Hello, dear reader, and, after a long absence, it's lovely to be back writing. I hope you enjoy this first installment, and please leave a review if you have the chance.

Standard disclaimers apply ;)

Cev

Golden

Chapter 1

It's the first day of September, and if I fail today my whole Junior year is ruined.

I look at my reflection, trying to eke out any imperfections: a flyaway hair, an uncovered pimple. My chest is tight and my heart is high in my throat. I wish I could crawl into bed and fall asleep - for in my dreams I can set the pace of life. I can have control.

But not today.

Alice swoops in as she does every morning at 6:45. Her hair is perfect and even though she works from home most days she's dressed in office wear. She holds a stack of perfectly-folded laundry that slides into an exact spot in my dresser.

For a heartbeat she doesn't say anything. She walks up behind me and places her hands on my shoulders, looking at me through the mirror. I haven't moved a finger. I ignore her eyes, hoping that by being still I can calm my mind.

"You're 10 minutes behind, Elizabeth. Come down for breakfast." Her lips are pressed into a thin line and her voice is calm. I turn my head away from the mirror, and she sighs in resignation. I glance up and I see hurt in her face but she quickly masks it with a tight expression. I'm still angry with her so I don't care. I know I should, but I can't seem to be able to want to form a bridge with her anymore. She walks out with a fast pace, calling out, "Make your bed properly."

A retort is on my tongue but I check myself - engaging will just make things worse. Because I always do, I comply and make the bed. By the time I pull on my uniform jacket - a wool blazer that drowns my arms - and grab my backpack, I'm even angrier at her. Before I'm out the door Alice calls — "4PM, sharp." My dad is sitting on the couch near the door, and looks up from the rim of his large glasses, his hands pausing above his laptop. I know he wants to say something, but before he does I quickly kiss him on the cheek and exit the house, not giving a reply to my mother. As I walk down the street my heart constricts and I hate myself for being cruel, because I know my mom is hurting.

But I swear I'm hurting more.

Out on the sidewalk I look around, still unfamiliar with the neighborhood. It feels like I knew it, somehow, a long time ago, but after being gone for so long my sense of direction in Riverdale is fuzzy.

My walking route sends me in the opposite direction of Riverdale High, the school I would have gone to had we stayed here my freshman year. It'll take me nearly half an hour to get there, but I don't mind getting up early, and I gained time by avoiding breakfast with my mom. I'm surprised my parents didn't insist on dropping me off every day for the rest of my school days, but I'm thankful for the small amounts of freedom I've been granted. After 15 minutes of trying to breathe and think about everything I'll have to get through today, I turn the corner to cross a busier Riverdale street and see the middle school on my right.

I stop in my tracks and almost get run over before I run the rest of the way across the crosswalk. The old building is like a ghost in the early blue light of the morning, and I feel like I'm in a dream. I start for it, even though I know it's in the wrong direction of my new school. I reprimand myself for being overly sentimental and turn on my heel, heading up the hill. I pause, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath.

"I have time."

I turn around towards the old school and feel stupid for it because I know that I'm weak right now and can't keep my emotions under control. But I'm unable to retract my steps. I cross the street again to the east side and walk along the chain link fence. I hold my hand out, dragging it along the cold metal, and my heart races as memories pop up. I arrive at the end of the block and turn left into the school. It's gritty and empty — the public schools haven't started yet, and it's too early in the morning for anyone else to be here. I cross a small yard to the soccer fields. They're bright and freshly mowed, and I love the green smell. I take a deep breath and am surprised to find myself calmer, noticing the color of the clouds and the comforting chill in the autumn air. I know I shouldn't but I shrug off my bag and lie down in the middle of the field, stretching out my legs. It's is still damp from the morning dew and I know I will get stains. The grass feels prickly on the back of my legs.

"How'd it go, Cooper?"

