It doesn't take long for the kingdom Archie had started to build to come crashing down around him. Hiram has the Serpents evicted, Jughead and FP included. With nowhere else to go, they leave town. Where, Archie isn't on good enough terms with Jughead to find out. He argues with Hiram about it, because whatever else he's done to Jughead, this is too far. Hiram decides Archie is a liability, and cuts him loose. Veronica, in an effort to keep Archie from enduring more of her father's wrath, breaks up with him. Hiram and Hermione decide she can't be trusted and send her to boarding school in New York.
Each event is like a wrecking ball to the foundation of his life, and soon he finds himself surrounded by nothing but rubble. But there amongst the ruins, lifting him to his feet, tending to his wounds, despite everything; Betty.
He thinks it's a miracle she still wants to speak to him after everything that happened.
"How can you stand to even look at me, let alone be friends with me, after what I helped do to Jughead?" Archie asks her, walking back from Pop's, a week or so after Veronica has been shipped away against her will.
Betty is silent for a moment. "You probably don't remember, but once I told my mom I'd never stop being friends with you," she says eventually. "I meant that. There is nothing you could do or say that would make me stop being friends with you."
Archie remembers, of course. How could he forget? The words had left him speechless, that she would have that much faith in him, after all his mistakes. He feels that way again now. After everything he's done, every dumb mistake he feels he will never be redeemed for, Betty still stands by him. He'd like to echo the sentiment, or thank her at the very least. But the words stick in his throat. How can he possibly convey how much her belief in him means to him?
Instead he just vows to himself that one day he's going to make it up to her.
Things with Betty start out innocently enough. He's just happy to have his best friend back. With Jughead and Veronica out of the picture, they really only have each other, and they spend basically all their time together.
He's missed her laugh, her friendship, her presence in his life. He finds himself trying to capture every moment with her in his mind. They walk to school together, eat lunch together, and walk home together. If they don't hang out after school or on the weekends, they're constantly messaging each other.
It doesn't take Archie long to forget Veronica ever even existed. And Jughead for that matter. He knows Betty is still in contact with both of them, but with his relationship with Veronica over, and Jughead still not speaking to him, Archie has no reason to think of either of them. As far as he's concerned, there isn't any problem with that. He's got Betty, he doesn't need anyone else.
He's at her place after school one day, studying. Or at least, pretending to study. He's got his books open, and they're sprawled out on her bed, but he's been staring at this one math problem for the last twenty minutes and hasn't even made an attempt to answer it. He glances at Betty beside him. She's got her brow furrowed in concentration, reading something from her open textbook.
Archie smiles to himself. She looks so cute like that, deep in her own thoughts.
"Archie," Betty says, not looking at him. "Do your homework." Perhaps she's not as deep in thought as he'd assumed.
"I can't think anymore," Archie complains. "We've been at this for…" he checks the time on his phone. "Twenty minutes? Really?" he groans. "It feels like it's been hours."
Betty chuckles, finally rolling on her side to face him. "We can take a break if you want," she says. Archie breathes a sigh of relief. Betty gets off the bed and turns her speakers on, scrolling through her phone for a song to play.
"Any requests?" she asks.
"Whatever you want," Archie smiles. Betty ponders for a moment before hitting play. Archie isn't surprised when it's Taylor Swift, and he laughs as Betty dances, lip syncing the words.
"Come on," Betty grins. "You wanted to stop studying, so now you have to dance with me."
Archie groans dramatically, feigning reluctance as Betty grabs him and drags him off the bed. He doesn't really know the words, but Betty sings along loud enough for the both of them.
"This ain't for the best, my reputation's never been worse, so you must like me for me," she sings. Archie feels his heart swell as they dance, carefree and light, like when they were kids. Betty beams at him, and he feels his heart lurch, as if trying to free itself from his body and attach itself to hers. He thinks about what it would be like to kiss her. It's a brief whim, but it makes him stop suddenly, and the smile drops from his face. He's not supposed to think things like that about Betty.
Betty notices the change, and pauses the music. "What's wrong?" she asks him. Archie shakes his head, his mouth dry. He can't tell her.
He swallows. "Nothing," he says, convincing himself as much as he is her, even as his heart lurches again. "We should probably get back to studying."
"Words I never thought I'd hear you say," Betty laughs. But she settles herself back on her bed in front of her books, and Archie does the same, trying to slow his rapid heartbeat.
