Ronnie crossed one long leg over the other, a light caramel color that Betty could not understand as she looked down at her own legs, whiter than snow. In the glaring sunlight she became even more aware of their differences. Veronica, colorful and angular with a black swim suit that covered her already perfect skin in black mesh blocks leaving what lay beneath a suggestion rather than obvious. Betty looked down at her own suit, a baby blue bikini she had settled on at the store with Veronica earlier in the week. It was modest, as bikinis went, though she still felt exposed looking down at her own small belly button, her torso just as white as her legs, the brightest of flesh. She gripped the towel she was sitting on tighter, unable to relax completely in the lounge chair by the pool.
In front of her Archie and Reggie were pushing each other into the pool from the edge, falling sideways into the awaiting water with large splashes. Ronnie grimaced as the water dared to trace the edges of her baking sun.
"Enjoy it now, boys, this looks like the last good day we'll have for a while," she called and turned to Betty through shaded eyes.
"Didn't we get you a cover up?" she asked and Betty looked down at her own skin, even more flush now with embarrassment.
"I think we might have in one of the bags…" she trailed but Ronnie shook her head.
"No, silly, you look great but you're going to burn. You're made of paper. Here," she said and handed Betty the bottle of sunblock. "Jughead, come do Betty's back!" Ronnie called and she eyed Betty quickly with a devilish raise of her eyebrows. Betty rolled her own eyes.
Jughead was in the seats adjacent to them, his eyes covered with his own sunglasses, black t-shirt and shorts in place. Betty could only surmise he was melting beneath them as the sun was fantastically warm today, even she could not resist the invitation to join them. He did not raise his head, only turned it to her slightly before sighing.
"You're usually much more subtle at your plotting, Veronica," he answered. She shrugged.
"No plotting. I just did my nails, they're still wet," she waved to him, her fingertips shining a red lacquer in the sunlight. Betty sat forward and emptied some of the block into her awaiting palm, rubbing it into the length of her arms again, though she could see it would do little to help now. Her shoulders were already a light pink.
"I'll get her!" Reggie called and pulled himself out of the pool by the ladder in two strides. Betty stopped, struck at the thought.
"Oh no, I'm fine. See I can reach everything anyway," she stated but he was already sauntering towards her, his tall frame and handsome smile blinding as the water flecked off of his stomach and arms. Betty had never given Reggie much thought in the two or three encounters she had with him. Not that there wasn't much to consider – he had the body of a surfer and the smile of a Manhattan billboard model – but she had always assumed that was all he was.
"Nonsense, I'll get your back."
Jughead sighed heavily and moved to sit up. "Don't accost the girl, Reggie, can't you see she's afraid of Neanderthals?" Jughead called, motioning to stand.
"Don't trouble yourself, Juggie dear. She's in good hands. Reggie's hands," Ronnie quipped and with that she swiped the bottle from Betty and tossed it up into the air, landing in Reggie's awaiting palms. He flashed Betty one more smile before motioning for her to turn in her chair. She caught Jughead's eye for just a split second before turning hesitantly where she sat.
"Just my shoulders," she mumbled, "I think they're getting pretty burnt."
"You are made of paper, Casper," Reggie answered, his voice lower now with a laugh. She felt the chair give as he sat up close behind her and then the coolness of the liquid against her shoulders, across her shoulder blades. He was firm but kind as he swept across her skin, covering the expanse with his large hands.
"See now that," Ronnie mused loud enough for only Betty to hear, "Is plotting."
"Veronica…." Betty began under her breath.
"Shush, shush, I'm a genius," she whispered in response. "You can't see what I see."
"And what's that?"
"Potential." Betty turned her head enough to see Ronnie's eyes were trained across the pool at something out of Betty's eyesight. Whatever it was, she didn't like being a part of it. She could feel Reggie's hands move below the strap of her bikini with more cool liquid and she instinctually pulled forward.
"Ticklish, Snow White?" he asked.
