The New Girl In English Class

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~Jughead Jones X Reader~

Description: Jughead isn't a social butterfly, but the new girl, with her impressive writing skills, may be an exception.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1005

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Jughead didn't care much for his classmates. He had a select amount of friends, and they satisfied him. He found no point in socializing with other people just for the sake of more people to talk to.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N), the new girl, was no exception to Jughead's belief. She had recently moved to Riverdale, and she sat in the back of Jughead's English class. Although he never saw her with any friends, Jughead felt no obligation to act friendly towards (Y/N) because she had no other friends. That was not his job.

"New girl's pretty," Veronica commented at lunch one day. Jughead looked up from his chips at Veronica. "So what?" he asked, eyebrows raised. Veronica raised her hands in mock surrender. "Woah there, Jughead," she rolled her eyes, "I'm just saying."

"I feel bad for her," Betty joined in on the conversation. "I don't think she has any friends." "Being the new girl is hard," Veronica empathized with (Y/N), popping a fry in her mouth. "It's hard to make friends at a new school. I got lucky with you guys." The whole table cooed at what Veronica said, then laughed.

Their English teacher made them write an analysis on the book the class had just finished. Jughead, a natural-born writer, finished it with ease. Most of the rest of his class, from what he could tell, struggled with the assignment.

The day that the assignment was due, the English teacher surprised everyone by announcing that the analysis would have to be read in front of the whole class. This sent some of Jughead's classmates into a frenzy because no one felt confident in their writing. Jughead was the only volunteer to read. He stepped up in front of the class and effortlessly read his analysis, and once he finished he plopped back into his chair. Because there were no more volunteers, his teacher began to randomly select students. Every student who went up stuttered and fumbled and lacked proper analysis in Jughead's opinion. Unimpressed, he sat in his chair with his arms crossed and a judgmental look plastered on his face.

"(Y/N) (Y/L/N)," the teacher called out. Jughead shifted in his seat so he could glance at the new girl. Her eyes were wide as she shakily stood up. Grabbing her paper, she ventured to the front of the classroom. She cleared her throat and began to read. Jughead was shocked by her eloquence: her voice was clear and smooth, her writing was immaculate, and her analysis had extreme depth. When she finished, she quickly sat down before any students had the chance to applaud.

The bell rang, and while the other students dashed out of the room, Jughead approached (Y/N) as she stuffed her binders into her bag.

"That was impressive," he commented, leaning against the desk in front of her. She turned to face him. "What was impressive?" she inquired, pulling a bit of hair behind her ears.

"Your writing," Jughead answered. "It was very eloquent. You're very good." "Yours was better," she responded, shrugging her bag onto her shoulder. She began to exit the classroom, and Jughead followed in her footsteps.

"That's debatable," he countered, "And I don't say that too often." (Y/N) laughed at that, causing Jughead to crack a smile. "Well then, I'm glad that someone has finally met your standards," she quipped, and his smile widened. "Anyhow, it was nice talking to you, but I have to go to history now." Her pace quickened as she left Jughead's side, and he stood in the hallway as he watched her walk away. He barely noticed that his cheeks were a bit redder than usual.

Over the course of the next two weeks, Jughead tried to get to know (Y/N) better. He moved his seat so that he was next to her in English. He began to invite her to his table to eat lunch with him and his friends. Although they all noticed his shift in attitude, they chose to remain silent. They were going to let Jughead figure this one out on his own.

It took Jughead another three weeks before he finally realized what happened. He was sitting in his booth with (Y/N) across from him. They were working on an English project, each of them working on their own individual assignment. There was no conversation being tossed between them, just a soothing silence. Jughead looked up from his writing and saw the girl sitting across from him, and then it hit him. He liked her.

"(Y/N)," her name spilled out of his mouth before he could stop himself. Her head snapped up, and she shot him a puzzled glance. "Yes, Jug?" she questioned. Jug. When did she start calling him that? "When did you start calling me that?" he voiced his thoughts. (Y/N) shrugged.

"I don't know," she answered. But he didn't care about the answer to that question. What he was really wondering was when did everything change? "Is this a date?" his words stumbled over one another as they poured out of his mouth. He immediately regretted saying that.

"I didn't think it was." (Y/N) remained calm. "It can be if you want." Jughead almost missed the second part of her reply, but once it registered in his mind, he burst into a grin. (Y/N) shook her head with a smile etched onto her face, and turned back to her English work.

"Or would this not be our first date, since we've come to Pop's together so many times before?" Jughead wondered aloud. (Y/N) laughed as she set her pencil down. "It's our first date, Jug," she told him. "It's' the first because we didn't acknowledge it before." Jughead smiled cheekily.

"Then this is a great first date."

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