"Pass the salad Betty?"
Betty obliged, handing over the bowl of greens to Veronica. Together with Katelyn, they'd finally succeeded in meeting after dinner for work, albeit over a week after they'd initially intended to do so. Finding a time that worked for all three of them had proved difficult.
"And so anyway," Veronica said, resuming her story as she helped herself to more salad, "I just cannot deal with Jughead anymore. It's too much. It's like when you spend too much time with your family and suddenly every single little thing they do starts to annoy you. Even their breathing. And then you're just grumpy all the time."
Katelyn nodded imploringly. "Tell me about it. As someone who recently moved back in with family after college, I empathize, truly. Maybe you should politely ask him to leave, and then I can move in?" she laughed, not entirely joking.
Veronica appeared to genuinely consider this for a moment, even going so far as to look quite satisfied at the idea. And then she shook her head. "Believe me," she said. "Right now, there is nothing more appealing. But no, I couldn't do that to him."
"Meh," said Katelyn flippantly. "I'm sure he could find some other unsuspecting roommates and talk them into accommodating him."
This was undoubtedly true. Betty had always been intrigued by Veronica's loyalty to Jughead. She'd thought at first it was derived purely from him being her boyfriend's best friend. But increasingly, she felt there was something she was missing.
"Why wouldn't you be able to do that?" Betty asked, curiosity getting the better of her guilt about snooping.
Veronica put down her fork. "Because he trusts me," she said simply. "He's had a lot of people walk out on him in his life, and he's dealt with some heavy stuff. He's not very trusting in general as a result of that, and I can see why. I would feel bad." She shrugged, but Betty knew that she meant what she said.
"His parents?" Katelyn questioned.
Veronica nodded. "Yeah. His dad's in jail and his mom left when he was quite little. He doesn't speak with either of them, as I understand it. He does have a little sister and niece. I haven't seen much of them recently, but I do know he sends them money. They live with his mom."
Katelyn looked taken aback. Betty was starting to feel a little uncomfortable about having this conversation in Jughead's absence, but still found herself wondering how someone who had clearly had a hard run of life could remain such a genuine, good person. Beneath his gregarious exterior, he was all kindness and optimism and quiet confidence.
"Archie and I are his family," Veronica finished. "Not Betty, though" she added smirking in Betty's direction. "Jughead is in love with Betty. I can tell."
Betty felt herself go bright red and gave Veronica a deploring look.
"Ah yes," Katelyn said, seizing this piece of information with renewed vigour. "And how is that going?"
"Katelyn," Betty winced. "You always ask that!"
"That's because I feel it needs to be addressed. And thus, how is it going?"
Betty looked up at the ceiling, resolutely avoiding both of them, but knowing at least that Veronica had nothing to report.
"It's not," Veronica said flatly.
Wrong.
"Like, if I hadn't been so annoyed at him recently I might have been able to something about it," she continued.
Wrong, again.
Veronica sighed. "I suppose he'll get it together eventually."
Would he, though?
"Well," said Katelyn, finishing the last of her drink. "He better act fast. Betty doesn't have all year. Tell him she's got options."
Betty buried her face in her arms, willing this conversation to be over. She wasn't sure whether she was more nervous about her love life being a focus point or the thinly veiled secret she'd been keeping now for some weeks. It was still astonishing to her that Veronica and Archie hadn't caught on. Particularly Veronica, and especially after the incident in the kitchen last week. Although, now that Veronica had aired the full extent of her frustration with him lately, perhaps her blissful ignorance was a little more easily explained.
Most of what Betty had taken from all of this was that Veronica hadn't watched enough episodes of F.R.I.E.N.D.S in her life. For that she was simultaneously grateful and disapproving.
"I just copied Chandler," Jughead had said to her a short time afterwards.
"I know," Betty had retorted. "You're not very original."
As with many things, their narrow escape had seemed to go to Jughead's head a little. Initially also disbelieving that Veronica hadn't caught on, he had spent the ensuing days basking in his own success.
"Sometimes I feel how everyone feels," he told them after work several days later, "which is that I could be the star of a very successful sitcom."
Betty had not found this comment particularly discrete. It was made worse by the fact that she was starting to wonder if it was true. It was fundamentally awkward to be involved in a secret-possible-maybe-relationship with one's roommate, but such fodder would undoubtedly provide amusement for others. The overall outcome of all of this was that the two of them really hadn't spent as much time together alone in the last week. It was disappointing.
"Betty, it's okay!" She heard Veronica giggling. "We'll stop teasing."
Betty remerged from her arms, looking resentful.
"I have to get going, anyway," said Katelyn, reaching for her bag. "This has been real. Let's do it again sometime."
She hugged Veronica and Betty goodbye and turned to leave. "Betty, I'll see you at work tomorrow. Peace out."
Betty felt her stomach churn slightly at the thought of work tomorrow, and the meeting she'd organised with her manager.
