Chapter 4: sometimes all I think about is you, late nights in the middle of June
You just need a better life than this
You need something I can never give
Fake water all across the road
It's gone now, the night has come, but
Sometimes, all I think about is you
Late nights in the middle of June
Heat waves been faking me out
Can't make you happier now
Heat Waves – Glass Animals
Things felt suspiciously normal when Betty came to meet them outside after the ceremony. She didn't look bothered or fidgety about seeing him at all. The glimpse of sadness he'd intuited before was gone. As if the harsh words he'd said after their tryst had never been spoken.
She glided down the school steps toward them, the blue graduation robe opened to reveal a silky ballerina pink dress that fell just below her mid-thigh and was cut in a tight, low V over her breasts.
Jughead stared at her, trying hard not to gape. He had been subdued by her beauty so many times before, but today, hours after having seen her coming undone for him, it was particularly blinding. He couldn't look away.
After hugging her parents, Archie, and Veronica, she smiled up at him.
"Congratulations, Betty," he murmured, his lips curling up softly.
He opened his arms to her, feeling nervous. It would be their first touch after hooking up, and he felt apprehensive about once again feeling her silhouette against his. As soon as she enfolded herself into his embrace, however, he felt his body relax.
"Thank you, Juggie," she whispered back.
He lingered in the hug for an extra moment, his eyes closing briefly as his nostrils filled with that intoxicating vanilla scent.
Soon enough, though, she stepped back, smiling warmly back up at the rest of their small party.
"Ready to roll?" Fred asked.
He had made reservations at the Italian restaurant La Cucina Sacasa for the six of them to celebrate. It was eerily similar to the evening of Jughead and Archie's graduation, just substituting FP for Veronica.
"Yes," Betty said. "Let me just say goodbye to the Kellers."
Jughead watched as the blonde darted in the direction of Kevin and his father, Tom, the town's sheriff, his eyes zeroing in on the shapely muscles of her calves straining in the strappy white kitten heels.
When he looked up from admiring her legs, he saw the two pals conferring. Betty was whispering intently to the brown-haired boy, while Kevin reassured her, sneaking not so covert glances at him.
Jughead didn't know how, but he could sense they were talking about him. He instantly started perspiring, the muggy night air not helping. Part of him was freaked out thinking Betty had clearly told her best friend about what happened. Kevin was a notorious gossip and blabbermouth. But he also knew the boy was loyal to Betty to a fault. Jughead was relatively certain he wouldn't say anything, if Betty asked him not to.
"What's with you?" Veronica asked him, as he audibly attempted to even his breathing. "You look like you just swallowed a toad."
"All copacetic," he responded monotonically.
She pursed her lips, but before she could interrogate him further, Betty was bounding back to their group.
"I'm ready," she announced.
"Do you want to drive over with us or in Archie's car?" Fred asked, as they started ambling over to the parking lot.
"I'll go with the gang if that's okay?" Betty said, looking over at her mom for approval.
"It's fine, sweetie," Alice replied, giving her daughter's hand a proud squeeze. "We'll see you there in 15 minutes."
He was sweating under his dress shirt again at the prospect of her sitting next to him in the backseat. Things seemed okay between them, but he prayed the ride, and the ensuing dinner, wouldn't be awkward. Luckily, Archie immediately cranked up the car's AC, simultaneously blasting the radio to some innocuous indie pop station.
The four of them speeding through the streets of Riverdale together felt like old times, specifically the summer Archie and Veronica had gotten together. A soundtrack of upbeat melodies and intimate banter. It was soothing, familiar. He felt himself visibly relaxing.
"I like the suspenders," Betty told him at one point, leaning over to the middle seat. He swallowed, his body uncontrollably tensing the closer she got to him. "How much did my mom hassle you about those?"
"Don't encourage his bizarre fashion choices, Bettykins," Veronica crooned.
Betty giggled while Jughead shot the brunette his middle finger.
"Although, I have to admit he cleans up handsomely enough," Veronica added, her tone still taunting, but slightly more conciliatory now.
"Be nice, Ronnie," Archie warned, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. His best friend and girlfriend bickering had long since become background noise to him.
"Thanks for the strong defense, Arch," Jughead mocked, his sarcasm obvious.
He turned back to look at Betty, who was conspicuously blushing. Apparently at the mention of how attractive he looked dressed up. He smirked at her and the pink flush on her skin deepened.
Jughead didn't understand how one moment his heart could be beating out of its chest anxiously at the fact she was near, and the next he felt completely relaxed and was enjoying teasing her and making her nervous. Only she seemed to have that power over him.
Chill, Jughead, he told himself. Friends. Just friends. Earlier had been a mistake. A glorious and spectacular mistake, but one that shouldn't be repeated. He'd put his crush aside before. He could do it again. Now was no different.
