Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Cheryl didn’t remember Riverdale being quite so hot.

She pulled the sweat-soaked cloth of her shirt away from her neck before flipping to the next page in her novel. Then she swatted away a mosquito as she nudged her rocking chair back and forth. A blessedly cool breeze ruffled her hair gently, carrying the smell of cut grass and the distant lake. The tiny plastic American flags in the yard snapped noisily. Children yelled in the distance and the cicadas in the trees screamed in response. Cheryl noticed herself clenching her teeth and she consciously released her jaw.

She hated the 4th of July.

“Cheryl?” Betty called from inside the house.

The screen door slammed shut as she came outside. Cheryl could hear the wood of the porch creaking under her feet as she approached. Lifting her eyes from her book, she took in the blonde.

Her outfit was more weather-appropriate (jeans to Cheryl’s thick red trousers, a short-sleeved cut-off to her blazer) and her hair was tied into an ever-present ponytail. One hand was on her hip and the other was holding a glass of sweet tea. She was leaning against the wrap-around railing and looking down at Cheryl with a disappointed expression.

“What’s the problem, dear cousin?”

“We can’t stay inside all summer.”

She gestured around. “I’m outside.”

Betty scoffed. “Cheryl, come on. I need a break from this place.”

“You need lotion.”

Cheryl eyed Betty’s hands. Her knuckles were red and chafing. Betty self-consciously rubbed the hand holding the glass, then held out the amber liquid to the redhead. The ice cubes clinked against the side of the glass as Cheryl looked down at it distastefully.

“You know I don’t like that stuff. Too sweet.”

“You used to.”

Cheryl returned to her book to avoid Betty’s eyes. The blonde heaved a sigh as she placed the glass on the railing.

From the year they were born, the cousins had lived down the street from each other. They had shared every milestone from first lost tooth to first heartbreak. They would walk to and from school together every day and in the summer, they’d hop in the lake and swim for hours. Afterwards, they’d wrap towels over their shoulders and walk down to Mr. Pat’s ice cream parlor, leaving wet footprints on the sidewalk. The burly man would give them a megawatt smile and two scoops of rocky road, jokingly saying he’d put it on their nonexistent tab.

The memories made Cheryl shudder. It had all been so quaint. How had she ever been happy here? When she’d moved to New York in the 8th grade, her world had cracked wide open and she’d sworn to put that whole era behind her.

Mr. Pat was long dead now anyway.

“Look, city mouse,” Betty said, ignoring Cheryl’s glare at the nickname. “I don’t like being social any more than you do. But I’m going stir crazy in there.”

Cheryl pursed her lips. She hadn’t been sure what to expect when she’d arrived a week ago. It had been years since she’d returned home. New York had changed her. The shy, gangly twelve-year old she was when she’d left was unrecognizable to her now.

But to her dismay and utter lack of surprise, Riverdale and its inhabitants had remained exactly the same. Which is to say that Betty’s parents were still absolute terrors. Not as bad as her own, of course, but that bar was unfairly high.

Heaving a sigh, Cheryl did her best to act put-upon as she set her book down. “What did you have in mind?”

Betty grinned. Taking a victory sip of tea, she wiggled her eyebrows at the redhead over the glass. Cheryl already regretted this.

*

The 4th of July treasure hunt was gearing up to start. The air was thick with anticipation by the time Cheryl and Betty arrived at the town square.

The annual event consisted of breaking up into teams and racing all over town to follow vaguely themed clues. It lasted all day and, in the evening, there would be a cook-out, a live band, and of course, fireworks. Cheryl had completely forgotten about the event, but the memories surged back as she and Betty weaved through the crowd to the sign-up booth. They ducked under the shade of the tent.

“Howdy, Ms. Oliver.”

“Betty!”

Cheryl rolled her eyes as Betty and the older woman behind the booth started up an animated conversation about her dog or husband or something equally inane. This was definitely something southern that Cheryl did not miss – getting trapped in unending conversations.

Glancing around, she spotted a different tent in the distance. People flocked around it, pulling sodas out of the multiple coolers set out in its shade. Cheryl nudged Betty’s arm and nodded to the crowd, then quickly walked off before Betty could respond.

As she made her way over, she noticed a band warming up on the makeshift stage. They were wearing matching leather jackets, which had to be sweltering in the heat. Cheryl was admittedly grateful that Betty made her change into a more weather-appropriate outfit before they left. Sweat plastered her shirt to her back and she quickened her pace, desperate for shade.

“Hey! Watch it.”

She had collided with a tiny pink-haired girl. Annoyed brown eyes looked up at her, squinting against the sun, and Cheryl felt the flush in her cheeks grow worse. Self-conscious thoughts about her pink and sweaty state flooded her brain, immediately followed by a flash of anger. She wasn’t that timid kid anymore. She was Cheryl Blossom.

Staring the girl down, she barked, “You watch it.”

Pushing past her, she continued towards the tent, releasing a relieved breath once she was finally out from under the beating sun. Sauntering over to the ice chest, she pulled out a can of cherry coke.

The can hissed as she popped it open. She didn’t need to be nervous around these uneducated country bums, she reminded herself harshly. She was no longer one of them – she never had been.

“Lemme guess: some cherry cola for Cheryl Bombshell.”

She whirled around to see the girl from before. Her arms were crossed and Cheryl couldn’t tell if her expression was genuinely upset or just teasingly so. The uncertainty made her testy.

“How do you know my name?”

The girl scoffed. Cheryl could swear she saw hurt in her eyes before she masked it with annoyance. Pressing her hand to her chest, she said, “Toni. Toni Topaz? We did a presentation about Chichén Itzá in 7th grade?”

The memories flooded back. New girl Toni being introduced to the class at the beginning of the year. Spending hours together at the local library. Stolen glances over thick volumes. Getting angry looks and being shushed when their studying quickly turned into off-topic conversations and bubbly laughter. Their hands brushing against each other when Toni walked her home. Betty’s gentle teasing at her blush.

“Oh. Right.”

The girl smiled like she was remembering the same things. She had gotten taller since the 7th grade, though not by much. The eyeliner and blush were new and her hair was different, but looking into her eyes, Cheryl wondered how she hadn’t immediately recognized her. Her heart skipped a beat and she longed to step forward.

Instead, she glanced away. “Well, good to know you finally discovered make-up.”

When she returned her attention back to Toni, the smaller girl's face had been fixed into a neutral expression. She nodded. “Huh. So the rumors were true.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Cheryl, bad news. We – oh, hey Toni.”

Betty had jogged up to the pair. Noting the tension, she stepped between them, facing Cheryl.

“Bad news: we need a team of at least three to compete.”

Cheryl was surprised at her own disappointment. It’s not like she’d wanted to do this stupid hunt. She hadn’t even wanted to be here in the first place.

“I’ll join you.”

The cousins turned to Toni. She shrugged.

“I’m in a team of four. The boys will be fine without me.”

“Sweet Pea and Fangs?” Betty guessed. Toni nodded. “Who’s the fourth?”

“Me.”

A shadow fell across the trio. They turned at the voice.

“Hey, Betty.” Archie Andrews' He-Man-like stature blocked out the sun as his brown doe eyes fell on the blonde. Betty blushed.

“Hey, Archie.”

Cheryl rolled her eyes. Betty’s crush on Archie had been going strong since they were seven years old. She couldn’t count the number of hours she and Betty had spent in blanket forts or sitting in the booths at Pop’s or swimming in Sweetwater River, as Betty talked about her love for Archie and how they were going to get married someday and oh Cheryl, Archie asked me to marry him after school today and someday we’re going to have kids and a dog and a house with a picket fence.

Cheryl’s eyes darted between the two of them now and she felt the familiar jealousy churning in her stomach.

“Good to see you too, teenage Thor,” she cut in, stepping between them. “It’s been a while. Are you still in the middle of your ridiculous Troy Bolton-esque crisis or have you matured enough to accept all of your road puddle depths?”

Archie frowned. The silence stretched between them.

“Anyway, I’ll – I’ll go sign us up,” Betty said. “Now that we’re a trio.”

“I’ll go with you,” Archie added quickly.

Betty paused, gauging Cheryl’s reaction. Toni refused to back down from the redhead’s glare and Cheryl found herself nodding. “Fine.”

This was going to be fun.

*

“Okay, does everyone know the rules?”

Up on the stage, the mayor held a microphone, grinning at the crowd’s eager response. Betty was clutching the envelope containing their first clue, fingers toying with the opening. Cheryl stood next to her with her arms crossed, doing her best to ignore Toni’s proximity on her other side.

“Alright, ready? Set. Go!”

Betty tore into the envelope and read out their first clue.

Clue 1:

[Well, we got no choice
All the girls and boys
Making all that noise
‘Cause they found new toys]

Chapter Text

“So when did you get into town?”

Apparently, ignoring Toni wasn’t going to be an option. Normally, Cheryl would have more respect for someone who refused to be ignored. In this situation however, she simply found it irritating.

“A few days ago.”

She tried to quicken her pace, but Toni kept up.

The foursome were headed for Archie’s car. When they read the clue, Betty immediately recognized it as the first verse of the song School’s Out.

“Alice Cooper, hell yeah,” Toni had said.

“Sapphic little savant,” Cheryl muttered loudly enough for Toni to hear. The smaller girl curtsied, taking the jab in stride.

Archie had offered to drive them to the school. On the one hand, the sun was relentless and Cheryl wasn’t about to walk. On the other –

“Did you happen to get a real car since I left?“ Cheryl asked hopefully. “Or do you still have – “

“ – the jalopy? Yup.” Archie stopped in front of a pile of rubber and rusted metal in the shape of a car. He nodded to it proudly. “Been working on it every day since middle school.”

“Cheryl, come on,” Betty said, hopping in. She put a hand out and helped Toni into the car.

“No A/C and no top? Did you forget?” Cheryl gestured to herself. “Redhead. I burn easily.”

“I’m a redhead too, Cheryl,” Archie said, not even trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice. “It’s a short drive, it’ll be fine.”

“There’s no way – “

“It’s this or walking,” Betty cut her off.

“Or you and I could take my motorcycle,” Toni added. She smirked at Cheryl’s blush. Cheryl’s mind wandered, fantasizing about holding tightly to Toni’s waist as they zipped down the road.

There’s no point in thoughts like that, she chastised herself. It’s not like I’m staying here.

“I suppose this is fine for a short drive,” she allowed, climbing into the car.

She closed the door behind her and pushed herself against it, doing her best to keep her distance from Toni. It wasn’t easy considering how packed the backseat was. Toni’s body was pressed all along her side and she could feel a blush creeping up her neck. Noting the tension, Betty clambered over the bench seat, putting herself in the front next to Archie.

Taking advantage of the newly freed-up space, Toni slid away from Cheryl, settling comfortably into her new corner. Cheryl exhaled sharply, doing her best not to stare.

The heat wasn’t so unbearable once the car started moving. The wind raced through her hair in a way that was admittedly thrilling and she watched the landmarks roll by. Two teenagers were exiting the boxing gym, cloth duffle bags slung over their shoulders. A few groups were wandering around the park, running past the fountain and towards the gazebo, presumably following their own clues. Children screamed with laughter on a nearby playground. She watched as a mother took her toddler’s hand, guiding them to the swings. Mr. Pat’s ice cream parlor was still standing somehow, clearly vacant. Cheryl took in the darkened interior, stripped bare of the chairs and tables, and the gray neon sign out front. She’d never seen the sign switched off before. The realization made her chest hurt and she quickly looked away.

“So how was New York?”

She glanced over at Toni, who was eyeing her curiously. “Sorry?”

