Cheryl Blossom checked her makeup in her rear view mirror, and applied a fresh coat of Dior lip gloss in Venus Pink. She got out of her silver Mercedes, and headed toward Pop Tates, all legs and bounce. Her parking job had been haphazard at best, and she hadn’t even glanced at the parking meter. It didn’t matter, no one ever got parking tickets in Riverdale. Even if they did, she still wouldn’t care. She had never given a thought as to who it was in her father’s employ that took care of the citations that got mailed to the house after Cheryl ignored the first notice on her windshield, but of course someone must do it.
The diner smelled like frying oil and ice cream, a scent Cheryl found both irritating and enticing, which basically summed up her feelings about Riverdale as a whole. She stopped in the doorway, posing without thinking, as she scanned the room for someone she knew. A particular someone at first, but, failing that, anyone she could sit with. She never ate alone. Finally, she spotted someone she knew. Ugh, that hat. He wasn’t her ideal companion, but she hated looking like she didn’t have a purpose, so joining him was better than leaving.
“Hi, Jughead,” she said, perching on a stool next to him at the counter.
Jughead Jones slowly looked over from his plate of cheeseburgers.
“Hey, Cheryl. Were all the malls closed today?”
What the hell? Cheryl thought. Literally every other boy she had met would stutter or spill things, or at least try really hard to impress her. When she first met Jughead, she thought maybe he was trying to neg her or some other pathetic pick-up artist technique, but now she was pretty sure it wasn’t that. He had kept it up too long, and besides, he spoke to her the same way he spoke to Veronica and Reggie, and anyone else he thought didn’t quite measure up. He’s got to be gay. It wasn’t the first time she thought it, but the thought comforted her. She wasn’t sure what to do with a boy who didn’t want her, unless he didn’t want any other girl, either.
“Yes, sadly they were. It’s a national day of mourning. All the stores close to grieve your tragic hat. Have you seen Archie?”
Pop approached the counter before Jughead could answer. His mouth was full anyway.
“Hi, Cheryl! Can I get you anything?”
“Sure, Pop. Can I have a strawberry milkshake? Actually, better make it two. I don’t want the bottomless pit to mooch all mine before I get a sip. Thanks!” Cheryl smiled at Pops. Like all the older men in Riverdale, he wasn’t a creeper. It was easily her second favorite part about the city. Her first favorite, though…
“Thanks for the shake. You shouldn’t have. It will go straight to my hips.”
“Ugh, I wish it would. You deserve type 2 diabetes and a fat ass. So?”
Jughead swallowed another bite of burger and smirked wryly.
“Ah, yes. The whereabouts of my ginger comrade. I believe he is at a matinee with Betty.”
“Jesus, why? She could do so much better.”
“Yeah, I’m sure it’s Betty’s emotional well-being you’re concerned about in this situation.”
“It’s true, I like Betty!”
“Is that why you’re always trying to steal her boyfriend?”
Cheryl threw a curly fry at Jughead. He caught it, and ate it.
“Archie is not Betty’s boyfriend,” Cheryl said. “He’s the jerk who keeps dicking her around.”
Jughead raised an eyebrow.
“What? Like you don’t know he’s a jerk?”
“He’s my best buddy, and I’m not a pretty girl, so he’s not a jerk to me.”
Pops arrived with two strawberry shakes. Cheryl held in her snarky response to give Pops a smile and a thank you. She could trash Archie to Jughead until she ran out of air, but for some reason she didn’t feel comfortable trashing him if an adult could hear her. She took a sip of her milkshake, pursing her lips prettily around the straw.
“You already know Arch isn’t here, you don’t need to bother with the covergirl schtick.”
“Oh, Jughead, how do you know the covergirl schtick is for Archie? Maybe I’m trying to impress you.”
Cheryl looked up at him through her eyelashes, sure of the complete lack of reaction she’d see on his face. He didn’t disappoint.
“Yeah, maybe. And maybe I’ll give up cheeseburgers for New Year’s. Seriously, isn’t it exhausting, living in your own mental photo shoot all the time?”
“Are you really asking, or are you just being your usual charmingly judgemental self?”
“Let’s pretend I’m really asking for the sake of passing the time, huh?”
