"I know we've both been dreading this conversation," Honey says as he stands over me, "but I have to ask why you have decided to disregarded this opportunity." I sigh. He's been pulled into the garbage too? Jesus I can't keep fighting about this stupid scholarship. "It's an amazing opportunity that few students have been offered and they are actively trying to recruit you. I can't see why you'd pass this up."

"Well if we look at it like that it seems ridiculous that I keep tossing it aside," I tell him, "but if you consider the fact that I've had a tough time as is and I really feel safe here in Riverdale maybe you can understand a bit more." He doesn't seem convinced. "I have a life here. A good one and I haven't seen a good life in so long."

"This is your good life?" He asks me, "the place you got shot at. Where someone revealed your past addictions someone that was supposed to be your friend? The place where your family has been murdered and committed murder. This is your happy place?" I shift awkwardly.

"You looked through my file?" I ask him.

"I wanted more insight," he tells me, "someone needs to be proactive in your life and I feel like you have a lack of that at home."

"I'm 18 I don't need someone watching over me," I say as I fold my arms over my chest, "honestly Honey I appreciate you caring it's just that I've already decided that I'm not going to the program. I have a couple other schools that have reached out and I've applied to where I've gotten in to. And I get to finish my senior year."

"Well it seems like you've made up your mind," Honey says, "you are dismissed." I nod and stand moving out. I can tell this is far from over but it's never going to be. With this dismissal it's time for me to rush over to that fucking FBI for teens thingy. Somehow Betty roped me into going with her. I mean since Jug is away I've got nothing better to do. As I take my seat at the desk next to Betty and Kevin the group starts.

"For our first session, I thought we'd start right in the deep end of the swimming pool," Charles says to the class, "With serial killers."

"Your half-brother is so hot," Kevin whispers. I chuckle at his comment.

"Now, I've put together a little exercise to kick us off," Charles starts, "This is a crime scene where six victims were found buried along a riverbank in the Pacific Northwest. Now, before I start filling in all the details, any guesses on which one of these men is the murderer?" The slid showing the men flips on. I look over them. How am I supposed to tell with no context? Why are we playing serial killer bingo anyways?

"It's the third man," Betty says. I look over to her with wide eyes.

"That's correct, Betty," Charles says, "How did you know that?"

"I don't know," she says, "Just intuition."

"Okay, then," Charles says, "Let's try another one." Another group fills the screen. "Which one's the serial killer?" I look across them wondering what the hell it could be. I mean jeez all of them look like creepy white men. "The term 'serial killer' is relatively new.
It wasn't until the 1970s that the phrase 'serial murderer' or 'serial homicide'-"

"It's the one in the middle," Betty announces.

"Correct again," Charles says.

"Your intuition is like a sixth sense," Kevin says to her cheerfully.

"Let's go again," Charles says it clicks once again. I look over to Betty waiting for her to call out her answer. "When defining a serial killer, it usually refers to someone who committed three or-"

"None of them did it," Betty calls out.

"Excellent work, Betty," he says to her, "Not many people have that kind of raw instinct."

"You're like Beautiful Mind, but for serial killers," Kevin says.

"Yeah tea," I say looking over to her.

"Now, can any of you guess what the murderers all have in common?" Charles asks us.

"Nothing," Betty says, "Isn't that kind of the point?"

"Actually, they all have one thing in common," Charles says, "A specific set of genes. MAOA - and CDH13 genes. Also known as The serial killer genes."

"That can't be real," I say to them, "you can't genetically be a fucking serial killer."

"Actually these traits are very common in serial killers," Charles says. I roll my eyes.

"Sure okay," I say to him. He moves on. The class ends and we all start at home. Once in the Jones residence I see Jug. I move pulling him into a tight hug. "Juggie!"

"Hey n/n," he says cheerfully. He moves pulling me into a kiss. As we pull apart he smiles cheerfully. "You are not going to imagine what's happening at school."

"Whatever it is you are so excited," I say to him smiling, "it's absolutely adorable."

"You remember those books we used to read as kids the Baxter Brothers?" He asks me.

"Yeah of course," I say to him, "they were great. You were so obsessed with them."

"The guys who wrote them all come from Stonewall," He explains, "their having a gathering for all of the ghost writers and I'm invited."

