Thank you so much for the reviews and comments!

Will Polly be in this story? YES. Polly's fate has changed, due to the delay in justice and investigation. We'll find out what's happened to her in chapter 5 and onwards.

Archie has reunited with Jughead. It's Betty's turn. How will she react? How will Chuck react? Let's find out.

Song: So Much For The Afterglow - Everclear (this one is one of the first I added to my writing playlist, because it perfectly sums up Jughead's feelings returning home to Betty)
Disclaimer: I have been informed that I do not own these characters or the world of Riverdale. Dialogue from the show borrowed for context, no infringement intended. I disclaim.

Three: So Much for the Afterglow

"This is a song about the girl next door
This is a song about the everyday occurrences that make you feel like letting go
Yes I think we've got a problem
So much for the afterglow...
I remember we could talk about anything
I remember when we used to want to hang out"
So Much For The Afterglow - Everclear

Monday, Monday. Can't trust that day. Can't trust much of anything in Riverdale, these days.

I have to wonder, as I prepare for my first day back at Riverdale High, whether I should have ever trusted in this town. Maybe the cookie-cutter homes and perfectly polished people have always been illusory. Maybe we've always been a town of secrets and lies. Like the biochemistry that floated Jason Blossom's corpse to the surface, so has his murder revealed the things we wanted not to see.

But we can cling to our nostalgia, find moments of that American Dream we're fed from the teat of this country. We can eat our burgers and drink milkshakes with the hardest working man in town. I can gaze out my bedroom window at the Twilight Drive-In sign my dad stole from the site during demolition. Or, we can tie our hair up in perfect ponytails and slap on a skirt and sweater ripped from an episode of Mad Men, like Betty Cooper.

She's up early for the first day of classes, to the surprise of no one. My slumbering giant of a friend has only just managed to stagger to the shower, and she is neatly packing fresh notebooks and pens into her backpack. And while insomnia has woken me up early enough to witness this annual ritual, I can't say I'm in a hurry to start my junior year.

She is as beautiful as I remember her. The sun reaches into her bedroom to graze her cheek, unable to resist touching her. I understand that struggle and envy its light for the privilege she grants it.

Jughead frowned, saving the document and shutting his laptop. This was throwing a serious wrench into his plan to surprise Betty on the walk to school. With Archie lagging behind and Betty on the verge of bolting out the door, there was no way their paths would casually intersect. What to do?

In the periphery, he spotted the cordless phone. Betty had been ignoring Archie for some time, but what about a call from the Andrews home? Would she wonder if someone was hurt and answer it? The Betty he'd known and trusted since kindergarten would never miss that call. Then again, he never expected her to give someone like Chuck a moment of her time.

"Worth a shot," he mumbled to himself as he dialed.

He stood in front of the window, watching her reaction. The first ring went unnoticed, but the second commanded attention. He watched her glance at her cell phone and frown. Damn, Archie, she is not happy with you, is she? A third ring, and she bit her lip. On the fourth, she answered.

"Hello?"

"Look out your window."

Her head snapped up immediately, the phone hitting her carpet with a soft thump. He watched her rush towards the window to open it, and mirrored her actions.

"Jughead?!" she called out.

"Betty Cooper. You are a welcome sight for these sore eyes." He gestured to the phone in his hand and she bent down, retrieving hers.

"How? When? Why?"

Jughead chuckled. "A true reporter's daughter."

"Goddamn it, Jughead Jones!" She stuck her tongue out at him to emphasize her annoyance.

"Fine. By bus, Saturday morning, because my dad promises he's sober and misses me. At least someone missed me around here," he couldn't stop himself from adding.

"I missed you, Juggie." The faint cracking of her voice assured him she was sincere.

"And yet, you starved me of your prose for, oh, six months? I was forced to read Cracked Up to Be another three times." He tried to keep his tone light, but the sting of her silence struck him in the chest anew.

"I know, I'm so sorry. Things have been—" She turned away from the window, glancing over her shoulder. "My mother is calling."

"Does she still wake you up before your alarm?"

"Yes!" Betty huffed angrily. "How long are you in town?"

"The proverbial cat has come back, Ms Cooper. He just couldn't stay away."

