Without even realising, Betty finds her and Jughead in somewhat of a routine.
They still work in the Blue and Gold first thing in the morning and after school. On top of that, more often than not, they meet in Pop's for dinner to continue working. After that first night, they just kept coming back. Betty never tires of seeing him, even if it is just to discuss work.
But a part of her is still restless.
Although she loves how much time they spend together – almost every waking minute, according to Veronica – she still feels like Jughead barely even sees her as a friend, never mind a girlfriend. Although he's incredibly sweet, and already way more thoughtful than Archie has ever been, she's still left feeling frustrated and a little disappointed. She wants to go on real dates with Jug where they share milkshakes at Pop's and make out in the back row of the tiny cinema they have in Riverdale. She'd wear a pretty dress and he'd walk her home afterwards.
But, instead, she was resigned to friendly, sometimes professional, dinners at Pop's
It's this thought that leads her to say yes when Trev, a shy, but cute, boy from the football team asks her out. He smiles so wide when she agrees, looking relieved, like it's taken him all of his nerve to even ask her. She feels momentarily guilty; she knows she's just using him to distract her from her feelings for Jughead. She justifies it by telling herself that maybe she'll have a good time, maybe she'll like Trev back.
It's a lie. But Betty's gotten good at lying to herself.
Throughout the day, she swithers on whether to tell Jughead about her upcoming date or not. And if she does, how will she do it casually? She doesn't want to come off as bragging, or trying to making him jealous. (An impossible feat, considering that would require actual feelings on his part).
But then another part of her, the rational part, calls her an idiot for even thinking about telling him. Is she a masochist? All she's going to gain from telling him is hurt feelings when he reacts with complete indifference. Their relationship is strictly platonic. Betty doubts he'd care if, or who, she was dating.
Then again, it occurs to her that he might even be angry. Trev is on the football team, after all, and Jug loathes them all. Even though Trev technically hasn't ever bullied Jughead, he's definitely been a bystander during many… interactions, between Reggie and Jug, neither joining in nor doing anything to stop it. In Jughead's eyes, he's just as bad.
And Betty can't risk losing their friendship. Although she may want more from him, she knows she has to settle for what Jughead is prepared to give her. And his friendship means a lot to her. She can't risk losing it, losing him. Lately, their daily lives and routines are so closely intertwined, it would surely feel like losing a part of herself.
No, she won't tell him. What he doesn't know can't hurt him.
Of course, this plan royally backfires when Trev appears in the Blue and Gold the next morning.
Betty and Jughead are both perched on a desk, going through the comment box that the principle insists they leave lying out. As usual, very little of them are serious feedback. Mostly lewd comments written by the football team for a laugh.
Jughead sighs, unfolding yet another fake comment and muttering something about "dumb football players" and illiteracy.
The sound of Trev entering makes them both snap their heads up. Betty realises how close they are, and wonders if Trev thinks there's something going on. If he does, he doesn't show it. Then again, it's not exactly a secret that Jughead shows no interest in any female in school whatsoever.
"Hey, Betty."
He looks shy and nervous, and she wishes he were Jughead. And then she thinks what a horrible person she is. Trev is, for all intents and purposes, a nice guy. She shouldn't be leading him on like this.
"Hey, Trev," she smiles back nervously.
Please, please, don't bring up the date.
"I was just checking we're still on for our date tonight?"
Part of her wants to say no and end things right here. She knows she's not interested in him, never will be. She's so wrapped up in the total enigma that is Jughead Jones. Betty can't help but wonder, for the millionth time, why she always likes guys she'll never have a chance with.
One look at Trev's hopeful face, and she knows she can't do it. She can't reject him.
"Sure," she smiles, trying to hide the fact she's cringing the whole time.
She can feel Jughead staring at her, but refuses to look at him until Trev has left the office, waving over his shoulder one final time before closing the door behind him.
"You're going on a date with Trevor?"
Although she's expecting it, she winces a little at the hiss to his voice.
"It's not really a date… More like a casual get together."
"He called it a date."
"Well…"
Betty trails off, not really sure how to defend herself. But he's looking at her, a hard glint to his eye, and she knows he's angry. She's panicking, unsure how she'll be able to fix this. She can't lose her best friend over a guy.
"It's not a date when we go for dinner, is it?" She blinks up at him innocently. "So I guess it's like that. Just dinner."
"That's different. We're friends. We work together."
Betty feels herself deflate. This is what she knew would happen. He'd somehow say or do something to show her how little he felt about her. To him, they were colleagues. Nothing more.
"Right. Strictly professional."
It's supposed to sound cheerful, but it comes out sounding sad.
"Betty, that's not what I meant…" He sighs, trailing off.
Betty turns to look at him, feeling hopeful. What did he mean? Was this it? Was he finally going to announce he secretly lusted after her?
"We're friends, too, obviously."
Right.
Just friends.
"Look, Jug, it's nothing."
She's annoyed now. If he doesn't like her then why the hell does he care who she dates? She shouldn't have to explain herself to him.
"I don't even like him. I like someone else… He just- He asked and he looked so nervous… I couldn't say no."
Jughead doesn't say anything for a while. His face is once again blank, impossible to tell what he's thinking. She holds her breath, anxious to know if he's angry or not.
"You're too kind for your own good, Betty Cooper," he says finally, neither smiling nor frowning.
"I know, I know. I feel terrible leading him on like this."
"Who is this other gentleman that you like?"
Betty feels her cheeks redden at his question, knowing this would be a perfect time to tell him how she feels.
But she can't tell him… Not yet. Maybe one day.
