AN: Any recognisable dialogue belongs exclusively to the Netflix Original T.V Show; Riverdale
Sugar, Spice and Everything Nice
Forsythia Jones; Jellybean to her family, JB to her friends. To him, she's always been something else. Riverdale AU (Aged-up Jellybean)
Chapter III – Sugar
"I think many of us, maybe the entire town, had been hoping against hope that somehow Jason Blossom hadn't drowned on July 4th. That we'd come to school Monday morning, and there Jason would be. Or that we'd see him and Cheryl in a booth at Pop's. But that was before the undeniable, irrevocable fact of his bloated, waterlogged body. A corpse with a bullet hole in his forehead and terrible secrets that could only be revealed by the cold steel blade of the coroner's autopsy scalpel or the tell-tale beating of a guilty heart."
"Hey Pop, Jughead been in today?"
Pop Tate offers her a kind smile as she sits comfortably on a ruby coloured stool, lazily resting her arms on the counter. "Not today Miss Jellybean." He answers jovially.
JB nods, it's really too early for Juggy to be at the Chocklit Shoppe, but she'd been woken with the dawn at Thorn Hill, to the news that Jason Blossom had been shot, and his body dumped in Sweet Water River. "Can I get a milkshake?" She asks softly, "Banana please."
Pop Tate smiles, and not a few minutes later, places the sunshine yellow drink before her. "One Banana milkshake, with two cherries on top, just how you like it Miss Jellybean."
"Thanks Pop." JB digs through her bag for her wallet, pausing when she opens it to find three crisp, hundred-dollar bills tucked where yesterday, there was only small change. It is so like Cheryl, she thinks as she stares down at the bills, to make her want to sob in public. JB hands one bill to Pop, breathing through the tightness in her throat and shaking off the urge to cry. "When Jughead comes in, can you get him his favourites?"
She doesn't offer a further explanation of just why she's covering Juggy's tab, but as Pop nods and pats her hand in a way that's supposed to be comforting, JB knows she doesn't have to. Of all the people on the Northside, Pop understands better than most, the poverty of the Southside. "Of course, Miss Jellybean." He answers, and opens the register, slipping the bill beneath the tray of coins.
He leaves her to drink her milkshake in peace, and JB sips at it slowly, not in a shallow attempt to savour the taste, but to forget just what she witnessed on the banks of Sweetwater River. She looks down at her hands – she can still feel Cheryl's hand shaking in hers, still see the flashing lights of Sheriff Keller's patrol car, still hear the zipping of the Coroner's body-bag... smell the faint scent of rot in the air. Nausea strikes like a physical blow, and she staggers from her seat and down the few stairs like a drunkard, retching into the flowerbeds at the corner of the building. He was so young, just seventeen to her almost sixteen; a child by the world's standards. They weren't close, their relationship a mirror of Cheryl's and Jughead's; to call Jason an acquaintance was a stretch, for JB had truly only known him abstractly, he was always just Cheryl's twin, but he didn't deserve to die with water in his lungs and a bullet in his forehead.
She wipes her mouth with her sleeve and sinks down onto the curb, cradling her head in her hands. JB hasn't lived a sheltered life; growing up on the Southside amongst warring gangs she's always understood that people are cruel, and it's the innocent who suffer the wrongs of the world… but murder… she's never known this. Jason's body becomes Jughead's and she almost retches again, the very thought of it being Juggy who'd washed up on the riverbank causing her stomach to turn violently.
Her phone vibrates in her pocket as she focuses on her breathing, attempting to force the nausea to subside. Just last night Cheryl was blatantly spiking JB's cola with expensive rum liberated from her Father's liquor cabinet, and futilely trying to convince her to participate in Cheryl's favourite twisted Party Games. It was harmless, mindless fun; until it wasn't because yesterday was gone and only the cruel light of today remained. She thinks perhaps Cheryl hadn't believed Jason was dead, not really, until they were stood at the river side watching as his body was loaded into the back of the Coroner's van.
It buzzes again, and she groans, tugging it from her jacket with little difficulty. The text is short, to the point and out of the blue.
"You can sleep on my couch."
JB stares at the screen in disbelief. "Are we speaking again?"
