As if I didn't already have mommy issues.

Reggie couldn’t believe it. Him paired up with a band geek?  Luckily, Reggie was an 11 on a scale of cool. Hanging around with a 2 for a while couldn’t harsh his image that much – right? Wrong. He was already getting weird looks from the football team; all staring at him as if he had a choice. He didn’t. And he made that perfectly clear when he sat down across from Nerissa at one of the outdoor tables in the courtyard. “Guess you won the jockpot. Meanwhile, I get stuck with Glee. I swear, sometimes life is so unfair.”

Toni rolled her eyes when she heard the football player begin to rant. Yet another northsider trying to throw the blame on the southside, surprise surprise. “Chill out northsider, you could break a nail or something.” She crossed her arms over her chest and rose a brow watching him pace back and forth. Though this wasn’t at all her problem, the pacing began to grow annoying. “First of all, who said I was the one who snitched?” Toni almost laughed at the comment Reggie made. “Wow, I’m terrified. Remind me never to mess with you.” 

“Please. I know it wasn’t you who snitched. You don’t have the lady-balls.” Reggie snorted, then sighed. If it was anyone, it was someone with a vendetta against him. Which, of course, would be her little serpent friend, Sweet Pea. After the brawl the Bulldogs had against the Serpents, it was painfully obvious the sweetie of the group had issues with how it ended; a gunshot in the air by the lovely and enchanting, Veronica Lodge. “I want you to tell your friend, Eat Pee, that this isn’t over. Reggie hasn’t had his lunch and he’s hungry for some serpent nutrition.” with that said, Reggie flicked his tongue at Toni and smirked.

“We don’t know anything for certain, Reggie… It’s the latest theory.” A blatant lie. Of course she knew what was going on, but telling this jumped up jock? Not the best idea. Especially when he was advocating for the Red Circle… Or at least a protection ring of sorts. “Mr Andrews– we are working on that. But going after whoever this is–” Betty glanced back at Archie to see that classic furrowed brow he wore so well, “– it’s suicide. We don’t know enough. We just need to keep a close eye on one another - okay?”  Betty urged as her gaze locked with the larger than average sports star; “If you sit, I can walk you through a few things but… You have to promise not to tell anyone what we are discussing.” She would of course, fluff the truth slightly - avoid certain aspects, but she needed to talk the boy down. He was full of adrenaline and testosterone. She didn’t need a vigilante group and a masked killer on her hands. 

“Keep an eye on each other? You mean, like you were doin’, Peeping-Betty?” If Betty was so into banding together why was she eavesdropping from a safe distance? Investigating was in her blood. Curiosity was her drive. Which is why Reggie decided to take a seat on one of the table-benches and gesture with a hand for her to join him. “Fine, Coop. Lets sit and talk. If you can make sense of this, I promise to stay out of it. I mean, I’m not looking for a fight here — but I’m also not gonna sit by while we’re being teared apart by some lunatic hiding behind a hood — I was nearly expelled. You know, I’m, like, the next Tom Brady... I can’t get thrown into the abyss like that has-been Clayton.” 

The comment about her mother gave her cause to roll her eyes harder than she had ever done so. Inappropriate. What could she expect? Her mother was talk of the town… But when Reggie’s focus turned to Archie, Betty swept in to tear it away again; “I don’t know if it is him… But - for your sake, you need to stop dealing. If he is targeting sinners… you are empowering these teens to act out and sin.” Her tone was constant, firm - in control. She would never admit to just how close she was to the Black Hood - even though she didn’t want to be, but Reggie needed to make himself less of a target. Sure, he was an idiot, but he didn’t deserve to be on that hit list. “You need to keep below the radar, Reggie. Seriously. Just… Stop.” The concern seeped into her tone now, perhaps giving away some hint of just how terrified she really was. She knew the football team were well aware of her ‘dark Betty’ episode, but she would not let herself slip this time. Too much was riding on it. 

