❛ History is a strong word. It was more of a… dalliance. ❜
"And she’d say the same thing, right? If I went over there and asked her what the history was between you two, your stories would match up.” It wasn’t a question so much as a challenge, and one Jughead Jones presented plain as day for the redhead across the table from him. She unceremoniously thrown herself into his booth, knocking his skateboard that had been carefully propped up beside him in the whirlwind of her dramatics. He ought to have immediately realized the reason for her quick dive -- it was the same thing his best friend did from time to time, whenever he wanted to avoid an ex, a complicated love situation, or, well, just about anyone.
Green eyes ventured towards the girl in question, inconspicuous as he was curious. A hand flattened on the menu in front of him and he pushed it towards Cheryl to use as cover, if she felt like she truly needed it. After all, it wasn’t hard to miss her head of red hair, nor the flourish with which she did basically anything. Maybe Jughead’s presence was enough to set anyone off her trail, though, considering it was unlikely she’d ever be caught dead near the boy in weird clothes with a mound of burger crumbs on the plate beside him. “For every minute you sit here, you owe me more details. Nothing in life is free, Cheryl -- you should know that better than anyone.”