"We are."
She's halfway through a response when another text comes through.
"I'm sorry I disappeared."
JB backspaces and begins again, interrupted almost immediately by a third text.
"I'll cook."
Without replying, JB tiredly tucks the phone back into her pocket. It's another option, an option she hadn't believed she had a few days ago, but she can't bring herself to agree; she just wants to go home, to slip beneath the covers on her bed and never re-emerge. JB hasn't been home since her fight with FP, hadn't wanted to brave her Father's indifference, instead opting to weather Penelope Blossom's cool hatred at Thorn Hill. She knows however, that her welcome with the Blossom's is worn out, Mr. Blossom expressing that she was to make herself scarce before he and Penelope returned from the Sheriff's station, much to Cheryl's open distain.
JB doesn't make her decision for hours; she uses Cheryl's money to put gas in her bike, and heads for the Quarry, wasting time laying on the old wooden jetty, dipping her toes into the water and pretending she's not going to take him up on his offer of a place to sleep. Later though, she inexplicitly finds herself at his door, fidgeting nervously as she waits for him to answer her knock. He doesn't say anything when he does, simply opening the door wider; a clear invitation of welcome.
"I'm still mad at you." JB blurts, hanging awkwardly in the doorway.
Joaquin smiles wanly. "Just come inside JB."
She hesitates. Out of the corner of her eye she can see her family's trailer; the lights are off, it looks… cold, as though no one even lives there at all. She tucks her hands deeper into her pockets and steps forward, ducking beneath Joaquin's outstretched arm; his trailer is warm, the couch is made up as a bed and there's food cooking on the stove… it feels like a home. JB surreptitiously rubs at her chest, just below her left collarbone, but it fails to ease the ache in her heart.
"How'd you know I'd come?" JB asks after he's closed the door and disappeared behind the wall separating the small kitchenette to the rest of the trailer.
"I didn't." He answers, returning with two bowls piled high with spaghetti and bolognaise sauce. Joaquin offers her a bowl with a soft smile. "But I hoped."
"No more disappearing." She demands.
Joaquin nods his agreement. "I'm not going anywhere."
JB breaks eye contact first and turns her attention to the bowl in her hands, steadfastly ignoring the coil of dread in her stomach and chokes down a forkful of spaghetti. It's too many coincidences; Joaquin's weeks of radio silence, her Father's return to the bottom of a bottle… Jason's murder.
JB takes another bite and swallows the urge to cry, hoping, praying, that two of the people she loves most, are just victims of her overactive imagination.
She enters the Biology Lab, just as the first bell rings. The room is busy, half the class is seated and the rest stand, mingling and gossiping before Doctor Phylum finally finds his way to the classroom. JB surveys the empty seats warily; there's an open spot next to Juggy, another beside the new girl she hasn't met yet, as well as an empty desk at the back of the room.
"Are you living mannequins suggesting I had something to do with my Brother's death?"
Cheryl's voice sounds loudly, and JB makes her decision, slamming her textbook onto the counter. Tina and Ginger jump, the loud noise frightening them from their interrogation.
"Move." JB orders, dropping her bag beside her chair. "Or I'll make you."
The girls scramble off the desk, and Cheryl smirks as JB takes a seat. "Fellow Twin." She greets and JB quirks a smile, her stomach turning as Cheryl grips her hand beneath the desk. "I'd forgotten how handy it is to have a Southsider around."
"Seats everyone! Pair up, gloves on, scalpels up!" Doctor Phylum calls as he enters, glasses askew and miscellaneous papers falling from his satchel.
"Can I be with Cheryl?" Archie exclaims loudly, and JB clenches her teeth, caught between dread and relief. Archie's interjection has undoubtedly spared her from an uncomfortable conversation with her entirely too observant best friend, but thrown her to the wolves with her Brother, who she's likely to now be paired with.
"Ooh, and I want to be with Betty!"
"Oh, uh," Betty begins, "I was thinking I would partner with Kevin."
"Nope." Moose states loudly, "Keller is with me. We like, talked."
