Chapter Text
In all her seventeen years of life, Cheryl’s never been particularly involved in the 'dating scene'.
It’s not that she has no intention or desire to find a partner - she does. It’s simply never seemed to be the appropriate time nor place in her life to meet the type of people that she desires.
Growing up, she could never understand the infatuation that other girls in her school would develop for boys such as Archie Andrews, Reggie Mantle, Moose Mason… Yes, they were perfectly respectable young gentlemen (for the most part) but Cheryl couldn’t even fathom the idea of wanting to kiss them, or wanting to profess her undying love for them, nor any of the other equally as ridiculous things that her female counterparts seemed so eager to do.
Ultimately, she decided that she just hadn’t met the right boy yet. They were all loathsome and unappealing for the time being, but the tides would change as she got older.
Eventually she realised that was not the case.
In fact, she has Heather to thank for that long overdue realisation, and the blossoming of her first young love was the first time she allowed herself to cease the desperate search for shreds of attractiveness within any and every boy she saw. The first time she entertained the idea that perhaps she wasn’t broken, just different, and maybe that was okay.
Of course, Penelope soon brought that all crashing down. And with her mother’s ruthless shattering of Cheryl’s first love, came the equally as painful destruction of the delicate self confidence and - dare she say - pride that she’d managed to build up, with help from Heather.
And so, since then, she’s stuck safely to the sidelines.
She’s often there to lend Veronica or Josie an ear to rant to after a particularly unsavoury date, or to offer a few words of advice in a sticky dating dilemma… but never has she required the favour be returned. Perhaps that will suffice for the time being.
And as Cheryl peers over the top of her history textbook at the sound of an irritatingly blithe giggle, her eyes settle on Veronica Lodge, seated beside her, who’s looking down at her phone with flushed cheeks and a giddy smile on her lips. It leaves Cheryl with no question whatsoever as to who she’s messaging. It’s pathetic, really , but as Veronica’s friend, Cheryl feels she owes it to her to indulge on at least a little gossiping about her obvious feelings for a certain ginger-haired stallion.
“So what’s the deal with you and Archie? Is it back on for real, this time?” Cheryl asks, a soft smirk on her face as she folds one leg over the other, adjusting her position on the couch in the student lounge to be able to peer at Veronica with a knowing smile.
Veronica shifts, a soft blush tainting her cheeks and she lifts her shoulders into a shrug. “Oh, I don’t know, Cheryl. But I mean, I… I think so,” she shares a slightly shy yet elated smile with her friend, eyes flickering down to her phone.
“That’s great, Ronnie! I’m happy for you,” Cheryl smiles, reaching out and squeezing Veronica’s arm gently. It’s a little over enthused, but true. Veronica deserves happiness, and she somehow manages to find that with Archie Andrews - even though the reasoning for that is still at large a mystery to Cheryl. But he’s a good guy, she knows that much, he did save her life after all, breaking his own hand in the process, and she respects him endlessly.
Smiling a little wider, Veronica leans into Cheryl, slinging a loose arm around her shoulders and squeezing lightly. “What about you? Any potential beaus I should know about?” she asks, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.
Cheryl breathes a chuckle, shaking her head with a roll of her eyes. There is, as a matter of fact, no one who’s presently piquing her interest. But even if there was, it’s unlikely she’d be able to confide in Veronica about it given that the subject of her affection would undoubtedly be at the feminine end of the gender spectrum. She doesn’t believe Veronica to be homophobic - not by any standards, and in fact, the girl could very well be bicurious or something of the sort herself - but Cheryl’s hesitant to divulge details of her sexuality to anyone. Even Jason had never known of her brief, naïve love affair with Heather.
Grimacing and resting her chin on Veronica’s shoulder, she shakes her head once more. “No one of interest, Ronnie. You’d be the first to know.” Which is probably true, because while Cheryl perhaps isn’t as close to Veronica as Betty is; Veronica is the closest thing to a best friend that she has.
“No one in this hillbilly town is good enough for you anyway, Bombshell,” Veronica teases, lightheartedly, and it brings the smile back to Cheryl’s face.
“Maybe you’re right, Lodge.”
Deep down in her not-so-cold nor resilient heart, Cheryl really hopes that she isn’t.