+1.
"Thank you so much for the ride, Mr. and Mrs. Cooper," Kevin said gratefully as he unbuckled his seatbelt. "It was so kind of you to give me a ride." They had taken him and Betty to the debate team championships over in Midvale, a distance of some length. Though Kevin normally would have driven himself, it had been a demanding week and he didn't trust himself to be capable of making the long journey twice in one day.
"No problem, Kevin," Mr. Cooper told him cheerfully.
"It was delight to have you," Mrs. Cooper added. "You and Betty and all the other team members did a wonderful job today!"
Before Kevin left, Betty gave him a fierce hug. "You really were spectacular today. We might have lost to Pembroke this year, but we'll get them back next time!"
Kevin returned the hug with a smile. "Thanks, Betts. And I can't take all of the credit. You were phenomenal during the matches, too."
Exiting the car and waving goodbye, Kevin followed the front walkway leading to the spacious French provincial style house. With a frown, he noticed that his car was gone. Instead, his mother and father's cars were parked in the driveway.
"Honey, I'm home," he called out unenthusiastically as he entered through the front door, striding into the kitchen. Crumbs were scattered across the cloth on the table, coffee rings dotted the counter, and dirty dishes covered every available surface but the sink, all signs of the elusive mater and pater.
A pair of combat boots clomped down the staircase, and then Denise joined him. "How was quiz bowl?"
"It was debate team, and we took second place overall, with Pembrooke winning." Kevin began collecting dishes and bringing them to the sink. "I take it Mom and Dad are home, then?" He tilted his head to indicate the general chaos surrounding them.
"If you think this is bad, you should see the laundry room. It looks like a tornado hit it, and of course, they expect us to clean up after them." Denise tugged on a long strand of red hair in annoyance. "And they were home. They're gone again, now. But you know, I like them being gone better than them being here."
Though Kevin shot her a disapproving look, he understood her reasoning. At fourteen years old, Denise dressed like a walking Hot Topic advertisement, and her choice of dark attire and dark makeup was a continual source of contention between her and their parents. Honestly, Kevin thought they just should lay off. After all, he couldn't care less about her decision to dress like she just slinked off the set of an Evanescence music video, and he saw more of Denise than both of their parents combined.
"Where's Patty?" he asked, opening the dishwasher and loading up the silverware.
"Crying upstairs in her room," Denise told him. "Mom and Dad were really mean to her. And I feel bad for her, but it's nice for someone else to be their 'shoot to kill' target instead of me."
"Sounds like they were their usual charming selves." A thought occurred to him. "Do you have any idea why Dad's car is here while mine isn't?"
"Oh, yeah, that's right." Denise meandered over to the fridge. "The inspection is expired on both of their cars, so they took yours. They want you to have at least one but preferably both of the cars inspected by Monday when they come back."
Exasperation flared within Kevin. "Dammit, I'm so screwed. I left all my textbooks and notebooks in the backseat, and I have two tests on Monday. And just where the hell am I supposed to get a car inspected on the goddamn weekend? No auto shop is open!"
Denise shrugged before wandering off. "Don't shoot the messenger."
"Yeah, God forbid someone else besides me is ever inconvenienced." Kevin muttered, rubbing at his temples. If it was just a matter of having the cars fixed, he could probably beg Betty for another favor. But a half hour of scrolling through webpages of all of the listed auto body shops within a fifty mile radius told him what he already knew: no car garages nearby were open on weekends.
Any attempts to call his parents and relay this obvious information to them proved futile; both of their voicemail boxes were full, forcing him to resort to send them several texts begging them to call him as soon as possible. But as hours passed with no communication from either his mother or his father, Kevin found himself growing angrier and angrier.
Finally, when the clock struck seven in the evening and there was still no response from his parents and his search for a repair shop that operated on weekends proved entirely fruitless, Kevin decided he need to get out of the house. He was angry, and really, he should have used his anger to work out or go for a run, his usual coping methods. But he was tired, both mentally and physically, too tired for exercise. Besides, he hadn't eaten anything the entire day besides a single low-fat granola bar at six in the morning, so he had nothing to feel guilty for.
Denise was sashaying down the stairs as he was pulling on his coat.
"Are we going to eat dinner tonight, or what?" She asked.
"It's self-serve tonight," Kevin informed her. "You're fourteen years old. You can manage to operate the microwave or the stove."
She put her hands on her hips. "We barely have anything to eat. You forgot to go grocery shopping."
"There's cereal in the pantry and milk in the fridge," Kevin retorted. "Have a blast. Watch Patty until I'm back."
"When will that be?" Denise demanded.
"Sooner than I'd like," he snarled. "Don't give me attitude, Denise. I need a break, too, sometimes." He stepped out the front door, but stuck his head back inside a half second later. "And if Mom or Dad calls, tell them to call me right away." He shut the front door firmly behind him, uninterested in hearing more of Denise's protests.
