The day after he found out the truth about Joaquin, Kevin got rid of everything Joaquin had ever given to him. None of it was particularly substantial, just a shirt he'd borrowed from him but hadn't returned in time, a stuffed animal Joaquin had won for him at the county fair, and a few little keepsakes Joaquin had given to him here and there. One was a Green Arrow figurine after Kevin told him of his love for archery; another was a set of luggage tags after Kevin confessed to him how much he wanted to travel. After gathering those items and the clothes he'd outgrown and should have gotten rid of some time ago, he collected it all and donated it to the nearest secondhand store, unable to handle seeing the reminders everyday.
He didn't want to cut all ties to Joaquin, but that was why he knew he had to. Joaquin's time in his life was over, and Kevin was going to wash away every possible trace of him.
With little ceremony, he located all the drawings and brief love notes Joaquin had made for him, dumped them into the fire pit in his backyard, and then struck a match, dropping it onto the pile.
The edges of the papers curled and blackened before crumbling as they turned to ash, and as Kevin watched, he desperately wished his remaining feelings for Joaquin could be destroyed just as easily.
After Joaquin left, Kevin tried to reconnect with Betty. He really, really tried. Admittedly, his motives weren't unselfish—Joaquin haunted his every thought, and any time a memory of him drifted into Kevin's mind, he found himself surrounded by a haze of hurt and anger. Rebuilding his friendship with Betty could provide a distraction, could be the one positive outcome of all the pain Joaquin had left him with, as well as, to Kevin's frustration, his own remaining affections.
But his texts to Betty went unanswered for days at a time, or he never received a response at all. Her number previously battled with Joaquin's for the top spot on his messages list, but now Joaquin's number was blocked and hers had slipped beneath his other friends from various clubs and sports at school.
And despite Kevin's various attempts to reignite their friendship, his efforts alone couldn't maintain a camaraderie, not when Betty herself was utterly disinterested.
As November rolled around, Kevin approached Betty in the school library one day.
"Hey," he said conversationally as she stood by the shelf, engrossed in a Cassandra Clare novel. "So, are you planning on going out for swim team this year? Continuing our dynamic duo from last season?"
He didn't expect her to affirm, not when she had swapped out cross country, which they'd been running together since middle school, in favor of joining the cheerleading team with Veronica, which then proved to dominate most of her time.
His suspicions were correct.
"I don't think so," Betty said with a shrug. "I'm already on the River Vixens, and I'd like to have some freedom to actually hang out with my friends, you know?"
Ouch. Kevin bit back a sharp retort. I'm your friend, he wanted to say. Or at least, I used to be.
A familiar spike of anger surged through him as he again remembered how much his life had changed in the past few weeks. He'd gone from having his first boyfriend to discovering he was just being used, and in spite of that, he still held lingering feelings for Joaquin. It was more than idiotic—it was outright masochistic. To top that off, his former best friend now treated him like an also-ran now that she'd found a better crowd.
He wished he could be less bitter. He wished he had it in him to forgive Joaquin and Betty, to feel less broken about everything. But he as much as he wanted to ignore the rising hurt within himself, he knew he wouldn't be able to suppress it.
Still, Kevin could try to mend some fences. Giving an effort never hurt, right?
"You know, we haven't spent any time together lately," he told her. "Why don't we go to the movies on Friday night? I have my truck, so I can drive."
A movie would help him keep his mind off Joaquin, Kevin reasoned. He couldn't believe he still wasn't over him yet. Really, what was wrong with him?
He didn't honestly expect her to accept, so it was a shock but also a relief when she agreed.
"Okay," Betty said amiably. "Why don't you pick me up at my house at seven?"
"Sounds great," Kevin replied with a grin, and he suddenly felt happier than he had in weeks.
Stirring his cup of coffee, Kevin smiled politely at Mrs. Cooper, who sat at the table across from him. The sound of his spoon clinking against the china was the only sound to break the quiet of the Cooper kitchen.
"Thank you for the coffee," he said. He didn't want to seem ungrateful, nor did he want the silence to continue.
"Oh, it's no trouble," Mrs. Cooper assured him. Her tone and expression were cheery, but years of enduring her disapproval told Kevin they were both patently false. "Would you like some cream or sugar?"
"No, thank you," Kevin replied, not moving to take a single sip of the warm drink.
Neither of them picked up the conversation again, and the silence resumed.
Kevin couldn't recall the last occasion he had sat still for such a long portion of time outside of school. Usually, he was constantly in motion—if he wasn't at sports practice, he was doing some task for one of his student clubs or civic committees, or at the very least, completing some household chore. His father's job demanded long hours, so the majority of the housework fell onto Kevin's shoulders, but he never minded.
