Forkanna/Jessica. Big Honking Gay™. Writer, gamer and giant nerd. INFJ. Feminist always, SJW without being a dick about it. Donate link in my FAQ page!
Bet you didn't have THIS on your July 18th roadmap! Yes, I've been quite absent, even though I haven't stopped writing; I just haven't been in an editing headspace. I promise I am trying to get back into it. Hopefully this chapter helps make up for that, for anyone still looking forward to it.
CHAPTER WARNINGS: heavy gay makeout session, brief grinding.
B&V: Unattainable
CHAPTER SIX
"UGH! What a waste of an hour of my life!"
Veronica threw her purse into the nearest bush as she stomped away from the Riverdale courthouse. Of course, then she regretted her little tantrum and went back to retrieve it, but sometimes the anger simply had to be vented. Her next move was to, of course, plop down onto the nearest bench and bury her face in her hands.
How pointless. She really had believed that mentioning her father's name, and thereby wielding his wealth and power secondhand, would have resulted in her making a little more headway. Nothing doing. Not only were they closed to the public, but no matter how many people she tried to get to make an exception for her, she hit a brick wall. Even the young blond intern had cleared his throat nervously, obviously affected by her feminine wiles, and then turned her down the same way everyone else had.
"What's the point in being rich and hot if it doesn't get you anywhere?!" she burst out in frustration, sliding lower along the bench.
"Hey, you tell me, chica."
Veronica started and looked over to see the third-trendiest girl in Riverdale High, following herself and Cheryl - though based on personality, she would have gladly bumped Cheryl down a spot. The bedazzled black Lululemon leggings were her own creation, and so was her peach peasant top with bleached streaks, perfectly evenly spaced. Nobody in town dressed quite like her.
"Hey, Ginger," she sighed as she picked herself up and dusted off the back of her skirt.
"So, why isn't being rich and hot enough? I'm trying to get rich myself eventually, so I'd like to know the pitfalls to avoid."
Veronica snorted as they both moved over toward the fountain in the Riverdale town square, taking seats on the edge. Privately, she found herself a little jealous of Ginger's rainbow peep-toe wedges; they didn't look terribly expensive but they were super cute. "If I knew, I would tell you. But I probably just need to accept that I can't always have my way."
"Psh," Ginger scoffed. "That doesn't sound like the Veronica Lodge I know. You're giving up? Just like that?"
"You don't even know what I was trying to do."
"Like that matters! I think you got this, whatever it is."
"Well, thanks," she said, staring down at her Choos glumly. "I think Cheryl moving in on my territory just… it's a blow to my confidence, that's for sure. I'm not used to having to work this hard for anything, which makes it a lot easier to wanna give up."
"Ohhhhh, Llamas Gemelas," the other girl drawled out with a knowing smile, shifting her beauty mark higher up her cheek. When Veronica just blinked at her, she translated, "'Twin Flames'; those two firecrotches falling all over each other."
Veronica gasped and blushed slightly. "H-hey, don't sit around talking about Archie's crotch!" But when Ginger just laughed at her, she sighed. "But you're not wrong, that's… that's it exactly."
"Mmm. I thought I noticed you and Bettina shooting laser beams at that new flaca with your eyes. Is it just that she's competition, or…?"
"Maybe it's more than that," she hedged.
"I see, I see. Well…" Ginger sidled a little closer. "If it's more than that, then I'm really interested."
That made the rich girl squint at her friend for a few seconds. Should she trust her? Honestly, she trusted her more than she did Tomoko - and Tomoko already knew every speck of the dirt. Plus, she knew Cheryl had done nothing to win over anyone's loyalty since splashing down at Riverdale High - other than the boys, that is.
"Well… alright, but you're sworn to secrecy."
"Oh, girl, " she shot at her in a deadpan. "I ain't new. C'mon, spill!"
~ o ~
As they went to grab lemonade from a nearby stand where some kid was peddling her way-too-bitter mixture, Veronica filled Ginger in on the sordid details from her past. At least, all the details she cared to give. Nobody needed to know quite the amount of nonsense she had gotten up to in her previous life; it was bad enough she had to start admitting that she had a previous life, other than "I was rich, and still am, just over here now".
"…and that brings us to why I'm iffy about Cheryl making too much noise around here," she sighed as they reclaimed their spot on the fountain.
"Ayyy, you were trying to be a little bad girl, huh?" Ginger giggled, nudging her with her elbow before taking a little sip. "EW, that girl has never heard of sugar? Or agave? Anyway…" After clearing her throat and turning more fully toward her friend, she demanded, "You gotta tell me just how wild you got. Like, this is Riverdale, y'know? I can't imagine you doing anything worse than jaywalking, or trying one sip of your daddy's champagne."
"You would be surprised. Nothing that would hurt anybody, but a few things that could have gotten me hurt. Or thrown in juvie if it got much worse. But all of that is behind me, I swear - which is why it's even more important that I keep it all under wraps, and why I need to find out more about Cheryl and how much she knows."
"You keep not filling in those blanks, though…"
Veronica cleared her throat and crossed her legs. "Listen… I'm… let's just say Cheryl isn't the first Blossom I've had to deal with. She's just the only one I somehow never knew existed before now."
"That's the biggest blank you won't fill in. Why do I get this feeling that it's the Blossoms you're worried about? And not Cheryl herself. So who's-"
"SHHH!"
Ginger let out a little squawk of surprise as Veronica yanked her down behind the lip of the fountain. She barely managed to turn and kneel down before she whispered, "Hey, tonta - what the fuck?!"
"Shut up! Look - there he is!"
"Archie?" She looked across the fountain and frowned. "I just see some blond himbo."
"Yeah - that's the guy who wouldn't let me into the records department. What do you think, college?" She squinted and watched the guy casually walking toward the park. "Let's follow him."
"Why would we do that?!"
"Because he's a guy in Riverdale that I don't know. On top of that, because he's a guy who could let me into the records room if I got to know him better."
Shaking her brown locks, the blonde streaks in her fringe bouncing, she said, "Ricachóna, you're literally the weirdest. But I can't lie, it sounds fun; I'll play along. Right up until it gets too weird, fair warni-"
Ginger didn't even get to finish her sentence before Veronica was yanking her along behind herself, their lemonades completely forgotten. They darted between bushes and trees as they cut through Pickens Park, occasionally spotting the clean-cut boy's short blond curls as he passed a statue or other landmark. They were heading away from the more open pathways and gathering areas of the park and toward the more dense trees, even if they were still well-maintained.
"This is starting to get boring," Ginger whispered.
"It is not!" As they watched the guy lean against a tree and check his phone, Veronica pouted. "Alright, so it's getting a little dull. I can't believe you're such a quitter." She chewed her bottom lip, trying to figure out if she should keep gathering intel on her target or make her move, try to strike up a conversation again. Make more headway than the last attempt.
"Watch your mouth, girl. I'm not a quitter when it's something worth doing, but this is just- wait a minute, who's that?"
Just as Ginger spoke, she saw the blonde was now being joined by another, more familiar face. "Wait… that's Frankie-something. Is he your brother?"
"Could you be any more white?" When Veronica whipped back around to raise her eyebrows at her, Ginger hissed, "Girl, I know the Latinx population of Riverdale is like ten people, but I'm not related to all of them. He's Puerto Rican - do I look Boricua to you?"
"SHH!" Veronica hissed, on the pretense of trying to listen to the two men chatting - although she also did feel a little guilty. She genuinely thought Ginger and Frankie looked slightly alike in terms of skintone and facial features, but not like identical twins or anything; maybe she should dissect that at a later date. But she had a mission to worry about right now.
Which meant pushing Ginger backward into a bush as the other two walked a little closer. There was nowhere else to hide if they wanted to remain undetected. At least now they were close enough that they could start to overhear what they were saying.
"…you know? It's like, my dad doesn't even care anymore that I'm 'wasting my life with the guitar' now that he knows."
"That's really rough, Frankie," the other guy sighed, hands stuffed into his pockets. "Wish I could say I relate, except my dad's always been pretty good about it. My mom, too - though she struggled with it in the beginning. But I'm so aware of how rare that is, trust me."
