Chapter 3: I wish I knew, I wish I knew you wanted me
I bite my tongue, it's a bad habit
Kinda mad I didn't take a stab at it
Thought you were too good for me, my dear
Never gave me time of day, my dear
It's okay, things happen for reasons that I think are sure, yeah
I wish I knew, I wish I knew you wanted me
Bad Habit – Steve Lacy
A thousand thoughts plagued him as he sat in the Riverdale High auditorium.
The black dress pants and stiff blue button down he wore were itchy and uncomfortable, and he shifted around nervously, tugging at his collar. God, he hated formal attire. At least he'd managed to get out of the house with the suspenders he favored, despite Alice's somewhat disapproving glance as they'd left for the ceremony.
Itchy was a good word, Jughead decided.
His mind felt itchy, consumed with a brooding over Betty that couldn't be scratched away.
Their unexpected hook-up had completely thrown him for a loop. Being with her had been incredible and addicting and every other superlative adjective he steadfastly avoided as a self-proclaimed cynic. But he'd soured it. Not that he had much of a choice. Not with all the baggage involved.
To avoid replaying the unfortunate moment he'd severed himself from her warm embrace, his brian flitted to the past instead.
The first time he'd ever held Betty in his arms was when he was eight. The day her father died.
He still had vivid snapshots of that spring afternoon.
It was a Sunday in April. He and Archie were playing in the treehouse.
Sometime before they'd seen from the window Hal Cooper and a pig-tailed Betty walking into the garage next door like they did every weekend. Hal was working on repairing an old classic car, and six-year-old Betty liked to watch.
Everything seemed normal, until they heard her faint wail.
"Daddy," she cried out, the word traveling away with the wind.
The boys looked at each other confused, sensing something was wrong. They scuttled down the steps of the treehouse to see what was going on.
The next few moments passed by in a flash, frames that still didn't coalesce even 12 years later.
Alice running out of the house. A frightened Betty waiting in the driveway. A blood-curdling scream. Archie's parents rushing out to the front yard. Fred leading a wobbly Alice out of the Coopers' garage. Archie sniffling and clutching onto Mary's pants leg. Betty standing all alone.
Jughead remembered feeling helpless, scared. Unsure of what to do.
He looked to Fred, who was holding Alice fiercely as she sobbed into his chest.
So he put his arms around Betty, hugging her as tight as he could as the sirens approached.
Maybe that had really been the start of his romantic feelings for Betty, or at least the sense of protectiveness he felt toward her. The physical attraction would come later. With a vengeance.
He'd acted on it only once before, at her request.
Aside from an unfortunate incident involving Ethel Muggs pushing him up against a locker when he was a freshman and forcing her lips on his (which he viewed as an assault and refused to count as his first kiss), Jughead's entire sexual experience in high school was limited to one clandestine embrace with Betty.
It happened at the beginning of his junior year, a few weeks after she started Riverdale High.
It was a Friday night. The first football game of the year. He'd forced himself to attend, covering the spectacle for the school newspaper the Blue & Gold, and in a vague show of support for Archie. But he knew the real reason he hadn't pushed back against the assignment was the chance to drool over Betty's long legs in her new cheerleader skirt.
After the Bulldogs won, he made his way down from the stands close to the field. There was nothing worse than getting post-game quotes, but it was part of the gig.
He suddenly felt a tap on his arm and turned to find himself enveloped in a pair of feminine arms, the scent of vanilla wafting over him.
"Juggie, you came!" she exclaimed when she released him.
He managed a smile, lifting up his notebook and pen and giving them a little shake. "Duty calls."
Betty giggled and his smile softened. He was about to ask her if she wanted to go Pop's with him for a milkshake, when, out of nowhere, one of the Bulldogs sauntered over.
"Betty, right?" the beefcake said, leering at her body in the revealing Vixens uniform. "You looked great out there."
"Oh, thanks," she said, her green eyes shining emerald-like against the field lights.
"So," he said, tilting his head to her. "I'll be seeing you at Mantle's party, won't I?"
Jughead turned away rattled, not waiting to hear her answer.