Mrs. Cooper made a big show of looking at her watch. "Well, I don't know where Betty could possibly be. Have you tried her phone?"
"Twice already," Kevin said. Two texts: one when he first arrived, and the other fifteen minutes later, which was now ten minutes ago. There hadn't been any kind of response either time. "But I don't want to freak out on her, or freak her out. If there's no sign of her in the next few minutes, I'll think I'll just go on home."
He and Betty had made plans to go to the movies that night. It would be their first chance to really hang out together since the school year began. Or would have been, had Betty bothered to show up.
"Oh, no, don't do that!" Mrs. Cooper exclaimed, her voice oozing artificial concern. "I think you should be right here when Betty walks in the door."
Nodding, Kevin sipped his tea to cover the scowl on his face. He wasn't sure if Mrs. Cooper was angling to hurt him or Betty, but knowing her, it was probably the both of them. No way in hell would she ever gave up a chance to manipulate Betty, and she had never liked Kevin. From the moment she met him she had despised him for encouraging Betty to be independent, for breaking the hold Mrs. Cooper held over her daughter.
Kevin raised his head as the front door swung open, Betty and Jughead dashed inside, laughing together.
"Mom, Jughead's invited me to ride out to Greendale with him!" Betty burst out. "Please, Mom, can I go?"
"Well, let me see." Indecision was clear on Mrs. Cooper's face, and Kevin knew her dilemma in an instant. Should she guilt-trip Betty about standing Kevin up now and prevent Betty from hanging out with Jughead, or should she save it for a time when Betty was standing up to her, and use it as a knife to the jugular of Betty's confidence? Clearly, it was a difficult decision for her to make.
However, Kevin refused to involve himself any longer. He didn't see a point anymore, not when Betty didn't seem to remember their plans. He didn't want to embarrass either himself or Betty by bringing attention to her flightiness in front of Mrs. Cooper and Jughead.
He stood. "If you'll excuse me. I need to be getting home." It was just as well that Betty was flaking out on him. He had a food drive to organize for student government, posters to make for community service club, and T-shirts to design for Junior Engineering League.
"Oh, that's right!" Mrs. Cooper exclaimed. "Sweetheart, didn't you have plans with Kevin tonight?"
Well, if Mrs. Cooper could be relied on for one thing, it was to rub salt in the wounds of as many people as possible.
"I know." Betty shrugged, tossing Kevin a look that wasn't quite apologetic. "But I really want to hang out with Jughead tonight."
"Which is fine," Kevin cut in. Betty's total lack of remorse sent his blood boiling, but he had made a resolution long ago never to lose control in front of other people. "I'm heading out for the night. Later, everybody."
He strode to the door, passing by Jughead on the way. As he walked past, Jughead folded his arms over his chest and offered him an odd smirk that was at once snide and condescending. Kevin had no doubt he was inwardly laughing at him.
Once outside and safely away from all of them, Kevin gave the tire of his old Ford Bronco XLT a swift kick, and then another, and another, until his foot smarted too sharply to continue. Cursing inwardly, he climbed slowly into the driver's seat and started the engine, hating himself even as his heart began racing at the familiar roar of a motorcycle zipping by.
The incident wasn't the last time Betty ditched him in favor of going out with Jughead or double dating with Archie and Veronica. From then on, whenever he tried to make plans with Betty or any other member of their group, he only got brush-offs.
"Want to go out for a burger tonight at Pop's?" he asked the group during one of the rare lunches for which he joined them. Usually he was doing work for one of his clubs or committees and didn't have the time to hang out. "I'm free after swim team practice."
The four of them exchanged various glances of amusement to disbelief, and Kevin couldn't help but feel there was some sort of inside joke which he wasn't a part of and that they were all having a laugh at his expense.
Jughead deigned to respond after a solid twenty seconds of raised eyebrows and not-so-covert smirks. "I don't think we'll be up for it," he said patronizingly. "It's been a long week, and we're all tired."
"That's fine," Kevin responded with a partial shrug. He was always pretty drained after swim team practice anyway.
But when he drove past Pop's that night on his way home after practice and stopped at the red light, he just so happened to glance at the brightly lit windows of the diner. Shock flowed through him as he saw Betty and Jughead, along with Veronica and Archie, sitting in one of the window booths, laughing and chatting.
They'd told him they weren't interested in going out that night. And then they'd gone out without him.
