Miss Atomic Bomb (Jughead Jones)

Part 9

Stealthily, I grabbed the bottle and read it.

"Topamax, perscribed to Isabelle Simpson. Take once daily or as suggested by doctor."

Of course I had no idea what that was so I looked it up and found it was a bipolar medication. The perfect, sweet Isabelle was bipolar. The medicine bottle was stashed in my safe along with the picture I had snapped of her and her mother's fight.

"Uhmm, okay."

I slipped into the seat next to her and let out an awkward cough.

"So, dissecting frogs, that's interesting." I said in an attempt to start a conversation, but to no avail since she just nodded her head in agreement.

We sat in silence as we prepared the frog until she finally spoke up.

"Do you think Cheryl had something to do with Jason?"

I looked at her in complete shock, "Why would you say that?"

"Well," she started quietly, "her story doesn't really add up and I asked her about it this morning, but she got extremely defensive and angry at me."

"It's possible, but why don't you believe her? Aren't you friends?" I asked her.

She shrugged her shoulders, "Not really. I usually hang out with her because I've known her for so long. I'm usually a bit shy, if you couldn't tell, so I don't make friends easily."

She smiled at me a little bit and nervously tucked a light strand of hair behind her ear.

"Well then we'll be friends." I stopped to think. "We can hang out at Pop's later."

She beamed at me, but her expression slowly changed and she pointed to Cheryl.

"I'm fact I'm amazing." Cheryl said loudly before plunging her scalpel into her frog and ripping it open.

-3:00 pm.-

The library smelled faintly of old books and flowers as I wandered in. My father told me I was supposed to meet Camden here for my therapy session. The problem was it was empty.

My eyes settled on a book sitting on a table near the window. After walking closer to it I found Camden in the corner reading "A Tale of Two Cities" by Charles Dickens.

"Oh Marina, You're here." She said, shutting the book and setting it down on table. "Have a seat."

I slid into a chair next to her and crossed my arms and legs. Maybe if I looked uninterested she would get discouraged and let me leave.

"So I know you don't want to do this and that you hate the fact that it's almost like a therapy session an-"

"Is a therapy session." I interrupted her.

She rolled her eyes, "Look, we don't even have to talk about anything serious unless you want to. So let's talk about something else."

My finger tapped against my phone case as I held it in my arms.

"Alright, what do we have in common?" She asked.

I fiddled with my hair and mumbled a barley audible, "Nothing."

Her head shook and her brown waves shook with the movement, "Our siblings are in the same grade."