the music room.

As Betty and I walk the halls, which was really me being dragged by a persistent blonde, I caught eyes with the brown haired boy across the hall with Josie and the pussycats. He was coming off of a brief giggle until his blue eyes caught my green ones but that didn't last long because my head was coming in contact with the door of the newspaper room.

This is now why I also hate Tuesdays. Betty heard my groan of pain, her eyes becoming apologetic and the blonde girl was now saying a billion sorries profusely. I wave her off, grabbing at my temples doing my best to massage it. There's a wooden table right in the middle of the room so I let go of her hand, climbing onto the table. "So, Betty what recommendations do you have for me this week?" I ask her.

She grins clasping her hands together as if she's found the most creative plan of the whole century and then more. "I was thinking.." I nod, sarcasm booming out of my body language. "I'm assuming," she glares at me. "Like I was saying, I'm thinking that since homecoming is coming up.." Oh God. Not this question.

"That you could write up what homecoming means to you?" She finally finishes, raising an eyebrow while closing one eye to see what my reaction would be. My eyes widen and my hand coming in contact with my forehead in a face palm. Betty starts to already think up the many reasons in the world to say yes– "no, Betty. How on earth did you fathom that this was the good idea?"

"Just hear me out–" she tries to reason, but I put up my hand hushing her. "No. First of all, who the fuck would care to read about how I feel about homecoming? They obviously know that it's not going to have the most positive opinions because I couldn't really give a shit on high school functions that emphasize even bigger high school labels. You're better off writing it than me—" Before I can finish comes a knock on the door.

Betty frowns, going over to the door and opening it. There standing in the door was the ocean eyed boy from before in all of his denim and striped glory coating a worried expression on his face. He peaks in looking for something or if I presume, I guess someone, and when he locks eyes with me again there's a bit of satisfaction.

Betty moves out the way as the boy comes towards me. "Hey, are you alright? I saw you hit your head over on the door and that looked pretty painful." He questions. It seemed as if all the words conjugating inside of me had dispersed and fallen into la la land. I was never into people, if you wanted to know.

I say people instead of the two genders because I wasn't fond of human contact overall. I just wasn't super enthused on touching and being dramatically intimate, but he was pretty. Very pretty.

Two minutes had passed and I was still speechless as ever. The boy gives a small chuckle. "That door must've hit you hard, I'm guessing. I'm Emerson by the way. I'm in your English class. " Shit. He actually was. How did I not know this before? I'm supposed to be the observant one.

All I could do was nod. Emerson giggled turning to Betty. "Is he always like this?" Betty shrugs as if she doesn't really know and in my head I was just about ready to throw myself into the grill of Pop's.

At a certain point I'm guessing Emerson had probably gotten a bit creeped out by my paralyzed state and just decided to wave leaving at once. Once he had left, I took my beanie off running a hand through my hair. Betty bursts out into a fit of giggles.

"Gee, Jughead, it never occurred to me that you could get so starstruck over a boy." She teases. I roll my eyes, the consciousness of my sarcastic spirit coming in tact again. "Please, Betty. I wasn't starstruck." Betty looks down making it clear that she didn't believe me.

"That's not what it looked like to me there, Juggie." I roll my eyes. "Romance is repugnant and practically the diagnosis of teenage idiocy. Why? Because it's not romance. Especially when there's so much touching."

Betty climbs on the table looking at me. "I'm not gonna argue with you on this one. Back to what we were talking about– please, Juggie? You'd get all the writing freedom." I raise my eyebrow at her. "I would?" I recall. She nods.

"You could say anything. From how it's crappy and uncool to others who aren't jocks." She adds. "I could say that it's only created for people to waste money with suits and dresses to make them feel pretty so they could dance to this shitty pop music from a local struggling band or Josie and then entertain the idea of bringing a date so that they're not at the bottom of the social food chain because they didn't bring their cousin or in Cheryl's case– her twin brother?" I ask.

"That's very harsh, so– no," she declares. I sigh. Betty folds her hands together in a silent beg and plead. I push her arms down, sighing again. "I mean, it doesn't sound like complete and total freedom but fine. I'll do it. Only 'cause you need me." Betty squeals hugging me before getting up to jump up and down.

"Homecomings coming soon so– chop, chop. I have to go though, Ethel wants to talk to me about getting her a date." I sigh, waving her off. Betty thanks me again before leaving right after.

Ah, Homecoming. And the madness starts.