Frankie sighed and leaned back against one of the trees, looking down toward his ironic bowling shoes. They worked well with his outfit, honestly, but Veronica tried to stay focused. "Why can't he just get off my back? About everything? Like, he's always asking me when I'll get back together with Maria - like, is he kidding? What about this is so hard for him to understand?"
"Not everything is going to be something a straight guy can understand. I mean… my dad's supportive, but it doesn't mean he automatically gets me all the time."
"Yeah, I know. And Latinos are worse than most white guys - trust me. Still, would be pretty great if he would just listen, instead of yelling."
Just as Veronica's brow began to furrow, and she heard Ginger breathe "Ohhh," she saw the blonde put his arm around Frankie's shoulders to comfort him. "I know, I'm sorry. You know me and the group are here for you, though, okay? If he goes super right-wing, we'll find a place for you. I promise."
"Yeah…" He let out a shaky breath and summoned a small smile. "Thanks, Kevin. Honestly, the way crap has been lately… I don't know what I'd do without you."
That sinking feeling that had begun to settle into the pit of Veronica's stomach only quadrupled in size when she saw Kevin lean in and plant a kiss on Frankie's lips. Right on the lips. No boys she had ever known felt that casual with face-kisses; even most of the girls she knew would blush a little at a peck on the cheek from another girl, at least. The guys would punch another guy out. And here they had actually gone for it, in the middle of the park! Was this reality?
After she rubbed her eyes, she looked up to see that they were still going. Frankie had stood a little taller and turned into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Kevin as hands cupped his face, drawing him in closer still. This was really happening right in front of her eyes, and she found her heart was pounding so loud in her throat. As stunned as she was, shame gnawed at her gut - this was so crazy to see two guys doing this, and she shouldn't be seeing it. This wasn't her sinful moment to witness, she should get out of there!
The problem was, when she tried to back up, she backed right into Ginger. She heard a slight "Hrrk!" and saw her hands shoot out to either side, trying to brace against the branches of the bush - with no success. There was a slight rustling before Ginger gave up and just grabbed Veronica by the waist to hold both of their bodies as still as she could, both of them holding their breath.
"What was that?" Kevin hissed.
"Huh?" Frankie panted, very out of breath. Which sent a little thrill shooting into Veronica's stomach, thinking about how hot and heavy the two guys had been getting, but she tried to keep from moving or reacting too much. "I… what was what?"
"Nothing, nothing," Kevin whispered, still glancing around slightly but clearly ready to let it go at this point. They didn't exactly want to get caught making out in Pickens Park, but it was just Riverdale; they would be fine. Nothing truly heinous ever happened in their wholesome little burg. "Sorry, I just thought I heard someone coming."
"Y-yeah, I don't… maybe we should get out of here. I don't wanna get either of us caught."
"Well, I don't wanna get you caught," he told Frankie gently. "I'm out and proud, but I'd never push you out of the closet that way before you're ready."
Frankie sighed and smiled up at him, caressing up and down along his back. "Hey, thanks, Keller. I'm… I know, I know, I'm awkward about this still. I'm working on it."
"Take all the time you need. Nobody’s rushing you, I promise."
As they started making out again, Veronica silently cursed her luck. For a moment, she had been hoping that they would get a little too spooked by the idea of fraternizing in such a public space - so they would leave, and she and Ginger could climb out of the shrubbery without getting caught spying on them. As it stood, the two of them would have to hunker down a little while longer.
Which brought her to something else she had begun noticing. At first, she had been telling herself that she was way too freaked out by watching two boys make out when she had never seen anything like that in person before. But a little at a time, as they attempted to stay as still as possible and keep hidden, and kept watching Kevin and Frankie make moves on each other that would have been verboten just a decade or two ago…
'What is that?' Veronica thought to herself, wrestling with a panic that had begun brewing in the pit of her stomach. 'Do Ginger’s leggings have pockets? They have to have pockets. Maybe she has a wallet or something, or a candy bar? Or a lighter… or a roll of quarters…'
As she heard Ginger gulping hard and breathing harder, fingers twitching as they still held onto Veronica's waist, she knew those excuses were less and less likely. It wasn't any cigarette lighter she had ever seen. Or rather, felt pressing right against her backside - and pulsing occasionally the way it was.
'Oh my God. GINGER?!'
Even while she was trying to figure out how to feel about whatever the hell she would call this particular situation, there was a little moan from Frankie that diverted both of their attention. He and Kevin definitely weren't messing around now - their hands were roaming all over their chests and backs, their behinds, through each other's hair. She had never seen any straight couple as lost in passion as those two boys; maybe equally, but not moreso. Beneath her lingering shock that Frankie was gay and so was this new boy she had been vaguely interested in, and that something was going on with Ginger that she really needed to figure out soon, it was honestly rather touching that they were this enamored of each other.
This went on for nearly five minutes before they heard someone coming up the path, whistling casually. Frankie and Kevin broke apart, panting and fixing their hair - and Kevin tucking in his once-crisp dress shirt. Veronica could see a couple of telltale bulges that spoke to just how into their little tryst the boys had grown over its course. Then they tried to look as casual as possible.
It wasn't even anyone who mattered. Just Jughead. But when he came up to both of them, the space cadet waved and said, "Oh, hey, Frankie, hey… Kevin, right?"
How did Jughead know Kevin before Veronica or Ginger had a chance to meet him?! But Kevin was already saying, "Hey, it was… Jake?"
"Jughead," Frankie said with a nervous laugh as they all shook hands. "Sorry, we were, uh… nevermind."
"Oh, no, I get it," Jughead said with a slight grimace. "You got nothing to apologize for; it's nothing worse than I've seen just walking between cars at the drive-in theater, or the bathrooms at the mall. Rather not see any of them, either, but…"
"Yeah?" Kevin asked with a relieved smile. "Even though we're guys? I mean, I know I saw you at the-"
"Doesn't matter to me either way, compadre. Not any more interested in that than I am in girls and guys, or two girls, or two non-binary horndogs. But call me for any french fry-nacho cheese-chili threesome; that I wanna know about."
While Kevin was still just blinking, Frankie laughed and pounded the spindly boy on the back. "That's our Jug; totally foodsexual."
"Just the food, none of the sexual," Jug snorted. "Anyway, I can leave you guys to it."
"Nah, it's cool," Kevin said with a sigh and an easy smile. "Uhh, maybe we can all hit Pop's? This park's probably a bad place for, uh… for this, anyway."
"There are worse places," Jug went on as they started walking again. "You could have been making out on Weatherbee's desk; that would be decidedly insane."
"Right?!" Frankie cackled as their voices faded from sight. And now that they didn't have that excuse anymore…
"Ginger?"
"Just… just stay quiet a second longer," the other girl whispered as she trembled against Veronica's back. That firm little presence was still right where it had always been; Veronica had known it was there all along, had never once forgotten about it while listening to the boys' conversation.
"Ginger, what's… what are you…" Veronica had been about to ask something very accusatory, and she almost felt like it was justified. But Ginger was her friend, and she didn't want to hurt her any more than was strictly necessary. "I-is… am I… what you… need?"
Immediately after she asked that, they both looked at each other, blushing bright red. Then Ginger gently withdrew, keeping her movements gentle and tentative. Veronica looked down-
"Sorry," she whispered as she slapped her hand over her eyes. "I d-didn't mean to see it. I didn't mean to look."
"I didn't mean for you to feel it," the other girl hissed back, her voice trembling. "Ay, Veronica, lo siento - I… I know it must really seem like I was trying to-"
"Ginger, I just… I don't… what is happening? I'm trying not to freak out…"
The other girl took a deep breath and let it out with a shaky whine. She could tell Ginger was trying not to cry - which made her open her eyes again to look at her and make sure she was okay. Of course, she wound up looking at her hips again - and there was the little protrusion she had been trying to tell herself was her imagination. She could just see Ginger trying to draw her hips a little further backward before she forced her eyes up to her panicked face.
"You, um, you might not get this, but I can try to explain. Do you… already know what trans people are? Or is that new?"