"Oh that's so cool!" I exclaim.

"I figured I could bring you as my plus one," he says to me. I smile nodding.

"I'd love that," I say to him, "I can't wait to meet all these bastards."

"You'll hate them," he says chuckling lightly, "can you help me find my books?"

"Sure," I say to him. With that our quest starts. It seems impossible like the books just disappeared.

"Hey, Dad," Jug says stopping the search to question FP, "Have you seen my Baxter Brothers books? I swear I took them out of the trailer before it burned."

"I don't know," FP says clearly not really wanting to partake in this conversation, "I might've have thrown them away."

"You threw away my books?" Jug asks harshly.

"All right, calm down, boy," FP says, "Before you accuse me of book burning, why don't you check the storage room in the basement?"

"Fine," Jug says. He moves leading us downstairs to the storage room. As we look around I notice a lack of the books.

"What does you dad have against these books?" I ask as I shuffle through the boxes.

"No clue," Jug says, "he never used to be so against them in the past. I think it's just a mood he's in today."

"Right," I say to him as I pull another box down, "oh got them!" He turns to see the large stack and smirks cheerfully.

"Sweet," He says, "here I've got them. Let's get them upstairs."

As we return upstairs Betty now is at the table working boredly on some assignment. We move beside her and he sits down the large box of books.

"Wow what's that?" Betty asks us, "wedding dress?"

"We aren't getting married," I say to her tensely, "it's the Baxter Brothers books."

"I used to worship these guys," Jug says, "When all the kids wanted to be superheroes, I wanted to be a Baxter brother." As we dig through the book she smiles brightly. She reaches into the box cheerfully.

"Oh, my God!" She says excitedly, "They used to do, uh, crossovers with Tracy True. Those were my favorites, remember?"

"Yeah," Jug says, "My Dad used to get me one of these each year for my birthday. Hey Dad, why'd you stop?"

"You outgrew 'em, boy," FP says tensely, "I gotta run." Jug looks to me with the biggest and most childish grin.

"I'm never gonna outgrow these books," he says to me, "when we have kids can we read them these books?"

"You are jumping ahead," I say to him, "but sure." He smiles and pulls one of the books out. "Oh This was my favorite!" I look over his shoulder as he explains the story. We read together a few of them before he realises his curfew is ticking down.

"Do you have to leave?" I ask him.

"I'm sorry," he says softly. I groan.

"Fine," I say to him, "but when I see you at that party Im going to have words with them about the early curfew." He chuckles.

"Yeah good luck with that," he says to me. He moves pulling me into a tight hug. As we exchange our goodbyes a soft regret fills me. I want nothing more then to convince him to stay. Find a way to get him to not go back to that hell hole. But I know it's where he wants to be. That place is good for him. I smile waving to him as he climbs on his bike to drive off leaving me alone on the steps to his house. Somehow it gets harder every time. I sigh then return to my own home. Lily sits at the table watching me carefully.

"What?" I ask her.

"You have visitors," she tells me. Her eyes move over to the dinning room table. I see two men sitting their with briefcases in front of them. I move tensely towards them.

"Can I help you two?" I ask them.

"Miss L/n?" They ask me, "hello I'm Mr. Hawkin and this is my colleague Mr. Melbourne. We are here to discuss some family matters with you."

"Fine," I say to him, "what?"

"Your parents will was set up for the oldest child to get all of the savings after you turn 18," Hawkin explains, "this however would also have the conditions that you have custody of your younger siblings."

"What? Wait there were savings in the first place?" I ask him, "since when?"

"Since always," he says seeming confused, "you didn't know?"

"I wasn't the oldest I guess maybe I didn't listen," I tell him, "so I have to get custody of my siblings? I'm still in school how is that fair? Besides they are in Chicago with my grandparents-"

"Actually they are in foster care," He says, "your grandparents passed away in April."

"What?" Lily and I both ask. We exchange a look then go to him. "Why weren't we told?"

"You were called," The man says, "and we sent letters."

"Okay fine sure," Lily says, "so they've been there for months. Can we get them?"

"That's what we are here to discuss," He says, "well one of the things. As their half sister you do have sibling rights-"

"Wow wow half?" I ask them, "that can't be true I'm their full sibling."

