Author's Note : This is kind of a filler chapter but stick with me! The good stuff is coming up. This is NOT as slow a burn as it seems to be! Things are about to heat up!
Disclaimer : Don't own em. Like em a lot.
Chapter Five Song Choice : "Pretty Girl" by Sugarcult
Chapter Five :
"Do you think I'm a tease?"
"What?" Veronica exclaimed at Betty's question, glancing up from her foot massage.
Salonge was the only nail salon in Riverdale, but as it was owned by Hiram Lodge, Veronica's father, it was nothing but the best and there as the added perk that Veronica, Betty and Cheryl never paid. Just tipped. The walls and floors were a soothing taupe and white color; the lights where dim and amber and classical music pumped at muted decimals through discreetly hidden speakers in the ceiling. The middle of the spa held several fingernail stations with an array of colored bottles, tools, foam and cotton balls; all presented in aesthetically pleasing shelves and glass jars. There was a row of five cushy leather massage chairs with the blue sudsy water that circulated a lovely floral fragrance. The overall affect was relaxing.
"Do we think you're a tease?" Cheryl repeated from Betty's other side.
The girls were lounged back in the plush luxury chairs, ankle deep in the warm bubbling water as they enjoyed being pampered a little bit.
"You know," Betty said, "do I lead guys on?"
"What the hell did Archie say now?" Cheryl demanded.
"No," Betty said with a quick shake of her head in attempt to calm the tempest that was Cheryl Blossom, "no, no, it wasn't Archie."
The sight of the identical expressions of confusion that crossed both Cheryl's and Veronica's faces almost made Betty laugh. They could have been mirror images, each lifting a perfectly groomed eyebrow in question. It was borderline comical.
"Then…who?" Veronica asked.
"That part…" Betty hedged, "that part isn't important."
"B!" Veronica said at the same time Cheryl demanded, "Spill!"
Betty let her head fall back against the soft headrest of the chair back, closed her eyes and tried to focus on the feel of the nail technician digging a strong thumb into the pressure point along the arch of her foot. After she had taken a deep, steadying breath, she opened her eyes and began to tell her friends about her encounter with the beautiful and dangerous Serpent Prince. She told them everything; from the moment his lean, muscled arms rescued her from face-planting when she slipped in Kevin's spilled soda to the moment he had stormed out of Pop's without touching his milkshake. Though, she decided, stormed was strong word. He had exited with aggression.
"Okay," Veronica said slowly. Betty recognized V's thoughtful expression. She would sit for a moment, process all the information and consider her next words with care. "Were you…trying to lead him on?"
"No!" Betty replied, perhaps a bit too quickly, "I mean, maybe? I don't know. He is so gorgeous and I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy the attention. I was flattered…and he was charming and…I flirted. But then he asked me out and I just…I didn't know what to do."
Veronica and Cheryl shared a mirrored look of smirks and raised eyebrows.
"Did you-want -to say yes?" Veronica asked.
Betty groaned in answer.
"Ooh," Cheryl grinned, "who would have pictured it? Our sweet Betty has a taste for bad boys."
"Cher!" Betty exclaimed, "I don't! I'm not doing this. I'm with Archie."
"Then why are you so upset about what some other guys thinks?" Cheryl countered in a tone that implied this to be the most logical question in the world.
And it was.
It was a completely legitimate question. If Betty was completely in love and committed to Archie, why was she so upset with the idea that Jughead was done with her?
Because she was friendly person and the idea that she had hurt someone didn't sit well with her. That's all it was.
"I just don't like the idea that maybe there is a vibe I'm putting out there. I don't want to lead anybody on and or have guys think of me as a, you know, tease."
"Nobody thinks of you that way, cousin." Cheryl said.
"It's true," Veronica added with a gently pat to Betty's hand, "you're too sweet. You just damaged Jughead's fragile male ego so he lashed with the universal chauvinistic response of attacking you sexuality because you have a vagina."
Betty pressed her lips together as both eyebrows jumped upward and she nodded, "Wow."
