Lifeline ((Jughead Jones)) 1

9

I woke with a start, gasping for breath as another nightmare tore away my sleep. Without the comfort of Jughead, I was forced to battle the darkness away by myself. Seconds after I woke, Cheryl sat up gasping from beside me. Clearly she had a similar dream to me. It was a common occurrence for the both of us to be curled up together in a bed that wasn't our own. To us, it was a way to be closer to Jason.

"I told you both, no more sleeping in Jason's bed." Mom said, face blank of emotion and some acholic beverage in her hand. That's how she spent most of her nights now, drink in hand and roaming the halls as if waiting for her son to come home. She was dressed in her usual silk night dress and gown, all very posh in the small town of Riverdale. Cheryl and I had always thought we would be more at home in New York's Upper East Side than Riverdale.

"We were working on the eulogy. For Jay-Jay." I said softly to the dragon watching us in the door. The bed beneath us was littered with paper crumbled into balls and then flattened out again. A classic red notebook that was far more expensive than any notebooks most people got, because Blossom's insisted on having paper made of gold, lay beside us. Although the paper wasn't actually made from gold, the bright red colour reminded us what it meant to be a Blossom. It was a statement.

"Don't bother," she snapped, stepping into the room, "You won't be speaking at the memorial." I looked down at that comment, tears welling up in my eyes. My own mother couldn't bring herself to let me speak at my brothers' funeral. Mother couldn't even call it a funeral. It was a memorial because she didn't want to admit that he was dead.

"Neither are you Cheryl. God knows what you'd say. Something to humiliate us." Her judgemental mind read the least crinkled piece of paper as Cheryl watched her in silence. Nothing we said, did or planned could make her forgive us, even if we were her daughters. Crewing up the paper with a bitter glare, she dropped it dramatically on the bed. We both held back our tears, knowing that it was pointless to cry about it. She left soon after, leaving us to trail back to the separate chill of our rooms.

In the morning I had attempted to leave the house in blue ripped jeans and an off the shoulder jumper. Before I could get down the stairs to the door, mom had spotted me and banished me back upstairs until I put on some 'proper' clothes. Usually I wouldn't let her dictate to me what I wore, especially since I knew Jughead preferred me in casual clothes, but after last night, I didn't have the strength to argue with her. After all, it wasn't just my reputation that came along with the Blossom family name. I was picking out some red leather trouser when she burst into the rooms, declaring she was going to pick my outfit because I couldn't be trusted anymore. I felt like I was the young child going to an important event again, where my mother had to choose something appropriate. When I slipped into the knee length pencil skirt with a low-cut top, so it revealed just as much cleavage to be considered revealing. It was the signature red that was the Blossom colour. She forced me into my desk chair where she scraped back my hair into a bun that made the skin on my head stretch. I put on my black heels and left with Cheryl.

The dress was so tight I couldn't breathe properly, let along walk and sit. I could tell that this was going to be a long day.

We were heading around, inviting our classes (minus the intolerable ones) to Thornhill for Jason's funeral. Cheryl lead us outside after talking to her River Vixens, heading towards my group. Jughead and I agreed on not telling the group explicitly, instead letting them work it out for themselves. It was easier on both of us and saved the hassle of how to break it to them and who to tell first.

"Sorry to interrupt Sad Breakfast Club. I'm here to invite you to Jason's memorial at Thornhill this weekend." Cheryl passed out the completely black envelopes, held together by the Blossom seal. I held one in my hand, walking up the steps of the bleachers, ignoring the squeezing feeling around my waist as the dress moved to barely allow me up the stairs. My beanie-wearing Jughead looked at me, then my outfit, trying to hold back his laughter.

"Don't say a word, mom made me wear it." I warned him as I reached the space beside him. I sat down next to him, handing him his invitation. It took me all night to convince Dad to add Jughead to the guest list, but I managed it. He took the invitation, his hands brushing over mine, causing me to grin at him. With a goodbye to me, Cheryl left to hand out the remainder of the invitations. Apparently, she had made a comment to Veronica because I only caught the last comment Betty said.

"—She is burying her brother." Betty didn't realise I had sat down with them, or she just forgot. My head looked down instantly, not needing another reminder of how I was spending my weekend. Jughead saw my reaction immediately, moving his hand onto my thigh to show his support. I leant into his warm chest, forcing whatever tears were about to be shed back down inside me. Veronica got up to go after my sister, but the rest stayed seated.

All was quiet until Kevin, who was sat next to Jug, caught a glimpse of the position Jughead and I were sat in.

"Guys? Anything you want to tell us?" He announced loudly, making sure that it caused Archie and Betty to turn around. We didn't bother trying to pull away, it wasn't worth it, and they would all get angry at us not telling them sooner.

"Nope." We answered at the same time. Archie raised his eyebrow, looking at Jug's hand and then back to where my head was resting on his shoulder. I felt Jughead move, so I looked up at him, worried he was uncomfortable with the stares of the people around him. Instead, he took my chin in his hand and pulled me into a kiss that was far from a peck on the cheek. We pulled away to see the wide eyes of our friends.

"On that note, we'll be going." Jughead smiled, picking his bag up as he stood and then offering a hand to me. I took it immediately, letting him pull me up and then help me down the stairs. We started to walk towards the school building, hands interlocked, smiles on our faces.

Despite Veronica spending the night before we buried Jason at our mansion, I avoided both of them. Instead I sat on my bed, flicking through photo albums with tears in my eyes. Hours passed. I got a text from Jughead asking if I was ok. I replied, 'yeah, J. Just looking at photos. U?' I got a response half an hour later. I wasn't one to be angry that someone didn't reply to me straight away, I didn't expect that. 'Just running through theories with Betty.' The reply made my heart stop. He was with me. But on the night before his girlfriend buried her brother, he was with another girl playing Sherlock Holmes. 'Hope you had fun. X.' I lay back in the bed, surrounded by memories and my mind swirled. She liked him. I know that he wouldn't do anything with her, though. Yet I didn't feel as trusting as I should have been.

I had my black, lacey, off-the-shoulder dress on earlier than anyone else in the family. I spent every moment I had spare stood looking at Jason's coffin and wishing it was me inside and not him. It wasn't until I heard two voices that I turned around. Jughead entered, coming towards me immediately, leaving Betty to take her seat. His hand wrapped around my waist as I stood looking at the wooden box that held the body of Jason, an image that was permanently imprinted in my mind. Before either of us say a word to each other, the dragon lady herself came towards me and ripped me out of Jughead's safe arms.

"Go and get Cheryl down here. Then sit quietly and don't ruin this day." She hissed. I nodded, mutely, and ran up the stairs, glancing at Jughead to show him that I was ok while he took his seat.

Cheryl was standing, looking into her mirror when I entered her room. She came towards me and we held each other's hands, showing mutual support.

"How about we throw fuel on mom's already heated fire?" She asked, knowing that I would agree. If it was going to anger our parents, then I'd do it. They had taken away the right to speak at his memorial, so we were going to humiliate them more than they ever thought was possible.