"Well then leave him." FP pauses, seemingly surprised by his own words. "At home."
He walks away from her before she can collect herself and get a word in edgewise. She thinks about yelling something as he gets further behind the counter - she was always one to get the last word in - but she doesn't want to cause a scene. Not here, not now.
Gee, if only her sixteen-year-old self could see her now. Alice Smith not wanting to cause a scene.
Only she wasn't Alice Smith anymore. Hadn't been for twenty-one years now.
She needs to calm herself before she gets home, but doesn't dare sit in her station wagon in the parking lot. Not when a simple glance outside was all it would take for FP to know what he did. How he got to her. He'd always been so good at that.
She momentarily considers driving through the Southside to kill time, but opts to take the long way home instead.
Hal's sitting at the kitchen table, working at his laptop. His eyes dart to her before traveling back down to the screen.
"You stormed out of here pretty quick." He continues typing. "Everything okay?"
Alice lets her purse fall on the table a little harder than intended. Hal pauses his fingers over the keyboard and meets her eyes.
"Betty. Did she tell you?" Hal raises his eyebrow. "The party for FP?"
"Ah." He closes his laptop. "That."
"Yes, that ." She sighs and takes a seat opposite of him. "I just went down to Pops to see him. I… Hal . I don't want Betty over there, at that bar, on that side of town."
He folds his hands on the table and she knows he's about to put on his reasonable voice. The one to calm her down. "And if we tell her she can't go, how's that going to pan out?"
"Maybe… maybe I should go with her. Chaperone."
He pauses and she can practically hear the words he's swallowing.
"You? Chaperone a party at the Whyte Wyrm?"
"And why not?" she snaps without meaning to. She's getting defensive and it's seconds before he sees right through her. "I mean, to keep an eye on them. I'm sure all the kids will be there - Jughead, Veronica, Archie - and God knows FP or any of those other Serpents won't be keeping an eye on them. I'd hate to see Jughead develop the same taste for the drink his father has."
He tilts his head slightly. "You think this a good idea?"
"Yes." She nods with certainty. "Yes, I do, Hal."
He reaches across the table and takes her hand. "Then go. If you think it's for the best."
She squeezes his hand. "I do. I need to keep an eye on Betty."
"You should get ready then."
She lets go of him and stands up. He opens his laptop again and she doesn't realize she's staring at him until he looks back up at her.
"Hunny?"
She shakes her head and smiles. "You don't… you don't want to come, do you?"
He chuckles. "Me? You want me to go to the Whyte Wyrm with you?"
She shrugs nonchalantly, pouts her lips. She's sixteen all over again and trying to coax Hal into things he doesn't want to do. Trying to push him out of his comfort zone. She'd always been good at it. "I mean, if you want to."
Hal shakes his head. He's not sixteen anymore and has gotten better at saying no. "You don't need me there, Alice." He looks back down at his screen. "Let Betty drive if you're drinking."
"Oh, I'm not going to drink."
"Have a drink." His blue eyes pierce hers. "Have three . You're allowed to have some fun."
She's on her knees in the walk-in closet when she finds what she's looking for - a leather skirt she hasn't worn in years. In the same bag, she finds some clothes she had confiscated from Polly, including a mesh shirt she knew her teenage self would have loved. (Polly swore it was for a Halloween costume and she'd wear something underneath. Alice was having none of that.)
She's just zipping up the skirt in the mirror when Hal comes into the bedroom. He wordlessly sits on the bed and watches as she smooths the nonexistent wrinkles. It's not until she spins around and looks at him that she notices the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile.
"Not going with that jumpsuit you wore to the SoDale event?"
"Be reasonable, Hal." She sits at her vanity and applies another coat of lipstick. She's nervous. "I don't want to be overdressed." She meets his eyes in the mirror. "Do I look okay? Or do I look like a middle aged mom trying too hard?"
"You look amazing." And she knows he's telling the truth. This is the Alice he fell in love with all those years ago. Loose haired and leather clad and every type of insecure.
She spins around on the stool and stands. "Maybe I should change."
"Don't." His voice is firm. "You'll blend right in. You'd stick out like a sore thumb in anything else."
He takes her hand and pulls her into his lap. He tucks a loose piece of hair behind her ear and looks her up and down before he speaks again.
"Just promise me one thing tonight, Alice."
She nods. "Yes?"
"Don't let him get to you."
No need to ask who he is.
She tries her hardest to get Betty to change. That blouse and that skirt? At the Whyte Wyrm? A pang of guilt hits her. Her daughter was exactly the type of girl she would have laughed at in high school. One of those preppy Northside girls slumming it with a Southside boy to piss off their parents. Pretending they didn't care about blending in when they failed so greatly at it.