"No just….I think that's good. Thank you so much." She turned her body away from him and saw he was smiling. He really was innocent, if nothing else, and he didn't move from his spot. She could see he was soaking her towel beneath him but he was oblivious.
"Betty, did you know Reggie dabbles in the guitar?" Ronnie asked and Betty smiled, feigning interest.
"I did not."
"Just a little. My uncle shows me some stuff when he has spare time."
"That's….really nice of him," Betty answered lamely.
"I could show you some stuff sometime," he offered. Betty's face froze in what she assumed was a grimace.
"On the guitar?"
"Yeah, you have nice hands," he said and he reached forward, not asking permission, pulling her own small hand in the mass of his own. He turned it over to look at her fingertips, "You could probably be great at guitar."
"Jesus Christ, Reg, does that line actually work at the bars?" Jughead called out from his chair. Betty looked over to see he was still laying back, sunglasses on, but that his head was turned in their direction. Reggie laughed.
"Every time brother," he called. Betty pulled her own hand away again, clearly uncomfortable.
"He shoots he scores," Archie said, as he approached also sopping wet from head to toe. He leaned over Veronica to plant a kiss on her lips, dripping water on her as she sat.
"Archiekins, darling, this is Bebe," she said with a kind push away.
"It's a bathing suit. It's supposed to get wet."
"You are precious, but no, it's not. And also, that's a great idea," she said, turning towards Betty and Reggie in their shared seat.
"What's a great idea?" Betty asked, afraid to even inquire.
"The bar. Tonight. We're going out. We've got plenty of time to get ready and I have this amazing new Michael Kohrs you're going to love. And if you hate it, I don't care because my closet is full of one billion other things. It'll be fabulous."
"But I have"-
"No work tonight. We've already talked about this. Plus you had one hell of a nap into this afternoon if I'm not mistaken," Ronnie teased lightly. Betty could feel the blush in her face as it reached the tips of her ears.
Yes, maybe they had taken one or more naps together since that first time. Betty could not explain it, could not even begin to understand why it was comfortable to sleep pressed up against the boy who seemed to want nothing more from her since that very first night. He was comfortable to read with her, to talk about terrible television with her, to wait up for her now on more than one occasion and to adapt to her schedule simply for the sake of sleeping on her impossible small couch for hours on end with no other motive. Every morning he left after a cup of coffee and a wave. That was it. That was all it was.
Until Veronica had caught them two days ago, surprising Betty for another impromptu shopping trip. And while she didn't push, since Betty was so clearly not giving up any answers, she had developed a motive all of her own Betty was only becoming very aware of these past few days. Plotting, Jughead had called it. Yes, Betty mused, that did seem to fit the bill.
Jughead shook his head in the distance, turning back to the afternoon sun.
"Bar hopping three nights a week is my limit, Ronnie, no thanks, "he called. Ronnie waved him off.
"Please, like we need you to have a good time. You'd ruin it anyway with your lengthy diatribes on how Calvin Harris cannot begin to comprehend real music"-
"IT'S NOT MUSIC. IT'S SOUNDS," Jughead argued and Betty felt a laugh come to her mouth, which she covered with her fingertips.
"You're sounds. We're going without you, you boob," Ronnie snapped back. She turned to Betty.
"We need to shower. And get ready. At my house." Ronnie instructed and she pointed to her handbag turning to Archie.
"Love?" she asked. He sighed and picked it up, throwing it over his shoulder.
"Well, we know I'm in," Reggie clapped his hands together.
"I'm counting on it," Veronica smiled at him. Betty eyed her suspiciously.
"I should go change…" she began, heading back to the cottage.
"Underwear, if you must," Ronnie called with a laugh and Betty shook her head, collecting her now wet towel behind her as she went so as to cover herself. She disappeared into the small cottage and emerged with a small bag with essentials inside she thought she'd need.
"Excited?" Ronnie asked with a wide smile, her cover up in place as they walked towards her awaiting car. Betty watched as Jughead ambled back to the main house without so much as a glance in her direction.
"Sure," she finally answered, getting into the back seat behind her. "Why not."