"Oh! Does that mean your folks are—"

"No." He cut her off quickly, before she got both of their hopes up. "Just me. Mom and JB are still in Toledo."

A sharp horn blast sounded from the street, startling him. Glancing down, he fought the urge to vomit. Chuck Clayton. Turning back to Betty, he noted her rigid posture.

"I have to go, Jug."

"Betty, wa—"

She had already hung up, to his dismay. A sad little wave and she was gone, rushing off to the waiting Lexus. Jughead tossed the phone down with a groan and stormed down the hall. If Archie was going to take half a year to get ready, he intended to have an enormous breakfast. He was going to need the fuel for today.

His first day back in Riverdale High quickly proved useful in establishing the key players in the murder mystery overshadowing the town.

It had taken all of five minutes for Veronica Lodge to stroll over in her pearls and posh purple dress to greet him. Reluctantly, he accepted her outstretched hand and tolerated her escorting Archie and him down the hall. It proved a wise decision: Veronica was chatty, and often scathingly honest, a trait Jughead admired.

"I'm sure you remember Cheryl Blossom," Veronica mused, gesturing down the hall. "Fiery hair to match her 'burn it to the ground' anger issues, with just enough curves that the boys keep her as the Queen Bee."

"Has she ever explained the reason she and Jason supposedly concocted the 'oops, the boat tipped' story?"

Veronica shook her head. "No, but as cruel as she can be, take it from this reformed rich bitch: she's mostly bark, and bites because she's been mistreated for years. Her grief over Jason feels real to me when we're hanging out alone. She has her reasons."

Veronica's commentary told Jughead just as much about Daughter Lodge as it did about the maple syrup heiress. While students generally veered away from Cheryl as they roamed the halls, Veronica insisted their fears were misguided. He was hardly about to count out Cheryl as a suspect, but he did buy Veronica's theory that growing up Blossom was anything but a walk in the park.

They ventured into the lounge, staking claim to the central sofa as Veronica continued to engage them in discussion. Jughead quickly noted how she leaned into Archie as he spoke, contrasted with her sarcastic jokes and patting of his arm. Maybe her party invites were less about Betty and more about a personal agenda…

"We should totally give Jughead a proper welcome home," Veronica announced, jarring him back into the present. "An elegant soiree? Or would you prefer something more casual, with a keg?"

"How about neither?"

Veronica opened her mouth to protest, but was waved off by Archie. "Trust me, Veronica. Jughead hates parties. Best you'll get is a dinner at Pop's."

"Well, I am partial to a good milkshake, Archiekins," Veronica purred. "I accept the terms of our Holden Caulfield."

On most any day, Jughead would have fired back one of a dozen barbs about Veronica's overdressed look, or perhaps her dire need for approval. On most any day, however, Betty Cooper didn't enter a room and stumble upon seeing him.

The conversation halted, Archie and Veronica exchanging cryptic looks. Painfully aware of the attention, Jughead rose to his feet, thrusting his hands into his jacket pockets to hide their trembling. Her skin flushed and he couldn't help but smirk. He'd imagined this moment in countless ways, played out dozens of scenarios. None of them came close to the reality. For this was his childhood friend, the secretly tough girl who would defend him to teachers and share her lunch if she suspected he was going hungry (again). This was the woman who encouraged his writing in the first place, eagerly sharing her favourite books to inspire him.

And, as he'd come to understand three years ago, in that crushing moment when Betty asked him whether Archie liked her, she was the only woman he'd ever wanted to be with.

Fighting to remain calm, he flashed a nervous smile. "Hey, Betts."

Her reverie shattered and, much to the surprise of everyone in the lounge, she rushed forward to embrace him. "Juggie," she murmured in his ear. "You're really back."

His arms folded around her, squeezing her tightly. "In the ghostly flesh."

They pulled apart, each studying the other for those slight differences: a new highlight in her honeyed hair; a new, tiny hole in his beloved beanie.

Betty laughed, shaking her head. "I never thought you'd come back here."

"That makes two of us."

And there was Archie, to their left, shoulders slumped. "Hey, Betty. Long time, no see."

