After setting the table that night, Betty and her mother sit down to dinner. It still feels strange to be at the table, though it's been a regular thing for a few months now. Alice, her mother, has been a wreck for nearly two years. Dinner was hardly ever made, and Betty had to fend for herself most nights, though she often chose to go without as she went through her own struggle.

The summer after freshman year, Betty's sister, Polly, who was a junior at the time, found herself pregnant. She hid it well for a long time, but as it became harder to hide, she was found out by their mother. Alice, while not happy, had been supportive. Hal on the other hand was furious. Betty has always known her father to be a bit cruel but she'd never imagined he'd be capable of murder, much less the slitting of his first child's throat. Betty and her mother had witnessed the whole thing as they pleaded for her to be released from his hold, but their cries only fueled his rage. The horrifying incident changed both the Cooper women, Alice for worse, but Betty gained a sort of strength from it.

"How was school," Alice asks flatly as she portions out salad onto Betty's plate.

"Fine I guess," she shrugs, "Weatherbee asked me to be a judge of character for a new student."

Alice looks up from her own portion of salad and raises a disapproving but curious brow. "Why," she scoffs.

Betty shrugs again, "I guess this kid's got a record and Weatherbee wants a student's perspective of his behavior.

"That's highly inappropriate. He could be dangerous."

"Hardly," Betty laughs as she spears a bit of cucumber on her fork. "Personally, I think he's got mommy issues or something. He doesn't scare me."

"He," she questions angrily, her fork clanging to the table as she stands and makes a bee line for the phone. "I am going to speak with your principal about this. No daughter of mine is going to be hanging around a dangerous boy to access his inappropriate behavior!"

"Mom, stop," Betty clips, hurrying to press the hanger to end the call to the school.

"Elizabeth-"

"Please. I need this," she pleads.

Alice lowers the phone and stares in confusion. "What do you need with some juvenile?"

"I just- I want to feel useful again. This is the first meaningful thing Weatherbee has asked me to do since-"

Alice nods slowly, "fine, but if this boy so much as looks at you wrong I will put an end to this foolishness."

Betty nods excitedly before the two return to finish dinner at the table.

For the rest if the week, Betty watches Jughead like a hawk. She keeps a journal of his behavior, both good and bad, to report back to Weatherbee at the end of his trial month. On Tuesday, she caught him stealing a bag of cheese curls from the lunch cart. On Wednesday, she spotted him pocketing a book from the library, which she found peculiar considering it's free to borrow books. By Thursday, she'd begun to feel bad for him. Not a single person has tried to befriend him. He sits alone in an empty classroom every lunch period, either with a stolen bag of chips or nothing at all and he just looks miserable all the time.

At lunch on Friday, Betty waits in line to buy lunch for the first time since freshman year. She piles it high with an assortment of things earning curious stares from her usual friend group.

"Big appetite today," Archie asks as she nears their usual table.

"Very funny," she grins, "it's for a friend."

"Ooh, are you crushing on your Weatherbee project," Veronica teases.

"Not in a million years," she laughs. "It's more of a peace offering. He's not particularly fond of me."

"I can't say I'd be fond of the person who could send me back to juvie either," Archie laughs.

"Good point," Betty chuckles. "See you guys at Pop's later?"

"Of course," Veronica beams, tugging on Archie's arm excitedly.

Betty offers a smile before exiting the lunch room.

Without a word, Betty walks into the classroom, as she had upon their first meeting, and places the tray of food on the desk in front of Jughead. She takes her own seat and begins to go over her homework from the night before.

Jughead looks over the top of his book to quirk a brow at the tray of food before him, then to the infuriating girl who'd brought it to him.

"What's the catch," he questions, setting his book beside the tray to glare in her direction.

"No catch," she replies, not even bothering to look up from her work.

Cautiously, Jughead picks up a fry and examines it thoroughly before placing it in his mouth. His stomach growls as he swallows it down, reminding him that he hasn't had a decent meal all week. With the sound of a burger wrapper, Betty turns and offers a gentle smile before returning to her homework. Something about his hesitancy makes her hurt for him. She ponders how an act as simple as offering him a decent lunch can bring him so much suspicion towards her intentions.

Betty chuckles to herself as Jughead empties his tray of wrappers into the waste bin.

"What," he grits through a mouthful.

Betty shakes her head, "I've just never seen someone eat so much," she laughs.