I jolt up, certain I heard clearly, but I'm alone in the field. It's impossible for the memory to be suppressed. I repeat it a few times in my mind to see if I can remember the light, sarcastic intonation properly. It's getting harder every year to imagine it correctly. I lay back down and hold my right hand out, imagining he's there and taking it, that I can see his profile in my peripheral.

"Just fine, Jones. Just fine."

I close my eyes because I can feel my breath hitching and I know I'm about to cry. I pinch the soft flesh between my pointer finger and thumb on my left hand hard to stop the tears, and it works. I relax into the ground, trying to hear his voice, imagining a better time. But I can't travel back four years. I indulge in wondering what he looks like now, where he is, what his interests are, and if he still writes silly poems…

He grabs my wrist, looking down, and scratches the back of his head. Some of his short black hair sticks up from the back, and I laugh. 'Elizabeth. Meet me at the fields tonight. I need to tell you something.'

'Is everything okay?'

He looks up at me, smiling crookedly and flashing a beautiful white smile. I feel self-conscious and look down at our hands.

'Everything is wonderful.'

I'm hot and my eyes fly open. The sun is higher and I feel groggy. Sitting up and pulling up my left sleeve, I look down at my watch:

7:47

"Shit. Shit shit shit." I pull myself up and grab my backpack, feeling my heart beating a mile a minute, adrenaline pumping. I pull the straps tight to my shoulders and click the hip strap across my waist and pull the strap tight so that the bag is flush against my back. Without another glance, I leave my indulgent memory trip and race out of the middle school grounds, pumping my arms and sprinting up the hill to my first day of what is sure to be hell.

It's the first day of September, so I already feel like I'm fighting a losing battle.

I make a grimace at my reflection and try to make the best of it. "Perseverance, my dear Lord, keeps honour bright."

I pull on my jacket — sport coat, Archie calls it — and reach for my trusty beanie. Because I've got a sulky reputation to uphold I pull out just a few bangs and glower into the glass. I won't get through homeroom without Miss Grundy forcing me to get rid of the hat, but I'll keep trying all the same.

"J, can you grab some rice on the way home today after the diner?" My mom peeks her head in my room, her tired eyes admiring the uniform. "Oh, honey, you look great." she comes in and adjusts the tie.

I don't mind the motherly impulses, but I give her a look all the same. "Mom. I'm not 12."

"Well, no, I suppose you're not," she puts her hands on her hips, and, a little self-consciously, adds, "You look so much like your father."

With that the mood is broken and I scoff, grabbing my backpack. "Jellybean, let's go."

I hear my mom let out a long sigh behind me as I grab my truck keys and pull open the door. My second-grade sister hugs Gladys and trails along after me, not saying a word. She doesn't talk much these days. I open the passenger door for her and look back at my mom. The kitchen window she's looking out of is gritty and yellow. I can't help but admire the determined stubbornness of her expression.

I put the truck in gear and pull out of the trailer park to start our half hour drive to school.

After a few minutes I hear: "Can we listen to Frozen?"

Her voice is so quiet I can hardly believe she said anything. We pull up to the light that will take us to the freeway, and I raise my eyebrows in surprise and fumble for my phone.

"Um, sure."

She grabs the phone from my hands just as the light turns green, and pats my shoulder, pointing to the road, "Watch it - light's green, Juggie."

I haven't heard her use that nickname in a while, and it makes me happy and sad. We pull on to the freeway and I'm lost in thought, thankful that JB is too young to remember how different our lives were four years ago. After what feels like an eternity of Disney grating on my ears, we turn into a much nicer neighborhood that we came from, not far from our school, and I pull up curbside to the more modest of the houses - a two-story blue craftsman. I honk and after a few minutes a red-headed boy runs out of the house, still putting on his blazer.

"Dude, do you think you could text instead of honk?" He throws his bag in the back and gets in behind Jellybean.

"Texting is for those that have time to type inane, half-formed thoughts out." I reply, pulling out and heading towards the school.

"Jughead." Archie rolls his eyes, but he's smiling.

"Oh, it's not like he has very many people to text anyway." Jellybean says, and I raise an eyebrow at her.

