𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 ⚢ beronica

【 six. 】

Sometimes Veronica would wonder whether her arrival in Riverdale, a voluntary immersion in a place so far removed from her familiar, was a good or bad decision. More often than not, she observed the side-effects of the change, in the way it stripped her of certain parts of her personality while reinforcing others, and was overcome by a curiosity for her own fate-who is she going to become?

She's been aware of opposing, intermittently warring factions of her mind, pulling her in different directions each day. Sometimes she would find herself a step away from returning to her former self, the person whose response to occasional bouts of insecurity, of sadness, of triumph, annoyance, and self-loathing, was always to be bitchy and mean. And sometimes she'd be face-to-face with a Veronica whose first impulse was not, in fact, to be terrible-it was to be selfless and unflinchingly loyal (the kind of wholly virtuous person she would have easily preyed on only a few months ago). This is also the same Veronica who breathes, sleeps, dreams, and wakes submerged in feelings for Betty, and who's found in the girl a kind of anchor to goodness. But still, the prospect of becoming this version of herself, of truly being a kind person like Betty, has always been terrifying, because so much of her self-perceived strength has come from outgunning others in social warfare.

On Sunday morning, when Veronica awakens, she reads a hastily-scribbled note by Betty on her study (of course she woke up late and had to hurry home) and is then overcome by a love that undoes her and simultaneously pieces her back together. She takes note of the familiar writing (neat, even when rushed), hears Betty's voice in her heart, feels her lips bathed in the memory of her kiss, savors a warm, feather-soft sensation across skin that Betty touched and marked. She's absolutely certain that whatever she's going to become, some parts of her have already been carved into shape by Betty.

The last recipient of Betty's affections had been Archie-the human version of puppy pictures-so she's never allowed herself to hope that what attracted Betty to Archie would ever attract Betty to her. Now, however, she can believe that Betty sees in her something worth liking. That she's not as terrible as she had believed. She thinks now that she can choose to be the best Veronica and not falter later.

On Sunday night, when Veronica realizes that she's the only invitee to Cheryl's sleepover, she also notices the Blossoms' familial tension, toxic and thick in levels that are downright jarring. Clearly, Cheryl was planted and raised in soil that predisposed her to the exact strain of malevolent hostility she so readily displays day-to-day at Riverdale High. Veronica was not privy to the goings-on of the town before Jason's death, but she can surmise with some certainty that perhaps the folks in Riverdale have a sturdy resistance to any level of sympathy toward members of the Blossom family, which is why no one has fully picked up on the fact that Cheryl is deeply, irrevocably damaged post her brother's death. Not all vile behavior is the same; Veronica knows there's a stark difference between being bitchy for fun, versus being a bitch because life has dealt you a devastatingly painful hand that you're not, and never could have been, emotionally-equipped to handle. This is a girl with whom Veronica has engaged in ruthless verbal combat, a girl she often loathes, a girl she's kissed out of spite, a girl who is more or less alone in the world. The only person Cheryl has trusted so far is her, someone who is indeed similar to Cheryl, but in ways that she hates, in ways, she's trying to rid herself of.

Facing the reality of being perhaps the only friend Cheryl Blossom counts in Riverdale, Veronica assesses the paths laid before her. She rejects the impulse to leave Cheryl and Thornhill-a place that might as well be an active portal to hell-and sets out to do what Betty did for her. She decides to overlook Cheryl's more obvious instances of villainy and focus on the good-whatever bits of it Cheryl has-and hopes that in time, perhaps with the right encouragement, Cheryl will be faced with two versions of herself as well, and maybe will choose the kinder one.