The Athlete, the Sweetheart, and the Cynic

Reggie Mantle

It was the middle of the ninth grade that Reggie Mantle, an athletic, good looking, rich kid, showed up at Riverdale High School. He was almost a head taller than everyone in class, except me. I had always been the tallest, and everyone looked up to me, although unfortunately only literally. Nobody looked up to me in actual admiration, and Reggie certainly was no exception.

He walked through the hall with his head held high, his chest puffed out, and his nose in the air. He didn't realize that his muscles weren't as developed as he thought they were, and his height wasn't as impressive next to me. In the hall, he walked much to close to me, and knocked over my books, then proceeded to yell at me to watch where I was going. I adjusted my beanie, and kept walking. At lunch, I slipped in next to Betty, who was quizzing Archie on spelling homework.

"No, Archie, it's consciousness,C-O-N-S-C-I-O-U-S-N-E-S-S, not C-O-N-T-I-O-U-S-N-E-S-S... Oh hi, Juggie! Do you want the rest of my chips, I don't think I can eat anymore, not with Archie's spelling like this, we've got to get his grade up at least to a B, hopefully an A..."

Her run on sentence faded as Reggie entered the room. Without hesitating, he strode over to our table, making eye contact with me, and said, "Hey, Wednesday Addams. What'cha eating? Oh, Miss Perfect's leftover potato chips that she, out of the goodness of her pure heart, let the poor orphan, Bowlhead, have, because he doesn't have any parents, or anyone who cares about him. Yeah, that's right, I got you all figured out, you..." Betty stood up, and replied in such a dark and commanding way that I had never heard her use before, "You leave him alone, you jerk. Nobody asked you to say anything."

"Oh, it's okay, blondie, you don't have to defend for this mistreated emo kid. I know you're the perfect girl, who always does the right thing, but this time you don't have to defend this scrawny mutant. Don't let him bully you into sticking up for you..."

Betty cut him off, "He's not a bully, he's my friend. You're the bully, you ASSHOLE. You have the rest of your life to be a jerk, why not take today off, huh Reggie?"

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I don't know how long Reggie and Betty went at it, because after a while, I spaced out. I was in total shock. My mouth was about as open as Pop's Diner, and I looked over and saw Archie doing the very same thing. The sweet, innocent, adorable girl next door I thought I knew had spunk!

Suddenly, my mind snapped back into alertness when I felt a tug on my precious beanie, that I always wore. I looked up to see Reggie waving it, and Betty desperately trying to recover it. Reggie mocked it, saying it was much too small, so ugly and out of fashion. I did absolutely nothing, except touch my hair, that I was so insecure about. My head felt so small underneath my fingers, and I could feel the texture of my soft curls that I hated so much. How did Reggie know how small and insignificant I felt without my hat? That feeling that crept up on me, that made me want to run and hide, that feeling that was under control a little when I wore that hat.

But I realized that Reggie didn't know my odd phobia, I truthfully don't even know what I'm afraid of. Maybe of getting hurt...

I saw Betty out the corner of my eye grabbing Reggie's arm, and retraining him so that she could grab my beanie with her other hand, and she matter-of-factly handed it to me, which I plopped back on my head. In a taunting voice, Reggie continued, "Gee, Betty, it must be hard having a crush on some loner who doesn't even like girls."

Betty raised her eyebrows, wordlessly commanding him to leave.

"Did you hear me, Goldilocks?"

"Oh I heard you, I just don't care. Time for you to leave, Reggie, you're not getting anywhere with me."

Surprisingly, Reggie accepted defeat, and walked away.

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"Wow, Betty, I didn't know you had that in you! That was amazing!" exclaimed Archie.

"Thanks, Arch," Betty replied shyly.

Archie nudged me, prodding me to say something to Betty.

"Thank you, Bets, it means a lot," I thanked her.

"Of course, Juggie, I wasn't going to let him destroy you." Betty said, putting her hand on my shoulder. I didn't mean to, but I slightly recoiled at the physical contact.

"What was that intervention move you used on Reggie, Betty?" Archie posed. "That was pretty sweet!"

"What move do you mean, Archie?" Betty responded, a confused look on her face.

"I mean, when you grabbed his arm to get Jughead's hat. How did you keep him still? I mean, that guy's pretty strong! When Jughead and I were in gym class earlier, he could do 75 pushups! I can only do 60, and Jughead..." Archie glanced at me, not quite daring to finish his sentence.

"Yeah, you don't need to go announcing my lack of stereotypical masculinity," I said sarcastically. "I mean, I don't really mind though. I have other things going for me. Y'know, like my superior intelligence, my superhuman good looks... But we were talking about Betty, not me. Betty, you were saying?"

Betty started to blush, I assume because she was generally a modest person, not wanting to bring to much attention to herself. "I almost forgot what we were talking about. Archie, you wanted to know how I got Jughead's hat back? I just held Reggie back, nothing special. I mean, he's not THAT strong." She added in a slyer tone, "That's nothing, compared to this self defense move I know. Jug, put me in a headlock." When I hesitated, she snapped at me, yet surprisingly still sounding good-natured, "Oh c'mon, Jug, I just saved your life, it's the least you can do."

I complied, and she proceeded to show Archie how to escape from a headlock, which greatly impressed him, and left her beaming. I had to admit, merely seeing a smile on her face made me strangely happy, I don't know why. I knew her showing off wasn't meant to impress me necessarily, but it did.

While I still had her head in the crook of my arm for her little demonstration, I whispered in her ear, "Asshole?"

"WHAT?" she whispered hoarsely back.

"You called Reggie an asshole," I clarified.

"And so?" Betty said with mock confusion.

I grinned in answer. Betty knew exactly what I was speaking of. Her good-girl image might, just might be a facade, or at least played up a bit. I started to realize from that day on, Elizabeth Cooper was not all she seemed to be. She was more. Much more.