Archie, who's not used to her talking, whistles low, "Sassy! Why does Jug need anyone else when he has me?"

I huff out air - "Hey, I've been listening to Disney songs for over 20 minutes, the least you could do is be a little nicer."

Jellybean smiles, "And I thank you, Juggie."

She's too cute to argue with, so I focus on getting us the rest of the way. We round a corner after a stop and I take a moment to look over my friend - I haven't seen him in a couple of months, and he looks like he's gained half his weight more in muscle. "Did you become a gym rat after our camping trip or something?"

"I signed up for Coach Carr's weightlifting sessions late in the summer, and after working with my dad on the house, things just kind of…"

"Built up?" I offer.

Archie laughs and I quirk a smile, turning the last corner to drive up the hill. The old truck slowly makes its way up, and we're passed by much nicer cars along the way.

"Whoa, check her out." Archie leans forward between me and JB, and our heads track with our eyes as we pass an athletic-looking girl who's sprinting up the hill, a black backpack tightly strapped to her back. She's wearing our uniform, so she's obviously a schoolmate, but neither of us recognize her. I can't look for very long for fear of crashing off the hill, so I look away before I see her face.

A moment later Archie looks over at me like he's just seen an angel, and I roll my eyes, "Star struck, are you?"

"I mean, you gotta admit it's strange to see someone running up the hill to our school—"

"Or running towards it at all." I look in the side mirror to catch a glimpse, but the pine trees have blocked any view.

"True, true, but she was really beautiful."

"You mean, really really good looking?" I purse my lips in the mirror.

Archie laughs and rolls his eyes to the truck roof. "Yeah, man, but I swear I've seen her before."

"Well, I'd stop and let you offer a chivalrous ride, but by the looks of it, she's making good time, and we've got to get JB to the elementary side first before she's late."

Archie looks at me with disappointment, and I wave him away, "Down, boy."

As we near the gates to the school and I think about the girl down the hill, I can't help but think of another blonde-haired girl in my other life, who always wore a ponytail, who could always get me to stop for her. I feel a twinge of guilt, but I'm certain she's fine - and just another wealthy student with a weird athletic proclivity.

When I pull up to the elementary JB leaves the truck without a word, and just smiles back to us as we move on to the high school parking lot. After I park I get out and stretch, I look around at the other cars in the lots: Lexus, Volvo, BMW, and a few ostentatious foreign cars.

"How the hell do we get so many wealthy families in this town? Where exactly do they come from?" I grit out, already annoyed.

Archie claps a hand around my shoulder and I slouch a bit more, glowering at the school, "It's Thorn Hill Private School in New England, Jug, you can throw a cat —"

"And hit someone with money, I know, I know."

"Besides, not all of us are from wealthy families."

"Another scholarship year — I just want to get this over with."

"Come on, Jug, it's not going to pass by just standing there." Archie moves on ahead and I lift my head and soldier on.

I arrive under the main entrance of the school with minutes to spare. The imposing metal and stone sign arches up and leads into a long drive which ends in a stone entrance to the main building. I'm already exhausted but I sprint to the main building, passing a chapel and walkways lined with trees to other houses and class buildings. The main building is huge, with a large set of arched wooden doors with stairs leading up to them. It's flanked by side entrances to other wings of the building. A few students are just coming up from the other side of the building around the back, from what looks like the main parking lot. I don't pause and go directly in, finding my way to the office easily since I had just arrived a week ago for the tour with my parents.

An old woman greets me in the office, her blouse stiff and buttoned all the way up to her collar. Her hair is white with a dark red streak, and her eyes are piercing.

She doesn't ask my name or miss a beat before eyeing my disheveled appearance up and down. "Welcome to Thorn Hill Academy, Miss Cooper. So glad you could join us just before the bell."

I'm breathing hard and trying to slow down my heartbeat, feeling completely spent. "I'm sorry I'm a little la-"

"Newcomers should give themselves a half hour before arriving on their first day." The crone tuts but hands me my schedule, as well as a few large books. They feel unnaturally heavy. "Your student guide is waiting in the lobby."

