now tell me, how did all my dreams turn to nightmares?

Chapter 3

Cheryl was still concerned, so to avoid any additional surprises she quickly looked over every inch of her pale skin in search for any tattoos. She was thankful to find none; the additional holes in her body were more than enough for her to deal with.

Wasting no more time, she got into the shower and adjusted the faucet. The water was much colder than she was used to due to the low-end water heater being used for the trailer. The redhead did her best to get in and out as quickly as possible and prayed she wouldn't catch a cold from the lack of hot water.

After finishing her shower, Cheryl wrapped herself in a dingy towel and retreated back to her bedroom to finish getting ready. Once she had dried her hair and changed into the outfit she had previously selected, she went searching for makeup. She was not happy with the selection she found.

"How is it possible for any version of me to not own one tube of red lipstick?" she asked aloud in a huff. Cheryl made due with what she had, opting for a more natural look than what she had woken up in the previous night. She needed to look as good as possible, and without access to her signature color, playing it safe felt like the best option.

"Cher? You almost ready?" she heard Jughead's voice call out from the living room. Her uncle must have left the door unlocked.

"Almost," Cheryl yelled back as she uncapped a tube of nude lipstick. "You can come in, just putting on some finishing touches."

"Want to take a few hits before we-" he stopped when he saw her and his face twisted in confusion. "Who are you and what did you do with Cheryl? You look like you're heading to an interview or something."

"Who would go to an interview in a halter top and jeans? You know what? Don't answer that," she responded before blotting her lips on a tissue before discarding it into the wastebin.

"Maybe, but where's the grunge? Where's the dark eyes and black lipstick? I haven't seen you without a flannel in basically a decade."

"Consider this the new and vastly improved Cheryl." She collected her things and maneuvered around him and back into the bedroom. The redhead grabbed the backpack wedged between the bed and the desk and began going through its contents to make sure she had everything she needed for the day.

Jughead went to her closet and began shuffling through the clothes before pulling out a leather jacket and tossing it onto the bed next to where she was organizing her bag. "At least put that on; you're freaking me out."

Cheryl rolled her eyes and scoffed before grabbing the jacket and sliding her arms through the sleeves. "Happy now?"

"Eh," he shrugged. "Less creeped out I guess. Your face is weird."

"Well your everything is weird," she retorted. "Are we going to school or not?"

"I asked you if you wanted to take a few hits before we leave," the boy reminded her.

"You want to go to school high?"

"Yeah, we do every day. What's with you? I thought that shit would have worn off by now," he questioned, his expression changing to one of concern.

"Nothing is with me," she huffed. "I just would like to be sober for... nevermind... are we going or not?"

"Yeah... um..." he squinted at her, not believing the words he was hearing. "You driving?"

"I have a car? You mean I don't have to ride to school on the back of your motorcycle?"

"Actually," he grabbed a keyring off her desk, "I think it may be safer if I drive... until you're you again."