Touch Of Serpents

Ch.3 Serpent and the Boy.

•••••{Jughead's POV}•••••

It's the night before my junior year of high school starts. My mom and dad are arguing over the phone. Him drunk and trying to convince her to come home. I'm sitting in my bedroom, the only bedroom in this piece of shit trailer, I call home. As I sit here alone, listening to my parents fighting for the millionth time, it seems, I'm drawing on the calf and thigh of my leg. I wear basketball shorts to sleep, so I cover as much as I can until I fall asleep.

With a groan- I wake to my alarm and someone pounding on my front door. Of course my dad is to drunk and to asleep to answer. Once I reach the door I hear "Jones! Let's go!" I open it to reveal SweetPea. My best friend. The child of my dad's best friend. And our neighbor. "Yeah-yeah." I mumble while sleepily turning around to go into the kitchen for coffee.

I'm dressed, more awake, and on my second cup of coffee when I finally reach SweetPea. "Took you long enough." He grumbles. I roll my eyes secretly. Don't get me wrong, SweetPea is a good guy, he is like my brother, but he is an ass.

Entering SouthSide High is literal hell. Jingle Jangle, weed, and Fireball fill my nostrils. And seeing how it's only 8 am, I'm already irritated. I'm the future serpent king, so at least that warrants me some brownie points in this cesspool. "Out of my way, Fuckers!" Once I scream that, a path is cleared. It isn't until our seventh hour period that Toni and Fangs suggest we ditch.. We go behind the school. As we are smoking a cigarette I accidentally catch my middle finger with the lit end, causing a slight burn. I wouldn't have if I wasn't hitting Fangs upside the head for saying something stupid.

I get lost in thought that night. I'm curious to know who my soulmate is. If I even have one. I mean my mother left me, taking my little sister with her. From me. She left me with a father who we all know is a great role model. So I've decided that I'm loveless. I mean I've never seen any messages anywhere from her. I mean, don't we all write on ourselves at some point? I suddenly get the urge to grab my pens and as I'm drawing the green eyes I picture every now and again come back into my mind. My dad barges through the trailer, drunk. I help him get to the couch. I take off his boots and sigh deeply.