"Actually, I'm here."

I turn around and am greeted by a beautiful girl who is about my height. Her jet-black hair is perfectly curled and frames a heart-shaped face. Unlike mine, her uniform doesn't swallow her - it actually looks really good, and while her heels look insensible, she seems completely comfortable. I can't help but think, with a twinge of jealousy, how drastically different we are. She coughs and I snap to her eyes, realizing that I've just given someone I don't know a blatant once-over. I feel my face heat up as I try to mouth out an apology.

"I'm Veronica Lodge," she interrupts me, "I can take it from here, Mistress Blossom."

The white and red-haired crone waves us off, clucking at the emphasis of the title, and Veronica gives me a wry smile, leading me out of the office.

"Not exactly timely, are we?" Veronica winks at me, "I wouldn't be either, this place can be a bore, and Mrs. Blossom is a hag if I've ever met one, but the teachers are good."

I cough, finally regaining my composure and slightly annoyed at the suggestion that I wasn't punctual, but I try to ignore it and put a smile on my face and stick out my hand, "I'm Betty Cooper. You certainly speak your mind."

She smiles warily and gives me a once over, I'm sure I'm a mess with the nap in the soccer fields and sprinting up that god-forsaken hill, but I wiggle my fingers and she seems to decide something, laughs and then takes the handshake. "You better believe it. It's a pleasure, Betty. And I'll thank you for getting me out of home room while I show you around. Why don't you hand me your schedule there?"

I hand it to her and she looks at it for a beat, then starts walking down the hall, "Let's drop your stuff off by your locker, shall we?"

I put away most of my books and Veronica walks me down the hall, pointing out the student lounge and cafeteria. We walk outside after walking the length of the building, and she points out some athletic buildings and the chapel. I can't believe she's not missed a step while wearing those heels. I'm convinced it's a magical power. As we head back up the drive to the main building, she turns in the drive to give a dramatic wave to the school grounds.

"And that's pretty much it! Our glorious Thorn Hill - it's a small school and it's split into primary, secondary, and high schools, so there's a lot of the school you won't see."

I look around at the manicured lawns, sports fields, and specialty buildings, and think about the all-girl private school I had been at for the last two years, "It's a lot nicer than I expected. A lot."

Veronica eyes me, "Where did you say you were from?"

I didn't. "I'm actually from Riverdale, but we've been living in Boston for a few years. We just moved back."

"Ah, well, welcome back home! My family just moved here my freshman year, so I'm pretty much a newcomer. There are a few of us, but most of these Thorn Hill kids have been here forever. Unless you're a scholarship student. Are you a scholarship student?"

Kind of rude. "Um...no, I'm not."

"Oh! A for-real new kid! How rare!" Veronica looked down at my schedule she'd been holding, "And in the advanced class, too — with me!"

"Advanced class? Aren't they all...advanced?"

"Everything at Thorn Hill is harder than your average school, but there are two levels of classes. The competition for the best marks for college applications is fierce, so people really fight for their position in the student body. But I'm sure you know that, eh?"

I don't expect the Canadian lilt, and even though this girl sounds like she's being snobby, she seems to just be stating facts instead of opinions, so I can't hold it against her. "I've been going to private school for a few years now. The transition was hard," I answer truthfully. But mostly just lonely.

"I'm afraid it won't be easier here. Do you live on campus or off?"

"Off - I live down in the - Greenpark neighborhood? I think that's what it's called. We just moved in a few weeks ago."

"Wait - what? That's a long haul. Did you walk?!"

I shrug and reply simple, "I like walking." Veronica gives me an eye and is silent for a while before I release a short sigh, "Ok, yes, I do like walking, but, yeah, it's a long haul and I'm not looking forward to it once it gets colder."

She smiles and eyes me with something that seems like respect, "Hey, if you'd like a ride home today, just let me know."

