She don't see her perfect, she don't understand she's worth it, or that beauty goes deeper than the surface.

1 » betty cooper

is it really okay to not be okay?

Staring blankly in my vintage vanity mirror, I question myself repetitively as my eyes run out of tears to shed. My reflection seems so despondent and broken, yet I hardly regret any of my actions tonight. The only thing that continues to hurt me is the memory of seeing Jughead's face, full of disgust, clearly not impressed nor appeased by my strip show. Who knew that I, Miss Perfect, could be so disgusting and reckless?

That thought sends another ripple of angry emotions through my body, as if a domino effect ready to consume my entire existence. Perfect—the word itself leads me to think back to the night of the Homecoming dance, in which I went as a date to both Veronica and Archie. And then both my dates when on to make out in a closet as I ran outside Cheryl's house full of tears like a wimp. I wish they both could have spared me the pain that night by just telling me that in the future, they were going to date and to my demise, constantly fuck next door. But later that night, at the comfort of my own doorstep, Archie told me I was too good for him, but somehow I'd rather just not be enough.

Ever since that night, I always wonder what it is that makes me out of Archie's league and deems him undeserving of my love. Has he seen my oh so perfect flaws, like the scars my nails have left on my palms? Or my tendency to threaten people with their own vulnerabilities and weaknesses? No, and even if I would get rid of my "perfect" persona, I hope he never gets to see me. Because even I'm scared of what Dark Betty Cooper can do.

All these thoughts rampage my mind as I reapply makeup on my eyes where my tears have smudged it. Although I plan on going to bed, I don't want to impose any worry on my parents tomorrow morning if they realize I've been crying all night. Truthfully, it'd be a lie, but I don't want to have to deal with the backlash for dating and potentially loving Jug from them. But I'm sure I'm not the only one in this family who has history with a Jones, and while it disturbs me, I choose to believe I'm only imagining it.

After I drop my mascara back onto the surface of my vanity, I suddenly spot a redhead pop into the reflection of my mirror. Stunned, I pretend to continue applying makeup, but I already can tell that he's staring at me. No, watching— Archie is definitely watching me from his own window.

Finally, I decide to get up, even with my heart racing quickly. Over my shoulder, my blonde hair falls in a ponytail. I gaze at him, admiring his charming brown eyes for a moment before stepping away.

I love Jughead Jones, even if we're broken up right now. I tell myself, but some sort of impulse takes over me, causing my feet to spring forward, and this time I stay there, actively looking back at Archie— his shirtless torso, his smirk, and his messy hair. I let out a small chuckle as he grins at me, and I can't help but decipher the undertone of sorrow in his face. I wonder if he notices my own mirrored feelings.

Out of impulse, I break our eye contact to interact with him over the phone. I text, "Can't sleep?"

Moments later, he replies, "Haven't been able for the last month."

I frown at his message, as I recall Archie's father getting shot, and how he truly was crumbling faster than one could imagine. Several instances I'd even notice that he hasn't been sleeping in his room, so I mentioned it to Veronica.

By the time I look up from my text, Archie's out of sight and I naturally assume that he's gone to bed. I turn out my own lamp, getting my bed ready and cozy for me to jump in. With the Black Hood getting on my business lately, I get frightened from the littlest things— even the dark. Somehow the Black Hood has revived childhood fears that although I've grown from, will prevail over time.

But just as I am turning out the light, something clings on my window and I scream systematically, uncertain of what to do. I fall to the ground, the fright and panic paralyzing me in a state of shock. Although I'm not screaming, I feel frozen, I feel helpless, and I feel dead. That's when I see Archie's face appear in the window, filled with concern, and he begins punching the screen like he did the ice when Cheryl nearly committed suicide. As soon as I catch a glance at his eyes, my heart beat normalizes again and I regain control of myself. Had I not recollected myself, it looks as if Archie was about to break my window just to get in.

Opening the screen, I embrace the ginger in a comforting hug. "Arch," I squeal in relief.

"Betty? Are you okay?" His hands find my cheeks, caressing them tensely, yet so gently at the same time.

"I-I'm fine, Archie. You just scared the life out of me, that's all," My breath slowly regulates, and I take a seat on my mattress.

The room is silent for a moment, with Archie and I exchanging emotional glances, full of thought and possibly regret.

Breaking the eerie silence, Archie speaks, "Ronnie and I, we broke up tonight. I stupidly said I loved her and now she feels she doesn't deserve me."

"She'll come around, Arch. Veronica loves you," I reassure him, rubbing my hand across his back.

Archie swoops up, pacing back and forth across my room. His hand reaches his chin with sweat forming as he seems to grow very contemplative.

"I don't even know if I meant it," He finally explains.

In response, I scrunch my eyebrows. Knowing Archie, he's a very indecisive person that doesn't know what he wants, especially now. But as his longest friend I try not to control his decisions so he can grow like he should.

I roughly ask, "What do you mean, Archie?"

He sits back down besides me, scooting even closer than he was before, "I just think I said it because we'd just shared an intimate moment. I don't think I love her like I should, Betty."

Archie's eyes find mine as he speaks the last words of his statement, and I slowly linger in his glare. I'm left speechless, my cheeks burning as he waits patiently for a response.

"Why's that?" I ask, looking at my hands.

He starts, "It feels wrong, Betty. I don't know if I'll ever get there with her. And you, Betty—"

"Betty! Honey, are you okay?" My mom barges in just before Archie could finish his statement. "Archie, what are you doing here? Is he the reason you screamed, Betty? Get out, Andrews!"

Immediately, I jump in front of him before the bat my mom brought to defend me hits him. Archie mutters lengths of apologies and yet again, my mother has scared away my best friend.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Cooper, I was just talking to your daughter..." He mumbles, as I stand between him and my mom.

Archie bids his farewells while exiting my room, and now I'm left wondering what he was going to tell me before my mother came in.

I scorn at my mom, not even bothering to explain why Archie was here. He's Archie after all, and she needs to get over him being my friend. Because he'll always be my friend.

"I apologize Betty, I freaked out," She holds me in a hug, and I embrace because at the end of the day, she's my mother.

"Just take it easy on Archie, mom. His dad got shot, his girlfriend broke up with him, and I don't think he needs you to add on his list of problems."

"Yeah," My mom sighs, "But I can't forget how he hurt you though, honey. Don't you think you deserve better?"

I'm nodding to her but, truthfully, I don't think so. Archie is a good guy and to compare him to anyone for that matter is unfair and ridiculous.

Plus, I love Jughead. He's the type of person I'll forever be grateful for, even if we're not on the best terms right now.

Before I sleep, I notice my scars, all lining up when I reenact a vision of my fingers meeting my palms. It pains me to accept the truth, but as the painful experiences trouble my mind, and as soon as Lollipop rings on my phone, I realize I'm not okay.