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15 minutes of being held him his arms. 15 minutes of crying into his shoulder as he whispered thing into my ear that soon calmed my breathing. If Jughead wasn't like this, then I wouldn't fall for him so quickly and so hard. If he was like any other guy, then it would make things so much easier. Because I loved Jughead. He wasn't like anyone else. He didn't care what people thought of him.

"I'm here. You're ok. I'm never gonna let you go." The whispers were repeated as his hand stroked my red hair. I probably looked a mess. Slowly, I pulled my head off his shoulder, apologizing for the tear stains on his shirt. He took me to find Cheryl, promising he would see me at the pep rally after he was sure that I was OK. Maybe liking Jughead wasn't that bad.

I saw Jughead leaning against the bleachers talking to Archie. When Archie ran back to his team I caught Jughead's eyes. He smiled at me, with that know-all smirk, while I smiled and blushed back. On this cool night, in front of the whole town, we were going to pay tribute to my brother while trying to act as if nothing happened. Many students held pictures of Jason in respect. The people holding them didn't know Jason. They had never spoken to him or thought he was just a common jock that you couldn't speak to. The few that knew him, knew that wasn't the case.

The fine rain had started. It was the worst kind of rain. You couldn't really see it; it soaked your clothes and hair; it was the s=calm before the storm. Mayor Macoy made her opening speech. In my opinion it was pointless, she just liked to show her presence. The Vixens all stood in a line, smiling and proud. My sister and I, both standing beside each other, hair identical, wore the same sad expression when the dedication to Jason Blossom was made. Jason was the one who got me and Cheryl to try out for cheerleading. He was the one who last year convinced me and Cheryl to be captain and co-captain. We owe everything the we now have to him.

"Going me in welcoming our very own River Vixens and their special guest stars, Josie and her Pussycats!" The vixen rustled our pom-poms as the Pussycats got in formation. The student body and parents in front of us cheered. I caught Jughead staring, but it wasn't in general. He was looking straight at me. The thought made my smile widen.

They started singing and we began our routine. I did a run of complicated flips all joined going back and forth without stopping before going into a lift. In the team I was star tumbler and a good flyer because I was light and fearless. My group held my foot in the centre, I was the highest person on stage. They pushed me up as I jumped and switched feet, lifting my right to me ear, a huge smile on my face at the crowd roared. I jumped and did a double twist in the air and then got caught before joining back in with my team for a dance section. As the River Vixen ran off, Cheryl got handed a mic and went on stage, me holding her hand beside her.

The Riverdale Bulldogs ran out, me and Cheryl sharing centre stage. Archie broke through the paper, leading the team out in front of the school. We clapped, smiling. However, that all stopped when we looked again at Archie. I knew from the was my sister stopped clapping that we both saw the same thing. He smiled at us, but we didn't smile back. Last year, when we first lead our team, it was Jason in the same place as Archie. It was Jason that broke through the paper the cheering crowd, smiling proudly at the two of us. The memory of July 4th ran through us, our last moments with Jason. His smiling face. Then the image of his decaying body, nothing like he was when we left on that morning. Looking at Archie again, we realised that it wasn't Jason. Jason wasn't coming back to us. Cheryl ran off stage and towards the changing rooms, while I ran off the stage but was caught by someone who lead me away from the bleachers and the confused faces.

Jughead had led me to the carpark. He said nothing, just pulled me into his arms.

"He's gone. He's gone." I repeated. My heart ached for him. It begged for one last hug from my brother. It pleaded for the impossible. He held me, saying nothing. I heard people begin to move to their cars to go home, but no one approached. I suspected that Jughead was giving out some glares to anyone who looked my way. When he felt me stop crying, he lifted my head to make me look at him.

"I promised you I wouldn't let you go,Thia. You are not alone just because Jason isn't physically here with you." He said, resting his forehead on my own. I breathed in his scent. It was indescribable, yet could be defined by one word: security. Jughead offered me the security that had been missing ever since Jason went missing. He could never understand how much it meant to me when we stood, head pressed together, not saying a word in the early autumn drizzle.

Later that evening, after Juggie took me home so I could change into tight fitting jeans and a jumper that fell off one shoulder, he took me to with him and Archie to Pop's. We saw Betty and Veronica sitting in a booth, drinking milkshakes.

"Do you guys want to join us?" Betty asked after a nod from Veronica. I knew of the tension between Betty and Archie after my sister's party. She loved what she did, still hating Betty after her sister dated Jason. I of course, didn't mind Betty and in fact used to be good friends with her. As for Veronica, I had nothing bad to say about her in the short time I had known her in the Vixens.

"Yes, but only if you're treating." Both girls laughed. Archie took the seat next to Betty.

"Veronica Lodge." She introduced herself. Jughead pulled me with him. I knew he was going to climb over the back of the chair because Juggie is anything but normal. He lifted my hand, indicating for me to go first. Even with my hidden heel shoes, I still jumped over the back of the chair and into the seat by the window.

"Jughead Jones III," he said, jumping over the seat a long less graceful than I did, wedging himself in the gap between myself and the window. Veronica laughed at the way he said his full name, laughing jokingly at the unusual name, much like I did when we first met. His arm was over my shoulder, the other resting on the table as he sat at an angle. I was leaning against his chest, feeling perfectly at ease.

"Cynthia Blossom." I smiled at Veronica, introducing myself to her instead of having her impression of me being like Cheryl. I loved Cheryl, but she can be a bit too cliché-mean-girl. That night we all joked and laughed for hours. It was as if I had never left, and Veronica had been with us from the very start.

To someone on the outside peering in, it would have looked like five people in that booth. But I was there. And I can tell you, really, there were only four. A blonde girl, a raven-haired girl, the luckiest redheaded boy in the universe, and the most stunning redheaded girl anyone had seen. For one shining moment, we were just kids, those bright neon lights of Pop's keeping the darkness at bay, giving way, as nights must, to a morning of reckoning.

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