"I, uh…" Veronica shrugged as she rubbed her palms against her skirt. "I've heard things, I don't know. Celebrities - Caitlyn, Laverne… whatever. I never really thought that hard about it. I-is that… what's going on here? Because if it is, that's cool! I'm just… I guess because we were… in the bush…"
Ginger held up her perfectly-manicured hands. "Th-that wasn't you! I mean, you are one of the hottest girls in school, Ricachóna, but I'm not… really… I mean, I kinda think girls are cute sometimes, but wouldn't date one, tu se? Just to look at." She allowed herself a chagrined little smile. "Maybe to watch porn of - but don't quote me on that one."
"O-oh," Veronica breathed, flushing even deeper - and trying not to acknowledge how the idea made her feel. Which was all kinds of ways. "So… being pushed up against me like that…"
"No, it was… the boys," she confessed, just as beet red as Veronica by now. "Watching them go crazy on each other like that? Mucho caliente en mi pantalones, like, for real. I've never seen two guys go at it like that anywhere besides the internet!"
"Me, either! Wait - no, I don't look at porn," Veronica laughed anxiously, and Ginger chuckled with her. "Well… I, uh… okay, I have a lot of questions, girl. Like, so many - but I guess I get that watching them would get you as steamed as me, if you like guys, too."
Ginger's smile was very patient as she flapped at her peasant top to circulate some air and cool herself off. At long last, Veronica could tell her "issue" was starting to fade, too, now that the situation was less intense. "I do like guys. I mean, I can't act like your bootycheeks pushed right up against me felt 'bad' or anything, but I'm not into you like that. I've just never been wrapped around someone's body while watching a couple of beefcakes grind on each other."
"Right?! I mean, I'm kinda ticked off that a guy as cute as Kevin is gay, though!"
"Me, too! Like, I wouldn't have followed you this long if I wasn't thinking about swiping him out from under your nose."
"Wha- HEY!" But when Ginger snickered, she couldn't help her own rueful smile. "Yeah, well, I can't blame you when I would have done the same thing."
"Yeah, yeah. Now, so you'll stop looking down at my junk, why don't you go ahead and ask your questions?"
Veronica closed her eyes tight, embarrassed that she couldn't control that impulse. But when she felt Ginger's hand on her shoulder, she found herself relaxing a little more, and opening them again - which only made her more confused. Maybe she kind of liked having her that close.
Wait, what?
"You're trans," she said, just to get herself talking instead of thinking. When Ginger smirked, she tried again, "I don't… that means you were born a guy, and now you're… but you have- I'm sorry. I'm really flustered, and this is coming out so ignorant."
"I've always been a girl, I just didn't know," Ginger said in a very rehearsed tone. Veronica was suddenly struck with the thought that she had probably had no choice but to go through this whole spiel time and time again with various friends and family. "I came out to my sisters first, and then my parents; they tried to argue for a while but eventually accepted me. So they put me on hormone treatments so I could look the way I feel inside already. But I always liked looking at dolls and their clothes, and what pop stars and actors were wearing on TV - and that was my dream. To look like them, and to design what they were wearing. I could have done the last part, either way, but both are right for me."
"Well… you could have been a drag queen," Veronica said with a small smile as she tried to control her bodily reactions. It wasn't going too well. "But if this is you, Ginger, I mean… I don't know the right words, I've never really…" At this point, Veronica decided to stop second-guessing her words and just go for it; this wasn't going to go anywhere otherwise. "I know nothing about any of this, I've always just been straight and had straight friends. But I've also never had anything against people like you; I'm just learning. Is that… are we good?"
That finally made Ginger grin and nod at her. "We're good, girl. I promise. I never thought we weren't; I just… y'know. People look at me differently when they find out, and I hate it. And that's without them having to feel my little boner on their ass!" When Veronica gulped, she squinted at her for a second. "And you don't gotta explain why it got to you so bad. You're straight, right? I'm no boy but it's still a dick."
That only made Veronica blush a lot brighter. "Y-you don't have to tell me that! I know I'm straight!" Which only made Ginger squint more. Wasn't there an escape hatch to take her away from this nonsense?! "I… I've never really…"
"What?"
"I've never felt one of those… so close to…"
"Oh." Ginger's smile disappeared, and she gulped. "Get the fuck outta here. Ricachóna, you're- all that running around and getting into trouble at Pembrooke, and you never…?" When Veronica just hunched her shoulders, she whistled. "Okay. No me importa - doesn't bother me. But like, now I feel a little worse that we ended up in that situation. Not on purpose, but…"
"No, no, I know. Like, at the time, I thought maybe…" Veronica shook her head a little firmer. "I know it just kinda happened, nobody's to blame. Except maybe me, for insisting we stalk Kevin to find out his deal in the first place."
"We definitely found out his deal," Ginger muttered, and Veronica couldn't help laughing. Then they both smiled at each other. "So you're alright, you promise? I don't wanna be out at Riverdale High - I don't want you to hate me. I don't want this to change anything, but right now…"
"I can keep a secret," Veronica reassured her. "And this is one I'll keep. You're safe."
"Okay," she sighed in relief as they started heading out of the park at long last. "And again, sorry my stupid little pinga had to be the first one you felt that close to your… well, anyway, I kinda doubt we'll end up in a crazy situation like that again, anyway."
"We'd better not. Like, next time, hide next to me in the bush!"
"But I was hiding behind you, and you backed us into- you know what? Nevermind, tonta, I don't need this."
Ginger pretended to walk away in a huff, making Veronica laugh and chase her down, hooking their arms together. Like she would have with any of her other girlfriends; that was all Ginger was before now, after all. She was just a slightly different variety of girl that she had never known before.
However, even as their conversation turned back to Archie and Cheryl, and how hopeless Veronica's plight was now that she knew her feminine wiles would have zero effect on Kevin, the rich girl found herself worrying about something she had never had to consider before. That rigid little bump in the front of Ginger's leggings had been an accident, on both their parts - but she certainly hadn't hated it. That alone was fine. Ginger had explained it pretty well, in fact: it was still a penis, and she was still a virgin who had very limited experience with those. The problem was…
It hadn't just been that little bump. Once she recognized it for what it was, her already-awakened body had also registered how light and enticing Ginger's perfume was, the presence of her soft breasts against her back - and she would have to remember to ask her some other time where she got those done, now that she knew they weren't organic. The hands on her hips, as delicate and feminine as they were, still were instrumental in fanning the flames of her state of arousal. And if that were true…
Then maybe both of them reassuring Veronica that she was "straight as an arrow" hadn't been entirely accurate. Or honest. Which was literally the last thing the poor little rich girl needed in her already-complicated life.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Whoops! Nano got me out of the habit of posting regularly, and then... I just... stayed out of that habit, lol. But happy Boxing Day, everyone!
CHAPTER FIVE
"Wait! Pray wait for me, Prince Harrington!"
Maiden Clarissa stumbled to a stop, bracing her hands against her knees as her breathing came in ragged gasps. All was lost. Her fair prince had raced off into the woods, forsaking her steadfast devotion in favour of the wicked sorceress's wiles. She knew it was not his fault; he was pure of heart and valiant, and had slain many a beast in Clarissa's name. Now, however, she feared he might be lost forever.
And so went her heart. Without Harrington's strong, broad shoulders upon which to perch her hands, she felt as if there were no purpose to her life - no goal for which to strive. There was only one recourse for her to undertake, in the hopes it would save her from the fate of a lonely life.
Queen Ophelia's chambers were cold and forbidding as she crept her way inside. The queen's heart was just as cold, as her sleek black hair and deep violet dress also gave such an impression. Her features changed not at all as Clarissa approached and knelt before her.
"What need you, wench?"
"I… I am but a humble wench," she agreed, trying in vain to keep her tone steady. "But it is you who I think will help me. I… I am aware of your designs on Prince Harrington of the Sapphire Kingdom."
"As are all. Including you, Clarissa Dungsmith. Yes, I know of you," she shot nastily at the girl, folding her arms artfully over her bodice. "Why do you darken my doorstep, peasant? To gloat? I am well aware you have turned the prince's head, and drawn him away from my wooing."
"I have done nothing," she lied - though it was scarcely a lie, when all was said and done. "Only returned his affections when they were given; I did not seek to lure him from your side. this I swear."
