Chapter Two
When Gabby woke up the next morning, Cheryl was curled by her side. Painfully resting on Gabby's arm, forcing pins and needles up to her elbow. Cheryl, who studied every morsel and crumb that passed her lips, was heavier than she looked. Her red hair fanned over her pillow in a scarlet arch. Not quite a scarlet letter, but close. A halo that, for the moment in time, made Cheryl look like an angel, though she was certainly anything but. Not entirely devilish, but not so sweet, either.
Nevertheless, Gabby felt nothing but love for her best friend. There weren't many other people in the world that would stay with her all night when she'd have the entire house to herself. A daily occurrence for anyone who knew the life she led outside of school. House parties became nothing short of boring and beyond lame since eighth grade. How many times could she buy enough beer to get even the most hardened drunkard to sprint around the neighborhood completely naked? Reggie didn't seem to get tired of it—he always loved to show off his body, especially since having lost his baby fat when joining the football team. How many times could she clean up the leftover vomit, cigarette butts, and condom wrappers that littered the floors of her house before becoming simply tired of it?
About twenty-five, if her calculation was correct. (Despite what others thought of her, she really was highly skilled in mathematics. Cheryl, however, couldn't stand her getting good grades over her, Gabby kept that it quiet). That was how many dresses she'd bought for each party. How many shopping trips she went on to boost her spirits after coming home to an empty house time after time after time. She learned that lesson the hard way; when, one weekend, she didn't want to throw a party. But there was Reggie, Moose, Midge, and the River Vixens with as much party favors as her wide eyes could handle. She tried to talk them out of it, but they barged their way in, ignoring all her pleads and attempts to wanting to be alone and wallow in her own pity all before Cheryl, with a few unminced words, managed to get them to leave before spending the night with her.
Gabby knew it was because Cheryl was just as lonely as she was. Misery loved company and they knew how to be miserable together. But that morning, Gabby was as far from miserable as she could be. She was content, maybe even a little apathetic as she flipped back her covers, made sure Cheryl was tucked in and still sleeping before going down to the kitchen.
She wasn't surprised to hear the cacophonous sounds of her father's snoring the moment she reached the bottom of the stairs. Wasn't surprised to find him lying in his armchair in front of the flat screen TV with the sound turned down. Wasn't surprised to see a few empty beers scattered long the floor by the chair, one upended to dribble the pale amber liquid into the carpet. That she'd be cleaning, of course.
Gabby walked to her father and slapped the remote into her palm. The sting, at least, made her feel something. Gabby turned off the TV, gathered the beer bottles to recycle, then returned to her father, tucking him further into his armchair as she'd done with Cheryl earlier that morning. Head turned to the side, a five o'clock shadow covering his chin, her father looked as handsome to her as ever. And yet, looked nothing more than a stranger—a roommate she'd lived with for the past fourteen years.
She went into the kitchen and made herself a cup of coffee before quietly making her way back to her room. Cheryl was only just starting to wake up when Gabby returned, her feet sinking into her plus carpet. In the time it took for her to cross her expansive bedroom, Cheryl sat up, swung her hair out of her face like a mermaid, and lovingly ran her fingers through it before stretching noisly.
"Okay, Ariel," Gabby said. She curled up in her desk chair, being careful not to spill any coffee. Ralph Lauren should never be stained. "When was the last time you used your dinglehopper?"
Cheryl's lips—pale pink with the lack of her 'Cheryl Bombshell' lipstick—stretched into a wide smile. "I love it when you talk dirty to me in the morning." She rolled her eyes. "Much better than any of those yutz at school could do."
Gabby took a sip of coffee and lifted her chin. "Speaking of, how was your date with Reggie?"
"Please. You know I don't date. No one's good enough for me."
"No one's good enough for Jason, either."
Cheryl rolled her eyes again. "In Jay's eyes, no one's every going to be good enough for me. Which is sweet, of course, my brother loves me. He wants nothing but the best for me and I certainly deserve the best." She held out her hands, wiggled her fingers. "Now, gimmie."
"Say please." Gabby held her coffee further away. Though, with the size of her bedroom, the expansive floor between them couldn't be any further. Cheryl gave her a 'oh please' look, dropping her hands. "There's not a lot you'd do, but I know you'd do it for me." She wiggled her coffee back and forth. "I mean, you do love me, right?"
Cheryl's face then turned serious. And her words, though campy, were heartfelt. "I love you with the white-hot burning intensity of a thousand suns." Gabby smiled and stood up and went to Cheryl, giving her the coffee.
"I love you, too," Gabby replied and laughed when Cheryl made a show of sticking out her tongue, running it along the rim to claim the drink as her own. "All you had to do was ask."