“Did you like the city? More than Riverdale?”

“We didn’t - we needed a change,” Cheryl said, dodging the question and hoping her tone discouraged any further inquiries.

“Cheryl’s older brother Jason had just graduated,” Betty elaborated. She couldn’t see Cheryl’s glare from the front seat, but Cheryl was certain she could feel it. “She and her parents drove up to visit him and then she just . . . never came back.”

“That’s right, you have an older brother.” Toni frowned. “So, you didn’t write or – “

“Nope,” Betty said. She looked back at Cheryl, facing her glare head-on. In a faux casual voice, she added, “I mean, I wrote. And texted and called. But I never got anything back. Why was that, Cheryl?”

The tension in the car was palpable. Toni’s expression was gentle, but to Cheryl, her gaze felt piercing. She ignored her, opting instead to try to melt Betty’s head with her mind. Archie’s eyes were glued to the road, doing his best to ignore the storm brewing.

Finally, Betty scoffed and returned to looking forward. “Relax, Cheryl. I’m just giving you a hard time. You didn’t explain the radio silence when you got here last week, so why start now?”

A silence descended, cut only by the loud putting of the ancient motor.

“We needed a change,” Cheryl reiterated. When no one responded, the weight of the silence forced out an additional few sentences. “I fell in love with New York while we were up there. And my parents had already been talking about moving, so it just made sense.”

The explanation was weak and the glaring omissions within it were obvious, Cheryl knew that. But she also knew she wasn’t ready to share the whole truth.

The jalopy zipped through Fox Forest and Cheryl let the trees become a blur as the memories flooded back.

She had just turned thirteen when Jason left for college. He had decided to leave a few months early, claiming he’d need the extra time to acclimate himself to the big city. The rest of the family knew the real reason. He was desperate to escape the Blossom household. Cheryl knew the feeling.

She watched him drive away, biting her tongue to keep herself from begging him to stay. As the car disappeared around the corner, she felt like half of her heart had gone with him.

A few weeks later, they had gotten a phone call late in the evening. Apparently, there had been an accident involving several students – something to do with alcohol, a speeding car, and the Hudson River. It might have involved hazing as well, but the police weren’t completely sure yet.

Her family had dropped everything, piling into the car. Her father had friends in New York and, by the time the sun began rising, an apartment had been obtained, their Riverdale house had been sold, and Cheryl’s life had been completely upended.

Her days were spent feeling like she was standing still as the world bustled around her. She ignored all of Betty’s calls and texts (and eventual letters), while never fully able to gather the energy to simply block her number. Her nights were spent staring at the ceiling, listening to her parents’ arguments through the wall as they debated about how suing the school into oblivion might affect their public image. Any time someone tried to talk to her directly, their voice seemed warped and far away. She felt like she was underwater.

When Betty’s calls stopped coming, it was a relief. It was also another deep crack in her heart.

When the Blossoms left town, they completely severed ties with everyone. No one back home – no one in Riverdale, that is, knew what had actually happened. To Jason. To her.

The trees parted as the car drove over a high bridge. Cheryl glanced down at Sweetwater River flowing beneath them.

“You okay?”

Toni’s soft tone cut through her thoughts. Her large brown eyes were full of a wary warmth. For a second, it seemed like she was going to reach out and put a hand on her knee. Cheryl flinched.

“I’m fine,” she snapped.

Toni’s brow furrowed and she looked away. Cheryl turned in the opposite direction, ignoring the pain in her chest.

*

“Alright, here’s the plan,” Betty said.

The foursome had reached the school and were standing in the front entrance. It had taken slightly longer to reach their destination than expected. Archie had taken a small detour to a local clothing shop to buy Cheryl a sunhat. She had a feeling he was also buying her silence, but she was still touched by the gesture. She had forgotten what a thoughtful guy he was.

The school was cavernously empty. It smelled like body spray and tile cleaner, but Cheryl had to admit, the A/C felt heavenly.

“Archie and I will check the locker rooms and any classrooms along the way. Cheryl and Toni, you guys check the lounge and the classrooms nearby.”

“Sounds good,” Archie said. Betty’s eyes darted over to him before quickly looking away. He did the same.

Cheryl rolled her eyes, biting back a smirk at this pathetic display. She had told Betty time and time again how painfully obvious it was that the feelings were mutual. Betty had always promised she’d tell him, but continually chickened out. Apparently, she hadn’t grown a backbone since Cheryl left.

Pining. Ridiculous. So juvenile. Cheryl risked a glance at Toni, who was watching Betty and Archie with her own half-smile. The smaller girl looked over at her and she quickly averted her gaze, heart pounding.

“Okay, lovebirds!” she cut in. “Are we doing this or what?”

The group split, the squeaks of their shoes against the tiles echoing up and down the halls. Cheryl braced herself for more questions, but they never came. Instead, Toni excused herself and disappeared in a different direction, promising she’d meet up with her at the lounge.

Cheryl had never actually gone to Riverdale High, and thus didn’t know where the lounge was, something the other three had apparently forgotten – though in Betty’s case, she assumed it was less forgetting and more refusing to help her out.

The only memories of Riverdale High she had were of attending late night football games. She could remember clambering up the metal stairs of the bleachers, the bright lights illuminating the field. The electric anticipation of the crowd around them was one of the few things that could block out the icy demeanor of her parents. She’d focus on the field, excitedly waiting to see her brother jog out with the rest of his team. He’d search the stands until he spotted her waving eagerly. Then he'd wave back with a sunny grin just for her, calling out –

She shook away the memory. There’s no time for thoughts like that, she chided herself. She continued striding down the hall. The lounge couldn’t be that hard to find. She wasn’t about to show any weakness, especially not in front of Toni.

Annoyed, she checked a few classrooms before thankfully finding a carpeted room with couches and tables. The walls were covered in paraphernalia. Vending machines sat in the corner. Shelves overflowed with books and papers. She wasn’t sure where to start.

“Hey,” Toni said, rushing inside. She was holding two large cups of water. She offered one to Cheryl, who took it gratefully, hiding her surprise.

“Thank you.”

The water was exactly what she’d needed. The pair drank quietly as they scanned the room for clues. Several minutes of silence passed as they searched separately – lifting cushions, checking under tables, and going through cabinets.

“What kind of a school has a lounge like this?” Cheryl finally said, unable to take the silence.

Toni chuckled lightly from the other side of the room. Cheryl ignored how the sound made her heart flutter.

“Yeah, my old school wasn’t nearly this fancy.” Toni pointed at the bulletin board pinned to the wall. “I mean, look at all of these clubs.”

Cheryl approached. The board was covered in flyers – announcements about club meetings, movie nights, babysitting offers, and upcoming plays. All the dates were long past, of course.

It reminded her of New York and how there were always a thousand things going on wherever you went. Those events were extremely helpful in creating excuses for her to leave their suffocatingly tiny apartment. Grief made it hard to breathe and her parents were not helping.

At first, her favorite place to run to had been a nearby movie theater. High quality distractions, an excuse that allowed her to spend hours outside of the apartment, and she didn’t have to speak to anyone? It was perfection.

And it had been at one of those late-night movies that she’d met two people who would change the trajectory of her life.

She couldn’t remember what the movie had been, but she remembered standing outside after it had ended, still not ready to go home. She was moments away from breaking down and buying another ticket when she heard a voice cut through the air.

“Yeah, it’s okay, but it’s a remake. The original is always better.”

She glanced around, spotting a pair of people around her age. A serious-looking boy in a beanie was walking past, one arm carrying a half-full bag of popcorn, the other slung around a radiant looking woman with dark skin and long black hair. She seemed used to speeches like this and that made Cheryl immediately warm towards her.

“When the original came out in 1923, it completely changed the game. Modern theater just can’t emulate – “

The boy paused when he noticed Cheryl staring.

“I’m sorry? Can we help you?”

His tone was snide. Anger flared inside her. Normally, she’d tamp it down, but she wasn’t Riverdale Cheryl anymore.

“Sorry, I was just in awe. I wasn’t aware grunge fashion existed outside of the 90s. And, of course, Pearl Jam concerts.” Not her snappiest comment. But she’d get better. Besides, Grunge Boy’s girlfriend was grinning, which made her glow with pride.

“We’re going to Artists’ Alley. Would you like to come with us?”

“Tab!” the boy exclaimed. He’d clearly been ready to leave, happy to bore his girlfriend to death with Fight Club trivia and Kubrick quotes. He pulled her away and the pair began an animated conversation Cheryl pretended not to hear.

“Are you crazy? You don’t know her – “

“She clearly needs a friend, come on – “

“ – that’s not our job – “

“Excuse me.” Cheryl stepped forward. As they’d talked, she’d suddenly realized New York Cheryl would never stand aside quietly while she was talked about. “Does this ‘Artists’ Alley’ include painters? Or is it just filled with people like you, who – let me guess – make black-and-white arthouse films that are all ‘too deep’ for us normies to understand?”

“Actually, I’m a writer.”

“Artists’ Alley includes painters,” the girlfriend cut in. “Is that what you do?”

Cheryl nodded. It had been a long time since she’d been able to do more than sketch. Their apartment was too small for an art room and her parents hated the smell of paint anyway. The sketchbooks hidden under her bed had been her only outlet for the past few weeks.

The girl held out her hand. “I’m Tabitha. This is my boyfriend Jughead. And we would be happy for you to join us.”

Cheryl held her beaming smile back, settling for a smirk. “Naturally.”

The pair shook hands as Jughead rolled his eyes.

‘Artists’ Alley’ turned out to be a nickname for the backrooms of their mutual friend’s art gallery. Local prodigy, Ethel Muggs, had an incredible talent for drawing and two rich investors as parents. Technically, her folks owned the studio, but since they never spent any time there, she and the local teen artists considered it hers.

From the moment she stepped inside, Cheryl knew she’d finally found a place in New York to belong.

It became her safe place to escape – memories, dark thoughts, her parents’ fights and expectations. Whenever it all got to be too much, she knew where she could go.

According to Ethel, the goal of the gallery was to promote the art of the community and bring fellow artists together. That meant there were always easels, canvases, and paints available. She could let herself get lost in creating a painting, the weight of her grief and loss melting away.

Sometimes, while waiting for inspiration to come, she would just sit and listen to the sound of creation all around her. The tapping of Jughead’s keyboard. The scratch of Ethel’s pen. Veronica humming along to her iPod or giggling quietly with Tabitha (two self-proclaimed ‘business girls in an artists’ world’). The comforting atmosphere surrounded her and she longed to sink into the feeling like a warm bath. Some days, she could.

But other days, one thought would rise in her mind again and again, making letting go impossible: I wish I could tell Jason and Betty about this.

I wonder what they’re doing in Artists’ Alley right now, she thought. Are they thinking of me?

Returning her attention to the bulletin board in the lounge, she tugged gently at one of the flyers, pretending to be unimpressed.

“Wow. A lot going on for a town that has nothing going on.”

“Okay, Ms. NYC,” Toni said. “What, did you think Riverdale just fell apart without you?”

“I didn’t think much about Riverdale at all, actually.” She meant to match the other girl’s teasing tone, but she was out of practice. Toni’s smile faltered as she moved further away. Cheryl leaned against a nearby couch to keep from following her.

“You know, you can act like you don’t like this town or our silly little events all you want. But I saw you today. When Betty said you couldn’t compete, your face fell.”

Cheryl scoffed. “I was just disappointed I wouldn’t get to show off my excellent mystery solving skills.” If she was being honest, Betty was the mystery solver of the two of them. But Toni didn’t need to know that.

“You never could hide your emotions.”