When he goes to bed that night, she's still on his mind. He convinces himself it doesn't mean anything. He's being stupid. It's not like he hasn't thought about kissing her before, long before Veronica came along. Hell, he's even actually kissed her before.
He closes his eyes, replaying that moment over in his mind, remembering the gentle pressure of her soft lips on his.
It's nothing, he tells himself, even as he falls asleep thinking about her.
By morning Archie knows it isn't nothing. It means something that he wants to kiss her. It means something that he wakes up thinking about her. It means something that his first instinct when he wakes up is to reach for his phone and message her. He lies there staring at the ceiling, trying to come to terms with his realisation. His heart hammers against his ribcage, and he squeezes his eyes shut. He's in love with her.
The thing is, being in love with Betty is not even really a new development. He's loved her his whole life, practically. When he was a kid, he used to dream they'd get married.
But his feelings for Betty have always been like the ocean. Sometimes calm and peaceful, and he can almost forget they exist. Other times they threaten to drown him, pull him under and never let him come up for air. And now, with the fog that was Veronica gone, he can finally see clearly. Whether a gentle tide or a raging sea storm, his feelings for Betty have always been vast, and deep, and terrifying.
Knowing that he's in love with Betty doesn't change much. They still walk to and from school together. It's just that now he can't stop thinking about how close their hands are, how easy it would be to slip his hand into hers. His heart spasms with every accidental brush of skin.
They still hang out at lunch, and after school, and on weekends. It's just that now, his mind constantly conjures up images of him kissing her. He's painfully aware of her presence, of every look that passes between them, of every casual touch. It's a wonderful torture, but it's torture all the same.
He lets himself fantasize sometimes. When he's lying in bed at night he'll close his eyes and dream up scenarios in which he's allowed to want her. Or he'll replay the events of the day in his mind, searching for hints that maybe she wants him too. He imagines himself telling her how he feels, and her telling him she feels the same. He imagines kissing her, caressing her, undressing her. He imagines her moaning his name while he touches himself. He envisions a future where they end up together, happily ever after. He torments himself night after night, knowing he can't have her, and yet desperately wanting her all the same.
He starts writing songs again, because it's the only way he can get his feelings out. He's got no one to turn to. The words come so easily to him, and he churns out song after song, some sweet and romantic, some angsty and heartbreaking. He knows she'll never hear a single one of these songs, but he imagines playing them to her anyway. Imagines she wants to hear them. He knows he's utterly pathetic.
But even when he tries to stop, knowing it's wrong, he can do nothing but think about her, all the time.
Despite his own selfish feelings, and the effort it takes everyday to squash his illicit thoughts about her, he's still perfectly attuned to Betty's emotions, and he notices instantly when she's upset.
She's quiet on their walk to school, subdued, like something's bothering her.
"Betty?" Archie says, dragging her from her thoughts. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing, I—" she shakes her head. "I just miss Jughead."
Archie tries not to feel jealous. Of course she misses her boyfriend. It's been a month since she's seen him, and though she's done her best to keep herself distracted, he knows it must be hard for her.
"Sorry, I know you guys still aren't speaking," she says.
"It's okay," Archie says. "I'm sorry. It must suck to not be able to see him."
"Do you miss Veronica?" Betty asks. "I know you guys broke up, but still…"
Archie shrugs. "Not really." He supposes it's different without her around. He has fond memories of their time together. But he's not sure he misses her. His thoughts are so occupied by Betty, there isn't any room for anyone else.
Betty drops her eyes to her feet again. Archie can't stand to see her so sad.
"Hey," he says. "Why don't we do something fun tonight? Maybe it will help get your mind of it."
"We always do fun things," Betty says.
"Something different," Archie says, though he's yet to figure out what.
"Like what?"
"It's a surprise," he tells her. She grins.
"Alright," she agrees. She looks happier already. "A surprise!" she laughs. "Can't wait to see what you have in store for me."
Archie smiles, his affection for her only growing every time she smiles.
Betty climbs into the passenger seat of Fred's truck, Archie at the wheel. She's dressed in a coat and jeans, her hair in her signature ponytail. Her eyes somehow sparkle in the darkness. She's excited. Archie smiles.
"Ready?" he asks.
"Considering I have no idea where we're going, I'm not sure," Betty says. "But I dressed like you said to and I'm up for anything."
"Don't get too excited," Archie says, starting the truck. "Turns out I'm terrible at coming up with interesting things to do."
"We'll see," Betty says. Archie backs out of the driveway.