“That’s what he’s doing? Attacking sinners?” Reg turned to Archie with confusion then reverted his hard gaze back onto the blonde. “How does Andrews’ father fit into that? Or is Pop the sinner?” None of this really made any sense to Reggie but that didn’t mean he wasn’t intrigued. He just didn’t dig into it as deeply as Betty and Archie did. But maybe it was time he should. After all, his best friend Moose did get shot up, and if Betty was right, then it was Reggie’s fault for selling Midge the Jingle Jangle. “Fine!” the jock grabbed his ball from Betty’s tray and huffed; defeat settling into his features. “I’ll stop sellin’ the JJ. But – I don’t think we should wait to see who the next target is. I think Andrews had the right idea. We should strike while the iron is hot. Even if that means laying low for a bit… We’re not dropping this, right? I mean, what’s the next move?” If there was a plan, Reggie would be on board. He’d much rather channel his anger toward outsiders, anyhow.

Betty was almost surprised that Reggie remembered her name… With a look of irritation bubbling away behind her usual sweet facade, she looked up and met his gaze with her cold one. “I don’t know Mantle… Stiff anyone with a supply recently? Revenge is always a good motive.” She suggested in a smug tone. “Care to make a statement?” She mocked further but reeled her neck in very quickly. She was tired and eggy… Reggie was not to be challenged. Even she knew that. “But really? I don’t have a clue. Hadn’t given it much thought. And no, I am not going to write about it. The Blue and Gold is on a short hiatus for this fortnight.” As if she didn’t already have enough on her metaphorical and now, thanks to the dirty football, literal plate… She glanced up at Archie who was slowly encroaching but he knew Betty could hold her own. 

“Maybe it’s someone who knows about your little vigilante past time?” She suggested in a hushed tone, leaning in ever so slightly. 

“No, blondie. I didn’t stiff anyone…Which is a real shame ‘cause I saw what Mrs. C wore at the SoDale gala opening. MILF.” Reggie’s tongue suggestively slides past his teeth and over lips. It was clear in his unfriendly demeanor that he was only trying to get under that ice cold exterior of hers. Which should be relatively easy considering there was a rumor floating around not long ago about Betty flying off the handle at a moment’s notice. “Is that statement enough for you, Mini Coop?” he grinned, wearing the dimples in his tanned cheeks with boasting pridefulness. When Betty mentioned The Red Circle, Reggie turned to Archie with anger shimmering behind his dark eyes. He told Archie that would come back to bite him on the ass. Wearing hoods in that video didn’t mean jack-shit. Everyone knew who they were. Including Weatherbee, whom suspended the entire team. “So you think this is the Black Hood?” Reggie asked, returning his heated gaze onto the blonde.

Betty, with her ear to the ground, had heard about and witnessed the raking and searching of Reggie Mantle’s locker. She wasn’t exactly sure why until she heard him bellowing out his frustrations. Keeping her distance, but not too far away, Betty stood so she could overhear. She kept her eyes trained on the Bulldog, watching every move and every muscle that tensed. She could see how enraged he was. He shouldn’t be selling that horrendous substance… but whoever ratted him out was in serious trouble with Reggie. But, definitely more concerning - did this put Mantle on the radar for The Black Hood? 

      Reggie was on his way across the yard when he spotted Betty Cooper trying her best to hide the fact that she overheard everything he just confessed to. What was the blonde’s interest? Was this going to be for her next exposé? What, torturing her mother by plastering her mugshot all over the Blue and Gold wasn’t enough? “Well, if it isn’t Nancy Drew... Looking for your next headline, Cooper?” Reggie places his dirty football on top of her food tray and watches with ill-humor as it rolls around, likely, contaminating her lunch. If he had to set an example with B-Coop, then so be it. Riverdale needed to learn. Reggie Mantle wasn’t one to trifle with. “—Stay out of it, Andrews!” the jock yelled when he noticed the red hair of his frenemy sprinting over. “Tell me, Betts. Who do you think did it? Since you have that cute little nose of yours in everyone’s business, you must have heard something?”

