As they cross into the neighboring town of Greendale, Betty can't help but think this was a bad idea. What was she thinking? This guy has been to jail and she just decided to hop on his motorcycle?
Not far after the Welcome to Greendale road sign, Jughead takes a hard right onto a dirt path that's slightly hidden from the road. Betty's heart races as they weave through trees and come to a stop in an overgrown clearing. Jughead cuts the engine and helps Betty off the back. As he dismounts himself, Betty backs away slowly, giving herself a chance to run if she has to.
Jughead laughs, startling her from her hyper focus on his movements.
"Thought I didn't scare you," he growls, lunging towards her and causing her to jump. Betty glares and crosses her arms over her chest. She scolds herself for coming here with him and storms off back towards the tree line.
"Awe come on. I was just fucking with you," he calls as he catches up to her in a few short strides. "Betty," he says firmly, pulling her to a stop with a solid grip on her bicep.
"I should have never come here with you," she hollers, shoving him back and continuing her way towards the road.
"Are you crying," Jughead questions, but Betty ignores him entirely. His gut twists at the mere thought that he's made her cry. "I'm sorry," he calls out, dropping his face into his palm as he falls behind her angry pace.
Betty stops mid stride. "Are you really," she questions angrily.
"Yes. Really," he assures her.
Betty turns to face him with a disapproving scowl. He closes the distance between them, standing before her and lifts the hem of his t-shirt to dab at her tear dampened cheeks.
"I never meant to make you cry," he apologizes in a tone softer than she's ever heard him speak before and she can see the regret in his eyes. For a moment, she finds herself drawn into his smoky blue gaze.
"Why did you bring me here," she asks harshly as she takes a step back. He drops his head, rubbing at the back of his neck and Betty is once again thrown off by his seemingly uncharacteristic behavior.
"Can you trust me," he asks doubtfully.
"No," she almost laughs.
Jughead sighs, "I expected as much. Come with me anyways?" He holds out his hand for her to take. She silently questions his motives and her own sanity, then takes his hand. With the slightest flicker of a smile, he leads her back out towards the clearing.
The grassy clearing eventually turns to cliff edge, giving way to a breathtaking view of the entirety of Riverdale. Betty comes to a stop a few feet from the edge, and yanks her hand out of Jughead's. As confusion settles over his features, she studies him for a moment. For all she knows he brought her out here to push her over the ledge and she's not about to find out the hard way.
"Will you sit with me," he asks sheepishly as he dangles his feet over the edge.
His shaky plea and the way he's watching only his hands as he cracks his knuckles in his lap brings something of relief to Betty. Cautiously, she walks nearer to the edge.
"I won't let you fall," he promises softly as he offers her a hand in settling beside him.
"What are we doing here," she asks just above a whisper, unwilling to disrupt the stillness of the evening air.
"You see that over there," he points towards the right where street lights have begun to light up on every corner. "That's where you live. And you see that, over there," he points to the left at a particularly dark area that Betty can just make out if she squints. "That's where I live."
Betty slowly turns her head, raising a brow as she tries hard to contain her smirk, "Really Jughead? You brought me all the way out here so you could make the point that you're from the Southside and I'm from the Northside?"
Jughead glares in her direction as he leans back on his hands and returns his gaze to the view in front of them. "As I was saying, that wonderful dark patch is Sunnyside trailer park. So if you look over there, where that weird red light is-"
"Uh-huh," she squints to see it.
"That, is the Whyte Wyrm."
"Ok," she questions. "What does a biker bar have to do with anything?"
"Bear with me," he says, holding up a hand in pause. "Almost in the middle there," he points again, "is the drive in, and that lovely little neighborhood way over there on the outskirts is where the Bloom family lives."
"Ok? So what," she questions expectantly as he seems to be finished talking.
"Can you guess what they all have in common," he asks as he fishes his pack of smokes from his jacket.
Betty ponders his odd question, trying to piece it together as she watches him light his cigarette. She's mesmerized by his cool intake of breath and the rapid stream of smoke that emerges from his lips upon his exhale.
"I don't know," she whispers before averting her attention from his mouth.
Jughead nods and exhales another lungful of smoke, "They're all places I've lived."
"You lived at the drive in," she questions in disbelief.