"Hmm. I believe you."
"Do you? Verily?"
"Verily so. Walk with me." The queen rose and walked with her regal gait down the few steps from her dais, her sparkling violet heels matching her dress exactly. "It has also reached my ears that your hold on Harrington has… loosened. Another has usurped you."
"The wicked sorceress, Thornitia," Clarissa breathed.
"That very one, yes. However, do you honestly expect for me to capture him back, only to thrust him into your arms?"
Her head dipped in deference to the queen's station. "If it please you, no. I had hoped we would bring him back from her clutches, and give his heart back to him. What he does with it henceforth will be his choice."
"Ahhh, but that doesn't serve my purposes, wench. For I know he will only run to you. Despite my young age, I am a queen, and a political rival - and I wield true power within this realm. You, fair and flaxen-haired, and with a heart as pure as his… and no station of your own with which to challenge his… he will choose you over me each and every time."
"That is not the reason," Clarissa breathed, her brow furrowing as her heart sank. "I… the prince and I-"
"If it were 'true love', the sorceress could not sway him," Ophelia rebutted before the pauper could even finish. "He is a knave and a fool. And I am too cold and too challenging for him to ever choose me over you, despite my station and riches."
"Milady, if it please you, I don't see you that way at all."
"Don't you?" she snorted bitterly.
"I do not. You are strong in your convictions, and fairer than I, and passionate. And when you are unyielding, it is like a steel blade - tempered by the heat and violence of a difficult rule. I may wish to court Harrintgon because I believe it to be our destiny, but not because you are unworthy in any way - not at all!"
Ophelia came to a stop in front of a large stained glass window, turning to gaze evenly at her unwelcome guest. Clarissa tried to listen to her next words, instead of the thundering of her heart in her throat; she felt fearful the queen might turn on her at any moment, and throw her bodily into the dungeons. Or worse.
"Your flattery is not necessary. I will retrieve Harrington because it is what is right and proper, and because the sorceress must be stopped - and for no other reason."
"And that is why it is not flattery," Clarissa insisted, imbuing her voice with all the strength she had left. "Because you are as good as I have said - far better than I. All I command is naivety and… and empty dreams of a future that can never be. Harrington will choose you when he realizes his family would never accept an uneducated waif."
"Waif, perhaps. But not uneducated; you speak as a learned woman speaks, Rissa."
"I… oh." She couldn't help feeling embarrassed at the sudden usage of such a nickname, and the familiarity the queen granted her that she did not deserve. "I've… listened to the sermons in the square, and read what books I can find cast off. Nothing such as you must have."
"Perhaps more laudable, because you had to fight for each advantage that much harder."
"Your Majesty… I hadn't realized you thought so highly of me. Especially when you greeted me as 'wench' today."
"You are a tavern wench, are you not?" the regal woman shot at her. "But I have been observing your advances toward the prince, ready to assail your character for underhandedness… and observed no such transgressions. Your behaviour is spotless - and that much more frustrating for me to watch for it. Curse your pure heart, Clarissa."
Before Clarissa had time to draw in another breath, the dark queen's hand was raising to rest upon the side of her neck - and this was no threatening grasp. Her touch was so tender that her heart stopped beating in her chest as she gazed up into Ophelia's eyes, mystified by the interest she noticed there. Did the queen want to learn more about her, to better understand her enemy?
"Your Majesty…"
"Call me 'Ophelia', when we are alone. If it please you." The raven-haired monarch smirked as she caressed her thumb along Clarissa's lips, sending shivers along her spine. "Does it please?"
"It does," she found herself confessing quietly as their faces drew closer, and closer still… until the space between them was no more.
She had not expected Ophelia's lips to be so warm and soft as they were. Then again, she had ever expected to partake of them - had never anticipated this turn of events. She tilted her head to better welcome the kiss, and found the queen was only too ready to oblige, kneading their mouths together as their hands began to explore each other's backs, their necks.
Clarissa's heart raced as she felt one of Ophelia's hands begin to drift yet lower, past her waistline and down to her-
~ o ~
CLUNK.
"AH!" Betty yelped as she pulled her hands back from her laptop keyboard, glancing around wildly. At last, she registered the buzzing from the floor. Rolling her chair back, she stooped down and reached for her phone that had vibrated its way right across her desk until it took a swan dive. It took her four tries to hastily answer, but at least she managed before it went to voicemail.
"Hello?!"
"Girl, what is going on? Normally I don't have to call you three times before you pick up!"
Sighing with relief, Betty sagged lower in her chair as the video finally resolved, showing a slightly-pixelated feed of her friend. "Hey, Nancy."
"'Hey' yourself. What's going on? Not a date with that Freckles again."
"No, no way. I don't even think he knows I'm alive."
Nancy let out a low whistle as trees went past her head. She was out, apparently. "Mmm, yeah… that's kinda why I've been trying you so much. I was worried after he passed you over for that new girl again at practice. You barely stopped to talk to Midge; she said you were really upset, but wouldn't tell her why."
"Because… because Archie, obviously," she lied, and immediately felt guilty. More than anything, she just didn't want to get into it. "And Cheryl." There; now she had technically told the truth.
"Aww, Bets, come on. That chucklehead ain't worth it - how many times have we talked about this? He's like a fox let loose in a hen house; can't pick which one to pounce on, so he's gonna keep getting distracted. You can do better."
"I know, I know," she sighed as she turned and stood, moving toward her bed. "But I can't help who I like." That had a twofold meaning now that she really wished it didn't.
Nancy suddenly grinned. "Hey, was that the novel? Come on, how long do I have to beg to read some?"
"Wha-" Belatedly, she realized her camera must have caught her laptop screen for a second. "Uhhh, never!" When Nancy glared, she amended, "Okay, okay, but let me get the full rough draft finished, at least. I can't let anybody see anything until it's at least kinda done."
"Hmm… alright, that's fair. I wouldn't want anyone seeing one of my paintings when it's just a few blobs of paint, or a pencil outline."
"Yeah, you get it." She grunted as she flopped down on the bed on her belly, seeing her own purple socks appearing over her head in the self-camera as she crossed her ankles. "So, where are you going, anyway?"
"What? Oh… yeah, I'm going to see the Pussycats again. But there's this new band opening for them - local girls. I'm pretty hype to check them out more than anything."
"Uh huh. You sure you don't just have a crush on Mallory? Or was it Valerie?"
"It's Melody," Nancy said with a wry smirk. "And I don't have a crush on her or Valerie, okay? They're both cool but I'm not playing for the softball team."
"Hey," Betty pouted.
"Right! Sorry, I forgot you legit play softball." Nancy had clearly winced when she remembered. "Anyway, you can come out if you don't have more writing to do, or homework or whatever."
"Well, I'm…" Betty barely glanced over at her screen, where her hands had manifested minds of their own and written some very damning evidence that Tomoko wasn't entirely off the mark. "Sure, that actually sounds pretty fun. Maybe I need a break, anyway."
"YAAAS! Meet me at the Bijou, then - I'm gonna go see if I can meet the Pussycats. Wouldn't that be crazy?"
"They're just from Midvale, it's not that crazy!"
"Whatever! Text me when you're here, Bets!"
Which left Betty with no recourse but to sigh, roll her eyes, and head for her closet to find something that wouldn't look completely stupid at a concert. At least it was better than obsessing over what had just emerged from her fingertips.
~ o ~
Not that poor Betty succeeded. With her outfit, yes; she found some slightly ripped jeans and one of her dad's old Thompson Twins shirts that she could tie up, and finished it off with blue-accented Chucks. But as for not obsessing…
"Why did it take that turn? There wasn’t supposed to be some kind of sapphic twist - Ophelia was totally supposed to throw Clarissa in the dungeon!" she hissed at herself as she circled the venue, looking for parking. The Bijou was an old theater that had fallen into disrepair once the big megaplex was built onto the Riverdale Mall, but it had been rescued and turned into a concert and event space by Veronica's mother, Hermione. At first, she had been a little resistant to bands playing there, but wanting to provide a place for budding artists to cut their teeth outweighed her hesitance; Riverdale teens were generally well-behaved enough.
