Hello again.
So, somebody who hasn't messaged me back yet recently called my favorite pairing "Bughead." I about died laughing. It was simply the most fantastic BxJH name I have ever heard in my entire life, and believe me, I've heard a lot.
So, thank you, mysterious stranger whose name won't go here until you message me saying that it's okay.
And I heart you guys times infinity. Do not forget.
Keep reviewing, por favor.
P.S.: One chapter left.
Disclaimer: Archie Comics belongs to your mama. If you're the offspring of the Archie Comics creator, of course.
Jughead woke up to a sharp pain along his right side. Confused, he waited a moment until his eyes adjusted to the darkness. In the minute or two which elapsed, he realized that he was lying in his bed. So he had been dreaming. He wondered how much of this fantastic Betty-flirting his subconcious had tortured him with. Did it go all the way back to January, where they pelted each other with snowballs and watched the sun rise, or was it even earlier than that? He wondered if his entire life had been a dream. He wondered if everything he had ever known and believed in had been a figment of the darker half of his imagination--the half that he seldom delved into other than when he was asleep. Somewhere in the middle of this philosophical schpiel, he noticed that the far wall of his room was not where it had been the day before. He frowned. His comforter was thicker and more luxurious, as well.
And it was purple.
With green flowers.
His first thought was that he was in a mental ward, which made sense because he believed himself to be a boy, though these pretty purple and green flowers said otherwise.
His second thought was that he had somehow been abducted by aliens while he slept and was now dumped unceremoniously into the bed of some unknowing, unsuspecting little girl.
He was half right.
Then he felt the pain in his side again and remembered to turn to the right. There he found a sleeping girl. She was curled on her side, one arm underneath her head and the other sprawled out across his stomach. Her right knee was bent at a ninety degree angle to her body and her left knee (the one that caused all the pain, presumably) was digging into Jughead's side abdominals.
He gently nudged it away with his free hand. Free hand? His left hand was completely mobile and visible to the eye. It took him a moment to find his right. It was underneath her, supporting her back. He sucked in a sharp breath and his mind began racing.
How the hell did he get in her bed, in the first place?
Okay. We were talking on the phone...I came over...She tried to make me sleep on the couch. There was only enough room for her, so I set up a place on the floor. She got mad, we argued for a little while, she got mad again. I went to get some popcorn from home...Then what?
When he came back she had called him upstairs. He, being male, ran up to meet her (of course). She had set up a place on the floor for the two of them. Her reasoning had been simply, "There's carpet in here. We'll be able to sit up in class tomorrow." She had overestimated the comfort of sleeping on a carpeted floor, however, because within minutes, she began complaining. Jughead had to wrestle her into the bed in order to shut her up, and then resumed his place on the floor.
At about twelve o' clock there there had been a loud noise outside for nearly ten minutes. He still wasn't quite sure what it was, to tell the truth. It had sounded like a cat on a trash can, probably running from Hot Dog. Betty had jumped down next to him and whispered for him to, "Please, please," sleep next to her.
How could he resist?
When he was done reflecting, Jug's ears and face were burning hot. The frog clock next to her said that it was nearly four in the morning. He sighed.
Betty's knee collided with his side again and, frustrated, he flipped around so that his stomach was facing hers. He figured she wouldn't be able to reach him if he pulled his hips back far enough. He was correct. Triumphant, he decided to worm his arm out from underneath her. He placed his left hand just below her stomach and gently, ever so gently, moved her hips halfway high enough for him to get his hand through. When she began to stir, he stopped moving all together. But then she quieted and he continued with his task, edging her hips up just a quarter inch more before she stirred again. This went on for at least two minutes before he was successful in pulling his hand out from under her side, upon which he flexed his fingers and pumped his arm in a burst of victorious feeling.
"Jughead."
He froze.
"What. The hell. Are you doing," she asked in a monotonous, robotic tone. He opened his mouth.
"...Uhhh," he offered, his hand still in the air.
"You are so weird," she mused. He couldn't see her face, but he hoped she was smiling.
"Go back to sleep," he commanded. She nodded, flipping over and shifting so that her side pressed against his stomach, and closed her eyes.
Needless to say, Jughead didn't sleep at all after that.
After at least two and a half hours Betty woke up again. Around forty-five minutes before that, Jughead had given all hope of getting his ever-swelling nether regions to leave him alone. Thankfully, they had finally gotten tired of trying to annoy him and stopped misbehaving all on their own. Nevertheless, he held his breath as Betty's eyes fluttered open.