Cheryl rolled her eyes and sighed. What do you do with a guy like this? She couldn’t help but trying every once in a while to fluster or shake him with meanness or flirtation. It literally never worked.
“Fine, I like playing pretend. My “covergirl schtick,” as you so charmingly call it, just comes naturally now. The real effort would be not doing it.”
“Try. I’d like to see it.”
“Not on your life,” said Cheryl, stealing another curly fry, dipping it in her milkshake, and popping it in her mouth. Jughead did the same, and smiled and nodded, then did it again. Cheryl gave him an assessing stare.
“That may be the most enthusiastic I’ve ever seen you.”
“What can I say? I appreciate culinary discoveries.”
“I can’t believe you’ve never tried that before.”
They sat in a companionable fry-and-milkshake silence. After a minute, Jughead looked over at Cheryl.
“The movie started at one. And I think Veronica has him claimed for a dinner party at chez Lodge tonight. I doubt you’ll get a chance to see him.”
“Ugh, that’s exactly what I’m talking about. He’s literally dating both of them within a six hour span. I don’t know why Betty puts up with it. If I were her, I’d tell him to make up his mind or GTFO.”
“The hell you would. You’re not her, but you’re you, and you you haven’t told him that.”
“That made no sense, and I still understood what you were talking about. Spooky.”
“Blame it on the milkshakes.”
“I’m serious, though. The difference between my situation and Betty’s is simple: I don’t actually want Archie to be my boyfriend. I like him, sure, but Betty wants his little ginger babies one day. I don’t know why she puts up with it.”
“She puts up with it because she doesn’t have a choice,” Jughead said, looking pensively at his fries.
“Of course she has a choice. She’s gorgeous, clever, talented, and so sweet sometimes it makes me hate her just a little bit. Like, she should for real hate me, but she is always kind. Do you know she remembered I mentioned once how much I loved cherries in my brownies, and the bakery I used to get cherry-chocolate brownies closed down, so for my birthday she tracked down the former owner, sweet-talked the recipe out of her, and baked them for me? With frosting roses, for crying out loud! That’s insanely adorable, just like everything about her. She could date literally anyone she wanted, but she settles for being treated like a side piece by the biggest player in North America. What is that about?” Cheryl punctuated her speech with the last fry, flushed with vicarious indignance.
“Like you said, she wants his ginger babies. She’d just be lying to herself if she tried to date anyone else seriously. Besides, it’s not like the other option is much better.”
“How do you figure?” Cheryl asked, signalling to Pop down the counter to bring another plate of fries.
“Say one day Archie picks her. Sure, she has Archie, they get married, they have their gingerbread family, whatever. You think she wouldn’t spend every single day wondering if he had only settled for her and if he really wanted to be with Veronica but felt like he couldn’t have her? And even if she was able to quiet that doubt for a minute, she’d still have to think about all the time he had spent with her, how many times he’d kissed her best friend’s lips, how far they’d gone, if he still fantasized about her, if she measured up. There’s no winning when you’re in love with someone who is in love with your best friend. It’s hopeless.”
“Shit, Jug, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
For a second, Jughead looked like he was about to deny it, maybe argue. Then he didn’t.
“Why would you know? No one else does. I never even told Hotdog,” he said with a wry chuckle.
“Especially not Archie. And please don’t–”
“Don’t even say it. I can be mean, but I’m not evil.”
The moment was too serious for both of them, but neither one knew what to do about it. Pops came by with the fries. Cheryl thanked him, and got her purse. She checked her makeup in a compact, reapplied her lipgloss, and fished out too many bills and dropped them on the counter. Jughead reached for his wallet.
“Don’t bother. You already owe Pops so much, I think he’s going to claim your firstborn.”
“Hey, I never turn down free food. Thanks. Want me to tell Arch you stopped by?”
“No, I think I’m going to head out. I was only just passing through on the way back from my cousin’s place.”
Jughead raised his eyebrows at Cheryl.
“Okay, not quite on the way,” she said with a sigh. This is just pathetic.
They said their goodbyes awkwardly, which Cheryl hated. She hadn’t felt awkward since she was ten years old. As she headed back to her Mercedes, she decided to head in the direction of the multiplex. Maybe she could catch Archie before he met up with Veronica, and maybe Betty would see it. Jughead might be a quitter, but she sure as hell wasn’t.
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