Veronica stared after Katelyn thoughtfully as both of them gathered their things to leave. "She's so different to you, Betty," she observed.
"I know."
Betty knew that Veronica didn't mean it in a bad way. But at times Betty was painfully aware of this. Katelyn's brimming confidence, bubbly personality and amicable chatter were just some of the things that set the two of them apart. Betty frequently found herself wondering how it was that the two of them were even friends. The reality was that the only thing they had in common was the same job. As much as she enjoyed spending time with Katelyn, Betty didn't like second guessing everything. Of late, she had found herself wondering whether she just liked the idea of being friends with someone from work. The feeling of belonging.
More disconcerting to think about, was what it was that Katelyn liked about her?
The funny thing about leaving college was that you suddenly had to make a whole new group of friends. It was also much harder to find them; to find people who were your age, and who shared your interests and who needed you as much as you needed them.
Unless, of course, you happened to stumble upon a pre-established group of roommates with several years of history, who were willing to induct you.
Betty had been fairly lucky thus far, but it didn't make figuring it all out going forward any easier.
The door was ajar, but Betty knocked first anyway.
"Come in?"
Betty pushed it open a little and stepped into the senior editor's office. "Hi Eleanor. Do you have a moment?"
"Of course, Betty. Come in."
Betty pushed the door closed behind her. Eleanor was sitting at her desk, but spun around on her chair and wheeled over to a small table in the corner of her office. She was tall with dark hair and distinctive glasses. Betty had found her intimidating from the outset, not aided by the fact that her manner was brisk and efficient.
"Take a seat," Eleanor said, gesturing at an empty chair and giving her a piercing gaze. "How can I help?"
Betty pressed her lips together nervously, and summonsed all of her courage. Or rather, what was left of it these days. "Sorry. I know you're busy. I just wanted to talk about the assignment you gave me last week. I've been…struggling a little bit. And I was hoping you could please give me a bit more... guidance."
Betty paused, her breathing a little shallow. She was genuinely unsure what Eleanor's response to this was going to be. But the project was casting a dark shadow of uncertainty and self-doubt over almost every aspect of her life. It had been following her around all week, and the situation was getting dire. She'd run out of options, and perhaps Jughead's suggestion to actually vocalise the issue had been prudent. There was only one way to find out.
Eleanor looked at her very intently for a moment, and then folded her hands across her lap. "That's understandable. It's a difficult subject matter," came her response. "If you'd like, I can assign a more experienced junior to assist you with it. Would that be helpful?"
Betty felt oddly disbelieving at being presented with a solution to this hitherto seemingly impossible task. "Ahh," she stuttered. "That would be…really helpful. Thank you. I would appreciate that."
Eleanor smiled at her. "You're welcome. And Betty, next time you find something challenging, be sure to come and ask for help sooner. You don't have to apologise, either." Her tone was warmer now.
"Okay. Thank you."
"How is everything else going?"
Betty opened her mouth to tell her it was all going very well and also thank you very much, because that was her automatic response to everything. But then she paused and thought about it a moment longer. "It's okay," she said hesitantly. "I do feel like I'm struggling a bit, though."
Eleanor nodded thoughtfully. "You really shouldn't," she said. "You're doing a great job, Betty. We don't expect you to know everything. There will be times when you need some assistance, and that's okay. Alas, we don't learn anything unless we are a bit uncomfortable at times."
Betty smiled politely, wondering how to explain that her level of discomfort was so high it was stopping her from learning anything at all.
Eleanor took off her glasses and placed them on the table in front of them. "What I would suggest, though, is that you relax your expectations of yourself a little."
Betty frowned, a little confused.
Eleanor's expression softened. "We don't want you to be unhappy at work. You have a lot of potential Betty, you need only be a little kinder to yourself. I have a daughter who is very like you. I have tremendous admiration for her dedication and work ethic, but I worry that the expectations she sets for herself are so high they're unachievable. It's not necessary to put that kind of pressure on yourself. It just makes everything harder. The transition from college to full time employment is difficult enough as it as, and, like I said, you're doing well."
Betty's felt her lip wobble a little, trying to process this unexpected but not entirely unwelcome development in her day. She nodded slowly, and swallowed. "Ahh, okay," she breathed out. "Thank you very much. I'll keep that in mind."
It was true. She would.
Eleanor picked her glasses back up and put them on, and Betty recognised the conversation as having come to an end. She smiled at Eleanor and stood up, crossing back over to the door. She waited for a moment before opening it.
"Eleanor?"
The senior editor looked back up from her desk, eyebrows raised expectantly.
"Do you have to tell graduates this often?"
"No." Eleanor paused. "But someone once had to say it to me. So I'm always on the look out."
Betty smiled as she closed the door behind her, and in that moment a weight she had been carrying around on her shoulders for some time now, lifted noticeably. It was curious how you could build up a fear of someone or something in your head, only to discover how very wrong you had been.