Seeing Betty flirt with or be flirted with by some football jock made him feel nauseous. He wanted to get out of there now. Go sit at Pop's with endless cups of black coffee and his laptop, and write himself into oblivion.
Unfortunately, at that exact moment, Archie spotted him.
"Bro," the redhead said, slapping his back. "You have to come to the post-game party. It's gonna be epic."
Which was how he discovered himself at Reggie Mantle's house, feeling crabbier and more antisocial than usual.
So in spite of the fact he considered himself pretty vehemently anti-alcohol (thanks for the life lessons, FP), when Reggie shoved a beer into his hands upon their arrival, Jughead drank it.
He finished the bottle off quickly, despite instantly disliking the heavy malty flavor. He'd had nothing better to do since Archie almost immediately abandoned him to dance with his flavor of the week. Was it Valerie or Josie now? Jughead couldn't remember. The boy went through more girls than a rolodex had pages. His head pounded thinking about it, and he realized he was drunk. He wandered out to the backyard, hoping some cool, fresh air would help.
He found Betty outside on an old swing set, sitting alone, with what looked like a few stray tears strewn across her face.
"Betts," he said, resting his hand on her shoulder for balance, before clumsily taking a seat on the swing next to hers.
"Oh Jug," she said, offering him a small smile. "Hi."
"Are you okay?" he asked, "What's wrong?" He hoped his voice wasn't slurring. Damn, he was an idiot for drinking.
Betty blushed, covertly wiping the lingering droplets away. "I'm fine…it's just Cheryl."
"The she-devil," he groaned.
Cheryl Blossom was a senior and captain of the Vixens. She also happened to be good friends with Betty's sister Polly, and the twin sister of Polly's boyfriend Jason. They had both had less than stellar prior run-ins with the girl. Needless to say, he wasn't much of a fan. Although who would be a fan of someone who made it her prime mission to call him "hobo" every single time she saw him?
Betty rolled her eyes but grinned softly at his response.
"What does she want now?"
"Polly told her I've never been kissed," Betty confessed in a near whisper, sounding embarrassed. "And Cheryl said that was not acceptable for a Vixen. She said I have to play seven minutes in heaven tonight or else I'm off the squad."
"That's ridiculous," he fumed. "You should quit in protest."
Betty bit her lip. "Jug, I like being a Vixen," she murmured. "I don't want to quit."
"Oh," he said dumbly, his head now bedeviled by the thought of some handsy Bulldog pawing at her in the Mantles' coat closet. It made him want to bleach his brain.
"It's just, well…maybe you can help," she asked looking up hopefully at him.
"How?" he gulped, sensing where this was going, but not letting himself believe she'd actually say it aloud.
"Jug," she said, gazing up at him, "Will you be my first kiss?"
He ran his hand nervously through his black wavy hair. "Oh, uh, Betts, I don't know," he objected weakly.
It's not that he didn't want to kiss her. He thought about it a lot actually. All the time, to be honest. More than kissing, too. But he was terrified of doing it wrong. Or of Archie finding out. And then promptly beating the shit out of him.
"Please," she entreated. "I want my first kiss to be with someone I actually like. Someone I trust. Not as part of a game with whatever rando Cheryl picks out."
His inhibitions were lowered from the alcohol. They were at practically zero. And she looked so pretty begging him in the moonlight. All it took were those pleading puppy-dog eyes to get him to relent. God, he was such a sucker when it came to her.
"Okay," he whispered.
As if in slow motion, they tilted the two swings to face each other. He leaned in, his gaze glued to hers, until there was nothing but mere centimeters between them. Both pairs of eyes shut as he bridged the gap, pressing his mouth delicately against hers. It lasted only a couple of seconds, but his heart soared the entire time. Her lips were velvety soft, curving perfectly with his. He wanted to taste her forever.
When they broke away, her eyes fluttered open shyly and she smiled sweetly up at him.
"Thank you, Juggie."
Until today's mishap, he'd managed to keep his hormones in regard to Betty in check. They'd never discussed the kiss after that night and carried on with their friendship status quo. Although it was interesting, he noted to himself, that neither he nor Betty had dated or hooked up with anyone else those two years of high school they'd overlapped, at least to his knowledge. Maybe they'd both been secretly pining for each other. He knew he had.