The accompanying gaze Toni gave her was so weighted, Cheryl had to grip the couch to keep from bolting.

“What makes you think you know me better than I know myself?”

“Because I knew you pretty well once. Before you became . . . this.”

“So why did you volunteer to tag along? If you dislike ‘this’ so much?”

Cheryl knew what she wanted Toni to say. (Because I like you. Because I could see you were hurting. Clearly, you’re in a lot of pain.)

“I came for Betty. To be a mediator.” Toni stepped towards her with a steely expression. “Betty cried for weeks when you disappeared. Did you know that?”

“Since when have you been Betty’s best friend?”

“Since she lost her first one.” Toni stepped even closer. “You ghosted her. All of us.”

Heart racing, Cheryl stared her down. “I don’t owe any of you anything.”

“No, I guess you don’t.”

Both girls refused to break eye contact, neither familiar with the concept of backing down.

Cheryl longed to reach out, to open up, to show Toni that the girl she’d been wasn’t gone completely. But the years of pushing that girl down had done their damage. Over the past three years, she’d only let herself lower her walls once.

And look at how that had turned out, she thought.

A high-pitched chime pierced the air. Cheryl jumped as Toni pulled out her cell.

“Archie and Betty found the next clue. Let’s go.”

She turned and walked out without a single look back.

In the silence, Cheryl realized her breathing had picked up. She pressed a hand to her chest. The cocktail of emotions Toni had left her with swirled inside her. Anger. Attraction. Shame. She wondered which one would leave the strongest aftertaste.

It had been a very long time since she’d gone toe-to-toe with someone. Most people were too afraid of her. Toni’s refusal to back down was refreshing – terrifying yet enticing. In another life, Cheryl would have loved to get to know her better.

But not this life.

She took a moment to collect herself – swallowing the lump in her throat and blinking away the sudden prickling behind her eyes – before quickly following her out the door.

Clue 2:

[Somehow, heartbreak feels good in a place like this.]

Chapter Text

The Babylonium had certainly seen better days.

The paint was peeling and faded and the promotional posters were out of date. But as they walked inside, Cheryl felt like she’d been sent back in time. The smell of buttered popcorn hung thick in the air. She could almost see the ghosts of her younger self along with a young Betty, running up to the candy counter, dollars clutched in their hands.

Jason would rarely come with them to the theater. He preferred the drive in. When it finally closed down, he’d been bitter about it for weeks.

She had almost forgotten.

Pushing the memory away, she shivered in the cold air. “It’s freezing in here.”

“Yeah, we keep the A/C on high in the summer,” the boy behind the candy counter said. Betty brightened.

“Kevin!”

Cheryl rolled her eyes as Betty ran over to start another endless conversation.

“I’ll search the lobby,” Toni said as she brushed past, ignoring Cheryl’s gaze. Betty was busy catching up with Candy Boy, which left Cheryl and Archie, awkwardly avoiding eye contact.

The pair traveled further into the theater, entering one of the screening rooms. Archie was clearly uncomfortable about being left alone with her but was doing his best to hide it. Normally, Cheryl would be offended by his silence, but after her conversation with Toni, she was grateful for the break.

Toni’s words still echoed in her head and the guilt weighed on her. Had Betty really cried for weeks after she left? Why hadn’t she told her that?

Strike that. The silence was too much.

“How’s your mother?” Cheryl asked.

Archie looked up, clearly surprised to be addressed. “Oh. She’s good.”

“That’s wonderful to hear.”

Archie’s mother was one of the few adult figures Cheryl had actually liked growing up. The adult Blossoms had a feud going with the Coopers – apparently, her parents had loudly disparaged the neighborhood when they’d first moved in, calling it a ‘sad example of the wastelands brought about by liberal charity’.

According to Jason, making a few bad investments and losing their fortune right before having a kid had made them bitter.

So Cheryl’s friendship with Betty, while fulfilling, usually came with a tinge of disdain from both sets of parents. Neither girl minded, but it did make sleepovers a little awkward.

However, when Archie had been brought into the dynamic, Cheryl was introduced to a completely different lifestyle. She could remember the first time she realized Archie’s family was different than her own.

She and Betty had been on their way to school, excitedly talking about what wonders first grade might hold for them. As they passed Archie’s house, they heard the front door slam as a little redhead started running towards them.

“Can I walk with you guys?”

“Archie Andrews!” His mother stood at the top of the stairs, a jacket in her hands. “You get back here right now.”

Groaning, Little Archie trudged back up the stairs and let his mom put the jacket on him.

“It’s freezing out. And you’re not getting sick on my watch.” Giving him a kiss on the head, she nudged him forward. “Have a good day.”

“Okay, mom!”

He raced back to the girls, joining them on their walk to school. He started talking animatedly, oblivious to the adoring look Betty was giving him as she listened.

“My name’s Archie. Are you guys excited? Do you think there are going to be any new students this year? I hear Mr. Johnson gives extra homework if you’re late for class. Hey, Cheryl?”

“Huh?”

Cheryl’s attention was still on the Andrews’ house. She was trying to remember if her own mother ever chased after her, reminding her to wear a jacket when it was cold out.

“Did your brother ever have Mr. Johnson?”

“Uh, I think so. He gives extra homework if you’re late.”

“Shoot!”

As the years passed, Cheryl only became more and more enamored with the Andrews family. Archie’s father had passed when he was a baby, so Mrs. Andrews was raising him alone. For some reason, this made Betty and Cheryl’s parents very wary.

“I don’t like you hanging out at the Andrews house,” Penelope said one day over dinner. “I know it’s not her fault, but I don’t want you getting ideas.”

“Ideas about what?” At that age, Cheryl hadn’t yet learned not to bother with follow-up questions.

“About being a single mother.”

“But Archie’s nice,” Cheryl said, confused. Jason caught her attention and shot her an eye roll. She grinned.

“Archie’s cool, mom,” he agreed. At this point, Jason was almost in high school, which made him the smartest, toughest, coolest person in the world. “Even if he’s a latchkey kid.”

Cheryl ignored the distaste in his voice when he said ‘latchkey kid’, choosing instead to focus on the joy of being validated.

“I still don’t like it,” Penelope muttered.

Cheryl had no idea what her mother was talking about. Mrs. Andrews was wonderful. Whenever Archie would invite her and Betty over for an impromptu dinner, they never felt like they were intruding. Instead, the warmth of the conversation and the meal made them feel more at home than ever.

Cheryl had heard houses described as ‘homey’ in books. She’d never really understood it until her first sleepover at Archie’s.

The trio had stayed up late, playing games and enjoying each other’s company. Betty and Archie had slept in, but Cheryl had woken up early and been unable to go back to sleep. Plodding down the stairs, she had found Mrs. Andrews milling around the kitchen.

“Good morning, sweetie! Did you sleep okay?”

Cheryl nodded, rubbing a fist into her eye.

“Would you like to help me make breakfast?”

She nodded eagerly, hopping onto the chair Mrs. Andrews had pulled out. Together, they made pancakes. Cheryl was thrilled at the opportunity to assist. She was never allowed to help in the kitchen at home.

On the rare occasions when her mother cooked, she’d never let her linger for long, always berating her for being in the way or making a mess. Eventually, Cheryl gave up, hiding out in her room with Jason until they were called to meals.

That morning started a tradition. Archie’s mom had taken note of how desperate the girl was to learn. She was determined to teach her everything she knew.

Sometimes, she’d drop subtle bits of advice that Cheryl would drink up like a neglected houseplant. Other times, Cheryl would just so happen to stop by at the same time Mrs. Andrews was about to start preparing lunch or dinner, allowing her to assist in the process. The lessons expanded into laundry and basic home maintenance when Mrs. Andrews realized Cheryl had no other place to learn them.

“Does she still cook for you?” Cheryl asked, watching Archie kneel to look under the theater seats.

“She does. Oh, that reminds me: she wanted to know if you did a lot of baking up in New York.”

He gave her a cheeky grin, remembering the cookbook Cheryl had carried around in her backpack for a year.

The summer after seventh grade, Mrs. Andrews had presented Cheryl with her ‘Baking for Beginners’ cookbook. It was worn with age and some of the pages held remnants of spilled flour and splashes of vanilla. Cheryl accepted it with awe.

“We’ve worked our way through the whole book,” Mrs. Andrews had said. “Now you can try some on your own.”

Cheryl had nodded mutely, knowing her mother would never allow that.

When the Blossoms had left for New York that horrible night, they’d left with only the clothes on their backs. It wasn’t until a week or so later that Cheryl had poked her head out of her cloud of grief to ask about Jason’s things.

“We told the realtor to throw everything away.”

“Realtor?”

“We’re not going back to Riverdale,” her mother had said in a tone that invited no further discussion. “Too many memories.”

They’d refused to have a memorial for the same reason. She longed to talk about him and share stories, but her parents suppressed any discussion she tried to start about him. So she shoved the feeling down. Besides, reminiscing was something Riverdale Cheryl would do.

New York Cheryl never looked back.

A few months later, while out with a friend, she’d spotted a copy of the cookbook sitting in a bookstore window. As they’d passed by, she’d had to blink the tears out of her eyes.

She paused now, weighing her words.

“It was lost in the move.” Along with everything else she loved.

“That sucks,” Archie commiserated.

“Yes. That it does.”

The room fell back into silence and Cheryl’s thoughts turned to Betty.

Between the two of them, Betty had never really been the crier. Cheryl had been more likely to burst into tears at any inconvenience, while her cousin preferred to push her feelings down. She could even remember telling Betty how unhealthy it was for her to suppress things.

How the tables have turned, Cheryl thought humorlessly.

“I can’t believe you won’t open up to me!” she had said. “It’s like the hours we spent perfecting our bff handshake were for nothing.”

She’d always had a flare for the dramatics.

They had been eleven years old. It had been a perfectly sunny day in June and they’d been on their way to swim in Sweetwater River. Their joined hands swung between them as they walked, towels slung over their shoulders, their flip-flops slapping against the ground. The smell of the sunscreen Betty’s mom had slathered them with permeated the air. Birds sang sweetly as Cheryl utilized her strongest skill: being annoying.

“What’s wrong what’s wrong what’s wrong what’s wrong what’s – “

“Fine! I’ll tell you.” Betty glanced back before lowering her voice. “But not yet.”

In the end, Betty stayed quiet until they reached the river. The water was a rich multi-hued blue and, as Betty dove in, sunlight sparkled across the surface like diamonds. She swam far away from the banks, knowing Cheryl would follow. Once she had decided they were far enough away, she paddled closer to Cheryl, who stared at her expectantly.

“Archie’s leaving for summer camp,” Betty whispered. Her eyes swam and she blinked the tears away. “It’s stupid.”

“No!” Cheryl lied.

“He’ll be gone for six whole weeks! What if he forgets about me?”

“Impossible.” Cheryl reached out to grab Betty’s hand under the water. “I’ve seen how he looks at you. If someone looked at me like that – “

She could feel herself tearing up. Suddenly, a splash of water hit her in the face.

“Hey!”

She wiped her eyes to see Betty grinning. “You’re so sensitive.”

Cheryl splashed back. After a little back and forth, a voice called from the shore.

“Tweet, tweet! I don’t have a whistle. Settle down out there!”

That’s right, Cheryl thought as the memory played out. Jason had been there. He hadn’t wanted to join, but he’d come with them at their mom’s request. When they got to the river, he had stayed on the shore, playing lifeguard.

“Hey, you okay?”

Archie’s voice jolted her from her memories. Her ears burned as she realized she’d been staring into space, lost in thought.

“I’m fine,” she snapped. Guilt gnawed at her and she tried again, softer this time. “Sorry. I’m fine.”

