The first day at a new school is always nerve-wracking, no matter how many "first days" you have. Personally, I've had plenty. My family bounced around a lot, never staying in one place too long. There wasn't a particular reason, really, my parents just wanted to see as much of the world as they could. I did too, until I started high school. Now I just want to settle down and finish school- in one school- and stop being "the new girl" every year.
My parents understood where I was coming from- why I wanted to finish high school in one place. So we made a deal. I would spend my freshman year in California- which is the last place we'd lived in- and then my parents would pick a place for us to settle down for a while so I could finish school. The catch? Because I got to choose where I spent my freshman year, they got to pick where we lived for the next three. Unfortunately for me, that place was Riverdale.
The town seems cute enough, but it's so quaint compared to what I'm used to. I love the big cities, with bright lights and noisy cars. In Riverdale, the brightest light you'll find is the neon sign outside "Pop's Chock-Lit Diner," whatever that is.
It was the first day of school. I was a stressed mess, desperate to get through the day. After struggling for a full five minutes to open my locker, I put my bag away and wandered around until I found the main office. I met the principal, who seems like a nice enough guy, and he volunteered to escort me to class. My first instinct was to politely turn him down, but I knew that I'd never find this classroom on my own.
He leads me down a few hallways until we reach a room- the chemistry lab- already full of people listening intently to the teacher. The principal clears his throat, causing every head in the room to turn around and face us. My eyes scan around the room, glancing over all of the faces of my new peers. My gaze settles on a particular red-haired boy, wearing a bright blue varsity jacket. When he meets my eyes, my stomach flutters, and I look away. The principal introduces me, and tells the teacher I'll be in this class from now on. When he leaves, the teacher has me stand in front of the room to tell the class about myself. Nothing I haven't done a thousand times before.
"My name is Y/N Y/L/N and I moved here from Cali. I've lived in 36 of the 50 states, and my family plans on staying here until I graduate," I say.
"Cali?" a boy asks, sitting in between a blonde haired girl and a raven haired girl.
"California," I reply with a smile.
"I know what it's short for," he says, rolling his eyes and laughing. "But how do you end up going from California to our small town of Riverdale?"
"I didn't pick this place," I say, and I find myself looking again at the red haired boy. "My parents did. We haven't lived in this state yet, so... here we are." I trail off, and an awkward silence fills the room.
"Well then, Ms. Y/L/N, why don't you take a seat next to Mr. Andrews," the teacher instructs me. He points the the boy I was looking at earlier, and I beg myself not to blush.
I walk over put my books on the table, sitting down next to him. Once the teacher turns back around and continues talking, he turns to me and says, "36, huh?"
I laugh. "Yep, a whopping 36."
"Which was your favorite?" he asks me smiling.
"Hmm, that's a hard one. I'd probably have to say either California or Louisiana."
He laughs. "Louisiana?"
I feel myself start to blush. "They have the best food," I tell him. "And Mardi Gras is incredible."
"Good to know," he replies. "My name is Archie, by the way."
"I've gotta tell you, Archie," I start. *** "You're probably the hottest stranger I've ever seen." ***
He laughs at that- a real, hearty laugh- and I find myself laughing too. "I'm hardly a stranger," he says when he's finished laughing. "We've known each other for a full seven minutes now."
Before I can respond, a girl with long red hair sitting in front of me turns around, and says, "Y/N, is it?"
"Yes," I tell her slowly.
"I'm Cheryl," she introduces with an obviously fake smile. "You missed cheerleading tryouts, but I have a feeling you'd look good in a River Vixen uniform. What do you say?"
Before I can convince myself to look for a way out of this situation, I nod say, "Yeah, sure."
"Great," she says, turning back around.
Archie laughs. "You're a cheerleader?"
"Definitely not," I tell him. "But she doesn't know that."
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That night, after a grueling cheerleading practice, I'm heading to the girl's locker room when the football team comes in. As many of the girls stop to chat, I spot a familiar face in the sea of boys. "Archie!" I call.
When he finds me, he grins and walks over, bag slung over his shoulder. "Hey," he smiles. "How was practice?"
"Let's just say I'm going to be very sore tomorrow," I say, and he laughs. "How about you? Was football practice as disgusting as I imagine it to be?"
"I don't know,why don't you tell me?" he says, stepping toward me in his dirty, smelly practice jersey.
"No thanks!" I squeal, taking a step back. "I prefer to admire from afar."
He just laughs and shakes his head. "Cheryl was right," he says, referring to the brief conversation I'd had with the red-haired girl earlier that day. *** "Those shorts look really good on you," *** he tells me.
I feel myself blush. "Why thank you," I say, smiling at the ground. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, a huge person crashes into me, spilling some type of red energy juice all over me. I gasp as the cold liquid soaks through my shirt.
"Oh, um, I'm really sorry," some kid says, hardly containing his laughter.
I just sigh, looking down at my shirt and hoping that somehow the stain will come out. The next thing I know, Archie is grabbing my hand and leading me towards a bathroom, where he drags me in after him and closes the door.
"What are you-"
*** "Take off your shirt." ***
"What?" I practically squeal.
"No, not like that," he corrects himself, digging around in his bag. He pulls out a blue football jersey and offers it to me. "I just meant put this on instead, so you're not covered in juice," he says smiling.
I roll my eyes and laugh at him. I gratefully take the shirt from him, and hold it between my legs as I peel off my sticky shirt. I notice his eyes get slightly wider at the sight of me in my bra before he looks away. I have to suppress my giggles.
I slide the much-too-big shirt over my head, and smile at him. "Well?" I ask. "How do I look?" The shirt is longer than my shorts, making them practically invisible.
"Um, good, I- I mean it looks- I-" he just stops talking and I can't help but laugh at him. *** "My clothes look good on you," *** he finishes.
"Thanks, Andrews," I say with a grin.
Maybe living in Riverdale won't be so bad after all.
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CREDIT: multifandomximagines
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