It started during the memorial. Betty watched, stomach in knots, as Veronica rushed up to hug Cheryl Blossom.
"Oh my god…" slipped between her lips, low and soft but not enough to get past Kevin.
"I know. Poor Cheryl."
That wasn't it. Or, it was, but it wasn't. Or it wasn't all, or...Betty didn't know. All she could do was sit there, stunned, sick, shivering, as if the ghost of Jason Blossom had risen from the casket and was walking among them.
Jason wasn't there. Of course. He was cold and dead and decaying somewhere, a bloated memory slowly putrefying, souring everything around them even though he no longer lived. Infecting everything.
He made her sister sick.
He made her father sick.
And the way Cheryl was looking at Veronica, nakedly, with all the selfish desperation of a drowning woman, uncaringly dragging others underwater in the need to survive, to breathe.
The same way she looked at Jason.
It was making Betty sick.
As it turned out, there was so much more that she didn't know, about her family, about Polly and her dad, that she quickly pushed the jealousy she felt when she saw Veronica embracing Cheryl out of her head.
Because even if she knew just one thing, it was that she was never going to be like Polly.
The next day was warm and sunny, which Betty took as a personal affront considering the clouds of suspicion and intrigue that seemed to hang around Riverdale like a noose. But the prospect of her life becoming a murder mystery wasn't going to prevent her from drowning her sorrows in a milkshake and onion rings at Pop's, where she was currently sitting in a booth across from Archie and Jughead.
"Ho-ly shit. You guys." Veronica slid into the seat next to Betty, closing her hand around Betty's straw - which Betty was still holding, actually, which was kind of awkward but barely registered on the scale of someone who had kissed her on their second day of meeting - and drawing it to her lips. "Why did no one tell me Cheryl Blossom's family is straight out of a gothic novel? I expected to see Mrs. Rochester locked up in the attic somewhere."
Jughead nodded around his burger. "Did you meet the granny Blossom? They say she hasn't left the house in years. She'd probably turn to ash in the sun if she tried."
"Ugh, don't say things like that. I didn't get any sleep at all the other night. I kept expecting her mom to murder us all in our beds."
Betty jerked her hand away, almost tipping the milkshake over.
"Wait, why were you sleeping at Cheryl's?"
Veronica looked at her strangely. "Because she invited me to a totally creepy sleepover and while it was the most awkward dinner party of my life, she still lost her brother and needs a friend. I can relate." Veronica looked down. "When they...when my dad left, no one would talk to me. The people I thought were my friends, well, let's just say there turned out to be a lot more interested in my dad's money than my incredible wit and charm. I know it was kinda my fault for surrounding myself with people like that, but...even though I used to be a total bitch. I could have used a friend."
Pain and shame rose on Betty's face as she thought about what Veronica had gone through and remembered the jealousy she'd felt at the memorial. Of course Cheryl needed a friend. Of course Veronica had reached out to her when they had so much in common. Of course.
Betty prided herself on being a good person. She thought she was a good person, at least. She tried to be a good person, and everyone told her she was one. Good people didn't get jealous over their friends hugging a grieving sister at her brother's funeral. Good people shared. Good people were selfless.
Betty was a good person, so she made up her mind to let Veronica have the whole milkshake. It was a small penance to pay for her sins.
She felt amply repaid when Ronnie turned to her with dancing eyes and a wicked smile and asked her about her 'not-date' with Trevor.
Jughead insisted she spend the next day with him at the river after school. Something about the inspiration of the murder scene, even though they didn't know exactly where Jason was killed, nor could they have gotten around the police presence if they had.
Letting her eyes follow the rushing water downstream, she wondered if blood and maple syrup looked the same in the swirling muddy depths.
"My dad said Jason's great-grandad killed mine."
Jughead looked at her out of the corner of her eye.
"That's a long time to hold a grudge."
She nodded. "He said the Blossoms wanted to cheat us out of the maple syrup fortune."
Jughead snorted. "Seriously?! Tell him to make up a better story. If I put that in my book no one'd believe it."
"Hm. Yeah, I'll be sure to let him know right after I explain I'm trying to find out if he murdered Jason." The rain in the mountains upriver was washing all kind of trash downstream; at some point some flowers had gotten caught up in the swell and were sliding past them, disappearing and reappearing in the churning water.
"Do you think you could ever love something enough to give up everything you've ever known?"
He chuckled. "Well, I don't think burgers are going anywhere, so…"
"Ok, good point." She shrugged. "I was just thinking about Polly. And Jason, I guess, since his grandmother thought I was her. They were engaged, Juggy, and she never told anyone. Not even me. She probably thought she couldn't trust me." She paused. "She was probably right."
"No offence, Bets, you know I love you, but isn't this something you'd rather be talking to Veronica about? Or, like, anyone else? Please?"
"And that's another thing! Veronica keeps blowing me off for Cheryl!"
"It was like one time."
"No, she texted me today to cancel our study night because Cheryl needed to cry on her or something. Last week they hated each other!"
"I'm pretty sure Cheryl's not trying to take Veronica away from you."
Jealousy clawed at her chest. "I'd like to see her try." She hated the roughness of her voice even as it made her feel powerful. She thought of the black wig, and red lipstick.
It made her think of Veronica, too. The way her dark eyes flicked over her body when Betty had emerged in the lingerie, as if she didn't want to look but couldn't help it. The way Veronica's lipstick had tasted on her lips. Belatedly, she realized it was the same red as the tube her mother had hated. She wondered where she would have been right now if Veronica hadn't rolled into town like her own personal avenging angel, sorting out 16 years of pining over Archie the first week, with enough time left over to make Betty a cheerleader and inspire her to start standing up for herself.
Betty thought about Veronica a lot.
"Calm down, killer. I'm sure the high school hierarchy will soon revert to its natural order and you and Veronica can get back to makeovers or braiding each other's hair or whatever else it is you do together." He threw a rock into the water, annoyed at the lack of progress they'd made today. "Let's get back. Jason isn't getting any deader."