"No you aren't," He says shoving paper work forwards, "Adam and Delilah were their full siblings you are their half sibling." I can feel my head spinning. This is some fucking bullshit. It has to be.

"Yeah no my sister only was with her husband there isnt a chance she's anybody's but David's," Lily says, "good try though."

"Here," He says handing me a paper. I look through it to see that while the others had David and Naomi listed as their parents mine simply had my mothers name. "I'm sorry that I had to break the news but you aren't David's daughter. Sure you've been raised his child but biologically speaking you are not his."

"Then who is my father?" I ask them.

"It's not on record," They say exchanging a look, "I'm sorry."

"She's in highschool she isn't taking the kids," Lily says, "I can." They look to me.

"Yeah I second that," I tell them, "when she gets into the new house next week she'll have the space can- can I have a second? This is more concerning her than me anyways." They nod excusing me. As I get to my room I flop down on my bed. What the fuck?

~~~~~

"One thing we see in a lot of serial killers are instances of animal cruelty in their youth.
Jeffrey Dahmer, the cannibal of Milwaukee, started killing dogs when he was in grade school," Charles explains as I half listen in the lesson. My head is way to full to handle the serial killer info, "Ian Brady, the infamous Moors murderer, killed his first cat when he was ten. Robert Thompson used to tie rabbits to railway tracks."

Betty gasps loudly calling all eyes to her.

"Betty? Are you okay?" Charles asks.

"I need a I need some air," She says standing, "Sorry."

"Okay," he lets her slide off. I look to Kevin.

"Could you take her home?" I ask him, "I have to get out of here."

"Yeah why?" He asks me.

"I need to," I tell him, "I'll be fine my heads just spinning." He nods and I stand marching from the room. As I get to my car I sink into the seat tensely. "Why can't anything ever seem to go right?"

~~~~

It takes forever for me to get ready. To feel ready to deal with the snobs of stonewall. By the time I get there I see Jug waiting outside with a big smile on his face.

"Well if it isn't the prettiest girl in the world," Jug says looking at me. I look around.

"Emma Watson isn't here," I say to him. He rolls his eyes harshly at the comment.

"You are only a little funny," he tells me, "seriously you look great." I smile as I move into his arms.

"Thanks," I say to him, "that uniform looks kinda hot on you."

"Well maybe you can get it off me later," he says I chuckle sliding my hand into his. He leads me inside to the party. Immediately I feel out of place among the crowd. All of the students are in uniforms and the adults have clothes nicer than mine. I don't belong in this crowd. Jug fits in so nicely. Like secretly he belonged here.

"This is Mr. Chipping," Jug says as we stop in front of a teacher, "Mr. Chipping this is my girlfriend Y/n." I offer my hand.

"Nice to meet you again sir," I say respectfully.

"It's one again nice to see Jughead's muse," Chippings says, "I'm glad to see he invited you. Have you ever thought to apply to the school?"

"Me? No I don't like boarding schools," I tell him, "I went to one in New York a few years back and I wasn't a fan."

"That's a shame," he says to me, "well I won't keep you." He moves and Jughead pulls me towards a girl. She's cute brown hair soft eyes.

"Oh who's this Jughead?" The girl asks. I don't like how she looks over me.

"Donna this is Y/n my girlfriend," Jug says, N/n this is Donna she's in the Literary Society with me."

"She's the one you wrote the story about," Donna says, "what a tragic little tale you have. In mean the whole daddy was a murderer thing. It's crazy."

"Yeah crazy," I say staring at her waiting for her to say something. "What's in this story you wrote Jug?"

"Just bits a pieces," he assures me.

"Like the big bad Nick?" She offers up.

"Excuse me?" I ask harshly, "Nick was terrible someone who deserved everything he-"

"Wow babe relax," He says placing a hand on my shoulder, "no one is doubting that she's just referencing the story. He's compared to the big bad wolf." I sigh.

"Right," I say tensely.

"May I have your attention?" The man says, "In literary society tradition, it wouldn't be a proper reunion without a little game of Murder."

"For neophytes, the rules are as follows," Chipping starts, "Everyone draws a card.Whoever picks 'Murderer' must walk amongst us, winking at their prey.
If you are winked at, you die five seconds later."