"For six months," he admits with a slow nod of his head.
"Why," she scoffs.
"Because some of us aren't lucky enough to have parents that give a damn," he clips. His thumb and forefinger come to pinch the bridge of his nose as he sighs heavily. "I'm sorry."
"No. I'm sorry," she tells him out of shame. "For whatever reason you shared something personal with me and I'm being a bitch."
Jughead looks to her from beneath his lashes and worries his bottom lip.
"Go on," she encourages.
"You asked if I went to juvie," he reiterates with a sigh, "I did. For a week."
"What did you do," she asks nervously.
"Went to a party with some friends down at Sweetwater over the summer," he shrugs. "Cops were called and I took the fall so my baby sister could get away. I got booked for underage drinking and she went off to live with our mom in Toledo. After a week in the hall, I was placed under the care of the Bloom family I mentioned earlier. Technically I still live with them, on paper, but they let me stay at my dad's."
"Wait, you have a sister," Betty questions with enthusiasm.
"Uh, yea. Her names Jellybean."
A smile tugs at the corner of Betty's lips and Jughead rolls his eyes upon catching it.
"What's she like?"
"A lot like you actually," he replies with a nervous rub to his neck.
"How so?"
"She's not afraid to put me in my place when I'm being a dick," he grins, finally bringing his gaze to meet hers. "You can't even imagine how annoying it is to have people cower in fear at your very presence."
Betty chuckles lightly before falling silent for a moment. "I imagine it's a lot like having people walk on eggshells around you, as if you're something fragile to be broken."
"I suppose it's similar," he nods. "You don't seem so fragile to me."
"Oh, I'm not," she assures him. "Never have been. It's the whole blonde hair, five foot two thing that makes people think so. Well, that and the fact that I watched my father brutally murder my older sister," she shrugs.
"I'm sorry, what," he chokes out, straightening up to stare wildly in her direction.
"It was all over the news, I'm surprised you never saw anything about it," she shrugs.
"I- I don't even know what to say," he tells her, shaking his head in disbelief.
"It's fine," she assures him, reaching over to cover his hand with her own, "It happened a few years ago."
Jughead continues to shake his head as a sad smile touches his lips. "You're not at all what I thought you were."
"Neither are you," she murmurs, offering a gentle smile as their eyes meet.
Jughead finds himself lost in her emerald stare that seems to glimmer with flecks of gold in the warm light of the setting sun. The weight of her hand on his suddenly consumes the focus of his mind and his eyes flicker briefly to her lips. He clears his throat, pulling his hand away to rub his sweaty palms on his jeans.
"I should get you back. Your friends probably think I kidnapped you," he chuckles awkwardly.
"Oh. Right, yea. They're probably worried," she agrees as she watches Jughead dust off his jeans upon standing.
As she begins to stand herself, the bit of gravel under her supporting foot crumbles away from the ledge. Before she can even cry out in fear, she collides into Jughead's chest with a startled gasp.
"Told you I wouldn't let you fall," he smirks, mere inches from her face. Betty lets out a shaky breath, suddenly very aware of the heat radiating between them and the tight grip of his arms around her waist. She quickly collects herself, swallowing hard as she puts some space between them.
"We should go," she says, hardly above a whisper.
Jughead nods as his features settle into an expression she has yet to witness. It's something of disappointment, maybe anguish or self-abasement, but she can't quite place it. Whatever it is, she suddenly feels terrible for her previous judgment of him and she is determined to find out who he truly is beneath his hardened exterior.
After checking at Pop's to find Veronica and Archie had already left, Jughead offered Betty a ride home. She politely declined, in part due to the fact that her mother would surely die of a heart attack if she was to be seen on the back of a motorcycle. Mostly, Betty needed a moment to think, and the walk home proved to be the perfect opportunity to get her head straight. So far, all she knows about Jughead is that he went to Juvie for something teens get away with all the time, and he'd only been caught to protect his little sister, who he is very fond of. He likes to read, but refuses to properly check out a book from the library. He never seems to have lunch, and the mention of him starving brings her to realize that he doesn't get to eat often. Outside of that, the only other thing she is certain of is that she had wanted to kiss him countless times this evening, which perhaps raises the most questions in her mind of it all.