The problem was, kids from Southside and from neighboring Centerville weren't quite as respectful. But the bouncers kept things in line well enough.
"You're not gay," she hissed as she finally parallel parked between two other cars about a block over. "Betty Cooper, you are overreacting to Cheryl's little mindgame, and Tomoko's nonsense; you're just fine! You're a normal, healthy, heterosexual teenage girl - you're not into girls!"
But as she turned off the engine, she frowned and added, "Well, not that there would be anything wrong with that. Girls can like girls, boys can like boys. And sometimes, it seems like it would be a lot easier to like a girl; boys can be so dense sometimes. Plus, they're softer, and smell nicer, and…"
Suddenly hearing herself, she reached up to slap herself on the cheeks a few times before she shook her head out. "Enough. Showtime."
There were a few kids hanging around outside the Bijou, and a few were even smoking. Most of them were out-of-towners, but she did spot Chuck, Nancy's boyfriend, hitting a vape. Slightly better, but not much in her book.
"Hey, Betty," he said as she came close - and blew the vapor over his shoulder before stowing it. Polite enough to not make her breathe it in, at least. "What's up? Didn't expect you to come out."
"Well, your girl badgered me into it," she said with a good-natured smile, adjusting her phone and keys. The phone was sticking up and out, because girl-pockets, but she had everything as in order as she could.
"She's good at that," he laughed. "She's already inside, but told me to keep an eye out for you, just in case. Opening act is still setting up."
"Cool. Um… so…"
"The vape," he sighed, and Betty flushed with embarrassment. But Chuck just shook his head. "No, it's okay. It's just CBD."
"CBD? Isn't that, like… pot?" Chuck laughed, and she flushed even darker. "Well, I've never done anything like that…"
"It's more like… you know how grape juice has the same antioxidants as red wine, but can't get you drunk?" She nodded, and he pulled the vape back out to show her. "That's what CBD is like; helps relax you and has some other health benefits, but doesn't get you high. You can try it, if you want."
"N-no thanks. But I trust you!" she quickly reassured him. "I'm just, um, I just haven't tried it and I would want to talk to my doctor first."
Chuck's eyebrows rose, but all he said was, "All good, Cooper. I promise, I wouldn't be pushy about it. Anyway, we can head in if you're ready; ticket's ten. I can cover you if-"
"I got it," she said with a small smile as she popped off her phone case to get at the little card holder inside. "But I really appreciate that, Clayton."
The woman at the ticket window made things quick and easy, and the two of them joined the throng. Not many people were in the lobby - but they were all around the merch table, thinking about Josie shirts or hoodies, or the old-school cassettes they sold. They made their way past into the auditorium, where a couple hundred bodies were packed in, all talking and bouncing excitedly.
"Where's Nancy?" she asked him over the rising voices.
"Working," he said, pointing at where they could just barely see her afro puffs over the heads of a few other students. Someone moved and Betty could just barely see her profile behind her professional camera as she took a shot of the empty stage, framing the kick drum with the Pussycats logo in the center.
"Oh yeah, I guess she would be… the Blue And Gold could use more than just a write-up." She frowned. "I should probably be taking notes for an article; I'm slipping. Got a lot on my-"
"JERK!"
Chuck grunted when he felt Archie and Moose dogpiling on his back, then laughed as he pushed back. "You're the jerks! I'm minding my own business!"
"And that's why you're the jerk!" Archie laughed, clearly not at all serious. "We've been looking for you - did Jug and Reg get here yet?"
"I thought Jug would be with you," Betty said with a smile, subconsciously arching her back to make her modest chest jut forward more. Anything to catch his attention.
"Hey, Betty," he said amiably enough. "Nah, he said something about finishing an episode of Doctor Who. Should be here after a while. Who, uh… who are you here with?"
"Oh, nobody," she admitted, even before she could think to come up with an excuse.
"Nice. I mean, uh… not nice that you're not here with-"
Before Archie could even finish his sentence, Reggie sailed in and got Archie in a headlock, both boys laughing. Maybe it was best if she switched teams - at least she could stop wasting time trying to figure out why men do things like that.
And they were gone a moment later, off to concessions. Betty tried to push through to Nancy's side, but the opening act took the stage just then - and all the kids pushed in closer, making it harder for her to move through the throng. So instead, she sighed and focused on the show.
"Helloooo, Riverdale!" cried out a blonde girl with very short pigtails and a guitar. She looked like a reject from a 90s grunge documentary, with a green flannel over her black babydoll tee and ripped red jeans. "We're, uh… 'Detritus'? For now! Anyway, let's rock!"
The next thirty minutes was basically nothing but noise. Betty tried to smile and clap politely, and looking around, she could tell that was the general consensus; nobody was feeling Detritus. In fact, though most of the Riverdale attendees stayed where they were at, even if unenthusiastic, anybody from out of town took that opportunity to go hit the bathroom or get snacks or drinks. It almost made Betty wish she was old enough to get something stronger to drink - or to reconsider using Chuck's vape. Not that she really would, but she was more tempted than she expected to be.
Without any actual decent music to listen to, she found herself focusing on the band itself. They all seemed to be a bit younger - and she thought she had seen the lead singer around the halls of Riverdale High before. Definitely an underclassman. The drummer had dyed red hair instead of natural, and was quite buff, probably from all the drum practice. Then there was…
For some reason, she had the distinct impression that the blue-haired punker chick was looking at her every time she glanced her way. Not that her fingers ever played a single wrong note on the bass the entire time; even though Betty was no music virtuoso, she knew her way around guitars well enough to tell this girl was the one pulling the weight in this band. The other two were just messing around.
The only thing that really could have topped their performance so far was the squeal of feedback in the lead singer's microphone - which they all got once they wrapped up their final song, and she grabbed it to yell, "YEAHHHH! Thanks, Riverdale - and give it up for the Pussycats, they're on next! Buy our demo tape at the table out there! Goodnight!"
The cheering was most likely from relief. The trio quickly began dismantling their equipment, even though the drum set was just the Pussycats' drums. She could tell the ginger and the punker looked very underwhelmed and tired, but the lukewarm reception didn't seem to put even the slightest dent in the blonde’s enthusiasm. Then they jumped down the steps on the side of the stage and headed out toward the merch table.
Betty followed. Partly, it was because she hadn't even had so much as a chance to say hi to Nancy, and the boys were all busy hanging around with each other. But she also felt sorry for Detritus, and thought maybe they could use a kind word.
"Oh, hey!" the blonde said immediately. She was so short but seemed to have more energy than her two friends combined. "Did you like the show?!"
"It was, um, great!" Betty had never been a very good liar, even though her need to make people feel good about themselves usually trumped her guilt about lying. "You guys had so much raw energy, it was really intense!"
That made her grin from ear to ear, hands on her hips as the redhead just sort of lingered in a chair behind her. Their third member was nowhere to be seen. "NICE! That was exactly what we were going for - nothing but ROCK!"
"I still say we should at least try to learn how to play a little bit better before-"
"Shush, Danni - not in front of a customer!" She quickly turned back with a polite smile, gesturing to the cassette tapes. They were clearly homemade, the simple cover art of an anarchy symbol above the word "Detritus" done in MSPaint and produced on one of their moms' printer. "They're only five bucks! We were asking ten, but nobody's been taking them - they don't know what they're missing. We have some real bangers on there."
"Jinx…" When the blonde only waggled her eyebrows at Betty, her friend sighed and sat a little further forward. "They don't want it because it's bad, and we're bad."
When the one whose real name may or may not have been "Jinx" pouted, Betty made the decision to get out her card again. "Hey, I'll take one."
"Really?!" the girl gasped in complete shock.
"Sure! I can tell you… have a lot of potential. And it might be cool to have someday when you're big and famous."
Even while Jinx was literally vibrating, Danni flashed her an awkward smile. "Uhhh, we don't have anything that can take that card…"
"I have some money," she offered, holding up the neatly folded twenty she kept behind her cards for emergencies.
"Uhhh… unless you want four of these, we can't make change… do you have Venmo?"