Her body tensed, but her smile remained. "Hey, Archie. I'm so sorry. I've been super busy, trying to pad my file for college. How's Fred?"

"He's good. He's really good. Business has picked up, so he's not awake and worrying about bills." Archie grinned, gesturing to Veronica. "Hey, you're just in time. Ronnie has a great idea to celebrate Jughead being back."

"No, no she does not. You have an acceptable idea, but only if Betty comes with us," Jughead added impulsively.

Veronica was displeased, but conceded anyway. "Archie has suggested we four venture out for a dinner at Pop's. Milkshakes, gossip, perhaps a late-night adventure at a lovely nightclub that will ignore our ages?" The trio of grimaces in reply drove her hands up in exasperation. "Okay, fine! A movie?"

"Jughead loves movies," Betty blurted out.

Veronica beamed. "A-ha! I knew my party planning skills wouldn't fail me completely. You in, Betty?"

"Of course I am…."

Betty's voice trailed off, her eyes fixed on the south side of the lounge. Glancing over his shoulder, Jughead's fists balled at his sides. Chuck Clayton. An imposing figure in sports and, judging from the way Ethel Muggs bolted from the lounge, imposing in the hallways of Riverdale High.

"Betty, we said we'd meet at your locker five minutes ago."

Glancing at her watch, Betty frowned. "No, you said eight thirty."

"I'm pretty sure, since I'm the one who said it, that I told you eight twenty." He jerked his head towards Jughead as he reached her side. "This what's keeping you?"

"No, Chuck, I must have made a mistake. I'm sorry."

Betty is sorry about a lot of things, these days, Jughead noted, glaring at the intruder.

"You're always sorry, Betty. Lucky for you, I am quite forgiving." Throwing his arm around her shoulder, he steered her away from her friends. "Come on, we're going to be late."

"Betty! Call me," Veronica called out. Quietly, she added, "I'll sort out the party details, don't worry. There will be burgers and cinema, gentlemen."

"You see what I mean?" Archie muttered under his breath.

"Yeah, dude. I don't like it."

Veronica's displeasure manifested in a soft growl and angrily hoisting her backpack onto her shoulder. "I swear, that boy needs to be neutered."

Archie spat out the mouthful of Coke he'd just inhaled. "Ronnie!"

"What? Maybe that would tame him." Gesturing to the clock overhead, she frowned. "It's that time, much to my disappointment. Which of you fine young men would like to walk me to Calculus?"

"I will," Jughead blurted out quickly, simultaneously disappointing both of his companions.

Veronica recovered quickly, winking playfully. "See? You totally adore me already. Wait and see, Jughead Jones. We are going to be besties." She patted Archie's shoulder as they parted. "Don't you worry. I know how to share."

"Now I know what a plate of fries at Pop's feels like," Jughead quipped. "See you at lunch, Archie."

Veronica laced her arm through his as they walked to class. She was clearly one of those touchy-feely people Jughead found repulsive and mystifying all at once. He gritted his teeth and swallowed the urge to demand she let go. Journalist mode, he told himself. Engage the subject on their level.

"Hey, what did you mean just now with that neutering thing? Chuck's not cheating on Betty, is he?"

Veronica shook her head quickly. "Not that I know of, although I've certainly had a hunch that he might. No, I was thinking more of temperament." Rounding the corner to the west corridor, she cast a furtive glance at the students ahead. "Have you ever had a needy kitten for a pet?"

"Can't say poverty has ever granted my family the pleasure."

"Well, needy animals are clingy. Love me, love me. Nothing is enough for them. But the difference between puppies and kittens lies in their response to being ignored. A dog will pout, sigh and wait to be noticed again. A kitten will bite you in its efforts to demand more of your undivided attention."

"So you're comparing one of the stars of Riverdale football to a tiny ball of fur with flimsy teeth?"

Veronica rolled her eyes. "Think about it. Betty is a rescuer. Chuck is all 'look at me' and nips to her hand when she doesn't meet his impossible standards."

She's a rescuer, no question. She rescued Archie from flunking a grade. She rescued me from bullies on the playground. And now, she's rescuing needy Chuck.

"I'll arrange dinner with Betty by end of day. Sans Mr. Clayton."

