Hi everyone! Sorry for the long wait, but here's the new chapter. It's a bit short, but hopefully it'll do. I took a short break becuase I had gotten PM saying that someone plagarized my story. However, after talking the author in question, I realized that it was just an enormous misunderstanding. However, the whole experience did make me weary lol. Anyways, hope you like this next chapter.
Thank you to:
luvinurbuks
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paulavara140
DiscoPenguin
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Lexxloubell
I do not own Riverdale, only Aggie.
1st P.O.V. Riverdale
I was sitting down on the front porch, reading The Hobbit. In my favorite black overalls and red sneakers, I was immersed in the story of Bilbo Baggins and the Dwarves he was travelling with. I had just turned the page when the front door slammed open, and Fred, along with a bunch of his friends, came rushing out of the house. They were all rowdy, hitting each other and laughing with one another. Fred gave me a mere 'Bye, Aggs.' as he and the other boys went to the Shaggin' Wagon to go to the drive-in.
The last one out of the house was F.P. He had on a black shirt with a jean jacket, and red hat on backwards. He stopped before following the other boys, and looked down at me.
F.P. gave me a smile that melted my heart and made my insides turn into butterflies. "Hey, Aggie. All of us are going to the Twilight Drive-In, want to come? We're going to go see Basic Instinct."
He had invited me to the movies with them! Me! My face went red as I felt my heartbeats become faster and faster.
I bit my lip and kept my eyes trained on the wooden floorboards of the porch, when a disturbing thought entered into my mind. There was nothing I wanted more in the world than to go to the movies with F.P., but I also didn't want to put a damper on Fred's evening. Not that he minded, of course, but sometimes...I don't know, I just felt out of place, like I didn't belong with the rest of them. "Thanks...but, I think I'll just stay and read." I held up my book and gave him a reluctant smile. "You have fun, though. 'Kay?"
F.P.'s smile dimmed a bit and he gave me a nod. "'Kay, well..." He gave me a tight-lipped koI ok and waved goodbye. I gave him a small wave too as he went and joined that mass of boys in Fred's van. Once they disappeared from sight, I leaned my head back against the wall of the house, replaying everything that just happened over and over again. He was always inviting me to join them, but I always declined.
Last week he invited me to Pop's with them.
The week before, he invited me to the river when a bunch of them wanted to go swimming.
And before that, their group wanted to go out of town to go to the mall, and he invited me to come along.
Did he like me?
'F.P. is so nice and cool and smart. He would never go for me. He probably just invited me to be polite...yeah, that's it.' I looked at my watch and saw that it was still early. Deciding to leave well enough alone, I grabbed my book and went inside.
Yeah, F.P. Jones was just being nice, that was all.
In no way, would he ever be interested in the nerdy introvert that was Fred Andrews' younger sister.
He, one of the most popular guys in the school, and me, the Queen of the Geeks.
Little did I know, that I was 100% wrong.
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I eventually came to flowing waters of the Sweetwater River, and parked my car close to the edge. Turning it off, I sat down at the water bank, hugging my knees against my chest in a semi-fetal position.
I wanted to get out of this town again.
Sure, seeing Pop Tate was nice, as was seeing my nephew, but I felt a resistance to my home that I hadn't felt before. Like it was hesitant to accept me back...perhaps it was just me, though. Seeing F.P. did no favors, and neither did Fred keeping information from me. At least in Detroit I had a purpose...and someone to complain to.
The more I thought about Detriot, the more I started to think about Bobby and how he compared to F.P. Jones.
F.P. didn't take any shit, and neither did Bobby.
F.P. had a rough childhood, so did Bobby.
F.P. was a magnet for trouble, so was Bobby.
Both had been in and out of jail.
Both had tattoos.
Both had a sense of family, as warped as their senses were when it came to such a notion.
But herein lies the difference: Bobby never cheated on me, and was brutally honest, to the point of it just being mean. F.P., on the other hand, tended to keep secrets so no one would get hurt. Bobby Mercer didn't give a shit about feelings, so he just told it like it was. He was honest about his struggles with the law and how he had no desire for a relationship. He was unabashedly himself.
So, I believed him when he told me that he wanted me to stay.
Bobby wouldn't say that unless he meant it.
And the more I thought about how moving back to this shit hole of a town was a mistake, the more I believed Bobby's sentiments.
I took off my shoes and rolled up my pants, wading into the shallow water.
Shaking my head, I scoffed. "I need to stop thinking these things, it isn't right. I came here for Fred and Archie and I'll damned if I let the past or my own self-doubts scare me away." After a while of cooling down, I went back into my car, driving back into town. I picked up a copy of the Riverdale Register, and went into Pickens Park, sitting down on the bench.
I turned the page to the Jobs section.
Maybe the reason I was thinking all of these things was because, for the first time in years, I had an enormous amount of free-time on my hands. Perhaps getting a job could help ease the transition into being back here in this small town. Though, technically I already had a job (Hello, best-selling author right here!) I needed to do something more active.
