Betty's pov
"Hi, Jug," I say, smiling brightly at him as he opens the door to his trailer. I take a mental note to wear dark, unsaturated colors the next time I'm here, to blend in better with my surroundings. I look so out of place, it's laughable.
"Betty," Jughead says softly, his eyes widened and his mouth hanging open. "How- how did you know where I live?"
"I asked around," I shrug, making sure to sound casual. I don't tell him that I had to ask what felt like half the school before discovering that Toni Topaz knew and lived near Jughead, and she was finally able to give me the address. "It's okay that I came, right? I just… Kevin said I was overreacting, and I figured you-"
"Yeah, come in," Jughead says, moving out of the doorway and holding the door open for me to come inside. "Uh… what did you want to talk about?"
I step inside, glancing around at the small kitchen that you enter right away, then to the table on my left and the living room space to my right. Also on the left is a hallway I can assume leads to a bathroom and bedroom. I then look to Jughead, meeting his blue gaze. "I want to talk about my sister," I say.
Jughead blinks a few times, my statement clearly making him even more confused than he already was. "What about your sister?" he asks, knitting his eyebrows together.
"She's been… well, I told you, she's been acting weird," I say, looking down.
I suddenly think of how strange of a situation I'm in, and I know it's my fault. Here I am, at the trailer of a boy I've had maybe fifteen, twenty at most, minutes of conversation with in our whole lives, about to talk to him about how I think my sister killed Archie Andrews. But Kevin had been busy with his secret boyfriend and Archie was truthfully the only other person I really talked to, so that left my options of who to come to about this very limited. Jughead was nice, and knew Archie too, and he had talked to me after the semi-fight with my sister, so I chose to go with him. Plus, I wanted to see him again.
"How so? For how long?" Jughead asks immediately, and I can tell he was the right person to come to. "Wait," he says before I can answer. "Why don't we sit down first? The trailer's not the best, but the couch isn't complete shit," he suggests.
"Oh, good idea," I say, and follow him through the trailer to the couch, which has mismatched pillows skewen randomly around it, but is surprisingly comfortable.
"So, go on about your sister? What's she been like?" Jughead asks, and I have to appreciate how normally he's taking the whole situation.
"She's been so secretive, for the past month basically," I reply. "She snuck out the night Archie was killed, and she will not tell my mom where she was, so she's been grounded since. She spends every waking moment possible talking to her boyfriend, and doesn't leave her room if she can avoid it. And, I know that's normal for some people, but Polly has always been so outgoing. She quit cheerleading, even, not that it makes much of a difference because their past few matches have been cancelled because of Archie anyways, but she always used to go on about how much she loved cheerleading."
Jughead looks thoughtful. "This is painfully obvious, but clearly something shady is going on with her," he says. "We just need to figure out what. A good starting point would be to talk to her."
I sigh, unable to resist the urge to roll my eyes. "I doubt she'll let me into the cave she's created in her bedroom long enough to hold a conversation," I say, and the corners of Jughead's mouth curl into a smile. "Besides, it's not like she would just confess to a murder. She's not stupid."
Jughead shrugs, dropping the smile from his face, letting it return to neutral. "Murder isn't the only thing it could be. It's the most glaringly obvious, but when i murder cases is it ever the most glaringly obvious suspect?" he says.
"I'm sure it happens more in real life than TV shows and movies like to make it seem. Some people are probably just shitty murderers, but those cases aren't interesting, which is why we don't see them documented or stories like that created," I say. "Anyways, I know that murder isn't the only thing this could be, but I feel it needs to be investigated."
"Wel, does your sister know Archie well? Any reason to kill him?" Jughead asks, looking intensely at me.
I shake my head, exhaling defeatedly. "No. She rarely talked to him when he was over, and that was mainly when we were little kids. I don't think she's even seen him in the past three years," I confess.
"Hm," Jughead says simply, leaning back on the couch, thinking over what he knows. "Well, unless she's had secret meetings with Archie, I don't see much of a motive here. Unless your sister is some psychotic person who enjoys watching people be killed, then it's probably something else."
I bite my lip, keeping it between my teeth for a moment. "Yeah, I guess you're right. But the timing is so suspicious, and she's just being so weird…" I trail off, wondering what explanation other than murder there could be.
