A singel look:Bughead

I knew who she is

3-person:

On Saturday's detention, five students came in different backgrounds. They were strangers. Everyone was as long as possible. No contact. Not a word.

The recruiter stood in front of the cathedral and looked out over the students. He presented his presence list and began to shout.
"Josie McCoy" the politic animal.
"Veronika Loge" the Catholic rebels.
Cheryl Blossom "the teacher's pet.
"Archie Andrews" artistic athlete.
"and Forsythe Pendleton Jones Jr." Ladies' Man.
"Anyone who knows where miss Copper is," asked the chief executive, spreading the students. "No one at all?" he asked again. A rack arm quickly jumped into the air like an arrow. "Yes Miss Blossom"
"I suppose she propagates her south side scum hybrid, bastard babys." she said with clear voice and quick words.

After Cheryl's speech, the door was opened to the classroom. A blonde rises into the room with her backpack over her shoulder. She was wearing a pair of light blue jeans with a pair of stockings underneath. She had a black bralett, some pushing her chest and a south side serpents leather jacket. On her head she had a black cape's hat. Her heels hit the floor as she walked down and sat down at a bench in the corner. Everyone followed her with her eyesight.
"Thank you for kidding Miss Copper," he said, and booked by her on the list. "So now that you're all together, listen carefully." He started distributing paper sheets to all the students while he was talking. "You're not going to talk." You're not going to play. "You're not going to play." Medas he passed Archie and took away his trumpets as he had tricked. "You're going to write an essay on a thousand words about why you're here . Any questions? "Everyone looked silently at him. A hand raised in the class.
"Yes, miss McCoy?"
"What happens if we need to pee?"
"Then, do you keep them missed?"
With that he left the room and went to his office.

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Everyone was quiet in the room. No one said one word to another. The room was filled with the sound of pencil to paper. But it was only Veronika and Cheryl who wrote on the task rekton get them.
Forsythe sat with his bubble gum.
Archie was leaning over his bench trying to sleep away.
But a loud scratch over the pencils. It was Betty. She sat in her corner against the window now without her leather jacket. She is holding a knife firmly and shakes her initials on the fender board. E.C.

Forsythe / Jughead's POV:
Everyone is silent. Stand for themselves. I'm in the middle of the hall. The only thing you can hear is Cheryl and Veronika's pens. I still have my blank paper in front of me. I have not written a word and have no plans to start. And I was not the only one. Archie has gone over the paper to sleep off the hours of this hell. And Miss, the bad girl there behind had hugged the paper to a ball and threw them to the door after the recess went out of space.

Silence breaks when a high scratch begins. I'm wondering if she's doing it. She shakes something with her knife on the board. She sits down the chair facing the window and leaning forward. She only wears a short tip top which is no more than a bra but she does not notice damaging a dew. The two other girls would not do if they even paid them. She leaned so far forward that her breasts almost trembled. I saw how Archie turned in the same direction I checked.
"Dude can you not?" shot he at here. She turned to Archie's hole.
"Dude, can you bite me?" she said to him. With them, Archie turned over and lay back on his bench. She must have noticed that I was staring for her to lift her head and coldly asking me. With them I turned over again with a smirk on my lips.

After a while:
After a while everything was even boring one I ever thought it might be. I had to look over the last square centimeters of the room with my gaze. Memorize every item in the room. I turn back back into the room against her side. She is sitting now and plays with her hand knife in her hand. I get up against the chair and walk toward her. She puts down the knife on the bench and looks up on the mash of roots.

"So what can you say?" I asked her. She flinted at me. and answered:
"I think you know what my name is Forsythe"
"I do not think so," I said with a smile.
"You think that just because you dress like them and behave like them, you become like them. But we both know who you are and do not forget it. And I think you know who I am," she said to me.
"You can refresh my memory," I said with another smirk.
"I'm Elizabeth Copper but prefer Betty but for you it's Elizabeth," she said flinning.
Then I sat in my seat again. I knew who she is.