"Asking is just short of begging and begging is not something us Blossoms do." Cheryl's eyes became distant, emphasized as she covered the lower half of her face, sipping at the coffee. Her hands trembled slightly, remembering the many times Penelope Blossom shoved the thought into Cheryl's and Jason's heads while simultaneously grooming Cheryl to be her callous mini-me. That they were better than anyone and everyone and asked for nothing.
They took.
"Musn't disappoint mother than I already do," Cheryl said, lowering the cup once more.
Gabby shook her head. "Hate to tell you, Cherry, but your mom sucks."
"Yes, well," Cheryl trailed off. Gabby knew what she was about to say. 'At least I have a mother'. A fair statement for an unfair circumstance. For a moment, Gabby felt a twinge of sadness flutter through her stomach. She only let the moment linger for that moment. Didn't feel any anger towards Cheryl's callous non-statement. Didn't have to. She'd become numb to it. Cheryl said it often enough when Gabby started to fell depressed or down about her mother's consistent deployments.
Cheryl hated war. The Blossoms never saw a point in it, Cheryl explained. The Blossoms never found anything interesting that didn't immediately include them, Gabby said in response. And yet, Gabby agreed. She hated war simply because it took her mother and father away. The moment her mother left, her father had gone with her. Present in body, but gone in mind and spirit. Even when her mother was back, it took ages for her father to turn back to his normal, loving self. It'd always comes too late.
And Gabby hated her mother for it. Hated that she always had to be strong, had to look out for her father, had to bet he 'brave little soldier I know you can be' while she was gone. When would she stick around long enough to know that what she was doing for their country, for their family, was tearing them apart more than it was bringing them close. Cheryl and Jason were her family now and that was all she needed.
Wordlessly, Gabby leaned over and rested her head on Cheryl's shoulder. Cheryl brought up her arm and wrapped it around Gabby's shoulders, stroked her fingers over Gabby's cheek. In silence, the two mourned their family lives, as they were to do when the conversation arose. Finally, Cheryl put the cup aside and clapped her hands together.
"Come, come! We must decide what we're going to delegate to the broke hearts of our loyal subjects with when it's our time to shine at school." Cheryl flittered her fingers towards Gabby's closet. "Come show me your new stash. Just because I had to miss the sales because of mother's insistence I attend her social gathering doesn't mean I have to be left out."
"You're lucky we're the same size, Cherry." Gabby got out of bed to do as she was told. Already feeling a hundred times better. She even giggled at Cheryl's passing comment of, "With that ass, I don't think so."
Cheryl vetoed nearly everything Gabby chose for the day, forcing her to change about twenty times before finally stating her attire of a gray blazer, black tie, white blouse—one as thin as tissue paper but costing about $500—pink pencil skirt, white thigh-highs and black boots were the way to go. And, of course Cheryl had to one-up her and take the most expensive outfit Gabby owned and hadn't had a chance to wear.
"You can't expect me to relinquish my name as 'best dressed' do you?" Cheryl asked, noticing Gabby's frustrated glance. She flipped open her purse, perused for her lipstick, and leaned into her mirror to carefully apply it with deliberately slow movements. She ran her index finger along the side of her mouth and smiled. "I've held onto that title for three years and I certainly intend to make it a fourth. That's something even my mother couldn't do." She snapped her purse shut and held out her arm. "Now, treat me to breakfast and we'll meet up with the girls before school."
Gabby sighed. She shook her head, looking over the photos that covered the wall above her desk. Photos of herself, Jason, and Cheryl that covered the top half. Of herself, Cherly, Josie, the pussycats, and Midge in the others. Moose and Reggie were in some. Even Dilton Doiley—or Dillhole Doiley as she called him—were in some of them. More than enough people she actually liked and somehow, Cheryl topped them all.
Gabby took Cheryl's outstretched hand, then grabbed her purse and phone with the other. The two left her bedroom and went to the kitchen. As Cheryl called Jason to pick them up—having to promise he'd have the car for himself, his friends, and his activities for a solid week to change his own plans—Gabby went through the motions as she did every morning.
She set up the coffee maker to start another pot, set it to brew it the exact moment her father awoke in the middle of the day, rinsed out the bottles he'd finished the night before, carefully hid away any potential hazards—how silly, to hide knives from parents when, for the first few years of life, parents hid any dangers from their children—and looked over the note he left her.
Working late, don't wait up. We need to talk about your report card. Mom says she'll call soon.
Gabby thought for a moment, tapping her pen against her chin, then grabbed a post-it-note from the stack beside his. She scribbled quickly, signing her name haphazardly at the bottom.
Went to school. My grades are fine. Ok. -Gabriella.
Like he didn't know her name. Gabby capped her pen and put it back in its rightful place, everything had its place. She turned back to Cheryl, who continued to wait patiently, scooped a camera off the counter, and walked outside to the car that waited for her.