I mentally crossed out all the unsuitable jobs as my eyes scanned the advertisements of the paper.
Beautician? My gaze shifted from the black ink to a small scar on my wrist, a memento from when I tried to wax myself. Cringing at the thought of how I had all of that hot wax on my arm, I knew that this job would not be suitable. After all, I didn't want to give anyone else a scar.
Journalist? Alice Cooper and Me? Working together? Hell no.
Waiter/Waitress for Pop's Chock-Lit Shoppe? Lord knows I spent all of my extra time at Pop's. I loved Pop Tate, he was like a second father to me, and was the only other person besides Fred that I stayed in contact with when I left Riverdale. He was the one that gave me a job when I was pregnant and he was the one that I would often go to for advice. On a couple occasions, Pop Tate even let me stay the night at his house. However, knowing him, Pop Tate would want me to do better for myself, something he often told me when we had our weekly phone chats when I lived away from here.
Interior Designer? I liked making up rooms and houses, but I didn't do it professionally. And considering that it was the Blossoms that put out the advertisement, I knew that they would only want the best for their home, not some amateur with a hobby and time to kill.
The last one though, caught my eye. "School Social Worker?" I mumbled to myself. "Social Worker needed for inter-district work. Must have degree in Communications or Social Work. Recommendations mandatory. Wage $20.00-$25.00 an hour?" I raised my eyebrow. Looking up at the sky, I asked, "Hey, Big Man Upstairs...I hope this isn't some kind of sick joke. I don't really need that right now."
I got up from the bench and went to my car. I started it up and drove home. I had to update my resumé.
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I held the phone up to my ear as I made dinner. I decided not to see Fred until I calmed down a bit. We were already on the rocks, and I didn't want to make things any worse.
"I'm sending you the letter now."
I stirred my pot of soup around as I nodded. "Thanks, Jason. It really means a lot."
"It's no problem, you were one of our best workers. It's a shame you had to leave. The office doesn't seem the same without you."
"Awww!" I cooed sarcastically, "You're making me blush."
Jason, my old boss, laughed into the reciever. "Well, don't get used to it, Aggs. I'm a married man."
Taking a spoon out of the drawer, I dipped it in the red broth, lifted it to my lips, and tasted the soup. Thinking that it was fine, I turned off the stove and got out a bowl from the cabnient above me. "I know, I know. By the way, how is Karen? Is she and the baby doing well?"
I could hear his smile as he said, "Yeah, they're doing great. Jacob is learning how to walk now, so that's been fun."
Ladling some of the soup into the bowl, and covering the pot with the lid, I sat down at the table. "That's awesome! Just make sure that you keep an eye on him, okay? I one time took care of this toddler, and she went everywhere. Once she got up to walk, it was like Fast and Furious."
"Gee, I can't wait." Jason replied. "Anyway, I have to get home. Good luck with the interview."
I smiled. "Thanks, and good luck with the walking." I clicked the end button and sat in silence.
Tomorrow would be a new day.
I set up an interview for the morning, so that was nice.
And tomorrow, I would have a talk with my brother.
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The bespectacled woman with pink, (borderline purple) lipstick stared at me. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat as she silently read the recommendations from Jason and my old co-workers.
Interviews had never been my thing.
I hated them because you had to talk about yourself, which was something I wasn't really fond of.
The woman finally set down the paper and sat back in her chair, her critical stare feeling intrusive to my personal bubble.
"So", she sneered out, "you come from Detroit?" Of course that would be the first thing she'd point out.
I scratched the back of my head, slightly messing up my perfect hair bun. "Actually, I was born and raised here, in Riverdale. I went to school here and graduated-" The interviewer cut me off. "From Riverdale High School. Yes, I saw that." She leaned forward and asked, "Tell me about Detroit. What was it liking working there."
Well, here goes nothing. "Rough at first, but you get used to it."
"And the children you worked with?"
"Like the city, but had a different way of expressing it."
The woman gazed down at my paper and hummed. "Hmmm...it says here you have a Bachelor's Degree in Social Work from the University of Glasgow?"
I nodded, brushing my hands on the black pencil skirt I was wearing. "That's correct."
"Pity. We were looking for someone with a Master's. In fact", the interviewer raised a skeptical eyebrow at me, "it's nearly a requirement for any social worker to have a Master's."
"I understand that, but the office I worked in was sort of desperate and really understaffed, which ended up with me getting the job."
The woman took out a pencil from her messy hair and bit the eraser in thought. "That's nice, but a Master's is what we're looking for."
I looked down in disappointment. "Oh...alright."
The woman handed my resumé back to me and stood up from behind her desk. "Thank you, for your time. We'll keep in touch."
We'll keep in touch? Yeah, that was a polite way of saying 'We won't ever hire you, so please get lost and stop wasting our time'.