College, however, was a different story.
He'd never expected he'd be the one bouncing between several girls when they'd enrolled at Centerville University, Jughead on an academic scholarship that covered tuition but not living expenses and Archie on a full athletic ride. Given Archie's casanova reputation throughout high school, Jughead figured he'd be sexiled out of his dorm room constantly by a parade of co-eds. But the ginger had met his match in Veronica Lodge the summer after high school and somehow entered college in a serious relationship.
It was a typical June evening, sitting in Pop's feasting on burgers and milkshakes. He and Betty were passionately debating "In Cold Blood," while Archie looked on impassively.
"Betty, it's a fucking classic," he sputtered. "Capote invented an entirely new genre."
"I'm not denying that, Jug," Betty volleyed back. "All I'm saying is it's disingenuous to call it pure non-fiction when he made up a bunch of scenes."
They were so engaged in the argument, neither noticed a glamorous brunette sporting a black minidress and a string of pearls approaching their cherry-red booth.
"Personally, I prefer 'Breakfast at Tiffany's'" the brunette said.
Vexed by the interruption, Jughead looked up to see a girl about their age flashing the group a vulpine grin. Before he could tell her to get lost, Archie turned on the charm, a boyishly seductive smile alighting on his face.
"Hi there," he said, reaching his hand out to her. "I'm Archie."
"Pleasure," the girl replied, returning his grip "Veronica. Veronica Lodge."
"Would you like to join us, Veronica?" Archie proposed, ignoring the annoyed stare Jughead was shooting at him.
"That sounds lovely," the brunette said, taking a seat next to Betty.
"This is Betty, my step-sister," Archie introduced.
"Hi," Betty told the new girl, offering her a warm smile.
"Hi Betty," Veronica said, smiling back. She turned to face Jughead next. "And you are?" she asked, intrusively to his taste.
When he responded with a scowl, Betty answered on his behalf. "That's Jughead." She paused to glare at him for being rude, before adding, "Don't mind him. He's always grumpy."
Jughead simply rolled his eyes, not bothering to defend himself or argue with her. He'd clearly lost this battle.
It turned out the Lodges were originally from Riverdale, although Veronica had grown up in Park Avenue luxury in New York City. Her parents had moved back to town to lay low in the midst of some mysterious financial scandal. Veronica would coincidentally also be a freshman at Centerville University that coming fall.
Within a week, she and Archie were officially a couple, surprising practically everyone by lasting through the end of summer. They'd been going strong for two years now, with Betty and Veronica also becoming super close. Even Jughead had grudgingly started to like her the more time she spent with their group, although he was still loath to admit it out loud.
Jughead peeked over at Veronica now, trying to distract himself from searching for Betty's loose blonde locks in the sea of blue robes. The brunette was seated between him and Archie, looking way too overdressed for a crappy high-school auditorium in a low-cut, sparkling silver minidress. She and Archie were holding hands, and he nearly gagged. The ginger had become such a sap, he thought, his genuine happiness for his best friend colored in with just a tinge of jealousy and disgust.
Veronica, noticing Jughead's glance on her, raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him. He stuck his tongue out at her in response and they both giggled, shutting up when Alice sent a glare their way from down the aisle.
If his plan had been to divert his attention from past memories of Betty, that eyebrow arch had only succeeded in reminding him of the night Archie and Veronica had sussed out he'd had sex for the first time.
His antisocial nature notwithstanding, Jughead knew without a doubt he wanted to go out for a spot on the Red & Black, Centerville University's prize-winning newspaper.
He'd worked hard the first month of college, polishing off 10 drafts of the same submission article, until they'd finally let him on staff.
It was there he met Toni Topaz, a spitfire from the neighboring town of Greendale and a would-be photographer.
They lived in the same freshman dorm, and also shared an Intro to Literature Class, so they began to hang out pretty frequently. One October night while studying for midterms, she put her notes down, stretched her arms, declared "I'm bored," and climbed into his lap.
