chapter four
never very far away
The red string of fate.
An old Chinese myth that tells of how the Gods would tie a red string from two souls that were destined to meet one another - often considered soulmates. It is said that the two people connected by the red thread are destined lovers, regardless of place, time, or circumstances. This magical cord may stretch or tangle, but never break.
Maybe that is why some people never leave each other's lives - not really. When we meet our red-string soulmate, our lives are forever interwoven, no matter how many ways we try to cut the tether. The choice was never ours to begin with. It was decided by something much greater than ourselves.
If we are meant to be with someone, it will happen no matter what. When it comes to our own fates, we are powerless.
"Well, look what the cat dragged in," FP teased from behind the glass window. In the past, Jughead had been allowed to see his dad in an actual meeting room - today, for no real known reason, he had to opt for the visiting booth. Ever since FP had been arraigned and denied bail, jailhouse visits were a little more formal than before.
A trademark Jones smirk rested far too easily on FP's lips, "It's good to see you."
Jug took in the sight of his father, dressed in orange, his hands cuffed as he clumsily held the phone to his ear. It made his heart heavy to see him like this, all broken down and tired. FP sized up Jughead, as well, giving him approving nod, "and looking slick, I might add. I'm surprised they let you in here wearing that thing…"
Jughead gave a half-shrug and emotionlessly replied, "it's just a jacket." Strangely, he couldn't even remember putting it on that morning. It was as if it had just become a part of him at this point. FP gave his son a knowing glare.
"It's a lot more than that and I think you know it." FP relaxed into his metal chair, "but I have to admit... it makes me weirdly proud to see you wearing it. Like you'll carry on the Jones name, after all." The implications of those words made Jughead's stomach swirl. "Who knows, though. Maybe that just makes me a bad dad..."
Words failed to come out when Jug opened his mouth to object. FP certainly hadn't been the best father over Jughead's lifetime. Not even a good one, very often. But he certainly had his moments - like taking the fall for Jason's murder to save his life. Thankfully, Jughead didn't have to respond, as FP continued, "cool shiner you got here, by the way. I sure hope you gave as good as you got..."
Jughead's fingers instinctively rose to his injured eye. It was purple and bruised, still swollen from the day before.
"You should see the other guy," Jughead joked lightly, waving him off with his hand. FP let out a quick burst of laughter as he pounded his fist on the tabletop.
"Atta boy. You're scrappy. Just like your ol' man." Jughead returned a partial, tired chuckle even though he didn't feel like laughing. He never knew how to feel about being compared to his dad, and he'd done it twice in the last thirty seconds.
"You admiring how dashing I look in my jumpsuit?" FP asked when Jughead hadn't responded for a moment. That same Jones smirk broke across Jug's face, this time.
"Orange is certainly your color," Jughead deadpanned. His face sobered as he asked him, "you.. doin' okay in there?" FP's smile faded, he shrugged.
"Been better, but not bad. I've been reading a lot. The library here is shit though. Maybe you could write me up something cool to read. You know, to pass the time. You're good at that stuff." Jughead wasn't sure why his heart swelled every time his father praised his writing - or praised him at all. He supposed he'd always want his love and approval. Typical daddy-issues.
"Ten minutes, inmates!" A guard yelled from somewhere unseen. Jughead had only caught the tail end of visiting hours, and now their time was limited. FP leaned in, down to business. He knew this wasn't a casual visit.
"Guess we gotta cut to the chase, kid. Why are you here? And on a school day, nonetheless..." Jughead went to answer but instead stared back sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Didn't think I'd notice, huh? We do still have calendars in here."
Jug squirmed in his chair slightly, unsure how to broach the subject of the Roaches in a way that wouldn't get his dad all fired up - he knew all too well how hot-tempered he could be. Unfortunately, it was a trait he, too, had inherited. But regardless, it still needed to be addressed. His dad had clearly gotten himself into some kind of ruse that went awry, and Jughead needed to know just what exactly he was dealing with.
"Uh… Listen, dad. It's about the Serpents," Jughead said lowly, hesitantly. FP licked his lips, his eyes darting from side to side and then over his shoulder to see if anyone was listening - they weren't. Still, Jughead knew he had to be careful about whatever he said next.
"What about the Serpents?"
"Seems like you made a few enemies…?" Jughead could see FP's thoughts register on his face. He lowered his head and dropped it into his hands. He was clearly trying to ward off the anger that was rising within him. He'd pieced it together almost instantly. He sat up and sucked in a breath.
"Did one of those Roaches do that to you?" FP whispered harshly, gesturing towards Jughead's eye. He clenched his teeth, shook his head, "I swear to God if they laid a hand on you-"
"Oh, please. You'll do what, exactly?" asked Jughead, his eyes narrowed and his tone flat. "From behind that glass? You'll do nothing." FP's jaw remained tensed, his breathing shallow as he continued to fight off the fury that had overtaken him. Jughead leaned in now, "I need to know what you did and how to fix it. O-or how I can pay them back-"
"Not your debt to pay-" he told him sternly.
"Well, they sure think it is."
"Then you tell them to come see me-"
"Dad!" Jughead nearly yelled, but calmed himself before he caused too much alarm with the officers. "You can't do anything from in here. They are after me if you can't pay them back and from what I can see, you're not getting out of here anytime soon. The only way you can help me is to be honest with me."
FP's reluctance was obvious. He roughly rubbed his hands down his face and he let out a frustrated groan, "I should have known they'd come after you, those lowlifes. What's Grinder doing about this, huh? The rest of the Serpents, they have your back?" Jughead gave his dad a weak nod.
"Well… yeah. Of course. But that's not enough." FP looked relieved, but the worry still shined in his eyes. Jughead could tell he was trying to think of a solution, and fast. He was always good at worming his way out of things, he just needed to stew on it.
"Just... stay out of the South Side for a little while. So I can make some calls, tie up some loose ends." Jughead pulled the phone away from his ear, frustratedly raking his fingers through his hair. He could still hear his dad's voice echoing through the headpiece. "You got somewhere you can hide out, just for a few days? Maybe with Andrews o-or your girlfriend. Betty?" Jughead scoffed and rolled his eyes so hard he thought they might roll right out of his head.