As hurt and anger flooded through Kevin, he tried to tear his gaze away, only to catch sight of the couple in the next booth over: Moose and Midge, gazing at each other, obviously enamored. They didn't look like they'd ever given a thought in the world to anyone else but each other.
Kevin's heart ached with guilt and pain as he looked back and forth at the two tables. He wanted the friendship between Archie, Betty, Jughead, and Veronica, the friendship that used to include him. He wanted the love that Moose and Midge had. And yet, neither were attainable to him. He and Moose were still steadily avoiding one another, and every attempt to reach out to Betty had been rejected.
It was the natural way of things, Kevin reminded himself as the light changed and he mashed the gas pedal with his foot. People changed. People moved on. Nothing lasted forever, particularly not relationships, be them either friendship or romance.
But why the hell did people always move on from him in particular? Joaquin had said he loved him, but that hadn't stopped him from using him. Kevin had vowed to always be Betty's friend, but now she no longer wanted to be his friend.
What was wrong with him? How did he kept screwing this up? Why couldn't anything between himself and another person, be it either friendship or romance, go right for a change?
Pulling into his driveway, Kevin turned off the car and scrubbed at his face with his hands. Goddamn, did he feel tired. And thoroughly, thoroughly beaten. When was his life going to get any better?
Wearily grabbing his bag from the passenger seat of his truck, he trudged to the house, not bothering to hurry despite the chilly late autumn wind. Even the welcome sight of the warm yellow light spilling out from the large stone farmhouse, illuminating the cheerful red trim on the windows, couldn't get Kevin to smile.
Upon entering the house, he shucked off his coat and hung it inside the front closet, his shoulders twinging with soreness as he did. Then, trying to put aside his doom and gloom, he walked into the kitchen, following the delicious aroma of baking bread that was wafting through the air.
His father, Sheriff Tom Keller, stood at the stove, stirring a large pot. He looked up with a smile as Kevin entered the room.
"Hey, Kev," he said, walking over to give Kevin a hug.
Kevin returned it gratefully. With Betty no longer being his friend and Joaquin no longer his boyfriend, no one really touched him anymore outside of his family. He missed the contact, the casual camaraderie of it.
Some part of his loneliness must have shown on his face, because when Tom pulled back and looked at him, he frowned. "You all right, kiddo?"
"Just tired," Kevin replied. It wasn't a lie; he was exhausted. But from his father's expression, he had a distinct notion that his father didn't buy the excuse.
Tom gently brushed his hair back from his forehead. "Well, you can take a rest now. Sit down and have some dinner. You look dead on your feet."
Kevin obediently sat down and his father brought their dinner to the table: a pot of hearty chicken stew, a plate of freshly baked rolls, and a leafy garden salad.
Though he didn't have much of an appetite, Kevin was relieved he was still able to eat. He didn't want to raise his father's suspicions any further, but he also didn't want to discuss what was bothering him. The wounds were too recent, too raw for him to be comfortable with bringing them out into the open.
Even so, his father seemed concerned for him.
"Is everything okay at school?" Tom asked gently.
"Busy," Kevin said automatically, not wanting to give any indication of what was actually wrong. My boyfriend was lying to me, and my best friend wants nothing to do with me. It all sound so pathetic. "Between sports and clubs, I'm always on the move."
"I've thought for the past couple of weeks that you've been getting worn out," Tom told him. "How about we go on a mini-vacation up to the hunting cabin next weekend, huh? Bow hunting season has just begun, and we'd have the chance to enjoy the last part of fall before it's officially winter."
Despite feeling down as he did, Kevin couldn't help but smile at his father's obvious efforts to cheer him up. "Thanks, Dad. I'd really like that."
While he hadn't anticipated the hunting trip, Kevin found himself looking forward to it more and more as the week went on. He just wanted to escape from Riverdale for a little while. It seemed like everywhere he turned, he saw a happy couple together or a group of friends laughing and joking together, and every time he was reminded of what he had lost. Getting away, even just for a few days, would be a welcome change.
They departed from Riverdale directly after Kevin finished school on Friday. He skipped swim team practice that day, instead coming home, quickly dropping off the schoolwork he couldn't take with him on the trip, and then climbing into his father's Silverado. The two of them had packed up the truck the night before so they could leave on their trip right away.
"Lot of homework this weekend?" Tom asked as they left Riverdale behind for the forests and open country.
"Just assigned reading," Kevin said. "I think I can get most of it done on the drive."
That was his intention, at any rate. But his head had been throbbing all day, and every inch of his body ached with weariness. As he settled back against the passenger seat, he was overcome with fatigue.
