Lunch at Riverdale High was always loud, chaotic, and a little too crowded. You walked into the cafeteria with Cheryl at your side—her hand lightly brushing yours, her presence warm, commanding, impossible to ignore.

You grabbed your food, found a spot at your usual table, and sat down. Cheryl slid into the seat beside you, close enough that your shoulders touched.

Everything felt normal… until you noticed Cheryl’s eyes.

Sharp. Focused. Borderline murderous.

At first, you thought she was just in one of those moods. Then you saw where she was looking.

At people. All around the room. Anyone whose eyes lingered on you for more than half a second.

And she was glaring holes into every. single. one.

A girl from the fencing team looked your way? Death stare from Cheryl.

A guy from your Charms class walked past and smiled politely? Cheryl sat up straighter, glared like a lion about to pounce.

Someone from the Vixens waved at you? Cheryl narrowed her eyes so hard it could cut glass.

You blinked. “…Cheryl?”

She didn’t look at you. “Mm?” she hummed, still burning holes into some poor sophomore who just made the mistake of passing by your table.

“Are you… okay?”

“I’m perfectly fine,” she said tightly. Then her eyes flicked to another person glancing your way, and her jaw clenched. “Absolutely. Fine.”