When my father got arrested, it was the worst thing ever. All these... trolls started writing horrible things about us. We'd get letters and e-mails saying that my dad was a thief, my mom was a clueless socialite, and I was the spoiled rich-bitch ice princess. And what hurt the most about it was... the things the trolls were writing... were true. I was like Cheryl. I was worse than Cheryl. So, when my mom said we were moving to Riverdale, I made a pact with myself to use this as an opportunity to become maybe, hopefully, a better version of myself.
– What the hell is a "sticky maple"?
– It's kind of what it sounds like. It's a Riverdale thing.
– No, Kevin, it's a slut-shaming thing. And I'm neither a slut, nor am I going to be shamed by someone named, excuse me, Chuck Clayton. Does he really think he can get away with this? Does he not know who I am? I will cut the brakes on his souped-up phallic symbol.
– Or we can go to Principal Weatherbee.
– About the coach's son? Who is captain of the football team, and Riverdale High's resident golden boy?
– Or I can expose him in the pages of the "Blue and Gold". Yeah, I can do that!
– No. Spoken like a true good girl who always follows the rules. Well, I don't follow rules! I make them! And when necessary, I break them! You wanna help me get revenge on Chuck, Betty, awesome. But you better be willing to go full dark, no stars. What do you say, in or out?