Even then it made her feel guilty because weren't she and Hal in the same exact position? And God knows she would have knocked someone square in the jaw if they said a word about him in front of her.
(Her dad always had several less than pleasant words to say about Hal. In front of her, behind her back, to the entire bar. He was the only one who could get away with it.)
Alice's first blast from the past comes in the form of bartender seconds after she leaves her daughter to her own devices. Betty thinks this party will be a good idea? Let her think that all she wants. Some of the best and worst nights of Alice's own life happened in this very bar. She hopes it won't be the same for her daughter.
Hogeye serves her three shots of tequila in a row. She's sixteen again, walking through this place like she owns it and throwing her weight around like it's no one's business. She doesn't expect any warm greetings - that was never the Serpent's way - but she gets a few nods, tips of the hat. More positive than anything she'd hoped for.
She didn't leave the Serpents on bad terms. She just left. Got arrested the end of junior year and did the barest minimum after that. Once she found out she was pregnant a few months later, she'd tried her hardest to step back without anyone noticing.
Fat chance that could have worked. Her dad had all but made a public announcement that his stupid daughter got knocked up and ditched by her preppy boyfriend. Ran off to a convent somewhere to lick her wounds.
Alice never looked back. The Coopers had taken pity and let her stay in their daughter's old bedroom for her last few months of high school.
"Another?" a pink haired girl behind the bar asks, holding up a bottle. In her daze, staring around bar, she didn't even notice Hogeye had wandered off. Alice nods and the girl pours. "Never seen you around here. Old friend of FP's?"
"In a manner of speaking." She sips this one. The girl clearly hasn't been behind the bar too long and has filled the glass way too much. Hogeye would smack her hand if he caught that.
"I'm Toni," the girl says. Alice isn't sure if it's the tequila or the recognition that makes her release a squeal.
"Toni? Jughead's friend?" The girl crosses her arms defensively and nods. Typical Southside behavior. Trust no one. "No offense, I just wasn't expecting a girl. I'm Betty's mom."
Toni's guard is let down right away and her eyes half pop out of her skull. " You're Betty's mom? Alice Cooper from The Riverdale Register?"
She downs the rest of the shot. "That's right."
"No offense, you're just not what I was expecting."
She offers Toni a half smile and the young girl returns it. Southside sticks together, Southside understands each other. Maybe if this girl's read some of her articles or judged her sweet natured daughter a little too harshly, she'll understand now.
Her second blast from the past comes in the form of an old hag as she steps out of the bathroom. If Birdie was old when Alice was young, she's downright ancient now.
"Well, well. Little Allie." The husky, cigarette-ruined voice greets her from a table. Birdie nods to the empty chair beside her and Alice silently takes a seat. "Fallen from grace I see."
"Hardly." She helps herself to one of Birdie's cigarettes and lights up even though smoking in public establishments has been outlawed in this state since 2003. Rules like that don't apply to places where 16-year-old's man the bar. "Just passing through."
"Convenient night, what with FP back around."
She blows smoke in Birdie's direction and the older woman doesn't even flinch. "He invited me."
"And you showed up." She clicks her teeth. "Guess you're getting bored over in the Northside. You can only shit talk your own family so long before you miss them I guess."
"I have a real family now."
"Hmm." Birdie stamps out her cigarette and lights another. "Come to think of it, I haven't seen you since your father's funeral."
Alice swallows the lump in her throat. "You're mistaken. I didn't go to my father's funeral."
"Like hell you didn't. You stood in the back with those big sunglasses on. Dressed in all black, looking about ready to pop another baby out any second." She blew smoke in Alice's face and she coughed. "Keep that one?"
Alice slams her fist down and a trail of ash falls onto the table. "Of course I kept my daughters, you crone. I'm not a child, you can't talk to me like -"
"That's enough, Birdie," a voice says from right behind her. "Play nice."
And her third blast from the past comes in the form of FP Jones, fingers on the back of her chair, looking down at her.
"Daughters." Birdie says the word slowly. "You know, I met one of them the other day. One of your daughters. Asked me a lot of questions about -"
" Enough ." FP hands travel to Alice's shoulders. "Come on, let's leave her to her vices."
Alice puts out her cigarette and mouths Bitch as she stands up. This isn't new behavior by any means. Birdie had two jobs back in the day - keep the girls in line and make sure each of them hated her guts. She shudders, wondering if the hag was still trying to teach 14-year-old's what men liked.
FP keeps his hands on her shoulders, leading her to the backroom. She glances in either direction, making sure no one was paying attention to them. When she tries shrugging him off, he only grips his fingers into her.
He lets go as they walk through the curtain leading to the back. The place where the supplies are kept, where the stairs to the basement are. She takes two steps away from him once she's free and waves her finger in his direction.