I stood up and shook her hand. "I look forward to it."
Leaving the office, I released my hair from it's bun, shaking it loose as I stepped out into the street. As I walked past the windows of that shops that lined the streets, I rolled my eyes seeing my reflection.
I looked like a principal.
Ugh!
I knew I should've worn something more colorful than this shirt, my white long-sleeved button up. I stopped and adjusted the straps to my heels, making them a bit more tight.
As I was walking, I looked at my watch. It was getting closer to noon, which meant that soon Fred would be taking his lunch break.
I would have enough time to change. I really just wanted to wear my overalls again, the signature staple in my wardrobe.
Overalls, to me, are super comfortable.
One day during the first few days of Freshman Year, I wanted to make a change.
This was before the whole 'surgery debacle'.
I glanced nervously at my reflection in my mirror. I had my hair done in a fashionable style. I was wearing the newest jeans and the preppiest shirt. I had on makeup and a ton of bangles and I was wearing contacts.
'This year, I will not be made fun of.' I told myself. Grabbing my bookbag, I went downstairs to the kitchen where Fred, Mom, Dad, and F.P. were walking about or sitting down. I went to the table and sat down next to Fred, who was enjoying a cup of coffee and a stack of waffles.
I set down my bag and reached for the coffee pot to get myself some.
"Here, Aggs." F.P. handed me a cup of coffee.
"Thanks!" I took it from his hands and our fingetips grazed each other. The corners of F.P.'s lips tugged into a smile as he propped himself against the table. He took a sip from his mug and said, "You look nice today." "Thanks!" "You nervous about starting high school?"
"Nah. I think I'm adequately prepared for it, besides, I'm really happy to be going to school with you and Freddy again."
F.P. chuckled and said, "Yeah. It was kind of a loud without you there. You quiet things down."
I added some french vanilla creamer to my coffee and took a waffle from the slowly-dwindling pile in the the middle of the table. Mom came to the table and gave me the peanut butter, while smacking Fred on the back of the head.
A piece of food came flying from his stuffed mouth to his plate. Fred looked at Mom with wide eyes and an open mouth.
F.P. and I weren't slow to comment.
"Eww! Fred you almost spat that out on my food!"
"Dude, close your mouth!"
Fred closed his mouth to swallow the food and he called out to our mother who went to the outdoor porch. "Ma! Why'd you hit me?"
"You need to save some food for everyone else." She yelled back.
F.P. and I laughed as Fred rolled his eyes and mumbled to himself, embarrassed about being scolded. I hummed a nonsensical tune as I scraped peanut butter onto my waffles and poured some syrup on them, all while being unaware that F.P. was watching me.
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It was only Fred and I walking home from school. F.P. had football practice, so he couldn't come along. It was silent until my brother said, "You looked nice today."
I glanced down at my outfit and sighed. "Thanks..."
I clutched my pink history binder closer to my chest. Fred nudged me with his shoulder and I looked up at him as he gave me that James Dean smile of his. "Are you still upset by what Alice said?"
"Well...she did call me a poser in front of EVERYONE in the cafeteria." I emphasized the word 'everyone'. Fred ran his fingers through his light brown hair. "Yeah...by the way, F.P. said he would talk to her about that."
I felt my irritation at the Southside girl overflow and I snapped at my brother, "Oh! Like he said he would take care of it all the other times?"
I walked ahead of him in a huff and Fred ran to catch up to me. "Hey! Just ignore it then. Ignore Alice and she'll leave you alone. She just likes getting a rise out of you."
I held out my arm in front of him to make him stop walking. I stood in front of him and asked him, "Do you think I look like a poser?"
Fred held his hand up to his mouth, shielding his obvious smile from me. "No...but..."
"But what?!"
Fred took his hand off of his mouth and let me see his grin. He put a hand on my shoulder. "You're trying too hard. This is high school, not some ball or a John Hughes movie. Just be you, and it'll be a whole lot less stressing, I promise."
I thought about his words.
Maybe I was trying too hard.
And Fred was usually right about these things. "C'mon", Freddy said as he swung his left arm around my shoulders, "Mom said she and dad are taking us to Pop's tonight. I bet Dad will even let you get two milkshakes." I leaned into my brother's embrace as we walked home.
The next day, I went to school in overalls, no makeup, with glasses. I was myself. And I felt immensely better. During breakfast, F.P. came over and smiled at me. "Hey, Aggie." "Hey!" He took an apple from the fruit basket and bit into it, a dribble of juice going to his chin. I reached over the table and wiped it off for him. F.P. gave me a slight sheepish look along with a grin and said, "You look pretty today."
I retracted my hand self-consciously. "Oh, thank you."
"You looked good yesterday, but you look better today. More natural and more like yourself."
Yeah...Fred was definitely right.
I walked to my car, but before I could open the door, I heard a voice say, "Aggatha Andrews, is that you?" I turned around and saw the familiar face of Hal Cooper.
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