Chapter Seven

Jughead didn't quite know how it happened, but somewhere between all the scheming and coffee cups, he and Veronica became actual friends. That was the only logical explanation for how she convinced him to help her shop for a new laptop on the Saturday morning after his professor's reading. He met her at the Apple store near Times Square, arriving a few minutes late after being held up by a Women's Rights march.

"Well, you are technically the patriarchy," Veronica pointed out after he told her why he was late.

"I resent that."

"Blame your y chromosome."

After several minutes in the store it became readily apparent that Veronica knew nothing about computers, and as such, had no idea what she was looking for.

"Didn't it occur to you to do some research before you came here and dropped, what, a thousand dollars on a laptop?"

Veronica shrugged. "No. That's why I brought you."

"And here I thought it was for my wit."

"I must admit that I have a bit of an ulterior motive, as well," Veronica added, looking at a rose gold MacBook.

Jughead grimaced. "Of course you do. What is it?"

"Betty's being annoyingly coy about that reading you guys went to but I can tell that something happened. So, after my original source failed spectacularly I am going to the other source. I.e. you."

"I'm not telling you anything," Jughead said.

"Juggie, don't be ridiculous," Veronica said. "I can help you."

"We don't need help."

"Aha!" Veronica said, slapping his arm. "You said we. That proves that something happened between you and Betty. Tell me everything."

"Who knew a collective pronoun had so much hidden meaning?" Jughead returned glibly, unfazed by her overtures.

"You can avoid all you want, but I know something happened," Veronica said. "It was good, right? I know you two are still talking, so it couldn't have been bad."

"Nothing bad happened," he clarified. In fact, something very good happened. They didn't go any farther than the hand holding, but the very act itself was an affirmation of what he'd been feeling for weeks. "But anything else that may or may not have happened is between Betty and me."

"But nothing's happening now," Veronica said. "She would tell me if it was. So, tell me, what kind of weird deal did you guys make and how can I fix it?"

"Take those little scheming gloves off. There is nothing to fix."

Veronica frowned and told him, "You both are annoying me now."

"Let's get back to the reason we're here, okay? Let's find you a laptop."

"I'm sick of being here," Veronica said unhappily. She snapped her finger toward the salesperson and said, "I'll take this MacBook. You can put it under Lodge."

Jughead looked at her strangely. "You have a personal account at Apple?"

"Yeah, my dad's a major investor," Veronica said off-handedly.

"Of course he is."

A few minutes later the salesperson returned with her bag and Veronica said, "Come on, Juggie, I'll let you buy me lunch."


Jughead met up with Betty later that day in Central Park and they strolled through the winding pathways, the afternoon sun warming their faces and turning the tops of Betty's shoulders pink. The pair walked close, his hand finding her lower back as they darted past crowds. They stopped in front of a street performer and Betty linked her arm with his, leaning against him.

Jughead tried not to read into the fact that she didn't tell Veronica about them. He understood the impulse to keep it between themselves. Other people brought their own opinions and expectations, particularly Veronica, who put so much effort into their relationship that she almost seemed like an unnamed third party. Besides, why did it matter when she was pressed against his side? He didn't need the entire world to know as long as they did. Still, though, her hesitance gave him reservation.

"I think I'm going to quit NYU and become a street performer," Jughead said, walking with Betty farther into the park. They passed a group of school children getting their portrait taken by a caricature artist. The children saw the finished product and squealed with laughter.

"You don't play any instruments," Betty pointed out.

"I can learn one," he returned easily. "Or I'll play the spoons or something."

Betty laughed. "The spoons?"

"It's an underrated instrument, Betty."

"Is it?"

Jughead wrapped his arm around her shoulders and she reached up and took his hand in hers, threading their fingers together. He took perhaps too much comfort in the physicality of the moment, thinking that as long as his skin touched hers he could somehow keep her from running away. Betty was uncharacteristically quiet, and Jughead asked, "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing much," she said, squeezing his hand. "I'm glad we were able to do this."

"Me too."

"How did Veronica's laptop shopping go this morning?" Betty asked. "I'm sorry again that she dragged you out there with her."

"It's fine. I actually don't mind her."

"High compliment from you," Betty said lightly.

"She was asking about Thursday," Jughead said casually, curious to see how she reacted. "Apparently you're being cagey."

"Did you tell her anything?" Betty asked.

