AN – Wrote another parents in high school fic (How We Got Here) midseason that I was really excited for. However, the canon kind of got ruined in the next episode that aired, so I never finished it. Here's my second attempt.
Summary – Alice loses her jacket at a party and starts spiraling out of control. Mild Alice/FP. Parents in high school fic.
Shifting
Contrary to popular belief, the two of them had only ever kissed once.
Bonfires at Sweetwater River were usually put to rest around Halloween in Riverdale. By November, the river was typically frozen over and the weather far too cold to party outside, even with the warming aid of oversized fires and illegally obtained beer. Winter parties depended entirely on parents going out of town and trusting their doting teenagers to not wreak havoc in their quaint suburban homes.
The weekend in question had Mary Taylor as the lucky winner of the parent lottery, her family off visiting friends in Cleveland. Alice Smith now sat on her knees on Mary's bed, digging through the coats thrown across the pale yellow bedspread. When she had first arrived at the party, a tipsy Hermione Nichols had greeted her and Hal Cooper at the door, as if it was her own party, and informed them all coats and jackets were to be placed strictly on Mary's bed. She had then leaned in between the two of them and whispered loudly, "Because Mary will flip her shit if she catches people fucking in her room." With a shrill giggle and a wink, she had pushed them along and opened the front door again to scope out more party goers.
It was later now. Much later. Alice guessed at least three hours had passed, but she'd drank enough that she couldn't even see the alarm clock on Mary's bedside table six feet away. Hal was normally the one who'd kept her in check at parties, made her remember that she barely weighed 100 pounds and couldn't drink the football team under the table like she claimed fame to. But she had lost Hal minutes into the party and thought Carpe diem! She'd go out of her way to have fun without him.
That was until now. She realized with regret, sprawled out on her classmate's bed, that she was down a boyfriend, a ride, and a jacket. She'd have to walk all the way to the Southside from Mary's home on the outskirts of town, drunk and likely to freeze half to death with no protection from the brisk November air.
That fucking jacket. She knew Hal hated it, but she had worn it tonight regardless. She told herself at the time it simply matched her outfit, but she wondered if she did it subconsciously to get a rise out of him. It had been her favorite article of clothing, once upon a time. Now she favored the letterman jacket she'd earned this year making varsity track. Hal liked that jacket. His parents liked that jacket. The Coopers had beamed at her with a pride her own father had never shown when she pranced through their house with it on the first day of junior year. The fact that their son's trashy Southside girlfriend could succeed at something besides selling nickel and dime bags to cheerleaders was points in her favor.
But tonight was a party and you didn't wear your varsity jacket to a party. It wasn't quite cold enough to pull out the turquoise peacoat Mrs. Cooper had gifted her on her last birthday ("If I didn't know any better, I'd think your mom was trying to Eliza Doolittle me," she muttered to Hal with an eye roll. Mrs. Cooper loved to give Alice clothes she could never afford otherwise), so the worn leather jacket it had been.
Her dad gave it to her in eighth grade. The brown leather really not so different from the black one he wore himself, minus the snake logo on the back. It was her 14th birthday and she didn't know better than to cherish something that reminded her of her dad, marked her as his daughter. She felt the world around her shift when she first put it on. When she started high school a few months later, he explained to her that she had to start taking more responsibility around the house, start earning her keep. "Befriend the cheerleaders, the girls," he had told her. "They'll feel more comfortable buying from you than one of my other guys in the school."
She didn't question him back then. How could she? If her father wanted her to sell weed in the high school, that's what she'd do. She started her freshman year with several upperclassmen already paying her the utmost respect, knowing full well that she was Rodger Smith's little girl. She spotted juniors and seniors that she knew worked for her father. They'd nod at her in the hall and she felt powerful.
Befriending girls proved to be a bigger challenge. She had never had many close girlfriends, preferring to hang out with boys. Since middle school, she had stuck with FP Jones and Fred Andrews. Things were easier with boys. They gave her shit, and she served it right back. It was simple.