Her hand reached for the classroom door, only to fall away slowly, a feather drifting on unseen air pockets. She studied Jughead for a moment, her head cocking to the side. His eyes narrowed, meeting her gaze head on.

"For what it's worth," she whispered, "I've always been more of a dog person, myself."

With a warm smile and a light tug on her pearls, Veronica slipped into her waiting classroom. Jughead—exposed and strangely pleased with what seemed to be an approval of some kind—clutched his backpack tightly as he lost himself in the crowded halls.

Betty was nowhere to be seen at lunch and Jughead's mood deflated as he realized Chuck Clayton was also conspicuously absent. Veronica, too, was nowhere to be found. It was a glimmer of hope that perhaps the two women had slipped away for a friendly catch-up.

Jughead stewed, picking at his fries while Archie discussed music with Valerie Brown. Her trademark Pussycat ears were tucked neatly on her head at the request of Josie McCoy. Something about branding that he couldn't give less of a damn about. In fact, the only useful thing to come of lunch was an off-hand remark by Valerie that added a new angle to a certain murder investigation.

"I can't believe Dilton Doiley actually took the scouts back to that camp site this year," Valerie mused as Doiley passed by. "After what happened with Jason?"

"Well, it's not like they saw the murder," Archie countered, popping a Dorito in his mouth.

"But the gunshot!"

Jughead snapped to attention. "Gunshot? The one Cheryl claimed she heard?"

Valerie shrugged. "The timing was right, and Doiley's camp was pretty close to Sweetwater River. He's the one who found Cheryl after the boat capsized."

"Supposedly capsized." Jughead tilted his head towards the bereaved sister. "That was an illusion, remember?"

"Right, but even still, her story seems like time is missing. Maybe she saw something that day. Maybe she's repressing it." Valerie toyed with a paper napkin on the table. "I mean, if I saw someone hurt a member of my family, it would mess me up."

Jughead had considered this theory before, during his initial research in Toledo. Cheryl absolutely knew more than she had told police. What she was concealing remained the mystery.

Doiley, on the other hand, had no strong ties to Jason. He was supposedly with his troop, within earshot of Cheryl's cries for help. That meant he must have heard the shot. Why hadn't he mentioned it in those initial weeks, when Jason was presumed drowned? Why had Jughead never come across a single mention of Doiley in the newspaper articles he'd combed through in the last two weeks? Glancing across the room, he spotted Dilton at a corner table, talking quietly with Midge Klump.

What are you hiding?

"Jug?"

He looked to his right, flashing an apologetic smile. "Sorry. Coming back is more disorienting that I expected."

Archie shrugged. "Don't worry about it. Valerie was wondering if we were coming to the Pussycats next show. They're playing an acoustic set at the coffee shop near The Register."

"When?"

"Next Thursday," Valerie replied. "We're a little nervous. Acoustic sets are new for us, but if this one gets a good turnout, the owner said we can play every week for a month."

Jughead mulled this briefly, before smiling. "Sure, count me in. We've already lost the Twilight. We can't let Riverdale be a wasteland of culture."

Truth be told, he'd never been a huge fan of the Pussycats. He was more of a classic rock guy. But Valerie was helping Archie with his music, which made her a friend in his books. Friends supported friends in times of need.

Besides, Josie is the daughter of the mayor. Getting in her good graces may prove useful someday.

"Awesome! I have to go meet Melody, but I'll see you soon?" This comment was blatantly directed at Archie.

"Tomorrow after school?"

Valerie's cheeks flushed pink. "Definitely. See you then!"

He studied Archie's face, assessing his expression, his gaze and the way he continued to pick at his fries as if Valerie hadn't been flirting with him for the entire lunch period. Exasperated, Jughead rocked back in his chair and groaned.

"Dude!"

Archie dropped a fry on his plate. "What?"

"You really don't have a clue about women, do you?"

Archie's stunned silence was answer enough. Is there a single fucking woman in this school who isn't trying to get with him?

"Let me break it down for you, as a keen observer of the human condition. Valerie is into you. Veronica is into you. Apparently, everybody but you knew Betty was interested for years. Man, how did you-know-who get your attention?"