I'm taken aback by the kind offer and it takes a moment before I thank her, "I...thanks, I really appreciate it. Maybe one day, I do actually enjoy the time to think, and I think I'll keep doing it until the weather gets bad."

"Did you get a lot of thinking done while running here?" She smiles. For the first time in a week, I give a hearty laugh. "Come on," she grabs my elbow, "The bell will ring soon. Let's get some coffee at the student lounge. We might even be able to do something with this Into the Wild look you've got going."

A part of me feels like I should be insulted, but the fact of the matter is that I do feel like a mess, and I would prefer to clean up a bit before making first impressions. I like her straight-forward style. "Sounds great."

The start of the term is uneventful as Miss Grundy hands out our schedules and has us sign the school handbook. After going through our syllabus and confirming that we finished our summer reading, she asks if we have questions - which is a joke because every single kid in here has been coming to this school for more than two years. At half past she takes us through the hall and we trudge to the chapel for the opening speech by Headmaster Blossom. I fall in step quietly with Archie, who has been catching up with his jock friends. They dislike me, but ignore me. I'm fine with that.

Reggie comes up to Archie and slaps him on the back, "Dude, WHAT have you been doing this summer? You've got to tell me what your secret is!"

"I've just been working with my da—"

"Uhuh, sure, Andrews, keep it to yourself."

"Reg, seriousl—"

"Ok, also, dudes," — he puts his arms around both of us, and I glare at him. He ignores me, and I wish looks could kill — "Just walked by the lounge. There's fresh meat this year. HOT meat."

"Male or female?" I ask.

"What? Are you kidding me?"

"Well, you seem to want to get friendly right now, so…"

Reggie releases us like we're fire, and I exchange a knowing smile with Archie. I don't mind affection with anyone, as long as I know them. Archie looks grateful to have Reggie's overpowering personality at least a few feet away.

"Hey, settle down Jughead, you know I'm straight as a line."

"Straight as a straight line, I presume, but one can never truly tell."

"Did you catch a name?" Archie interjects, coming up between Reggie and myself, trying to diffuse the tension. I appreciate the move.

"Not yet, she was with Ronnie, but dude - she's gorgeous."

"Alright, dudes," I stretch as we enter the large chapel and head to the back, "I'm going to the back, please don't make too much of a fuss." The football boys follow Reggie to their usual spot, and all of the school and grades fill in, including the elementary students at the left entrance. They're kept separate, but I can see Jellybean's black braids as she cranes her head to look for me. I give my habitual low and high whistle call, turning some heads, but I don't care about the attention since JB turns her head immediately towards my direction and breaks out into a big smile. She doesn't look stressed out and is walking with a brown-haired girl I recognize from this summer, so I wave to her and feel relieved. Archie sidles in beside me and we get ready for the annual welcome speech.

Just as all of the sanctuary doors are about to be closed, the front ones reopen with the bright morning light blazing in. Two girls shuffle through, one I recognize as Veronica. The brightness of the light obscures the other girl, but her blonde hair makes her look like she has a halo. Archie cranes his head up as they pass, making it impossible for me to see, "Arch, your increased size isn't helping," I whisper, and lean back to just see the back of the other girl's head as they find their seats near the front. I shrug and lean back, uninterested in the flurry of gossip and news. Archie, bless him, is quiet and just waits, looking over at Veronica and her new friend periodically.

I notice Veronica and Reggie giving a heated exchange, but at exactly 9AM, Headmaster Blossom interrupts them, coming out of a door near the front of the nave and booms, "Excellence, Integrity, Honor, Kindness."

And, like robots, the entire student body rises and repeats. I cross my arms, thankful to be away from any watchful professors, but Archie, ever the optimist, recites the Thorn Hill virtues with pride.

"Please sit. We're happy to greet you all for another year at Thorn Hill. As our students, the pride of this school, we expect you..."

The rest of his speech follows as it does every year, espousing the virtues of academic excellence and community service, with a twinge of pride that smacks of something militaristic. I'm sure I look like I'm in hell because Archie eyes me and gives me a knowing look, "Always the dissenter?"

