Matches ♕ Bughead

♕ | Chapter Fifteen

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chapter fifteen: rebels with a cause

♚jughead♚

IF THERE'S ONE THING  I'm good at, it's floating. I'm not talking about physical floating like Marry Poppins or your childhood game of blowing bubbles, I'm talking about the mental floating. The floating of reality, of life. I've found that I have a great ability to float past problems, not brooding about every little rock in my path. I've learned to float past the whispers, the judgement people make about me. I float in the back of the crowd, away from most of the people in my grade. I float like I don't exist, and they don't see me, don't even really pay attention to me just like the way nobody really pays attention to the clouds that float in the sky. Sure they know the clouds are there, but they don't really care.

I simply float through life. I don't know where I'm going exactly, but all I know is that for now I plan on enjoying the float.

Because I am a floater, I floated around town last night, simply non existent for a few hours. I didn't go back to Betty's, in case she wanted some time alone, nor did I go to the school where I had originally planned to sleep.

I eventually found myself back at Pops diner, where he fed me coffee to keep me awake as I continued to write my short story.

I must have fallen asleep some time in the booth, as I was woken up by Pop in the early morning hours as he slid a cup of coffee into my hand. I'm convinced the man doesn't sleep, as I've never seen him leave that restaurant. He's there in the early morning and till the clock strikes way past midnight. Heck, I'm convinced Pop lives here.

While roaming around town I ran back by my house and grabbed a suit stuffed in the back of my old closet. Jason Blossom's funeral was today after all, and I presume the whole gang will be there. It'll be a historic formal meeting between Riverdale's very own Hatfield's and McCoy's. I can only hope some steam was burned off in yesterday's incident.

By the time I grabbed myself breakfast and my suit the sun had risen over the horizon creating a marvellous orange glow radiating throughout the translucent clouds.

Time seemed to fly like the speed of light, and for some reason I was in a pretty good mood. I mean, I shouldn't be considering today is the day of Jason's funeral. I just can't help but smile all my way to Betty's house.

It's now ten in the morning, the sun shinning and the birds chirping. It seems so cliche like something out of a perfect suburban American dream, but the morning really is beautiful. Almost as beautiful as the girl I'm about to meet.