CHAPTER ONE

It was a simple Monday night at Pop's Chock'lit Shoppe, the retro diner that seemed to be Riverdale's version of fine dining. The diner was populated with its usual crowd, sitting in their usual places. On one end of the diner, you find the quartet that you never saw apart-Veronica, Betty (known as B&V), Kevin, and Archie. On the opposite end, just like opposite worlds, sat the Serpents, a rowdy bunch, gnawing through the wonderful burgers and shakes that Pop Tate offered (usually without charge, that kind man.)

"So, tell us B." Veronica said, after slurping on her wonderfully delicious vanilla shake. "How is it being Riverdale High's Lois Lane?" Betty chuckled. It was absolutely terrible. She, stupidly, had to agreed to singlehandedly run the Blue & Gold, which meant that dark circles grew under her eyes and her anxiety and panic attacks worsened. "It's great. It'll look great on my applications, too." She said, trying to remind herself exactly why she was torturing herself-attempting to balance a social life, cheerleading as a River Vixen, and running the Blue & Gold. "Do you ever think about anything other than college?" Kevin asked, rolling his eyes in a teasing way. "Live a little bit." He said encouragingly. Betty smiled wryly. "I'm fine." She responded. "Are you sure?" Archie asked, suddenly leaping out of the blank void his mind had been wandering before. "You haven't touched your burger at all." "I'm not hungry," she said forcefully. "I had a huge lunch." "You weren't at lunch." Veronica pointed out. "I ate at home. My mom made me mac n' cheese. Besides, what is this? Twenty questions?" "Just have a few fries." Archie pleaded. "You must be starving after Cheryl's awful cheerleading practice." His words spoke truth. She was starving, but as she looked down bashfully, she saw the fat on her thighs panned out over the seats. "C'mon, Betty!" Kevin said. "Do it for the team." "Fine." She said, finally caving.

Once she started, she couldn't stop. She ravenously tore through her burger and fries, smiling as her stomach was finally satisfied. But afterwards, waves of guilt and remorse washed over her. She heard her mother's scolding voice. What are you doing to yourself? You used to be so beautiful and skinny, now you're fat and ugly. She squirmed in her seat, fingernails digging into her palm due to the stress she had induced on herself. I'm so stupid, she told herself. I can't lose weight if I can't stop myself from eating a single fucking burger. No one noticed her sudden silence, and she whispered to Veronica. "I'm going to run to the bathroom." She muttered. "Don't worry if I take long, girl issues." She said slyly and with a wink. Veronica smiled in return. "Don't worry," she said, and scooted out, making room for Betty to run to the single unisex bathroom in the back of Pop's.

Jughead had needed to pee since downing two chocolate milkshakes in a little less than an hour, but was so intrigued with Toni's tale that he waited until it was finished. Once finished, he smiled apologetically at his friends, and said: "Be right back," He half walked and half waddled over to the back of the diner, hoping the bathroom would be open. Luckily, it was unlocked and cracked open. He sighed a breath of relief-if there was a wait; he was absolutely convinced his bladder would explode. He pushed the door open to find a situation too fast to process. The sound of quiet gagging and retching, a bouncing blonde ponytail, a girl, wearing a cashmere sweater, shoulders heaving, body perched over the toilet bowl, puking the remnants of her dinner out.

Betty had done this before-once. She didn't consider herself a bulimic, but she knew how to process worked. She closed the door gently behind her, fastened her ponytail to be a little higher (she simply didn't feel like cleaning her blonde hair of puke), and bent over the toilet bowl. It was simple, she shoved her finger down her throat. Her tears stung her eyes as her entire body shook with exertion. She removed her finger from her throat, upset that her gag reflex had not been triggered. She forced down her throat again, this time overpowered with the want to retch. It felt like her entire dinner had come up-the toilet bowl was filled with her loosely digested dinner. She smiled with content, and repeated the process.

It took Jughead a few moments to process the sight, and Betty a few seconds to realize that a young man was standing behind her. "Excuse me?" Jughead, gently letting her know that he was there. She almost jumped with surprised. Her head turned around so fast that Jughead thought it snapped off. Her eyes widened. "Are you okay?" He asked, approaching her slowly, concern on his face. She scrambled to get her things, which were strewn across the floor. "What's your name?" He asked, trying a different question. She wiped the remaining vomit off her mouth, and whispered: "Elizabeth Cooper-I mean, call me Betty." "Betty? I'm Jughead." She scoffed at the name. "Jughead?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. "Trust me," he chuckled. "The real one's worse." "Betty," he said, turning the conversation serious again. (As if it wasn't already.) "Are you okay?" "I'm fine," she quickly responded, shrugging. "I was just nauseous. "So nauseous you stuck your finger down your throat?" He inquired.

Shit. Betty thought. He had seen that. Thoughts raced across her mind with excuses for her bulimic behavior. "I'm sorry." She choked out, attempting to stand up. She almost fainted, but Jughead caught her. "Sit down." He cooed, gently leading her back to the ground. "I've got to get back to my friends." She protested, her brow furrowing with worry. What if they came in here? What if they saw the vomit on the ground surrounding the toilet? "First," he whispered kindly. "Let's get you cleaned up." She nodded, silent tears trailing down her cheeks. He grabbed a couple paper towels and offered them to her. She grabbed them, and wiped the drying puke off her cheeks and collar. "Are you okay?" Jughead probed, placing a hand on her shoulder. Through the layers of cashmere and cotton, he could feel the bone jutting out. "You shouldn't make yourself throw up." He stated. "You're beautiful already." She shook her head in disagreement. "The thing is, Juggie, I'm not."

Jughead's heart fluttered in his own chest, and his stomach was filled with butterflies. He had gone to pee, but was now cradling a tearful (and beautiful) girl in his leather-covered arms. "Betty, you are beautiful. I just met you, and I think you're beautiful." He said, trying to forget how warm he felt when the nickname Juggie rolled off her lips. "Betty Cooper, you just might be the most beautiful creature I've ever seen." She shook her head, sobbing while doing so. "I'm so fat," she complained. "I used to be so thin…"she trailed off. "You're only saying this because you're conscience feels bad for the bulimic girl you saw in the bathroom." I wish she knew how wrong she was, Jughead thought to himself. "Trust me, if you really knew me, you'd know I don't have much of conscience." She smiled dryly.

"What's your name?" "Jughead," he responded, a little hurt that she'd already forgot. "No! Your real name." "You don't need to know that." He said. "Tell me yours, and I'll tell you a little about myself." She smiled, knew it was an offer he couldn't resist. "Forsythe Pendleton Jones III." "Oh, shit." She said quietly, not realizing the hurt expression on his face. "Well, I like Juggie way better." She said, smiling. "Tell me something about you." Jughead whispered. Her fists, which had been clenched in an angry fashion, relaxed, revealing deep, crescent-shaped scars. He gasped, putting the two-and-two together. She rolled her sleeves up, exposing her bony, pipe cleaner arms, which were covered in tiny scars. "Betty…" He said, shaking his head in disappointment. "I've got them too." He shed his leather jacket, revealing that his arms, although much more muscular, were covered in similar scars. They sat there talking for God knows how long, two people desperately needed help who had finally found one they who could help them. That is until Veronica Lodge interrupted their perfect bliss. "Betty Cooper, what the hell do you think you're doing in a bathroom with fucking Jughead Jones?!"