@mapleblood (whispers @ self: maybe if i tagged you. )
As promised, Jughead was waiting on the bleachers of Riverdale HIgh for six p.m. He had arrived a little early so he could stretch his legs out and relax. Admiring the school from this height gave him a different perspective. He could see angles of the school he wouldn’t otherwise get to with his feet firmly on the ground. He could also catch glimpses of the roof where workers were walking around, probably inspecting it for holes or leaks. Jug never knew this kind of attention to detail could exist. Southside High didn’t even bother with stalls on the bathroom doors, let alone making sure the school was in safe, working order. It made him respect the janitors and handymen of Riverdale High. The things he didn’t even know he had were things he sorely missed.
But all of this played distraction to the thudding heart beat in his chest. He was nervous. Cheryl Blossom had provided Jug with a safe, fun evening at Pop’s. she’d told him he deserved better. That he, to the core, was better. It had meant a lot to him and hopes had been high as he walked his way through Riverdale to the cleaner side of town. He missed this school so badly, but he wondered if his transfer would ultimately provide him some new life lessons he couldn’t get at Riverdale High. Right, he thought, like how your face heals from a brass knuckle punch? Great life lesson, Jug.
The boy slouched back as he occupied quite a big spot on the top bleacher. He had his legs stretched out along the bench and one arm perched over the back support, where kids on the top benches could lean back without falling down. He could easily look down over the school now, his chin resting in the crook of his elbow.
Oh yeah. This is the life.