Betty smiled as she tried not to feel embarrassed. Her friends were always calling her a throwback, because she was so behind the times. Her parents just didn't believe in all that modern stuff, and made it a point to discourage her from even getting an Instagram account, much less anything else. "Can… you walk me through it?"
Danni was patient while explaining how to set up an account. She seemed depressed at how bad the show went, but was otherwise a very kind, warm individual. She had a very different energy from anyone Betty had ever met before.
And she figured out why once they had set up their accounts. Instantly, the name "Daniel Malloy" came up - and a picture of Danni with slightly shorter, browner hair, and no makeup. It was only from a few years ago, but there was a pretty distinct difference from then to now.
"What's wrong? Second thoughts?"
That was the only prompting Betty needed to put aside her surprise at what she had just discovered. She smiled and said, "Nope!" as she quickly entered a five and sent the payment. "There you go! Gotchu, girl!"
As awkward as her attempt to be cool had been, it seemed to ease the brief flare of anxiety she had seen on Danni's face. "Cool. Okay… yep, there it is."
"Here's your tape!" Jinx chirruped immediately, holding it up.
"Can I get it autographed?" Betty replied without really thinking about it - then blinked when she saw the other two had frozen in place. "What? Is… is that weird? I'm sorry, I didn't-"
"You… you actually want my autograph?" Jinx breathed hard through her nostrils a few times before half-screeching, "OMIGOD. This is like, our first groupie. Hooooly shit. What's… do I have an autograph?!"
"Just sign your name like you normally would," Danni said with a slightly higher register to her voice. Which Betty had now realized was a little deeper than most girls' - but she was now trying to un- notice things like that. She felt like she had learned something that was none of her business, and the guilt was probably what prompted her to ask for autographs in the first place.
"O-okay, I… okay, it's chill, I'm chill. I have a Sharpie! Hold on-"
The pigtailed blonde pulled out a Sharpie, which was still in its paper-with-plastic-bubble packaging, and shredded it open. Betty had to try hard not to laugh. The girl was blushing a little by the time she pulled out the paper insert, practiced signing her name a few times in the air, then just went for it. She let out a sigh of relief as she passed the marker to Danni, who just laughed at her as she did the same a lot more calmly.
"Cool, thank you! This is really great!"
As Betty started to reach for the tape, Jinx piped up, "Wait, wait - hey, Jola! Come get in on this, we have an actual fan!"
Still trying not to feel too guilty for misleading the fledgling band in regards to her interest level, Betty turned with a polite smile - and her heart stopped. Standing inches away was the blue-haired punker, an easy smile on her lips. She was holding a clear plastic cup with what looked like Coke in it and seemed as if she had been there for quite a while, even though that wasn't possible; Betty would have noticed before now.
"Oh yeah? A real fan, huh?"
"Yeah!" Jinx said. Betty heard her distantly, because her eyes were busy taking in the sharp jawline and brooding hazel eyes, devilish smirk only growing. This close, she found herself reasonably certain this woman was a little older than her bandmates, though it wasn't easy to tell. "She wanted our autographs."
"Cool. Give it here." As Danni passed the tape and the marker over, Jola kept her eyes on Betty for a moment longer. "You were watching us pretty close, weren't you?"
Again, it was like a sixth sense was telling Betty that this girl actually meant she had been watching just her - which was correct, even if she didn't want to admit it was. "Yeah. I've never seen anything so intense."
Flashing one last smirk, the punker finally bent over the table, setting her drink down so she could sign the inside of the cassette insert. She shifted her hip slightly as she did so, and a flush crept up Betty's neck when she realized she had let it draw her eyes to how firm Jola's behind looked in those dark jeans. Even if it was only for a second, she still felt completely ashamed of herself, and very conflicted. Had she done it on purpose? Or was Betty just losing her mind?
"There. Thanks for coming out. I have to take off early, but… maybe I'll see you around Riverdale."
Betty took the cassette, which Jola had already closed up for her. "Um, yeah. Maybe I will. See you. Maybe I'll see all of you! Playing, or… or not."
"Yeah, of course!" Jinx said with a huge grin, fists perched on her hips. "Detritus is gonna be huge! You just wait!"
They all waved as Betty headed back in to see if she could find Nancy. At the very least, she was hoping to put an end to this awkward interaction. But when she looked back over her shoulder, even though the other two had gone back to talking amongst themselves, Jola's eyes were still on her. And they didn't leave her at all, up to the moment she was out of sight.
~ o ~
"Oh my God, they have never sounded tighter," Nancy gushed as they headed back to their cars. "Right? Like, I know they're just from Midvale, but they are going to be so all over Tik Tok soon!"
"Uh huh."
"Valerie's bass solo? Come ON, that was everything! And Melody got her own verse in that second-to-last song - I didn't even know she could sing, too!"
"Yeah, it was really great," Betty offered with a wider smile. "Thanks for inviting me out."
They walked in silence for a few seconds. Truth was, part of the reason was because Betty's ears were still ringing from being a little too close to the speakers, but that definitely wasn't most of the reason she was so distracted.
"What is it?"
"Huh?"
"Come on," Nancy needled her with a nudge from her elbow. "I know you're not this speechless from the Pussycats. This still about Cheryl?"
Grimacing at not being as hard to read as she had hoped, Betty shoved her hands in her pockets. "I-it's not about her, I promise. I'm just… all over the place."
Nancy nodded exaggeratedly, her puffs bouncing in the light breeze. "Suuuure. And I'm just some rando; don't bother explaining." When Betty didn't, she sighed. "I saw those muscle heads messing around and not even paying attention to you. Honestly, I'm not even shocked by Reg and Moose, but I expected better from those other two fools."
"It's fine," Betty said shortly. The truth was, she had forgotten all about the guys since that had happened, but being reminded of just how little Archie cared about her when all was said and done definitely didn't boost her morale.
"It's really not. Especially Chuck - I told him straight up that I would be busy snapping pics, he should have been looking out for-"
"Seriously, Nancy, I'm okay," she told her with a half smile as she stopped to reach out and put her hand on her friend's shoulder. Problem was, she almost dropped something that jumped out of her pocket in the process. "Oops - oh no-"
Though Betty had managed to snag the cassette out of the air before it hit the sidewalk, and was glad for that, unfortunately it was a little hard for her friend to miss. "What's that? I didn't know you picked up some merch. So are you a Pussycat convert, finally?!"
"What? Oh - I mean, hey, I've always liked them! But no, this is, um… that other band."
"Really?” Nancy's nose crinkled as her head drew back in mild surprise. "Uhhh… so you liked them, I guess? That's cool. They were definitely…"
Betty rolled her eyes. "They were terrible."
"Okay, I'm glad you said it." They both laughed. "But why would you buy some vintage ass tape from them if you didn't like them, either?"
Before Betty could stop her, Nancy had snatched it out of her hand to inspect it. And since she didn't have a good excuse to demand it back, she just swallowed hard and tried to explain. "W-well, I guess you could say it was a pity purchase? Like, those girls were trying so hard, I could tell. And nobody was at their table, and…"
"Wait… what's a Jolek?"
Baffled, she leaned over to see what Nancy was talking about. Sure enough, the name scribbled on the inside of the cassette insert was a little hard to read, and it did look like it could say "Jolek" as easily as anything. But there was something much more incriminating printed below the name - and completely legible.
Seven little numbers.
"Okay, girl," Nancy said with a rapidly growing grin as she swatted Betty's shoulder with the cassette. "This is why you've been so weird! Why didn't you tell me you got some guy's digits?"
But it was a little hard for Betty to respond while a panic attack was gripping her by the heart. She fought to control her breathing as she delicately reached out and took the cassette, folding it back together and putting it in her pocket as she pulled out her keys. Nancy laughed at her, understandably assuming she was just jittery about the prospect of going out with some new guy.
"Listen, I won't tell anybody. And if you're not into him, you don't gotta call him back, girl! Just lose that number!" Nancy tapped her chin. "Guess that's kinda hard to do when you bought the thing it's written on. Baller move on his part."
"Uhh, right. Baller. Hey, I think I'm really beat, Nancy - I'm gonna head home. Don't know why I'm so exhausted."