"G'morning," she said groggily. Jughead nodded carefully. "I need to shower," she told him, flipping the covers off herself. "What time is it?"
"Around seven, I guess," Jughead answered, swinging his legs out over the side of the bed. They were both clothed in jeans and t-shirts. As Betty stood up, Jughead noticed that her shirt had ridden up throughout the night and was now halfway up her back. He was attempting to keep himself from laughing, but failed miserably. She pulled it down and ushered him out.
Around twenty minutes later Jug re-entered the house, freshly washed, dressed, and fed. Betty was just getting out of the shower. She stepped out of her room in a baby blue bathrobe and made an angry kind of face at him.
"What the hell! You're finished already?!"
"I'll make breakfast," he offered with a grin. She rolled her eyes.
"I hate you men and your crazy 15-minute preparation time," she sneered, poking her tongue out at him. "I still have to dry my hair, pick out my clothes, and do my makeup."
"And eat breakfast," Jughead added, brandishing a skillet at her.
"This'll take at least a half hour, Jug," she warned, pointing at herself. He shrugged.
"I can wait."
"Stop being so sweet," she said seriously, making an inappropriate hand gesture.
"Hey, now!" he exclaimed, feigning disapproval. She grinned and left the landing, leaving him with a skillet in his hand and a smile on his face.
He opened the fridge: skim milk, eggs, a full package of turkey bacon, deli lunch meat, salad dressing, and lots and lots of fruits and vegetables. Ew.
He opened the cupboards: Hundred Calorie Packs, Vitamin Water, more fruit, sugar-free sugar, nonfat cookies, and tea.
"You're not watching your weight, are you, Bets?" he called, closing the shelves.
"Of course."
"What the hell for?"
"What do you mean by that?"
"I mean that you're perfect the way you are."
"Society tells me I need to be Veronica-sized, so I stay Veronica-sized," she answered.
"Well, I'm telling you that I want you Betty-sized."
"I am Betty-sized!"
"Well, if Betty-sized is that tiny, you could stand to be a bit less Betty-sized."
"Shut up. But thank you."
"I don't see how that was a compliment."
"Neither do I. Society tells me that when somebody tells I me I look like a stick-figure, I say 'Thank you.'"
"Society is whack, Betty."
"I know, Jug. I know."
He cracked four eggs into his skillet, choosing to add some (skim) mozarella cheese and freshly-sliced tomatoes before stirring it up and making it into an omelette. He fried turkey bacon in another pan and cut a grapefruit in half while waiting for the meal to cook, choosing to place two packets of sugar-free sugar on the plate, as well.
He finished about three minutes before Betty did, giving him just enough time to grab a few daisies from the bush outside and arrange them on the table.
"Hello hello, Juggiepants," she greeted, strolling into the room accompanied by her usual sunny aura. "Ooh, this looks delicious."
"I know," he answered nonchalantly, picking up his fork.
"There's so much," she laughed, picking up her fork as well.
"I know," he repeated. "Here, that's mine." He took her plate. "You can have a little of this grapefruit or something."
"Jug!"
In geometry class, Lisa Park came up to Betty while Jughead was talking to her.
"I heard you're going with Archie," she began in her usual, whiny voice. Betty turned around.
"Oh, yeah. I am," she said, trying to smile.
"You must be ecstatic!" Lisa squealed. "I know how much you like him." Betty looked at Jughead and discreetly made a face.
"Yeah, I'm so excited," she said. She had just finished explaining to Jughead her elaborate plan for the dance tonight--the one that involved committing outlandish shenanigans in an attempt to get Archie so distracted that she could slip away unnoticed. "It should be great fun."
"I'm going with--Oh, hello, Jughead."
"Hi, Lisa."
Under her breath: "Who's he going with?"
"Everyone keeps asking me that, but I have no idea," Betty answered, shooting Jughead a look.
"Well, his ex Joani moved, and I heard Debbi's mad at him or something. Plus, Ethel's going with Fabulous-Hair Martin," Lisa gossiped, her voice getting louder with every word.
"Yeah, I know. He told me," Betty nodded, squeezing Jug's hand underneath the desk in a comforting gesture.
"Plus, he didn't ask anybody. Some of the girls are wondering if he really likes girls, or if he--"
"You know I'm sitting right here, right, Lisa?" Jug asked, leaning forward and smiling. Her face turned an odd shade halfway between the color of a radish and that of a raspberry, and she opened and closed her mouth several times, much like a fish, before settling back down behind the two of them.