It was the people you hardly knew that could change your life the most dramatically. Not your friends, and not your family. The people that saw things as they really were. The people that could talk objectively when you couldn't apply that kind of rationality yourself.
Betty sat back down at her desk at looked at the file, now knowing she had all anyone ever needed to make anything happen.
A plan, and not quite enough time.
"Where are Veronica and Archie?"
Jughead was standing the kitchen sink washing dishes when she arrived home. "What…I'm not enough?" he said in mock offence.
Betty rolled her eyes, dropping her bags and collapsing down on the L shaped couch. "I'm serious, where are they?"
"At a Lodge work function."
"Oh."
Betty watched him tidy the rest of the kitchen counter. He put some glasses away in the cupboard, straightened Veronica's blender and reorganised some magnets on the refrigerator. He had just finished replenishing the fruit bowl when Betty stood up and walked over to the kitchen. Without any warning, she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly. He stood there motionless, his arms trapped by his sides, perhaps a little alarmed by the abruptness of this. Betty buried her face in his t-shirt, and didn't say anything.
"Is everything okay?"
She could hear concern in his voice. Betty nodded into his shoulder. "Yes," she replied, her voice muffled. "I talked to my editor."
"Sorry?"
"At work. I asked for help."
Jughead didn't say anything for a moment, but his silence felt significant. She felt him move slightly against her and she loosened her hold a little. He lifted his arms from his sides and wrapped them around her shoulders, resting his chin on the top of her head. "Well done."
"It wasn't even that bad," Betty said, still surprised by this.
Jughead chuckled slightly, and Betty felt it reverberate against her. "I know," he said softly. There was a pause, and then seemingly unable to help it, he added "I told you."
Betty pulled back and looked up at him to reprimand his smug tone.
"I'm kidding," he said hastily. "I don't know anything. I told you nothing."
Betty giggled. She let go of him and stepped back, hopping up to sit on the counter he'd just cleared, her legs swinging casually.
"What did she say?" His voice was careful.
Betty thought about this a moment, wondering how to summarise Eleanor's words. "That I shouldn't worry. That I should ask if I need more help. And that I should be…less hard on myself."
Jughead smiled. "All astute things."
"Yes."
"Although," he continued, "I'd imagine not altogether easy to establish."
"No."
Betty fidgeted uncomfortably. "I am inherently very anxious. Just in general. And it's a problem."
Jughead nodded. He seemed to understand implicitly. He did not, however, seem surprised. Betty wasn't sure she'd articulated this clearly enough for him to grasp the full extent of her situation, but she was relieved to have finally said something out loud anyway. It was a new feeling to vocalise this, to decide to share more than met the eye. Even the parts of herself she didn't like very much.
"It's getting easier," she added. "But I still have some things to figure out."
"Most people do."
It sounded so simple when he said it. Betty could tell he was including himself in this statement. The admission in itself was reassuring.
Jughead reached over and sorted through the fruit bowl he'd just replenished, selecting and holding in his hands what Betty counted to be five mandarins. "Would you like to see a spectacular visual representation of your life right now?"
Betty looked wary, but Jughead opted to take that as a yes. And then Betty's mouth fell open in amazement as he started juggling; all five mandarins cycling rhythmically through the air in perfect arcs. She watched, transfixed, as he juggled her graduate job, the apartment, her new friends, her hopes and her fears all right there in front of her. And all the while he ambled around the kitchen, looking casual while still concentrating intently.
Betty heard the apartment door open and the sound of voices approaching. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Veronica and Archie enter the room. Neither of them said anything. Instead both of them sat up at the breakfast bar and watched. While also transfixed, Betty got the impression it was not the first time they'd witnessed this. Jughead continued his act for a few moments longer, before catching all five mandarins with a final flourish.
He turned to Veronica and Archie. "Welcome." He tossed two mandarins at Archie, who caught them both and passed one to Veronica.
Veronica watched Archie peel his and start eating it. "Did you drop this?" she asked Jughead pointedly.
"No."
Veronica looked reassured, and started peeling her mandarin.
Jughead turned back to Betty, who was still perched on the counter. "But the point is," he said, holding a mandarin out to her, "would it matter if I did?"
"Yes," Veronica interjected flatly, missing the point entirely.
Jughead didn't acknowledge her, instead smiling knowingly at Betty. Betty reached out to take the piece of fruit. As she did so, she shook her head in answer to his question.
Because he was right.
It didn't really matter. The reality was she couldn't control everything. And even though she knew that, really, deep down inside, it always helped to have someone remind her.
Thank you for reading! If you're enjoying this, I would love to hear from you. Will continue to update this as and when I have time, but if you're interested the remaining 10 chapters and the sequel are already available on AO3 if you search findingbetty! xx