"I hardly think Fred needs to be harboring a runaway teenager while he's trying to recover from nearly dying, dad," Jughead spat sarcastically. Then, his shoulders slumped and his heart plummeted at the thought of Betty. He had been actively pushing out every thought of her since he broke up with her days ago - it was like it was all a bad dream. Her sad, soft eyes were haunting him.
"A-and Betty…" Jughead's voice hitched, his words trailing off. FP waited patiently for a response, but it only took a few seconds of seeing the agony on his son's face before he pieced that together, too. He shook his head disapprovingly.
"You broke her heart, didn't you?" Jughead's eyes shot to his father's face, his eyebrows pulling together - he wasn't sure how he knew that.
"How do you know she didn't break mine?"
"How do I know? Because I saw that girl. Saw the way she looked at you. She doesn't quit - she loves you. She's got the same fire as her mother. Only she's got a lot more integrity." Jughead wanted to ask him what that meant, especially after his strange conversation with Alice not too long ago. They spoke of one another as though they meant a great deal to each other at one point, but something happened to end it.
"And... I know you broke her heart because you're a Jones. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. We go into survival mode, cut people out who get close to us before they can disappoint us." Jughead hated that at times his father seemed like a complete stranger, and other times he seemed to know Jughead better than he knew himself. "We don't let good things happen to us-"
"Now you sound like Archie," Jughead mumbled, his forehead in his hand as he rubbed away the same looming, ever-returning headache that had been plaguing him for days.
"You're crazy to throw something good like that away. You know that, right?"
"So I've been told." Jughead sighed, sitting up straighter in his chair. He was beginning to realize he'd yet to get a straight answer from FP about the Roaches. "You're deflecting-"
"You're deflecting," FP shot back, never missing a beat. "Why'd you break up with Betty?"
Jughead groaned loudly, his face falling in his hands. He was so damn tired of explaining this to people. He began to count the reasons, "because we are different. It would never have worked between us. I don't have what it takes to make her happy right now, and I don't deserve her."
"Why would you even think that about yourself? You're the best person I know, and I'm not just saying that because I have a biological obligation, Jughead."
Jughead stared his father dead in the eyes as he bravely told him, "Maybe I think that way about myself because everyone who is supposed to love me never seems to stick around." He wasn't trying to hurt him, but damn it all if it wasn't the truth. He gave a halfhearted shrug, "I'm a mess. She deserves better than that. She deserves better than me."
FP leaned back slowly and Jughead almost regretted his words when he saw a hint of rare emotion in his father's eyes. He spoke low into the phone, his voice softer than Jughead had maybe ever heard it.
"Maybe you're right. Maybe she does deserve something better." Jughead felt a strange solace in the fact that someone finally seemed to get it. Then FP continued, "But she doesn't want something better. She wants you. And I don't think you understand just how important that is." Jughead tried so hard not to get choked up at his dad's words, but felt his chin quiver nonetheless. He missed her so much. "And… I think maybe you deserve someone like her, for once in your life, Jug."
Jughead felt the lump forming in his throat again, his eyes misting. He should have known better than to allow the conversation veer towards Betty, but it was seemingly impossible to avoid. Especially when the next thing he had to tell FP was so important.
"I need to know what to do to get the Roaches off my back," Jughead said, his voice shaking. FP remained silent, much to Jughead's irritation. He leaned forward again, hissing at him, "they threatened Betty, dad. That's the other reason I had to break it off with her. You have to help me because I would die if something happened to her."
"What do you mean they threatened Betty?"
"Please. Just tell me what to do, I don't know… what to do." Jughead's plea had become an outright beg by the end of his sentence. He was so tired, so emotionally bankrupt after everything.
"Time's up!" the same guard yelled, and everyone around Jughead and FP began to say their goodbyes. A large, uniformed officer showed up behind FP, resting his hand on his shoulder to tell him to wrap it up.
"Listen… try to lay low for a little while longer," FP told Jughead quickly. "I'll… I'll make some calls. Come back in a few days and I'll tell you everything. I promise."
"Dad-" Jughead tried to interject.
"Let's go, Jones." the guard said. FP hung up his phone, and Jughead watched as his father was led away, back to his cell.
"I still can't believe it. I am so sorry, Betty." Kevin offered his condolences from across the lunch table with an astonished headshake. He'd been out of town for a few days and had just returned to hear the mind-blowing news about Betty and Jughead. He cocked an eyebrow, playfully leaning on his elbows, "You know… Joaquin still knows some guys on the inside. I could give him a call. Do we need to have someone rough him up a bit? Knock that stupid beanie right off his head?"
Betty just gave him a weak smile - at least she thought she did. She wasn't sure any emotions had been manifesting on her face, lately. She said nothing as she absently pushed her food around on her tray. She had been reduced to a walking, talking cliche - she couldn't eat. Couldn't sleep. She felt like she had been existing in a fog since that night at the bowling alley, when down was up and the world no longer made sense.
She wasn't completely naïve. She knew that heartaches like this were just a part of growing up. She knew it was rare, her parents aside, to fall in love with your high school sweetheart and stay together forever. It always seems so promising, etched with ink on the back of a spiral notebook.
Betty + Jughead = true love 4 ever
But those logical facts in the back of her mind, that high school sweethearts were overrated and scarcely worked out, didn't make it hurt any less. Because why not? Why could two miserable people like her parents make it work, and yet she and Jughead couldn't?
"It was awful. Like watching a car wreck. It was like he was possessed, there was just no getting through to him-" she heard Veronica telling Kevin, but she was only half listening at this point. She didn't need to be reminded - she was still living it.
Her eyes kept fixating on the seat beside, the one that remained empty, as though her friends were afraid to fill it. The emptiness was harder to stomach. Betty ran her fingertips faintly against the scars on her palms; it had taken a steady effort on her part not to squeeze. She'd moved past the point of hurting - now, she was numb. That was even worse. It was like he'd never even existed in her life, just like he wanted.
And yet, somewhere deep inside of herself she held onto this bleak hope that he would change his mind about her.
About them.
But the sad truth was, the only person Jughead really needed to change his mind about was himself. It didn't matter how much she loved him or told him he was real and important… unless he believed it himself, she never stood a chance.
"-he was pretty messed up when I saw him. I've never seen him like that-" Betty tuned back in just in time to catch part of Archie's sentence, but he shut up almost immediately. Betty tilted her head to the side, her eyes narrowing at him.
