the other boys ⇨ jarchie

2

archie.

english. i sigh, knowing it's my weak spot. looking at my timetable with disgust, i crumple it up and shove it in my pocket. i open my locker, looking at the familiar polaroid shots of betty and jughead strung on the door all pulling stupid faces - i miss them sometimes. but if i'm gonna graduate high school with flying colours, i'm gonna have to have some sacrifices, even if it means pushing away my friends.

my name is archie andrews and i have messed up very badly. in life? no, in everything i do. let's start on my early years: my parents divorced and my mother left when i was 7, because of a miscarriage she had that she blamed on my father. i had two best friends, betty and jughead, which i soon detached from in middle school, because i wanted to be down with the popular kids like jason blossom, chuck carrera and reggie mantle. it doesn't feel right. that was elementary school and i even think about it now.

middle school came along and blew everything out of proportion. it was a blur. jughead was nothing but nice to me but i left him, especially when he needed me the most (his transitioning period, when he was 13 he tried to make his voice deeper, bless him) and then when betty was going through a hard time with cheryl bullying he,  i didn't even stick up for her.

i am a bad friend. a horrific one.

then i got to high school, where i am now, starting my senior year, where piles of homework will be handed to me for my finals. great. and now, jughead has started hormones, is the top of the class, probably has A's in all classes - apart from p.e, of course. betty and jughead are still friends, cheryl blossom is the same old bitch, and as for archie andrews, well, he hasn't changed at all. same old archie through and through.

i start striding toward the lunch hall, my english books in my hand and backpack slung on tiredly. i barely got any sleep last night, my dog vegas was barking his head off because he wanted to sleep on my bed, but, i didn't want my feet getting squished. chuck, reggie and jason are all sitting at a table, gossiping about josie and the pussycats.

"dude, she's so hot. i heard that black girls are freaky in bed," reggie said.

chuck raised an eyebrow. "nice stereotype of you there, reg."

"oh my god, what about cheryl? i'd take a fox like her home to mom," reggie cackled, wolf whistling in her direction.

jason scratched the back of his neck, sweeping his ginger locks back. "can you not? she's my sister. yeah, the pussycats are hot, but don't you think they wanna be called beautiful every once in a while?"

reggie and chuck let out synchronised groans. "jason, shut the fuck—"

i'm not one to let people be outnumbered.

"hey guys," i interrupt, sitting next to jason.

"andrews," reggie said, leaning in. "what's your first class?"

"um, english, why?"

chuck laughed, slamming his hand on the table. "oh my god, you're in the same class as that jughead kid."

i frowned. yeah, i wasn't particularly friends with jughead, but i definitely preferred him over chuck.

"really?" as if i didn't know that already,  you dumb fuck. "oh, i didn't realise."