Her friendship with FP was based around convenience. They lived in the same run down two-family house on the Southside of town. The Jones's owned it and rented out the second floor to her and her dad. While Alice knew the Jones's weren't fond of Rodger and his dealings with the local gang, they would never kick them out. Even if he spent half his time drunk, with people coming and going at all hours, Rodger was a single father who paid his rent on time. Plus, Eleanor and Forsythe Jones liked Alice, calling her the "daughter they never had." Alice learned how to take care of herself at a young age, but rarely turned the Jones's down when they offered her a hot meal or an ear to listen. Whenever Alice did turn down their hospitality, Eleanor would smile and assure her, "Don't worry, sweetheart. You'll make it up to us one day when you marry our son," earning eye rolls from both kids.
But things shifted.
One day, halfway through freshman year, Alice burst into laughter in English class. They were on the last act of The Tragedy of Julius Caesar when Fred asked aloud, "Caesar was a real person? I thought this was fiction." It wasn't particularly funny, and she knew half of Fred's comment came from the joint she had rolled for him at lunch, but she'd been unable to control herself. In a matter of seconds, her laughter had infected the entire class. Even their teacher had to wipe a tear from the corner of her eye.
"Yes, Mr. Andrews," Ms. Fletcher said as she blotted her eye with a tissue as the class settled down. "While the play is a work of fiction, Julius Caesar was most certainly a real historical figure. This is exactly why you were supposed to read the foreword in your book. Are we okay, Miss Smith? Do you need to step outside to control yourself?"
Alice shook her head and bit her lip, holding back the last of her giggles. She felt something graze her hair and she turned around in her seat with a start. Hal Cooper, with his mouth open and hand extending towards her, sat right behind her. Giggles resided, she raised her eyebrow at him. "Yes?"
He put his hand down and gulped. "Your laugh is enchanting."
Before she could come up with a sharp quip, her face flushed. She couldn't hold it in and she giggled again. Hal Cooper was quiet guy and mostly kept to a small group of friends. Although he and Alice had gone to school together for as long as she remembered, that was the first time she ever truly looked at him.
Shift.
When they started dating, she made Hal sit with her during lunch, providing a bridge between him and her friends. It wasn't that Hal couldn't get along with the likes of FP and Fred. They were plenty civil to one another; they simply came from different worlds. Fred and FP played football, were loud, smoked behind the school. Hal worked on the school paper and yearbook. He was uptight and followed rules to a tee. Alice promised she'd loosen him up. She brought him to parties, pushing the occasional beer into his hands. She made him laugh. They could be themselves around each other. One day, she pointed out to him, his posture was slack and he smiled more. Not just at her, but at the world.
Eventually, they were eating lunch in the newspaper office every day, him pointing out what a great writer she was and convincing her to join. She started running track sophomore year, also under Hal's influence. "Colleges love extracurriculars," he said and she almost teared up. Someone actually believed she had the potential to go to college.
Hal knew about the weed, of course. Alice was sure the entire school did. She went to her father days before sophomore year started and told him she didn't want to deal anymore. If it was about the money, she'd find a weekend job, something that wouldn't interfere with track practice or the newspaper. For the first time ever, he raised his hand and slapped her.
"Your preppy boyfriend doesn't want you helping your old man out?" he asked. She felt tears welling up, but she bit the inside of her mouth to hold them in. She resisted the urge to reach up and rub her cheek. "You're a game to him, Allie. A challenge. See how much he can change you before he ditches you for some rich bitch from the other side of town. You're just some Southside slut to him. An easy lay all his friends already know about. Not like you're probably much to brag about."
She went down the back steps and sat in a plastic lawn chair in the small yard, finally letting the tears flow. After a few minutes, she heard a low whistle and saw FP in the doorway, gesturing for her to come inside.
"I don't want your parents to see me," she muttered.
"They're not home. Come on."
He led her into the living room of the first floor apartment. Although identical in layout, it felt much more like a home than upstairs. They sat on the couch together and he pulled her into a sideways hug.
