Betty scrambled to her feet, moving her body back to the other side of the arm of the couch so that something was between her and Jughead. She moved quickly enough to verify, even from this distance, that Jughead had been leaning toward her, uncomfortably, unacceptably close.
"Bathroom?" she managed, the word sounding strangled in her throat. Jughead quirked his head in confusion and pointed to the one enclosed space in the small apartment, the one closed door. Betty knew that was the bathroom, of course, but somehow asking his permission felt not-quite-as-rude as simply lunging wordlessly into the other room. She wrenched the door aside and lurched in, pulling it closed behind her. When she flipped the light on, the bathroom fan also droned to life, being tied into the same switch on the wall, and Betty was grateful for the sound, that it could drown out her gasps. She let the toilet lid clank shut and spun to sit on top of it. She planted her elbows onto her knees and her temple against her fists and tried to remember how breathing had worked before she'd met Jughead Jones.
Even the smell of him was overwhelming. It took her back to cold pizza on FP's matted carpet, his hand tangled idly in her hair as they scribbled away on homework or stories for the newspaper silently and side-by-side. Then, just as quickly, she'd remember the look on his face as he glimpsed her over Toni's shoulder, and she'd feel sick. Good thing there was a toilet conveniently close. She held her breath when she heard Jughead's boots scuff against the hardwood floor outside the bathroom door, but then she heard the kitchen sink come on and slumped back again.
Betty pulled her phone out of her pocket, so glad it hadn't been left in her coat, and dialed her first contact.
"What's up?" Sweet Pea sounded a little surprised, and she was sure he'd thought she'd hold out at least a few more days before needing him again this time.
"Where are you?" she whispered.
"What?"
"Where are you? Are you in Riverdale?"
"Yeah, I'm here for the next few days. Why, want me to drive up tonight?"
"No, no, listen. Sweets, I'm at Jughead's."
There was a pause on the other end of the line, but Betty thought she could sense his jaw tightening.
"Okay..."
"I need you to come get me. Please. Archie and Veronica left, I'm trapped here, I can't be here anymore."
"What's the address?"
"It's Jughead's studio."
"Yeah, Betty, we're not that close anymore. I don't know where he lives."
Betty pulled her phone away from her ear and into her lap and swiped into her Notes for the address.
"2257 W Aspen"
"I'll be there in fifteen minutes."
"Fifteen?!" Betty demanded, but he'd already hung up. She wasn't sure she could stand another fifteen minutes with Jughead. She wasn't sure she could handle another three.
When she pulled the door open, Jughead was just on the other side with his fist raised to knock and they both jumped.
"Jesus!" Betty shrieked, stumbling back."
"Shit, sorry. I was just seeing if you're alright."
"Yeah," she stammered, side-stepping around him and backing toward the door. "But, you know, something came up and I gotta go."
"What? What came up while you were on the toilet?"
"I just—something with a friend, needs my help. It's kinda urgent, so." She was taking her coat down from the hook by the door and shoving her arms into it as Jughead narrowed his eyes.
She recognized the frustration on his face, in the flare of his nostrils and his open mouth, one foot extended out to the side, but he didn't try to stop her.
"Alright, sure. Well I hope your friend's okay."
"Yeah, thanks," Betty answered, pulling the door open behind her. "It'll all work out. Good to see you!" she lied, and congratulated herself on the World's Speediest Exit as she jogged down the wooden stairs and out into the street, around the building to wait for Sweet Pea in the alley. Maybe the exit had been obvious and uncouth, but she was out of that room, away from Jughead, sucking in crisp, morning air to flush him out of her system, and that's all that mattered.
Betty leaned against the brick wall of the alley, her mouth watering at the smells roiling out of the brunch nook across from Jughead's. Through the window, she could see couples and groups of girlfriends eating at white, pressed tablecloths, pushing their food around on large, square plates. She swallowed down her hunger and looked away to survey the street, but there wasn't much else to see. She wondered what Jughead was doing just above her but shook the thought from her mind. Just as it was occurring to her that she should have met Sweet Pea around the corner where Jughead wouldn't see them, his bike came roaring around the corner. He left it idling but kicked the metal stand down as she hurried up to him, avoiding glancing up to Jughead's windows. Sweet Pea didn't say anything, but his face was serious as he held out a helmet to her. It was the kind that covered her entire head and had a dark visor that came down over the face, so once she was crammed into it and gripping Sweet Pea's waist, she risked a glance upwards. She couldn't be sure, but thought she saw the twitch of the wooden blinds slipping back together. It didn't matter anymore—what did she care what Jughead thought? What did it really matter that anyone saw her and Sweet Pea together?
His leg shifted against her to fold up the kick stand and then he backed them carefully back into the road and they sped off down Aspen street.
The enormous growl of the bike kept Betty from having to explain anything, but at the first read light Sweet Pea called over his shoulder.
"Where to?"
Betty didn't feel like she could ask him to drive her all the way home. She had intended to call a car to come for her at Jughead's but had panicked and called Sweet Pea instead.
"Can we go to your place?" she shouted over the engine.
Sweet Pea hesitated. "I'm not sure my place is quite up to Betty Cooper standards," he answered loudly.
"It's fine, Sweets, I'm sure it's great," Betty argued, but truthfully she had no idea what to expect.
The light turned green and they got going again, but Sweet Pea bellowed back to her, "you sure you don't want me to take you home?"
"It's too far," Betty yelled. Sweet Pea waited for another red light.
"It's not too far; it's no problem."
