ghosts // riverdale

[12]

Riverdale was on edge. Its citizens were making deals with the devil. The community fundraiser had raised some money to cushion those that were suffering from the repercussions of the masked maniac still on the loose. Unfortunately for the Andrews' family, it wasn't a big enough cushion. Archie Andrews laid awake every night, his mind flashing back to the evil eyes staring back at him. The medical bills were forming into a mountain on the entrance table and an avalanche was in the forecast.

Archie had taken a weekend job delivering pizza in his dad's pickup truck. Every tip, every penny went to a fund for his dad's medical bills. He made a small payment once a week when he received his lousy paycheck, yet still an embarrassment arose in his chest each time he called in the payment as he realized that those pennies that he was tossing at the mountain weren't even making a dent in the debt owed. While Archie Andrews was trying, he knew that even the most that he could do just simply wasn't enough.

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Archie leans forward on his bed, his greasy fingers flicking through a small stack of bills. He counts under his breath as he loses track multiple times, his mind racing and his palms sweaty. It was another successful weekend. He beat his own record time in delivering 10 pizzas in under an hour. The trick of the trade was: the faster you deliver the pizza, the higher the tips and the more tips received. "$246," he whispers as he finishes counting the bills for the third time, "$246 in three nights." Archie shakes his head as he tosses the money to the side.

He buries his face in his sweaty palms as his heart quickens in his sore chest. Between school, working on the weekends and football, anxiety had its black hands wrapped around Archie like a demon from the underworld. He was barely sleeping, barely eating and most times, barely even breathing. His phone buzzes on his nightstand as he glances over at the illuminated screen. A text from Veronica peers back at him as his index finger swipes at the screen.

Ronnie: Need a shoulder to cry on. Pop's Diner in 15?

Archie takes in a deep sigh as he bites his bottom lip. Even if he orders him and Ronnie $10 in milkshakes, that's $10 that doesn't go to his dad's medical bills. $10 is nearly what Archie makes an hour delivering the pizzas from his company. If it weren't for the tips, he would practically be paying his company to deliver pizzas. Archie thinks to himself for a few seconds before responding.

Be there in 15. :)

He doesn't need a milkshake. He can order a water and let Veronica get the milkshake. Even if it's only $5 saved, it's $5 that can go to helping his dad. If Archie had learned anything in the past few weekends delivering pizzas, it's that money adds up....quickly. Archie shuffles his dad's car keys into his jacket pocket and peeks his head into his dad's bedroom. Fred Andrews lies on his plush mattress, the bright screen of the television lighting up the room as his exhausted tires are clutched shut.

The short drive to Pop's Diner is a quiet one as Archie stays alone in his anxious thoughts. He doesn't turn on the radio. He doesn't turn on the heater despite the freezing temperatures outside. He just stares straight ahead, his hands tight on the steering wheel. Pop's Diner is nearing its close as patrons slowly leave the empty establishment. Only 30 minutes until Pop locks the doors for the night.

Veronica sits in the booth furthest from the doors as Archie kicks fresh snow from his boots. "Arch," she smiles as he approaches the booth, "I ordered us both our favorite chocolate milkshakes." Archie removes his letterman jacket and sets it next to him in a pile. He presses his lips together as an image of a $5 bill being flushed down the toilet comes to his mind. "Thanks," Archie half smiles as he clasps his hands together.