"Like I said, Betty, talk to her," Jughead tells me, leaning forward again, now supporting himself by leaning on his arms, which are resting on his legs. "You might not get much, but it could be something."
I nod, knowing Jughead is right. I stand up, deciding to just go now and get the most likely extremely awkward situation out of the way. "Well, I guess I'll go now," I say unsurely.
"Oh, yeah," Jughead says after a second, standing up as well. "Uh… tell me what happens, I guess? Only if you want, of course."
"Of course I will," I say, smiling. "What's your phone number? I'll text you after," I add, pulling out my phone to add him.
Jughead lists off the ten digits of his phone number as I type it into my phone. "Great," I say when I'm finished. "Well, I'll see you later, Jug," I tell him.
Jughead smiles, and I want to stay, just to see that smile for longer. "Yeah. See you later, Betty," he says, and sees me out.
Scene break
Polly's pov
Someone knocks on my door, and I throw the shirt I'm holding onto a pile on the bed before shouting, "Come in!"
Betty walks in, and I can tell from just the way she carries herself that something is going on. "Hi, Polly," she says sweetly, and I narrow my eyes.
"Betty," I greet. "What do you want?"
She shrugs, walking farther into my room and sitting on my bed, next to the two piles of clothes I have stacked on it. "We haven't talked in a while," Betty says. "What are you doing?"
I can tell that Betty is clearly up to something, but I decide to play along. "Just cleaning out my closet. The piles are donate and keep." That's sort of a lie, but it's also partly true, so I don't feel bad. There are bigger things I've lied about that people would be more concerned about.
"Oh, that's nice," Betty says casually, eyeing the piles. "So, how have you been?"
"Fine," I say, looking at my little sister strangely. "What are you up to, Betty?"
"Uh…" Betty says, hesitating for a moment. "Okay, I'll just ask you flat out," she says. My stomach churns, wondering if she's caught on and she's about to confront me on that. "Where were you the night Archie was killed?"
That certainly wasn't what I was expecting. I stay quiet for a moment, my mouth opened in surprise. "I was- are you suggesting I killed him?" I ask.
Betty looks sorry, but she doesn't deny it. "It's just really suspicious, Pol," she confessed, sighing. "You were gone that night, and you won't tell anyone where you were or what you were doing. The evidence is stacked against you."
I exhale through my teeth as I roll my eyes, unable to believe this is actually happening. "Oh my god, Betty," I say in exasperation.
"Where were you, then, Polly?" Betty asks.
*flashback*
Everyone should be asleep by now, so i quietly slip out of my bedroom, walk carefully down the stairs, and get to the front door, which I slowly open just wide enough for me to squeeze out, and when I'm outside in the chilling air, I take care to shut it so no one can hear. I breathe a sigh of relief, and pull out my phone.
meet you at the park in five, I text to my boyfriend.
see ya, he texts back a few seconds later.
I set off down the street, zipping up my jacket as I do so because the night is cold, even with my sweater and jacket, plus skinny jeans. I pull my hat over my head, a wool one with a pompom I got for Christmas several years ago. By the time I've adjusted it so it's over the top of my ears, I've made it around the corner, and therefore out of sight of my family. Good.
Pickens Park has been a consistent spot for a lot of events in my life, because it's so close to my house. Countless picnics here as a child, soccer games in elementary school, hangouts with friends in middle school, and now the secret hideaway in the middle of the night with my boyfriend.
He's standing in our usual spot that is somewhat hidden by the shadows of the trees. I jog over as soon as I spot him, in dark jeans and a black puffer jacket, holding a seemingly empty backpack next to him.
"Hey," I say when I'm close enough. "Do you have it?"
Chuck nods, looking nervous. "Yeah. In here," he answers, patting the backpack he has now set on the picnic table.
"And your parents won't care?" I ask, for clarification. I've asked Chuck thousands of times now, but I still can't help but be nervous.
"Well, they can't exactly not care," Chuck says, a smile forming on his lips.
I playfully hit at his arm, wrinkling my nose. "I don't mean like that," I tell him, knowing full well that he knew that wasn't what I meant either. "I mean, they won't care about what's going on?"
"Stop worrying so much, Polly," Chuck says. "Like I keep telling you, they'll be asleep. They could sleep through anything, I swear to you. No one will know until later."