Jason barely looked away from his phone, where his thumb rapidly moved over the face to type out a text, and said, "You're late," before sliding down the sunglasses that rested over his eyes. He looked past Gabby to his twin sister and shook his head. Almost mockingly. "You know mother's not going to like getting another call from the school."
"One more call isn't going to kill her, Jay-Jay." Cheryl slid into the seat that faced her brother. She crossed her leg at the knee, carefully grabbing her own sunglasses to slid over her eyes. "And you know mother, she loves to talk. Why not let her talk about her favorite subject?"
Jason smirked, the corner of his mouth turning up in a way that made all the girls in school swoon. Gabby rolled her eyes, sliding in next to Jason, closing the door behind her. The car started up as soon as the door was shut, pointing towards Riverdale high. "I thought I was her favorite subject."
"You may be the favorite child, but I'm the one who's talked about most."
"Doesn't that mean something to you?"
"Don't you get it, Jay?" Gabby placed her hand on Jason's shoulder, squeezed tightly. He turned his smirk to her. "As long as someone's talking about Cheryl, then Cheryl's the one who ends up happy. And nothing is more important than Cheryl's happiness."
"Mm." Jason pressed his lips together. "Do you plan on getting that on a sampler?"
"Depends." Gabby smiled. "How much will you charge me for it?"
"Enough so that it never sees the light of day." Jason laughed. He shifted his eyes back to Cheryl. "We wouldn't want her head to get any bigger than it already is."
"Mm." Cheryl mimicked Jason, pressing her lips together. Her eyes flickered downward. "At least something's big." Affronted, Jason shot Cheryl a nasty glare. Undeterred, Cheryl flicked her gleaming red hair over her shoulder and said, "Yes, that I'm the one who'll be remembered. And when you inevitably turn old and gray, I'll be the one who will carry on the Blossom name by my social skills and leadership. And what'll you have?" Cheryl tilted her head. "Football awards, accolades, a bad back, a beer belly, and Polly Cooper by your side."
"No doubt a fat whore who tried to relive her cheerleading days and living off your money by then," Gabby added. Her dimples appeared in her cheeks with the wicked smile she shared with Cheryl.
Jason's smirk immediately faded. His eyes turned a nasty shade of navy, a stark difference than the brilliant blue that typically showed with his jovial personality. Being the big man on campus wasn't a trait lost on him for his friendly attitude to everyone he spoke to. But that was gone, replaced by unbridled fury.
"Don't talk about her like that," Jason snapped. He leaned forward and looked at Cheryl so coldly that her breath became caught in her throat. Gabby's eyes widened, locked with Cheryl's. One step too far. "I don't care what you do, Cheryl, or what sort of games you want to play, but don't you dare fucking talk about her like that."
Cheryl held up her hands. A small smile was on her face. "I didn't say anything, Jay-Jay." She pointed a perfectly manicured finger toward Gabby. "Gabs did."
"Please." Obviously, Jason liked to use Cheryl's word as much as Cheryl did. "Everyone knows she's just your puppy and follows everything you do. Everything always comes back to you. And some day, you're not going to be able to handle it."
He kicked the door open as the Blossom's driver arrived at school. He stormed out, pulling his crossbody bag over his shoulder as he did so. Cheryl pouted, stepping out the car after her brother. "He's mad at me." She pouted. "Jason's never mad at me." Cheryl glared at Gabby over her shoulder. "Why'd you have to talk about Polly like that? You know how he gets about her."
Gabby's eyebrows rose. She started to defend herself, but Cheryl walked away from her without a backwards glance. Everyone in front of her leapt out of the way as she strode to the building. With a roll of her eyes, Gabby shook her head. Leave it to Cheryl to be so dramatic about things. It wouldn't take too long for her to come back as if something happened. Just like always.
Instead of dwelling over it, Gabby, instead, pulled out her camera. Things always were much clearer when she looked through the lens. She snapped a quick photo of Jason and Cheryl; twins in all manner of the word storming apart from each other, rather than being a unified front.
Turning her camera around the front of Riverdale High, Gabby caught sight of her other classmates. Archie and Betty walking to school as they always did with Jughead ambling at a much slower pace behind them, staring at the ground as he went. Midge talking a mile a minute with Josie and the rest of the pussycats. The football team gathered together, clapping each other on the back and laughing loudly. Gabby took a picture of Reggie as he threw a football her way.
Gabby squeaked and moved to clasp her hands together, moved to hit the ball with a volleyball bump. Moved too slow. Her camera made her clumsy, unsure of how to put it down safely without the strap around her neck. She closed her eyes and ducked, heard the ball catch against something. Felt the wind whip around her when it was thrown back.