"It's a psychological ploy to get keep us on our best behavior so they can keep running the school at a high level."

"It's not exactly prison, Jug, and you always walk the line."

"I do what I have to," I sneer, and Archie raises his hands in defeat before Grundy smacks me over the head with some rolled-up sheet music and whispers angrily, "Pay attention!"

I rub the back of my head, and before I can readjust my hat it comes off my head. Irritated, I rise up and look behind me, where Miss Grundy leans on the back wall, holding the confiscated hat up like a taunt. "No hats with your uniform, Jughead."

I save my glare for the front of the chapel, and just hope this will be over as soon as possible.

Before we open the doors I hear a strong whistle through the student commotion, first a low tone, which then zips up loud and high. My heart races at the familiarity, and I look at Veronica with a question on my lips.

"Oh, that'll be Marshall. He does it all the time." She rolls her eyes, "Walking model, but a real piece of work, that guy. I wouldn't introduce you, but he's friends with someone I've got my eye on."

"Marshall." I repeat, and feel like all the air has gone out of my heart.

Veronica looks back at me, "You okay?"

"Hm? Yeah." I wave her off, but I feel worse than when the day started. I pinch my left hand.

We're the last to arrive at the main doors when a redheaded girl moves in front of us, half-closing the door behind her. I see her sneer at Veronica, and my new friend stops the door just before it closes, looking back at me, "Watch out for that one. Biggest bitch in the school."

My hopes for an inconspicuous arrival at Thorn Hill are dashed when we open the door. We're the very last to arrive and take our seats, and the chatter becomes muted as I feel a hundred pairs of eyes on me. All I can do is look at the flagstone in front of me as Veronica leads us to a pew. We squeeze into a row near the front, and I wish I could ask Veronica to sit us in the back, but I don't want to turn around and awkwardly face the student body by heading back, so I stay quiet.

As we wait, a dark-haired boy leans over from behind next to Veronica. He's handsome, with long almond eyes and an athletic frame. "Hey Ronnie, you going to introduce me to your new babe?"

I feel the flush and Veronica gives me a sympathetic look, "Pipe down, Mantle, she's a woman, not a 'babe'."

"I don't know about that," He says, and eyes me. I look away, not sure how to answer him, if I should be polite or defend myself. I wait too long to decide, and he huffs, "Hmm, bit of an uptight one here, then?"

I'm about to give my retort, but Veronica reaches out and pinches the boy's cheek, seething, "You know, you're really terrible as first impressions, Reggie. Can't you see the lady doesn't have time for your shenanigans?"

Reggie doesn't look like he likes being handled that way, and is about the stand, his voice low, "Veronica—" he warns

"Excellence, Integrity, Honor, Kindness."

And just like that, the booming voice kills Reggie's irritation and he stands with the rest of the students to repeat the words. "Excellence, Integrity, Honor, Kindness." Surprised and frozen, I stay seated, feeling like I've walked into an Orwellian dystopia.

The Headmaster grips the podium and fixes me with a sharp look, and I realize that by sitting I've made a big mistake. Veronica prods me and I stumble up quickly, hoping no one noticed. When I stand, he continues: "Please sit. We're happy to greet you…"

I'm embarrassed and annoyed, but I keep my face a mask of calm and contriteness, and I think it suffices for the Headmaster, because he moves his gaze from me and scans the rest of the audience.

As the assembly ends and we're lead in a finishing prayer, the headmaster motions to the red-headed girl from earlier and she bounds over to where I'm filing out of the pew with the others, "Elizabeth Cooper, the Headmaster would like to see you."

I feel like I've been called to a beheading, and Veronica just glares at the girl, "Hello, Cheryl."

Cheryl glares. "Lodge."

Veronica pats my shoulder, "It'll be painless," she whispers. She doesn't know what I know.