"Oh yeah? Aww…" Her friend pouted as she lingered near her own car, watching Betty move further down the sidewalk. "Hey, I was just messing with you. You know that, right?"
"No, no, I get it. Everything's fine! I'm just ready to go home. I'll see you on Monday, all right?"
Still looking a little let down, Nancy called back, "Alright, girl. I'm glad you came out! Mean it!"
"Thanks! Have a good night!"
Of course, Betty did not have a good one herself. The entire way back to her house, she was freaking out and questioning everything she knew to be true. There weren't a lot of reasons for Jola to leave her phone number below her autograph - and she was wholly terrified of what that reason could be.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
"Ahhh… much better."
Veronica Lodge had never known a shopping spree to fail to lift her spirits. The feeling of her arms laden down with a dozen or more shopping bags full of extravagant purchases was the most welcome ache in the world - even beyond a good workout, or twisting in a passenger seat to kiss some boy or other. She once again felt like everything would be fine, like all was right with the world.
What was the point in dwelling on her past at Pembrooke? She could have smacked both Cheryl and Tomoko across their smug faces for dredging up all that unnecessary baggage. But now that she had an ounce of perspective back, she found herself determined not to let them control her narrative. She was desperate to keep her past in the past, but she didn't feel nearly as powerless to do so as she did before.
"Oh hey, gorgeous. You get even more frames to put around that hot, work of art body of yours?"
Veronica rolled her eyes at the pathetic line. "And here I was actually starting to feel pretty good about my day. Thanks for ruining it, Mantle."
Reggie chuckled as he leaned one hip against the hood of her Benz, folding his arms over his barrel chest. He was every bit as handsome as he purported himself to be; the problem was that he was his own biggest fan. It got irritating immediately and only grew more so the more often he insisted everyone praise him for his looks.
Right about now, she would take the attention. It would definitely be a distraction.
"You say that like I'm not the best thing to happen to your day so far, gorgeous. Anyway, where's Freckles or Blondie? I normally don't see you without one or the other."
"They're both at practice for the football game. Why aren't you there? Aren't you part of the team?"
Reggie's laugh was the slightest bit chagrined. "Well, see… I got benched for a week for making a pass at Midge. I might have complimented the color of her underwear when she was on top of the pyramid."
"Oh, and that wasn't your fault, somehow?"
"Hey, it was a compliment! Can't a guy make an observation? They were pink with purple teddy bears - not the kind she normally has on!"
"And you somehow can't see that you knowing what type she normally has on is an issue?" He just shrugged, and she laughed and rolled her eyes. "Typical. I would bother telling you off, but I'm pretty sure Moose will take care of that for me."
That finally rattled him enough to run his hand through his black hair, but he tried to laugh it off. "I'm not scared of that big dumb ox. Anyway, what are you up to right now?"
"Nothing now. Just going to head home and put all my acquisitions away. Why?"
"Let me treat you to dinner. Nothing fancy, not a date," he headed her off as she squinted at him. "But not Pop's again, either. You want to hit up Tandoori House?"
The suggestion surprised Veronica. Indian food definitely sounded like a nice change of pace, and she had really thought Reggie would pull out all the stops and take her to some expensive French restaurant purely to impress her. He wasn't always a cad, apparently.
"Hmm… you know what? Why not?" Before he could jump up and down with glee, she held up her index finger. "Separate cars, no kissing, no getting handsy under the table. Got it?"
"Roger, Roger. What about footsy?" When she just scowled, he held up both hands in surrender. "No footsy, either. Sheesh."
~ o ~
Within minutes, they were both parking in adjoining spots at Tandoori House. Even just getting out of the car flooded Veronica's lungs with inviting scents of curry and spice, and she felt her mouth watering already.
In no time, they were seated and browsing the menu. Veronica had been there several times before, but not often enough to have the menu memorized; she was a lot more used to having Gaston prepare her whatever she wished in the comfort of her own home, up to and including Indian food - although the Patels definitely had him beat in that department.
"Oh, hey guys," their waitress said with a bright smile.
"Hey, Tina," Reggie said as he set his menu down and clapped his hands before rubbing them together. "What looks good today? Hook us up."
"Can't go wrong with the tikka masala. Naan is hot and fresh, too. What are you feeling?"
"Sounds good, gorgeous," he flattered their server. Veronica was pretty sure he never actually hit on Tina Patel at school, but given their forced conversation because she was waiting on them in her parents' restaurant, it was inevitable.
"I'll have the palak paneer," Veronica said as she side-eyed Reggie. "And some tandoori chicken, and naan bread - oh, and can I get two orders of butter chicken to go? For when I'm heading home."
"Gotcha," Tina said, hurrying to scribble everything down. "I'll have them put those in after I bring your food, so it's nice and hot when you leave. Anything else? Drinks?"
"Coffee."
"Western, or the good stuff?"
"What's the good stuff?" Reggie asked.
"Oooh, you guys have to try it," Tina said with a huge, excited grin. "A little milk and sugar and chicory, and only the best arabica beans, ground fresh daily. We let it percolate, mix it with the milk and sugar… filter kaapi is stronger, but you'll ascend, seriously."
"Well, I'll try it," Veronica said with a shrug. Reggie nodded as well.
"Cool." She lowered her voice to add, "I'm glad, since we have to sell what we grind and don't use at a discount. But seriously, it's so good."
"Okay, okay, we're convinced," Reggie laughed. "Let me get it nice and hot, Tina."
While Veronica was rolling her eyes again, Tina grinned and cocked a finger gun at him. "You got it!" Then she was off. And he was obviously checking out her figure, even beneath her traditional saree.
"Wow, I am out with an actual pig."
"What?" he said defensively, even though he was still smiling. "I'm here for a good time - it's not like we're married or anything. Lighten up. What's got stuck in your craw lately?"
Her lip curled as she stared at him across the table. "You haven't been paying attention, have you?"
By the time their orders arrived, Veronica was still ranting about Cheryl Blossom. And continued to do so as they make their way through the food and coffee - which was as incredible as advertised. They were almost finished by the time she finally came to a stop, running out of tidbits to divulge.
"…and I guess it just boils down to the fact that Betty and I don't need the competition. That's all."
"That's all, huh?" Reggie grumbled, still propping up his head as he leaned on one elbow. He had been in that position for the past five minutes.
"Uhhh… yes, that is all. Why are you being so blasé? Don't you see what a serious threat she poses to Riverdale High's fragile social ecosystem? She's going to have everybody jumping around, figuring out how we all fit together from now on!"
He shrugged his shoulders as he mopped up the last of his sauce with the last scrap of his naan. "Hey, as far as I'm concerned, this just means one more girl to pull Archie's focus away from you. Doesn't hurt me any."
Veronica flashed him a smarmy little smirk. "You say that as if you've ever been remotely serious about me."
"Moi?" he asked in a scandalized tone, pressing his hand to his chest. "Why, Veronica, I am shocked that you would besmirch my character in this fashion. Have I not sought out your feminine wiles with the utmost sincerity? Pray tell, when was I anything less than genuine?"
"About fifteen minutes ago, when you literally hit on Tina while I was sitting right here. Betty is the blonde one, not me; I have a long memory, and hold even longer grudges."
"Wow, okay, okay. Never pegged you for being this sensitive, Ronnie."
"I'm not sensitive," she protested hotly. "I'm… just… I don't have to justify myself to you. Bottom line is, the Blossoms have always been bad news - and I'm not going to trust this long lost daughter, or whoever the hell she is."
Reggie just let out a scoffing sound as Tina dropped off a plastic bag containing two aluminum pie tins, with posterboard circles covering the tops. "Fine, so you think she's the devil with a blue dress on. Or green, like she was wearing today. What are you gonna do about it? Run her out of town?"
"Hmm, no… that won't exactly work, I'm afraid. For top secret reasons." Veronica drummed her manicured fingernails on the table top thoughtfully, then suddenly snapped two of said fingers. "Aha!"
"AH!" Once he recovered from nearly falling out of his chair, Reggie demanded, "What's the matter with you?!"
"Nothing," the Lodge heir purred as she pressed her fingertips together, forming a steeple in front of her wicked grin. "Not anymore. I think I just need to go home and have a conversation with my father."