"No, I know you don't want to make this a big thing," he said. He hesitated for a moment before adding, "I was sort of surprised you didn't want to tell Veronica, though."

"I know," Betty said. "I just don't want other people getting involved with it right now. I like what we have."

Jughead nodded. "Yeah, okay."

He knew that Betty was nervous about going forward with their relationship, but the more she justified their decision (really, her decision) to keep their relationship quiet for the time being, he found himself questioning that decision. On a base level, he understood it because he understood her, and he couldn't judge her for it. Everyone had their concerns, hers just happened to directly involve him. Still, he couldn't help but wonder if her reservations went deeper than she let on.

Betty looked up at him and asked, "You're not upset, are you?"

"No, I'm not," he told her. And that was the truth. He wasn't upset. He was scared.

"We will tell Veronica – everyone – eventually," Betty said reasonably. "But for now I just want it to be me and you. We don't need anyone else."

He nodded. "Okay, but…" he trailed off, not sure if he wanted to go where that sentence was heading.

Betty looked up at him with concern and asked, "What?"

"Nothing," Jughead said quickly.

"No, you were going to say something. Tell me, Jug. Please."

Jughead bit the inside of his cheek worriedly before telling her, "I just…you're not changing your mind, are you? About us?"

"No! Jug – " she pulled them to a stop and reached up to frame his face with her hands. He took some solace in the worry clearly etched on her face. "I am not changing my mind. I want this."

"Because if you change your mind –"

"Jug," she interrupted, tugging his face down and kissing him. She pressed his forehead against hers and murmured, "I am not changing my mind. I promise."


Betty stood with Jughead in the middle of Central Park, forehead pressed against his and feeling like an absolute bitch. Jughead didn't seem convinced by her overtures that she wanted him, and she knew it was her fault. If she were a bigger person she would take her phone out right there and call Veronica. She'd give him the same sense of security that he gave to her so willingly. But, setting the parameters of their relationship was the last bit of control that she had left, and she couldn't bring herself to give it up yet. It was stupid and very possibly self-destructive, but it was where she was and she couldn't see any other way.

"Buy you a pretzel?" Betty offered half-heartedly, knowing it was a poor and salty substitute for what he really wanted.

"Yeah sure."

She slipped her arms around his waist as they walked and asked herself for at least the twentieth time why she wasn't able to just be with him. He had been there for her in ways that other people in her life never had. He saw past her perky exterior and somehow brought out truths that she hadn't even admitted to herself. If she could really let go with anyone, it was him. And she wanted to let go. She wanted to hand him her heart and say, I trust you, because she did. She trusted him maybe more than anyone else in her life, but just the thought of losing that last bit of control made her palms curl and nails dig. The truth was, actually being with him terrified her and she didn't quite know how to tell him that.

They stopped at the pretzel stand and she looked up at him, sharing a smile that she hoped told him everything that she couldn't herself. He smiled back, dropping a kiss on the top of her head, and the knots in her stomach loosened slightly. He didn't let her pay for the pretzels, swatting her hand away when she tried to hand over money, and she told herself that things were fine. They were fine. They ate their pretzels in content silence, hands clasped between them, but then Betty spotted Veronica a few paces away and she pulled her hand from his.

"Hey guys," Veronica said, eyes darting between the pair with naked interest. Her gaze settled on Jughead and she said, "You didn't tell me you and Betty had plans this afternoon."

"It was last minute," Jughead returned easily.

"Look at you guys with your matching pretzels," Veronica said. "How cute."

"Pretzels are the food of the people," Jughead said. "And what are Betty and me, if not model people."

"That you are," Veronica said. "Anyway, I won't interrupt your little…well…whatever this is. B, I'll see you tonight for dinner?"

Betty nodded. "Yeah, I'll be there."

Veronica tossed toward Jughead, "We're having a girl's night. Drinks and dinner." Veronica raised her eyebrows and added, "Who knows, maybe we'll finally find Betty a man."

"Anyway, I'll see you tonight," Betty said loudly, wanting Veronica to be anywhere but here. "Bye, Ronnie."

"Bye, Betty."

Veronica flounced away to presumably go meddle with other people's lives and Betty turned to Jughead and told him, "I'm so sorry."

"Don't apologize, I know Veronica, remember? She's just baiting me. Little does she know, I am un-baitable."

Betty smirked. "You're un-baitable?"

Jughead made sure that Veronica was out of eyesight before throwing an arm around Betty's shoulders. "I know that I have you. That's enough."


