It's been three days since Betty began her journey back home to Riverdale. Rides were easy to come by in the city but once she'd crossed into New Mexico, people were less willing to offer and there were fewer options. Her last ride had fortunately dropped her off a few miles from the small town she now finds herself walking towards. Three trailer trucks and two suv's have whizzed by her without a glance over the past two hours. Her hopes aren't high when she again sticks out her thumb to an oncoming trailer truck and she's hardly surprised when it doesn't even slow down.

Thirty minutes later, she reaches town. There's a gas station, a couple of older looking houses and a second, much larger gas station with an attached restaurant and a massive parking lot. As she comes up on it, she examines the handful of trailer trucks in the lot and decides it's her best shot for a ride and a much needed glass of water.

Entering the store, she sighs with relief as the cool air conditioning washes over her overheated body. She quickly takes a table in the quaint diner style restaurant off to the left of the convenience store and takes in her surroundings. There's three rough looking old men sitting at a table in the middle of the floor. She decides against that option quickly when one of them flashes her a toothless grin and a very unsettling wink. Averting her attention to another older man sitting alone with a newspaper, she thinks he looks mildly approachable. Before she has a chance to get up, he pays his bill and hurries out the door.

"What can I get you dear," asks the obviously fake blonde waitress Betty had seen when she walked in. Her smile is genuine but she looks tired for her age.

"A water would be lovely," Betty replies sweetly and the waitress nods before quickly returning with a tall glass of ice water. She sips at it steadily and keeps an eye out for potential rides.

Across the diner, she spots a large black combat boot hanging out over the edge of a booth that's just out of sight. The bathrooms are across from the booth and it's a great excuse to do some investigating. As she walks past the booth, she eyes the combat boots owner. She allows her eyes to linger when she realizes he's asleep with an odd crown rimmed beanie pulled down over his eyes. He's thin and lanky, dressed in dark jeans and a tshirt with a large S on the front of it. She assumes he's younger, but without seeing his face, she could be wrong.

After spending far too long examining the sleeping man, she ducks into the bathroom to make sure she gets the opportunity before finding her ticket home. She primps in the mirror, making sure to look as put together as possible after walking in the sweltering heat, before heading back out to confront the man asleep in the booth. He's still sound asleep when she takes a seat across from him and she contemplates for a moment before clearing her throat loudly. The man startles awake, sitting up and glancing around in confusion. Betty can't help but laugh before his eyes land on her and she falls silent. Betty was right, he is young, much younger than she'd thought, and handsome. The scowl he's giving her shouldn't be so sexy, but she is definitely interested in more than a quick ride in his car.

"Can I help you," he grumbles sleepily. His voice is far sexier than she'd anticipated, deep and gravely with sleep.

"Uhm, yes. Maybe," she stutters, trying to scrape her jaw off the floor. "I need a ride," she says simply.

"And," he questions, cocking a brow.

"I was hoping maybe you could give me one," she says hopefully.

"Sorry princess. Looks like those guys wouldn't mind taking you for a ride," he teases, nodding toward the rough group of men still eyeing her from across the room. Betty glares at him and he laughs before getting up, leaving his unpaid bill on the table in front of her. She can't even believe how rude this guy is but something about him interests her. She leaves cash on the table to cover his bill and a tip for the waitress before storming out to the parking lot.

She spots him quickly, leaned back against a trailer truck with a cigarette hanging from his lips. She marches over to him angrily, coming to a stop directly in front of him. He's much taller than she had realized, but her frustration with him leaves no room for intimidation.

"You're an asshole," she declares sharply, "I paid your bill by the way, you're welcome."

"I didn't ask you to do that," he states indifferently, dropping his smoke to the ground and toeing it out with his boot. He climbs into the driver's seat of the trailer truck without a word and starts it up. Betty is completely beside herself. He's so standoffish and it's driving her mad, but he's going to give her a ride whether he likes it or not. She quickly stomps over to the passenger side and climbs in as the truck idles. He raises a brow in her direction and she'd like to smack that stupid hot smirk right off his face but instead she settles in silently. Without a word he starts driving and before long they're out on the open road.

It's been almost an hour of complete silence and Betty can't take it anymore! She reaches for the radio and turns it on. No sooner than her hand leaves the dial does the man beside her turn it back off. She glares in his direction but she isn't even met with as much as a glance. Assuming defeat, she rests her head on the window and watches as the sky darkens with each passing hour.

