Veronica eventually relaxed, sitting poised across from Reggie as his face turned a different color and practically matched Cheryl’s custom cherry-red pumps. “Could you be any less of a pig?” Ronnie feigned disgust, just so her friends wouldn’t get suspicious before she turned to Betty and gave her a secret look that only the girl next door would be able to decode.
At the prospect of a party, everyone groaned, except for of course, Veronica herself. She loved parties. Especially when she was the one throwing them. That wasn’t the case now primarily because the timing seemed inappropriate. At the same time, letting loose might help get everyone’s minds off the serial killer making it’s rounds across the Northside. “You know what would truly make it a win?” Cheryl interrupted before Betty, Veronica, or Jughead could speak up. “Is if you weren’t there.” With the bitchiest smile Cheryl could muster, she looked up at Reggie and shrugged. “Absolutely not,” Jughead intervened, “Haven’t any one of you read a horror novel? Reggie, okay, maybe not. But, seriously. It’s like you’re asking for Riverdale to turn into the third installment of Cabin Fever. Are you nuts?!”
Beside Jughead, Kevin spoke up by saying a party sounded great. He was becoming the custom third wheel and really aimed to break that habit. “We’ll see,” Veronica finally answered for everyone. “Betty, let’s go. Juggy, Kev, we’ll see you later. And Cheryl– we’ll see you at practice. As for you Reggie–” Before Veronica could walk off, she gently perused past Reggie, brushing his shoulder on purpose. It was a cat and mouse game they played. “Nevermind. Later!”
As Veronica stood up and said her goodbyes to everyone but Reggie, the jock sneered over his letterman jacket, yet still admired that cushiony-ass swaying beneath a yellow and blue vixen skirt. My, oh my. “Later is right, palomita.” Reggie heard Veronica’s father use the term more than once and decided to translate; it meant little dove. There was also a translation that said it meant popcorn, but Reggie was sure Hiram wasn’t calling his little angel a crunchy, salty piece of mmm-mmm-mmm, even if she was. “Imitating her father, Reg? You think that will get you to third-base?” Jughead smirked around a mouthful of cafeteria food. “Er, the girl got daddy issues...” Reggie spat defensively, as if to say duhhhh. Of course he thought it would work. It has worked. She needed a strong shoulder to cry on and Archie and Hiram was major disappointments. Not that he would tell Jughead that. He’d squeal and then the sex-games would be off.
On the football field, the Bulldogs were practicing for their big game, while the cheerleaders worked on their routine in the gym. However practice was cut early due to the coach’s bizarre absence, which led to the boys devising a plan to prank the girls. “Reggie, this is a bad idea.” whined Trevor, the mayor’s son. “If you want to be a little bitch about it, you can trade in your jersey for a skirt and some pom-poms.” Reggie chuckled behind a plastic mask. Trevor retreated and eventually snuck away. Which was a good thing since he didn’t have a heavy enough sack to be a Bulldog. “In position, Moose?” Reggie asked into his phone. On the other side of the line, Moose stood in the basement with his hand on the circuit breaker. “10-four, Mad Dog.” the third person on the line was Jimmy, the team’s running back, “J-Dog, all set?” Jimmy wrapped chains around the main exit and slipped a lock on. “Do I have to say 10-four?” Jimmy asked and Reggie groaned. “Do you have it or not, numb-nuts?” — Jim sighs, “10-four.” Moose kills the power. Reggie listens at the emergency exit as the girls complain and murmur to themselves, then panic arises when someone heads for the doors only to find out they’ve been locked. A couple of seconds later the emergency door is kicked open and Reggie walks in with a purge-like mask on. The Bulldogs then show up behind him, all in masks too, armed with squirt-guns and water balloons. “FIRE AWAY!” Reggie roars, spraying the girls down.
