A Familiar Face: First Date

Jughead is the first to leave the shower so I can wash my hair without being constantly interrupted, but he doesn't step out without taking in one more long drink of my wet body. He leans in to kiss me then heads for the bathroom door after wrapping a towel around his slim waist. I watch through the foggy glass as he disappears from the bathroom and I am alone with the hot water flowing over me.

I quickly lather shampoo through my blonde tresses and rinse my hair with Jughead's 2-in-1 conditioner. Without my own loofah, I rub some body wash between my hands and run my hands all over my body to wash off any trace of last night, and I guess just now.

The cabinet under the sink it stock piled with towels and I grab the fluffiest looking one to wrap around my chest. The towel just barely covers my whole body and all of a sudden, I'm overcome with self-consciousness. Last night in the dim bar lights, I felt sexy but pretty tipsy; then, in his apartment, the heat of the moment stirred things up inside me I forgot were there, but what just happened in the shower, I have no idea. All I know is I want to get dressed and get out of here as soon as possible.

I grip the towel around me tightly, take a deep breath, then step out of the bathroom to brave the sunny apartment.

"Hey," Jughead cocks his head, "That was fast."

My lips curl into a smile and I'm frozen in my tracks, yet again. He's pulling on a white t-shirt with red stripes on the sleeves and is wearing dark wash jeans contrasting with his fair skin.

"Good morning," I try to be nonchalant and look for my clothes, "I didn't get to say that earlier."

"No, I think you were busy listening to me in the shower."

"I wasn't listening!" I cross my arms over my chest.

"Of course, you weren't, Cooper." He rolls his eyes teasingly.

I shimmy into my jeans by the front door while carefully keeping my towel tucked around my torso. Jughead walks over to the kitchen and takes his coffee mug from the Keurig and watches me flutter around the room picking up my discarded clothing. I turn away from his peering gaze and put my bra and tank top on, then turn around to see him. I quickly saunter back to the front door and start pulling my black ankle boots back on.

"Jughead it was so nice running into you, but I-"

"Let's get breakfast."

I immediately snap up from bending over to squeeze my shoes to see him leaning against his island counter in the kitchen.

"Don't look so surprised, Cooper," he takes a sup of coffee, "you didn't think I was the type to fuck and forget, did you?"

"No, of course not, I just thought you would be busy or something today."

"Busy? On a Saturday morning?" he laughs to himself, "My only plan today is to take you out. On a real date. Something I should have done back in high school."

"How do you know I'm not doing anything this morning?"

"I don't, I was just hoping you wouldn't and based on how defensive you are, you don't."

I try to hold my ground, but I shrug my shoulder and place my hands on my hips in surrender.

"Fine." I smile, "We'll get breakfast."

After Jughead finishes his coffee, he lends me an old leather jacket and mutters something about lake effect in the mornings, but I think he just wants to see me in his old Serpents leather.

"Shall we?" he extends his hand.

I take it gently and smile at him, acknowledging the softness and warmth of his fingers. He leads me out the doorway and only breaks our touching to shuffle around his pockets for his keys to lock up before descending the stairs.

"Have you tried The Chicago Diner?"

"Can't say that I have because I'm usually not out this way, but I've heard great things."

"Oh, you have to try it. It's a vegan place, but you'll never have a better dairy-free milkshake."

We probably walk five blocks until we reach the little chrome diner sitting comfortably among the towering sky scrapers and busy city streets. He holds the door open for me and I step into the restaurant and feel transported to the 50s with the black and white tile flooring and red vinyl booths and bar stools. It brings me right back to Pop's from high school.

"Wow, this is-"

"Right out of Riverdale, right?" he scans the place for a familiar face.

"Jughead!" An older woman with cherry red lipstick exclaims, "I've got your usual booth open in the back."

"Thanks, Charlene," he waves to her before leading me to the back of the restaurant.

I follow him to a window booth and slide in. A portrait of a young Johnny Cash hangs on the wall along with an old acoustic guitar and printed song lyrics. Jughead is studying me with his arms crossed on the table.

"What?" I ask self-consciously.

"You just fit in really well here."

I look down to smile then return my gaze to his deep green eyes. "I could say the same about you."

"I thought I'd try out my inner Danny Zucco," he runs his hand through his dark hair.

"So, what's good here?"

"Best cinnamon rolls this side of the city, without a doubt."

Charlene comes back and rests a sun spot hand on his shoulder, "The usual?"

"Yeah, country biscuits and gravy." He says confidently.

"I'll try the cinnamon roll, and can I get a side of hash browns?"

"Sure thing, sweetheart. I'll get two waters and some coffee over here stat."

"Sounds great, thanks Charlene."

Charlene scamper off the kitchen window and places our written order on the ticket carousel to get our food started. Very old school.

"So, Betty Cooper, what do I not know about you that I didn't discover last night?"

I immediately blush and start playing with strands of hair from my ponytail.

Jughead laughs and leans back in the booth, "No, I mean from what we talked about at O'Reily's."

"Oh!" my cheeks are still hot, "Well, nothing much really. I went to school for journalism and English after Riverdale High then wound up here to work with some publishing company that ultimately fell through. I don't think I'm going to stay much longer, though?"

"What? Like stay in the city?"

"Yeah, Chicago hasn't exactly worked out for me."

He falls silent for a minute and I can almost see the words flowing through his head on what he wants to say. What does he want to say?

"I think you should give it another try."

"I feel like that's what I've been doing for two years."

"You said last night you've been waitressing, right? Why don't you try working at a book shop and making some connections?"

"I don't know if I can be around books quite yet. My novel was rejected…again."

"Didn't J.K. Rowling get rejected like-"

"A hundred times before Harry Potter was finally published? Yeah, but I'm not the next J.K. Rowling."

"Or Agatha Christie." He says, remembering my novel is a murder mystery.

"Exactly."

"The world doesn't need another Agatha Christie. It needs Betty Cooper."

Just then, our food is placed in front of us and everything we were talking about seems unimportant because all I want is that giant cinnamon bun.

"Wow, that looks amazing," I exclaim.

Jughead doesn't stop looking at me and I can feel his gaze running over me just like last night.

"Yeah, it really does."