Guilt surged through Kevin as he stalked to his father's car, glanced at the expired inspection tag, and unlocked the door. Usually, he was much nicer to both of sisters, trying, if unsuccessfully, to make a stable home situation for them. But every once in a while, he needed someone to cut him some slack. He couldn't be giving everything his all every second of the day. Once in a blue moon, he just needed someone else to step up to the plate instead of leaving it to him all of the time.
That was the problem with ever-so-goddamn-nice Kevin Keller, he mused as he pulled out of the driveway. People took it for granted that he always would be nice, always be reliable, always come through for them, always be a motherfucking miracle worker. He knew it was a self-inflicted hell, because he was the one who created the image, the persona, but fuck if people ( his parents ) weren't salivating over the chance to imprison him into it.
Even though he had always enjoyed driving at night, this evening he found himself barely able to concentrate on the road. The headlights of each passing car brought him to shield his eyes or else become dizzy, and his attempts to squint through the shine left him seeing spots. Too often, he found his attention wandering from the road and completely forgetting that he was driving at all as he worried about his parents' response to his inability to achieve the tasks they had assigned.
Almost unconsciously, Kevin found himself heading toward the downtown area of Riverdale.
What would his mother and father say to him when he wasn't able to have the cars inspected? What would they tell him?
Unfortunately for drivers, downtown Riverdale was designed for pedestrians. There was a long line of stoplights along the central streets to slow traffic. Just Kevin's luck for the first light to change to red the moment the car ahead of him made its turn.
His parents would be angry. They would be disappointed. They would be accusatory and probably be convinced he could have found a way to complete the inspection, but was too lazy to do so. Or that he didn't have the cars checked just to spite them.
Finally, the light changed, and Kevin pushed forward to the second traffic stop of the line, already anticipating he would get stuck with another red light. He did.
They always assumed the worst of him, without fail. In addition to being the designated nanny and housekeeper of the family, he was also the default devil. The more he tried to prove himself to his parents, the less they liked him.
The light switched to green, letting him move forward to the next stop—not even three hundred yards away, and that light had already shifted from green to orange.
Fuck, he was exhausted. Just fatigued inside and out. His head ached, his eyes felt dry and strained, and his shoulders could have been carved from lead. His stomach ached from not eating for more than twelve hours, but he knew he would be able to stomach any food until he relaxed. Really, he just needed the world to slow down every so often and let take a rest.
The traffic light ahead of him changed to red, but Kevin barely noticed. Breathing was becoming difficult, and panic began to overwhelm him once more.
He couldn't breathe.
The traffic stop loomed ahead of him, the red light glaring, but Kevin didn't even think of slowing down, too seized by the anxiety that had been lurking around him like a shadow all day.
His car barreled through the red light as horns from the other vehicles blared around him. Barely aware of what was happening, the situation didn't register with Kevin until he spotted a figure in the crosswalk dead ahead.
Stomping on the brakes, Kevin braced himself for the sickening crunch of bone being crushed beneath metal, but it never came. Miraculously, his car slammed to a halt not five feet in front of the person in the crosswalk. The pedestrian was a boy carrying a skateboard who looked about middle school age, not much older than Patty and but younger than Denise.
For a moment, Kevin sat frozen in place, staring at the boy who stood still before his car, caught in the glare of the headlights. For a second, Kevin was struck by the urge to rush out to the boy and apologize, to check that he was unhurt, but a blast from one of the cars stuck behind him brought him back to reality.
The noise also appeared to startle the boy in his headlights; he jumped and then scampered back to the safety of the sidewalk. Shaking and overcome by nausea, Kevin cautiously continued forward, but pulled his car into the first parking lot he spotted: Pickens Park, so named for a Riverdale war hero.
Still gasping for breath, Kevin turned off the engine, stumbling out of the car and locking it behind him. To his relief, the park appeared deserted, but then, few others would want to be outside on a cold February night.
Making his way to a park bench by the duck pond, Kevin sat down and tried to control his breathing.
He almost killed someone tonight because he had been too absorbed in his own problems, his own angst and issues. A kid who probably went to Denise's school. How could he be so irresponsible, so reckless?
Jesus, his parents were right when they told him he was selfish.
Reaching down to the seat of the bench, Kevin gripped the wooden slats as hard as he could, trying to steady himself, wishing with all of his might that he could be better, be stronger, be worthwhile.
Ever-so-nice Kevin Keller was a goddamn lie, and he hated himself for creating it, for sustaining it, and for failing to live up to it.
The barking of a dog close by caught Kevin off-guard, and he glanced around in alarm, only to find an enormous white sheep dog racing past him, charging after the ducks.
Hot Dog , Kevin realized. Which could only mean—
"Hey Kev," Jughead said with an easy smile as he joined Kevin on the bench.
"Hey," Kevin grated out, moving to face him. He sounded like a mess and probably looked like one, too, if both of Jughead's eyebrows shooting up were anything to go by.
