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 WALKED INTO MY DADS TRAILER TO FIND IT SURPRISINGLY CLEAN
I glanced around and chuckled to myself, then my dad emerged from the back, his face freshly shaved.
"Dad, have you been body-snatched?" I joked, amused by his unexpected transformation.
"Oh, I feel good, Jug. Wanted to look good too. Shaved, cleaned the place up a bit. Even put a little paint..." Dad explained with a grin.
"I brought us some coffee and donuts," I said, holding up the tray.
"And I read your... uh, your essay? Manuscript?" Dad mentioned as we walked towards the table.
"You did?" I asked in surprise, setting down the tray of treats.
"Yeah," Dad nodded knowingly. "I asked you for it, didn't I?"
"Yeah, I don't know. I figured you were just pretending to be interested," I admitted, taking a donut.
"This is excellent. Me, I can barely string two sentences together, but you... You got a gift. Thank God you're not wasting it," Dad praised, then leaned forward with a serious look. "Mind if I ask you a couple questions?"
"Sure, of course," I agreed, curious about what he wanted to discuss.
"Why Jason Blossom, huh? Out of all the things you could write about, why pick a dead kid?" Dad inquired.
"I don't know. It was sort of like he picked me," I sighed. "To tell a story that no one was going to tell, or even know how to tell. To see things from the outside, looking in."
"Who do you think killed him?" Dad pressed. "I mean, you and Clary are in this deep. You gotta have an opinion."
"For me, it's not really about 'whodunnit.' It's more about whether Riverdale is a place of good or a place of darkness and evil," I explained.
"Or both. Most things are both. Can I make one suggestion?" Dad asked with a hint of humor. "That's what Clare says, then it's about a dozen suggestions."
"I think, at a certain point, you should move on. You can't let this be the only story you're going to tell, Jughead. Hell, it shouldn't even be the most important one," Dad advised, his words resonating with wisdom.
I nodded thoughtfully, appreciating his insight and silently considering his advice as I finished my donut.
Clary was busy arranging Homecoming decorations in the gym when I walked in carrying another box.
"Hey, you," I called out as she descended from the ladder, wiping dust from her hands. She smiled and kissed me lightly before taking the box from my hands.
"Why didn't you mention the dinner?" I asked eagerly.
"What dinner?" she replied with a smile, setting down the box.
"Your mom practically ambushed me in the hallway to invite my dad and me over before the dance. Weren't you aware?" I questioned, noticing her expression briefly falter before she regained her composure.
"No, I... I've just been juggling so many things..." Clary gestured around the room. Being Homecoming Chair with Cheryl was a long-standing tradition. Even though it was their second year, they had organized every dance since fifth grade together. She had never seemed stressed about it before.
"I'm a bit nervous about the whole social experiment aspect, but I think it'll be good for our families to connect," I said, reaching for her arms. "It's important for us, don't you think?"
Clary nodded. "Yeah," she murmured, cupping my face gently and kissing me tenderly.
The Andrews were gathered in the kitchen when I swung down the banister.
"Hello?" I called out.
"Jughead, hey," Archie greeted awkwardly.
"Am I interrupting a family meeting? 'Cause I can come back," I offered, pointing towards the door.
"Absolutely not," Mrs. Andrews assured me. "So, who's going to the dance? Besides your dad and me... Oh, and Hermione, whom I invited."
"You did?" Mr. Andrews interjected, surprised.
"We'll talk about it," Mrs. Andrews replied quietly.
"Wait, you guys are going to the dance? Together?" Archie asked, clearly curious.
"We were discussing it," Mr. Andrews clarified, glancing at his wife.
"We both want to hear you play, if that's still happening," Mrs. Andrews added.
"If you're okay with it," Fred looked at Archie, seeking approval.
"Yeah, totally. I'm good with it," Archie affirmed.
"Good," Mrs. Andrews said, tossing a takeout menu his way. "Order something for us while you're at it."
Later that night, I remarked, "So the worm turns. Mary and Fred. A possible rekindling?"
"That would've been a Li'l Archie's pipe dream," Archie replied from his bed.
"Stranger things have happened, man," I turned to look at him from my air mattress.
"Like, for instance, my dad shaved. Which is the equivalent of tectonic plates shifting. I was thinking, maybe it's time I go back and live with him again."
"Based on the fact that he shaved?" Archie turned to me.
"Well, he also hasn't missed a day of work, and he quit drinking," I listed, hopeful for his approval.
"That's... That's great, Jughead. But maybe you should wait a little bit longer just to make sure it sticks," Archie advised cautiously.
"No, dude, I'm telling you, something has shifted. I mean, he even asked to read my work. The essays, the articles I wrote about Jason," I said.
"Your dad did?" Archie's curiosity piqued.
"Yeah. And he read them. Even more surprisingly, he engaged with them. He asked me questions about them," I elaborated.
"What kind of questions?" Archie asked immediately.
"Like who I thought did it," I shrugged.
"Your dad asked you who you thought killed Jason Blossom?" Archie repeated incredulously.
"You repeating everything I'm saying is getting really annoying," I slumped back down.
"Crap, I forgot. My mom likes almond milk in her coffee, and we don't have any, so... I'm gonna go get some," Archie said as he got dressed and grabbed his shoes.
"You are a terrible liar, Archie. Off to a late-night rendezvous with a certain raven-haired princess?" I teased.
Archie shot me an angry look. "Relax, man, I'm just giving you a hard time."
