Author's Note : Greetings to all! Here is the next installment of my story. I hope you enjoy it. I am having so much fun writing this story and I really hope you are enjoying reading it. As always, please let me know. Feedback of any kind is welcome and appreciated more than I could ever express in words. Anyway, enough of my jabber. On to the story!
Chapter Seven Song : "The Chain" by Fleetwood Mac
Disclaimer : Don't own the characters. Just really like them.
CHAPTER SEVEN :
It was Thursday at lunch when Jughead discovered Betty's article mixed in with the stack of copies from the other writers. A full, ready to print copy. Not a little bit confused, he fell back in his chair and started to read, thinking back to the day before at the staff meeting. He had gotten his updates from Kev, Ethel and Toni and then he turned his attention to Betty.
"Betty," he'd said and her blue eyes had flashed up, almost guilty, "anything to report?"
She'd pressed her lips together in a thin line and shaken her head, "Nope."
He'd felt his eyes narrow, "What about all those notes you were working on?"
"Oh! Those?" She had said with a nonchalant wave of her hand, "That was just Veronica giving me a rundown on who's who, power couples, fashionistas of Riverdale...you know, that kind of interesting... society...stuff."
He'd felt suspicious even as she'd spoken. He should have known to go with his gut. Sitting in the Blue and Gold office, he scanned over the article she'd prepared on the caste system of Riverdale and how the Back to School Dance served to not only remind students of their designated social standing but as a platform to make sure they stayed there. Part of him was pissed that she'd ignored the assignment, although she really hadn't. He hadn't specified an angle with which she was to write about the dance. The other part of him was in awe of her perspective, her insight, her intuition. And then a third part of him wished like hell he'd had her around for the whole Pickens fiasco. He felt certain she would have had his back.
Betty was working on an English Lit assignment on a sofa in the student lounge when a messenger bag landed by her feet with a loud thunk and startled her to the point that she gasped with a small squeak escaping from her throat. She was still catching her breath when Jughead dropped onto the cushion by her side. He rested one arm along the backside of the couch and the other on the side arm.
"And so the dance signals that another year begins the cycle of validation and alienation anew." He quoted her article, without looking at her.
Betty just stared at his profile and waited him out.
A flash of green darted toward her in a sideways glance, "An interesting approach."
"It's true. I have several sources."
"So I read."
Betty chewed on her bottom lip, "Soooo...scale of 1 to 10; how pissed are you?"
"Oh, we bypassed the scale a few miles ago." He wasn't too proud to throw her own words back at her.
"It's a good article, Jughead."
"No," Jughead countered, "It's a great article."
Betty could feel the blood rushing to her cheeks and tried not to make it too obvious how much his praise meant to her. "So, does that mean..."
"Yes," he said, "it's going to print."
She clapped her hands together and smiled from ear to ear at him. He held up a hand to calm her.
"You probably shouldn't thank me. It'll go out tomorrow. The morning before the very dance that you are ripping to shreds."
"It's the truth." Betty said simply.
"You are one of a kind, aren't you?" He said with a shake of his head before finally turning his face fully toward her.
Betty felt her smile fade when their eyes met. There was something about his eyes. She just wanted to stare into them, lose herself in them, like they were a safe haven. His chest started move just the slightest bit faster as he looked back at her, as though perhaps his breathing had become labored. She swallowed hard and blinked three times rapidly trying to find her voice.
"Jug..." She rasped.
"Anyway," he cut her off, "I gotta jet. Talk to you later, Betty."
With that, he hopped to his feet, scooped up his bag and was out the door before Betty could utter another word.
Or ask him to stay.
Just a little longer.
She shoved her notebook to the side and let her head fall back against the cushions, closing her eyes and covering her face with her hands. When had life become so...complicated?
It seemed like Betty blinked and it was Friday night, time for the dance. As Jughead had predicted, her article had caused what could be considered an uproar. Betty had received one or two dirty looks from a few of her fellow River Vixens but she hadn't let it bother her. She hadn't written anything that wasn't true. All the animosity and anger, however, had seemed to dull as the day progressed and the excitement for the very subject of the article pushed the article itself out of everyone's mind. There was hair to be done and makeup to be applied and jewelry to be shown off. It was time for the dance.
Veronica walked beside Betty with a garment bag slung over her shoulder, sipping at a double chocolate milkshake from Pop's as they made their way to Betty's house to get ready together for the night's event.
"I thought people would care more," Betty said.
"They cared plenty," Veronica replied, chewing a little on her straw.
Betty shrugged, "Okay. I thought they would care for a longer period of time."
Veronica chuckled, "B, we are talking about teenagers. They basically have the attention span of a bunch of gnats. If it isn't in the glossy pages Seventeen magazine or blaring out from ESPN, it goes in one ear, hangs out for approximately 2.6 seconds and then right out the other."
Betty sighed and tried not to be too disheartened. She wasn't really one for apathy and that was exactly the mentality that she was picking up from the general student body of Riverdale high. She shouldn't be surprised. Her old school really hadn't been that different. She kicked at a pebble and then made the turn at the corner to head down her street.