Jughead can't believe this preppy little blonde chick just hopped in his truck. He could have been a murderer or a rapist and she'd have been none the wiser. For some strange reason, he'd felt protective of her when he saw how those other men were looking at her. He assumed she would storm out after him like she had when he left his bill behind, and he was glad for his correct assumption. He hadn't banked on her hopping into his truck after he'd shot her down, but here they are. She's absolutely fearless and he is more than intrigued.

Jughead is not much for words and he loathes people and their mindless small talk. It's one of the main reason he became a truck driver in the first place. Long lonely hours with nothing but the silence of an empty cab and the hum of his engine to disturb him. It's unsettling having someone beside him and he has no idea what to say to her. Night falls and Jughead decides to call it quits for the night. He doesn't care to drive in the dark if he doesn't have to and he's ahead of schedule on his delivery, so he pulls into a motel and parks around back with a few other trucks.

"What are we doing here," Betty asks, slightly panicked.

"Relax princess," he laughs, "we're getting separate rooms."

"Oh no we're not," Betty clips and Jughead can't help but smirk at her.

"You trying to get in my pants blondie," he laughs.

"What? No," she argues in disgust, "we're not getting separate rooms because you'll just up and leave me here and you're my best chance at getting home right now."

"That's fair I guess," he shrugs. "What do I get out of this," he jokes as he cuts the engine.

Betty shifts uncomfortably in her seat and he feels bad for intimidating her. He hadn't meant to really, he just tends to come off a bit abrupt.

"Uhm-" she swallows hard, "What do you want," she asks nervously, glancing sideways at him. Jughead draws a complete blank, too entranced by the way she's biting at her lower lip and fiddling with her fingertips. He almost misses it when she begins to unzip her sweatshirt and he immediately reaches out for her hand.

"Don't," he pleads in a hushed tone.

Betty eyes him curiously and his brief tenderness disappears as quickly as it came.

"Zip that back up and don't you ever assume I'm expecting sexual favors," he scolds, "I might be a bit of an asshole, but I'm not that kind of man." He's not angry with her, he's angry that she would even come to that conclusion and he wants to know why, but it's hardly his place to ask.

Betty nods sheepishly and zips her sweatshirt back up before they get out of the truck.

"One room with two beds," Jughead demands at the front desk of the motel. The girl behind the counter is clearly enamored with him and Betty can't help but roll her eyes when she hands him the key and grazes his arm with an incredible lack of subtlety. His eyes drop to her hand on his arm and grabs it in his own before setting it on the counter and giving her a scowl. Betty hold back a laugh and the embarrassed girl shoots her a red faced glare.

"What the hell was that," Betty asks curiously as she follows him away from the front desk.

"I don't like to be touched," he shrugs as they step inside the elevator. Betty files that bit of information away with a curt nod. Standing so closely beside him in the elevator, she dares to brush his fingers with hers. To her surprise, he brushes hers gently before quickly retreating his hands to his pockets without even a glance in her direction. Her interest with this complicated man is even more peaked than before and she decides she has to know him.

Once in their motel room, Betty sits at the edge of her claimed bed and watches as he pulls off his boots. He can feel her stare on his back and once again he's unsettled like he had been in the truck.

"See something you like," he teases before cringing at his own dickish remark.

"Sorry," she apologizes, averting her eyes to the strange pattern of the wallpaper. Jughead sighs heavily before disappears into the bathroom. She listens as the shower starts, then lies back on the bed, allowing the sound of the water to calm her.

