As Jughead approached the quaint little bookstore in the dinky suburb of Riverdale, he felt nothing but defeat in his heart.
It has to be here.
He had been searching high and low for this one book, a special edition, limited print of the only book Jellybean has ever liked, and this was his last stop. Her birthday was tomorrow and if the novel didn't turn up here, then he would have to surrender his "Best Big Brother" Mug and give her an insincere Amazon Gift Card and an "I'm sorry" smile.
It has to be here.
He took a deep breath in before entering the store and being greeted by the charming ring of the bell above the door. A cursory glance around the front room told him that the store was certainly not as small as he had originally anticipated. There were shelves and shelves of books, ranging from the obscure to the commercially known, all organized by the color of their book jackets, something that couldn't be a simple endeavor to maintain.
There seemed to be no one at the register and a large hoard of people huddled in the back, in a room that was alive with vibrant colors. He drifted toward the area, taking peeks here or there for his target.
When he arrived in the rear of the store, he understood exactly what had everyone so enraptured.
Three was a young woman, around his age, he presumed, who sat in a chair with a children's book in her hand, surrounded by a group of enthralled five-year-olds and their parents. Her light blonde hair was tied in a tight pony-tail that moved with the turn of her head and her fair skin was complemented by a free-flowing floral dress.
Though her looks seem to draw him in, it was absolutely the soothing lilt of her voice that surely captured the attention of everyone who entered here. He could listen to her talk for hours, about anything, and never tire of the gentle timbre that she used. She had a calm about her, despite the craziness that must come from owning a haven for rambunctious kids.
Jughead was sure. He had to meet this woman.
He waited for her to finish the story book, applauding when the baby bird finally found his mother, and watching as all the mothers and fathers gushed about how much their kids loved her story time.
It took at least twenty minutes for the commotion to die down and most of the little ones and company to filter out, some even purchasing the book she read.
She was at the register when he finally decided it was time.
"Excuse me, Miss?" He said, already regretting his choice of an opening line. He didn't "have much game" as his buddy Archie would say, but he could have certainly done better than that.
He was momentarily stunned when she turned around and her eyes met his. They were the most beautiful shade of green that he had ever seen, something could spend hours pouring over on his vintage Underwood but never truly capture.
She smiled brightly at him, warmth radiating through her features, "Yes! How can I help you?"
"I'm looking for this book"— he held out the warn out copy that Jelly had given to him "as a lone only"—"that they just had a limited release of a few weeks ago. I have looked through every Barnes and Nobles for 20 miles of the city and cannot find it for the life of me. Could you help? You are kinda my last hope."
"You're in luck!" She quipped. "I happen to have a few copies of it behind the desk. It is one of my favorites and I didn't want to sell it to anyone who hasn't read the regular edition."
He sighed in relief at the news as she presented the book to him. "Oh, I haven't read it myself…Its a gift for my sister. Her birthday is tomorrow and it is her absolute favorite book. Something I try not to take offense to as an author myself."
She laughed at his comment, already hard at work on the gift wrapping before he even uttered the last of his thought. "Ahh, a writer. Anything I may have read?"
He blushed. He was proud of his work, but it was always awkward when people found out who he was. He wrote because he loved it, not for the paychecks or the recognition. "Mostly crime and mystery. Occasional satire. I write as F. Jones III."
She smiled timidly at him, but the excitement in her eyes betrayed her. She knew him. "Yeah, I have definitely read your stuff. Look at the bookcase behind you. Third shelf from the top."
He turned around to see the wood piece labeled "Owner's Top Picks" and found the shelf she had mentioned. On that shelf, sat all of his published works. "My own shelf…I'm honored."
The phrase came out as a joke, but, honestly, he was honored. This woman had a sincerity that is hard to come by. She obviously has a somewhat refined taste, judging by some of the notable literature that filled the shelves of the bookcase in front of him. He felt…special, to be among these greats, to be loved by her.
God, Jughead had only just met her and he was sold.
"It might not be there for long. Looks like they are constructing a new chain right down the block. Could really stamp us out," she said, a wave of sadness clouding her delicate features. She finished the gift with a curly bow and handed it to him. "On the house. From a fan."
"No! I insist, really."
The woman looks at him, amused. "And I insist you take it. Get your sister the author's new release when it comes out."
Jughead cannot believe this woman. She wants to give him this limited edition book, which is easily over $100, probably much more. "I have to do something." I have to see her again, he thinks, as she walks away from the counter, a broom in her hands. "Can I at least get your name? I'm Jughead."
"Betty. Betty Cooper. So, what does the 'F' stand for?" She asked with a bemused expression on her face.
"How about I tell you over coffee?"
That coffee date was the first of many.
Jellybean loved her birthday present, but was even more excited when Jughead brought a date to her party the following week.
Turns out that Betty meeting Jughead was the best thing to happen to the store. When it threaten to go under after a new corporate giant appeared down the street, Jughead's book signing brought in enough traffic to keep them open for years to come.
Jughead thought that that meeting Betty was the best thing to happen to him.
He made sure to tell her that, a year later, when he got down on one knee in the middle of the store.
I hope you all liked it! This is my first Riverdale One-Shot, so any feedback is appreciated! For those of you who read it, Letters to Juliet will be updated soon, I promise.