"You see what I mean?" Jughead whispered furiously.
"What?" Betty answered, just as quietly.
"Everyone will think I'm a loser if I don't show up with anybody," he answered, shaking his head.
"Will not," Betty snorted. "Plenty of kids are going without dates."
"Correction: Plenty of freshmen are going without dates. It's only okay if you're a freshman, and that's only because they usually don't have any friends to go with, anyway."
"I'm your friend," Betty retorted.
"You're my best friend."
"So, then, go to the dance for me. Y'know, we've been through this already, Juggie."
"It's not really the same."
"So, what? You want me to tell Archie, 'Oh, sorry, Arch. Jughead's kind of sad so I'm going to be going with him to the dance, instead.'?"
"It'd be nice," Jug answered, joking of course.
"Jughead, puh-leez. I already promised Veronica. And she's already not going, and Archie's already got a suit. I can't bail out now."
"I wish you could," Jughead mumbled angrily.
"So do I."
Jughead glanced sideways at her, unable to control the smile that was now seeping across his face and illuminating his features. She was busy deciphering the cluster of variables and shapes in front of herself.
Jughead spent the rest of that class daydreaming.
After school, all Jughead could think about was getting his suit as soon as possible.
"Okay, Betty, I've really got to leave," Jughead announced, letting go of her hand and pulling his sleeve back to glare at his watch.
"No, you don't," she answered, sticking her hand out for him to take.
"You said that fifteen minutes ago, the last time I told you I had to go."
"I know," she told him, pulling his arm towards her face so she could see his watch. "It's only three."
"I've got to go and find Archie and my suit, remember?" Jughead mocked, placing one hand on his hip.
"Oh, yeah. And I've got to go get my dress from Veronica, too." She bit her lip and looked behind her as if her ex-best friend was following her. "Are you coming over later?"
"Won't you be with Archie?"
"Not until six-thirty, dingbat," she reminded him, making a face.
"Well, I figure you won't be done picking out your dress from Veronica's bountiful wardrobe until about four, then you'll probably go home and get ready for a few hours."
She narrowed her eyes. "'A few hours?' Are you calling me ugly?" Jughead blushed.
"No--I mean--Well, you know how girls are, they just--I'm sorry," he finished lamely. She laughed.
"I know what you meant. And you're probably right. I'll call you before the dance or something, 'kay?"
He nodded and they parted, Jug heading for the parking lot and Archie's car, and Betty heading for the front of the school and Veronica's limo. Jug stood outside of Archie's car for about ten minutes before he finally showed up.
"Hey, Jug!" Archie called, waving. Jughead smiled.
"What's up, buddy?"
"Ahh, the usual. Veronica's leaving for Centerville at about four, and Betty's hanging with her until then. The dance starts at seven, anyway. Oh, and here's your suit," he added quickly, reaching into the back seat of his car. He pulled out an opaque, white dry-cleaning bag and handed it to Jughead. "Call me if there's any problems. And don't worry, I stuck the tie in there and everything. It's a matching set, so wear it all together or it won't look right."
"Thanks, Arch. You're a great friend," he announced, taking Archie's hand and giving it a brotherly shake.
"Yeah, well, you'd better go get ready. You've only got three and a half hours," Archie reminded him. "I'm going to go rent a tuxedo. I had a suit picked out, but I'm sure Betty'll like this better," he said with a grin, waving as he jumped into his car.
Jughead watched him drive off for a minute or two, and then turned around to begin his walk home.
He didn't really know why he refused to take a car to school.
What the hell is he trying to do to me? Jughead asked himself, twirling around in front of his mother's three-way mirror. His mother was attempting to hide her giggles and his dad looked sympathetic.
"It might look better underneath the disco lights, son," his father told him, scratching the back of his neck in his trademark I-am-lying gesture.
"You said it would look better when I put it on," Jughead answered bitterly, unable to take his eyes off himself.
"Well, look on the bright side, Jug."
"Very funny, mom!" he interrupted. His dad burst out laughing.
"I mean that seriously," she giggled. "At least you'll attract attention."
"I don't want to attract this much attention! This is ridiculous, even for me! I thought Archie and me were friends." He muttered that last bit under his breath.
"It can only get better from here," his father said, using a famous dad euphemism. Jug rolled his eyes and his parents exited the room.
What is Betty going to think?
