the other boys ⇨ jarchie

12

jughead.

my eyes flutter open. i awake on the couch in what you could call the living room, and the cushion i used as a pillow is stained with wetness - the memories of last night flood through my head. my dad came home drunk and almost beat me again, and i remember crying myself to sleep. i get myself up, my kitten james sitting by my side. he meows at the sight of me awake.

once i eat my breakfast, i go in the shower and put my clothes on. i choose a grey jumper with planets on it, and my usual black denim jacket for warmth in the depth of winter. i throw on my iconic beanie and gather my school books, when the door to the bedrooms opens as i'm stood in the kitchen about to head out.

"jughead? where're you going?" my dad says quietly.

"um. school, like i always do? it's tuesday," i retort, making sure there's no attitude: i don't want a repeat of last night.

his face lights up slightly. "ah, right. have a good day son, i love you."

he tries to engulf me in an embrace when i push him away. "fuck you."

he backs away from me. "excuse me? why are you being like this, jug? i just want you to have a good day at school."

"you should know exactly why i'm being like this." i pull up my jumper to reveal a harsh, purple-black bruise on my torso.

his dark brown eyes fill, regretfully, with memory. "jug, i—"

i open the door to the caravan, heading out like i have the power of an army. "just forget it."

once i slam the door shut, i start my ritual walk to archie's, heading through the junkyard i'm supposed to call home. let's hope i don't walk in on him with his shirt off again... or should i hope? meh. either way i'm seeing his sexy face. once i get out of the looming metal gates, i find my way out of the thin stretch of woodland that gathers around the junkyard. i finally reach the footpath that takes me straight to his house, 'new york city cops' by the strokes blasting through my headphones.

around twenty minutes of walking later, i approach archie's house. for a second, i just stand and watch. he has the perfect life. nice friends, nice dad, nice dog, nice house, nice neighbourhood. what have i got? multiple mental illnesses and a fucked up family. i gently open his white wooden gate, striding past his lawn. flowers of every shape, colour and size grow next to me, glowing vibrantly in the morning sun. drops of dew from the melted snow of the previous night swallow them.

i barely get a chance to knock on his pristine front door when it's opened. archie stands in the doorway, his gaze friendly, warm and inviting. the specks of honey in his eyes twinkle in the sunshine, and he smiles his signature grin.

"hey jug."

"hey." we stare at each other for a few seconds. "so... are you gonna let me in or not? i'm freezing my non existent balls off."

i hear someone call from the kitchen. "language! i heard that!"

i snort. "pfft, sorry fred. but it's true."

"yeah, sure, come in," archie beams, opening the door wider.

i step inside, the whole atmosphere changing as i do so. i wipe my feet on the door mat, and i shiver. his house is so enticing, and so beautiful inside; it may look like an ordinary house for some, but i haven't seen one in years. fred beckons me into the kitchen, the smell of coffee and, what is that, dog food?