Ch.8: The Disappearing Act
No one knew where he was. It had been three days and none of us could get into contact with Jughead. Archie said that on Thursday evening he'd promised he would meet him at home, after going to Pop's with me. But he didn't show. We'd expected him to at least make an appearance at school the following day, but no luck. I was starting to worry at this stage. His phone had been disconnected and I was beginning to fear the worst.
Sunday evening, I knocked on the Andrews' door, ringing my hands together. I needed to settle this now.
"Hi, Betty, what's-" before Archie could finish, I grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him with me down the street. "Where are we going?" He asked.
"To find Jughead." I declared.
"Betts, he does this. He disappears and needs space."
"I need to know that he's ok. Are you not the least bit worried?" I asked horrified, that his best friend was ok with his unexplained departure.
"You're right." He resigned, and I let go of his wrist, now that he would willingly follow me.
The trailer site was abandoned at this hour. I peered through the windows, trying to decipher whether someone was home, but it was difficult to tell with the blinds. Instead, biting my tongue, I knocked purposefully on the door. No response.
"Maybe we should just come backā¦" I whispered, suddenly reconsidering. Archie shook his head, and shoved the door open himself.
"Hi guys," Jughead said, smiling, from the couch. I dug my nails into the palms of my hand. Why was I mad rather than relieved? He was acting so laid back; as though he had only left us an hour ago.
"Where have you been?" I gritted out, digging my nails further into my skin- restraining the anger. He walked towards me, taking my hands in his and unfurling them, kissing my knuckles, and shaking his head. Archie turned his back on us, walking towards the kitchen area, trying to find something to occupy himself.
"I've been here the whole time," he explained. "Sorting things out," he added.
"Next time tell someone first," I sighed; the anger passing, leaving only the sense of relief. I had never noticed before, but when we were only friends- well more of acquaintances, really- Jughead would disappear for a week or more. I had been curious, but until now, I'd never been so panicked about it. Nothing Archie would've said would've been any consolation. I needed him, face to face, reassuring me that he was safe. I couldn't lose him.
"Are you ok?" Jughead asked, reaching up, caressing my cheek. His eyebrows were scrunched together, and he was crouching to my height, looking deep in my eyes, trying to determine my thoughts.
"Just relieved," I smiled, shaking my head, grasping the cuff of his jacket, and smothered his lips with mine. I wanted to tell him. But it would ruin the moment. Not yet, anyway. Usually, I would've drawn back, content at this stage, but I couldn't. I tilted my head, gasping for air, but never wanting it to end. I moved a hand to the back of his neck, holding him in place, as I deepened the kiss. It was still sweet; tongues entangling and drawing back, rather than fighting for dominance, but my sheer desperation to have him back must've been obvious.
"Whoa," he whispered, leaning his forehead against mine.
"You can say that again," FP said from the couch. We jumped apart, and I suddenly felt self-conscious; how long had he been watching?
"Oh, sorry Mr. Jones. Archie and I just came to see Jughead," I stumbled over the words awkwardly, as the older man just smirked.
"Archie's gone dear," he grinned nodding behind us. When had he left? "Would you like to stay for dinner?" FP added.
"Betty has dinner waiting for her." Jughead interrupted. "I'll walk you home," he grabbed his jacket, thrown over a chair, and made his way towards the door.
"What happened?" I asked, grasping his hand.
"My dad. He's trying to fix things. I figured I'd make it easier by going home for a bit, making sure he stayed on track. I cleared out all the beer, made sure he went to work. I'm sorry I didn't call. Habit," he shrugged. I hated how withdrawn he could be sometimes. The weight of the world could be weighing down on him, and rather than confiding in someone, he would shield himself from others. Jughead's always been there for me; a shoulder to cry on; someone to talk to; always involving himself in my family problems. I wanted him to just let me in. I knew he talked to Archie, but there couldn't be a messenger between us.
"Juggie, if there's anything. Anything, you need to talk about, I'm here." I said, stopping in our tracks to face him. He was looking down again. I held his face between my hands, forcing him to look at me. "I want to help, or just be here at least. Please. Promise, you'll talk about it at least." I added. I hated interfering, but I needed him to know that this moral support was not solely on his part. Without a word, he nodded, almost ashamed that he hadn't already, and kissed my forehead.
A few cars rumbled by, but this hour of the evening was always quiet. People seemed to stay indoors more often since Jason's death. The sombre atmosphere still smothered the town. Street lights were diluted by the mist, and the emptiness of the streets created a threatening atmosphere. However, Jughead's presence calmed me. He brushed his thumb across the back of my hand, comforting. He saw past my dark side- the renewed evidence across the palms of my hands didn't freak him- instead he stabilised me. How had I managed all this time without someone as supporting as him. Oh yes, I'd been blinded by my 'love' for Archie. Archie was sweet, and he cared from me, but not in the way Jughead can.
"I'll see you in school tomorrow?" I asked, as we approached the gate to my house. He nodded, biting his bottom lip, as if holding back something.
"After the first three classes," he decided, nodding as though contemplating again. He leaned in covering my lips with his chastely. I tiptoed up, bringing my lips to his ear, building up the courage.
"I love you," I whispered, turning on my heels quickly to avoid a reaction or reply. I'd almost blurted it out at the relief I'd felt early, but had decided against it. Too late for that now. I balled my hands into fists, almost giddy, as I shut the door quickly behind me, sinking to the floor, smiling up at the ceiling.
Let me know what you thank x Thanks for the support so far.