Jughead sauntered through the Whyte Wyrm, beer bottle dangling from his fingertips and an unlit cigarette in the corner of his lips. He joined Sweet Pea at the billiards table where his friend was lining up a shot. Sweet Pea sank the five-ball then straightened and held out his hand to Jug. Without a word, Jug pulled his pack of Marlboro Reds from his jacket pocket and flipped it open for Sweet Pea to take one. He lit Pea's first, then his own and enjoyed a nice long pull of nicotine into his lungs.
"So," Sweet Pea started on a stream of smoke from his own cig, "how'd it go with Blondie?"
"Work in progress."
Sweet Pea chuckled, "Oh, yeah? Was the mighty Serpent Prince rejected?"
Jughead shot him a look, "Just a bump in the road. She's…"
Sweet Pea watched as Jughead's gaze dropped and an expressions crossed his face that was almost…wistful.
"She's different than I expected." He said finally.
"How so?"
"She's, I don't know, funny. Nice. She has a…laugh."
"She has a laugh?" Sweet Pea cackled on a burst of smoke, "Jesus, Jug, doesn't everybody have a laugh?"
"Shut up, jackass," Jughead retorted and looked away.
It was about that moment that Evelyn appeared and sidled up to the pair. She leaned into Jughead and traced a hand up his bicep to the side of his neck. "Hey there, Jug," she cooed, "I've been thinking about you."
"Always flattering, Ev, but take it somewhere else, okay."
"What?" she hissed.
"I'm not interested." Jughead said with a shrug and took another drag of his cigarette.
Evelyn shoved both hands against his chest and on instinct, Sweet Pea straightened as though preparing to haul her away. Jughead was more than capable of handling her, but nobody fucked with the prince.
"Who the fuck do you think you are?" Evelyn demanded.
Jughead leaned forward, his vibrant green eyes boring directly into hers, "I'm the fuck you're not gonna get. Move on."
Evelyn moved to slap him across the face, but Jughead caught her by the wrist and flung it back down to her side.
"Hey," Pea snapped, "he said move on, Evelyn. Beat it."
"You guys are assholes, you know that?" she spat before she spun on her heel and stomped off across the bar to lick her wounds.
"Are we assholes?" Sweet Pea asked.
Jug looked at him, "Most likely."
"Huh. Are we good with that?"
"I mean, I'm okay with it."
"Awesome. I was worried for a minute there."
Jughead laughed, took a swig from his beer and slapped Sweet Pea on the shoulder, careful not to burn him with the cigarette he still clutched between his fingers.
"Kinda glad you decided not to hit that," Pea continued, "Evelyn's hot but…she's…she creeps me out, man."
"She does have a scent of crazy about her."
"Besides, I get the feeling you need your strength for Blondie."
Jughead grinned. He did need his strength for Betty. He wanted to give her his A-game. Something about her, the sweetness that exuded from her smile and voice, it made him want to be a good guy for her. He didn't want to be tainted from the likes of Evelyn Evernever when Betty deserved not only his full attention…but he had decided she deserved his faithfulness as well. Yes, she was dating that sonofbitch, Archie Andrews. Yes, he and she weren't together…yet. And when they did get together, he would make her see that he could be a dedicated lover. The was another conclusion he had come to after their encounter. He wasn't interested in a wham-bam with her. He wanted to be her lover.
He turned to Sweet Pea, "You feel like a cheeseburger?"
It had been three days, nineteen hours and seventeen minutes since Jughead had left her at Pop's. Not that Betty had been counting or anything. Because she hadn't been. Nope. Not at all. Not her.
So, on Tuesday night during Betty's shift, when the bell above the door chimed and three dark haired boys clad in Serpents jackets came rough-housing through the door, she didn't immediately their faces and the immediate surrounding area for that familiar gray beanie. And she didn't feel an almost overwhelming sense of disappointment when she discovered that he wasn't there with his friends.
And it was only a strong work ethic that had been instilled in her by Alice and Hal Cooper that led her to more or less hip-check the older server, Dorthea, out of the way so that she herself could be the one to wait on the group when they took the large corner booth in the back of the diner.
Betty gave a quick, "I got this one, Dorthea!" over her shoulder along the way.
