There was one stop Jughead demanded they made on the way to Betty's - they stopped at his Dad's old trailer to grab his beanie, which was now secured tightly on his head.
Betty shoved her house key in the lock, the two of them shivering from being soaked to the core.
"Promise me one thing," Betty started, teeth chattering. "You said forty-eight hours, so give me forty-eight hours, okay? If I leave the room, don't sneak out or anything. Promise me that."
Jughead stood in the foyer, pulling his wet sneakers off his feet. "Yeah, forty-eight hours, I got it."
"I'm serious. Don't pull any shit on me. Please."
"I won't. Scouts honor." Jughead held up three fingers.
Betty gave him a cautious smile, then pulled off her damp sweater. "Give me your clothes, I'll throw them in the dryer."
Jughead cocked an eyebrow at her, incredulous.
Betty rolled her eyes. "Okay, wait here. I'll bring you something else."
She climbed the stairs quickly, closing the door to her bedroom as she stripped off her wet clothing and tossed them in the laundry basket beside her dresser. She pulled on yoga pants and an oversize hoodie, then grabbed her laundry basket and padded across the hall to her parents room.
She opened her dads dresser drawers searching for something to give to Jughead that wouldn't be five sizes too big. She settled on a pair of pajama pants and an old band t-shirt she'd never seen before, then turned and left the room.
When Betty didn't see Jughead standing where she had left him, panic rose in her chest.
She padded through the living room, past the dining room. Nothing.
Fuck, she thought. She continued into the kitchen, where every cupboard was wide open. He has half hidden in the fridge, his head bobbing up and down.
She cleared her throat. "You scared the shit out of me."
Jughead stood straight up, his cheeks ballooning like a chipmunks. "What?" He mumbled through a full mouth.
"You weren't in the hall and I thought…" She trailed off.
"Forty-eight hours," Jughead said, swallowing whatever he had in his mouth.
Betty threw the clean clothes toward Jughead, which he caught in his hand.
"Bring me your damp stuff and I'll throw them in the washer with mine," Betty said, giving him some privacy.
A few moments later, as Betty stood in the living room wringing her hands together, Jughead padded into the room with the laundry basket against his hip, clad in Hal Cooper's pajama pants and top, a turkey leg between his teeth.
Betty stared at him incredulously.
"What? I eat when I'm sad."
"Aren't you always eating?"
"I'm always sad," Jughead countered.
Betty didn't say anything for a moment. "I didn't even know we had left over turkey."
"You don't anymore," Jughead smirked with a full mouth.
Betty ignored him. "I'm going to put this stuff in the washer, stay here, okay?"
"You don't have to tell me to 'stay here' every time you leave the room or this is going to be a very long two days."
"Fine. I'll be right back," Betty murmured as she strolled away.
Jughead let his shoulders drop as he sat on the couch, taking a bite off the turkey leg. What the hell was he doing here?
Betty padded back into the room quietly, her head down. She sat next to Jughead as he pulled the last of the meat off the bone. She ran her palms against the fabric of her pants.
"So what now?" Jughead started, swallowing what was left in his mouth. "Are we going to give each other pedicures and braid each others hair?"
Betty rolled her eyes. She really hadn't thought this far ahead.
"Why don't you tell me about yourself?" She said slowly.
Jughead scoffed. "We were friends until the 7th grade. We've been in the same school all our lives. What exactly would you like me to tell you?"
Betty steeled herself against his words. "You could tell me why you want to kill yourself."
Jughead cocked his eyebrow. "You first."
Betty stared at him.
"Not so easy, is it?"
"No," She said quietly.
Jughead sat back against the couch, his arms folded against his chest.
Betty sighed. "Look, you agreed to try. You're here for a reason. Please?"
Jughead nodded. "Alright," He said quietly. "Maybe start off a little bit lighter though?"
"Why don't I grab us some drinks and then we can go to my room?"
Jughead cocked his eyebrow.
"It's just where I feel most comfortable."
Betty disappeared into the kitchen for a moment, and came back with two cans of coke. The two of them walked wordlessly up the stairs and into Betty's room.
"Alright," Betty said as she closed her bedroom door. She grabbed two pillows and handed one, as well as one can of coke, to Jughead. She tossed her pillow on the ground and sat cross-legged on top of it, then patted the ground across from her.
Jughead sighed and sat down.
"Why don't we play 21 Questions? No question off limits."