"Wait. You… you talked to him?" she uttered, her first words she'd said in a small eternity. Archie looked mildly panicked, and Veronica shot him a glare for even mentioning it. Betty tucked some loose, flaxen hair behind her ear and cleared her throat before asking as evenly as possible, "What… did he say?"
"Not much," Archie said after a moment's hesitation. He gave Betty a sympathetic, albeit exhausted, roll of his shoulders, "Betty… I tried, believe me. I told him he would regret it for the rest of his life but… he's in a pretty dark place right now. I thought, you know, I could get through to him. That this was all going to blow over but-"
"He's... not coming back… is he?" Betty asked him slowly, almost in a daze. It was as if her heart was just now catching up to what she already knew and it felt like it fell to pieces in her chest all over again. How would she ever come to terms with this? How would she be able to let go of someone she'd shared her entire life with? Archie just stared back at her, a pained look in his eyes. He hated Jughead for making him have to be the one break Betty's heart all over again.
"I'm… I'm sorry, Betty," Archie said, barely above a whisper. Her eyes glossed over, but no tears would come. Her face was hot, her ears burning. Everyone was looking at her with sad, pitiful eyes.
She felt pathetic, then she felt angry. The last thing she wanted was their pity.
"We're here for you. No matter what." Kevin promised. Her eyes lazily found and rested on his face. His voice sounded far away as he asked her, "Is there anything we can do?"
"Well I, for one, suggest some good old-fashioned retail therapy," Veronica chirped, ever the optimist. "Spring is right around the corner and my wardrobe needs a facelift. What say you, B? Wanna hit the boutiques after school? Get your mind off of it?"
Instead of acknowledging her, Betty found herself staring intensely at Archie and Veronica's clasped hands on the table - their fingers intimately interlaced. They were so happy. So in love.
And right now, she hated them. She hated everyone. Anyone who was smiling or breathing or living just infuriated her… especially when she looked beside herself again at that damn empty chair.
The one he used to sit in.
Betty scooped up her tray, "I'm not hungry," she announced to no one in particular.
"Betty, wait-" Veronica started, but Betty just turned with her tray, tossing the contents in the trash can on her way out of the cafeteria. She clawed her fingers through her hair and squeezed as she frantically tried to silence the voices in her head, the ones that taunted her and kept reminding her over and over again: he wasn't coming back.
Because of this realization, Betty desperately wanted to feel close to him. The only way she could do that would be to go somewhere they had spent so much time together. Once she made it to the corridor, she looked down at her cellphone. It was agonizing that he hadn't reached out, and worse, that it was taking every bit of internal strength just to do what he asked: let him go.
She hastily rounded the corner on her trek towards the Blue & Gold headquarters, still looking at her phone when she slammed directly into Chuck Clayton. She fell back, almost onto the ground, but caught her balance on a locker before she crashed. Her phone wasn't so lucky. It fell to the ground with a loud crack.
"Whoa there, Turbo. Slow your roll," he said, but his friendly smile faded when he figured out just who he'd nearly run down. "Oh. You."
"Great," Betty hissed. This was literally the last person she needed to be around right now. The last time she'd seen Chuck, he was being dragged out of Archie's house by FP. She assumed he was no less salty now than he was that night.
Betty averted her eyes to the ground, diving down to fetch her cellphone, but Chuck beat her to it. He snatched it up and stepped in her way. She felt the blood flow to her cheeks and her heartbeat speed up.
"Give me that back, Chuck," she seethed. He studied her screen, a photo of her and Jughead staring back at him. It was homecoming. Betty was kissing Jughead on the cheek and he was just smiling, somewhat shyly. It was her favorite picture of them. Kevin had snapped it at the dance before they got word that FP was arrested. When things felt just a little simpler.
"Aw. Well, aren't you two just the sweetest," he mocked. She quickly grabbed the phone from his hand and tried to move past him without any more discussion. Again, he blocked her way. "Where are you off to in such a hurry? Got a hot date with your little gang-banger boyfriend?" She clenched her jaw so tightly she thought her teeth might shatter. Her fists balled, instantly reopening her old wounds she'd promised herself she'd heal from.
"Chuck," she warned.
He raised his eyebrows, gasping in feigned surprise, "oh wait. That's right. Jughead dumped you. He's not around to protect little miss Betty anymore, huh?"
"Move. Out. Of. My. Way." Betty's vision blurred, her mind involuntarily imagining a million different ways to put an end to Chuck Clayton. For good.
"Rumor has it, he split not too long after that message on your locker," Chuck mused, and Betty's hands unclenched. She could feel the air stinging her fresh cuts. Her breath was stolen from her when she could tell, just by the way Chuck said this, that he had something to do with the cryptic message on her locker… the one that had set Jughead into a tailspin. "You know, it's surprisingly not that hard to get pig's blood?"
"Get away from me!" Betty snapped, shoving him back at the chest with all the force she could muster. He just wobbled a bit and laughed at her attempt to intimidate him.
"Uh-oh. You're not goin' all psycho on me again, are you? Because I forgot my swim trunks." He leaned down closer to her face and she fought the urge to smack the smug smile off his lips. "You know… Maybe I'm mistaken. Maybe it wasn't the message on your locker that made him leave you. Maybe... your little boyfriend just figured out how crazy you actually are. So he got out of there while he still could." Betty could literally feel the light drain from her eyes, her whole body damn near shaking at this point.
"You have no idea how crazy I can be, Chuck. But if you're not careful, you might just find out." Chuck leaned down even closer, his eyes shimmering with mischief, as though he were letting her in on a secret. She could tell he was enjoying this.
Sadistic prick.
"Actually, yes, Betty. I have a pretty vivid recollection of just how insane you are." Betty pushed past him, stomping down the hall quickly to get as far away from Chuck as possible - one of them was going to get hurt, and with the adrenaline coursing through her, she wasn't so sure it wouldn't be him.
"How does it feel to have something you love snatched away from you, Betty Cooper?" Chuck yelled out after her - likening his stunted football career to her losing her first love. As if there was any comparison.
Instead of heading toward the Blue & Gold room, she found herself hurrying right out the school's front doors with no intention of going back today. Maybe never.