"I'm not talking about that here, for obvious reasons," Archie muttered. A beat: "Valerie is just a friend."

"Not by choice," Jughead retorted, stealing a fry from Archie's plate.

"Anyway, for your information, I know about Veronica," Archie continued indignantly. "It's never gonna happen."

Jughead's brow furrowed. "But you're friends. She seems nice enough—nice especially for a Lodge. Hell, Betty likes her."

"Betty is why nothing can happen." Archie dragged his chair closer, his voice scarcely a whisper. "Last year, Cheryl announced she was throwing an after-party for Homecoming and expected all the Vixens to be there, Betty and Veronica included. Betty asked me to Homecoming."

Jughead's stomach rolled. "And you said yes."

"As a friend," Archie insisted. "And she asked me to go with her and Veronica. I didn't know, Jug. Or maybe I didn't want to. And it's not like I could take… Anyway, after the dance, she told me about how she felt, and like I told you, I couldn't give her that. She insisted we go to the party anyway—she didn't want Cheryl to kick her off the squad. I had to at least be there for her, right?"

Jughead nodded. "If she was determined to go, at least you wanted to support her in that viper's pit. But what does this have to do with Veronica?"

Archie rubbed his temples. "Cheryl made us play Seven Minutes in Heaven. Guess who magically ended up in the closet with me?"

Veronica. "Betty took it hard, didn't she?"

"Took her days to forgive Veronica. I'm not sure if she even has forgiven me completely." The warning bell pealed through the cafeteria and Archie reached for his bag. "Anyway, I won't hurt her more than I have. I don't care if she's dating Chuck now. I won't betray her like that again."

Jughead patted his friend's shoulder. "Betty doesn't hold grudges. She knows Cheryl. But you're right: dating Veronica would re-open wounds."

The two walked to their next class in silence, each thinking of impossible relationships.

The Blue and Gold office. Or, what was once The Blue and Gold office. Defunct since 2014, it was known more as a place to steal a kiss (or more) before and after school.

Jughead hesitated outside the door, scrutinizing his strategy anew. Betty hadn't asked him to write for the paper. She hadn't asked him much of anything, so far. But Veronica's unexpected text—his phone number handed over far too readily by Archie to the demanding heiress—announcing that Betty was heading there to clean out the cobwebs had given him hope.

Or maybe Veronica is making us puppets dance for her amusement, Jughead mused bitterly.

He peered in through the small rectangular window in the door. Betty was there, as promised, and Jughead immediately grinned. Her ponytail swung as she tugged covers off equipment, unleashing dusty clouds that reflected the sun and lent a halo to her angelic smile. She was excited about this venture of hers.

Thanks to Archie, he knew Chuck had practice for the next ninety minutes. That meant he could properly reconnect with Betty, perhaps begin to untangle the web of weird behaviour and unending apologies. But first, he'd have to stop being a coward.

Pushing open the door to the office, he coughed as a poof of dust hit his tongue. "Hey, Lois Lane. Jimmy Olsen singing the blues, yet?"

"Juggie!" Betty beamed, tossing aside a dropcloth. "I'm so glad you came! You got Veronica's message?"

So, Betty had initiated that? Jughead fought to maintain a cool exterior. "I did. What am I doing here, besides witnessing the mass eviction of a dust mite colony?"

"The Blue and Gold isn't dead, Juggie. It's dormant." Her finger trailed along a computer monitor, her eyes widening at the accumulation of dirt on her skin. "I've fought for months to fix that, and I've finally won."

"I'm surprised they even fought you on it, given your Cooper pedigree." Jughead mused aloud, approaching a nearby desk.

"I know. But that's all in the past. It's waking up, like Riverdale needs to." She leaned back against the opposing desk, grinning.

Jughead spotted an unusual item in a mug full of pens: a magnifying glass. Amused, he plucked it from its home and waved it around. "Riverdale definitely isn't Kansas, anymore. We're far over the rainbow."

Betty chuckled. "I knew you'd get it. And, if I know you and your love of true crime, there's no way you aren't fully immersed in the unsolved murder of our former classmate, Jason Blossom."

