Riverdale Oneshots

Blurred Lines

Summary: FP convinces Alice to skip class, with unexpected results.

Highschool!Riverparents. FP/Alice. Rated T.

"Come on, Alice. Just this once."

He's grinning at her with that goofy, ridiculous smile of his, and he takes her hand, letting the sea of people start to flow around them as they come to a stand-still. It's nice not to be part of the human traffic, and she glances around quickly, as if to make sure no-one is watching them.

"We can't," she hisses, and his smile grows, using his grip to pull her down the hall in the opposite direction of where they're meant to be going. She clutches to her pale pink backpack by one strap, newly-blonde hair flowing behind her as her stride becomes a run. Although she'll never admit it, she's smiling too, just slightly, because, even if she never wears it and gets her clothes from the same stores the other girls do, a Southside Serpent jacket sits on a hanger in her closet. Next to all the pink and white, there is leather, unused and protected as fiercely as a new car.

She only wears it around him, just because she knows he won't judge her for it.

Alice's blood sings with danger, with the rush she gets whenever he can manage to convince her to do something that isn't quite right. Taking a drag off his cigarette, riding home on his motorcycle...

Skipping class...

It's not like Mr. Reid will even notice. She never speaks in class, never participates, and he never tries to make her. It doesn't matter to either of them if she's actually sitting at the desk or not.

Alice is, of course, a straight A student. Her mother would allow nothing less. But in this particular circumstance, all that matters are the tests, and she aces those without need for studying every time.

This is what she tells herself as the discussion in the halls fades away, finding them near the empty music room. It takes work to convince herself that this is okay, that she can trust FP, but not as much as it probably should... they know each other perhaps too well. He has worked his way into her thoughts more often lately, and she finds herself remembering summers with him, when she'd sneak out of the house to meet him at Pop's or he'd throw pebbles at her window to the backdrop of a sunset.

There is a certain... romanticism... to her memories, one she doesn't take much notice of, but she does know that when she thinks of pulling up her window to speak to him in the fading light it brings a blush to her cheeks. The same grin would appear on his face when she did that as is visible there now, and Alice realizes there have been many times she's done things just to see it.

She remembers resting her arms on the windowsill and calling him an idiot, her words complimented by his rough peel of laughter, and bites her lip on a smile.

There hasn't been a music teacher at Riverdale HS for years now, and Alice personally doesn't think there ever will be again. She's overheard the administration talking about budget cuts on more than one occasion, and the creative arts just aren't as important as football.

She wishes she could just live on the South Side. Maybe then things would make sense.

FP pushes open the door and it creaks, swinging forward on its hinges to admit them inside. The noise almost seems like it's there to deter, as if the room itself knows they're not meant to be in it. Her steps are tentative, unsure, as she takes it in, amber light filtering in through the windows to cast shadows against unused instruments. Autumn is just beginning to filter into the air, and Alice hugs her cardigan close around herself, a chill curling through her and bringing with it an involuntary shiver.