Before she knew it, she was running, nearly slipping in the remaining, melting snow a time or two, but sprinting as fast as her legs would take her. Her lungs burned, her body was weary, but still, she did not stop. She wanted to feel something - anything - other than the emptiness that had holed up in her chest for the last week. The rage was a nice change.
Betty made it to the park by her house before she collapsed to her knees into the wet snow. Her fingers dug into the freezing ground, but it was soothing to her aching palms as she tried to catch her breath. The slush was drenching her jeans and she feared she might never get up, just freeze into a tortured statue in the cold.
Maybe that wouldn't be the worst thing. Maybe she would thaw in the spring and all of this would be over.
She let herself sink further into the ground, falling over onto her back and staring up at the white, cloud-covered sky. Her chest heaved roughly, her throat was raw, her nose and cheeks were numb. She spread out like she was about to do a snow angel in the mud and snow, but instead looked at her phone in her hand once more. There was a crack right down the middle of the screen from dropping it earlier. It seemed cut right between the photo of her and Jughead, like some sign from the heavens that they were destined to part.
Then she remembered a line from Romeo and Juliet:
"Is it even so? Then I defy you, stars!
Thou knowest my lodging. Get me ink and paper,
And hire post horses. I will hence tonight."
She scrolled through her contacts before her thumbs hovered over his name. This was a true moment of weakness and she knew it... but she could not resist the urge anymore.
Before she could convince herself not to, she hit 'Call.'
It had barely rung when his voicemail picked up. His phone was clearly (and probably purposely) turned off.
"It's Jughead. You know what to do," was the only lead up before the beep. Betty considered hanging up; even just hearing his voice had somehow seemed to calm her all over. If she hung up now, he wouldn't even know she'd gone against his wishes and called him in the first place. But she couldn't bring herself to end the call.
"Um… hey," her voice broke. She cleared her throat, trying to sound stronger than she actually felt at that moment. "It's me. I… I know you said to let you go and I will but…" She swallowed down a sob, desperate to keep it from her voice. After she was confident she could continue without breaking down, she continued, "Nothing makes sense anymore. I miss you. And I hate this. And I hate you…"
She paused, taking in a sharp breath when her own words surprised her. Of course, she didn't hate him. Even after everything, she would gladly go through it all again just to know she'd gotten the chance to love and be loved by Jughead Jones.
"You know that's a lie. But I wish I hated you. Because hating you would feel better than loving you this much and not being with you-" She swallowed again roughly at lump in her throat, but she couldn't keep the tears from coming this time. They streamed down her cheeks easily, and it was oddly freeing.
"This hurts, Jug," she cried. "God, this hurts more than anything. I feel like I'm unraveling and I don't have anyone to tell that to… no one who understands like you would." Betty took in another shaky breath, wiping her wet cheeks and drying her hands on her jeans. She couldn't keep losing it like this. It surely wouldn't do her any good - it wouldn't bring him back.
"It's so weird knowing you're not going to be around. Everyone is just going on with their lives, but I feel like I'm standing still. I don't remember what it was like before you. Everyone sucks. Everything sucks. Maybe… maybe you were right to be so jaded, Jug."
Betty rolled over onto her stomach, kicking her feet up as though she were talking to a friend on the phone on her bed, like she was just having a casual conversation. For a moment, it even felt like he was going to talk back, but she knew better.
"Oh, and by the way? Chuck Clayton was the ringleader behind my locker vandalism, I hope you know. He not-so-subtly admitted that to me when he cornered and harassed me in the hallway today. Not that you care anymore-"
Once again, her own words hurt her. She could only assume that he didn't care. She had no idea if he even thought of her. Maybe it all meant nothing. Maybe she was just as naïve and delusional with Jughead as she had been with Archie.
How could she have been so wrong about something that had felt so right?
She held her hand up and inspected the crescent moon shaped divots on her palm. Her finger traced along the scars.
"Maybe I really am crazy, Juggie…" she uttered through a lost, mournful exhale.
She was a mess. And he deserved better than that.
He deserved better than her.
"I don't blame you for leaving me… and I promise I'll leave you alone, now."
It was dark by the time Betty made it home. She was pale and shivering, her lips blue from sitting out in the cold for so long. The warmth of the Cooper house hit her like a tidal wave when she walked in, instantly thawing her numb limbs.
She absently let her backpack fall to the ground. She did not even bother to pick it up as she stepped over it on her way to her room, where she planned to hide away forever.
"There you are," Alice said, coming out of the kitchen. She looked Betty up and down, her hands on her hips as she laid into her, "I have been calling and calling you, where have you been? You missed dinner and your school called, you've skipped class twice this week-?"
Betty rubbed her cold hands against her cheeks, closing her eyes and letting out a grunt, "mom. Can we please not do this now-"
"Elizabeth Cooper, you are not the one calling the shots here," Alice snapped back. But when she saw the pain in Betty's eyes, her frown lessened. She sighed, running the dishtowel in her hand through her fingers. "I know you're heartbroken, and I am so sorry about Jughead-"
"Please, mom," Betty wearily tried to object. She didn't want to talk about Jughead anymore, she didn't want to think about Jughead anymore. She just wanted a break from the pain and the hurt for one minute.
"I'm sure you don't want to hear this and you might not believe me but… it will pass, sweetie. Focus on school, you will bounce back. Heartaches like this rarely last forever." Alice made it seem so simple, a step-by-step guide to getting over it.
"And how would you know, mom? The only love you've ever had is dad. You've never had a heartbreak like this before…" Alice just stared back at Betty, a glazed look in her eyes. She gave her a small, tight-lipped smile.
"No. No, I suppose not."
Betty instantly felt guilty and she didn't even know why. But something in the way Alice said this made Betty feel like once again her mother was hiding something from her.
"Have you-?" Before Betty could ask anything more, the doorbell rang.
"Could you get that? I'm cleaning up," Alice said, turning to retreat back to the kitchen. "Oh, and I left a plate in the microwave in case you're hungry." Betty felt a small smile tug at the corner of her lips. They would call a truce for tonight, and that was all she could ask for. As terrifying and dominating as her mother could be at times, deep down Betty knew her mother always had her best interest at heart.
Betty heaved a sigh, definitely not in the mood for socializing. When she pulled open the door she was surprised to find Veronica standing on the other side, her arms weighed down heavily by at least a dozen shopping bags.
