AN/ Salut mes amis, I am backkkkkk. How are we all? I apologise for slow uploads all round, because I've been a bit overwhelmed lately, and preoccupied by never ending homework, a horrible mess in my head caused by my Ex (long story) and the perks of anxiety. But, I now have a week off of college, giving me plenty of time to write, so here is a little something to make up for my absence. By the end of the week, I should hopefully have uploaded to I'm Still Here and TMYLM, even if it's been like nine months since I've uploaded to that. Thank you all for your continued support of my writing, and I hope we're all doing okay atm.

Here's the next chapter, and I hope you enjoy...

Toni's POV:

The first time I was exposed to Cheryl Blossom, all I could think was fuck that redhead was hot, closely followed by well that girl's cold.

I had biology, and was sat at the only seat the teacher had spare. Jughead sniggered when I was allocated my spot, and I turned towards him.

"Care to tell me what's so funny, Jones?"

He laughed right back. "Oh, just you wait and see…"

Half an hour later, I realised why he was so amused. I was sat next to her. Of course I was. It had to be that one, the redhead from the diner. Karma's a bitch.

I'd made multiple attempts at conversation, and all I'd got was her name, a dirty look, and a shuffle towards the opposite side of the desk. Cheryl Blossom seemed to be barely tolerating my presence, and – not for the first time – I was slowly growing irritated.

Mr Beacham then came round with some textbooks, uttering instructions of how we were to work in twos to fill out the big sheets on mitosis and meiosis, and we'd be getting a baseline grade for this term based on how we worked within our teams.

The second teams were mentioned, Cheryl's hand shot up.

"Mr Beacham, sir," she began, her voice cold and confident. "Surely if this is an assessment, we should be better off working individually."

A murmur of dissent went up from the rest of the class, and several frosty glares were shot Cheryl's way.

"I mean," she continued, "it's not fair to do that."

"You'll manage, Cheryl. Now class, get on."

With a huff of frustration, she turned to face me for the first time.

Glancing at her, I took in that porcelain skin, those brown eyes, eyes that were stone cold, finding myself wishing there was something I could do to make them warm. Her jaw was set and those lips, plump and coated in a startling red lipstick, perfectly applied with no smudges whatsoever. Her lips were in a frown, and I found myself fixated on them, taking in the faint smell of cherries that surrounded the girl, wondering, just a tiny bit, what those lips felt like. After all, they looked so soft…

"Well, are you just going to stare at me like or a creep or are you going to do something?" she demanded, and I was shaken out of my daydream.

"Huh?" I replied, still in a slight daze, my mind far away from textbooks and teachers. "What did you say?"

With a look of distaste, she shook her head. "Just pick a damn sheet and fill it in, will you? And try not to mess it up with your stupid Southside underachievement."

"Feisty." I deadpanned, smirking when I saw the redhead frown at me.

"Just get the work done."

"They really don't lie about you, do they Bombshell?" I asked, picking up a sheet labelled mitosis and starting to fill it in.

"What do you mean?" she replied through gritted teeth, filling in a box about the concept of crossing over in a neat elegant script. "And please don't call me 'Bombshell' – only my friends call me that."

"And we aren't friends?" I joked, well aware of the glare shot my way in reply. "And, what I mean is, for a girl on fire, you're pretty cold, aren't you?"

"Can you just stop?" she snapped. "Please." She paused for a moment, as if she was deep in thought. "Just shut up."

I smirked when she said that, diverting my attention to the – mostly empty – sheet in front of me. Unlike Cheryl, who had started to write on the thing like one would an essay, I started to draw pictures, labelling the diagrams and colouring chromosomes.

"What do you think you are doing?"

"Filling in the sheet on mitosis."

"I can see that. Can't you do it properly?"

"I am doing it properly. What do you call this?"

"I call it drawing. Not writing."

"He didn't say we had to write about mitosis."

"But I did."

"No, you didn't."

"Well I am now. Surely you have enough brains to see someone else do something and follow suit."

"Well yes, but I'm no copycat. And anyway, I'm a more visual learner."

Cheryl sighed and diverted her attention back to her own sheet, filling the page with even more notes in various coloured pens, the letters looping together. I shook my head looking at it, knowing stuff like that was not my forte, not at all.

We sat in silence for the remainder of the lesson, only speaking when the teacher gave us a five-minute warning to time up. Even then, it wasn't as if we had an actual conversation, as her words were nothing more than 'write your name on that one, will you?' and 'for god's sake spell chromosome correctly.'

When the teacher picked up our sheets, he nodded his approval when he picked them up. "Miss Topaz, I must say I'm loving the creativity on yours."

"Thanks," I replied, waiting until he was out of earshot before turning to Cheryl. "Hear that Bombshell?"

"Fuck you, Topaz, and yes I did."

"Never make a hollow threat, Blossom," I replied, grabbing my bag as the bell rang.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

In response I winked, smirking as I turned to walk away.

Cheryl remained at the desk, stunned into silence.

"So Topaz," a voice quipped from behind me, "I see you experienced the very warmest of hospitality from Riverdale High's peppiest student this morning."

"There are places in the Antarctic warmer than Cheryl Blossom, Jones," I joked, and the raven haired boy chuckled. "Seriously though, what's her problem?"

"Suppressed homosexuality?" the boy joked, and I rolled my eyes at him. "I don't know, Toni, she's just a bitch by nature is my assumption, always has been, and probably always will be."

