Stovebolt or Thriftmaster
This is a work of fanfiction, no copyright infringement is intended. I own nothing pertaining to the Archie Comics/Riverdale Universe.
…~*~...
Betty was sober, hadn't touched a joint passed around at a party or placed a rolled up dollar bill into her nostrils when the plate was offered to her. She never poured the contents of the sweet Jingle Jangle straws into her open mouth. So when she made the decision to accompany her friends to a Southside car show, when questioned her own sobriety.
This was more of a meet rather than a show. Mostly Ghoulies and their hot rods and dragsters. Betty was wildly intrigued by one revving engine in particular. The bright red hood was lifted to expose the unearthly clean engine compartment. Thoroughly absorbed in the fully functioning original engine; she didn't realize that her friends had ditched her for the general racing car styles on the other side of the open clearing that they congregated in.
The engine ceased it's revving, the sexy sounds of torque and power fading from her greedy eardrums, leaving Betty to begrudgingly slide herself from under the hood. Still intrigued by the original motor that was able to roar to life, she walked around the side of the car, checking out the transmission next.
"Like what you see baby girl?" a deep unfamiliar voice caught her off guard. She jumped so violently she almost bashed her head into the hood.
"Oh my- You scared me to death." Holding a hand over heart, Betty took several deep breaths.
"Sorry darlin'. I didn't mean to. Just never seen a girl inspect under the hood quite like you before." Holding up his hands in mock surrender, the boy smiled wide at her.
"Well, I like cars. I've never seen a fully functioning three point five Stovebolt before." Betty let a hand rest on the lip of the engine compartment, daring a few steps closer to the wide eyed stranger.
"Are you even real? What if it's a three point nine Thriftmaster?" His arms folded over his naked torso, Betty had definitely noticed that.
"Well, because this is a forty-nine. Chevy put three point nines in the wagons in fifty-four. You'd have to replace the drive shaft and the transmission to accommodate a corvette motor." It was her turn to cross her arms, accentuating her breasts, effectively gaining an eyebrow raise from him, and a lick of the lips for good measure.
"Huh. You from around here, uh, didn't catch yer name?" He held up a hand in questioning.
"Betty, Betty Cooper, and yes I am, well sort of." A hip popped out with her attitude. She didn't like when the boys made a big deal over her automotive knowledge.
"Betty Cooper. I'm Malachai Cardenas. Good to meet you." Holding out a hand to her, she took it. He gave her a proper handshake, no half assed slack grip, but a real handshake.
"My pleasure." She nodded as he let her hand slip from his own. His smile was back now, a twinkle in his eye gave her the feeling he was up to something.
"You can't be from the Southside, I'd remember you." Inching closer to her, he didn't even try to hide the way his eyes slid over her curves.
"I live on the Northside." She admitted.
"Even better baby girl." He slipped a hand into his pocket, pulling out a leather studded business card holder. "I could use a knowledgeable, and honest mechanic. Got a shop downtown."
"You have a shop, you? Aren't you a little young?" She asked incredulously.
"I inherited it. Family business. Look, I always have these rods comin' in for one reason or another. If you don't like a paper trail, we can work with ya. I'd like to have a set of fresh eyes in the joint. You game?" The black glossy card caught the sunlight, Betty bit her lip.
"Yeah. I'm game." Her fingers came up to take the card from his long fingers, grazing his heated digits with her own.
"That's what I'm talkin' about." He let her take the card while he appraised her silently.
"Betts! There you are. What are you doing over here." Jughead came around the other side of the car, brows knit together in confusion.
"I was just admiring this car. I'm big girl Jug, I can take care of myself." Slipping the card into her back pocket, Betty made sure to pivot her body so that Jughead didn't put a hand on her back like he always did.
"Malachai, figures you be talking to my girl." Betty's head turned toward Jughead at an incredible speed.
"Your girl?!" Malachai and Betty asked simultaneously. They looked at each other.
"I meant my friend. That is a girl. Sorry Betty." Face flaming, and heart wounded, Jughead nervously pulled on the edges of his beanie.
"I was almost worried there for a minute." Malachai said sarcastically.
"Yeah, me too." Betty shook her head uncomfortably, crossing her arms again.
"Give me a shout Betty. Jughead, catch ya later." Taking Betty's hand in his own, Malachai kissed the back of her hand.
As he turned, Betty caught a glimpse of the Ghoulie patch amidst the studded fabric over Malachai's back.
"You are a magnet for trouble Cooper. Be careful with that guy." He almost put an arm around Betty's shoulders but thought better of it.
"He seems about as dangerous as FP." Betty pulled the card from her pocket, looking adoringly at it before replacing it carefully. "Besides, he's kind of cute."