"Good evening, Miss Betty Cooper," she began with a small curtsey. She raised her arms up triumphantly. "I come bearing gifts."
Betty wanted to tell her that now wasn't really a good time, but Veronica saw herself in. She dropped her bags, turning to Betty as she began rubbing her hands together to warm them from the cold. Her nose was bright pink and Betty suspected she'd been out in the cold all afternoon shopping at the boutiques downtown. She straightened her deep purple beret on her head and began to peel off her heavy coat, one button at a time.
"Oooh, who went shopping?" Polly asked excitedly as she waddled into the foyer, cradling her ever-growing belly. She peeked into one particularly appealing bag.
"Moi, of course," Veronica replied, cheerfully. "I thought Betty's wardrobe could use a couple…" she reached up and pulled a twig from Betty's ponytail, "um… upgrades."
"Mom isn't gonna liiike that," Polly sang, a big smile stretching across her pearly pink lips. Her eyes glistened, "but I am a real sucker for a good makeover montage."
"Precisely," Veronica nodded.
"Um, thanks but no thanks," Betty declined. Veronica hummed quietly, looking Betty up and down and tapping her chin contemplatively. Betty's jeans were wet and stained with mud, so she wasn't exactly picture perfect at this moment. But there certainly wasn't anything wrong with the way she dressed on a regular basis.
"Oh, come on, Betty. A little change would be fun," Polly shrugged, continuing to rummage through Veronica's findings. She reached into the bag and pulled out a very small, very black piece of material. She held it up in front of herself, her eyes wide with wonder. Betty scrunched up her face - she wasn't even sure what it was, but it was definitely too small to be worn in the general public. She reached over, snagging it out of Polly's hand.
"Who was at the door, Bett-" Alice's sentence halted when she saw the three girls standing together among the mess of bags - Betty quickly hid the tiny garment behind her back. Alice folded her arms, her face turning to stone again when she noticed the Lodge daughter in her home. "Oh. Hello, Veronica. What are you doing here?"
"I'm here to cheer up Betty. I thought she could use some girl time. You know. With her best friend." Alice's eyes narrowed when she caught the condescending tone in Veronica's voice.
Alice stared between the three innocent faces before she decided to let it go for the night, "Very well. Be good, girls."
"We always are, Mrs. Cooper," Veronica chimed. Betty inwardly groaned, her one chance of getting out of this was shot as her mother went back to the kitchen again. She looked between Veronica's sinister smile and Polly's enthusiasm and knew she was outnumbered - 2 to 1.
"C'mon," she sighed, defeatedly trudging up the stairs to her room, the two girls excitedly trailing after her.
"You aren't going to regret this," Veronica promised. Betty snorted - the first laugh in what felt like forever.
"I already am." Betty closed the door behind her as Polly and Veronica started unearthing all of Veronica's shopping bags. Betty fell back on her bed as Veronica dumped the contents of her makeup bag onto the bed beside her. "I really don't want to do this, V…"
"Betty, you need this. Don't you want to feel better?"
"A makeover is not the thing that's going to make me feel better," Betty curled into a ball, half of her face hidden in her pillow.
Veronica sat in front of her, reaching around her to rub her back. She cocked her head to better see Betty's face, and, not to her surprise, her cheeks were puffy and her eyes were red. She looked like she hadn't slept well since it happened, though that was probably all she wanted to do.
"Listen…" Veronica started, "I wish I could say I know what you're going through; that I've been through my fair share of breakups and that within a few more days your life will start to feel normal again." She sighed dejectedly when her words only made a tear drip from Betty's eye and onto her pillow, "But I've never been in love before. So I'm not even going to pretend that any of my past flings is anywhere close to what you and Jughead have…"
Betty sniffed loudly, "Had. What we had, Veronica."
Veronica felt her lips quiver at the melancholy passion in Betty's voice. It broke her heart to see her best friend in so much pain - and not being able to do a single thing about it was tearing her up. She knew bringing over such superficial things as eye shadow and skirts was not going to make it better. But besides setting Jughead right in front of her, there was nothing else that she could do to make Betty happy.
Polly chimed in, sadly adding, "Betty… I know how you feel. When I found out that Jason-" she gave herself a moment when she became too emotional to continue. "I don't know what I would have done if I didn't have these babies. There is nothing like losing your first love. It's okay to not be okay."
Betty smiled sweetly at her sister; she suddenly felt horrible for crying over Jughead while Polly was still mourning Jason. Betty might never have Jughead in her life, but at least he was alive. Jason was gone from this world and Polly would be raising their children without a father.
Veronica moved her hand from Betty's back to her head. One of the things that her mom always did when she was feeling down was play with her hair. Veronica didn't really take notice until now, but Betty's hair was still pulled back in a perfect ponytail despite her life being in shambles.
"Girl, seriously...what is up with your ponytail?" Veronica tugged on it, "Doesn't it give you a constant headache? Even if I wear clips in my hair too long, I get headaches."
Betty rubbed her eyes roughly to try to dry her tears. She was so sick of crying.
"It just became normal from when I was little. My mom would always put it up just in case anyone wanted to snap a picture of us. 'Not a hair out of place,' she would say. 'Always picture perfect.'"
"It's true," Polly chuckled, already testing out some of Veronica's expensive make up in Betty's vanity mirror. "She did say that. Betty got ponytails, I got headbands. They would dig into my skull under my ears - but I got used to the headaches, eventually."
Veronica rolled her eyes, "Well, you're not nine anymore, Betty. And besides, you've worn your hair down before. It's not like you're a comic book character that needs to look the same in each volume."
Betty shrugged her shoulders, "Just became habit to put it up most days."
"Well, time to break old habits! How about a cut and dye?"
"Ha!" Polly snorted this time. "Good luck with that," she added dryly.
Betty glanced at Veronica, "My mom would kill all three of us if I dyed my hair."
"No, she'd spare me 'til I birthed her grandchildren. Then she'd kill me, too," Polly corrected.
"Uh, no!...you deserve a get out of jail free card when dealing with a broken heart. Even stone cold Mama Coop must understand that." Veronica swiped out a pair of scissors, seemingly from nowhere and Betty nearly squealed.
"What! You're not coming anywhere near me with those things-"
"Relax. I took cosmetology classes back in New York," Veronica insisted. Polly's eyes widened with fascination at the cool brunette once more.