"Moose! You can't do me like that bro." Reggie complains. "Fine, Jones, you're with me." JB wonders if her day can get any worse, even as Jughead stands, a confused expression on his face. "Not you Doctor Frankenstein, I want Wednesday Adams."
JB reluctantly gathers her things, and takes the open seat beside Reggie, staunchly ignoring his wide smile.
"Forsythia." He utters slyly as Doctor Phylum begins with his instructions.
"Reginald." JB returns.
He nudges her with his knee beneath the table and JB straightens her back, moving her leg out away even as he tilts his head toward her. "Oh, c'mon JB, we're friends, don't I get a smile?"
"I wouldn't go that far Reggie." She murmurs, leaning over to look at the frog they're to dissect.
"You wound me Jones, after all we've been through." He sighs dramatically.
JB rolls her eyes and follows Doctor Phylum's directions, cutting into the frog and pinning the flaps of skin down as demonstrated. "I wasn't aware we'd been through anything at all Mantle."
Reggie hooks his foot underneath the straight bar between the legs of the stool and yanks – JB reacts on instinct and slams her fist down, embedding the scalpel she's holding deep into the table top. The classroom seems too quiet as he looks at her, a cruel grin blooming on his lips as he wiggles his unharmed fingers.
"Careful little Snake, this is the Northside. You're outnumbered here."
"Outnumbered?" She growls. "If one of your Bulldogs lay a hand on me, being on your precious Northside won't mean anything at all." JB yanks the scalpel from the table. "Threaten me again Reggie, and next time I won't miss." She drops the metal implement in the bowl with the frog and removes her gloves. "Doctor Phylum, I don't feel well, can I go to the Nurse's office?"
The frazzled biology teacher nods absently. "Huh? Uh, of course Miss Jones."
JB shoulders her bag and collects her notes. She's halfway to the door when Doctor Phylum speaks again. "Just a minute Miss Jones." He calls, and she pauses. "Mr Mantle, escort her please."
JB opens her mouth to protest but Doctor Phylum raises a hand. "No arguments Miss Jones, I won't have you fainting in the hallway."
Reggie, toying with the scalpel JB left behind, scoffs. "If Jones faints in the corridor, I'm not lugging her ass to the Nurse's Office."
Behind her back, JB flips him off and, ignoring Doctor Phylum's loud chastisement of Reggie, sees herself out. The noise of metal on linoleum follows her, and her arm is caught in a firm grip before she's even halfway down the corridor.
"You're not sick Beanie."
Jellybean shakes off his grip. "Wow Juggy, your mind, it's like a steel trap. Nothing will ever get past you."
"Witty." Jughead quips but follows her nonetheless. They pass the Nurse's office without ceremony. "What happened in there?"
Jellybean scoffs as she pushes open the double doors leading outside. "Nothing Jughead."
He blocks her path. "It didn't look like nothing."
"Oh, like you care." The biting retort stumbles from her lips before she can consider the potential impact.
Jughead blanches. "Beanie."
"Don't worry about it Juggy." Jellybean replies softly, reverting to the nickname of their childhood and ducking under his arm. "It's nothing I can't handle."
"Have you spoken to Archie lately?" Jughead changes the subject abruptly, and Jellybean stops.
"Why?"
Jughead shrugs nonchalantly. "No reason."
"You're lying." Jellybean accuses.
"So are you." Jughead returns acidly.
"What do you want from me Jughead?" She asks loudly. "Huh? I'm not going to hold your hand and tell you everything is fine to absolve whatever guilt you're feeling about leaving." Jellybean gestures between them. "That's not what this is. I love you Juggy, but I am so god damn mad at you."
He looks pitiful, and Jellybean thinks she couldn't have hurt him more if she'd hit him. "Don't, don't look at me like that." He begs. "You have every right to be mad at me, but please, I just want to talk."
"Are you coming home?" It's like he turns to stone before her eyes, and his answering silence is all she ever expected to receive when asking this question. "Right." She nods. "I didn't think so."
Jughead reaches for her again, but JB backs away. "Please Jellybean."
She shakes her head. "I don't want to talk Jughead... not to you."
AN: And so we have Joaquin, who simply begged to be written into this story.
Thank you all for sticking with me, I know this has been a long wait.