Holding the magnifying glass to his eye, Jughead smirked. "I might be writing a novel about it. Riverdale's very own In Cold Blood."

"Which started out as a series of articles." Betty's piercing eyes met his, mesmerizing him. "I'm… hoping you'll come write for The Blue and Gold."

There it was: the offer Archie had predicted. The way to regain their friendship, investigate the Blossom killing, and perhaps find out what was behind her distant behaviour with Archie, Kevin and Veronica. And yet, old fears seized him by the jugular. He was a weirdo, an outcast. People had openly mocked him in this town for writing until the wee hours at Pop's. Maybe Betty, knowing his passion for writing, was taking pity on him in some gesture of apology.

"I just don't think the school paper's the right fit for my voice," he deflected, rocking back and forth on his feet.

Betty slowly crossed the room towards him, shaking her head. "Juggie, Jason's death changed Riverdale. People don't want to admit that, but it's true. We all feel it. Nothing this bad was ever supposed to happen here, but it did. I want to know why."

He swallowed hard as she drew within two feet of him, that familiar strawberry-vanilla perfume of hers too intoxicating to ignore. This? This was his Betty: the writer, the woman passionate about truth and justice. That twinkle in her eye that had been notably absent this morning was back.

"Would I get complete freedom?"

Say no and give me an out, Betty. I don't want to let you down. I don't want to ruin this dream for you.

"I'll help, and edit, and suggest, but it's your story. It's your voice." Her voice was pleading now, sensing he was wavering.

Time alone with Betty, working on writing projects. It would be like before, when things were simpler and unrequited love was buried deep within their respective hearts. Jesus, Jughead, who are you kidding?

"Doesn't sound like complete freedom, but…" He hesitated intentionally, enjoying her anxious anticipation. "I'm in."

"Okay, great!" Betty clasped her hands together and grinned, her feet shuffling in her trademark 'happy dance' that he jokingly called her Snoopy Shuffle. "In that case, I have your first assignment."

"Betty, I literally just got back to town," he teased. "You won't even cut me some slack for a day?"

"Like you ever slack off," she fired back playfully.

"Touché, Lois. What's on the agenda?"

"There's one person who was at the river on July fourth that no one's talking about."

"Dilton Doiley."

"Exactly." She touched his arm lightly and grinned. "I knew you'd be up to speed. As if you never left…"

"Only, I did leave." And there was the majestic elephant, trotting around the room. "At least I had your letters and calls to keep me grounded in Toledo. For a while, anyway."

Her porcelain visage cracked, revealing a pained woman within. Wrapping her arms tightly around herself, she turned away, pacing to the window.

"I know. I could… I could give you excuses, but none of them would be good enough."

He edged forward, placing the magnifying glass on the desk beside him. "Try the truth, then. You and I have always been honest with each other, Betts."

"What if I don't know the truth myself?"

In that moment, Jughead knew three things: he'd already forgiven her for her silence; Betty was afraid of something; and that he would do anything to help her feel safe and secure again. Betty was a creature of knowledge. Knowing was in her DNA. For her to question herself, question her truth… it was heartbreaking.

"Then, I guess we have two mysteries to solve," he replied at last, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Her posture visibly relaxed at his touch. "I'm so glad you're home, Juggie. Do you believe me?"

"I always believe you. Honesty, remember? That's us."

Betty turned to face him, brushing away a single tear. "Yes, honesty. Thank you for reminding me."

Now it was his turn to look away, unnerved by her words. "So, you need another set of hands to get this place in order?"

"No, you can head home. I'm sure FP is waiting for you, being that it's your first day back. I won't stay much longer today."

Jughead shrugged. "He's working with Fred. He won't mind."

"You sure?"

Picking up a nearby feather duster, Jughead smirked. "Like you didn't secretly hope I'd offer when I saw the state of the place."

Betty laughed, reaching for a nearby broom. "There's nothing wrong with optimism, Jughead Jones."

No, there wasn't. How else could he explain the airy feeling in his chest as they tackled the grime and grit caking the office? He might not fully understand Betty's recent behaviour, but he knew that the friend he'd known since she threw a book at a bully in his defense was still inside her. With persistence and patience, he'd find a way to reach her.

They would find the truth together.