Jughead steps into the shower and damn near moans at how amazing the water feels. It's been a few days since he had a hot shower and a comfortable bed to sleep in. More often than not, he skips out on motel stops just to get ahead of schedule so he can enjoy longer breaks between traveling. As he washes up with the tiny soaps he's always found weirdly adorable, he can't help but think of what the blonde in the bedroom was about to do in his truck. If he hadn't stopped her what would she have done? Has she done it before? Did someone threaten her or force her? Just the thought if it makes him sick and he has to know. He rinses quickly before toweling off and slipping on a clean pair of boxers.
Betty hears the water shut off and gets up from the bed to grab some clothes from her backpack. Before she left L.A. she had shipped most of her belongings to her mother's house. What she has now is minimal but it's enough to get through. She pulls out a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top, turning around just as the intriguing man she'd forced into giving her a ride steps out of the steamy bathroom. She had most definitely not expected him to come out in his underwear and by the smirk on his face it's apparent she must be drooling. Quickly shaking her head of some very inappropriate thoughts, she moves out of the way as he walks past her and slumps on his own bed.
After a quick shower, Betty realizes how completely drained she is from all the walking she had done today. She settles into her bed and rolls over to face the offensively sexy man lying on the next bed over. His arms are tucked back behind his head, his long legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle. She can't help but notice how toned his abs are and she finds herself wanting to touch them. She also can't help but notice the protrusion of the front of his boxers in his relaxed position and she finds herself wanting to touch that too.

Get a hold of yourself Betty, this is a stranger!

"What's your name princess," he asks suddenly, his gaze remaining fixed on the tv.

"Betty," she offers. His eyes shift to hers as he seems to contemplate something before returning his gaze back to the tv.

"I'm gonna keep calling you princess," he decides.

"Why's that," she asks curiously.

"It just suits you," he shrugs and Betty asks nothing further of it.

"So are you going to tell me your name," she asks after he falls silent.

"Nope, but you can call me Jughead," he says with a shit eating grin.

"Jughead? Seriously? Why would I call you that," she wonders as if it's completely preposterous.

"Everyone calls me Jughead. Only person who calls me by my name is my mom and she hardly deserves the right," he scoffs.

Betty's interest peaks yet again. So far she knows he's not so good with talking or being nice, but deep down there's a sweet guy in there. He hates to be touched, apparently has something against music, and has mommy issues.

"Ok Jughead," she rolls her eyes, "Where are you headed, because I'm trying to get back to Riverdale, NY. If you can get me anywhere close I'd be completely indebted to you."
Jughead sits up and squares his shoulders to her. "Riverdale? You're from Riverdale," he asks sounding almost concerned. He drops his head in his hands, elbows propped on his knees as he lets out a huffed sigh. "I can't take you to Riverdale," he admits regretfully.

"Oh. Ok, well, could you get me close to New York," she asks sweetly. She wants to know why he seems so put off about Riverdale but she's not sure she should ask.

"I can, but its gonna take a few days. I have some stops to make along the way," he tells her as he lies back down on the bed. Betty nods as he clicks off the TV and turns out the light. They lay in silence, both trying to fall asleep as the wrestle with questions they're too nervous to ask.

"Hey princess, you awake," Jughead whispers at the ceiling.

"Yea," she replies into the darkness.

"What were you going to do in my truck, when you thought I wanted something," he questions, the darkness surrounding them giving him confidence to ask something so personal.

"I don't know. Whatever you wanted I guess," she admits guiltily.

"Why," he asks almost angrily.

"I don't know," she lies under her breath. The creak of Jughead's bed breaks through the quiet of the night and a weight settles beside her as the lamp between their beds clicks on. Jughead is now sitting at the edge of her bed. She eyes him curiously before sitting up and curling her knees into her chest to rest her chin between them.

"Has that happened before," he asks with a surprising tenderness to his voice. He doesn't look at her as he waits anxiously for her reply.

"Once," she admits quietly and she feels like a cheap whore saying it out loud. Dancing for money is one thing, but being trapped in a man's car and finding out the hard way that they aren't a good person is another thing entirely. Jughead turns to face her and she's startled by the clear rage in his eyes.

"I'm taking you to Riverdale," he grits, "That is never going to happen again if I have anything to say about it."

Betty is completely overwhelmed with gratitude and without thinking she lunges forward and wraps her arms around him. He stiffens entirely, but rests a careful hand high up on her back and gives her a couple of awkward pats.

"I'm sorry," she apologizes, quickly pulling away from him, "I forgot you don't like to be touched, I just... Thank you," she says softly as she moves back to her own space. Jughead nods and she feels bad for making him uncomfortable. He moves back to his own bed without a word.

"Jughead," she calls as he reaches for the light.

"Yea princess," he asks, dropping his hand from the lamp and propping himself up on his elbow to face her.

"Why did you say you couldn't go to Riverdale before?"

"Conversation for another day baby girl." He offers a sad smile and turns out the light. Betty accepts defeat and before long drifts off into a heavy sleep.