The radio is playing ballads from the 80s as Archie drives through town, following Sweetwater River past the town limit. Betty sings along, and he joins in. They sound good together. Archie wonders why they don't sing together more often.
He keeps following the river, the road twisting and turning as the river does. He eventually finds a spot by the river he likes, not too many trees around, and he pulls over, parking the truck in the middle of a large expanse of grass away from the road.
"Did you bring me out here to murder me?" Betty asks. Archie unbuckles his seatbelt, giving her a look. She grins, following his lead and they both get out of the truck.
"Seriously, Archie, why are we here?" Betty asks.
"Just hang on," he says, uncovering the tray of the truck. He's got mountains of pillows and blankets hidden underneath.
"Are we… going to take a nap?" Betty says.
"Do you want to take a nap?"
"I could nap."
"We're not here to nap."
Archie climbs into the tray and helps Betty do the same.
"Okay," he says. "Lie down." Betty settles herself among the pillows, still looking at Archie dubiously. He lies down beside her, close but not touching. "Look up," he whispers. He watches her as she drags her gaze from his to the sky. Her face lights up and Archie smiles to himself. She's so beautiful it makes his chest ache. He tears his eyes away from her to look up the sky.
On this clear night, away from the lights of town, the sky looks like it's been studded with diamonds. Archie still thinks Betty's eyes shine brighter, but the stars are nice too.
"We're stargazing," Betty murmurs, her eyes alight.
"Yeah," Archie laughs, turning to look back at her. Betty keeps her eyes on the sky. Archie takes the opportunity to frame this moment in his mind.
"Archie?" Betty says.
"Mmm?"
"Do you know anything about stars?"
"Uhhh…" he screws up his nose. "No."
Betty laughs, light and tinkling. Archie grins.
"Sorry," he says. "I guess I didn't think this through, huh?" He looks back to the sky.
"It's okay," Betty says. "I'll show you the constellations I know." She sits up and pulls her ponytail out, shaking her hair around her shoulders before lying back down. "It was hurting my head," she explains. She scoots a little closer to him, until she's pressed up against him. Archie feels like he can barely breathe. Their faces are so close, it would take almost no movement at all for him to kiss her. His eyes linger on her lips.
"Okay, do you see where I'm pointing?" she points to the sky. Archie swallows, letting his eyes follow her finger. "Those three stars in a straight line are Orion's belt. And… the rest of him is around there somewhere."
"Betty," Archie says. "You don't know anything about stars either do you?"
"Not really," Betty admits. "We could make up our own constellations."
"Okay," Archie agrees.
They forget about the stars before long, and they find themselves wrapped up in the blankets, face to face, reminiscing about old times. Archie has no idea how long they've been out here. For all he knows, time has stopped entirely. He wouldn't mind. If he got to stay here in this moment with Betty forever, he thinks he'd be happy.
"Thanks for doing this, Arch," Betty whispers.
"You're welcome," Archie smiles.
"I only wish…" Betty sighs. "I wish Jughead were here."
The words feel like a punch in the gut. Jughead, right. Her boyfriend. He'd let himself get caught up in the moment and completely forgotten why they're even out here in the first place. He swallows, turning away. He feels hollow all of a sudden.
"We should probably get back," Archie says, sitting up. He can't look at her. He feels like he wants to cry.
"Yeah, okay," Betty agrees. Archie climbs out of the truck quickly. "Arch?" Betty says. He manages to meet her gaze. "I am really grateful you did this."
Archie nods and looks away again. He believes her. But it still hurts that he's not the one she wants.
He's probably already written fifty songs about her by now, and yet he still has lyrics inside him, wanting to burst out and latch themselves onto a page. He spends most of his free time in the garage playing.
He looks up from his guitar as his dad walks into the garage, knocking gently on the door frame.
"Hey," Fred says. "You ready for dinner?"
Archie nods and gets up, following his dad to the dining room where there's a bowl of spaghetti waiting for him.
"You've been writing a lot lately," Fred notes. He smiles. "Must be in love."
Archie knows his dad means it as a light-hearted joke, but Archie falters, a lump forming in his throat when he tries to laugh. Fred pauses, studying his son, as Archie stares at his spaghetti.
"Sorry," Fred says. "I didn't mean to…" he trails off. "Betty?" he guesses. Archie hates that he guesses right the first time. Is he really that obvious?
