The New Guy (Bughead)

Part One: I Took a Bus

Sweet, sweet, little Riverdale. A town divided by north and south, the good and the bad. Turns out, though, that recently, those dividing lines began to blur. Even as the new guy, I see it. Everybody can. 

It all started with the no-longer-mysterious murder of Jason Blossom, or so I've heard. But I'm relatively new in town, or at least, nobody remembers me from the years ago, when I was just as much a member of the broken Riverdale community as anybody else. 

My name is Jughead Jones, son of F.P. Jones, though that's not something I'm advised to go shouting out from the rooftops - you may have heard of my dad in the Riverdale Register, y'know, the one who was heavily involved in that little murder of the supposed heir to the Blossom Maple Syrup fortune. I'm coming back to Riverdale now, in the middle of the school year. Not the greatest circumstances to leave my mom and Jellybean back in the muddy hole that is Pontiac, but it is what it is. I'm just hoping I can lay low and operate under my own terms. I'm just not one for people. 

"Welcome to Riverdale, Kid." 

I look up to the front, from my seat at the back of the empty bus. The driver, an older man with large lips and acne scarring across the right side of his face looks at me through the rearview mirror, an expectant smile on his face. "Thanks," I mutter, standing up and taking my pack from the seat beside me. With one strap on my shoulder and the bag dangling from my back in my right hand's grasp, I exit the bus quickly. Upon stepping onto the ground, I make a splash in a small puddle of slush. I look down at my feet, and see the small, mangled corpse of a bird. There are so many maggots writhing in its flesh, most of it eaten away, that I can't tell what kind of bird it was. Not that I'm especially versed in the science of avian identification anyways. 

With a grimace and a gulp, I step forward, over the bird,  as the doors shut behind me and the bus chugs away, leaving me in the pothole-ridden empty lot in front of the bus terminal. I don't expect my dad to pick me up - I didn't ask him to. I finish putting my pack on my back and sigh, my breath rising in the air like smoke. I want a burger. 

* * *

I haven't stepped foot in Pop's in years, but everything is exactly the same as it had been when I was a child. The way I remember it. The neon pink and orange light from the sign, seeping in through the blinds on the windows and illuminating the booths with a modernly vintage kind of feel and the temperature in here always being just right, no matter what you're wearing or how it is outside. With an inhalation through my nose the very few happy moments I've experienced in Riverdale all came rushing into the forefront of my mind through my sinuses. I crack a small smile and brush my thumb across my nose, looking behind the counter for Pop. 

He comes in through the kitchen, various grease stains on his apron but his friendly smile distracting from that. "Hey there, come on-" his deep, jolly voice stopped as his gaze fell on me, a look of confused recognition beginning to cross his face. "Jughead?"

I chuckle lightly at the look on his face, like a puzzled giraffe. 

"Jughead Jones?" a grin begins to spread across his doughy face. The grin gives way to gleeful laughter as he walks closer to the counter, leaning over it on his elbows and shaking his head incredulously; staring at me wide-eyed as I just stand there, with my hands in my pockets and my shoulders kind of shrugged a little bit, waiting for him to speak again. "Jughead Jones!" he says again, this time, not wondering. "Still wearing that damn hat! Back in ol' Riverdale, my god. You're so..." he studies my face for a moment. "So..."

"Not seven?" I chuckle, and he slaps his hand down on the counter in agreement. 

"Took the words right out of my mouth," he walks around the counter, over to me, his arms open in an invitation for a hug. I press my lips together and hug him, and it only slightly feels great. With a hearty pat on my back he releases me after a moment and takes my shoulders, shaking me gently. "Come on, anywhere you'd like, anything you want, on the house!"