I have no idea why I wrote this... But I guess here you go?
Hiding underneath the bleachers. Because sometimes High School is such a grind, she has to take a moment to disassociate, scribbling thoughts into her journal. It does beat getting into trouble, though. Something that was damn near impossible down at Southside, but oh so easy here at Riverdale, where at times it feels as if merely speaking her mind will earn a suspension.
She's not a novelist like Jones wants to be. Or a poet like Sweet Pea, loathe as he is to admit having a talent for it. Her ability with words on paper is more casual observer. See the world a certain way and comment on it at her leisure. A month into attending a new school, she's seen an abundance of new things worth mentioning. Like every assumption she and the Serpents ever made about the privileged upper class is irritatingly true.
Finishing a particular observation, she's caught by the sound of footsteps on gravel, her attention pulled from the page to Cheryl Blossom suddenly within her eye line. Her breath catches, the redhead in full River Vixen regalia, glancing at her surroundings to see if she's alone.
Toni quickly closes the journal, slips it into her bag as quietly as she can, and looks for some kind of exit to slip away unnoticed. It's when the girl starts to cry, that Toni freezes, somehow still unseen from her perch atop an empty steel barrel, her body partially obscured by some old tackling apparatus long forgotten by the football team.
It's the most awkward thirty-five seconds, stuck there listening to the sobs, before she finally clears her throat to make her presence known. Cheryl is quick to wipe at her eyes, and like magic, you'd never know there were any tears at all. A flash of embarrassment shines through her expression, but she swiftly covers it with a scowl, crossing her arms with a huff.
"Are you okay?" Toni asks.
The scowl only deepens, like it's the most ridiculous question she possibly could have asked, and turns her back for good measure.
"Fine," comes out in a clipped tone, though her breath still wavers.
It's her out, Toni realizes, but for whatever reason chooses not to take it. Instead she places a tentative hand on Cheryl's shoulder, who immediately shrugs her off.
"Are you still here?"
"What's wrong?"
Cheryl's head turns sharply toward her.
"What do you care?"
It's a valid question. One Toni doesn't exactly have an answer for.
"I don't know," she replies honestly.
Cheryl turns around at that, trepidation replacing the anger in her scowl.