Archie shrugged, returning to his search.

“Did Betty – how did she react when my family left?”

He stilled. “It was, uh, not great.”

“Oh.”

“She’s okay now. But I know she missed you.”

“She doesn’t seem too thrilled to have me back.”

“Cheryl.” Archie paused, waiting for Cheryl to stop and meet his eyes. “Come on. You and I both know what she’s doing. It’s the same thing you’re doing.”

Acting tough to avoid getting hurt. His honey brown eyes stared unflinchingly into hers and she was struck by an unexpected realization: Archie wasn’t stupid.

All his years of being idiotically lovestruck and earnestly, consistently supportive – New York Cheryl had misremembered him as painfully naïve. But maybe she had been the naïve one.

She knew she wasn’t attracted to him. But in that moment, Cheryl completely understood how Betty’s crush had lasted for so many years.

“Sometimes I think you may be the only decent person left in Riverdale.”

A shy grin lit up his face. He opened his mouth to respond when his phone chimed.

“Uh oh.”

“What?”

“I forgot I was supposed to be on Fangs and Sweet Pea’s team.”

Archie’s wince at his phone combined with the genuine remorse in his voice was too much for her. Cheryl laughed, surprising them both.

“I’m sorry. You’re just so sincere.”

He gave her a confused smile before heading for the exit. “I’m gonna call them.”

He disappeared, leaving her in the silence.

Cheryl grimaced as she unstuck her shoes from the concrete floor with each step. The cloth seats were discolored with age and a few of the chairs took extra effort to fold down. The smell of fresh popcorn in the lobby had become the smell of stale popcorn and spilled soda. And the amount of chewed gum stuck beneath every surface was appalling.

The theaters in New York were never like this.

At the memory of her favorite theater in New York, her mind returned to her Artists’ Alley friends.

What were they doing now? Was Ethel starting on a new painting? Had Jughead finished his ridiculous novel? Had her dear Tab-Tab found a better boyfriend? Was Veronica –

Her heart clenched. She had no right to wonder about the Artists’ Alley teens. Especially Veronica.

Veronica had been her friend before Cheryl had been invited into Artists’ Alley. The Lodges and the Blossoms had a long, well-documented history of rivalry. When the matriarch of the Lodge family had heard the Blossoms were moving into her city, she had warned her daughter to stay far away from them. The very next day, Cheryl found a brunette waiting on her doorstep, hand outstretched.

“I’m Veronica Lodge. My mom would be furious if she knew I was doing this and I have a feeling your parents would be upset too. Let’s be best friends.”

Cheryl had never been charmed so quickly. She still kept her walls up, of course. But, if pressed, she could admit Veronica was the only person in New York she’d call a ‘friend’, rather than a ‘close acquaintance’.

Over their course of their friendship, the girl had probably dragged her to hundreds of clubs and thousands of parties, dancing until they hurt, drinking until they were staggering home in the early hours of the morning. It infuriated Cheryl’s parents. She loved it.

One day, she had holed herself up in one of New York’s fabulous libraries. She was curled up in a corner, deep in one of her favorite Gothic novels when her phone rang.

“Cheryl! My favorite redhead. There’s a party at Katy’s tonight and you’re my plus one.”

Cheryl sighed. New York Cheryl was an extroverted party-girl, but even she needed a break sometimes.

“Can’t. I’m stuck at home. My parents won’t – “

“No, you’re not. You’re like twenty minutes away from me. You’re in the library on Leroy Street.”

She sat up in her chair, frantically scanning the room. “How do you know that?”

“I took your cell a while ago and downloaded FindMyPhone. You really get lost when you paint, you know that? It’s honestly impressive, I’m totally jealous.”

“You’re tracking my phone?!” A nearby patron shushed her. She took a calming breath. “Why?”

“For this exact situation, duh! And for late nights when I’m too drunk for Uber.”

“You can be too drunk for Uber?”

“Apparently! Anyway, see you in twenty. Kisses!”

As soon as Veronica hung up, Cheryl scrolled through her settings. Just as Veronica had said, FindMyPhone had been downloaded. Cheryl’s thumb hovered over the delete app button. After a moment, she backed out of the screen instead.

Veronica’s ways of showing care were strange and exhausting. But they were genuine.

“Good news!” Archie said as he walked back inside the theater. “Fangs and Sweet Pea found a third person, so they’re still playing. Also, Toni found the clue. Let’s go!”

As she followed Archie out back into the lobby, she noticed someone was missing.

“Where’s Betty?”

Archie shrugged. “Bathroom, I think.”

She stalked into the bathroom, flinging the door open. “Time to go, cousin – “

Betty was standing at the sink, washing her hands. Her eyes had been vacant, staring into nothing. She jolted at Cheryl’s entrance, coming back to herself.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Ow.” She pulled her hands out of the sink and Cheryl noticed red blossoming at one of her knuckles.

“You’re bleeding.” Betty ignored her, grabbing paper towels and pressing them against the wound. “How long were you standing here?”

“I’m fine,” Betty reiterated firmly. The tone made Cheryl bristle, but she pushed it down, remembering her previous conversations with Toni and Archie.

She closed the door gently behind her. In a soft voice, she asked, “Why are you letting me stay in your house?”

Cheryl hoped the additional questions – Why did you answer my call after I ignored you for so long? Are we still friends? What’s going on with you? – were implied.

She knew what she wanted Betty to say. (You sounded desperate. I missed you. I knew something was wrong.)

But when Betty turned to face her, her icy look extinguished any hope left in Cheryl’s heart.

“You know I love a good mystery. And figuring out why you disappeared back then seemed like an interesting way to spend the summer. You know, before you disappear again.”

With each word, Cheryl felt her walls rebuilding themselves. She let her eyes slide past Betty and stared at her reflection. Putting on an annoyed expression, she pretended to fix her hair.

“Whatever. Toni found the next clue. Let’s go.”

Clue 3:

[Whether you’re looking for a place to play
or a fountain on a scorching day,
you’ll find them along with your next clue
while Riverdale’s founder watches you.]

Chapter Text

“Ugh. ‘Founder’, my ass.”

The quartet were looking up at the statue of General Pickens. The statue sat in the center of Pickens Park, the location of their next clue.

Toni was right, of course. Everyone over ten years old knew that the tale of General Pickens ‘discovering’ Riverdale was blatant propaganda. On impulse, Cheryl quietly flipped off the statue. With a small smile, Toni did the same.

“Should we split up?” Archie suggested.

As the group went their separate ways to cover more ground, Cheryl wandered into the playground. It was empty now, the children probably inside having lunch. She walked over to the swings, which were nestled under the shade of a large tree. Nudging her shoes against the ground, she pushed herself back and forth slightly. She could pretend to be searching, but she was tired. Besides, it was far too hot outside and, as she’d been telling Archie, she burned easily.

Although, she had to admit, the fresh air felt wonderful, especially after the stale air of the theater. And from the shade, the heat was almost tolerable.

In the distance, she could see Betty investigating the fountain as Archie ran towards a cluster of trees. Her mind turned to 4th of July treasure hunts of years past. They’d always been a team of four. Little Betty would always take the puzzle solving extremely seriously, Little Archie would do whatever Betty told him to do, his crush obvious to everyone but her, and Cheryl would tag along, feeling painfully like a third wheel. But at least back then, she’d had –

Her fists tightened around the chains of the swing. She was sick of this. Every location held so many memories.

Letting her head fall back, she stared up into the branches. Sunlight twinkled through the leaves like stars. She closed her eyes and let herself be lulled by the gentle shushing of the wind through the branches and the distant burbling of the fountain. Even with the memories attached, the familiar smell of the playground put her at ease. The breeze cooled her skin as she inhaled deeply. Wind chimes tinkled in the distance and she felt a pang in her chest as the realization hit.

She’d missed this place.

Chains jangled beside her, indicating someone else had sat on the swings. She glanced over and caught Toni staring. The smaller girl quickly averted her gaze, but not before Cheryl saw her expression. It wasn’t full of disappointment or anger like it had been before. It was soft. Cheryl’s heart fluttered before she could suppress the feeling.

She’d been told she looked less abrasive – less mean – when in repose. She was glad Toni got to see that side of her again, at least once.

“You’re doing a great job looking for clues,” Toni teased. Cheryl rolled her eyes.

“Like I care about winning this thing.”

“Your cousin seems to.”

In the distance, Archie had waved for Betty to join him, apparently thinking he’d found something. Betty bolted in his direction, determination in her eyes.

“She’s always been competitive.”

“And you’re not?”

“Not about things that don’t matter.”

“It matters to her.”

Irritated at being tricked into another ping-pong conversation, Cheryl turned to glare. Toni’s eyes were already fixed on her. The same electricity sparked between them as she felt the familiar swirl of emotions.

Outside of Betty, Toni was the only person who could get under her skin so quickly. Not to mention the infuriating detail that she couldn’t stop thinking about kissing her. Both things had been true even from their first meeting.

Eleven year old Cheryl had been collecting books at her locker when she had felt a presence at her side.

“So Chichén Itzá, right? Riveting stuff.”

The girl’s long brown hair looked shiny and soft. Captivating brown eyes peered out from underneath thick bangs. Cheryl found herself unable to look away.

“I’m Toni.”

Cheryl prayed to every god she could think of that her blush wasn’t obvious. “Cheryl.”

“Pretty name.” Toni leaned against the lockers in a move that, in the moment, seemed cool and alluring. Months later, when Cheryl replayed it in her mind more objectively, it seemed shaky and nervous. Still charming, though. “So what do you say? Your place or mine?”

“I’m sorry?”

“For the presentation.”

Cheryl flushed. Toni was offering to spend more time with her. Her cheeks burned as she tried to formulate a response. “Oh, I – “

Her heart pounded. The image of Toni arriving on her doorstep flashed in her mind. Her brother’s teasing at her inability to hide her crush. Toni’s potential distaste towards the place she called home. Her parent’s . . . everything.

“I don’t think my house is a good idea. We’re . . . fumigating.”

Why did she say that? Now Toni was going to think they were dirty. Probably didn’t even use trashcans. Just threw their garbage directly on the floor.

“Oof. Been there,” Toni said. “So my place?”

Cheryl’s heart somehow increased speed. Time alone? With Toni? In her home?

“I think the library would be best.”

Toni shrugged. “All the same to me. Let’s go.”

“R-right now?”

“Why not?”

She desperately searched for a reason why not. “My parents are expecting me home soon – “

“They won’t let you come home later? Not even if you tell them it’s for a school project?”

Cheryl had no idea why she was fighting so hard against hanging out with Toni. A large part of her was desperate to spend more time with the girl in front of her. However, an equally large part of her just wanted to go home and hide under the covers until her blush went away.

For the first time, she understood what Betty meant when she gushed about Archie.

“I can’t.”

Toni clucked her tongue. “That’s rough. Maybe tomorrow then?”

“Maybe.” Shutting her locker and walking away, Cheryl just barely kept herself from looking back.

“See you then, beauty queen!” she heard Toni shout after her. She suppressed a grin.

“What are you smiling about?”

Returning to the present, she glanced over to see Toni, eyes alight. For a moment, she considered being honest. (I’ve been charmed by you since day one. You broke down my walls once and I need you to do it again. Help me please.)

The words caught in her throat.

“I was thinking about what you said before,” she finally got out. “And I would like to apologize.”

“No, I should be the one apologizing. I came on too strong. I was just upset about Betty, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you – “

“No, no, I needed to hear it. And for the record, I was wrong. About ‘I don’t owe any of you anything’. I do owe you. All of you. Eternally.”

