When Jason Blossom is presumed dead, Riverdale shifts on its axis. Letting in the horror, and darkness that had been held at bay.
Archie, Veronica, Clary, Jughead, and Betty grapple with desires, love, drama, and murderers all while coping with the...
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Jughead Jones
I DON'T KNOW WHAT CAME OVER ME.
I found myself propelled by an unexplainable surge of rage, launching myself at Chuck with a fierce punch that connected solidly with his face. Gasps filled the room as chaos erupted, evolving swiftly into a full-blown brawl. Amidst the tumult, my dad stormed in, his voice booming over the commotion.
"Get your hands off me, snake!" Chuck retorted, struggling against my dad's hold.
"Get out! Now!" Dad's command was authoritative, and the rest of the party guests followed him outside. With the last guest gone, Dad turned to address the remaining tension in the room. "What are you looking at? Party's over! Everyone, go home!" His voice echoed through the now quiet house, dispersing the onlookers.
I tried to move past Dad, but he caught me firmly.
"Where do you think you're going?" His concern was evident as I felt the sting of a cut on my cheek, blood trickling down.
"You want to critique my right hook?" I retorted bitterly, but Dad's grip tightened with a rare seriousness.
"I want you to go back inside and talk to your girl," he urged.
"I don't think it's going to work out. Irreconcilable differences," I muttered, attempting to walk away again, but he grabbed my arm once more.
"Don't walk away. You've got something real here, something with her, with your friends. It's something we could never give you. And after what just happened in there, she needs you to be there."
I paused, emotions swirling inside me, and then nodded silently. With a deep breath, I turned and headed back inside.
"And all this time, I thought you were a lover, not a fighter," Clary remarked softly as she examined the cut on my cheek in a booth at Pop's.
"I'm both. I've got layers," I replied, reclaiming my arm from around her.
"Okay, Shrek," she teased, using a napkin to gently clean the blood off.
"You were being kind. It's just that sometimes, when people do nice things for me, I short circuit," I confessed. "Maybe I'm not used to it. Maybe I'm scared—scared of getting hurt or rejected for being myself."
I turned to look at her, searching her eyes. She hesitated before speaking, setting aside the napkin.
"I didn't sleep with Chuck, or any of the guys I was with after Archie, or even Archie himself. But I should have told you about them. I lied," Clary admitted quietly.
"Why did you throw me the party then?" I asked gently, watching her closely.
She sighed, looking ahead. "Something is very, very wrong with me," she murmured, her voice barely audible. "There's this darkness inside me that's overwhelming sometimes, and I don't know where it comes from. But I think that's what makes me do these crazy things. Like..." She opened her fists, revealing the bloody and bruised divots in her palm.
I sighed deeply, gently closing her hands and bringing them up to my lips, kissing them tenderly. She leaned in and kissed me back, her warmth easing the tension between us. Then, she rested her head on my shoulder.
"Next year..." she whispered softly. "It'll just be us two, I promise."
In that moment, amidst our vulnerabilities laid bare, a fragile understanding blossomed between us, promising a future built on honesty and mutual support.