"Now," Veronica said, her voice high and cheery, "with the risk of sounding like one the mindless, gnat drones we were just discussing...tell me about your dress! Is it amazing? Is Archie's tongue gonna roll out of his head?"
"I don't know about that," Betty said, feeling the blush rise in her cheeks.
It hadn't been Archie in her mind when she had tried on the delicate pink strapless down.
"I hope he likes it." She said, knowing Veronica would interpret her words to mean that she hoped Archie would like the dress; knowing her friend would interpret her words wrong.
The two girls continued chattering about their dresses and shoes as the climbed the front steps and entered the house...where Alan greeted them from the living room.
"Well, hello ladies," he said, setting aside his newspaper and getting to his feet
"Hi, Alan," Betty said and made a beeline for the stairs.
Veronica tilted her milkshake at him in a gesture of greeting, "Hi, Mr. Daniel."
"Veronica," he said, his voice soft, his reptilian eyes narrowing in on the small brunette, "I've asked you several times now to call me Alan."
Betty could actually see Veronica suppress her shudder, "Sorry, my mom would freak out if she ever heard me refer to an adult by their first name. I was raised to, you know, respect my elders."
The inflection on the final word was subtle, but Betty saw that it hit its mark with her stepdad. His smile tightened the slightest bit and the veins in the side of his neck strained.
"C'mon V," Betty said, already up three stairs, "we gotta get ready."
Once they were in her bedroom with the door closed and locked, Veronica tossed her dress on the bed and spun around.
"No offense, B," she said, "but your stepdad gives me the creeps."
"I know." Betty agreed opening her closet door, "I'll never understand my mom."
Archie had come to a gut wrenching decision. He stood on the deck of the Jones family trailer in Sunnyside Trailer park and knocked two fast, hard beats. A moment later the door swung open and Jughead's father, FP greeted him with a quick grin.
"Heya, Red!" He said.
"Hey Mr. Jones. Is Jug here?"
"You just caught him." FP answered, ushering him through the door, "Hey boy! Archie's here."
Jughead appeared from the kitchen, shoving the remnants of a sandwich into his mouth. "Hey, man," he said around a mouthful of bread.
"Hey Jug," Archie said and cast a furtive glance from the side of his eye at FP, "can we talk?"
FP chuckled and slapped Archie on the shoulder, "Don't worry, Red. I'm headed to the Wyrm. Shout if you need me, Jug."
"Later, dad."
With that, FP left the boys to their discussion.
"Come on," Jughead said and led the way to the kitchen table for them to sit, "you hungry?"
"Nah," Archie said, sliding into the chair across from the one Jughead had sat down in. They sat in an awkward silence for a long moment before with a signature, half smirk, Jughead cleared his throat.
"As fascinating as this is, Arch, you know, the staring, there are-"
"I've decided to talk to Weatherby!" Archie blurted all at once.
Jughead took a second to take that in...and what it entailed. "Okay," he said slowly, "you're going to talk to Weatherby...about...everything."
Archie ran both hands hard over his face, "I don't know. I mean...there's no reason to tell him everything right? I can come clean about being at Sweetwater River...I can tell him about the gunshot. There's no reason to drag Geraldine-"
"Geraldine?"
"-into it at all, right?"
"Does Geraldine know you're going to do this?" Jug asked.
Archie shook his head.
"Do you plan on giving her a heads up?"
"I don't know. Maybe. Probably." Archie said, staring at his hands on the table, like he was afraid to meet Jughead's eyes. "I mean, she deserves at least that much, right?"
"I don't know what she deserves." Jughead said, his voice going somewhat cold, "We've never been close."
"This isn't easy for me, Jug."
Jughead softened, "I know that. Look, warn her if you feel like you should but don't let her talk you out of it."
"Not a chance," Archie said, finally meeting Jughead's gaze, "I can't keep living with the guilt that I might have known something about Jason and not told anyone. Plus...I want a clean slate...you know...with Betty. Even if coming clean about what I heard is only half the story, it's still more than I have right now."
"Right." It was Jughead's turn to look away.
Archie smiled, "She's so perfect, Jug. I really want you two to get along. I know she's not the type of girl you would normally hang out with...I mean, she's a cheerleader and all, but she's..."
"Archie," Jughead interrupted, "you don't have to sell me on Betty. I...like her fine."
More than fine. More than a lot.
"Good." Archie released a breath on a grin, "That's good."
Jughead felt as though his throat were caving in on itself; he couldn't breathe right, like his lungs couldn't expand enough to take in sufficient air. Luckily, Archie seemed ready to end his visit.
"Well," his redheaded friend said, rising to his feet, "I gotta go get ready for the dance. Me and Reg are picking the girls up at Betty's in a little over an hour. See ya, Jug!"
Jughead jerked his chin once in acknowledgment and then Archie was gone.
Author's Note : So, there's that. Thoughts? Comments? Complaints? Who's ready to see more Bughead interaction? How do you feel about Jug and Archie's friendship? Let me know what you think! Until the next...