"Was that the first time?" he asked cautiously.
She nodded into his shoulder. "He's never hit me before, I swear. I'm just sick of it. Doing his dirty work."
"And this isn't because Hal doesn't want you to sell anymore?"
Her body stiffened under his embrace and she pulled away a bit to look him in the eye. "Jesus, no. Hal doesn't tell me what to do."
FP pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, a smile playing on his lips. "Nah, Allie. You tell him what to do, right?"
"Damn straight."
"I'm going to talk to your dad. Stay here."
"No," she pulled away from him entirely, untucking the hair behind her ear. "He's drunk and I just put him in a mood. You want to piss him off more?"
"I'm going to offer to work for him."
Alice glared at him. "Like hell you are."
"I am. He just wants people in the high school, doesn't have to be you."
"FP, you're being –"
"Hey, I need a job anyway. You just push everyone in my direction. Everyone wins."
"Your parents –"
"Won't find out. How would they?"
Sophomore year, things became easier at school. During the day, she and Hal worked with their small team on the Blue and Gold. After school, she ran and felt freer than she ever had as she whipped around the track. On weekends, she worked in the library downtown during the day and spent most evenings at the Cooper residence. Every so often, someone tried to push a ten dollar bill into her pocket and she pointed them in FP's direction.
Home was another story. Things had shifted.
Alice and her dad had always been close, what with her mom passing away in childbirth. All they had ever had was each other, but the rift that began over the summer grew. FP took over her spot in the school selling weed, but her dad wasn't satisfied. He felt betrayed and wanted to make her suffer. He didn't need to hit her again; he found other ways.
"Throw a dress on a snake, it's still a snake," her dad sung after her one night as she went out in a new dress Mrs. Cooper gifted to her, claiming it didn't fit her daughter Gertrude right. An obviously lie, since Gertie had four inches and thirty pounds on Alice.
"Right, Dad," Alice said cheerfully, grabbing the door handle. "See you later."
"Just make sure he wraps it up. Last thing I need is you moping around here because you got yourself knock up."
She slammed the door behind her. Home stopped being their small apartment. Home was with the Coopers. Home was Hal.
She was fourteen months into verbal abuse when she found the leather jacket crumbled up in the back of her closet while looking for a pair of shoes. She tossed it on her bed and threw on a skirt and blouse. Something about the brown leather against her beige shirt called to her. She heard Hal honking outside and ran downstairs without a word to her dad, jacket still in hand. She stopped on the small porch to pull it on. FP was leaning against the railing, smoking a cigarette.
She held up a finger to Hal, parked in the street, signaling that she'd be another minute. "You need a ride to Mary's?" she asked.
"Nah," FP answered, not looking at her. "Don't know if I'll make it tonight."
"You? Miss a party? Never thought I'd see the day."
He shrugged and took a long pull off his cigarette. "I have some deliveries to make."
Alice shifted uncomfortably. "For my dad?"
"What do you think?"
Things had shifted between them too. They had been inseparable as kids. Even early in high school. The older they got, the more they felt like neighbors rather than friends. She couldn't remember the last time they'd been alone together, or actually hung out.
"Come with us," she pleaded. "It'll be fun."
"I'm no third wheel."
"No, you're a friend. Do what you want once you get there."
He stood up to his full height and looked her up and down. "Get lost, Alice. Go off with your boyfriend."
She put her hands on her hips. "What's eating you?"
"Nothing's eating me. Go to the party."
"Whatever," she called back, already flouncing down the porch stairs to Hal's car.
The car ride was tense and Alice couldn't figure out why. ("Is everyone in a shit mood today?" she asked. Hal stared at the road.) For a moment, she wondered if it was how she'd kept him waiting while she talked to FP, but Hal wasn't the jealous type. He knew they grew up in the same house and when people joked about Alice and FP ending up together, he knew it was no more than that. A joke.
It wasn't until they were at the party, drunk Hermione only feet behind them, that Hal demanded she take off her leather jacket. There it was.