Jughead cocks a brow. Yyea, well starving will do that," he clips in annoyance before heading back to his seat.

"So," Betty begins after a moment of silence between them, "if I can't call you Forsythe, what do I call you?"

"Jughead," he mumbles.

"Jughead," she questions, turning in her seat to stare in disbelief. "You're screwing with me aren't you?"

"Nope," he clips, not bothering to look up from his reading.

"Ok, Jughead. What's your deal?"

"Other than the fact that you're annoying," he questions with a scowl.

"What's your problem with me? I've done nothing to you," she scoffs.

Jughead drops his book to glare straight through her. "No, you just follow me around and write down everything I do so you can help your principal get me kicked out."

"It will be your own fault if you get kicked out," she argues in a huff.

"Always is," he mutters, opening his book once again. Betty bites her tongue with the defeat in his tone.

With the last bell, Betty collects her things from her locker. As she shuts the door, she catches a glimpse of Jughead scowling in her direction from across the hall. Before she can confront him, he slips out the front doors. Betty hurries to follow but he's already on his motorcycle before she can catch up.

As she walks into Pop's Chock-lit Shoppe behind Archie and Veronica, she can't help but feel like a third wheel. The three of them have been friends since the eighth grade, but the whole dynamic has changed since they've started dating. Betty feels like she's crashing their date, but they insist on her tagging along.

"Oh great," Jughead grumbles from the counter as Betty walks through the door. "What are you doing here," he asks with irritation heavy in his tone.

"We come here every Friday," she scoffs toward his scowling face.

"Noted," he huffs, pushing past her for the exit.

Pop Tate comes to the counter, a bag of food in hand and a look of confusion on his features.

"Is that for Jughead," Betty asks quietly as Veronica and Archie step away to take their seat in their usual booth.

"It was. The poor boy practically lives off of coffee, sitting in here at all hours of the night. I thought he could use a decent meal," Pop Tate replies with a sadness Betty has never heard in his voice before.

"I'll take it to him," Betty offers, with her sweet Cooper smile.

"Oh, would you," Pop beams.

"Of course," she smiles, taking the bag from him and hurrying out to the parking lot.

She finds Jughead leaned against his bike with a cigarette in his hand and a deep set scowl on his face.

"Fuck do you want," he grits, spitting on the ground at his feet. Betty holds out the bag of food to him, but he just glares at it.

"Quit buying me food. I don't need your help," he clips.

Betty shoves the bag into his chest and he clutches it in one arm before it can fall to the ground.

"Suck up your pride and stop being so ungrateful," she scolds. "I didn't buy it, Pop made it for you. Not that you deserve it." With that, she turns promptly on her heels to head back inside.

"Your right," he mutters as he sets the bag on the seat of his bike, causing Betty to pause where she stands. "I don't deserve it." With the crushing tone of his voice, Betty squeezes her eyes shut, regretting what she'd just said to him.

"I didn't mean that," she tells him apologetically as she turns back to face him.

"A part of you meant it or you wouldn't have said it."

"I don't even know you. I had no right-"

"It's fine," he clips, cutting her off.

"Did you really go to juvie," Betty asks suddenly.

Jughead huffs a laugh through his nose and stubs out his smoke with the toe of his boot on the asphalt.

"Yea," he admits sounding a bit guilty.

"Why," she wonders as she steps toward him.

His brow flicks upward as he watches her approach, narrowing his eyes as she pauses less than an arms-length away.

"Wouldn't you like to know," he scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Fine. Don't tell me. See you Monday," she huffs, turning on her heels to storm back inside.

As he watches her walk away, he can't shake the itch to tell her that he's innocent. Make her see that he's really not so bad. In three long strides, he steps in front of her, stopping her dead in her tracks.

"Will you go somewhere with me?"

"What? Now? Why would I go anywhere with you," Betty argues, taking a step back from him. Her heart sinks as she watches the hope in his eyes fade away and change to something resembling that of a kicked puppy. His shoulders slump before he recovers his scowl and storms back to his bike. With the rev of the engine, Betty makes a split second decision.

"Jughead, wait," she pleads, gripping his forearm.

"Its fine blondie. Forget I asked," he huffs, shaking her off.

Betty rolls her eyes and gets on the back of his bike regardless. He looks over his shoulder cocking a brow at her. Betty stares expectantly and he shakes his head before tugging her arms around his waist.