"None of your business."
It's supposed to sound sassy and cool, instead she sounds squeaky and nervous.
Jughead smirks deviously. "I'll find out one way or another."
Betty gulps, praying he doesn't make good on his promise.
She arrives at Pop's at seven o'clock sharp. Trev had offered to pick her up, but she'd insisted on walking. If she was being honest, she was just trying to avoid spending unnecessary amounts of time with him.
She had, however, still made an effort to look pretty. She'd worn her hair down, with some light make up and a pretty floral skirt. It was a nice night, only a slight breeze ruffled her hair as she strolled along to the local diner. Her cardigan was more than enough to keep her warm.
Trev isn't there when she arrives, but she's used to being the first to arrive. Betty Cooper is anal about timekeeping and always arrives either early or exactly on time. She's noticed, through years of strict timekeeping, that most people are late to everything.
Her heart stops as she notices a familiar grey beanie and braces.
Trev wasn't here, but Jughead was.
She groans internally as he looks up and catches her eye, sending her a mischievous smirk. He's done this on purpose, probably to spy on their date. How is she supposed to pay Trev any attention when the subject of all her dreaming and fantasising is sitting two booths down?
A few minutes later, Trevor slides into the seat across from her. Betty's been so caught up in agonising over Jughead's presence that it takes her a moment to notice him.
"Hey, Betty."
She smiles nervously. "Hi, Trevor."
He quickly catches the waitress's eye and orders them both milkshakes.
"You want anything else?"
Betty's stomach twists nervously. The thought of eating anything makes her feel physically sick.
"Nothing for me, thanks."
Trev nods and orders himself a plate of fries.
"I'll share them with you, if you get hungry."
Betty smiles politely but inside she's dying. This is exactly the kind of date she's dreamed about… Just with the wrong guy.
She can see Jug if she cranes her neck a little. He's typing away furiously on his laptop, clearly engrossed in his work. Betty wonders if it's an article for the Blue and Gold or something else.
Almost as if he senses her stare, Jughead looks up and directly at her.
The two are both surprised to see the other looking, but make no move to tear their eyes away. Jughead smirks, and if Betty didn't know any better, she'd think Jug knew exactly what she was thinking. His cheeky smirk seemed to say, 'I know you wish it was me with you.' It's unnerving, and it causes her to look away.
Trevor is oblivious to Betty's distraction, chatting away happily about football. He obviously doesn't realise that Betty couldn't care less. She forces herself to respond, but it's wooden and awkward and she thinks about how Jughead never runs out of things to talk about with her. Then she mentally kicks herself because Trevor looks nervous, and he's clearly dressed up for this date, and here she is thinking about her co-worker.
Her saving grace comes in the form of Veronica and Archie. They stroll into the diner, both doing a double take when they spot Betty and Trevor together, then looking slightly guilty.
But Betty is already waving them over.
"Vee! Come sit with us!"
Veronica lights up at Betty's eagerness, tugging Archie over to their table and sliding in next to her. Archie does the same on the opposite side of the table, but not before calling Jughead over.
Her stomach flutters as she sees him approaching, and she can't help but smile at him.
He grins back before jumping over the seat, landing next to Betty.
"How's the date?" He whispers into her ear, not paying attention to Trevor and Archie's discussion about football.
She tries not to shiver at his breath on her neck, and fails miserably.
"Boring," she sighs, stirring her half-finished milkshake.
Jug's hand appears infront of her, and for one beautiful moment she thinks he's going to take her hand.
He steals her milkshake and gulps it down greedily. She sighs and rolls her eyes in amusement.
"So, Jughead, how is your newfound journalism career going?" Veronica questions him.
He pauses to order a plate of fries before answering.
"It's not exactly hard-hitting news, but it passes the time."
"I'll say. I never see Betty, she's always with you."
"You see me at cheerleading practice," Betty protests lightly.
"That's hardly an opportunity to catch up with Cheryl the dictator around. Besides, you don't even go to that anymore," she whines, gesturing to Betty's injured wrist.
Betty frowns, glancing at her sore wrist. It hardly bothers her, as long as she remembers to take the painkillers the doctor gave her, and she sometimes forgets all about it.
"What can I say, Veronica? We're just so committed to the Blue and Gold."
Jug's tone is mocking, but Betty knows that he takes his job seriously. It's one of the many reasons she's so attracted to him.
She steals a few fries from Jug's plate, popping them in her mouth as she continues to listen to the conversation. Jughead pretends to look annoyed, but she often steals his food, and she knows he never minds.
"Yeah, right." Veronica snorts, taking a sip of her coffee. "More like you two can't bear spending time away from each other. Sexual tension, much?"
Betty's eyes double in size at Veronica's insinuation. She dreads to think how Jug will react, and risks a glance in his direction.
He's laughing and shaking his head, as if that's the most ridiculous thing anyone has ever said. As if it couldn't possibly be true. Betty feels her stomach sink once more.
"I should get home," she announces suddenly.
It's unfair to Trevor, he barely even got to spend any time with her and now she's leaving, but she can't bear to be here any longer. She can't be nice, selfless Betty Cooper and make herself stay for Trevor's sake. Tonight, she's just a heartbroken teenage girl.
She slides past Veronica, saying her goodbyes, then speed walks out of Pop's and heads for home.
She'd normally tell herself that it's time to get over Jughead; move on and accept he doesn't like her anymore. She'd tell herself that it's fine, she'll find somebody else, somebody who deserves her.
But she can't even be bothered to lie to herself tonight.
Tonight, she'll let herself hurt.