"It's cold in here," Alice insisted, arms crossed. She already felt herself sweating in the heated foyer of Mary's house, but she was standing her ground. "I think I'll keep it on."
"Have a drink, you'll warm up," Hal said. He kept his voice low, but quite a few people were already watching them.
"Oh, I'll have plenty of drinks, but the jacket stays."
"It –"
"It's a fucking jacket," Alice said, stressing each syllable.
"If it's just a jacket, take it off."
"I don't want to take it off!"
"God, Alice. Calm down. You sound crazy."
"Crazy? You think this is me being crazy?"
She pushed past him, but he took her by the arm and spun her back around. She met his eyes and saw something of an apology there.
"Please Alice," he whispered pleadingly. But it was too late. Alice Smith was stubborn and finished everything she ever started, even if what she started was causing a scene. She ripped her arm away from him and walked to the kitchen, grabbing the first plastic cup she saw right out of someone's hands and chugging it. It earned her a cheer from the crowded room. When she peaked back in the foyer after two beers, Hal was nowhere to be seen. She abandoned her leather jacket in Mary's room, her body temperature far too raised as a result of the argument and the alcohol now running through her blood. She went back to the kitchen for a third beer, and a fourth beer. Then she lost count.
It wasn't until Alice threw up in the downstairs bathroom that she decided it was probably time to stop. If Hal was with her, she'd only be nursing her second drink, if that. Her devil-may-care attitude faded quickly when the realization that she lacked a ride home set in and she thought about the long walk ahead of her. She went to Mary's room to find her leather jacket was no longer on the bed. She dug, shoving other coats around and still couldn't find it.
Tears welled up in her eyes as she fell back, sitting on her knees on Mary's bed. She was never an emotional drunk, but the idea of walking all the way home, cold and alone, pushed her to the limit.
"Allie?" a voice called from the doorway. Alice couldn't remember if she had closed the door behind her or not, but she knew the voice right away. The only person who called her by the childhood nickname besides her dad.
"Go away, FP," she muttered, wiping tears away with her wrinkled blouse. She wondered if he had some six sense, always showing up when she was at her most vulnerable.
"You okay?" He closed the door behind him and slowly walked towards the bed.
"Do I look okay?" she asked, voice cracking.
"What happened?" He came within arm's length. She looked him up and down before meeting his eyes.
"You did not wear your varsity jacket to a party," she said, dumbfounded. Her hands had a mind of their own as they reached out slowly, each one grabbing either side of the open jacket. FP took a step forward so she wouldn't have to reach out so far and Alice broke their stare to watch her fingers caress the buttons. It felt good to have something else to focus on.
"I can't help it if I look so good in it."
"You sell weed in your varsity jacket? You moron…"
"Hey," he reached out and tapped her chin up lightly so their eyes met. She tried pulling her hands off the jacket but couldn't do it. "How else can I look inconspicuous? No one suspects the guy in the varsity jacket."
"Or everyone does. Moron." Were the buttons on her jacket this smooth too?
"What are you doing up here? Why are you falling to pieces on a pile of coats?"
Her gaze fell back down to her hands. "I lost my leather jacket."
"Big loss. I didn't think you even wore it anymore."
"I wore it tonight."
"It was old. And it's a ten minute drive home. You won't freeze."
"I… was going to walk. I lost Hal."
FP raised his eyebrow. "You lost him? He's a big guy. He can't be hard to find."
"No one's talking about our fight?"
"Believe it or not, not everyone gives a shit when Riverdale High's it couple getting into a fight. Disappointed?"
"No, just… maybe I didn't make as big of a scene as I thought I did. I thought I embarrassed myself."
"Hmmm, well Hermione might have mentioned you two were fighting."
"So you did hear about it?"
"Had to bring your ego down a bit. Plus, you're not embarrassed. Nothing embarrasses you."
"Everything embarrasses me."
"Alice Smith is unapologetically herself at any and all times," he whispered. She looked up and noticed his bloodshot eyes.