Headmaster Blossom looks sharp and serious, and his wrinkles are all frown. I've never liked any of my meetings with him. Cheryl takes me up to the front near the nave, and I feel like I'm supposed to bow, but thankfully the headmaster extends his hand, "Elizabeth, it's a pleasure to see you again."

"Good morning Headmaster," I reply, shaking his hand firmly. He raises his eyebrows and gives a smile that looks more like a grimace.

"Strong grip there - I assume you'll be playing on a team here?"

"I...would like to, Headmaster."

"We always wish our students to be as well-rounded as possible, Elizabeth. I think your guide must have missed a few Thorn Hill protocols, so I'm sure Cheryl can help you."

"Yes, fath—" He turns his head sharply towards her, and for a brief second I can see her smug mask drop before she amends, "Yes, Headmaster." She's the daughter, I realize, and I feel even more wary about what Veronica said about her.

"We expect great things from you, Miss Cooper, as I'm sure you're aware." The Headmaster folds his hands behind his back, and Cheryl looks like she wants to burn me with her stare.

"Of course, I'm here to do my best." I say with what I hope sounds like confidence, feeling like I have to find places to stand my ground with these folks.

"Let us hope that is enough," he replies, and I wonder if he's this encouraging to all of his students.

Cheryl smiles at her father and leads me back towards the doors. She doesn't say a word until we exit the chapel, and then she turns her heel on me. She's inches from my face and I can smell her fresh makeup as she spits, "I don't know why your stupid family thought it was a good idea to send you here, Betty,"—and I've never thought my name sounded so horrible before—"But get in my way and I will make your life hell here."

I want to slap her for getting in my personal space, but I tame the dragon down, step back, place my hands behind my back, and pinch my left hand. I say calmly, "I'm not here to cause trouble, Cheryl, my parents made the decision, not me."

"We'll see about that, Cooper." She glares at me again before turning her heel and heading back to the main building. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding, and Veronica comes up to my side.

"What was that about?"

"Honestly, I don't know."

"Well," she says, "You're with me in first period - yay Latin," she says unenthusiastically, "let's shake off the Cheryl while we can."

Before we can get any further, Reggie from earlier intercepts us along the path from behind, and drapes his arms around the both of us.

"So, about your friend —"

I know he's harmless, but I feel like I'm about to explode. Before Veronica can chide him, I flash my eyes at him, "Get off of me!"

It sounds shriller than I expected, and the intensity makes him hold us stronger, "What are you talking abou—"

The next moment passes in what feels like slow motion. Before he can finish, Reggie is being pulled back by force, and I hear a crack and see his jaw going to the side. Standing over him is a tall boy with long dark hair, partially gelled on the sides. He's tall and lanky, but obviously strong. He holds his right hand gingerly.

"Knock it off, Mantle."

At the sound of his voice II breathe in a sharp breath, and he glances at me with a tired expression.

"What the hell, Donnie Darko?! Do you think you're Daniel Larusso or some shit?" Reggie rushes off his feet towards the boy, who stands with his left arm blocking, ready to punch again, but before he can take a swipe at the interceder, a tall and well-muscled red-headed boy holds him back.

"Just chill, Reggie, Miss Grundy is about to come out, don't make it worse. Jughead, he didn't mean anything by it." Jughead!

"Whatever, Archie. Marshall, you better watch yourself." Reggie straightens his blazer and walks off in a huff. I'm confused, looking at all of the boys in turn - Marshall?

I'm dazed as I stare at the newcomer, who stares at me in full, his expression dark, angry, and expectant, as if he knows exactly what's going to happen at any moment. I'm frozen and can't speak. His nose, his stance, his eyes, his hair — they're all familiar shapes, but he's so different.

The red-headed boy leans into my view and flashes a charming smile, "You okay?" But I glide past him, and his expression drops. I hear Veronica laugh. I feel desperate, alive, and completely out of my mind. I have a million questions, but only one that needs to be answered right now.

"Forsythe?"

Please review if you get a chance, it's lovely to be back. :)

— Cev