Studying with Toni had become a common excuse for getting out of the house when her parents were too much. And before Toni came to town, ducking into Archie’s house with Betty had become commonplace, the trio sharing dinner with Archie’s saint of a mother. As for Betty, Cheryl couldn’t put what she owed her into words.

“Come on.” Toni stood up from her swing and put out her hand. “You can pay me back by helping me find the next clue.”

“I don’t know if that’ll be enough.” She took Toni’s hand and let herself be led further into the park.

“Oh, it definitely will be. Do you know how insufferable Betty will get if she finds the majority of these clues? You’ll be paying me back in spades.”

Cheryl was far too distracted to agree. Toni was holding her hand. Which meant nothing. It was just a hand. Most people had them. She herself had two. It was no big deal.

She brushed her thumb gently across the back of it.

“I haven’t seen Archie and Betty check around here yet.” They had reached the gazebo. Toni released Cheryl’s hand – admittedly well after they had stopped walking – and started searching the perimeter. After a moment, Cheryl followed suit.

Distantly, she could hear music in the air. The sound got louder as a car passed by, windows rolled down. Twangy, honky-tonk country blared loudly from its speakers as the driver bobbed his head to the music. Cheryl rolled her eyes.

She had always hated country music growing up. It followed her wherever she went – from the lifeguard’s radio at the pool to the low-volume speakers in every store or restaurant she entered. The only escape had been at home, which of course wasn’t much of an escape at all. To this day, the whiny vocals of a grown man crying about his truck or his dog or some other ridiculous thing made her cringe. She’d never had to deal with this in New York.

She caught herself humming along as the music traveled further away.

“Hey, look!”

Toni was pointing up into the branches of a nearby tree. Cheryl scanned the branches, assuming she’d found the clue.

“What?”

“A cardinal.”

Cheryl scoffed, returning to her search.

“Hey! I have been living here for four years and the only birds I’ve seen are pigeons or black birds. No color.”

“So?”

“So you have to cherish the beauty in life wherever you can find it! We should appreciate the small stuff more.” She shook her head, softly adding, “It’s always a surprise what you end up missing.”

Toni glanced over at her and Cheryl felt completely exposed. Her stomach twisted. She’d been so guarded for so long. She wasn’t used to being seen. She didn’t know how to feel about it and she didn’t like not knowing how to feel.

In a rush of courage, she blurted, “Before, you said ‘so the rumors were true’. What did you mean by that?”

Toni’s expression darkened. Quietly, she admitted, “I’d heard people say New York turned you into a huge bitch.”

“Oh.” Cheryl wasn’t sure how to react to this information. Riverdale Cheryl would apologize and say something nice to prove it was false. New York Cheryl would say something callous and haughty to prove she didn’t care. She decided to split the difference with a sincere “Sorry to prove them right.”

“You haven’t.”

She glanced up and, fighting her instincts, let herself fall into big brown eyes. If she listened to the flicker of hope in her chest, she could almost believe the other girl was doing the same. When Toni shot her a small smile, Cheryl’s stomach fluttered. She was seized with an overwhelming need to take her hand again.

Instead, she turned away, pretending to examine a bush near the entrance of the gazebo. She felt Toni’s eyes leave her as she continued searching. After a few minutes of shared silence, Toni finally said, “Looks like there’s nothing here.”

“Au contraire. You’re forgetting something.” Gleeful at getting to point something out to Toni for once, Cheryl directed her attention to the roof of the structure. Toni’s eyes lit up.

“You’re a genius. Boost me.”

Cheryl froze as Toni started clambering onto the bordering fence. “Oh, I-I was just guessing. Actually, they probably didn’t put anything up there. To discourage – “ Toni’s foot slipped off the fence, causing some wood to splinter off. “Climbing.”

Hopping back onto the ground, Toni reassessed the situation. “You’re probably right. This thing looks pretty old.” Turning to Cheryl, she shot her a spirited grin that made the girl’s heart flip. “But nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?”

Taking a flying leap, she jumped back onto the fence. Instinctively, Cheryl reached out to support her. Her hands hovered a few inches away from Toni’s body, not touching her, but ready to catch her if necessary. Toni pulled herself up the wooden pillar before clinging to the edge of the roof.

“Nothing up here.”

She jumped back down and dusted off her hands. “Okay, I’ll check the other side.”

“Toni – “ Cheryl masked her concern with an annoyed sigh. She followed, watching the other girl repeat her actions.

When Toni peered up at the roof, she let out a triumphant shout.

“Look what we have here!”

As she gingerly tried to reach for the item without upsetting her balance, Cheryl noticed a piece of paper poking out from underneath the railing.

“Um, Toni?”

With a cry, Toni fell backwards. Cheryl ran to catch her, resulting in both of them falling to the ground in a heap. After assuring each other they were fine, Toni held up a crumpled leaf in her hand.

“False alarm.”

Toni was sitting in her lap, her back pressed against Cheryl’s front. Pushing down her embarrassment, Cheryl said, “I’d say so.”

She pointed to the paper she’d spotted before. A folded envelope had been taped to the underside of the railing.

“You found it!”

Undeterred by their fall, Toni got to her feet and helped Cheryl up. Plucking the note free, she turned and held it out to her.

“Congratulations.”

Cheryl’s heart twisted at the small kindness. She had been so closed off, pushing Toni away every chance she got. Yet she was still so kind. She wanted to ask why, but she couldn’t form the words. Besides, New York Cheryl would never dare to show weakness that way.

But suddenly, New York Cheryl seemed miles away.

Cheryl took the clue, purposely overlapping her hand with Toni’s. The pair froze, caught on the cusp of something new.

“Is that the clue?” they heard a masculine voice say.

Archie came lumbering over, Betty trailing behind. The moment shattered and Cheryl’s ears burned as she quickly pulled her hand away.

What was she thinking? She was getting far too comfortable. Why was she letting her feelings get the best of her? Where was cold, protected, New York Cheryl? Her crush on Toni was pointless, after all. It wasn’t like she was staying in Riverdale. She couldn’t stay. It hurt too much.

“Yes, well, I’m sure you would have seen it first if you and my cousin hadn’t been so busy mooning over each other. Honestly, either admit your feelings or move on.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Cheryl regretted them. As children, Betty’s crush on Archie had been fiercely guarded, never spoken about in a voice above a whisper. She’d only open up to Cheryl about it late at night under their blankets or at the river, treading water far from shore so there was no chance of someone overhearing. It didn’t matter that Cheryl thought the whole thing was stupid. She respected Betty, so she respected her feelings. Until now.

It wasn’t the worst thing she’d ever said – not by a long shot. But it was the first time New York Cheryl had hit so close to home.

Immediately, Archie’s face went red. Toni glanced between the trio, face shifting between sympathy for Archie and disappointment in Cheryl. But it was Betty’s expression of complete resignation, like Cheryl’s comment was completely expected, that hurt the most.

Archie’s phone pinged and he pulled it out of his pocket.

“I-it’s my mom,” he stammered. “The radio in the garage doesn’t work. I told her I’d do it last night, but I forgot.”

He’d already started backing away, an excuse to leave clearly forthcoming. Cutting him off, Cheryl blurted, “Surely it can wait.”

She ignored the looks Betty and Toni gave her.

“It can’t, sorry.”

“Then let us come with you.”

“Oh, I don’t – “

“It shouldn’t take that long, right? We’ll help.” She kept her tone firm. Archie’s eyes darted to the clue in her hand. Her grip around it tightened and he sighed.

“Okay, Cheryl. Fine.”

*

The ride to Archie’s house was quiet.

Toni had spared the group some awkwardness, running ahead to take the passenger’s seat. That left Betty and Cheryl in the back, pressed into their respective corners.

As uncomfortable as this was, it was long overdue in Cheryl’s opinion. This was just petty small-town drama. Betty and Archie would get through it – in fact, they’d thank her, once they realized she’d actually helped them. At least, that’s what Cheryl was trying to tell herself. It wasn’t working.

In truth, she had never felt so rotten in her life. What if her need to protect her own feelings had ruined things for her friends? What if Betty never forgave her? The thought twisted her insides, making her nauseous.

She didn’t like the person she’d become.

Her mind drifted to another time when her New York persona had gone too far. It had happened months ago, but she still remembered it so clearly.

She’d been in Artists’ Alley, working on a new painting. It was about Jason – they all were – but this one more overtly so. She’d become comfortable with the other teens, even while she continued to keep her distance. Every time she came in, she’d only answer their questions with the barest minimum before taking her usual place at her easel in the corner of the room. But despite her aloofness, she couldn’t deny the warmth in her chest when being addressed. It made her feel like she was a part of it all: just one of the Artists’ Alley kids, if only for a few hours.

As she’d worked, she had disappeared into the ‘zone’: a painfully pedestrian term, but an admittedly accurate one. The room around her had melted away, narrowing down to her and the portrait. Her mind was blissfully silent as her paintbrush glided over the canvas, curving softly around Jason’s jawline.

“Hey, are you okay?”

She jolted, nearly wrecking the painting. Whirling around, she faced Jughead, who was holding a bag of chips.

“You know when people talk about putting your blood, sweat, and tears into something, they’re not being literal.”

Brow furrowing in confusion, she put her hand up to her face to discover her cheeks were wet. Horrified, she quickly wiped at her face, feeling shame rising inside her.

Jughead Jones. Always eating. Always sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. Of all the people to call her out, it had to be this tone-deaf, Tarantino-worshipping emo boy who had never stepped into a department store in his life. And who went by ‘jughead’ anyway? How did he get such a wonderful girlfriend and good friends and a perfect life where he can write his terrible novels and bother people while they were trying to mourn and steal a few hours of escape from their terrible family?

“Hey, look, I didn’t mean to – “

“Save it. Like I could ever be emotionally thrown by someone with the fashion sense and eyebags of a school shooter. Why don’t you get back to writing your sad manifesto before inevitably dying in complete anonymity?”

Jughead stepped back, the surprise clear on his face. However, he quickly masked the shock with disdain, a move so familiar to Cheryl it hurt. If she hadn’t been so mad at him, she would have complimented his compartmentalization speed.

“Whatever, Cheryl,” he grumbled, storming away.

She tried to return to her painting, but she was too shaken. Grabbing her bag, she bolted out the door and down the hall.

“Cheryl, wait!”

She paused, begrudgingly allowing Veronica to catch up with her.

“Let’s walk, shall we?” Veronica linked her arm through Cheryl’s, leading her away from the exit and deeper into the building. Her heels clicked against the tiles, echoing around the gallery as they walked. “What was that all about?”

Apparently, her rant at Jughead had been louder than she’d thought.

“Jughead needs to learn how to mind his own business. That’s all.” Cheryl shook her head, the anger still right beneath her skin. “He shouldn’t throw stones from his perfect glass house.”

“Now you know I’d normally let it slide if I thought you were wrong about something – “

“No, you wouldn’t.”

“No, I wouldn’t and neither would you. That’s what makes us such a good pair.” Veronica squeezed her arm. Cheryl ignored the obvious attempts at flattery, sensing there was a 'but’ coming. “But Jughead does not have a perfect life.”

“No?” Cheryl said, tone flat.

“His dad’s an alcoholic and his mom abandoned the family when he was young. She even took his little sister with her. Why do you think he spends all his time here?”

“I didn’t know – “

“Tabitha’s parents don’t approve of her dreams to be an entrepreneur. She wants to franchise her grandfather’s restaurant and they think that’s beneath her. We’ve been helping her pretend to be in law school for the past few years. Ethel’s parents are absolute monsters, don’t even get me started.”

There was a pregnant pause. “And you?”