"The object of the game, of course, is to identify the murderer before being killer," The other man explains, "Happy hunting, everybody." The papers get to us.

"Oh no thanks," I tell them, "I actually don't want to play."

"She has to as a guest," Bret says almost mocking me.

"Sorry I don't want to," I say to them, "I'm not going to play murder. Call it the trauma or call it the fact that I'm lame. Whatever works for you." Bret scoffs then moves off. I move clutching Jug's hand tightly. He gives me a deep peck assuring me that it'll be fine. As we move to the punch bowl Donna makes her way towards us.

"Enjoying yourself, Jones?" She asks him. Almost ignoring me. I scoff harshly.

"So this is what one-percenters do for fun," He says to them, "They play murder, huh?" She nods he chuckles then taps her arm. "Oh, by the way-" He winks at her smirking lightly.

"Wicked, Jones," She says, "Yeah, go on then. Yeah, let me die in peace." As we walk off she dramatically falls to the ground. Making a point to draw attention to her. The group claps. The process repeats as many of the others fall. I boredly look through my phone as Jughead kills off the rest of them in the game. It's boring it's pointless. All of these trust fund brats.

"Down to the wire, boys," Chippings says. Jug looks to Bret winking but the boy yells.

"It's Jughead! He's the murderer!" Bret exclaims.

"Yeah," Jug says, "Because I just killed you."

"No, I knew it was him beforehand," Bret says, "I win."

"I'm sorry, Bret, I can't hear you," Jug says mocking him lightly, "Because you're dead."

"No, I'm not," Bret says, "I saw-"

"Boy, boys. Let's be men about this," Another man says, "It's clear that Jughead Jones won the game fair and square. And what a formidable murderer he was." They all move off and I return to his side. But I'm not the only one. The man who announced him as the winner is also at his side.

"I'm disappointed I didn't get to meet your father," The man says.

"Oh, yeah, he's been busy with work," Jug says.

"Oh, I understand," The man says, "Well, I hope you'll enter the contest to be our new ghostwriter. I mean, the grandson of Forsythe Jones would be a worthy inheritor of the mantle."

"Jug," I say softly. He nods to the man giving a goodbye. He excuses us from the party and leads me off to his room. It's empty none of the other guys in the room are here leaving us alone for the first time in weeks. "You're cute. Now let's make out." He chuckles pulling me into a deep kiss. We move together enjoying the uninterrupted silence.

After our catching up he and I lay together in his small bed. Bodies tangled together as he traces along my arm.

"So my dad might not be my dad," I tell him, "apparently I'm the only one."

"Oh shit," Jug says, "that's not good."

"I swear if I'm related to someone else in this fucking down I'll kill myself," I say to him, "seriously I'm not telling my grandchildren that I accidentally had an incest relationship because my mom lied to me."

"Yeah you might want to get that blood tested," he says to me.

"Yeah I should," I say as my eyes remain on the pictures of us he's taped to the ceiling. "But I guess this means the twins are coming back."

"Is that a good or a bad thing?" He asks.

"I don't know," I say to him, "but let me tell you that the last time they saw me was in a court room before I got taken away from them."

"I'm sure it'll all work out," he tells me. I sigh nodding.

~~~~

The next morning I slip out of the school quietly going to my own and finishing the lessons. At the end of that Betty once again drags me to FBI junior shit.

"Serial killers are compulsive," Charles explains, "They leave clues, take trophies, keep records. Journals, diaries, letters. They see themselves as the hero in their own stories.
Sometimes, it's difficult for them to distinguish between reality and fantasy, fact and fabrication. By studying childhood diaries of serial killers, we can gain invaluable insight into how their minds work."

As she leaves with Kevin I return home. Working on the stacks of homework I have. It's all boring lame shit lots of normal assignments. It's an hour into working when the door opens.

"Welcome home kids," Lily says. At her sides the two kids stand. They share a look. I move towards them looking over them both.

"Caleb. Oliva," I say softly, "hey how's it going."

"Better," Oliva says, "a lot better now." I smirk covers their faces. Oh this can't be good. Anytime anyone from my past comes back my entire life goes to shit. I mean what now?