Author's Note:
From the "Writing Prompts" list, prompt 81: "We're in the middle of a thunderstorm and you want to stop and feel the rain?"
The rolling echo of another thunderclap had Sweet Pea unsteady on his feet, feeling like Marty McFly blasted backwards by the mother of all amps. He tightened his grip on the plastic bag handles, though they were already digging unforgivingly into his fingers. It felt to him like a giant was advancing on them to fold their world in half like a board game, and what was he doing? Running? No, he was carrying fucking groceries, walking side by side down the quiet Northside street where the Andrews lived… with the Andrews themselves. Any minute, the downpour would begin and he was out here in the open, the tallest of the three men, like some kind of goddamn lightning rod.
Toni had practically forced him to go, pleading and threatening while her girlfriend alternately nodded sweetly and glared at him from over Toni's shoulder. Apparently, just staying out of the way of their hosts wasn't a good enough demonstration of Serpent gratitude for Fred Andrews taking them in. Sweet Pea liked things to be fair, didn't enjoy the feeling of being in somebody's debt, but when he'd offered to help with the practical task of feeding the Serpents, he'd thought it would mean chipping in grocery money or stealing some out of Jughead's wallet. (Everybody knew he'd taken Betty to a hotel. The guy had to have a secret stash somewhere.) Instead, these two pro-environment, anti-Sweet-Pea's-patience hippies had insisted on walking to the grocery store and home again.
And now it was starting to rain.
Sweet Pea angled his head down and clamped his fists differently around the bags in his hands so the food wouldn't get wet. It wasn't selfless; he had two cardboard boxes of KD in there that he didn't want soaked through. Picking up his pace, as he assumed Archie and Fred would be doing as well, he stepped forward and nearly tripped both himself and Archie as he caught the back of the Bulldog's sneaker with his own.
"Shit," he jerked out, flicking the wet hair from his eyes with a toss of his head. "What are you doing?"
He was shocked to see that Archie didn't look mad. Mr. Varsity Football just smiled (smiled!) and nodded towards his father. Blinking as the sky cranked open the faucet all the way, Sweet Pea stared at Fred Andrews, who stood, head tilted back, in the middle of the street. He looked like a future probe victim, immobilized by a sci-fi beam and awaiting the approach of the mothership.
"We're in the middle of a thunderstorm and you want to stop and feel the rain?" Sweet Pea shouted at the older and far more likable Andrews.
Fred lowered his head and shrugged his shoulders, jostling the bags of food in his hands.
"I was almost killed twice this year," he offered. Fair enough, Sweet Pea thought, never having been shot even once, let alone twice. "It's taught me to enjoy things. Archie here has learned to humour me." A nod for the redheaded wonder. "Maybe you will too, Sweet Pea, while you're staying with us."
Sweet Pea rocked his head to the side, not committing to so much as a shrug, let alone a promise to develop a tolerance for Mr. Andrews' quirks.
The three of them continued down the street together, getting drenched more by the second. After a few minutes, it started to feel kind of nice. The Andrews only had one shower and the line for it in the mornings was stupid-long, so he was due for a wash anyway. The thunder was an awesome sound and Sweet Pea concentrated on the way fat drops of rain were exploding into puddles, making the ground quiver like the cup of water in Jurassic Park. He couldn't remember the last time he'd stayed out in the rain because he wanted to be there. What he could remember was the last time he'd been in it with Archie.
"Hey," he said, taking a few jogging steps to catch up to where the other guy was walking just behind his father, and giving him a nudge with his elbow. Archie looked sideways at him, suspicious.
"I swear to god, Sweet Pea, if you're going to make fun of my dad―"
"No, Andrews," he butted in, sort of offended, despite the fact that what Archie assumed of him was exactly the reputation he'd built for himself. Whoops. "I was just gonna say this reminds me of that other night. You know," Sweet Pea continued, sort of laughing now and totally ignoring the odd look on Archie's face, "when we had the big brawl in front of your place until your girlfriend broke it up by firing that gun?"
Smack! They both ran into the back of Fred Andrews' wet jacket. Sweet Pea's socks were flooded as the man stomped a puddle, turning on them.
"WHAT?"