Veronica sighed, stopping in front of one of Ethel’s paintings. She stared at it, her mind clearly miles away. “‘To live in this world, you must be able to do three things: to love what is mortal, to hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends on it – “ She heaved a sigh and Cheryl could feel its weight. “And, when the time comes to let it go, to let it go.’”

“That’s beautiful.” Cheryl’s tone was soft for once, a hushed awe appropriate for their surroundings.

“It’s from a poem by Mary Oliver. In Blackwater Woods.”

“Oh.”

“I read it at my father’s funeral.”

Cheryl turned sharply in surprise, pulling away. “You never told me that.”

Veronica shrugged. “Losing a loved one . . . it’s a very specific kind of pain, regardless of your relationship with them. And from the moment I first met you, I recognized that pain.”

Cheryl paused to take in Veronica, who hadn’t looked away from the painting. Her face remained neutral, but her eyes glistened. It was rare to see her friend so still and solemn. Cheryl was used to seeing her swaying on a dance floor or pounding shots or loudly joking with Tabitha until Jughead complained he couldn’t focus.

Apparently, there was more than one way to hide pain.

Blinking rapidly, Veronica visibly collected herself before leveling a look at Cheryl. “Do you want to talk about the boy in your painting?”

Cheryl’s chest lurched. She shook her head. Veronica reached out tentatively and took her hand.

“That’s okay. You don’t have to.” She gingerly looped her arm around Cheryl’s again, leading her back towards the exit. “I’m just saying: when my dad died, Tabitha was there for me. Ethel too. Even Jughead.” She bumped Cheryl with her hip teasingly. “Because I let them in.”

When they reached the doors, she stopped. “Let them in, Cheryl. It doesn’t have to be right now. Or even soon. But eventually, when you’re ready, we’ll be here.”

She leaned forward and Cheryl stiffened, thinking she was going to hug her. Instead, she put her hands on Cheryl’s shoulders and gave her their typical goodbye: an air-kiss on both cheeks. Veronica wasn’t much of a hugger, something Cheryl was equal parts grateful for and, in moments like these, devastated by.

Letting her hands run down Cheryl’s arms, she squeezed her hands before walking away.

The advice had been excellent – of course. As if Veronica would give anything less than excellent advice. Despite the heat, Cheryl felt a cold chill as she remembered the last time she saw Veronica and the rest of her Artists’ Alley friends.

“Cheryl, stop! What are you doing?” “Cheryl, please! Just come to the shore and we’ll figure this out together, okay?”

She shook herself free from the memory as the car rolled to a stop. They had reached Archie’s house.

The walk from the car to the house felt endless. A dark cloud hovered above the group and Cheryl knew she had put it there. No one was making eye contact.

“You didn’t tell me you were bringing friends!”

At the familiar voice, Cheryl’s heart lifted. At the top of the steps leading to the front door was Archie’s mom. It was like she had walked directly out of Cheryl’s best memories.

When their eyes met, she watched the older woman’s mouth part slightly in surprise.

“Cheryl? How long have you been in town? It’s so good to see you!”

“It’s good to see you too, Mrs. Andrews,” she said, forcing her words past the sudden lump in her throat.

The foursome made their way up the front steps. As the others were welcomed inside, Cheryl glanced back, scanning the block. At the corner of the street, the tall brick house sat: the former Blossom homestead.

It looked less foreboding, knowing other people lived there now.

“It was very kind of all of you to come,” Archie’s mom was saying, guiding them up the living room. “Is anyone interested in some sweet tea? I have a pitcher in the fridge.”

“Actually, water would – “ Cheryl started to say. Betty rolled her eyes in her periphery. “Sweet tea sounds good. Please.”

“Yeah, that sounds great, Mom.”

Cheryl sat on the couch, noting how everyone was completely spread out – Betty in the chair farthest from her, Toni at the other end of the couch, and Archie still standing awkwardly by the entryway.

Once Archie’s mom left for the drinks, a heavy silence descended. Cheryl glanced around the room, avoiding eye contact and, in doing so, didn’t realize the others were doing the same. The interior of the house was exactly as she remembered. Long buried memories tickled the back of her mind and she shoved them away.

“I think I’m gonna stay here,” Archie said, breaking the silence. Over the girls’ protests, he continued. “No, no, my mom needs help and I’m the one who forgot to fix the radio in the first place. You guys can keep my car and I’ll just see you at the cook-out tonight – “

“It’s not going to take that long, Archie,” Mrs. Andrews said as she returned. She passed out the glasses to the group. As she poured the sweet tea, she added, “Especially with your friends helping you.”

“But Mom – “

She gave him a look and he returned one of his own. They communicated silently through a series of expressions. Cheryl tried to follow their back-and-forth and her heart sank when she couldn’t.

It was no use. She’d been away too long.

Finally, Archie huffed a sigh. “Fine. But I’ll need my screwdriver and I left it at Betty’s house.”

“We could get it for you,” Cheryl interjected. “I mean, we’re all within walking distance.”

“No, we’re within walking distance,” Betty said, gesturing to Archie and herself. “You don’t live here anymore.”

Cheryl’s breath caught. For just a moment, she had forgotten everything – Jason, New York, the group’s current air of gloom. Seeing Archie, Betty, and Mrs. Andrews together, she’d been transported back to her middle school self.

Looking away, she bit the inside of her cheek. Her middle school self was long gone. She could never be that girl again.

“Okay,” Mrs. Andrews said. “Archie, why don’t you and Betty go – “ At the cringe her word evoked, she pivoted. “Why don’t you go work in the garage? Betty can go get the screwdriver with Cheryl – “ Another cringe. “With Toni. Cheryl can help me in the kitchen.”

“I can help Archie with the radio,” Cheryl offered.

“Oh, are you too good to help me bake all of a sudden?” Her tone was teasing, but Cheryl knew when she’d been outmaneuvered. She couldn’t push back without looking rude. And, if she was being honest with herself, she didn’t want to.

The four teens followed her instructions, Cheryl trailing after her into the kitchen.

“I was thinking about making brownies for the cook-out tonight. I know it’s not technically a potluck, but who turns down brownies, right?”

As she spoke, she started pulling bowls and ingredients out of the fridge and various cabinets. Cheryl watched helplessly, unsure of how to assist. With a jolt of surprise, she realized she was twisting her hands together, an old nervous tic she hadn’t caught herself doing in years.

Quickly putting her hands by her sides, she focused instead on the room around her. The Andrews’ kitchen was always so warm, especially in comparison to her own family’s.

When Mrs. Andrews caught her eyes, she nodded for her to come closer. From her place at the counter, Cheryl took in the woman’s short red hair and focused brown eyes, an image so familiar it made her ache.

“Okay, start whisking these eggs please.”

Cheryl cracked the eggs as she watched Mrs. Andrews mix the butter and the cocoa powder. When the adult looked up, she quickly glanced away, focusing on the sharp sound of her metal whisk hitting the side of the bowl.

Typically, the quiet kitchen and repetitive actions would ease her worries and loosen her tongue. At ten years old, Cheryl had accidentally opened up about her first crush, eyes darting up in terror only to see a face free of judgement. From then on, she spoke to the adult candidly: about little fights with Betty, bigger fights with her family, about how much she’d miss Jason once he went to college.

Cheryl paused, blinking back the tidal wave of emotions crashing at her walls. She refocused on the task at hand.

This time, she wouldn’t be swayed. She wasn’t about to pile on to this poor woman. She’d already caused enough trouble. Besides, she wasn’t sure if they were still as close as they once were. Maybe they’d never been close in the first place and Cheryl was just being egotistical, overestimating her role in someone else’s life. Maybe Mrs. Andrews hadn’t given her a second thought since she’d left.

“Originally, I was thinking about making corn bread or banana pudding pie. But I already had all the ingredients for this,” Mrs. Andrews said in a transparent attempt to fill the silence.

Cheryl hummed a response.

The older woman cracked open the tiny bottle of vanilla and, as the scent poured out, Cheryl felt herself relax slightly.

“Now, the recipe doesn’t call for this, but – “ Mrs. Andrews pulled out a bag of chocolate chips from the pantry. “I seem to remember you being a chocolate fiend. Is that still true?”

A small smile crossed Cheryl’s face as she nodded. The expression was immediately reflected back at her.

“I hoped so.”

Mrs. Andrews handed her the bag and the pair watched as the chips cascaded into the batter. Cheryl caught herself grinning.

“Skillful as always,” Mrs. Andrews complimented. “I’ve missed having you in my kitchen. I know you were busy making New York your oyster, but I’m glad you didn’t forget about us completely. And I hope you know you’re always welcome here.”

Cheryl’s hands stilled. Her walls were crumbling inside her and she bit her tongue, desperate to keep the floodwaters at bay. She could feel her face heating.

“Now for the salt.” Mrs. Andrews continued, seemingly oblivious to the internal battle happening a foot away. “Some people don’t add salt, but I think it’s the most important part. We’ve talked about this before, remember? You need a little salt, a little sharpness in the batter to make the sweet parts even sweeter.”

Cheryl nodded, not trusting her voice.

“So. Cheryl. How have you been? Really.”

A drop of water hit the counter by the mixing bowl. Mortified, Cheryl’s hand flew up to her face. She wanted to brush the adult’s questions off, but she couldn’t force words past the lump in her throat.

“Oh, Cheryl.”

Mrs. Andrews quickly traveled around the counter and Cheryl found herself wrapped in a familiar embrace. The smell of flour and perfume, the soft fabric of the adults’ apron, the feeling of a hand softly rubbing her back – it was all too much. She returned the hug, holding tightly, breath shuddering.

“They hate me.” The sentence was muffled, spoken directly into the adult’s shirt. Mrs. Andrews clucked her tongue.

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“You didn’t hear them.”

Their voices still echoed in her head. Toni had been so upset with her – a far cry from the shy smiles she remembered from years ago. And just when she was possibly changing Toni’s negative opinion of her, she went and did something that cemented it.

Archie’s words in the theater had been softer than Toni’s, but now that she’d snapped at him, she couldn’t imagine him extending kindness to her again. She wouldn’t if she were in his place.

And Betty. The distance between them felt like an ever-expanding ravine. And every time Cheryl thought about Betty’s sharp tone or her cold detachment, she felt like throwing herself into it.

She’d wrecked things long ago and every action since had only made things worse.

Classic Cheryl. Ruining everything she touched.

“I’m repulsive,” she whispered. Mrs. Andrews pulled back to look her in the eye.

“Hey now. No, you’re not. You’re a beautiful, talented young lady who leads with her heart and just maybe, every now and then, sticks her foot in her mouth.”

Cheryl let out a watery chuckle.

“But this is still fixable. Okay?”

She blinked. Mrs. Andrews was right. She could still fix this. And she knew exactly how to do it.

“We’re back!”

The pair heard the front door close as Betty and Toni returned. Cheryl quickly stepped back and wiped her eyes. Mrs. Andrews stepped in front of her, giving her a minute to collect herself as Toni walked in.

“We got the screwdriver,” she explained. “Betty went to give it to Archie. Need any help in here?”

“Actually – “ Mrs. Andrews began.

“I was thinking Betty and I could go to the next location together,” Cheryl said. “Alone. I just – I need to talk to her.”

At first, Toni seemed slightly miffed. But, glancing between Cheryl’s reddened eyes and Mrs. Andrews behind her, she nodded slowly, understanding.

“Okay.”

Cheryl felt Mrs. Andrews wrap an arm around her waist. She took a deep breath.

This was going to hurt.

Clue 4:

[I babble like a baby, the noise flowing from my mouth. I have no tongue and can only run, forever in my bed. What am I?]