"They offered that at your school?"
Veronica nodded, "Mmm-hmm. Chaz Dean even visited once. Of course, that was before all his Wen products started making everyone's hair fall out-"
"How glamorous…" Polly mused, stars in her eyes.
Betty wasn't so convinced, "Oh, well now I feel much better about this," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Veronica took her hand, leading her over and sitting her down at her vanity. "I really don't know how I feel about cutting my hair," Betty said as Veronica slipped the elastic hair tie from Betty's unnervingly tight ponytail. Her hair fell over her shoulder, a bit of a kinked mess while Veronica began to rake her fingers through the golden locks. She leaned down, looking at Betty right in the eyes through the mirror. Her fingertips softly grazed the ends of Betty's hair.
"Just a few light layers, nothing off the length… and then a lil' something to really give you some edge-"
"Oh! Blue highlights! No, wait... purple highlights!" Polly shouted. She giggled, clapping her hands together. "I'm sorry, I'm just so nervous and excited-"
"Highlights?" Betty moaned, her face falling. She looked terrified.
"Bangs," Veronica said simply, as though the choice were made. "A little bit of fringe in your eyes, give you a little bit of mystery. You're going to look amazing."
Betty wanted to say no, but then she caught her reflection. She was almost startled when she could see the pain in her own eyes that stared dully back at her- eyes that had lost their sparkle. Dark circles pooled beneath them, swollen from crying. She looked pale. Exhausted. Heartbroken. She'd never seen herself like this before and it scared the hell out of her. What would Jughead think if he knew she'd let all the white noise win? That she'd sunk so deep down into her despair that she'd stopped living, only existing?
"Okay," she said bravely.
"Yeah?!" Veronica grinned widely. Betty nodded.
"Sure. Why not? I could use the change." Veronica gleefully moved in toward Betty's hair, but Betty jerked away, "no blue highlights," she demanded.
"Awww…" Polly whined. Veronica began to wet Betty's hair with a spray bottle.
"You got it."
"...Maybe I really am crazy, Juggie. I don't blame you for leaving me… and I promise I'll leave you alone now."
Jughead knew better than to listen to it.
He told himself over and over again not to do it - that nothing good would come of it.
Yet there he was, crouched away from the rowdy, loudness of the bar with one hand clapped over his ear to drown out the noise, the other pressing the phone hard against his cheek.
Nothing prepared him for the way hearing the sweet, forlorn sound of her voice would make him feel.
Homesick. Longing. He wanted to punch something. He wanted to punish himself for being such a damaged person. He hated himself for making her cry. He wanted to go to her - to fix her. To pick up all those broken pieces of both of their hearts and piece back together again.
He knew he couldn't.
Jughead saved the voicemail because he didn't have any other way to hear her voice if he was feeling particularly weak - which might be often. He brushed away the tears that had collected in his eyes as he heard Sweet Pea calling for him across the way, over and over again. Relentlessly. There was never a silent moment in his life anymore. He just wanted peace.
"Juggg! Jughead!"
"In a minute," he snapped over his shoulder. He fidgeted with his phone, trying to decide if he wanted to try to listen to it one more time but watched as Sweet Pea grabbed his beer from the counter, walking over to Jughead instead. Jughead wiped his nose with his hand quickly, doing everything in his power to get it together before the rest of the guys noticed. He felt so pathetic.
Sweet Pea came up behind him and drunkenly hooked his arm over Jughead's shoulders.
"Wud are you doin' over here sulking?" He shoved his mug of beer into Jughead's chest and a little spilled down his shirt. Jughead was annoyed - being around drunk people always seemed to make him uneasy. He slinked out from Sweet Pea's arm to find some napkins to dry his shirt. Sweet Pea didn't let up, following Jughead to a nearby table.
"Were you talking to your giiiirlfriend?" Sweet Pea slurred, obnoxiously. Jughead pursed his lips and ignored him, even more annoyed when the napkin holder was empty and the beer was starting to seep through to his skin. Great. Smelling like beer was just icing on the cake.
Sweet Pea took another gulp of his beer, staggering a bit.
"I thought you dumped her-"
"Sweet Pea!" Jughead finally yelled, his frustrations reaching a raging boiling point. "Get the hell away from me!"
"Ah, relax, Jones. I'm just messin' with you," Sweet Pea said, nudging him. Jughead couldn't stop himself from shoving the Serpent out of his way, nearly knocking him to the ground. The mug of beer released from Sweet Pea's hand, crashing to the ground and shattering everywhere in a wet, glassy mess.
"Do I look like I'm in the mood to be messed with?" Jughead challenged, but before Sweet Pea could retaliate, Donnie was shouting at them from behind the bar.
"Outside! Both of you! You're cut off for the night!" Jughead knew better than to argue with Donnie and fine. He didn't want to be here anyway. Jughead headed for the door as fast as he could without running.
He had made it across the parking lot and almost to his truck when he heard Grinder call out to him.
"You got a problem tonight, Jughead?" Grinder said, storming out of the bar.
"He misses his girlfriend," Sweet Pea jeered from behind him.
"Shut up, Sweet Pea!" Jughead yelled, shoving him once more. The two began to tussle before Grinder stepped in, pushing them both off and away from each other.
"That's enough!" he said gruffly. "I ain't your daddy. I'm not babysittin' you, that's not how this works. You shake hands and be done with it or you're out!" Jughead and Sweet Pea stared each other down, stubbornly waiting for the other one to make the first move. Usually, he would have fought it, but Jughead just wanted to be done with it. He stuck his hand out for Sweet Pea to shake, and he took his hand reluctantly.
"Sweet Pea. Get outta here," Grinder ordered, and the kid did as he was asked. Jughead knew a lecture was coming and he did not have the patience to deal with it, so he quickly tried to get back over to his truck.
"You had to do what you had to do, Jug," Grinder said and it made Jughead freeze. He jingled his keys in his hand, nervously awaiting whatever Grinder had to say next. The big man neared him, patting him on the shoulder. "I know how much you loved the girl. Losin' someone like that is one of the hardest thing's you'll have to do."
Jughead let out the breath he'd been holding, letting his head fall back to look up at the sky as he leaned against his truck. The sky was filled with stars, just like the last night he'd spent with Betty. The moon shined brightly down on him, as if it were smiling a cheshire cat grin. He let himself wonder if she might be looking at that same moon at that very moment; it made him feel close to her, even though he wasn't. It temporarily soothed his heart's wounds to think about.
