Lifeline ((Jughead Jones)) 1

7

Once again, I was sat in Pop's, leaning on the head of Jughead and he typed furiously on the laptop in front of him. In the early hours of the morning, the coffee keeping us both awake, he read to me the novel so far. It was my way of catching up on the new revelations in his investigation. Archie Andrews sleeping with a teacher, and the probable uncovering that was soon to happen. Hearing his voice, I was entranced. He could animate every word and it shocked me at the amazing quality of the story. If it wasn't for the fact I lived in the town and the victim was my brother, I would have thought he had crafted this story himself.

Every night, this was our routine. Pop had gotten used to us coming in and sitting in silence as Jughead wrote, occasionally asking me if a line made sense or his phrasing was correct. It was on one of these early mornings where I learnt that the Twilight Drive-in was closing. Jughead was living there currently, to escape his dad. That Drive-in had many good memories, almost as much as Pop's. It was where Betty first told me she like Archie, even though I doubt that was still the case. It was wear Jughead had first hugged me. A horror movie was playing. Nothing too scary, just The Woman in Black, but it was the first scary movie I had watched. Jughead had let me in the projecting booth to watch it with him. When I kept flinching from next to him on the sofa, he put his arm around 14 year-old-me, and told me he would protect me. About a week later was when we truly started to drift apart. It was there that I first realised that I liked Jughead.

"The Drive-in closing, is just one more nail in the coffin that is Riverdale." He ranted, looking out of the window with an angry expression. I was sat closest to the window, Jughead beside me and Betty beside Jughead. Opposite us sat Kevin and Veronica. "No. Forget Riverdale. In the coffin of the American dream. As the godfather of indie cinema, Quentin Tarantino, likes to say—" But Kevin cut off the rant that had been going on since last night when he first told me and all day at school.

"Please, God, no more Quentin Tarantino references." He said, speaking the thoughts that everyone was thinking as they listened silently to Jughead.

"What? I'm pissed," He began. Before he could continue, saying things that I had already heard before.

"We know J, but you'll get another job, it's fine." I tried to comfort him, putting my hand on his arm. Although he didn't flinch away completely, I could tell he was agitated that I had cut in. So, being the understanding friend, I am, I took my arm off and tried to scoot as far away and possible. Despite his bad mood, he seemed upset that I had moved away and so discreetly edged his body to the left so that our shoulders and legs were touching, as if it calmed him.

"Not just about losing my job. The Twilight Drive-in should mean something to us. People should be trying to save it." He was getting more upset the more he spoke about it. It was then Veronica who cut in, trying a more reasonable approach.

"In this age of Netflix and VOD, do people really want to watch a movie in a car? I mean who even goes there?"

"People who want to buy crack." That offended Jughead. Kevin was a lovely guy, but he was could upset people in a more discreet way. He never meant to, but ended up saying the wrong thing.

"And cinephiles and car enthusiasts, right Bets?" The fact that he had asked Betty for support, didn't sit well with me.

I knew they were both writing for the school newspaper together, but I didn't think they were that close. Apparently writing piece for a newspaper that hardly anyone at the school read brought two people very close. Maybe I was over reacting, but I felt he was slipping through my fingers and into Betty's. In Jughead's position, I'd pick Betty. The innocent blonde hair, the naïve girl-next-door vibe and completely perfect. I couldn't, however, bring myself to be angry at her or surprised in Jughead's new found interest. She replied totally, obviously day dreaming and not actually paying attention to the ranting going on at the table.