Author’s Note: If you liked seeing Cheryl receive actual love and understanding from a parental figure, please check out ‘unfamiliar’ by Sparklez112. It’s incredible and the inspiration for my use of this completely underutilized duo. (Or you know, check out any of Sparklez112’s stories. They’re all masterpieces.)

Chapter Text

cw// for brief illusions made to Cheryl’s suicide attempt (nothing graphic or explicit)

Cheryl and Betty made their way through large trees, the air thick with the scent of pine. The temperature was finally starting to drop as a cool breeze blew through the surrounding branches. The sun was sliding towards the horizon, making long shadows stretch across the water. They could hear the gentle lapping of the waves before they saw them, the ground beneath their feet shifting from mossy dirt to smooth rocks.

Cheryl approached a large log near the shore and gingerly sat down. After a moment, Betty joined her.

“Cheryl, why did you drag me out here?”

Gathering her strength, Cheryl stared out across the river. Mrs. Andrews was right. She could fix this. She just had to start being honest for once.

So she took a deep breath. And she told Betty everything. She told her about Jason, about New York, about the Artists’ Alley kids. About every day being a blur at first but quickly turning into a constant pain, about looking for any excuse to leave the apartment, about how desperately she wanted to share all her experiences with her friends back home.

“Nothing felt real if I couldn’t share it with Jason or you. But Jason was gone. And reaching out to you meant admitting out loud that everything was really happening. That we weren’t coming back. So I just . . . didn’t.”

Betty was holding her hands in her lap, softly rubbing at her raw knuckles. Cheryl couldn’t gather the strength to look her in the eyes.

“It was easier to let myself be numb,” she continued. “But one day, I just couldn’t do it anymore.”

*

She was sitting at the kitchen table, staring blankly at her plate as she pushed the food around with her fork.

Nearby voices wrapped around her like a snake, pulling tighter and tighter. She did her best to tune them out, to force them into the muffled background noise she’d grown used to, but she didn’t have the energy.

“ – wasting your time with your silly sketches. Soon, you’ll settle down with a nice man – “

“You aren’t going to find a good man in that ‘Artists’ Alley’, I’ll tell you that much.”

“Cliff, what about Charles St. Clair? Doesn’t he have a son?”

“That’s a grand idea.”

Cheryl’s thoughts drifted. A picket fence house in the suburbs. Life as a domestic housewife. A husband’s wandering hands. No friends. No outlet. Existing as neither the sweet girl she’d been in Riverdale nor the HBIC of New York. Barely existing at all, her former selves buried underneath years of serving a man she could never love.

Bile burned the back of her throat. Her heart was going to beat out of her chest. She had to leave.

“Where are you going?”

“You get back here right now!”

She slammed the front door behind her and raced into the wind, unsure of her destination.

The streetlights were on, illuminating empty streets and shady looking strangers. She avoided eye contact as she sped down the sidewalk.

As she passed darkened window after darkened window, the adrenaline faded and fear started to creep in. Where did she think she was going? Every place nearby would be closed at this time of night. There was a sense of danger in the air and she felt like an idiot for rushing away without a plan.

She was just so tired.

She shivered in the harsh breeze. Her jacket had been hanging by the door, but she’d forgotten to grab it on her way out.

Such a moron. What had she been thinking?

The grief was a physical weight most days. She couldn’t put the pain in her chest aside.

She didn’t belong here. She’d never fully belong in New York. But she’d never belong in Riverdale ever again either. She could never be fully herself anywhere because half of her was gone.

Another harsh wind blew past and her eyes blurred. She stopped under a streetlight and pulled her phone out of her pocket. Bringing up her contacts list, she scrolled down to the Bs.

Her finger hovered over Betty’s name.

What could Betty possibly do in this situation? You ran away from her. You have no right to block her out and then burden her. She’s probably not even thinking about you. She’s done with you. Everyone is.

Her mind offered up memories of her artist friends, the warm feeling of being tucked away in the gallery’s back rooms, the calm of getting her emotions out through creating something.

She pushed the idea away, her face burning with shame. After the cruel, standoffish way she’d been acting, what right did she have to burden herself on them?

Veronica’s voice popped into her head.

“Let them in, Cheryl. It doesn’t have to be right now. Or even soon. But eventually, when you’re ready, we’ll be here.”

Making up her mind, she scrolled down to Veronica’s name and tapped on it. She could feel her heart beating in her throat as she typed. Once she was done, she pressed send and headed for the Hudson.

*

Cheryl shivered as a gust of wind blew by. Sweetwater River shimmered as the sun continued sinking towards the trees. The waves continued brushing against the shore. She was hyperaware of Betty’s presence at her side. The other girl hadn’t spoken or moved since they sat down.

“It was really stupid. If Veronica hadn’t put that tracker on my phone – “ She shook her head, pausing a moment to collect her thoughts. “I woke up in the hospital.”

*

“You scared the hell out of us.”

Cheryl blinked blearily. She could hear a steady beeping in the background. Veronica was sitting at her side, holding her hand.

“How are you feeling?”

Groaning, she sat up slightly. Tabitha was sitting at her other side, concern and sympathy in her eyes. Ethel and Jughead were standing at the foot of the bed.

“You all came.”

Veronica squeezed her hand. “Of course.”

“Cheryl Blossom!”

Her mother swept into the room. Pushing past Veronica, she put a hand on Cheryl’s shoulder.

“Your father’s handling the paperwork. We will discuss this further when we get back to the apartment.”

“We can take care of her, Mrs. Blossom.”

The adult turned and leveled the teenager with an icy look. “And you are?”

“I’m Veronica Lodge.” She put out a hand.

“A Lodge. Of course.”

“Cheryl’s staying with us.” Tabitha stood, putting a possessive hand on Cheryl’s arm.

“Nonsense.”

Weakly, Cheryl added, “You guys don’t have to – “

“You’re staying with us, Cheryl.” Jughead said firmly. He stared directly into her eyes, ignoring her mother completely.

“Now I think it’s time for you to leave.” Ethel appeared on Penelope’s other side. She nodded to Jughead, who slung an arm around the adult and started firmly escorting her to the door.

Her hand fell from Cheryl’s shoulder. “How dare you? I am her mother. Unhand me!”

Over the yelling in the hallway, Ethel quietly added, “My house is also available, if you’d prefer.”

“Mine too,” Veronica said with a wink.

Cheryl felt her face heat as she started to tear up. Standing quickly, Veronica wrapped her into a hug.

*

Back at Sweetwater River, Cheryl shook her head, smiling at the memory. With a small sigh, she said, “Of course that couldn’t last. Legally, my parents are my guardians. They banned everyone else from visiting and, when I was discharged, essentially locked me in my room.”

*

“ – and so incredibly selfish! Don’t think I don’t see through this manipulative display for attention.”

About two weeks had passed. Cheryl was lying on her bed, listening to her mother berate her through the door.

The abuse would come in waves. Silence would fill the apartment, but her body stayed tense, knowing at any moment, one of her parents could come storming in, furious and yelling like no time had passed at all.

“ – an incredibly heartless act. We just lost a son and you go and do this! You are making this all about yourself.”

After months of denying his existence, her parents were finally talking about Jason. It was what she had so desperately wanted for months. She could have laughed.

“ – and if not for the fact that no one would have you, I’d be shipping you off to a boarding school in Europe tonight.”

Once she heard her mother finally storm away, she grabbed her phone from the bedside table. Ignoring multiple missed calls and texts from her friends, she opened up her contacts list.

*

“And you called me.”

Cheryl jumped. She’d almost forgotten Betty had been listening.

“Yes. And I talked my parents into letting me come here for a visit. Admittedly, it didn’t take much convincing.” Breathing in the pine-scented air, she marveled at how far she’d come. “From the moment I got here, I’ve been bombarded with memories. But now I’m realizing . . . maybe that’s why I came back. Deep down, I didn’t want to block it all out anymore.”

A silence settled, broken only by the lapping of the waves and chirping birds. Gathering her courage, she glanced up at Betty’s face. The other girl’s ice blue eyes were blank as she stared out across the water, but her cheeks were wet.

“I knew,” Betty said in a steady voice. “I knew something was wrong when you left.”

Cheryl shrugged, not sure what to say.

“And then the radio silence. I was scared. But my parents . . . they were angry. You know how my parents are. They wouldn’t believe that I didn’t know any more about you moving away than they did. They were so sure you were still texting me and I was lying about it. So they became even more overbearing, following me everywhere I went. The bathroom became the only place I could take a few seconds to breathe and be by myself. It became the only time I had to think about why you left. Hence -”

She gestured vaguely with her injured hands. After a second of confusion, Cheryl’s eyes widened, the realization hitting her like lightning.

“When you zone out washing your hands . . . you’re thinking about me? And trying to figure out why I left?”

Betty hesitated, then nodded.

Cheryl remembered the soothing repetitive movements involved in cooking with Mrs. Andrews. Those were the only moments she could relax and let her mind go blank. She understood how someone could get lost in it.

“It’s just –“ Betty sniffled, then cleared her throat. “You left so suddenly and completely cut me off. I figured there had to be more to it. So I looked your family up online every day. And over time, I found things. Jason’s obituary. An article about your dad’s new job in the city. I was able to narrow things down to the general area where you must have been staying. Then I looked for places you might go – New York Fashion Week, high profile book signings, art installations. I followed a bunch of strangers’ social media until – “

“You found me.”

A cold wind came in off the water, whipping at their hair and making their eyes tear up.

“That’s why you weren’t surprised,” Cheryl said quietly. “You already knew.”

“Jughead posted about – “ She glanced over at Cheryl, afraid to say the words. “I mean, it was vague, but I could read between the lines.”

“He really puts everything on his stupid blog, doesn’t he?” Cheryl said with a watery chuckle.

She moved closer and took Betty’s hand, lacing their fingers together. Her knuckles were rough and she squeezed the hand tightly. Betty’s head came to rest on her shoulder and the pair sat like that for a while, taking in the view.

“You did all that work,” Cheryl said in a small voice. “For me?”

“Of course. You’re family.”

Cheryl could feel tears rolling down her cheeks. She pulled Betty into a tight hug. It felt like coming home. “I missed you so much.”

Betty’s grip tightened around her, as if she was afraid Cheryl might disappear as soon as she let go. “I missed you too.”

“Betty!”

The pair separated to see Archie racing towards them. Toni trailed slightly behind.

“Archie?” Betty stood as he stopped in front of her.

“So I was working on the radio with Toni and I was thinking about what Cheryl said – “

“I’m really sorry,” Cheryl cut in. “I shouldn’t have – “

“No, no! You were completely right.” Stepping towards Betty, he took her hands. “Betty, I’ve been so stupid for so long. I’ve loved you from the first moment I saw you. There hasn’t been a second when I haven’t felt this way.”

“Archie,” Betty breathed, awed.

“There was a moment last year when we were working on my jalopy together and we were laughing at something dumb I’d said and I realized that I wanted every day of my life to be like that. I’ve loved you my whole life. And I really hope you feel the same way.”

“O-of course I do!”

Archie’s face split into a wide grin. “Really?”

Betty laughed. “Of course!”

His loud whoop echoed as he picked her up in his arms and spun her around. Cheryl beamed and wiped her cheeks as Toni sidled up next to her.

“Are you okay?” the smaller girl asked gingerly.

Cheryl watched Archie and Betty kiss in front of the river as the sun met the horizon, turning the sky into brilliant shades of reds and yellows. The water reflected the colors back, distorted but somehow even more beautiful.

She felt lighter than she had in years.

“I am.”