"Don't you dare ."
He raises his eyebrow. "Don't dare what?"
"Don't you try… try to kiss me or pull any of your typical bullshit." She regrets her tequila fueled words once she sees the amused expression on his face.
"Try to kiss you? How old are you?"
She feels fifteen. Probably the last age she and him were back here sneaking away together. She doesn't want to feel fifteen.
"Why'd you bring me back here?"
"To talk. What the hell are you doing here? And where the hell did you dig that get up from?"
"I… you invited me."
"You weren't supposed to come."
"I'm here to chaperone. To keep an eye on the children."
"Oh yeah. Where's Betty right now?"
Her mouths hangs open. She shakes her head and shrugs.
"Yeah. Yeah, I thought so." He laughs. "Just admit it, Allie. You miss this."
"I don't."
He leans in. "You miss the excitement, the fun. Getting so drunk you can't remember what you did in the morning, wreaking havoc on everyone who dares get too close to you."
" You're too close to me."
He looks her up and down before pulling back. "Yeah, okay. Sorry." He rubs the back of his neck and looks around. "Really though, Allie. What the hell are you doing? You don't belong here."
"This place is practically my birthright. I was born into this life. If one of us doesn't belong here, it's you."
"Yeah, maybe that's true. Maybe I don't belong here anymore. Maybe that's why I'm leaving ."
She crosses her arms over her chest, all of a sudden very aware of her sheer shirt. "Are you though?"
FP scoffs. "Ye of little faith. You never believed I'd amount to anything."
"Lies," she hisses through grit teeth. She hears Hal's calm voice in her head. Don't let him get to you . She ignores it. "I used to think the world of you. You were the one who was going to get out of here. Get some big football scholarship, leave Riverdale, and -"
"And that didn't happen," he snaps. He's back in her face again, arms crossed over his chest, mocking her stance like he always did. All those years and he still knows every which way to irk her. "No, because someone dragged me into this gang -"
"Dragged you? I helped you, you ungrateful swine!" They've started the karaoke outside and she hopes it's covering her rising voice. "Your family kicked you out. You would have been out on the streets if it wasn't for my dad getting you in the Serpents."
He laughs and shakes his head slightly. "I would have managed. You pulled me into this life because it was all you knew."
"I was helping -"
"Bullshit. You brought me down to your level and then spent the rest of high school trying to climb out of the gutter. Speaking of which," he looks around dramatically even though there's obviously no one else there, "where is your husband? He finally grow some balls and learn how to say no to you?"
She hits him. Just an open palm hit to the chest, but he stumbles back. Not because it was hard, but because the move took him by surprise. She points her finger back at him, not caring how much she looks like a scolding mother or a nagging housewife.
"Don't! Don't you say a word about Hal."
"God, I remember a time when you used to be able to take a damn joke."
Her finger is shaking in front of his face and she doesn't care if he notices. "You do not get to insult my husband. Not in front of me, not in front of anyone. You have nerve. Hal's never done a thing to you. He's done nothing but be a good sport when you gave him shit back in high school. And what do you do? You repay that with suggesting I leave him? For what? For you?"
"I didn't mean it like -"
"The hell you didn't." She finally lowers her finger and takes a deep breath. "Maybe it was a mistake I came tonight."
FP brings his hand up to his chin and shakes his head. "Gladys left me. I know you know that. She left and took our little girl with her and the only reason Jug stayed was because, but some miracle of miracles, he had enough hope in his old man on that day that I'd change my ways. You think I'd wish that on another man? That failure? And you." He looks at her incredulously. "Tell me, Alice, do you think I'd throw away any chance of getting my wife back for you ? To rekindle some short lived high school fling? Living on the Northside has certainly fed your ego."
Alice's mouth is agape and they both know he's got her. An apology plays on her tongue, but doesn't come out. Instead she picks up on the shift in singing from outside.
"Is that Betty?"
"Shit." FP runs off, leaving her in the backroom. She rubs her temples and tucks her hair behind her ears. She wonders if she's really got FP wrong. If he really does want his family back, want out of the Serpents. To stop drinking, to stay on the straight and narrow.
Her head is spinning. Partly from the tequila, partly because she feels this night is turning into every kind of mistake.
She goes to watch her daughter sing.
The entire crowd is fixated on the stage. Surprising, because she can't recall the Serpents ever being karaoke people. Is her daughter just that entrancing? The only time she ever recalled everyone watching the stage like this was when there was a new girl doing her initiation.
"Oh no."
And just like that, it's become another of the worst nights of her life.
