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( volume ii, chapter xii )
i live my life a quarter mile at a time
HOUSE OF THE DEAD
DECEMBER 2ND, 2017
SOUTHSIDE RIVERDALE
It was rock music this time. Mia didn't hate it as much, but she still hated it. What she hated more, though, is the fear her brother was a complete moron upon bringing along Archie with them. Like, seriously?
''Me and my boy wanna challenge you to a race,'' Jughead proposed, ''if we win, Serpents remain autonomous and you quit dealing at Southside High.''
''And if we win?'' Malachai sniffed, pointing a finger at his chest. Mia rolled her eyes at the man, and his dreadful fashion sense: a skull-print wrestling robe and studded leather cuff.
''We fold, and you can continue polluting the Southside with your little straws of death.''
''The mighty Serpent Prince has some stones,'' the Ghoulie leader applauded, ''but not much else. So, unless Your Highness wants to put some of daddy's territory out on the table, I got no reason to agree to this race—''
''They were following me,'' a random Ghoulie reported, bursting into the room. Another one closely followed, except he had Veronica and Betty in his clutch. ''Tried to get in the garage.''
''Veronica? Betty?''
''Archie? Jughead? Mia?''
''Wait, so these are your bitches?'' Malachai interrupted, gesturing at the two girls.
''I beg your misogynistic pardon?''
''Splendid,'' Mia spat, ''even on the fucking Southside of Riverdale I can't seem to escape Veronica's way with words.''
''Why don't you take your skanks,'' he suggested, ''and get the hell out of here? Until you make me a better offer, there'll be no race.''
Jughead snapped as he rid himself of Tall Boy's grip, approaching Malachai. ''If you win . . . we'll give you the White Wyrm. You can expand your drug-dealing horizons and get out of this literal hellhole.''
''We'll take the Wyrm, and Sunnyside Trailer Park,'' the beanie-clad boy raised his chin to nod just as Malachai opened his mouth again, ''and the pretty princess.''
Mia stepped in before her brother could even process the Ghoulie's words, having grown stuffy and highly uncomfortable in the room. It was as hot as an oven, and frankly, she would've abandoned her precious fur coat right then and there if it meant she could leave. ''Deal.''
༺✧༻
SOUTHSIDE STREETS
DECEMBER 3RD, 2017
SOUTHSIDE RIVERDALE
The air was buzzing with energy. From a bird's eye view, the scene would've looked like two sides of a Janus coin with an anomaly — the Ghoulies (all metal and spikes) the Serpents (all leather and tattoos) and the tiny cluster of Northsiders (prep and privilege) who attended for whatever reason.
''All right, let's do this!'' Tall Boy bellowed, the two gangs firing up in a racket of cheers. ''Let's do it! Get these cars up in a row!''
It was sort of a sad sight, really — Mia sat all on her lonesome in such a large crowd of people. She most definitely wasn't about to go and start rubbing elbows with the Ghoulies, but Lord knows where she stood with the Serpents and the Northside. No matter how much she pretended and wished, she was not a cross-breed between Betty, Veronica, and Cheryl, but she also wasn't a Toni. Mia was just . . . Mia, and that had to be enough for now. And it was enough, even more so when a cool shadow washed over her, resting his muscular arm on her shoulder.
༺✧༻
SHERIFF STATION
DECEMBER 4TH, 2017
RIVERDALE
''You had options, Mia, and you chose to not use them.''
Mia stared at Sheriff Keller, bewildered, running on two hours of sleep in an interrogation. ''I'm not quite sure what you mean, Sheriff.''
''I know you've been sleeping with your teacher. We received an anonymous correspondence from a concerned citizen of this town.'' He informed her, before reaching into a drawer in his desk and producing a thick envelope.
She took it from him, cautiously, already knowing what the pictures inside would reveal. Images of them at the bar the night they met, in Southside High classrooms, even in his car now scattered the Sheriff's desk, and this was not a case that would go down lightly.
''We would've called your parents, but given the circumstances, your social worker should be here within the hour.'' The blonde didn't say anything, not until the phone rang alarmingly and slashed silence. ''Yes? I'm relieved to know he's in custody. Thank you.''
''You're arresting him?''
''In this state it is a felony for a teacher to have sex with a minor. Alaric Phillips is going to prison, and not just for this. What you don't know, Mia, is that your so-called lover was much more than an English teacher. We've caught the Sugarman.''
༺✧༻
Further confirmation that everyone in Riverdale wears masks. Case in point: Alaric Phillips.
By day, he is a ❛kind and caring❜ English lit teacher, hiding his true nocturnal identity — a ruthless drug dealer and revolting child predator.
Sweet dreams, Sugarman.
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