To his credit, Jughead tried to be tactful. "You doing okay?"
The question was one Kevin was anticipating, but nevertheless, a desperate laugh burst out of his throat. "No. No, I'm not." To his mortification, tears suddenly stung his eyes, and he quickly looked away.
"Hey." Jughead reached out gripped Kevin's shoulder tightly. "Would it help to talk?"
Kevin shook his head miserably. "It's just a mess right now, Jughead. I'm a mess." His fists clenched and unclenched, and he felt himself begin shake again. "I don't even know what's wrong with me. I don't know where to begin."
Wordlessly, Jughead moved swiftness and certainty Kevin wouldn't have thought he would have possessed, pulling him into a secure embrace, one that he found himself instinctively returning.
For several minutes, they simply sat that way. Kevin could not remember the last time someone had hugged him, or any time when such a seemingly minor gesture held such significance, such reassurance to him.
The wind picked up as Jughead held Kevin, sending frigid gusts of cold air their way, bringing the both of them to shudder.
"I'm on my lonesome tonight, except for Hot Dog," Jughead told him. "I was going out to grab a burger. Want to come with me?"
Pulling away, Kevin looked at him directly. "Jug, let me ask you something. Why do you—"
"You don't have to come if you don't want to," Jughead interrupted.
"—bother with me?" Kevin finished. He wiped away a traitor tear that was trailing down his face. "I just—" he broke off, shaking his head. "I'm not the person you think I am."
Jughead blinked, looking surprised, and then shrugged. "We're never the people anyone thinks we are," he said simply. "No one know everything about anyone."
Kevin swallowed. "I'm a little bit . . . complicated." He couldn't determine a better way to describe himself. "If you ever wondered why I could never hang out with you, it's because I'm a fraud."
His admission didn't seem to particularly move Jughead. "I always thought it was because of your clubs and sports teams. And your parents being away all the time."
"Well, that, too. But I—" Kevin exhaled deeply. "I'm not the nice guy everyone thinks I am. I do all these clubs and these sports, but for the most part I hate it. I participate because I want people to like me, but when they do like me, I can't help but feel they've fallen for a lie rather than the real person. 'Kevin Keller, he's such a great guy'—right. That guy doesn't exist. In reality, Kevin Keller is just a bitter martyr."
"Hey." Jughead slung his arms over Kevin's shoulders. "I'm sure you're more complicated than that."
"Not really," Kevin said flatly. "All of those times you tried to ask me out, I kept saying no because I thought you would figure me out and hate me for it."
Jughead arched an eyebrow. "Hate you for what, exactly? Not actually liking yearbook? Being begrudging about Amnesty International? Did you think I'd petition to have you exiled if I knew you didn't enjoy junior engineering league?"
Kevin couldn't help but smile at his friend's remarks, but he still wasn't able to suppress his worry. "I thought everyone else would hate me for not being able to do it all, for being a failure. For being Kevin Keller: Normal Person, instead of Kevin Keller: Super Teen. But you?" he searched Jughead's face. "I thought you'd hate me for lying about everything in the first place. For being a fake who tried to make everyone else believe in a fantasy. Most of all, for being someone who's completely wrapped up in what other people think of him."
"So noted." Jughead eyed him appraisingly for several seconds. "Okay, I'm going to ask you three questions. One: do you still like comic books?"
"I—" The relevant query caught Kevin off-guard. "Yes?"
"Good, good. Two: do you still like burgers?"
Kevin couldn't hold back a chuckle. "Yes."
"Phenomenal. Three: do you like hanging out with me and want to continue to in the future?"
"Yes." Taking a deep breath, Kevin added, "I'd actually really like to date you, if you'll have me."
Jughead grinned. "Wasn't quite expecting that answer, but I'm glad to hear it, so my response is a definite 'yes.' Unanticipated fourth question: would you be willing to lend me the money for a milkshake, should I require funds?"
Kevin smiled back. "I think I'll be able to spare the change." He grew serious once more. "But are you sure you want to be with me? Friends, or . . . otherwise?"
"Look." Jughead's tone was frank. "I wasn't trying to ask you out based on your love or hatred of extracurriculars. You like yearbook? Fine. You don't like yearbook? That's fine, too. My interest in you isn't going to vanish because you want to spend more time playing videos instead of entering debate competitions. I want to go out with you because I like the person you are, not because of your list of after-school activities."
"You really want me, huh?" Kevin looked Jughead directly in the eyes.
"Absolutely." Jughead returned his gaze unflinchingly.
"Than what do you say we go get that burger?" Kevin suggested. "It can be our first official date."
"Sounds terrific." Grinning, Jughead rose, calling Hot Dog away from chasing the ducks. He then extended a hand to Kevin to help him up as well.
At first taken aback, Kevin's smile broadened as he accepted the hand. Neither of them let go as they walked down the path together.