That night, Betty went out with Veronica and sat through an entire night of Veronica trying to throw her at available men. She knew what Veronica was trying to do. She wanted Betty to call her bluff and finally admit that she was, in fact, seeing someone, making the conveyor belt of men highly inappropriate. Betty fielded the advances without having to divulge much information at first, but then Veronica landed on a particularly persistent male who read her disinterest as a challenge. Even Veronica, intent on her plan to work, had enough and told him, "Your knock-off Armani suit and Axe body spray isn't working. Move on."

The guy seemed to consider arguing with Veronica, but the look that she gave him in return squelched any such idea and he left the pair, muttering the opposite of pleasantries under his breath as he left.

"He was awful," Veronica said, shaking her head in disbelief. "I'm sorry that my aim was so off with him. Maybe the next one will be better. Oh! Someone in a crewneck sweater just walked in. Definitely your type. I'll get him over here."

Veronica hopped off her seat, but Betty took a hold of her arm and said, "V, hold on."

"What is it?"

"No more men. Please."

"Why not?" Veronica asked. "I said I"d help you meet someone tonight." Veronica paused before knowingly adding, "Unless, of course, you've already met someone."

Betty was quiet and Veronica sat down next to her again. She paused for a moment before saying, "I know it's scary to take a risk with someone, but sometimes that risk is worth it. Don't deny yourself that, or lose that, just because you're scared. We're all scared, B. But that's why we have each other. To make us a little less scared. And if you just…let yourself take that chance, I think you'd actually find it's not that scary, after all."

"I'm not saying there is anyone," Betty began slowly, "But if there is, what if it doesn't work? What if we totally and completely implode and we ruined something good?"

"That would suck," Veronica admitted. "But, you don't know that will happen. Hypothetically speaking, you and this other person, you have a blank slate. Don't write an ending that isn't there."

Betty took a deep breath, hand curling tightly around her drink, and softly said, "It's Jughead."

Veronica smirked. "I know. You two were strolling through Central Park and Jughead doesn't really strike me as the platonic strolling type."

Betty laughed a bit and told her, "He agreed to keep it between us for a bit."

"I figured as much," Veronica said. She reached forward and laid her hand over Betty's. "What you are feeling right now is totally normal, but you can't let it keep you from living your life."

Betty nodded and finished her drink with a large gulp. She put the glass down on the bar counter and told Veronica, "I need to go see him."

Veronica smiled wide. "I was hoping you'd say that."


Jughead was just finishing up a game of Mario Kart when there was a knock on his door. He paused the game and checked his watch. 10:30. Who would be seeing him this late? He walked over to the door and opened it, surprised to see Betty standing in the doorway. Before he could say anything, she stepped forward and kissed him, arms winding around his neck. Jughead didn't quite know what was happening, but his instincts took over as he kissed her back, hands palming her waist. She pulled back after a few seconds and smiled nervously up at him.

"Hi," she murmured.

"Hi," he returned, attention diverted by the brunette female a few feet behind Betty. "Veronica?"

"Hello, Juggie. Well done there, by the way. Your technique looks spectacular."

Jughead blushed for perhaps the first time in his life and Betty laughed next to him as she chided her roommate with a half-hearted, "Veronica!"

"What? It was a compliment."

"So, Veronica and I were thinking of hitting a karaoke place not too far from here," Betty told Jughead, rocking a bit on her heels. Jughead took a hold of her hands and she stilled. "Do you want to come with?"

He squeezed her hands. "Karaoke? Really?"

"It was Veronica's idea," Betty told him.

"Why am I not surprised?" he deadpanned.

"I love karaoke," Veronica interjected. "An entire stage to myself with a rapt audience? What is there not to love?"

"Let me guess, you sing some Spice Girls or something?"

Veronica tossed away his suggestion with a flit of her hand. "Absolutely not. When I am up there, it is a show stopper. And the only true show stopper for karaoke is Bohemian Rhapsody."

Jughead gaped at her. "Are you serious?"

"She's actually pretty good at it," Betty said.

"It's a six minute song."

"Are you coming with or not?" Veronica asked impatiently. "My audience awaits."

Jughead looked over at Betty, whose gaze was squarely on him. He held her gaze, mouth turning up into a slight grin and watched her cheeks turn pink. The fact that he could do that to her would never grow old. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and said, "Yeah, I'll come with."