"What did I even lose her for?" Jughead uttered. His throat was hoarse. He didn't want to cry anymore, didn't want to feel this way anymore. The regret had moved into his heart and just wouldn't shake loose. He looked sideways at Grinder. "I don't even know what we're doing, anymore. I joined you guys because it was supposed to help me. But here we are. My dad is still behind bars. I still don't have a family. I still can't protect the people I love so what am I doing here, Grinder? Because I need something to hang on to."
"The Serpents will show up. When the time is right, when you really need them. They'll come through," Grinder replied vaguely. "There are things in the works you don't even know about. It'll all make sense, you'll see."
"I'll see what?" Jughead countered, pushing himself from off his truck. He began to pace, the anxiety creeping back up within him. "That I can't help my dad? That he still won't tell me anything important? That being with Betty can't keep her safe, but I can't keep her safe when I'm away from her, either?"
"Something happen with your girl and those Roaches?" Grinder asked, leering at Jughead through low eyebrows. Jughead started to respond hotly, but sighed instead. He rubbed his eyes. He was so damn tired.
"No, no. Not that. Just… it's this dumb, meat-head jock back at my old school. He and Betty have a bit of a history-"
"Ex-boyfriend?"
"No, God no. He's just this egotistical, misogynistic predator. Chuck Clayton. He kept this ledger of his conquests with the football team, and Betty got him and a couple guys suspended. It's a long story, but a few weeks ago someone vandalized her locker. They said 'go to hell serpent slut' in pig's blood. It was because of me, because Betty tried to defend me and my dad-" Jughead stopped himself when he realized he was rambling on and on. Obviously Grinder had more important things than to listen to Jughead whine about petty, high school bullshit.
"That Clayton kid was behind that?"
"I guess, I mean… I assume he was. I got a random voicemail from Betty today and she told me he admitted it to her. But that doesn't matter. He's never going to stop- none of it is ever going to stop. She's just going to keep getting it, from Roaches, from morons like Chuck Clayton… I don't know how to protect her."
Grinder gave Jughead a cocky grin, reaching into the pocket of his leather vest for his pack of cigarettes. Jughead watched him, awaiting some kind of response to everything he'd just unloaded, but Grinder took his time to light up. He took in a long drag, exhaling the smoke out into the cold, night air. It floated around in ropes, seeming to lasso around the moon.
"Well…" he chuckled, deeply. "I'm sure we can figure something out."
Betty saw Veronica out and told Polly goodnight before retreating back to her room. Various clothing articles and makeup items were strewn about, making her room look like it had just endured an earthquake. She huffed out an exhausted sigh, bending down to start collecting things up off the floor. She started to fill her arms when her eyes trailed to her window, where Jughead would sneak through.
The ladder was still there.
She hadn't had the nerve to take it down - she tried not to think about the fact that a part of her was probably hoping he'd climb up into her room, scoop her up off her feet and fix everything he had broke.
'Stop thinking like that,' she scolded herself. She took a moment to study her reflection in the mirror on the way to her closet. Her new reflection. Her bangs were swept to the side, the golden color of her hair bringing out the golden flecks in her green eyes. They changed her face, somehow. Made her feel older. More confident - at least more than she felt before. Her cheeks were gently rouged, her lips a shade of 'ravish me red.' She hated to admit that Veronica had been right, she was ready for the change - and she liked it. She felt fierce. Like she was ready to fight to take her life back.
She was going to thrive, even with her heart in pieces.
She had no other choice.
Betty tossed the couple things she'd picked up into a chair, deciding that was enough work for the night. She was exhausted from not sleeping since the break up, but her heart felt calm enough to let her try. After stipping down to her panties and a tank top, she turned off her bedside lamp and nestled under her covers, hoping to drift off into blissful, dreamless, sleep.
It felt like Betty had barely closed her eyes when she heard the familiar sound of the ladder rattling against the side of her house. She smiled softly to herself as she heard his heavy boots, trudging up the metal steps - clomp, clamp, clomp. The window slid open and she felt the chill from the night air.
10:45. Her nightly visitor had arrived… And right on time.
Her bed bowed beside her, crushing under Jughead's weight as he slid up beside her, like he usually did. But instead of his warm, comforting arms, she felt the slick, cold leather of his jacket wrap around her.
She cocked her eyebrow, turning slightly towards him over her shoulder, "really wearing that thing all the time now, huh Juggie?"
That leather Serpent's Jacket. Even just the thought of it made her stomach swirl.
She could hear his lips part, the smirk in his voice as he told her, "I'm poor, Betts. It's winter. And I have about three articles of clothing to my name." Regardless of his claim, she felt the bed jerk and heard the rustling sound of him tearing away the leather jacket. He returned, his long arms feeling a lot more familiar as they pulled her in, her back up snugly to his chest.
Betty shuddered and sighed, her eyes fluttering shut as she let herself fall into the vacant crevices of his body.
It felt like no time had passed at all and that both comforted and broke her, somehow.
"I miss not seeing you every day," Betty mumbled softly, mostly into her pillow.
"I'm always here," Jughead replied, his breath warm and welcome on the back of her neck. She groggily shook her head.
"Not like before."
He didn't respond to that - she wondered if he'd already drifted off to sleep, until he asked, "what was I thinking, leaving you?"
Betty's smile faded, her eyes opening slowly at his words. It was then that Betty realized… this was likely just a beautiful, deceitful dream.
To be sure, and feeling slightly insane, Betty rolled over to face him, her breath hitching when she actually saw him. She instinctively placed a hand on his cheek - it was soft and smooth. Just like always. He looked so real, his features delicately outlined by moonlight. She felt like it had been so long since she'd seen him, a small eternity. Time had been moving so fast and slow, lately. She never realized how badly she missed him until he was right there in front of her.
As she stared at him, taking in every line and curve of his face, her heart sank. She felt her eyes tearing. "You're not really here, are you?"
Jughead merely shook his head, slowly. His hand slinked softly down her arm, taking hers. He bought it up to his lips, pressing a kiss against her wrist. She felt it, his lips and hot breath against her skin - it felt real. Betty wanted to both sob and laugh at the same time, her eyes blurring with tears. She didn't really know what was real and what was fantasy anymore.