"Or never," Polly muttered under her breath, inhaling the cold air around them.
"Well, that might not be possible," Chuck points out, putting his hand on my arm and stroking it, noticing that I'm stressed. "It's a shame Archie Andrews heard about our plans yesterday, though."
"We're taking care of him," I say. "No one will know of our plans until it's too late."
"Right," Chuck agrees, nodding. "Let's go."
*present time*
"I was… I… that's none of your business," I finally tell Betty. "Did Mom put you up to this? Try and talk it out of me, because she couldn't do it?"
"Polly, no," Betty says, looking hurt. "You've just been acting so weird, and I want to know what's up with you!"
"Well, maybe I have my reasons," I say defensively.
"Like what?" Betty asks, sounding desperate.
*flashback*
As Chuck and I walk out of the park, I spot something strange on one of the benches. "Is that Veronica Lodge?" I ask Chuck, pointing her out. She looks like she's asleep, which is strange.
"Yeah, I think it is," Chuck says, drawing his eyebrows together as he looks at the rich cheerleader who is laying on a park bench in the middle of the night.
"What would she be doing here?" I question, looking suspiciously at her.
"No clue," answers Chuck.
"She's not going to see us here, is she?" I say, growing worried.
"Nah. She looks completely asleep," says Chuck, turning away.
I feel uneasy, but I trust Chuck, so I follow him to his car, which we climb into and endure a silent drive back to Chuck's house in. Meeting at the park was a safety precaution, since it's far enough from my house that no one would catch me getting into Chuck's car.
We sneak inside of Chuck's house, where his parents are asleep upstairs.
"Guest bedroom," Chuck whispers, and we tiptoe down the hallway to the guest bedroom. Carefully shutting the door once we're inside, Chuck sets the bag on the bed and opens it, pulling out two relatively small boxes. "Here," is all he says as he hands them to me.
I walk into a door I know leads to a bathroom, and exit a few minutes later, holding the white sticks in my hand flipped down, so I can't see what they say just yet.
Chuck and I stare at them face down on the bed for a few minutes before I finally decide we should just rip the bandaid off.
"Are you ready?" I ask, placing my trembling fingers over all of the pregnancy tests I had just taken.
After staring at them for another period of time, Chuck finally nods, taking in a breath and holding it. Closing my eyes, I flip the tests right side up on the bed. A few seconds later, I slowly open my eyes and am met with the sight of multiple positive pregnancy tests.
"Shit," I whisper, my heart beating out on my chest and a feeling of dread creeping through my stomach.
"We're really, truly fucked," Chuck says quietly, his eyes wide and unblinking as he looks at the tests on the bed as well.
"At least we have a plan," I reply, trying to keep my breathing at the most natural level it can be at.
"Right," Chuck agrees, swallowing.
*present time*
"It's really none of your business, Betty," I tell my little sister, annoyed that she's suddenly trying to dig for information.
Betty looks at me, anger and sadness flashing through her bright green eyes before she leaves my bedroom without another word, leaving the door wide open. I grit my teeth as I walk over and close it, before I sit down on the bed and run my fingers through my hair, letting my head rest on my hands for a moment.
But then I exhale and convince myself to stand up. One more day and I would finally be able to leave this godforsaken town for good, and Chuck and I would be able to raise our baby somewhere nice and far away from this town and it's dreary residents.
Archie's death and my grounding had delayed our departure by quite a bit, but finally we were set to leave tonight, and I just had a bit of packing to finish up before I was set to leave. Chuck has his car filled up, and we are just going to drive until we run out of gas, and keep driving after we get some sleep. Maybe we'll see our families again. Maybe not. Either way, we're finally getting to escape.
Scene break
This time, I was much more careful sneaking out. I had a backpack and a suitcase, which I carried to avoid making any noise on the hardwood floors. I also had only socks on, again to avoid making noise. I open the front door just enough to put my suitcase outside, and then squeeze myself out, taking a while to shut the door to be absolutely certain it makes no noise.
I pick up the suitcase and, still not wearing anything on my feet other than socks, run down the front steps and then down the street, finally stopping once I've turned the corner and am completely out of view from my house.
Finally sitting down, I attempt to catch my breath as I pull a pair of shoes out of my suitcase and put them on one by one. Once that's finished, I continue my short walk to the park, where Chuck and I had again agreed to meet.