"Yeah," Archie admits. Fred doesn't say anything. What is there to say? But Archie can feel his father's pity seeping into his skin, so he gives him a half smile. "What, no fatherly advice for me?" Archie jokes.
Fred hesitates. "If you really love her, let her be happy."
Archie looks down at his plate of food, suddenly not hungry anymore.
There's a part of Archie, the darkest, worst part of himself, that wants Jughead to break Betty's heart. For him to stop picking up the phone when Betty calls. For him to send a text telling her it's over with no explanation. To tell her he's met someone else or that long distance just doesn't work for him. And Archie would be there to pick up the pieces.
He hates himself for even entertaining the thought. He wants Betty to be happy, even if it's not with him.
He knows what he has to do, though it doesn't mean it's easy. He sits on the end of his bed, phone in hand, his thumb hovering over the call button. He closes his eyes and hits the button. The phone rings as he puts it to his ear.
"Archie Andrews," Jughead says when he picks up the phone. "It's been a long time."
"I wasn't even sure if you'd pick up," Archie admits.
"I almost didn't." There's a short silence before Jughead speaks again. "Why are you calling me, Archie?"
Archie licks his lips. "It's about Betty," he says.
"Is she okay?" Jughead asks frantically, already assuming the worst.
"She's fine," Archie assures his friend. "She just… misses you."
"Well I miss her too," Jughead says.
"So come home," Archie tells him.
"I can't, Archie. There's nowhere for me to go."
"Come for a visit at least," Archie says. "You can stay here."
"Is this your apology?" Jughead asks, dubious.
Archie chuckles. "Something like that. Come on. I know Betty would love it if you came to stay for a weekend."
Jughead hesitates. "Alright," he says finally. "I think I can swing that."
"Good," Archie nods. "I'll see you then."
"Okay. Bye, Archie."
"Wait, Jughead," Archie says quickly, before Jughead can hang up. "I really am sorry, for everything that happened. For how I treated you."
"I know, Archie. I'll see you in a week, okay?"
Betty is over at Archie's when Jughead arrives, as planned. The doorbell rings, and Betty doesn't even look up from the video game they're playing. She has no idea who's at the door. Archie pauses the game.
"I have to get the door," he says. "You want to come with?"
Betty gives him a look of confusion. "Why?"
"Just come."
Betty huffs, but she puts down her controller and follows Archie to the front door.
"Open it for me, will you?" Archie asks. Betty side-eyes him.
"What's going on?" she asks, suspicious.
"You'll see."
Betty squints at him, turning the handle. She swings the door open. Her mouth drops open when she sees Jughead standing there.
"Jug?" she says, incredulous. Her stunned expression morphs into one of pure joy. Jughead grins and Betty leaps forward, throwing her arms around him. Archie can't bear to look. And yet he does. He watches as Betty and Jughead hold their embrace for what seems like an eternity. He watches as Betty kisses Jughead's face. He watches as the two of them smile and laugh, overjoyed at seeing each other.
Archie clears his throat and they break apart.
"Let me take your bag, Jug," Archie says. "You two should go back to Betty's and catch up."
Jughead nods, handing Archie his bag. Archie takes the bag, his eyes lingering on their hands, clutching each other tightly. His chest feels tight. He forces a smile. Jughead starts leading Betty away, but she turns back to Archie once more.
"Thanks, Arch," she smiles. Archie nods. He closes the door behind them and carries Jughead's bag upstairs. He throws the bag to the ground, and out of habit looks out his window. He sees Betty drag Jughead into her room, kissing him, laughing. And Jughead's laughing too. Archie wrenches the curtain closed, unable to stomach the sight. He feels like the joke is on him.
Alice won't let Jughead stay over, so he sleeps on the trundle in Archie's room.
"How was your day with Betty?" Archie asks, though he's not really sure he wants to know.
"Perfect," Jughead says. "Thanks for… letting me stay. For calling."
"It's the least I could do," Archie says. "For the record, I want to apologise again for being a total dick. I'm really sorry Jughead."
"I'm sorry too, Archie," Jughead says. "We both said and did things. I mean, it was mostly you, but still."
Archie snorts. "Thanks, Jug. I appreciate the sentiment."
"Archie, can you turn the light on for a sec?" Jughead says. Archie reaches for the lamp, squinting in the sudden brightness. He looks over at Jughead. Jughead looks at him seriously. "We shouldn't let stuff like that come between us again, okay? We should be honest with each other. We should support each other. I'll tell you the truth if you tell me the truth, okay? No more secrets and lies."