Reggie grinned. "Nice catch, Andrews!" He called.
"Thanks, Reggie," Archie replied. Gabby stood up from her crouch to see Archie standing behind her, hands shoved into the front pocket of his sweatshirt. The nearly identical sweatshirt he wore the day before and the day before that. Jughead had an excuse, she surmised, he was poor. Didn't have much in the way of making an appearance at school. She hardly noticed him as it is. But Archie lived on the Northside, his father's construction company was doing well enough, why he continued to allow himself to put forth a less than ideal front, she didn't know.
Gabby cast a cursory glance over Archie's form. Soft, round, doughy, a little bit overweight. Not anything too interesting to look at, though many people—somehow—seemed to get him and Jason mixed up from behind. Yeah, right, Gabby thought. Like anyone would give him a second thought.
Reggie seemed not to have the same opinion as he sauntered to Archie and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "You really should try out for the team," he said. "We could use you."
"Like you need another concussion?" Betty asked.
"I've got a hard head." Reggie rapped his knuckles against the side of his head to prove his point. "It takes more than a few hits to knock me down. And Andrews here looks like he could take some good hits."
"Sure, if we're talking about how many punches his stomach can take," Gabby snorted. "It's just like playdough, regains its shape after every mark."
Jughead finally spoke up, watching Gabby with as much indifference as she cast on him. "That's a great way to say 'thank you' to someone who's going to keep you from repeating the year," he remarked. His eyes flickered to Reggie. "And, for once, I'm not talking about you. But there's time."
Reggie tightened his grasp on Archie's shoulder, making the redhead wince. "I'd love to see you out on the field, Jones. See if you can back up your mouth with any talent," he remarked.
"Yeah, it takes a lot of talent to chase a ball up a field," Jughead said. His lips barely twitched. "Do you like playing fetch, Reggie?"
Reggie removed his hand from Archie. He stepped toward Jughead, clenching his hands into fists. "Are you saying I'm a dog?"
"Woof, woof."
"Stop," Archie said wearily. He looked to Jughead, who shrugged and turned away, already bored with the conversation.
"You're going to let him talk to Jughead like that?" Betty asked, appalled.
Jughead shrugged lazily. "I don't need Archie to fight my battles for me." Then a wicked smile came to his face. "He can hardly run the football field let alone throw a punch."
Archie rolled his eyes, but looked unoffended at his best friend's jab. Tired of the conversation, Gabby started to walk away. It was Archie's question, low and directed toward the ground, that caught her attention. Made her stop in her tracks. "Do you want to meet in the library after school?"
"For what?"
"What do you think, Gabs?" Reggie flashed an inappropriate smile. "A good ol' roll in the hay! I didn't know you had it in you, Andrews. School's not the first place I'd think of, but the gym's actually—"
"—Come on, Reggie," Betty protested. She folded her arms. She shook her head, blonde ponytail swaying. "Is your mind always in the gutter?"
"No, it's usually on the field," Reggie said.
"That explains so much," Jughead intoned.
Archie and Gabby ignored them all. Arche scuffed at the ground with his foot. "Miss. Grundy asked if I'd help you out," he explained. "She's worried about your grades."
Gabby sneered. "Humpty Grundy isn't even our teacher!"
Archie shrugged. "She says she cares deeply about her students. That we're thriving or whatever." Archie shook his head. "I said I'd think about it, that I'd ask you. It's up to you."
"And what are you getting out of it?"
"Nothing."
The answer startled Gabby. She looked at Archie closely. Quiet, unassuming Archie who didn't have a bad word to say about anyone. Who may as well be invisible to everyone at Riverdale High. As a matter of fact, if it weren't for his red hair being so similar to Jason's she'd never notice him at all.
"If you want, we can meet after school," Archie continued. "If you don't show up." He shrugged again. "That's fine, too."
And go back to what? Staying in an empty house with no one to talk to, nothing to do, and only the sound of silence to accompany her? I'd rather be dateless at Pops' on Friday, Gabby thought. And that's social suicide. Plus, it'd keep from setting off another series of hollow post-it-notes when her father certainly couldn't care less about her grades or her schoolwork.
Ever since Hiram Lodge had been named as a person of interest in an embezzlement case, he'd done nothing but put in long hours that continued to stretch as the days went on. What his advertising company had anything to do with Hiram Lodge, she wasn't sure, but it sure took him away a lot.
Gabby sighed, looked back toward the school. Was surprised to find Cheryl standing in the doorway to the school, tapping her foot, looking at her phone. As if waiting for her.
"Fine," Gabby surprised herself saying.
A/N: Thanks for the reviews of the last chapter. I hope you enjoyed this one as well.
Cheers,
-Riley