~ o ~
Which was exactly what she did with herself next. Lodge Manor lay just outside of Riverdale proper, on a lush estate between rolling green hills. This was no tacky McMansion; it was one of the nicest homes upstate, with dozens of rooms of all purposes, an outdoor and indoor pool, hot tub, greenhouse, tennis court, and garage capable of holding six cars, plus a separate one for the limo. Veronica had been lucky enough to never want for anything.
Who said she was an ungrateful spoiled brat? She certainly appreciated what she had - she just was of the "if you've got it, flaunt it" camp. Hiram Lodge was a self-made man, a titan of industry and a stock wizard, and made sure his family never had to worry about their next meal. Or their next entire wardrobe, for that matter.
After parking her Benz in the garage, she strutted up to the front door and handed off her bags to Smithers. All she said to him was, "Hey, do you know where Daddy is?"
Smithers didn't even miss a beat, as used to Veronica's behavior patterns as he was. "In the study, Miss Lodge. Shall I put your purchases away for you?"
"That won't be necessary; just leave them on the bed and I'll go through them myself later. Thanks." Then she waved at the butler before skipping off to the study.
The silver-haired tycoon was seated in his plush leather armchair, puffing away at his pipe and browsing the Wall Street Journal. Veronica couldn't count the number of times she had walked in on him looking exactly like this - though it probably numbered in the thousands. Her mother had gotten him to agree to stop smoking the pipe several times a day, but for now, he was still holding onto having this reflective time with his old habit at least once per day. Veronica wasn't about to judge, even though privately, she wished he would quit, as well.
"Hey, Daddykins," she sang out as she pranced over the floor to his side.
"What do you want, Veronica?" he asked without even looking up.
Trying not to be perturbed by him seeing through her would-be disarming tactic, she folded her arms over one corner of his chairback. "Awww, can't I just spend some time with the best Daddy in…" When he squinted up at her, she sighed. "Okay, okay, but you could have let me be loving for a moment."
"And you could be loving without an ulterior motive, hmm? Now, what does my princess want? Another Bentley? We agreed after the last one that it's for the best if-"
"We don't have to bring that up again," she laughed anxiously. "Ever. No, nothing like that; I bought a few things today but nothing crazy, and I don't need anything else. At the moment," she added as an afterthought.
"Then…?"
"Well… alright, so…" She wanted to phrase this delicately. "You know… I've worked very hard to make you and Mom proud of me over the past two years. I've really changed."
"Have you?" he murmured. When she frowned, he snorted and turned a page in his newspaper. "Alright, so you have; we've noticed. Aside from a few of your more egregious shopping sprees, your pattern of behavior has vastly improved. Do you think you deserve a prize?"
"Actually, it's more about protecting my reputation. So there's a new Blossom I've never heard of before…"
Veronica did her best to leave nothing out. By the time she had told her father as much as she could think to mention, carefully leaving out that it was the way Archie was head over heels for the other redhead that bothered her the most, she was sitting in the other chair next to him that her mother would normally have claimed.
"…and I still have no idea how I never heard about her once, the entire time I was growing up."
"Well, apparently, she grew up on the west coast," her father divulged now that his daughter had finally fallen silent. "Not that I know much about it; only that Clifford mentioned something about her after the last quarterly budget meeting. I suppose that's why you never encountered her until now."
Veronica shook her head, folding her arms over her chest as she crossed her legs and stared into the fire. It wasn't especially cold; her father just liked having a roaring fire going for the aesthetic. "Yeah, but why here? Why now? And is she his daughter, or a cousin? There's just so many questions…"
"And why don't you ask Cheryl these questions? Seems like the most direct route to get the knowledge you want."
"Because…" She sighed. "You know how bad things got with Blaze. I mean, I didn't really see it at the time, but he brought out all my worst instincts - turned me into a real bad girl. You don't want me to be a bad girl again, do you, Daddy?"
He shook his head with a rueful smile and a chuckle. "Darling, you don't have to resort to that kind of manipulation. I understand why you're concerned; you think this long lost Blossom will be just as much of a negative influence as that reckless boy was before they sent him overseas. But I highly doubt you'll fall into her trap, even if she were; you only have ever lost your head because of a boy, or because of your competitive… nature…"
They both stared at each other for a long moment. Veronica was trying very hard to look completely at ease, but she knew her heart was beating faster, and her foot was jiggling up and down from nerves.
"Oh no. Not that cretin."
"Daddy-"
"Not Archie Andrews again!" He wadded up his newspaper and hurled it into the fire. "Why can't you find another boy to annoy me with? Hmm? Why does it have to be that oafish klutz with hormonal ADHD?!"
"Hey! He's not oafish - and what's that last one supposed to mean?!"
"It means he can't stay focused on one girl long enough to get anywhere close to a meaningful courtship - before some other young thing comes along and distracts him, like a cat chasing a laser pointer!"
Veronica scowled. "He's not that bad, Daddy! And anyway, this is about my reputation - I don't want all my dirty laundry coming out in the wash, when I've worked very hard to keep my past in the past! I just want to finish my senior year and start college without any little snickers and assumptions following me around!"
"Well, you know what they say: 'you made your bed'…" But Mr. Lodge sighed and rolled his eyes when his daughter pouted even harder. "Alright, alright. I'll ask Clifford a few questions when next I see him - but I'm not doing any 'detective work' or anything unscrupulous."
"Thank you, Daddy," she sighed in relief. That had been more than she truly expected of him, since he was such a rigid disciplinarian sometimes.
"Just don't be too shocked if your past catches up to you, after all. Sometimes good intentions aren't enough to erase history, you know."
"I know," Veronica glowed, mostly disregarding that last bit because she had already gotten what she wanted - and her mind was starting in on the next phases of her Cheryl Blossom Defense Plan. She hopped up and hugged him tightly, making him fight to catch his pipe lest he spill it all over the expensive rug. "Thank you so so so so much, Daddy!"
"Hmph," was all he responded as she dashed away. "Sometimes I feel more like a vending machine than your father."
But Veronica was already sprinting up the grand staircase toward her room. She had a lot of work to do, and it wasn't going to do itself.
I think some people forget that some literature and some media is meant to be deeply uncomfortable and unsettling. It's meant to make you have a very visceral reaction to it. If you genuinely can't handle these stories then you are under no obligation to consume them but acting as if they have no purpose or as if people don't have a right to tell these stories, stories that often relate to the darkest or most disturbing parts of life, then you should do some introspection.
I’ve read some things that deal in sad/dark/actually depressing and disturbing subject matter. I’ve loved them and the points they make without endorsing the events portrayed.
It’s always disappointing to get online and see that the conversation is “X thing shouldn’t exist” on the grounds that it made somebody feel badly. It was meant to make you feel that way and it’s normal that it did - it’s okay that you stop reading it or don’t finish it but I am BEGGING you to consider why it made you uncomfortable and why the author felt the need (if the answer isn’t immediately obvious, as it can be). There isn’t shame in something putting you off so badly that you shelve it.
The sterilization of reality is a detriment to all who exist within it. To censor stories with painful themes is to erase the reality that such stories are based in some horrific truth and works to erase the reality that many people have endured.
This trend or whatever we want to call it has gotten so bad that I listened to an entire lecture from somebody about how awful a book was and how it shouldn’t exist at all, how the author was a terrible person for concocting it and how it hurt people. When I asked what the book was, this person not only could barely recall the name but HAD NEVER READ IT. I bought the book. I read the book. It accomplished its task beautifully and I found it to be a cathartic experience. I also understood how it could make people so uncomfortable and would never judge anybody for setting it down.
It’s okay not to like something and distance yourself from it. Remember that those rules apply only to you, though, because they speak only to your own psyche.
Periodic reminder that one of the many roles of fiction is microdosing on big scary feelings so you build resilience, empathy, understanding, and defense against the real thing.
This is partly why I adore reading. I can experience a fragment of another reality. Witnessing and learning with them the secrets to life. I find books without reason rather dull...
When I do not feel like taking on a book like House of Leaves or Lord of the Flies. I find myself reading books with warmth to them like Witchhat of Atelier, Dewey, Love Comes Softly, and Heidi.
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