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"To say you're a spring would be an understatement," Veronica mused to herself as she applied a light sheen of blush to Betty's cheeks. The touch was incredibly soft, almost as if she couldn't feel it. Betty closed her eyes and tried to relax at whatever creation Ronnie was envisioning for her tonight.
"I don't usually wear make up," Betty answered.
"Girl, you don't have to tell me. This skin is untouched. It's perfection. You don't have a pimple in sight, I would kill for this skin," she said and she used one fingertip to turn Betty's chin in one direction, then the other lightly.
"It's just skin," she said with a small smile. She didn't know how to respond to a compliment for an attribute she could not control. Being smart, sure, thank you. Being quick witted or light on her feet – maybe. Being pretty? Betty didn't even know if that constituted a thank you.
"Close," Ronnie instructed and Betty fluttered her eyelashes shut. She felt the tip of a brush in the outer corners and when instructed, opened them again to look directly into Ronnie's eyes who appeared to be staring through her, inspecting her own work. She motioned for her to close again, dipping her brush back into a palette of colors Betty didn't even know existed in ROYGBIV and continued her work.
"Can I ask a question?" Ronnie asked as she worked.
"I'm afraid if I say no, you'll ask anyway."
"We are getting to know each other so well already, doll," Ronnie laughed. Betty felt the light press of a lip pencil against her upper lip and tightened slightly.
"So this thing with Jughead is like…what exactly," she began and Betty sighed through her nose.
"There's no thing with Jughead."
"Betty, if we're going to be friends you don't have to tell me everything. Everyone's entitled to their secrets. But, you do have to tell me some stuff," she continued. The light press against her lower lip of a lip wand and a smooth gloss continued. Betty parted her mouth slightly, talking through Ronnie's hard work.
"We just sleep together. Not like, sleep together but sleep. I don't know. It just happened on accident and I can't—it doesn't bother….I mean, he seems"—
"Betty, Betty. You're acting like you're doing something wrong. Taking a nap with a boy is not bad. Why are you stressing?" she asked, pulling back. Betty looked up at her for a second, into her honest eyes awaiting her answer.
"I'm not. I'm not stressing," she finally answered, shaking her head. "I'm just saying. I thought he hated me. He wanted me gone and now…"
"No he so does not want you gone," Ronnie answered with a laugh.
"He just sits up and waits for me to get home. And he's different when it's just us. I mean, I don't know what it's like when I'm not around but when it's him and I, it's…easy or something…"
"When you're not around it's like someone stuck a fork in his eye and they expect him to still have fun. But then again, Jughead has always been a little too unbearable for my taste. We're just different."
"It's friendship. We're both just lonely people living by ourselves and in a few weeks he's going to find a girl or a friend. It'll end. It's just for now."
"Oh, you don't know anything about Jughead at all, do you?" Ronnie asked and she touched the ends of Betty's lashes with a mascara wand.
"What do you mean?"
"Jughead and girls. I mean, he's a man I think? But I've never seen Jughead with a girlfriend since Cheryl and let's be honest, that did not end well. I honestly thought these past few years that Jughead would be better off alone."
"I think that kind of plays into exactly what I'm saying," Betty answered slowly. She wanted to ask who Cheryl was, when Cheryl was, but stopped herself short.
"No, uh uh. This is different. Jughead doesn't talk to girls at bars. He doesn't flirt with girls at restaurants or when he's out with his friends. He was in Europe for the better part of the year and did he take advantage of the swarming throngs of groupies awaiting for his daddy? Don't you think the Son is the next best thing to Daddy? Like he couldn't have his pick?" she asked. Betty shrugged, unsure of what she was getting at.
"I'm saying, Betty that Jughead doesn't take naps with random girls. He doesn't want a girl to see his bedroom or touch his ugly, dirty beanie cap. And yet, you get here and less than a week later he's like…sharing his innermost space?"
"I think you're reading a lot into this," Betty answered.
