Deadline ((Jughead Jones)) 4

19

Walking into school for the first time was hard. I had a scan the previous day and found out that the baby was healthy and doing well. I was 7 weeks along, which was further along than I thought I would be, but that didn't matter. Mr Honey had greeted me and Betty, who insisted on walking with me, offering both his condolences and congratulations.

I had always expected there to be such a hatred surrounding a teen pregnancy In fact, I believed that there still would be, and had it not been for Jughead's death, the stares that I was getting in the corridors would have been very different. Instead, they all guided me to Jughead's old locker, from before he was in Stonewall. It hadn't been assigned to anyone else. Now the empty locker had become the focal point of the school's memorial, pictures, drawings, flowers, candles, messages, a camera. Everything was on the locker and spilling onto the lockers either side of his, and whoever they belonged to hadn't opened the locker in a while.

Betty ran off as soon as she saw the locker, Archie following her, but I stayed. I stared at the metal and cried, wondering why I had bothered trying to come to school. Then I felt arms around me. My sister. Then suddenly another pair of arms joined. Toni. And soon, every Serpent and Pretty Poison and Vixen and Bulldog and student joined this hug, because they could see how much I was hurting and how much I needed this. And they stayed. They stayed in place while I sobbed, louder than the warning bell and louder than the teachers coming to find out why their students weren't in class. They stayed until I had stopped and had calmed and had stood without support. Because that was what I needed.

By the time everything had settled, lunch brought new complications. Rumour had it that Betty and Archie were now an item, that 'Archica' was no more after a very public break up in the student lounge. And worst of all, from seeing Donna's very public tweets. She was trying to spin that Betty had offed Jughead just because he threatened to tell Ronnie about Archie's secret affair. The tweet was taken down almost as soon as I had read it, as if it was made just for me to see.

"Oh, Cynthia, I was wondering if we could catch up now?" I heard Alice call from down the corridor. I looked at her. "We can do the interview in Mrs Burble's office, with her there?" She was trying to offer me everything that she thought would make me do the interview. I couldn't just avoid her forever. Alice Cooper was nothing if not relentless and every newspaper had wanted to get an interview from me or FP. FP usually offered a few words.

"Okay." I nodded and followed her into Mrs Burble's office, being met with the over friendly and overly understanding smile from the counsellor.

I was facing the camera, being told to talk at the camera as if Alice wasn't there and as if it were the camera asking me the questions. In the lens I could just about see my own reflection, and even in the small amount of glass, I could see I looked terrible. I was in Jughead's shirt and leggings, and Jughead's oversized jacket that didn't even smell of him anymore. That hurt. That they were losing his scent and soon I would have no more t-shirts that smelt of him, to remember him.

"Cynthia, what do you think of the rumours that Jughead is still alive?" She asked. I looked down, broken. I couldn't answer that one. Because I wished as much as I could that I would someday wake up and believe them and not feel this pain. I would give up everything if it meant seeing him again.
"How do the rumours make you feel?" Alice asked, when she realised that I wasn't going to answer that one. I inhaled. The quicker I do this, the quicker it's over.
"It hurts. I want nothing more than for Jughead to walk back into our lives because then I wouldn't have to go through everything alone. And it just hurts to be reminded that it won't happen." I whispered, and I didn't know whether anyone had heard me. I was told to look at the camera, but I could only spare very slight glances before looking back down at my hands as my nails dug into my palms. This was the most I could do without hurting my baby.
"And what is it like being pregnant?" That wasn't what she meant, but everyone who would see the interview would know what she meant. 'What is it like carrying the child of your dead boyfriend when you're so young?' Most adults wouldn't be able to deal with this.
"Hard. I'm terrified I'm going to lose the baby and then Jughead will be truly gone."