"I can't do this," Betty states firmly as she slams her school issued notebook down onto principal Weatherbee's desk. She'd made sure to rip out all of the pages she'd written on beforehand.
"Miss Cooper, I thought we had an agreement," he questions in surprise.
"I refuse to be your spy any longer-"
"Spy? I hardly think wanting to know if our new student is a danger to others calls for such dramatics."
"Oh please," Betty huffs. "Personally, I think Jughead is good person who's been handed some bad cards, and I refuse to become another. If you want to keep tabs on him, you're going to have to find someone else, because I'm done." She quickly turns on her heels to hurry out of his office. As she rounds the corner, she slam straight into someone in her haste to get to first period.
"Watch it blondie," Jughead huffs, catching her under the elbow.
Betty swallows hard, reading the anger in his gaze as she quickly rights herself.
"Sorry," she mutters under his glare before he walks off. "Jughead," she calls out once he's a few strides away.
He pauses and does a slow turn to face her with his brow lowered.
Betty worries her lip, suddenly feeling as though their friendly encounter last Friday was meaningless to the once again hostile boy before her.
"Well? What do you want," he grits, shoving his hands into his pockets at his sides.
"I- are you ok," she questions softly, taking a cautious step towards him.
Jughead huffs a laugh through his nose, "What do you care," he mutters before hurrying off in the opposite direction. It takes every ounce of her restraint not to run after him, but his interrogation will have to wait until after her exam.
At lunch, Betty heads straight for her next class, knowing that Jughead will be there. Upon her arrival, she's surprised to find he isn't. So, she checks the only other place he's sure to be.
"You're avoiding me," Betty declares, lowering Jughead's book from his face with a firm press of her fingertips on the pages. Only his eyes move upward to glare at her from under his brow.
"What do you want," he mumbles, his upper lip curling slightly.
"What do I want," Betty reiterates as she takes a seat at the large study desk across from him.
Jughead sighs, his eyes rolling slightly as he places his book face down on the table.
"I want to know what the hell your problem is," she demands, earning a shush from the librarian as she folds her arms over her chest to glare back at him.
"You want to know what my problem is," he whispers, leaning forward on his elbows, "my problem is you."
"Me? What did I do?"
"You're really gonna sit here and act like you didn't rat on me this morning," he huffs, leaning back in his chair to fold his arms over his chest. "You almost had me fooled. I thought maybe after Friday you might see me even a little bit differently, but you're exactly the goody two shoes bitch I expected you to be." Without even a chance to reply, Jughead tucks his book under his arm and storms out of the library.
It takes Betty a moment to realize he too had hoped their dynamic had changed. She feels terrible that he thinks she would stoop so low and she's determined to make him see the truth.
Rushing into the parking lot, Betty just barely makes it out the front doors of the school to catch Jughead as he mounts his bike. She runs full speed towards him, nearly diving to get in front of him as his bike begins to roll.
"Are you fucking crazy," he clips, flipping up the visor on his helmet.
"I didn't-" she pants, shaking her head, "Weatherbee. I didn't-"
"Fucking hell," he grumbles, cutting the engine and yanking off his helmet. He remains seated on his bike, his helmet rested beneath his elbow on his thigh as he pinches the bridge of his nose, awaiting her explanation.
"I didn't rat on you," she tells him, biting at her lower lip in anticipation of his response.
"Sure," he scoffs.
"I backed out," she admits, a cautious smile touching the edge of her lips as she reaches out to cover his hand as she had the other night. Jughead glances down at her hand atop his before shrugging her off.
"Why," he wonders in disgust.
"Because, you're not a bad person Jug," she tells him with pure honesty on her tongue. She again reaches out for him, "I don't want you to look back on this and remember me as someone who made your life harder than it already was."
"Why should I believe you," he questions under his breath as his eyes flicker down to Betty's fingers threading between his own.
"What reason do I have to lie to you?"
Jughead nods slowly, watching her thumb as it brushes gently against his own. His brow remains heavy as his gaze shifts to meet hers. The amount of distrust in his tired eyes pains her to no end. With a heavy sigh, Jughead separates their conjoined hands to tug his helmet back on. She's startled back as he kicks his bike to a start and without even a single glance more in her direction, he's gone.