Archie was soon parking the car and they filed into the restaurant, meeting Fred and Alice inside. After ordering a variety of classic Italian dishes to share, Fred requested a bottle of champagne and six glasses for the table.
"Fred, they're underage," Alice nagged, shooting him a look when the waitress was out of earshot. She was definitely the stricter, less fun-loving parent of the two.
"Lighten up, Allie," he said, winking conspiratorially at Archie and Betty. "One drink. It's a celebration."
Alice huffed, but they all knew it was an act. Fred could pretty much wheedle her into anything. She'd softened quite a bit since their close friendship gradually developed into something more in the wake of Hal's death and Fred's divorce.
"Did you speak to your sister, sweetie?" she asked Betty.
"Yes, she FaceTimed me right before the ceremony. Said she's sorry she had to miss it and that she loves me."
"Where is Polly, exactly? Is she really spending her entire summer on a farm?" Veronica, the consummate city girl, asked, wrinkling her nose.
Fred laughed. "Our Polly has always been something of a free spirit."
"You can say that again," Jughead muttered under his breath. Not that he had anything against the 21-year-old whose bedroom he was now inhabiting. He'd grown up with Polly, just as he had Betty, and he had fond adolescent memories of the elder Cooper. But everyone knew she and Jason were kind of kooky and quite liable to wind up popping out half a dozen babies and joining some vegetable cult.
"She was apparently off to 'twilight meditation under the emerging stars' when we hung up," Betty said, barely able to suppress a giggle. Jughead snickered in response.
"Okay, that's enough you two," Alice chided. "Pauline is following her passion, and we're letting her explore that. Even if it's peculiar."
Jughead held his tongue, his body vibrating as he chuckled to himself at Alice's half-hearted rebuttal. Even she knew her elder daughter was eccentric. Betty caught his eye and made a silly face to him. He almost burst out laughing. Luckily, at that moment, the champagne arrived and the waitress began to pour their glasses.
"To Betty, my wonderful step-daughter," Fred toasted, once each of them had a flute in hand. "Love you, kiddo."
"Hear hear," Veronica interrupted, prompting everyone to laugh.
"Alice," Fred added, "You're the public speaker of the family. Want to take it from here?"
"Well, let me think," the woman said, pulling her shoulders back and straightening her hair as she prepared to address the table.
Jughead rolled his eyes to Archie. As if Alice hadn't come prepared with a speech she'd been working on for weeks in advance. Archie chortled in response.
"Betty, honey, you've grown into an incredible young woman. Beautiful inside and out. I can't believe you've finished high school and that the last of our babies is leaving the house."
The blonde blushed furiously at the attention, and Jughead smiled softly to himself. She was undeniably adorable when she did that.
"Our family cherishes and appreciates everything you do and how hard you've worked," Alice continued. "And even though over the objections of the school board, Principal Weatherbee decided to bring in some 'inspirational' guest speaker instead of the standard valedictory address, we applaud you for finishing high school at the top of your class."
Archie kicked Jughead's chair under the table, and he laughed aloud. Of course, Alice was still salty over Betty being valedictorian but not being given the chance to speak at the ceremony.
"Boys," Fred scolded and they sat back shamefaced as if they were seven again. Veronica rolled her eyes at them.
"In any case," Alice said, taking a second to shoot the two of them a disdainful look at being interrupted. "As I was saying, we're so proud of you, Betty, and we're so thrilled you'll be at Centerville with Archie next year, double majoring in journalism and criminology. Following in my and your father's footsteps."
Jughead's eyes widened. This was news, at least to him. He knew Betty had been debating between the full scholarship Centerville offered and attending Yale. He remembered them texting about it in the days before things really started deteriorating with Tabitha, but he hadn't realized she'd made a final decision. Why hadn't she told him?
"He'd be so proud of you, sweetie," Alice continued, dabbing away at the tears that had formed. Fred rubbed her hand consolingly.
"Thanks, Mom," Betty said, squeezing her mother's other hand.
"To Betty. We love you," Alice finished the toast, and they all clinked glasses.
"Can't wait to have my little sis along with my best guy and my best girl with me at school," Archie threw in happily after they'd all taken a sip, or, in Jughead's case, a large gulp. He was very much still processing.
"Thanks, bro," Betty replied, affectionately mocking Archie's frat-boy vocabulary.
As the conversation around them resumed, she turned to look at him, trying to gauge his response. A small leftover smile played on her lips.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," she murmured, low enough so the rest of the table couldn't hear. "I thought it would be a nice surprise."
Jughead nodded, feeling a knot in his throat, but also a strange acceptance. Beyond anything else, he reminded himself, Betty was his friend. He cared about her sincerely. That meant wanting her to go to school wherever she was happiest. Even if it made handling his immense feelings for her that much harder by having her nearby.