Clue 5:

[The Heart of the Town]

Chapter Text

Pop’s diner was bustling.

As soon as Cheryl stepped through the door, she felt the familiar sensation of transporting back in time. This time, she decided to embrace the feeling, taking in the bright red and white booths, the shiny counters, and the large neon signs covering the walls. Over the din of the crowd, she could just barely make out the twangy guitars of Dolly Parton’s ‘Two Doors Down’ through the ancient speakers. The place smelled like burgers and fries and was brimming with camaraderie.

“Let’s sit in the back,” Betty said, leading Archie forward. The pair hadn’t let go of each other’s hands since they’d left the river. Toni and Cheryl followed, sliding into the seat across from them.

The air was thick with excitement. People around them animatedly talked about the treasure hunt and who they thought might have won. Cheryl had abandoned the search, as had the rest of the group, but watching Betty and Archie openly mooning over each other, she realized she had no regrets.

“Milkshakes anyone?” Pop Tate asked as he approached the booth. Cheryl’s heart lifted.

“Pop!”

“My oh my, is that Cheryl Blossom? When did you get back in town?”

“Just recently.”

“How long are you sticking around for?”

“Oh . . . “ She glanced at Betty, who nodded encouragingly. “I don’t know yet.”

“Well, it’s very good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too.”

After everyone ordered, the group fell into a comfortable silence. The sky outside the window was growing dark and, in the distance, Cheryl could see the twinkling lights set up in the town square. As was tradition, after milkshakes at Pops, the hunt would end with the reveal of the winner, followed by a potluck and live music. She couldn’t wait.

Glancing around the rest of the diner, memories flooded her mind. This time however, she decided she was done pushing them away.

“Jason and I spent a lot of time here as kids,” she said. “He preferred to come in the morning before school when it was quiet. We’d complete the homework we hadn’t finished the night before or do some extra studying. He loved the hashbrowns here. He’d always order double.”

“What was his flavor of choice?”

Cheryl glanced up at Archie, surprised. She’d been lost in the memory. “Oh. Strawberry. Same as mine.”

He nodded. “Good taste.”

She shook her head, knowing he was only saying that to be kind. After a pause, he continued.

“One time, right before one of our big games, Jason refused to go out onto the field. Apparently, one of the other guys called Dilton a – “ He caught himself. “A slur. And Jason wouldn’t leave the locker room until the guy apologized.”

Cheryl smiled, touched. Her heart was bursting. “I didn’t know that.”

Archie shrugged. “He was a good guy.”

“That he was.”

Thank God for dear Archie Andrews.

“So what’s your plan? Like, are you going to go back to New York?”

“Archie!” Betty lightly hit his arm. To Cheryl, she said, “You don’t have to decide that right now.”

“I don’t know where I’ll go yet.”

“Well, there’s no rush. And I know all your New York friends would happily take you in, but I hope you know you’re always welcome at our house if you decide to stay.”

“Or mine.” Toni nudged her shoulder.

“Obviously, my mom would be down.” Archie said. “Heck, she’d be so excited, she’d probably move me into the spare room.”

“Like I’d ever sleep in your room,” Cheryl said. “It smells like boy.”

He laughed.

More seriously, she added, “Besides, I’ve been down this road before. My parents are my legal guardians. They’d never let me leave.”

“Have you ever thought about emancipation?” The table turned to Toni, who shrugged. “What? A lot of my friends have done it.”

Cheryl took a deep breath. It was a crazy thought. No way could she do that. But she was unwilling to completely close the door on the idea.

Attempting to remain neutral, she said, “It would be nice to have a clean slate.”

Betty’s eyes widened. “Maybe not completely clean. I just remembered – I might have some things of yours in my attic.” She lowered her voice and the table leaned in. “When I saw the For Sale sign go up, I may have broken into your house and stolen a few things.”

“Betty Cooper!” Cheryl gasped. She was immediately shushed.

“My parents don’t know what I did or where I stashed it, so just be cool when we get home, alright?”

“What did you take?”

“As much as I could carry without drawing too much attention to myself. I mean, if I looked too much like a thief in the night, the neighbors would have called the cops.”

“You were a thief in the night,” Archie pointed out.

“But I know I got about half a dozen sketchbooks, a few of Jason’s old trophies, that old cookbook of yours, a lot of clothes – “

She paused at Cheryl’s sharp inhale. The redhead reached across the table. “Thank you.”

Betty took her hand and squeezed it lightly. “Of course.”

Pop arrived at the table with their drinks, bursting the bubble the group had found themselves in. When Betty received hers, she took the cherry off the top and placed it on Cheryl’s shake. Archie did the same. After a moment, Toni sighed, doing her best to act put-upon.

“Fine.” She placed her own cherry with the others.

Cheryl’s eyes filled with grateful tears. Betty laughed.

“You’re so sensitive,” she teased.

Archie picked up his shake – strawberry, Cheryl noted – and held it up. “To Jason.”

The sentiment was echoed and Cheryl quietly wiped away tears as the group clinked their glasses together.

The conversation turned to the upcoming potluck. Apparently, the live music would be provided by a local band and Toni knew a few of the members. Cheryl let herself get lost in the joy of the moment. Surrounded by friends. The taste of her strawberry milkshake on her tongue. The familiar sounds of the buzzing neon sign and faint country music and Betty laughing at something Archie had said.

It was all so beautiful. She was overflowing with love.

Pulling out her phone, she decided to send some of that love to someone who deserved it. After a moment, she got a response.

[Veronica: You’re in Riverdale? That’s where Tabitha’s from! Small world.]

[Veronica: Ethel and Jughead have spent the last three days arguing about which medium is better for the story he’s writing – film or comics. Tabitha won’t let me lock them out of the gallery.]

Cheryl chuckled.

[Veronica: We miss you.]

[Cheryl: I miss you guys too.]

[Veronica: Of course you do. We’re a delight.]

“What are you smiling at?”

Cheryl looked up from her phone to see Betty grinning at her. “Just a text from one of the Artists’ Alley kids.”

“What’s Artists’ Alley?” Toni asked.

“Oh Toni, you would love them! Archie, you and my dearest Jay-Jay probably would not have, what with you both being sporty Neanderthals – said with love, obvi! Although, as I recall, you do have a poet’s soul. As for you, Betty, my sweet cousin, I’m torn. On the one hand – “

The conversation continued, warmth and laughter and memories creating a cocoon around the booth. When the milkshakes were finished, the foursome ventured out into the warm night. The air had cooled, the night breezes allowing a reprieve from the blistering heat of the day. The group walked to the town square where the festivities had already begun.

Purple and red decorations had been woven around the twinkle lights and strung up in the trees and along the lampposts. Groups of people milled about, some carrying plates of food or holding popsicles. A few people had set out picnic blankets and were laying in the grass, chatting with friends. The band was warming up on the stage. Grills had been set up around the perimeter and the smell of cooking meat filled the air. Tables were weighted down with trays of mac and cheese, pasta salad, and all kinds of casseroles. Large round coolers held soda, water, and sweet tea. At the end of one of the tables, Cheryl spotted Mrs. Andrews’ brownies amongst a pile of baked goods.

The group got their food and found an empty space in the grass to sit. As they enjoyed their meals, Cheryl glanced around at her friends and her heart warmed.

The surrounding conversations quieted as the mayor walked out onto the stage.

“Is everyone having a good evening?”

The crowd shouted their agreement.

“Fantastic! Well, it’s time to reveal the winner of the treasure hunt. After tallying the points, we’re pleased to announce that ‘Pure Southside Style’ has won the hunt!”

The crowd cheered as Fangs, Sweet Pea, and a person Cheryl didn’t recognize took to the stage.

“Were we supposed to name our team?” Archie wondered as they applauded.

“Whoo! Go Peaches!” Toni shouted.

“Please accept this fifty dollar savings bond and our sincere congratulations!” the mayor said, handing Fangs a piece of paper. He took it and held it above his head, a cheesy grin on his face. As the team walked back to their seats, the mayor addressed the crowd. “Now let’s give it up for our opening act!”

Three girls in leather jackets and cat ears began playing an upbeat song. The people closest to the stage began dancing to the music. Still full up with a sense of euphoria (and perhaps a bit of adrenaline from the sweet tea), Cheryl put her plate down and got to her feet. She held a hand out to Toni.

“Come along. Let’s see your moves.”

Toni grinned up at her. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Grabbing Cheryl’s hand, she lifted herself up and followed her to the stage.

Butterflies were attacking Cheryl’s stomach and she was starting to worry she’d used up all her courage on asking Toni to dance. But when she turned, she couldn’t help smiling at the smaller girl’s bright eyes and eager smile. Letting the music swirl around them, the pair danced like two teenagers who were happy to be alive.

*

“That was fun.”

“It was.”

The night had finally come to a close. During the fireworks, Betty had moved into Archie’s lap and he’d wrapped his arms around her waist. Cheryl had allowed herself to move closer to Toni. The smaller girl reflected her actions until they were pressed against each other’s sides.

Once the fireworks ended and everyone started heading out, Archie and Betty had cuddled up together on a park bench, content to stay behind for a while. Toni had offered to walk Cheryl home and, once again, Cheryl felt like she’d traveled back in time.

“I’m glad you decided to join us.”

Toni smiled to herself. “Me too.”

A chorus of crickets underscored the heavy pounding of Cheryl’s heart. Nerves choked her words as she searched for something to say. Holding her self-doubt at bay took a lot of strength and she was exhausted. Maybe Toni didn’t like her the way she wanted her to. Maybe the fact that she couldn’t think of anything to say was a bad sign and they didn’t have as much in common as she thought.

Then again, maybe she didn’t need words.

Without slowing her pace, she reached out and took Toni’s hand, lacing their fingers together. The butterflies returned tenfold. Her heart was racing. Suddenly, she felt Toni squeeze her hand. Risking a glance, she saw a toothy grin spread across the smaller girl’s face. When large brown eyes met hers, she realized she was wearing the same expression.

Certain she was blushing, she focused her attention on her surroundings. The sky was dark blue and littered with stars. The trees and rooftops around them looked black, silhouetted against the sky. Square windows of yellow light shone into front yards, illuminating the lives inside – a man standing at his sink washing dishes, a woman chasing after a toddler, someone bathed in the flickering blue light of a television. The vignettes played out and she took a deep breath, overwhelmed with love for these people she didn’t know.

Surely, these same moments were playing out across the globe. Regardless of location or language, at heart, all humans were generally the same – scared and hurting and loving and kind. There would always be dishes to do and art to create and friends to protect her and people to love.

The realization took her breath away: as long as she could find people, she could find love. She could find home anywhere she went.

Closing her eyes briefly, she sent a quick wish into the universe: I hope Jason experienced this realization too.

Finally reaching the Cooper house, the pair paused at the front steps. Their hands remained linked, neither wanting to let go.

“You were right,” Cheryl said. “About appreciating the small stuff.”

Toni smiled and Cheryl’s heart skipped a beat. “Oh yeah?”

She might have been mistaken, but she could have sworn she saw Toni’s eyes dart down to her lips. Her old Riverdale self would have found an excuse to hide. Her old New York self would have masked her insecurities with a barbed insult.

She pushed both instincts aside to lean in and kiss her.

“Wow,” Toni breathed when the pair pulled away. “That was – “

“I know.” Cheryl squeezed her hand before regretfully letting go. “See you tomorrow?”

Toni grinned. “See you then, beauty queen.”

She watched the smaller girl walk away, cheeks hurting from smiling so much. For the first time in years, she found herself excited for tomorrow. There was just so much to look forward to. And she wasn’t going to waste a second.