"You're stoned. Really stoned."
"And you're drunk. Really drunk."
"Well, you're… you're wrong. I'm always embarrassed. Like, what the hell am I even doing here?"
"At a party?"
"At Mary fucking Taylor's house. I'm not friends with girls like Mary. Mary doesn't even like me. I'm just some trashy Southside girl."
He tapped her chin up again so she'd meet his gaze, but this time his hand lingered. His hand on her chin, her fingers still on his jacket. "Hal call you that?"
She glared at him but didn't push his hand away. "Only in the throes of passion."
He rolled his eyes "I don't want to imagine you two in the throes of anything, thanks."
Alice kept their gazes locked. "Jealous?"
He ran his thumb against her chin. "Hal really say that?"
"No." Her voice was a whisper now. "I'm saying that."
"Well, I'm some trashy Southside kid too and I think I belong here."
"You do belong here. You're popular, you're a football star."
"Fuck Allie. You think you're not popular? You can't walk into a room without all eyes turning to you. Your presence alone demands attention."
She shook her head and he grabbed her chin between his fingers. His hand should have felt weird so close to her face and she couldn't figure out why it didn't. "I should stick to my own type, my own people. I don't belong at places like this."
"No, you don't belong where you're from. Neither of us do. We're better than the shitty old Southside."
"I don't deserve a guy like Hal."
His voice was barely audible. "Then who do you deserve, Allie?"
She gave him the smallest nod and his lips were on hers in an instant. She let the impact of the kiss take her over and she fell back against the pile of discarded coats, never taking her hands from his jacket. He placed his hands on either side of her on the mattress, leaning into her body. When his tongue ran against her mouth, she opened. And when he broke their kiss and whispered, "Oh God, Allie," against her neck, she didn't protest. It wasn't until the sob broke through that FP torn himself away from her neck and looked at her freshly tear-struck face in horror.
"Oh my God," he said climbing off her. "Are you okay? I didn't – I thought you wanted –"
She shook her head and sat up. "No, you didn't… you didn't do anything wrong. It's me." She pulled her legs up to her body and hugged them. "I don't know. I thought I'd be different, feel different, kissing you. Like there's been this build up my whole life of us being together and maybe if it actually happened… it'd be what I wanted."
FP sighed. "And it wasn't."
Alice gulped back another sob. "No. It wasn't. No fireworks. Not even a spark. You?"
"I don't know if I've ever felt any of that."
"You're missing out. It's an amazing feeling."
"You feel that with Hal?"
Alice nodded. "I'm sorry."
FP shook his head. "It's just that a little part of me always thought… I always thought it'd be you and me. Us against the world. Escape the Southside with our athletic charm and concur Riverdale."
"It is us against the world. Just not like that."
"Right." He sighed again. "Right right right. I'll get out of your hair. You can catch a ride with us later. Fred brought the van."
She shook her head, tears returning. "I really just want to find my jacket and walk –"
The door banged open and Hermione stood in the doorway with a grin plastered across her face. "Found her!" she shouted with glee over her shoulder. She gave FP a double take when she noticed him a few feet away. Her voice lowered. "Found them. Dear me, what ever is going on up here? I distinctly told you," she waved her finger between them, "no hanky panky on Mary's bed."
"Where is she?" Mary came running up and pushed passed Hermione, nearly toppling the drunk girl over. "Jesus, Alice. You scared the crap out of us. We've all been looking for you for half an hour. People were about to go searching the damn woods." She looked between Alice and FP slowly. "Are you okay?"
"She's fine," FP said quickly.
"Alice, are you okay?" she asked again.
"They look guilty," Hermione smiled. Mary rolled her eyes.
"Can you get downstairs and tell everyone the damn search party is off?" Hermione pursed her lips but left in silence. "Seriously, Alice. Everything –"
"Fine!" Alice said louder than she intended. "I'm fucking fantastic, Mary. That's why I was up here alone crying."
