Real-life love stories are supposed to be simple. Boy meets girl. Shenanigans ensue. Marriage. Kids. Death. High school somehow manages to complicate things no matter where you live. Add on some Twilight Zone level happenings, and you've got Riverdale High.

The stories are more complex. Boy and girl are best friends. Girl likes boy. Boy likes new girl. Loner boy likes evil girl. Original girl and loner boy get together. Loner boy and evil girl still care about each other… You get the point.

I don't claim to be an expert on romance, but I'm pretty sure it's supposed to contain less murder, kidnapping, drug trafficking, gangs, and distant family incest.

Jughead kept to himself in his new home, despite his foster family's efforts to include him. They were pleasant enough, but Jug had a new rule against trusting adults in Riverdale ever since half of them had turned out to be criminals or adulterers.

He was already in bed for the night, and his usual jacket and hat were replaced by a white t-shirt and some oversized boxers. He shut his laptop for the night and decided that maybe he'd actually try going to sleep early like normal people do.

He remembered that being normal not only sounded boring but was also incredibly out of his wheelhouse, so he picked up his phone and opened up his texts. He looked down at the selective group of names that he actually cared about and thought about who he would try first. Archie was asleep by now. He and Veronica weren't close enough for a late night chat. That left two major players. Betty and Cheryl.

He opened up Betty's chat thread and typed out a quick message. Love you. Text me in the morning.

He navigated to the previous screen and selected Cheryl's name. Hey, ice queen.

The response was almost immediate. Hi Serpent trash.

Can't sleep?

Why do u think I'm such a bitch?

Really want me to answer that?

F U Jones.

He thought for a minute before responding. What are you doing tonight?

Laying in bed…

Wanna go somewhere?

Five minutes always felt like twenty when it came to texting. And when it was important, it felt like an hour. Eventually, Cheryl's reply came back. Meet at old drive-in lot. 15 min.

Jughead hopped out of bed and dressed quickly, choosing his fleece-lined jacket over the Serpent one this time. In his best ninja impression, Jug climbed out the window and lowered himself brick by brick to the ground. Easy.

By the time he arrived at the construction site, Jughead was second guessing his decision to go out, both because of the time and the company he was keeping. What would Betty think about his midnight rendezvous with Cheryl Blossom?

Cheryl's candy apple red convertible pulled in moments later, and he hopped in on the passenger side without hesitation.

"Buckle up," she said with a mischievous smile, and Jughead wondered what she had in store. Did she want to prank him? Have sex with him? Murder him? He decided that at least one of those was highly unlikely but wasn't any more reassured.

"You seem like you already have something in mind."

"Do you mind staying up all night?"

Jughead shrugged. "I can do the classes at South Side in my sleep."

They drove for about half an hour before stopping in front of a large hotel. "Here we are," Cheryl announced. "A Greendale getaway."

They got out of the car, and Cheryl pulled a tote bag from the trunk before tossing her keys casually to the late night valet. She took the lead as they entered the hotel, strolling up to the counter and asking for a room.

"Aren't you a little young, sweetheart?" The man behind the desk asked.

Cheryl's polite smile fell, and instead she passed a stack of bills over the counter. "For the night, and a little extra to never call me sweetheart."

The man nodded in spite of himself and took the money. "Name?"

"Sabrina Spellman."

"Here you go. 418," he said, handing over a key card.

Another thought came to Cheryl's mind. "Is the pool open?"

"It's midnight."

Cheryl slapped down another wad of bills. "Is the pool open?"

"Shit, lady,"

"And don't disturb us."

The man grumbled but swiped the key card again. "There. You've got access."

"Thanks!" the redhead said brightly and took the card back to her companion.

Jughead couldn't say if he was more impressed by Cheryl or concerned by the lax behavior of the concierge. Either way, they'd just rented a hotel room and were heading up their now.

In the elevator, Cheryl took his hand. "I thought maybe we could pretend for tonight that we're together. Not Cheryl Blossom. Not Jughead Jones."

"Just two people…" Jughead reminisced. "Like at the drive-in."

When they finally reached the room, Jughead recalled something. "I didn't bring anything to swim in."

Cheryl shook her head. "Don't you know I'm always a step ahead?" She pulled a pair of new trunks from her tote bag as well as a two-piece suit for herself.

They took turns changing in the bathroom then walked hand-in-hand down to the lobby.

Jughead couldn't keep his eyes off Cheryl. She'd chosen a black number with a gold lace-like trim. It was elegant and gothic and every bit as Cheryl Blossom as her hair or her name.

The pool was heated, and the temporary couple didn't delay getting in. At first they chatted, catching up on their time apart. Finally, Cheryl had an idea.

"What about Marco Polo?"

"A fine man, in my opinion."

"Ugh!" Cheryl splashed him in mock irritation. "You go first."

Jughead closed his eyes and waited. "Alright, ready?"

Silence.

"I'll take that as a yes. Marco!"

"Polo." Her voice was farther than before but still fairly close it seemed.

"Marco."

"Polo!" Closer.

"Marco!"

"Polo!"

Jughead reached out his hand but missed.

"Marco."

"Polo." Her voice was soft, and he could tell she was right in front of him. Before he could reach out to touch her, he felt Cheryl's lips pressed against his.

He didn't dare open his eyes and instead placed his hand on the back of her neck, pulling her to him. She responded by wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. Her skin was soft to the touch, and with his eyes shut, every sensation was heightened.

When they finally broke the kiss, Jughead opened his eyes. He'd forgotten how radiant Cheryl Blossom looked when she was happy.

"I guess you win," she said with a slight smile.

"I think we're all winners."

"We should try to sleep a little before we drive back."

Jughead nodded in agreement, and they dried off by the pool before heading up to the room.

When they were inside, Cheryl pulled him to her again, and he couldn't help but smirk. "So how far ahead did you plan?"

"Enough to know you won't sleep with me."

"You don't know that."

"Are you?"

He shook his head silently. "I can't…"

She looked disappointed but nodded her head in understanding. "I know. Not everything can be forgotten."

"I'm sorry, Cheryl."

"You wouldn't be the guy I… have feelings for if you did."

Jughead sighed. "You know I want this, too, right? I mean, if things were different and normal…"

"I know." She took a deep breath. "I know we're not together and we don't even know each other that well, but… I want to love you."

"I want to love you, too."

They kissed again, and they stripped out of their wet clothes in front of each other. They had been naked together in every other sense of the word, and nothing felt unnatural about the interaction.

Cheryl slipped on Jughead's shirt, and he put his boxers back on before climbing into bed. He laid flat on his back, and she placed her head on his chest. They said nothing more for a long time, and eventually both began to drift off into sleep.

"I want to love you."

"I want to love you, too."