Archie swallows. He nods. Guilt pools in his stomach.
"Okay, you can turn the light off now," Jughead says. Archie does as he's bid. He can feel a weight on his chest, threatening to crush him. He licks his lips, thinking about Jughead's words.
"Jughead," he says. He shouldn't say anything. But something about the darkness, about the need to confess, to stop feeling so guilty, compels him.
"Yeah, Archie?"
Archie hesitates. He closes his eyes, bracing himself for Jughead's reaction. "I'm in love with Betty." He swallows. The silence engulfs him. "Jughead?" he prompts, unable to bear it any longer.
"How—" Jughead starts. He stops. "When did you fall in love with her?"
Honesty, Archie reminds himself. "I'm not sure," he admits. "I think—I think maybe I was in love with her this whole time."
"God, Archie," Jughead snorts. He doesn't seem angry. Just as if he finds the whole thing ludicrous. "Fine. When did you figure it out? When did you know?"
Archie hesitates. "Not until it was much too late."
Somewhere in his heart, Jughead finds it in his heart to forgive Archie for falling in love with his girlfriend.
"I know you're not going to do anything about it," Jughead says. "And even if you did, I trust Betty enough to know nothing will ever happen."
He leaves the next day, after a long goodbye with Betty. Jughead gives Archie a hug before he gets on his bus.
"Look after her for me," Jughead says. Archie nods, trying not to feel resentful. "And I give you permission to accompany her to the formal next weekend."
"There's a formal next weekend?" Archie asks. That's news to him.
"She wants to go," Jughead says with a shrug. "Just watch your hands," he laughs. Archie manages a short laugh. Jughead gives Betty another long kiss before boarding.
"You want to go to that dance together next weekend?" Archie asks Betty as they watch the bus pull away.
"Sure," Betty agrees. It shouldn't make his heart twitch, but it does.
When Betty walks out her front door on Saturday evening, Archie feels like he might die. All the air from his lungs leaves him, and he can do nothing but stare.
"Wow," he manages. "You look amazing."
Betty laughs, though Archie can see no humour in the situation. "Thanks," she says. "You look great too."
He stares at her a little longer, drinking her in. Her hair falling around her shoulders in loose waves, the colour of her dress bringing out the green in her eyes, her pink lips, somehow looking even softer than usual.
"Shall we go?" Betty prompts, and Archie starts.
"Yeah," he says quickly. He holds out his arm and she slips her arm through his. He shivers, though it's warm out.
They walk to the dance together, arm in arm. It's being held in the gym at Riverdale High, so it's only a short walk.
It seems strange now to be at a school dance without Veronica or Jughead. He sees all the familiar faces of the people he goes to school with, and yet they all seem like strangers to him now.
Kevin approaches with Moose in tow. "Glad you guys made it," Kevin says. "Betty, do you want to dance?"
"Sure," Betty grins, and Kevin leads Betty onto the dancefloor, leaving Archie with Moose.
"I hate school dances," Moose complains, trying to make small talk.
"You didn't have to come," Archie points out. Moose shrugs.
"Yeah, but Kevin wanted to and… I'm weak when it comes to what Kevin wants," Moose grins. Archie is surprised to hear Moose talking so openly about his relationship with Kevin, given that he'd only come out a few weeks ago. But if Moose's feelings for Kevin are anything like Archie's feelings for Betty, he completely gets it.
"I know what you mean," Archie says, his eyes on Betty and Kevin. He quickly looks back to Moose, only to find Moose studying him curiously. Archie clears his throat. "So, you and Kevin."
"Best thing that ever happened to me," Moose says. "It took a lot for us to get here, but… I feel like it was meant to be, you know?"
"Yeah," Archie says. The song that's playing ends, and Taylor Swift's familiar voice starts playing over the speakers.
This ain't for the best, my reputation's never been worse, so you must like me for me.
Archie locks eyes with Betty, and she grins at him, beckoning him out onto the dancefloor. He's helpless to do anything but follow. He passes Kevin, who's on his way back to Moose.
"Good luck," Kevin whispers as they pass each other.
Archie reaches Betty and she grabs his hands, dancing joyfully. Archie knows he's a terrible dancer, but he joins in anyway. He knows the lyrics by now, and he sings along with her as she twirls under his arm. His chest aches. Being with her like this, knowing she's with someone else, knowing she has no idea how he feels, it's almost unbearable.
