chapter eight

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gracie's pov:

"why is everything so weird here?" veronica asked, sitting down on the bleachers, followed by kevin, betty and jughead. "why can't a date just be a date? how about you, archie? how's life in a pg world?"

archie looked up. "pg?"

"pg. post-grundy. what too soon?"

i snickered. "that was a good one, vee."

"fry?" she asked.

"you know it." i nodded, greatfully taking three of her french fries. "thanks, love."

"coach clayton says i have a shot at being varsity captain, so i'm not thinking of anything else right now." archie said.

"in short— you're back to being boring." i groaned.

"are you maybe throwing yourself into football as a way to avoid your feelings?" betty suggested.

"i'm not avoiding anything, betty, i'm trying to get my life back on track."

"i can help with that." valerie brown, of josie and the pussycats, came and at sat to us. "i know ms grundy was tutoring you—"

"understatement of the year." ronnie joked, and i nearly chocked on my water. betty turned around and grinned.

"—there's this amazing songwriter from new york, who's an adjunct at carson college," valerie continued. "—incredible mentor. he does some coaching on the side, and i told him about you. you wanna meet him?"

"yeah. yeah. i'd love to." archie smiled. "but— football—"

"no." betty interrupted. "archie can, and he will."

valerie nodded and gave archie the number. "call him if you want, but do it soon. his spots fill up fast."

"thank you, val."

she nodded and left, walking higher up the bleachers.

"now you have zero excuse for avoiding music." betty said.

"he misses miss grundy's music—"

"sorry to interrupt the sad breakfast club," cheryl appeared. "i'm here to formally invite you all to jason's memorial at thornhill this weekend." she passed each of us an invitation.
"to my surprise, mother added you to the guest list." she glared at veronica. "in case you're tempted to steal our silver candlesticks: don't. we'll be searching bags. toodles."

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"days like these really put things into perspective, huh?" veronica said, taking a seat next to the rest of us at the memorial.

"where have you been?" i asked.

"sleepover. with cheryl."

"you? had a sleepover with cheryl?" i chuckled, and veronica looked at me blankly. "was that not a joke?"

no, cee. cheryl and i have decided to be civil and work out our differences."

i raised an eyebrow. "i see. i guess my invitation got lost in the post."

"are you jealous?" veronica smirked.

"no."

suddenly, the huge double oak doors at the end of the room swung open, and cheryl walked towards the front; dressed in white. unusual attire for a memorial.

"oh my god—" everyone's mouths were agape.

"welcome to thronill." cheryl greeted, standing behind the podium. "thank you all for coming. if you'll take your seats, i'd like to start the memorial with a few words about jason."
penelope blossom fidgeted in her seat.
"i was wearing this dress the last time i saw jason. i know it's impossible, but i swear, when i put it on, it feels like he's in the room with me. even though we were twins, i used to demand to have my own birthday party. until one year, out of the blue, jason convinced me we had to combine them into one. it wasn't until years later that i found out why— it was because no one wanted to come to mine. and jason didn't want me to know. he protected me. every single day. i wish that day at the river, i would've protected him." she began to sob, and turned around to his coffin. "i'm sorry, jj. we've failed you. all of us—"

penelope rushed from her seat to the podium. "i think we'll adjourn now, to the winter salon for a light supper."

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"and where are you two going?" i asked betty and jughead.

"uh... to investigate." she replied, as they crept into what i assumed was jason's room.

"is it me, or did the temperature just drop like it does in the horror movies?" i whispered.

"it's the icy chill of the dead." jug replied.

"where does a teenage boy hide things?" betty asked.

"under the mattress, maybe in the drawers, behind the headboard, in the closet—" jughead replied.

"guess i know where i'll be looking to find out your secrets, forsythe." i joked, even though both jughead and i knew we didn't have drawers, or a headboard, or a closet.

the three of us began to search the room, looking for anything like that might catch our eyes, until we heard a croaky voice behind us. "hello."
i nearly jumped out of my skin.

"we're—we're so sorry." betty apologised to the old woman in the wheelchair. "we were just leaving—"

"oh, it's you. how lovely to see you again." the woman smiled. "come closer. i want to get a good look at you, my dear."
betty reluctantly stepped forward a bit.
"come closer, polly."
she thinks betty is polly.
i looked at jug and he raised his eyebrows.

betty sat down on the edge of the bed so she was eye-level with the old woman. "it's nice to see you again too. i'm really sorry it had to be under such terrible circumstances." betty said, unsure of what to say or do.

the woman took betty's hands. "well, of course you aren't wearing it. bless."

"wearing what?"

"the ring, polly! that ring has been in the blossom family for generations. you keep it close to your heart, always. but don't tell penelope i gave it to you. or she'll likely come and snip it off your finger!"

"i—i won't. i promise." betty stuttered.

"such a shame... your wedding was the last thing i was living for... i lost a grandson, but you... you've lost the love of your young life. poor child."

"excuse me." betty uttered, standing up. "i— i can't—" she rushed out of the door and my brother and i followed after her.

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