He couldn't deny Toni was hot, with her caramel-colored skin and tight little body. So he kissed her back, somewhat nervous at his woeful lack of experience, but also enjoying the chance for sexual exploration. Soon enough, she was pushing down his jeans and pulling a condom out of her drawer. He'd happily gone along for the ride.
Jughead floated back to his room later that night, feeling pretty damn pleased with himself. He may have sealed his fate if his life suddenly transformed into a horror movie, but at least he wouldn't die a virgin.
When he pushed open the door, he found Veronica in Archie's bed still somehow managing to look chic in pajama shorts and one of her boyfriend's old Riverdale High sweatshirts. He sighed. The girl had barely slept in her own room since they'd come to college. Not that he could really complain, since he habitually spent half the night working on his secret novel or studying in the college library and they were both usually out cold by the time he came home.
"Are you sleeping here again?" he asked in lieu of a greeting, trying to sound irritated. However, because of his post-coital haze, the dig came out somewhat flat.
Veronica ignored the jab. "Where have you been, Forsythe?" she trilled.
"Oh, you know, Holly," he said, employing the nickname (ala Holly Golightly) he used to annoy her. "Studying."
"Please," she snorted, before a look of realization crossed over her face. "You just got laid," she hissed.
"What?" he said, feeling panic enshroud him and entering into full denial mode. "No."
Veronica raised a disbelieving eyebrow at him, reading right through him. "Archiekins," she called.
The ginger poked his head out from the bathroom, toothbrush in hand. "What's up, babe?"
"Jughead had sex," she said, pointing at him.
Archie appraised him, quickly confirming it with one glance."Hit it, bro!" he exclaimed. "It's about time."
Jughead groaned, sinking into his bed and pulling the covers over his head, ignoring them both as they proceeded to mercilessly laugh at his expense.
He and Toni began sleeping together pretty regularly after that first night, although it was very obviously friends with benefits and nothing more. The romantic feelings just weren't there.
Despite his lack of sexual experience, after years of crafting detailed, storylength fantasies of Betty, which continued to live rent-free in his mind, he had some semblance of what to do and what he liked. And Toni proved a model canvas to practice on. She was pretty game in bed. Plus, she had high expectations, blithely offering him tips to improve his digital and oral skills to match what the various girls she'd been with knew how to do.
Their casual situation lasted until the end of his first semester. He'd offhandedly expected it to continue after they returned from winter break, but Toni had apparently fallen for their mutual friend Fangs, a leather-wearing bad boy type. He found them sloppily making out in the Red & Black room one afternoon in late January.
Toni had mouthed "sorry" to him, but he just shrugged and smirked his "whelp, what can you do" face. He didn't take it personally. He liked Toni as a friend fine, but never beyond that. Mostly, he'd just enjoyed the sex. He ended up staying on good terms with both her and Fangs.
A few weeks later, he met Jessica. His first real girlfriend.
It was a bitterly cold Saturday night in February.
Jughead had intended to stay in, get a shitload of food to go from the dining hall, and watch "The Maltese Falcon" for the umpteenth time on his laptop.
But Veronica's latest update from Betty in Riverdale upended that master plan.
The brunette was lounging on Archie's bed waiting for him to get dressed to go to some frat party one of his football buddies had invited them to.
She was scrolling through her phone when she stopped and turned the screen around for them both to see. "Doesn't Betty look cute?" she said, holding out a selfie of the blonde wearing light make-up and dressed in a pink floral sweater. "She's going on a date to Pop's with Trevor."
"Trevor Brown," Archie said, peeking his head out from the closet. "As in Valerie's brother?"
"Yes, Archiekins," Veronica sighed dramatically. "Your ex's little brother apparently thinks there's still a chance between your two families."
Jughead instantly felt sick to his stomach. Since when did Betty go on dates? With fucking Trevor Brown? That guy was even more boring than his inane name. And to Pop's? Their forever place. How could she? He felt resentful and jealous and a bunch of nasty other emotions he had no desire to deal with. Instead, the same acute, overwhelming need to get drunk that he'd felt at Reggie's party two-and-a-half years prior streamed over him.
"Hey, I think I'll come to that party with you guys," he grumbled, earning a surprised gape from Veronica.