"Please, Sweets, just take me to your place?"
Sweet Pea lifted one hand from the handlebars and wrapped it over the arm encircling his waist, then squeezed.
"Okay," he agreed, and turned right at the light instead of going straight.
It didn't take them eight minutes to get to the Southside, and shortly after they rumbled up to an old white house.
"Did I wake you up?" Betty asked as it occurred to her what time it was and why Sweet Pea might have needed extra time to pick her up.
"Uh, kinda," he said, waiting for her before swinging off the bike himself. He glanced up at the house before lowering his eyes and leading her up to the front door, which was unlocked. Before they walked in, he stopped her.
"I live with roommates," he said.
"Okay?"
"Some guys from the Serpents."
"So what? I don't have a problem with the Serpents."
He started to say something else but opened the door instead and they went into a dim, dingy living room with blackout curtains over the windows so that it took Betty's eyes an extra minute to adjust.
There was too much furniture crammed into the space, like they had friends over a lot and didn't care much about feng shui. Betty could see a kitchen off in the back and there was a dining room to the left which had a long table and mismatched chairs. Sweet Pea reached back for her hand and she followed him upstairs, down the hall to the last door on the right, which was his room. He closed the door behind them and turned on her anxiously, watching her survey the room—the sagging bed, messy and unmade; the old posters on the walls; the open dresser drawers spitting up dark clothes.
Betty took it all in and then smiled at him.
"It's very 'you'."
Sweet Pea laughed.
"Should that offend me?"
"Not at all. Thank you for letting me come here. Sorry I kinda sprung it on you."
Sweet Pea tossed his keys and wallet onto the dresser and flopped onto the bed. Betty, unsure of herself in a strange room, remained standing, continued turning to take it all in.
"I meant not to call you again," she said.
"I know," he answered, watching her. His dark eyes were tight on her face and she pretended not to notice.
Betty stilled and looked at Sweet Pea, smiling, tipping her head endearingly to the side. They were silent for a moment. Sweet Pea propped himself up on his elbows and reached for her, pulling her down on top of him. Betty was laughing, rolling to his side, settling her hand under her cheek to look at him from the other pillow.
"I'm glad you called."
"Yeah?"
"You know I'm always glad when you call."
She smiled appreciatively.
"I didn't stay there, you know," she said, after a pause.
"Stay where?"
"With Jughead. I wasn't there last night. I went over this morning. Maybe twenty minutes before I called you."
The relief on his face was unmistakable. She reached out and pressed the length of her hand to his warm cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned into it.
"I was pretty sure you'd fucked last night."
"I know."
"And that you woke up this morning and felt smothered and had to get the fuck out of there."
"Well, part of that is true."
"I'm glad it's that part that's true."
"Yeah?"
Sweet Pea draped his arm over the curve of her hip and rubbed his thumb against her back.
"So what did he say that set you off?"
"Nothing really," Betty answered, shifting her eyes away and dropping her hand from his face, tucking it back under her own face with the other. "I just didn't want to be there anymore."
"I get that."
Betty closed her eyes and nestled deeper into the pillow. She froze.
Not opening her eyes, she asked casually, "who did I interrupt you with?"
"Uh," Sweet Pea stammered, "what?"
Betty looked up at him.
"Your sheets smell like perfume."
He licked his lips and laughed once, a gust of breath, his mouth hanging open wordlessly. Betty laughed, but for real, and put her hand over the arm which was suddenly vice-like around her waist.
"It's fine, Sweets, I'm just asking. I'm glad you have someone."
"Yeah? I figured you wouldn't like it."
"Why not?"
"I mean, women just usually don't."
"Oh," Betty smiled tightly. "Well it's cool with me. We aren't 'official' or anything. No big deal."
"Betty," Sweet Pea propped up on his elbow and leaned in earnestly. "I thought we weren't going to see each other again. She came over last night for the first time in a long time. I swear. And we were too drunk to even do anything, nothing happened between us."
Betty raised an eyebrow.
"This mystery girl slept in your bed last night but you didn't have sex?"
"Yes, I know. But seriously. We had been at the Whyte Wyrm, we'd had a few too many drinks. Nothing happened."
"Yeah, okay, okay. I believe you."
"Good."
Sweet Pea settled onto his back and pulled Betty into his side. She pressed her cheek into his shirt and breathed in smoke and the tang of beer. She wrapped her arm over him, her hand just reaching the other side of his torso. His arm trailed down her side.
"I hadn't been with her like that in a long time," he said softly.
"I believe you."
"Not since we'd been seeing each other a lot."
"I never asked you not to see other people, Sweets, I'm not mad. Why would I be? We're not 'a thing,' we never were."
He was silent. Betty looked across at the back of his closed door, the Fight Club poster tacked against it.
"Who is she?" she asked presently.
"Who?"
"You know who. This other girl."
"No one."
"Sweet Pea, come on. I'm just curious."
"No, no," laughter rumbled under Betty's ear. "I'm no idiot. She's not important. I got her out as soon as you called."
Betty stiffened. "She was still here when I called you? You had to kick her out?"
"Well yeah, you did kinda wake me up. We were out late, remember?"
"So...would you have had sex this morning, when you both woke up?"
His shoulders shrugged beneath her.
"If we were up to it. If we weren't too hungover."
They were quiet again.
"I'm sorry," Betty whispered, tucking her face down into his side. "That I fucked that up for you."
"Don't be," Sweet Pea answered. "I'd rather be with you anyway."