Seeing him standing there, a backpack and suitcase next to him as well, I rush over.
"We're really doing this," I say breathlessly, smiling at him.
He nods, smiling back. "Yeah we are. We're getting out of this hellhole, once and for all," he says, taking my hand. "Come on. The car is this way."
We gather our bags and walk out of the park to Chuck's car, which we load with our bags before getting in ourselves.
Our drive through the town of Riverdale is silent, both of us scared someone will notice us and force us to stay. But as we pass by the back of the Welcome to Riverdale sign, we both look at each other and beam.
"We're out," I say happily, glancing behind me at the sign. "We're free."
Chuck looks at me, smiling proudly. "At last," he finishes, taking my hand in his while keeping the other one on the steering wheel.
Scene break
Betty's pov
I usually sleep in on Sundays, but today I was woken up a few hours earlier than I would have normally woken up by my mom bursting unannounced into my room.
"I could've been changing," I groan as I rub my eyes, turning over in bed.
"It's Sunday, we both know you stay in your pajamas until lunch on Sundays," Mom replies, sounding annoyed.
"I could decide to switch things up," I say defensively, slowly sitting up.
My mom ignores me, instead opting to say, "Have you seen your sister?"
"No. Why would I? Can you not find her?" I ask.
"She's not in her bed, or anywhere else in the house. We don't know where she went," Mom informs me.
"What?" I ask, suddenly not feeling so tired anymore. "She's… gone?"
"Yes. Do you know where she went? Did she tell you anything suspicious in the past few days?" Mom asks.
"Uh…" I say, thinking over our short conversations from the past few days. I shake my head no. "She didn't say anything at all. She was acting really weird, but that's just how she's been for a while."
Mom exhales and places her hand on her hip, looking stressed.
"Is there anything missing from her room?" I ask after a moment.
Looking almost suspiciously at me, Mom says, "I didn't check."
"Well, let's check, then," I say, throwing the covers off of my legs and standing up.
I walk inside of Polly's bedroom and look around. At first glance, everything looks like it's in place, but having just seen the room yesterday, I can tell something is off. "Her backpack is missing," I say, pointing towards the foot of the desk, where Polly's backpack usually sits on the floor.
"She could have just misplaced it," Mom says, looking skeptical.
Looking towards the ground, I bite my lip, holding it loosely between my teeth. I think back to the day before, when I had last been in Polly's room. Then something hits me, and I inhale sharply.
I walk to Polly's dresser, opening the top drawer, which is about half full. I then look in the next drawer down, which is, again, not filled to the top like it normally is.
"Some of her clothes are missing," I point out.
"How do you know?" Mom questions, narrowing her eyes.
"I- I borrow some of her clothes, sometimes," I say quietly. "Her dresser drawers are always filled up. And her closet-" I walk towards my sister's closet, which I pull open "-has a bunch of empty hangers. Not to mention, her suitcase is missing."
Mom looks in the closet in shock, not making any noise from her opened mouth.
"So either someone kidnapped her and let her bring clothes, she snuck out with a bunch of her clothes and hasn't come back yet, or… she ran away," I say, knowing that it has to be the last one.
"I just… why would she want to run away?" Mom questions, looking sad.
"You'd have to ask her, probably," I say, shrugging. I examine the rest of her room, finding little else missing other than her phone, laptop, and their respective chargers.
Scene break
"Hey, Jug?" I say into the phone when he picks up. It's a few hours later, and Polly still hasn't shown up. We've searched the park, talked to her best friend Olivia, and called her multiple times, but no traces of her.
"What's up, Betty?" Jughead replies.
"Um, we can't exactly find my sister," I say quietly.
"She's missing?" Jughead asks immediately, sounding concerned.
"Yeah. I think she ran away," I say. "Can I, uh, could I come over?"
"Oh, sure," Jughead says, sounding surprised.
"Sorry, it's just that I have some ideas," I say. "About my sister… and about Archie."
hello! Sorry this is kind of short, and also a really weird chapter. I just didn't have much to write for Polly, so I ended up deciding to talk a bit from Betty's perspective. Hopefully this isn't too much of a mess. Along with that, I might not have the next chapter for a while. I've got a lot going on so I'm really sorry about the long waits but just bear with me. If you want. You don't have to. Anyway, have a great day!