Archie, however, looked excited. "Great," he proclaimed. "The more the merrier."
Jughead spent most of the party downing absinthe with a pretentious group of people he recognized from his creative writing class. Jess was one of them. She flirted hard with him, taking every opportunity to touch him—fingers brushing against his as she refilled his glass, squeezing his knee when he said something mildly amusing. Eventually, she asked if he wanted to get out of there.
They'd ended up drunkenly making out in one of the stalls of the frat house's communal bathroom. Overcome with aggravated arousal, and in no mood to wait, he lifted up Jess's skirt right then and there and turned her around against the locked door, thankful he still had a condom in his wallet from the period with Toni.
The whole time he was penetrating her from behind he imagined Betty. Pounding into her as punishment for going on a date with some idiot boy. Thrusting so hard she screamed his nam e.
Jess must have enjoyed angry sex (or angry fantasy sex, in his case) since she kept coming back for more. Soon enough, without really planning for it, they were a couple. Although their volatile relationship really only consisted of partying, fucking, fighting, and making nasty comments about fellow writers. A sinkhole of dysfunction, basically.
Jughead groaned inwardly thinking about it now. What a shitshow that had been. He'd veered close to mild alcoholism and his grades started slipping. Thankfully, he'd had enough sense to call it off with her in the early days of his sophomore year.
He'd come across Jess flirting with some random guy at a Labor Day weekend house party in an effort to arouse his jealousy. But after spending most of the summer apart, and sober, except for a weekend jaunt to New York City to visit her (as if she'd bother coming to Riverdale), he didn't feel turned on. He just felt annoyed.
The fact he'd spent too much of his free time that summer reading at the Riverdale Public Library or watching old movies at the drive-in with Betty (whose dates with Trevor had also seemed to peter out), thereby rekindling his never really dormant crush, had also pretty much cooled him to the brunette girl.
So he'd just shrugged, grabbed a bottle of beer, and walked away, thereby giving Jess the go-ahead to stick her tongue down said random dude's mouth. Good riddance, he thought. He had promptly gotten drunk, though, more in pity for himself and his inability to act on his feelings for Betty than the end of that particular relationship.
That was the night he met Tabitha.
She was older, a senior. More mature. She offered him water and a patient ear when he wandered semi-inebriated into the apartment's kitchen.
They ended up talking half the night at a 24/7 diner that reminded him of Pop's, her listening sympathetically to his sob story about his shitty ex and the fact he was still partially hung up on a friend's sister from back home.
They didn't sleep together that night, but he had an inkling she was interested.
Sex would come a few days later, when she quietly seduced him after inviting him to her place for dinner. He hadn't really been looking for another girlfriend so fast, but Tabitha was kind and caring, and he let himself sink into it.
He cared for Tabitha, he really did. Maybe he even loved her on some level, for loving him. But there was no real spark, no moment of passion that threw him willingly and completely off balance. It was all very sweet and grounded and maybe the calmness he could use in the aftermath of Jess but certainly not the exciting, albeit healthy, push and pull he craved.
They remained together throughout his sophomore year, enjoying a pleasant, if boringly routine, relationship.
But as Tabitha's graduation approached, and she mentioned them becoming long distance when she moved to Chicago for business school, he clammed up. He knew deep down he didn't love her enough to want to commit to that and they very matter-of-factly parted ways in early May.
"I should have seen this coming," she whispered sadly in his ear before kissing him goodbye a final time.
It had hurt badly for a couple of days, but then the pain sort of washed away like rain after a nasty storm. He intrinsically understood they were never meant to be.
Betty's name being called out broke him from his memories. He watched, unwillingly captivated, as the blonde strolled across the stage to collect her diploma.
Archie whooped when she shook Principal Weatherbee's hand. Betty smiled and waved to her mom and Fred, who were standing and clapping.
Then, her eyes caught his. She smiled at him shyly at first, her teeth tugging against her lips, in that tempting way that drove him crazy.
Jughead couldn't help but grin back like a love-struck idiot.
Her smile widened in response, her pretty green eyes brightening, filling with a beautiful luster that had both his head and his heart openly throbbing.
God, he was fucked. Deeply and irrevocably fucked.
