AFTERLIFE :: Riverdale

XII: Warm Bodies

In the darkest of times—in the most profoundly worst of times—we all look back on the cherished memories we shared with friends.

The reason is because it sheds light on the tragic situation we've found ourselves in. It makes us see that because there would good times in the past, there's no reason there couldn't be good times in the future. It gives us a hope previously unreachable without the friendship of others.

And the ones with the one you love most? That reaches even farther.

So when I sat in Pop's—scratched, bruised, and marked by the hands of the dead, disheveled, crying off and on, and tapping away at my laptop— recalling my memories with Archie was the only thing that could drag me out of this hole I found myself in. It kept me sane for those hours. It kept me from disappearing altogether.

I had taken it upon myself to separate myself from him and my family because I thought it would make them safe. I thought it would make me better. It was the opposite—I felt alone.

Cyan lights quickly flickered out and I was left alone in the darkness with only my computer screen to see with. I suppose they were on a timer.

A rustle alerted me to company. I figured it was just a zombie ambling into the restaurant confusedly. I was ready to accept death. So, it was a shock to me when I could just barely see his freckles in the darkness above my laptop.

"Arch, go away. There's a reason I ran," I said bitterly.

I had to yank my hands away as he shut the laptop with a slam. Now there was no light, but I felt like I could trace his outline perfectly, and I knew he was staring at me with doe brown eyes composed of pools of melancholy. I shrunk under his gaze and looked out of the window at the waxing half moon.

"You aren't going to change, Jughead. It's been too long. You saw what happened with Joaquin," Archie said quietly.

My eyes shifted towards him and back to the moon. "That was different and you know that. He was bitten." I shuffled in my seat. Never had the booth felt this uncomfortable.

"Jughead—"

"It's– it's like pot. When you smoke it, you get the high quicker, but when– when you digest it, it takes longer. And guess what? It's a bigger high. What do you think is going to happen when I turn Archie?" I had raised my voice tremendously.

"Come on, don't be like that. You're always such a pessimist." Archie snickered.

That's right. I was the rain on everyone's parade.

"Archie," I snapped, gaining a silently cold stare from him. "Why do you keep me around?" I asked, quieter. I bit my lip and clenched my fists, awaiting the answer.

"Because you're my best friend." Archie replied as if it was something for a recital. I couldn't see, but I knew he was smiling that goofy smile of his.

I slammed my open palms onto the table and glared directly into his warm brown eyes with my icy blue. "No, you don't get it. WHY DO YOU KEEP ME AROUND, ARCHIE?" I screamed at the top of my lungs. I winced and clasped a hand around my neck, feeling it become raw. I squinted at him through cold slits.

He was silent for a good, solid minute. He was breathing normally and looking at me with a vacant expression. If his chest wasn't rising and falling, I would've pronounced him dead.

He opened his mouth, and nothing discernible came out but the word, "love".

"What?" I hissed, confused by his meaning.

"I love you. I want you around because I love you." Archie nodded, content with his answer.

Enraged, I swept the laptop off of the table in a frozen fury. Sparks flew as shards of the metal and plastic erupted from the broken machine.