"Okay," Jughead answered, his tone clipped.
"What's your favorite movie?"
"I thought you said we were going to start off with easy subjects?"
Betty stared incredulously at Jughead, a smile playing on her lips. "What? That is an easy subject…"
"Who on earth has one favorite movie? Can you narrow it down to decade or genre?"
The smile didn't leave Betty's face. He was finally showing some of his true self. "Okay, how about your favorite… Robert De Niro movie?"
Jughead opened his mouth, then closed it once more. "Taxi Driver or Heat. I can't decide."
Betty searched Jughead's face. It absolutely lit up when he talked about movies.
"Your turn to ask something," She prompted.
"If you could only eat one food for the rest of your life, what would it be?"
"Pizza, I guess."
"Pizza you guess?" Jughead replied disbelievingly. "What do you mean, you guess?"
"I-I can't really imagine eating one food for the rest of my life, Jughead, so I guess it would be pizza."
Jughead sighed.
"Alright," Betty said, thinking. "What's one song that's totally a guilty-pleasure song? Like, you're not exactly embarrassed by it, but if someone looked through your music library, it would stick out like a sore thumb?"
"Walking In Memphis by Marc Cohn… or King Of Wishful Thinking by Go West. I'm a sucker for the Pretty Woman soundtrack."
Betty's mouth hung open slightly, a smile slowly spreading back across her face. "You are not!" She smiled.
Jughead nodded. "I am. I love 80′s music."
"I love both those songs, by the way."
Jughead gave her a small smile. "Am I allowed to ask the same question?"
Betty shrugged and returned his smile. "Sure, if that's what you want to know."
Jughead nodded.
"Breakfast At Tiffany's by Deep Blue Something. I just… it gets stuck in my head all the time. I love it."
"I've never heard it."
"Everybody's heard it! You just don't know you've heard it. I'll play it for you when we're done." Betty thought for a second. "Okay, what's one movie that everybody seems to love but you just don't get the hype?"
"Grease." He said immediately. "I just don't get it. She completely changes herself at the end and that's how she gets him. That, or Citizen Kane. I just.. fell asleep. It's a classic, sure, but there are much better classics."
"Your turn."
"Same question."
"You can't keep stealing my questions, Jughead!"
"Last one, I'm just curious."
Betty sighed. "Sleeping Beauty?" She posed it as a question. "There's just a whole lot of nothing going on! I mean, Beauty and the Beast, Mulan, now those are some great Disney movies."
Jughead couldn't help but smirk.
"What!" Betty protested. "You can't make fun of my answer."
"No judgement," Jughead promised.
"Why did you and Archie stop hanging out?" Betty asked quietly.
Jughead spread his legs out in front of him. The smile slipped off his face. "He bailed on me a lot. Like he was tired of being my friend but didn't have the heart to tell me. This summer we were supposed to go on a road trip, y'know, spend more time together, catch up. Try and save our friendship- we'd been best friends since birth. But he blew me off for that, too, never apologized or gave me an explanation or even a second glance at school."
"I'm sorry."
Jughead shrugged. Then, after a moment, "Why do you like him?" He took a long gulp of coke.
Betty blushed. "What do you mean? I - how did you?"
Jughead didn't answer, just raised an eyebrow. "He was my best friend, Betty."
She sighed. "I liked him, I did. I really did. But after that dance, he told me he didn't see me the same way, so I made myself stop seeing him like that - easier said than done, but it's working. I don't have those feelings for him anymore." Betty looked at her carpet, at Jughead's socked feet, anywhere but his eyes. "First crush?" She murmured toward the ground.
He held her eyes for a moment before he spoke. "Can we pick this back up in a minute? I could really use a shower." Jughead sighed as he stood.
"Sure, go ahead. I'll show you where the towels are."
Jughead's hair left water droplets on the light carpet between the bathroom and Betty's room. He had changed back into Hal's pajamas and t-shirt and he smiled to himself as he padded down the hall. He had his next question prepared.
He could hear her speaking to someone as he pushed her bedroom door open quietly.
"I know!" Betty laughed, her back towards her bedroom door. "How pathetic is he?" She laughed into her cellphone.
"Fuck you," Jughead spat, walking into Betty's bedroom. He grabbed his warm, freshly folded clothing from her bed and turned toward her door to leave.
"Shit," Betty murmured. She dropped her phone and raced after Jughead.
