Deadline ((Jughead Jones)) 4

21

It was over. The evils of Stonewall Prep had been vanquished.And life in Riverdale, more or less, picked up where it had left off. I went to hospital appointments, trying to settle into the mindset of fatherhood, Archie and Veronica were back to being the IT couple, and Betty was back to reporting for the Blue and Gold.

But at its heart, Riverdale was and is a wicked little town. So, no one was surprised when a third round of sinister videotapes was delivered to our doorstep.

Another round of videotapes. I wasn't surprised in the slightest and they were just the same as the last ones. Whoever was making these, was going to great lengths for very little gain other than freaking out the entire town for a few days. Just as with the previous tapes, the ones before were forgotten until a new one arrived. But what did we expect, that was Riverdale.

One thing they were good for though, was bringing the whole family together. Because, just like every other household, the Coopers and the Jones' and me, were all huddled onto the couch, watching the tape and skipping through hours of nothing. And once everyone had gone to bed, I stayed at the window. In a town like Riverdale, a wicked little town like Riverdale, the tapes would only be the beginning, and I dread to think what the step up would be.

"And if you've got no other choice, you know you can follow my voice," I sang. This year's variety show would be featuring songs from Hedwig. Even better, the songs suited this town more so than they should.

Then I felt arms snake around my waist, settling on my stomach. 9 weeks. Nearly ¼ of the way through and getting ever closer.

"Through the dark turns and noise of this Wicked Little Town," Jughead sang huskily in my ear. I loved it when he sang. His tone was rough, barely used, but sweet and melodious, and everything that I wanted to hear. Jug knew better than trying to pull me from looking out the window, instead joining me, showing me that he was there and wasn't about to leave anytime soon.

No one slept much that night, although that wasn't unusual for the town's resident queen., as they waited for a new day to dawn.

Betty had made a binder. Of course she had made a binder. It was all to try and get Jughead to graduate with us and I had no doubt that a similar one was made for Archie. It was colour coded and labeled and indexed. He had an essay for American History that would be his first task; a book report for English; many more colours because that was only red and blue. He still had green and yellow and purple and black and white and pink and orange. Easy stuff.

Jughead's pursuit to graduate led to me reading his book report on 'Call of the Wild'. It was a book that the both of us had read, and it was the one I had chosen for my own book report. But as I read, I had to tell myself to keep a straight face, to not frown, because I was thoroughly disappointed with all of it.

"Okay, so you know I support you, and I think you are going to be one of the greatest crime fiction writers of our generation, Jug." I began, thinking that it is always best to start with the positives in situations like this. I wasn't used to Giving Jughead criticism. "But this feels a little...phoned-in." I admitted.

I watched his face fall slightly, but he didn't seem that surprised. It was like he knew it wouldn't be his best work and he didn't mind showing me tha. Every novel I had read of his was outstanding, but a simple book report lacked individualism and creativity.

"There's typos and incomplete sentences, and I still don't know what the thesis is." As I spoke my words, Jughead sighed and put his head in his hands. I just looked at him expectantly, awaiting his response.

"Yeah, okay. Maybe I'll go offline, hole myself up in the bunker after school and really focus on it. Play Thomas Pynchon for a while." I smiled at him, telling him that it would be a good idea.