He would close eyes just to rest them for a few minutes. After all, the trip to the cabin was nearly three hours long.
Some time later, he was abruptly thrown out of sleep when the entire truck jolted sharply. His eyes flew open, and he instantly sat up and looked around. Night had fallen, and the truck was currently driving through the inky blackness of the forest, the only source of light the beam of the headlights.
"Sorry about that," Tom told him sheepishly. "Didn't mean to wake you up, but these backwoods roads have all sorts of potholes."
"It's fine," Kevin said, his voice scraping out of his throat. Though he tried to reorient himself, his head was spinning, and his thoughts seemed only half-focused. "Are we almost there?"
"Just coming up on the road now," Tom said as he made the turn. "When we get there, hang on just a moment before you get out, all right?"
"Sure," Kevin agreed, sinking back into the seat. He didn't think he'd be able to immediately hop out of the truck as he usually did, anyway.
They drove down the road for a short while before Tom pulled the truck into driveway of their lakehouse-style cabin and parked there. The moment he turned off the engine, he reached across to briefly rest his hand on Kevin's forehead before pulling away.
"You've got a fever," he observed, worry in his voice. "Sit tight while I come around to the other side to help you."
"Dad, I can manage," Kevin protested weakly.
"Hush up and hold on for a minute," Tom said, unbuckling his seatbelt and getting out of the truck before reopening the door on Kevin's side and helping him climb down.
Though there wasn't an especially big impact when his feet touched down to the dirt, Kevin still found himself swaying when he hit solid ground. Tom quickly wrapped a strong arm around his shoulders to support him and guided him toward the house. Quickly unlocked the front door, he walked with Kevin down the hall into the living room, where he settled him on couch and covered him with a blanket.
"Stay here," Tom instructed him gently. "I'm going to get you a glass of water."
"We still have to unpack the car—" Kevin began, but Tom cut him off.
"I'll get our luggage in a few minutes. Our hunting gear can wait." He gave Kevin a squeeze on the shoulder. "You just relax, okay?"
"Okay," Kevin agreed reluctantly, though his eyelids were growing heavy again, and he just wanted to curl up and go back to sleep. He barely remained awake long enough to drink the water his dad brought to him, and then he dropped off again not long after.
Throughout the next day, Kevin remained on the couch, too sick to consider expending the energy of walking upstairs to his usual bedroom. Mostly he slept, too tired and dizzy to want to do much else. His father made sure he was staying nourished and hydrated, bringing him food and drink whenever he was awake, ensuring that he wanted for nothing.
"Sorry about this," Kevin rasped around dinnertime on Saturday evening. He was sipping from a bowl of broth Tom had prepared for him. Wrapped in a blanket with the fire burning brightly in the fireplace, he felt warm and cozy in spite of his illness. "I didn't mean ruin our trip."
"I know you didn't," Tom said comfortingly, wrapping an arm around Kevin's shoulders. "And it's fine that we didn't get to go hunting. I just thought you could use a break. You've seemed so down lately." He gave Kevin a searching look. "I don't mean to pressure you when you're sick, but is there anything you'd like to tell me?"
Kevin hesitated. While he was tired of dealing with his problems on his own, he didn't even know where to begin what had went on with Joaquin, and he himself was at a loss to explain why Betty no longer wanted to be friends.
Finally, he decided to go with a simplified version of the fiasco with Joaquin.
"I was . . . seeing someone for a while," he said haltingly. "Dating someone, I mean. And then . . . he hurt me, I guess you could say, and now we're no longer together."
" 'Hurt you'?" Tom's face clouded and anger entered his voice. "What do you mean?"
Kevin rushed to reassure his father. "Nothing like that, Dad. He just didn't turn out to be the person I thought he was, that's all." It was a technical truth, even if he was omitting some essential parts.
Tom softened. "I'm sorry, Kev. I didn't know you went through that."
Though he opened his mouth to tell his father that everything was okay, that their breakup was no big deal, Kevin was surprised to find a lump swelling in his throat, and he needed to swallow several times before he could speak.
"Thanks," he said roughly. "It's just . . . it's hard, you know?" Tears pricked at his eyelids, but he clenched his jaw, refusing to let them fall. "I finally met someone who I thought wanted to be with me. And then it turns out he didn't want that at all. It just plains sucks ."
"It does," Tom agreed sympathetically.
Kevin was struck with guilt as he remembered that he himself was the cause for the destruction of his parents' marriage. His father didn't need any lectures about the pain that accompanied a failed romance; it was an all too familiar topic to him.