"But you're not alone…"
"Come on, Mary," FP laughed. "She was upset and I was comforting her. She lost her coat and you know Alice needs to make a big deal about everything."
"I do not make a big –" Alice started.
"Your coat?" Mary asked. "Hal has your coat. After I told him you threw up he wanted to take you home so he went and got it. Next thing I knew, we can't find you. That's why we thought you drunk wandered into the woods."
"Hal came back?"
"Hal never left. A bunch of people have been in the basement playing my Super Nintendo. Let's go get him."
Alice gulped and wiped the rest of her drying tears away with the sleeve of her blouse. "Thanks, Mary, but I can find him myself." She jumped off the bed. "I need to apologize." She shot FP a look. "Thanks."
"No problem," he said deadpan.
Mary combed back her hair with her hand in a frustrated manner. "Close the door behind you, please."
Alice nodded and pulled the door closed most of the way, but didn't let the mechanism click inside. She put her ear up to the door and heard a loud smacking noise.
"What the hell was that for?" FP exclaimed.
"What did you do?" Mary asked, her voice low and venomous. If Alice hadn't heard it herself, she wouldn't have believed it came from Mary. Another smacking noise followed, not as loud this time.
"I told you, she was upset and she needed someone to talk to."
"Then why was she crying like that?"
"Her and Hal got into a fight –"
"Yeah, I know that. They got into a fight about nothing and she disappears alone with you? I've known her since first grade and I've never seen that girl cry. I didn't even know she had the ability to cry."
"Mary…"
"What happened? You tell her how you feel?"
"No. She has a boyfriend."
"That's not typically something that would stop you."
A long pause. "I kissed her."
"And?"
"And what? She wasn't into it."
"God, FP. You can't just go around… kissing people. Geez. What's wrong with you?"
"Who do you think I am? It didn't happen out of nowhere. She practically asked me to. But she wasn't into it, so I stopped."
"You okay?" Mary asked softly.
"I guess you can say I was into it." Another pause. "God, is this what it feels like?"
"What what feels like?"
"When Fred turns you down for Hermione."
Another smack. "Jerk. Here I am, trying to be a good friend, and you're making jokes?"
"I'm just finding the role reversal ironic. Me pining for someone I can't have instead of you crying that Fred took Hermione to the Bijou instead of you."
"I can't say I support anyone trying to break up happy couples."
"Unless it's Fred and Hermione?"
"Fred and Hermione are not happy, nor or they a couple. They just occasionally find solace in each other's… bodies. And that's none of my business."
"And you think I'm the messed up one? Geez. I'm not trying to break them up. It's nothing to me if there together."
"Likely story."
"You think I'm jealous of Hal?"
"I think you're not used to girls saying no to you."
"Yeah, that must be it."
"Come on. I'm missing my own party."
Alice quickly raced down the stairs, glad the carpeting hid her rapid footsteps. She found Hal quickly enough, pushed up against the living room wall with a giggling Hermione in front of him. Hal's eyes were directed at the ceiling, trying to look at anything that wasn't the girl in front of him.
"Oh there she is," Hermione said. "Took you long enough. I had to keep poor Hal company." She planted her hand on Hal's chest. He grabbed her hand and slowly moved it off.
"I… can we just go?" Alice asked Hal, her eyes pleading. "Please. We can talk in the car."
He nodded, relieved. "Yeah, let's just get out of here. Should we…" He nodded towards Hermione.
Hermione shook her head fervently. "I'll get a ride from Freddy."
"No no no," Alice insisted, grabbing the girl by the arms, leading her to the front door. "We'll drop you off."
"But Freddy…"
"Forget Fred."
"My coat –"
"Come back and get it tomorrow."
"It's cold."
"We'll drive fast."
They walked past the staircase just as Mary and FP reached the landing. "Don't ever say I didn't do you any favors," Alice hissed at Mary.
She felt FP's eyes burning into her, but she couldn't look at him. She felt that feeling again. That shifting feeling. Everything moving further and further away each other.