"I think you're in denial. Here," Ronnie answered, holding up a hand mirror. Betty flashed it in front of her face, taking in the black lightly lined eyes and the thick lashes, the sweeping silver that covered her eyelids. Her lips, a juicy pink against her fair skin. She felt unrecognizable. It was almost thrilling. Betty smiled in appreciation.
"I don't recognize myself," she said and Ronnie clasped her hands together in excitement.
"We're not done yet. This," she proceeded to grab a hanger from her king sized bed, pulling it in Betty's eye line, "is the piece de resistance."
"Where's the rest of it?" Betty asked. Ronnie's tinkled laughter filled the room.
"It's understated," she answered. Betty shook her head.
"Are there pants?"
"Pants? It's a dress!"
"It's a handkerchief."
"It's designer."
"Designed by a blind man. Veronica, what covers my….."
"You can say vagina. I won't tell, Elizabeth Cooper." Betty blushed and shook her head adamantly.
"I wasn't going to say that."
"Say it" Ronnie prodded with excitement. "Just say it."
"Ronnie. Find the other half of that dress."
"You haven't even tried it on yet!"
"There's nothing to try on."
"Betty. Go," Ronnie said and pointed to the bathroom. Betty slowly took the hanger with the white sheath hanging from it in her fingertips to the bathroom locking herself within.
It was tight. She didn't know how else to describe it. It came off her shoulders revealing her collarbone, hugging down her torso in a cross pattern of pure white fabric so silky and soft she couldn't help but run her fingers across her abdomen. It came to her mid-thigh and she had to force herself to turn slowly, assessing her own derriere in the bathroom mirror. Yes, there it was, on full display, encased in skin tight white material.
"Come out."
"No. I look a nurse from a porn film."
"We'll talk about your porn habit later, I'm dying to see it."
Betty unlocked the door and stepped out, pulling her faintly curled blonde locks to one side over her shoulder. Veronica's face lit up slowly, the way an old fashioned lightbulb comes to life, it's golden stem radiating within. She was changed into her a gold number that hung from spaghetti straps at her shoulders, hugging her frame but not quite so obviously.
"How come you get to wear that?" Betty asked, pointedly as the bottom of Ronnie's dress swayed with her steps forward, pulling the material around Betty's body to fit perfectly.
"I'm not trying to catch anyone tonight," Ronnie answered. "I'm caught."
"I'm not trying to catch anyone either," Betty countered to which Veronica raised one perfectly arched brow.
"All I'm saying is, let's go fishing. See what's in the water."
"I can't stand your metaphors."
"Darling, I'm the best thing to ever happen to you," she answered, placing one faint kiss with the side of her lips against Betty's cheek.
Betty reached out and grabbed the small clutch Ronnie had lent her that contained her key, her phone and a few cards and cash inside. She felt so naked, so without. She wished she was wearing nurse's scrubs or laying around her cottage in her pajamas.
"I don't know why you think it's worth all of this. You're convinced that this is a thing with Jughead, and yet Jughead is not even coming out tonight."
"Oh you know less about boys than Jughead does about girls. I'm just going to have to hand hold this entire thing, aren't I?" she asked, amused with herself, grabbing her own purse and holding her bedroom door open for Betty. "He'll be there."
"But he said"-
"Yeah, that doesn't mean anything. Reggie will be there. Trust me, Juggy will be there."
"What does Reggie have to do with anything?"
"Only everything, muffin. Just watch and learn." Ronnie said as she started down the grand stair case of her house, Betty close in tow. She could only imagine the shoes Ronnie was about to cram her feet into. She pulled at the hem of the dress with each stair, feeling it rise slightly the entire way down. It was going to be an incredibly long night, she could already tell. She never should have agreed to this. She never should have said yes to Ronnie, let herself be talked into a makeover of all the stupid and childish things.
"Here," Ronnie said and she held out a pair of bright pink pumps, the heel inches taller than Betty could have ever dreaded in her nightmares.
"Every fisherman needs his pole," she said, not waiting for Betty to answer, shoving them into her hand, her dazzling smile shining into the night as she opened the front door leading the way.