Veronica eventually relaxed, sitting poised across from Reggie as his face turned a different color and practically matched Cheryl’s custom cherry-red pumps. “Could you be any less of a pig?” Ronnie feigned disgust, just so her friends wouldn’t get suspicious before she turned to Betty and gave her a secret look that only the girl next door would be able to decode. 

At the prospect of a party, everyone groaned, except for of course, Veronica herself. She loved parties. Especially when she was the one throwing them. That wasn’t the case now primarily because the timing seemed inappropriate. At the same time, letting loose might help get everyone’s minds off the serial killer making it’s rounds across the Northside. “You know what would truly make it a win?” Cheryl interrupted before Betty, Veronica, or Jughead could speak up. “Is if you weren’t there.” With the bitchiest smile Cheryl could muster, she looked up at Reggie and shrugged. “Absolutely not,” Jughead intervened, “Haven’t any one of you read a horror novel? Reggie, okay, maybe not. But, seriously. It’s like you’re asking for Riverdale to turn into the third installment of Cabin Fever. Are you nuts?!” 

Beside Jughead, Kevin spoke up by saying a party sounded great. He was becoming the custom third wheel and really aimed to break that habit. “We’ll see,” Veronica finally answered for everyone. “Betty, let’s go. Juggy, Kev, we’ll see you later. And Cheryl– we’ll see you at practice. As for you Reggie–” Before Veronica could walk off, she gently perused past Reggie, brushing his shoulder on purpose. It was a cat and mouse game they played. “Nevermind. Later!” 

As Veronica stood up and said her goodbyes to everyone but Reggie, the jock sneered over his letterman jacket, yet still admired that cushiony-ass swaying beneath a yellow and blue vixen skirt. My, oh my. “Later is right, palomita.” Reggie heard Veronica’s father use the term more than once and decided to translate; it meant little dove. There was also a translation that said it meant popcorn, but Reggie was sure Hiram wasn’t calling his little angel a crunchy, salty piece of mmm-mmm-mmm, even if she was. “Imitating her father, Reg? You think that will get you to third-base?” Jughead smirked around a mouthful of cafeteria food. “Er, the girl got daddy issues...” Reggie spat defensively, as if to say duhhhh. Of course he thought it would work. It has worked. She needed a strong shoulder to cry on and Archie and Hiram was major disappointments. Not that he would tell Jughead that. He’d squeal and then the sex-games would be off.

On the football field, the Bulldogs were practicing for their big game, while the cheerleaders worked on their routine in the gym. However practice was cut early due to the coach’s bizarre absence, which led to the boys devising a plan to prank the girls. “Reggie, this is a bad idea.” whined Trevor, the mayor’s son. “If you want to be a little bitch about it, you can trade in your jersey for a skirt and some pom-poms.” Reggie chuckled behind a plastic mask. Trevor retreated and eventually snuck away. Which was a good thing since he didn’t have a heavy enough sack to be a Bulldog. “In position, Moose?” Reggie asked into his phone. On the other side of the line, Moose stood in the basement with his hand on the circuit breaker. “10-four, Mad Dog.” the third person on the line was Jimmy, the team’s running back, “J-Dog, all set?” Jimmy wrapped chains around the main exit and slipped a lock on. “Do I have to say 10-four?” Jimmy asked and Reggie groaned. “Do you have it or not, numb-nuts?” — Jim sighs, “10-four.” Moose kills the power. Reggie listens at the emergency exit as the girls complain and murmur to themselves, then panic arises when someone heads for the doors only to find out they’ve been locked. A couple of seconds later the emergency door is kicked open and Reggie walks in with a purge-like mask on. The Bulldogs then show up behind him, all in masks too, armed with squirt-guns and water balloons. “FIRE AWAY!” Reggie roars, spraying the girls down.