"Let's just pretend I am though. For a little while?" A tear fell down Betty's cheek, dampening her pillow. She nodded. If this was insanity, she never wanted it to end. She snuggled up closer to him, pressing her face into his chest and squeezing him tightly to her. He smelled exactly how she remembered. His hand came up and cradled the back of her head.
"I never wanted to hurt you, Betts. Never."
"I know," she cried. She just wanted to be able to look at him and not feel so hurt by him. "I miss you so much."
"I'm never very far away." She felt him rest his cheek on the top of her head, holding onto her even tighter. "While we're pretending… let's pretend that I'll still be here in the morning." Their faces were close, their breath circling one another. She felt a warmth grow within her, a longing.
Betty tilted her chin up and kissed Jughead hard on the mouth. She kissed him passionately, hungrily. A way she'd only experienced with him once before in the privacy of his trailer.
She took in every sense of him she could - the way his body felt under her fingertips, the way he tasted and smelled. Jughead kissed her back, pulling her closer, so close she thought they might melt into one another. Soon his lips broke from hers to find her neck, kissing and softly biting and the sensitive skin in a way that made her whole body ache for him. She wanted so badly for his to be real, tears stinging her eyes as she listened to the quiet, breathy sounds they made between them.
Betty felt his hand slowly but deliberately slide down the length of her thigh and between her legs, causing a sharp gasp to fall from her throat. Her fingernails dug into his skin for a change, trying to alleviate a different kind of pain within her as her hips rocked against him.
Please be real, her mind raced. Please.
Betty pawed at his shirt, trying to get him to take it off, to which he happily obliged. When he came back down her covered her like a security blanket, warming her and comforting her. His fingers interlaced with hers and he kissed her again: her lips, her neck, her jaw. The pressure of him right up against her, between her legs was, was unbearable.
"Jug," his name fell easily from her lips, it felt amazing to say it at all. "I love you."
Betty opened her eyes and he was gone. She was sweating, her breath short, her body empty as she looked around her room, blinking away the darkness.
She knew it was just a dream - so why did her heart feel like it was broken all over again?
Betty brought her knees up to her chest and sobbed.
Betty took the rest of the weekend to get her head on right after the incredibly vivid and misleading dream. She was desperate for things to start to feel normal again. Her heart still ached in her chest and she still missed Jughead more than ever, but she had to get on with her life, somehow. She couldn't keep living in this misery.
Come Monday morning, Betty couldn't make it from one class to the other without about a million gawking stares - she knew she looked different, but she hardly expected it would have this kind of a reaction from people. Even Cheryl complimented her, and it even seemed partially sincere.
No amount of makeup could take all the pain away, but at least she felt better about herself and that was all that mattered - not that she didn't like herself before. Betty wanted more than anything to stay true to who she was. But as she was figuring out, there was a darkness inside that she would have to learn to accept. Being the girl next door no longer fit her like a glove.
Veronica had bought a lot of clothes that would have fit perfectly into her own wardrobe, and there was a lot Betty was uncomfortable wearing. She improvised though, mixing and matching with her own closet, trying to balance out just enough sugar with her spice.
"Oh, em, effing, gee. You look unreal," Kevin said, looking like a proud papa whose little girl was all grown up. He extended his arms out to embrace her, "I always hoped you'd learn to accessorize…"
Betty peeled herself from him, straightening out her now-disheveled top and smoothing out her skirt, "c'mon. I wasn't that bad-"
"Betty you dressed like my 83-year-old grandmother," Kevin replied flatly. "Cardigans? Capri pants?" Betty playfully shoved him, and the two of them sat at their usual lunch table, waiting for the rest of the gang to arrive.
Betty saw Veronica appear in the doorway to the cafeteria, but instead of her usual, cheerful self, she looked slightly panicked. Betty caught eyes with her and waved her over.
"Hey, what's going on? Why do you look so freaked out?"
"Betty, you're not going to believe this-" Veronica started, but it was too late. Betty looked past her and saw Chuck walking into the cafeteria. He had a dislocated arm, he looked like he'd been badly beaten. Betty's mouth hung open in shock.
"What happened to him?" Kevin whispered. Veronica scooted in closer to them.
"That's what I was trying to tell you. Chuck got jumped this weekend."
"What?" Betty cried, "why who?" As soon as those words left her mouth, Betty's stomach dropped. She had a sinking feeling she knew the answer to that question already.
"I guess a couple of big dudes mugged him a few blocks away from his house, by the football field-" Veronica went on to tell them what all had happened, but Betty couldn't hear her anymore. Not with the way Chuck's eyes briefly flitted to hers, then away. Like… like he believed she had something to do with it. And a part of her knew that she did.
Determined, Betty stood and walked straight over to him. She could hear Veronica and Kevin protesting behind her, but she had to talk to him. She had to know. When she got closer to Chuck, he seemed uncomfortable, disturbed.
"Chuck. What happened to you?" Betty asked him outright. "Who did this to you?"
Chuck glared at her through two blackened eyes, "I think you know." Betty shook her head, her heart leaping to her throat. She wanted to ask him more, but he kept looking over his shoulder - he was scared. Paranoid.
"Just… stay away from me, okay? I won't mess with you anymore. I don't need any more of this crazy shit in my life-"
"Chuck, wait. I didn't have anything to do with this-" Betty tried to explain, but he was already walking away.
"Tell your boyfriend to keep his friends away from me, too," Chuck called out over his shoulder. As soon as he left, Kevin and Veronica were at her side.
"Why do you insist on confronting that skeezeball?" Veronica shuddered. "What was that even about?"
"I just.. I don't…" Betty stammered. She wanted to say what she'd already been thinking. That she left that voicemail for Jughead about Chuck, and then he just so happened to get jumped within 48 hours. She knew, in her heart of hearts, she knew. Jughead had arranged for the Serpents to rough Chuck up, get him to stay away from her for good. Scare him off.
And it had worked.
She felt a real, happy smile crack across her red lips. Betty knew Jughead was protecting Betty from afar, there was no doubt about it in her mind. Because of this, she knew what she'd known deep down, all along:
Jughead still loved her.
She had told him she would never stop fighting for him, and this fight was far from over.
To Be Continued...