We wandered towards the cafeteria, and took seats at a table in one of the four corners, waiting for Fangs and Sweetpea to join us. Jughead pulled out his laptop, and started tapping at the keys. Feeling his focus shift from reality to the alternate universe we all existed in within his novel, I let my own attention drift from the boy sat in front of me, towards the doorway, watching various students wander in and out, wondering whether a certain redhead would appear.

A blonde walked into the cafeteria, and shot me a wave before coming to join me and Jughead. Of course she did, Betty Cooper was usually inseparable from her boyfriend.

"Heyyy," she hollered, taking a seat next to Jughead. "How are you finding it here, Toni?"

"Cold?" I replied, making myself laugh and Jughead chuckle.

"What?" Betty replied, appearing confused. "Why?"

"Bombshell," Jughead clarified. "She was pretty frosty."

"She's like that with everyone Toni, so I wouldn't worry."

"Who would that be?" a voice demanded, and I frowned as a girl I'd never met before took the seat next to me.

"Cheryl," Betty told her, and the Latina nodded.

"Who are you?" I muttered.

"Toni, Veronica, Veronica, Toni," Betty said, and the other girl smiled.

"Hi, I'm Ronnie."

"Hi."

"I'm Cheryl's best friend."

"Lucky you," I deadpanned, making everyone at the table laugh. "Tell me, is she like that with everyone?"

"Only people she doesn't like… and people she likes… actually yeah she's like that with everyone."

"Are we discussing my sister?" a boy asked, sitting down next to Veronica, and between the flame red hair and the letterman jacket it took little to realise the boy was Jason Blossom. "Wait? Is that Diner Dar – Ouch!"

Veronica suppressed a laugh as Jason dropped his fork, shooting him a warning look.

"What was that?" I asked, and the trio all looked away.

"Nothing," Jason declared, looking slightly sheepish.

"Thought so."

"Hey guys," a boy declared, taking the seat next to Betty and directing the boy who arrived with him to the seat beside him. He handed his leather satchel to the other boy, gesturing for it to be put on the next available seat. I knew who he was before he even mentioned his name. "Hey, we haven't met properly yet, have we? I'm Kevin Keller."

"The gay one?" I asked, and he nodded with a grin.

"What gave it away?"

"Just the satchel. And the fact you look like a Ken doll."

"Ouch," he replied dramatically, and I laughed at him.

"Erm, why are we sitting here?" a voice demanded, and the whole group's attention to the redhead who was stood behind Betty, hand on her hip, her face a mask of indifference.

"We're making new friends, Cheryl," Jason declared, "come, join us."

"I think I'll pass," she muttered, "stranger danger and all that."

"Well here," I said, getting up from my seat, "remove me from the table and there is no danger. But we do already know each other, Bombshell."

She rolled her eyes, but didn't take the seat. "I'm not fussed, and anyway, I probably need to go get some work done in the library."

"Well I might join you," I suggested, "get better acquainted with this school and all that."

She sighed with exasperation, and her friends all smirked. "Fine."

She started to walk away, but then turned around. "Well hurry up, Topaz. I don't save people seats."

Once she was out of earshot, I slipped back into my set and grabbed my bag. "Kevin?"

"Yeah?"

"If I tell you may gaydar tingles when I see Cheryl would I be experiencing accurate judgement?"

"Most certainly. Is there a reason for that?"

I tapped a finger against my nose, and made my way towards the door. They started talking almost immediately, all of them whispering in hushed voices.

Betty Cooper has never been that good a whisperer, something that has always frustrated me. Even over the rumble of everyone else's voices, I heard her mention 'Choni'.

Leaving the room, I tried to find a reason to be annoyed by them implying me and the Blossom girl could become a thing. Thinking only of my daydream when I first looked at the redhead, I couldn't find a single one. It wouldn't be the worst thing that could happen, that was for sure.

"Hey Bombshell," I called, raising my voice so the retreating redhead could hear. "How about we sack off the library and head elsewhere?"

"What?" she exclaimed, turning around to face me, her face showing her evident disapproval.

"You heard me. I'm free next period, and I think you might be too? How about we go out somewhere together?"

"Go out somewhere? Why?"

"Why not?"

"Because it's school time. Because I have work to do…"

"Come on, Bombshell, where's your sense of adventure?"

"Currently? It's working out whether or not anyone would miss you if you were to be involved in a tragic accident."

"Wow, they don't lie about you Blossoms being psychos… What do you say?"

"I say nobody would miss you and it might be worth pushing you down the stairs."

"You'd miss me though," I joked confidently, walking towards her and placing a gentle hand on her arm. "I see right through your act, Bombshell, I know you like the company in Bio."

"You. Know. Nothing!" she snapped through gritted teeth. "Now get your sapphic serpent hands OFF of my body!"

Before I had chance to react, she'd shook her arm so I was forced to let go, storming off down the corridor. I stood stunned, not entirely sure what had just happened.

A hollow round of applause came from behind me, and I turned to face a girl with blonde curls, who smiled sadly at me when she saw my face. "You've got a lot to learn about the way Cheryl Blossom works, haven't you?"

"Who are you?" I demanded, because – other than a vague mental image of this girl in Pop's with some of her other Riverdale High cronies – I'd never met her.

"Oh, I'm Heather," she replied. "Cheryl's ex."

AN/ Thank you so much for reading this guys, and I hope you have enjoyed it. If you're feeling kind today, please drop me a review so I know how I'm doing, because I do love to hear from you guys :)