"Sometimes I wonder when you sleep are you ever dreaming of me?" the speakers play, Archie and Betty singing along. "Sometimes when I look into your eyes, I pretend you're mine, all the damn time."
He has to tell her how he feels. Even if she doesn't feel the same way. Because what if she does? What if there's some small chance that she still loves him? What if, after all this time, they are really meant to be together?
The song ends, and they stop dancing. Betty smiles at him as the next song starts playing. Something slower. Betty puts her arms around his neck and Archie follows her lead, slipping his arms around her waist. He'll tell her after the dance ends. Right now, he's just going to try and enjoy the bittersweet feeling of being in her arms.
When the dance is over, they walk home together. Betty talks animatedly the whole way home, but Archie is notably silent. His heart beats hard in his chest as he goes over what he's going to say to her.
They reach Betty's front door and Betty turns to him, tilting her head.
"Are you okay?" she asks. "You were pretty quiet on the way home."
Archie almost says yes. But then he shakes his head. "No," he says quietly. "I'm not."
Betty reaches for him. "What is it?" she asks, a comforting hand on his bicep.
"Betty…" he starts. He hesitates. "I'm in love with you." He swallows, watching her for her reaction, his expression pained. Betty drops her hand from his arm. She closes her eyes for a second, not saying anything.
"I've been trying to deny it for months now," Archie continues. "But I can't any longer. I had to tell you. I love you. I love you."
Betty looks at him. Tears glint in the corners of her eyes. "You don't really love me, Archie. You're just lonely."
Archie shakes his head. "No, Betty. This is real," he says. "I think I've been in love with you for years and years."
Betty laughs humourlessly. She still doesn't believe him. Archie groans. He has to make her see.
"Remember… remember what I told you that night, after the dance?" he says. He wonders if he sounds as frantic as he feels. "I told you I wasn't good enough for you, I never said that I don't have feelings for you. And… and remember how we kissed that night, in the car outside Cheryl's? I thought about that kiss everyday since then. You're not the only one who's been in love with your best friend for years, Betty," he says desperately. Betty still doesn't say anything, and she won't look at him.
"Betty—" he says, her name rolling of his tongue like a plea.
"I remember, Archie," she says, finally looking at him. Wet lines stream down her face. "I remember exactly the way your face looked when you told me you didn't want me. I remember how my heart ached constantly, how I went to sleep every night wishing you would love me the way I loved you. I remember how we kissed and you were back with Veronica within a day."
She doesn't sound angry, but the tears flow freely now.
"Betty—" he tries again. "I'm sorry, I—"
"It's okay, Archie," she says softly. "It doesn't hurt anymore. I forgive you for all that. And I love you, of course I do," she says. "I'll always love you. But you're too late. I'm with Jughead now. I love Jughead."
Archie nods. He can't speak. If he tries, he'll cry, and he can't cry. Not in front of her. He doesn't know what he expected. Of course she was always going to reject him. That's always how this was going to end.
"I should go," he manages, trying to keep voice steady, even as it cracks.
"Wait, Archie," Betty says. Archie pauses, the fool in him daring to hope for a moment. But she just steps forward and wraps her arms around him, burying her head in his chest. Archie holds his breath, wrapping his own arms around her tightly in return. He puts his lips to her forehead, breathing her in. He can't stand it. He pulls away.
"Goodnight, Betty."
He turns to go and doesn't look back.
He doesn't cry until he's alone in his dark room. He doesn't want to cry at all. He's never cried over a girl before. But his heart has never been so shattered. He's never wanted somebody so much and known that he'll never get to be with them. It's utterly unbearable.
There's a knock on his door. Archie hurriedly wipes at his eyes, trying to stop his chest from heaving.
"Archie?" his dad calls. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Dad," Archie calls back, but his voice wobbles, and then he's crying again. Fred pushes the door open. He sits on Archie's bed and puts his arms around his son. Archie buries his head into his dad's shoulder.
"You want to talk about it? What happened?" Fred asks.
"Betty—" Archie starts, but that's all he can get out. His dad seems to get it anyway. Fred rubs his back to comfort him. Heavy sobs wrack his body until he can cry no longer.
"You're going to be alright," Fred whispers. "You and Betty will be alright. Get some sleep, okay?"
Archie nods and Fred leaves him. He lies back on his bed feeling hollow until sleep eventually takes over.
In the morning he'll pull it together enough to apologise again. To be her friend, support her, love her, even if it slowly kills him.