"It is," he reassured her, breaking into a genuine smile in spite of himself.
Four days had passed since the incident, as Jughead had started to privately refer to it.
Betty had been on constant replay in his mind. He couldn't deny it. But he'd been carefully circumventing situations where he might find himself alone with her for fear of giving in to temptation. It seemed to be working. They interacted in the mornings and evenings when he wasn't at work in the kitchen, living room and backyard, but never for significant amounts of time or without at least Archie or one of the parents present.
A bigger test had been the previous night. They'd gone as a group to Pop's for dinner and then a screening of "Roman Holiday" at the Twilight. Despite the supremely romantic movie, and Archie and Veronica making out what felt like every five minutes, he'd only thought about pushing her up against the side of the projection booth and kissing her a handful of times. More than he wanted, but still better than if they were alone.
She had caught him, however, surreptitiously wiping a tear away at the heartbreaking final scene when Gregory Peck's character walks out of the embassy alone. The intense yet tender way she'd looked at him in that moment had felt in a way even more intimate than the afternoon in his bed several days before.
Needless to say, trying to get thoughts of Betty Cooper out of his head was an exercise in futility.
It was Friday now, and Jughead was beyond ready for the weekend. Between the manual labor of his job and the feverish mental gymnastics to avoid picturing Betty naked every five minutes (not to mention keeping the whole ordeal a secret), he was exhausted from this week.
He and Archie had finished at the site around 6 in the evening and headed home together. They greeted Alice, who was putting dinner on the table, before heading up to the second story.
"You need a shower, bro, you stink," Archie told him as they clambered up the stairs.
"Because you smell like sunshine and rainbows, Archiekins," he mocked, co-opting Veronica's ridiculous pet name for the redhead.
Archie laughed, disappearing into his room. Jughead entered his as well, heading straight for the bathroom. But the door didn't budge when he pulled the handle. Betty must have locked it from the other side. He could hear peals of feminine laughter from behind the door—her and Veronica.
Jughead sighed. His whole body felt heavy and annoyed. He headed back into the hallway, pushing open the door to Betty's room to request access to the bathroom just as the two girls were exiting from there, Veronica brandishing a mascara wand.
He stopped short as he caught sight of Betty.
She was dressed in a mauve A-line gown, cut in a deep V-neck and decorated with flowing tulle and floral appliques. Her blonde hair was down in waves, falling on one side against her exquisite cleavage. She looked like an absolute goddess.
Before his thinking capacity completely short-circuited, he remembered. Betty's prom was tonight. For some odd scheduling reason, the Five Seasons was hosting the dance after the seniors had already graduated. He momentarily recalled Veronica mentioning the night before she'd come over to do the blonde's makeup.
"Forsythe," Veronica announced. "What do you want?"
Jughead ignored her question, his eyes too fixated on Betty. It took a moment for his brain to send the proper signals to his mouth to speak.
"You…you look…pretty," he managed hoarsely. Pretty? He wanted to hit himself. Try phenomenal, gorgeous, stunning.
"She's a total smokeshow," Veronica responded gaily. "These Riverdale boys aren't going to know what hit them."
Jughead certainly felt as if he were being punched in the gut. Veronica had no idea how true her words were.
"Stop V," Betty protested, recognizing the distress in Jughead's eyes that only she could decipher. She looked up at him, smiling softly. "Thank you. What's up, Jug?"
"Uh, just wanted to check if the shower is free," he said, tilting his head to the room.
"As you can obviously see, my work here is done," Veronica purred dramatically, before Betty could respond. "A masterpiece of epic proportions if I do say so myself."
Jughead still had enough of his wits about him to roll his eyes and Betty bit back a laugh.
Before the brunette could wax even more poetic, her phone started ringing and she grabbed the device from off of Betty's vanity table.
"Sorry B, Daddy is calling. I'll see you downstairs in a jiff. You look magnifique," Veronica trilled, waltzing out of the door and presumably down the hall to take the call in Archie's room.
Jughead stared at Betty dumbly for another moment, before mumbling, "I guess that's my cue."
He turned in the direction of the bathroom, pausing when he heard her shaky voice calling him back.
"I…uh…Jughead, wait."
"What's up?" he asked, tilting his head to her, his irises immediately reigniting at seeing her once more in that dress.
"Are you sure I look okay? Veronica always exaggerates…"
The self-consciousness in her timbre touched something deep in his core. How could she of all people be worried she didn't look good? She was so beautiful.
As if in a trance, he turned his whole body back toward her, walking the few lengths to bridge the gap between them.
"Yes," he answered, seriously, his eyes filling darkly with want and his voice falling to a whisper as he added, "You look breathtaking."