Betty's on stage in a piece of lingerie that Alice has an identical piece of. Hell, it probably is hers. She's doing that Serpent dance, the one they all had to go through. The one she did herself when she was hardly fourteen, shoved up on stage by her father being told she didn't get any special treatment just because she was his daughter. In her worst nightmare, she saw her own girls up there, being pushed into the same things she was.
Jughead is a few feet away and the horror on his face tells her no one pushed Betty into this. She was doing this of her own accord.
That makes Alice feel a little better, but not much.
She considers jumping on the stage and pulling her daughter off. Grabbing that pink skirt and blue blouse she was so annoyed at Betty for wearing a few hours ago. All she wants to do now is cover her up and run her to the car.
But doing that would accomplish nothing but embarrass them both. Hal's words come back to her from earlier, about how things would pan out if they told Betty not to go tonight. Betty finishes her routine seconds later and the dead silence is broken by a lone clap. FP riles up the crowd and tosses his jacket over Betty's shoulders.
Betty goes to her side and they listen to the spiel coming out of FP's mouth.
In 30 seconds flat, she knows she's been had. FP Jones changing? As if. A snake never changes it's scales after all.
Betty won't leave with her. It's not the night for a fight, so she walks away leaving her daughter to fix her own problems for the first time ever. The keys to the station wagon are already safely in Betty's purse and she trusts her to know she'll get home okay.
She steps outside and considers calling Hal. A panic is coming on. Maybe she should just text him (he was horrible at checking his phone) and walk to Pops. The cold air would do her some good.
Pick me up? she sends and is shocked when his reply comes within seconds. On my way.
So he's been worrying about her.
She stands on the outskirts of the parking lot so he can't miss her. Over her shoulder she sees the old payphone is still there. The one she used to call Hal from back in high school when she was in the same situation. Too drunk to hop on her bike and too pissed to ask anyone for a ride. Hell, she could have walked to her childhood home from here, but she liked calling Hal to get her. Liked him whisking her away from this wasteland she called home.
She walks back and forth along the curb, shocked when Hal pulls up in the Dodge less than ten minutes after her text. He must have practically been in the car already.
Alice gets in silently and Hal takes off without a second look at the Whyte Wyrm. He puts his hand on her bare knee and squeezes.
"Hungry?"
Tears are brimming in her eyes. "Starving."
Not two minutes later, he's pulling into the parking lot of Pops. His hand goes from her knee to the back of her neck. He gently tries to move her head to face him, but she doesn't turn.
"I can get it to go if you don't want to go inside."
"No." She fumbles unbuckling her seatbelt and he reaches down and helps. "Let's eat here."
They walk the twenty feet to the door arm in arm. Hal reaches ahead to get the door for her and Alice catches a glimpse of their reflection in the glass. Hal in his pressed chinos and pastel sweater. She in her leather and dark mesh, hanging on to his arm like she was never letting go.
All of a sudden, they really are seventeen again. She's gotten into a fight at the bar (maybe with another Serpent but most likely with her father) and called him to get her out of there, despite the dozens of others that could take her home. Only she never wanted to go home.
Alice ducks into the first booth they come across, right past the front door. Hal slides in next to her and she feels a rush of affection towards him for staying so close. Her head gently falls to his shoulder.
"You need a menu?" he asks and she smiles.
"Why? You think the food's changed in the past couple days?"
She knows he's smiling face even though she can't see his face. He presses a kiss to the top of her head.
And this - this moment right here - is why she never doubts the choice she made.
It was never a matter of choosing Hal or FP like everyone used to tease. That implied there was some kind of competition between the two of them and that was never the case.
FP was always fun, great for a good time. But that was the end of the line. He had no drive, no ambition. All those things Alice thrived off of because those were the things she wanted herself. The things Hal wanted as well.
He's already ordering her old hangover cure for her by the time she notices the waitress at their table.
"BLT and an order of onion rings." He looks down at her. "Glass of water too."
She thinks of calling after the waitress for a rootbeer float, but stops herself. Tequila, grease, and ice cream? She was just asking to stay up puking all night if she went down that road.
The diner is empty, save two other tables, so they sit in comfortable silence until their food comes a few minutes later. Sandwich in front of her, onion rings between them, and a chocolate milkshake for Hal.
She reaches for an onion ring as she finally speaks. "Thank you, Hal."
It's more than a thanks for ordering her food or picking her up. It's for everything. It's for not prying information out of her. About not telling her I told you so. It's for believing in her since she was sixteen and so, so unsure of herself. It's for being her rock all these years and knowing exactly when she needed to be weighed down.
He doesn't ask what the thank you is for, just leans down and kisses her. She probably tastes like booze and cigarettes, but there are no complaints from his end.
Alice knows she's made a lot of mistakes in her life, but Hal isn't one of them.