"See? A little luxury heals all woes."
Betty continued to stare at her feet, which were in a tiny, bubbling tub. A hint of something - lavender, maybe - wafted upward and made her nose itch. Veronica and Kevin had cajoled her into a sleepover at the Pembrooke, complete with an in-home spa session. Their nails would be manicured next, then came the massages. Betty wasn't looking forward to any of it, especially not having some strange woman's hands all over her body, but she tried to curb her misery. Her friends were making the effort one might expect of best friends and Betty was attempting to act in kind. Never mind that Jughead had held the position of 'best friend' for some time, she thought as she half-listened to her friends chatter about Junior Prom. All she wanted was to be riding around in his truck, settled happily under his arm.
The details of their fight, and what read as a subsequent break-up, with few. That's how Betty had wanted it. She had kept things from him, she'd told Veronica, who automatically assumed Jughead to be a complete villain in the matter. If Kevin knew more because of his own Southside Serpent connections, he was keeping that information to himself. Betty knew she deserved Jughead's silence, and maybe some of his anger. Even if it did feel like she was being persecuted for experiencing her sexuality, Betty was aware that she held partial fault in her own fate.
Betty lifted her chin, minutely aware that the conversation had slowed and Kevin and Veronica had zeroed in on her. "What are you guys talking about?"
"You're dress for prom." Veronica's eyes were practically alight with excitement. "I was thinking something pale blue. It would set off your eyes and pair well with your complexion."
The implication in Veronica's tone - so matter-of-fact, like the decisions had been made on her behalf - rubbed Betty the wrong way. Both hands clenched in her lap. "I'm not going to prom."
Veronica turned in her chair, first to glance at Kevin. When he offered her little more than a shrug in the way of support, Veronica redirected her attention to Betty. Her body language suggesting her had anticipated this response and had all of her counterarguments prepared. "Look, Betty, I know that..."
The words felt like white hot soup being poured on Betty's brain, each feeling blurrier and more horrible as her anger rose. It didn't matter what she wanted, how she felt. She was being forced into a stupid dance whether she liked it or not. The same thing with this separation from Jughead - she'd never been given a choice in the matter. Her mother, her friends...everyone. Even Jughead was trying to make her life something it was definitely not, or something she didn't want. And there was no outlet, no release.
Warmth slithered against her palm, a single trickle of blood falling and staining the edge of her denim skirt. New cuts had opened as she dug deep for control, and she could barely handle her own words when she tracked that Veronica's had stopped.
"I'm going." She sloshed water out of the little tub as she stood and groped around for her shoes.
"Going?"
A dark laugh rose in her, a response to Veronica's confusion, but Betty tamped it down. She didn't want to hurt her friend, no matter how oblivious she could be at times. "Yes, as in leaving. I'm leaving. Out the door, to my own house."
"But Betty…" Kevin objection was cut off by the cold cut of her face in the muted light of the room. She playing at drama, nor was she a cause either could hope to win. She wanted to be left on her own, to sort out her feelings as she chose.
The door to Veronica's apartment slammed softly behind her and she trudged through the building and out to the street with damp socks. The chill in the air caused her to pull her collar tight at her neck as she eyed the street for a sign of life. Her phone pressed against her hip as she walked, tempting her to send a text like she had the first day she'd met Jughead. Would he respond, even knowing it was her, if it meant a ride commission? The thought of being another fee, another number, depressed Betty and she continued her walk until the dusky horizon opened up to Pop's.
Jughead bounced on his heels, a small cloud of air streaming away from his lips. The cold of impending night would have been a deterrent for anyone, and Jughead was aware that he already looked out of place standing on the stoop of a nice house, in a nice Northside neighborhood. Still, he had to fix what he'd let lay broken for weeks. He had to give Betty the opportunity to explain her actions, her choices that he'd taken from her the last time they'd been together. It wasn't fair that he had made her wait this long, that much he knew, and he was prepared for her to slam the door in his face, or not open it at all when she saw him through the peephole. Not everything was going to be on his terms. He'd come to that conclusion far too recently, which he considered far too late. Betty deserved, if nothing else, a better friend than that. If she gave him the chance - the one he hadn't given her - he would tell her that, take his own fault in this falling out.
He had to believe that she would, because he had always believed she was better than him. The best of everyone, really. It drove him to knock, the red door painted with foreboding.
It would work somehow.
Then he was face to face with a petite blond who wasn't Betty.
The resemblance between them, along with the sharp cut of her disinterested stare, promised that this woman was Alice Cooper. A slight chill spread through Jughead and he stammered his way through an introduction.
"Oh… uh, hi." The crook of her dark eyebrow further shrank his courage. "Is Betty home?"
Her arms folded over her chest – did she really have to be hot on top of everything else? Jughead knew that the attractiveness of his girlfriend's mother should be the last thing on his mind but… it somehow made her more dangerous. "And what, may I ask, do you want with Betty?"
"I…she's a friend. I just wanted to talk to her. Maybe get a burger at Pop's." Jughead had never felt like such a lame duck in his life. Socializing had never been his strongest skill but he knew how to talk to people. And yet, he felt like an idiot standing there, slightly cold and incapable of complex words.
Alice's gaze was appraising, taking in his well-worn jeans and ratty beanie. Even his jacket, which was nice for used leather, seemed an inadequate defense of her scrutiny. Could she tell he was from the Southside, or worse a Serpent? She'd lived on his side of town, maybe that gave her a sense of his background just by looking at him.
"She's not home."
Abrupt. Final. Jughead had been thoroughly dismissed in less than five words.
"Could you… tell her I stopped?"
Alice's arms crossed over her chest, annoyance pulling at her features. But, Jughead realized, the door was still open. He still had her attention, and a chance.
"By the way you're looking at me, I can see your less than thrilled with whatever idea you have of me. But you should know… Betty is the best person I've ever known. Where most people see trash, she seems to see something worthwhile. And I feel that way around her."
A subtle casualty seemed to tick at the Alice's harsh facade. Almost as if to compliment her daughter was to compliment her but she would never fully commit to accepting it. "Elizabeth does have an annoying habit of giving people the benefit of the doubt."
"She's my best friend." Jughead forced himself to meet her gaze. "I just want to talk to her."
If Alice was capable of softness, Jughead thought he spotted something akin to it in the shift in the doorway and the slight relaxation of her features. "I'll try and remember to let her know. No promises though."
With a nod, Alice closed the door – not with a slam, Jughead noted – and he was on his own. F.P. had put a mortarium on Jughead's tenure as designated driver after last call at the Wyrm so the rest of the evening ahead of him. Normally, he would have spent it driving around with Betty, maybe sneaking into her room if her mom was already asleep. But nothing about his life was normal and all he could do was slink back home and debate his next move. Or be a total chump and read instead. Either way, he couldn't hang around on the Cooper's front porch, looking like a creep and undoubtedly straining what little good will Alice exhibited.
He climbed into his truck and turned towards Pop's. A conciliatory cheeseburger was the only sure thing in his future.