"Jug," she whimpered.
That voice. That sultry, breathy voice. Involuntarily mewling his name. Fuck. He couldn't take it any longer.
He leaned forward slightly, his right palm reaching up to brush against her cheek. She sank into his touch, her feline-like eyes lowering but not closing, staying trained on his.
With his other hand, he touched the small of her back, pulling her into him, so their lips just coasted. It wasn't nearly enough. He pressed forward, enveloping her in a dizzying kiss.
Her hands immediately flew to the nape of his neck, as she tilted her face to provide him more access to her hopeful, needy lips. He kissed her hungrily, thoroughly, tasting every bit of her he could. How had he refrained for four days? He felt like a man starved now. He began to move his lips down to her neck to nibble at her delicious skin. Betty's name rang out at that exact moment.
The sound of Alice calling to inform her Kevin had arrived to pick her up clanged in his ears and the two of them rapidly sprang apart.
He panted from halfway across the room, watching her uneasily as she smoothed down the skirt of her dress and attempted to blot her lips together to minimize the smudging.
"I…I should go," she murmured as an apology, looking down flustered, turning even more so when she saw the start of a bulge in his jeans.
"Yeah," he sighed, running an unsteady hand through his wavy hair in a fruitless effort to calm himself. "Of course. Have a good time, Betts."
He scrambled back into the bathroom before she could say goodbye, his mind in overdrive.
He took a quick shower, just the bare bones to clean himself. After toweling off, he threw on his favorite gray S t-shirt and a fresh pair of boxers, before laying straight on his bed and gawking at the ceiling. He felt pitifully immobile, yet also unbelievably fitful.
Archie promptly arrived a few minutes later.
"Hey man, you coming to dinner?" he asked from the doorway. "Veronica and I also thought about hitting up the Whyte Wyrm for drinks later. You down?"
"No, man, I'm super beat. Think I'm just gonna crash," Jughead answered, his voice close to expressionless.
It's not as if in normal circumstances he'd be very interested in hanging out at his father's old biker haunt with a bunch of drunks, despite it being the only real bar in town. But he would have gone for lack of something better to do. Tonight, however, he did not feel normal. Far from it.
Archie looked at him strangely, but didn't press him. "Okay. I think we're gonna sleep at Ronnie's place tonight, so I'll catch you later."
Jughead just nodded, closing his eyes, until he heard the redhead's retreating footsteps.
Once Archie was gone, he resumed his staring contest with the ceiling.
For the first time in his life, he wasn't remotely hungry. Not in the least bit. In fact, his stomach felt as if it were tied in knots.
He'd sworn to himself he wouldn't let this happen again. And he'd failed. Miserably. Now he couldn't think of anything but her.
Goddamnit, he cursed himself inwardly. He'd royally screwed this up. Why couldn't he have walked away four days ago? Just kept making his way down the hallway despite the erotic display he'd seen and the beyond sensual way she'd whimpered his name. Was he such a glutton for punishment? Did he have no backbone against impulse? For someone so used to not getting what he wanted, why hadn't he just accepted his lot? Why had he tempted fate?
The see-saw between bottomless self-pity and a visceral ache for Betty's kiss consumed him all night. He tried to close his eyes, but sleep wouldn't come. On reflex, he started touching himself to thoughts of her in that dress. Almost immediately, though, he felt revolted by the impulse. He virtually sprinted to the bathroom to take a cold shower to cool his raging arousal.
The hours passed and nothing helped. He was a complete mess.
Sometime after midnight, he heard her door closing in the distance. She was back. He felt an acute need to be near her, to talk to her. Anything. She was the only one who could solve this.
Jughead heard the heavy sound of water running in the bathroom and he knew she was taking a shower. Now was his chance.
Feeling powerless over his own body, he snuck into the darkened hallway, slinking into her room and locking the door behind him.
He sat down on the window seat to wait. Minutes, stretching like hours, went by, until he heard the faucet shutting off, followed by the whir of a blow dryer. Another few endless minutes, until that, too, quieted. His whole body thrummed in anticipation.
Jughead rose as the bathroom door finally started to open.
She came out in a light gray satin kimono robe, her blonde hair damp and curling against her chin. He was practically salivating at the sight of her smooth exposed legs. How could she possibly look even more gorgeous now than she had earlier in the evening?
Betty began to examine herself in the vanity mirror, soon catching sight of him in the reflection. She nearly jumped out of her skin upon seeing him.
"Jug," she gasped, her hands clutching her chest as she turned toward him. "You scared me."
"Sorry," he whispered, or mouthed, or thought. He wasn't sure. He wasn't sure of anything at this point.
What are you doing here?" she asked urgently.
"Betty," he breathed out, his voice a tortured sigh. "I can't stop thinking about you."