"You know, it's only natural that people feel upset when a relationship ends," Tom continued. "Even if the people involved part on good terms, it can be very painful. But even though I wish you would have talked to me about this before, I have a lot of respect that you went on as always. You didn't wallow. You didn't sit around feeling sorry for yourself. You continued moving forward, and I speak from experience when I say that after something along these lines happens, moving on is the best thing you can do. But," he sent Kevin a pointed look, "don't be afraid to turn to other people for help during those times if you need it."
"I don't want to bother you with this stuff," Kevin admitted. "It's all petty high school BS. I'd feel stupid laying it at your feet."
"Doesn't matter. I'm here for you, kiddo," Tom said firmly. "Just keep me in the loop next time, okay?"
"Okay," Kevin agreed, curling up close to his father. "Thanks, Dad."
"No problem," Tom told him warmly, ruffling his hair affectionately.
On Sunday they returned to Riverdale, and Kevin was amazed at how much better he felt, not just physically, but mentally. Now that he had finally opened up to someone about Joaquin, even if not all the way and not entirely truthfully, it was as though an enormous burden had been lifted off of his shoulders.
When he returned to school on Monday, he felt reinvigorated, ready to take on new challenges, something he hadn't thought himself capable of in the past few weeks. Which was why when Ginger Lopez approached him with a problem, he was more than willing to listen to listen to her.
"My sisters have started their science fair projects for middle school," she informed him with a grimace. "If I don't stay out of the house for the next month, I'm either going to be roped into helping make a potato battery or a paper-mache volcano. And I'd never thought I'd say this, but Cheryl and the River Vixens aren't taking enough of my time. Got any extended jobs you need done for any of your clubs or committees? I'll take anything. I'm that desperate."
Kevin smiled at her. He and Ginger were old friends; her mother, Theresa Lopez, was his father's Chief Deputy.
"I don't have anything right now," he admitted. But then, struck by impulse, he made her an offer. "But remember when we did that archery unit in gym last year, and we joked about starting a club?"
Ginger leaned forward. "You want to go through with it?"
Kevin shrugged. "It would take up a lot of your spare time, so you wouldn't have to worry about slaving away for your younger sisters."
Ginger looked thoughtful. "You know, I think I even know a few other people who would be interested in joining. Want to meet at Pop's after school to talk about it?"
At first Kevin hesitated, knowing that Pop's was the main hangout of Archie, Betty, Jughead, and Veronica. But then he pushed his doubt aside; he couldn't avoid all of them forever, and he might as well just deal with the issue now.
"Sounds good," he told Ginger. "Should we meet there at three-thirty?"
"It's a date," Ginger said with a grin, jokingly blowing him a kiss.
They exchanged goodbyes and she left for her homeroom. Almost instantly, Reggie Mantle popped up to take her place.
"New club?" he asked without preamble.
"Hopefully," Kevin said. "If we can get it started."
"I'll help you," Reggie offered. "My parents have been on my case lately about doing some stuff other than sports. They're already considering what I need to be putting on college applications." He rolled his eyes. "Maybe doing something like this will get them off my back."
"Want to come to our meeting?" Kevin invited him as the warning bell rang.
"I'll be there," Reggie promised, slamming his locker shut. "Anything to get the 'rents off my back."
That afternoon, Kevin met with Reggie, Ginger, and a friend Ginger had brought along. The girl was tall, lean, and strikingly pretty, with hot pink hair and sparkling dark eyes.
"Toni Topaz," she introduced herself, offering a confident smile as she did. "New transfer from Southside."
Though Kevin initially eyed her Southside Serpents jacket warily, he quickly put aside his caution. Toni was witty and bright with a great sense of humor. She reminded him of a tougher and more self-assured version of Betty. As engaging as Toni was, he couldn't help but be taken in by her charisma and charm.
The four of them were eagerly discussing plans for the club when the bell above the diner door jingled, and Betty walked in, followed by the rest of her posse. Try as he might, Kevin couldn't hold back the stab of resentment that pierced through him at the sight of her. Even so, as angry as he still was with Betty, he was also angry at himself. How long was he going to dwell on these incidents? Would he ever get past his bitterness toward Betty and—
And Joaquin, he had been about to think, but that wasn't accurate. He hadn't dwelled on him at all. It was then that Kevin realized he hadn't thought of Joaquin at any point throughout the entire time day. He was too preoccupied with planning for the archery club.
A small, faint but genuine, tugged at his lips as he relaxed in the booth with his friends. Maybe he could get past his heartbreak, after all.