The young men were boisterous and loud, swatting and laughing and punching at each other as Betty approached.
"Hey there, guys!" Betty greeted, her eyes lighting on the one familiar face, "Hi, Joaquin!"
Having the connection to him through Kevin, no matter how tenuous, might just increase her chances of getting even a little bit of intel on Jughead.
"Hey, Betty," Joaquin replied, a sweet little smirk on his lips. He sat nearest the window with a tan skinned, chisel jawed young man with slicked back hair beside him. Across from them was another rather intimidating looking dark haired, dark eyed young man with a snake tattooed on his neck. Joaquin had an intensity to him, but there was also something soft in his features. The two with him did not have the same softness. Betty swallowed against the lump that had formed in her throat and directed the uncomfortable question she wanted to ask toward Joaquin.
"Are, uh…are you…is it, uh, is it just the three of you tonight?" she stuttered, "Or are you…are you waiting on anyone else?"
Joaquin maintained eye contact with her but looked as though he was biting back a smile. The other two with him shared some kind of look with each other across the table that Betty didn't understand… and didn't think she wanted to. However, it was in the midst of that look that she heard his deep, gravelly voice from behind her.
"What? You guys already order without me or something?"
His voice, his tone, it rolled over Betty's skin like a wave; leaving goosebumps in its wake.
"Hell no, Jones," neck tattoo exclaimed, "we know better. We get our food before you get yours and you start eating ours."
Betty took a steadying breath and glanced over her shoulder. Jughead barely spared her a glance as he slipped past her and into the booth. Betty struggled for a few pounding heartbeats to recollect herself.
"Um, can I get your drinks?" she asked in a much more subdued pitch than usual.
"I'll take a Sprite. Thanks, Betty." Joaquin said.
"Chocolate shake," Tan boy added.
Neck tattoo ordered, "Rootbeer float."
Jughead was the last to order. "I'll take a-"
Betty couldn't stop herself, "Strawberry shake?"
Jughead finally looked up at him.
When Jughead made eye contact with Betty, the question and hope in those big green eyes hit him in the gut like a sucker punch. But he wasn't ready to let her off the hook at just that moment.
"I think I'm more in the mood for a double chocolate today, thanks."
He felt the slightest twinge of guilt when he smile faltered and her shoulders sagged. But she wrote down the order, forced the brightness back into her grin and spun around to take their drink orders back to the counter.
"Damn, Jonesy," Fangs breathed.
"That was cold," Sweet Pea added with a grin.
Joaquin raised a brow, "Don't be mean to the kid."
"Hey," Jug countered, "I'm in a forgiving mood today." He threw a glance over his shoulder, "I just wanna make her sweat a little."
"I wouldn't mind making her sweat," Sweet Pea said, also looking over his shoulder to where Betty was lifting a drink laden trey from the front counter.
"Hey!" Jug snapped in a quiet but deadly tone, "You watch your mouth or I'll cut out your fuckin' tongue."
"Easy, friend," Pea said, "Just an observation."
Jug growled but bit it back when Betty appeared with their drinks. "Okay," she chirped, "do you guys know what you want to eat?"
Betty probably checked on Jughead's table more than usual and more than any of the other tables she had been serving at the same time, but she couldn't seem to help herself. She wanted to be near Jughead. She wanted to gauge his mood, his thoughts, his reaction to her. She wanted to identify forgiveness in his eyes.
But he hadn't paid her any excess attention. He'd been polite. He'd thanked her for his food and when she'd brought and refilled a glass of water for him when he'd finished his shake. But no matter how many times she'd let her hand linger just so in front of him with the hopes he'd touch her in some way, he hadn't.
When they'd finished their food, they paid their checks in cash and Betty felt as though she had been officially dismissed.
And it stung.
She went back behind the counter and start cleaning the soda machine in attempt to fight off her darkening mood. She heard the chime of the bell and knew that her Serpent customers had left the building. She slapped her damp rag against the counter.
I will not cry. Betty Cooper, dammit, you will not cry. She repeated the thought in her mind repeatedly.
"Betty Cooper," that fantastic deep voice rolled from behind her, "you make it very hard to stay made at you."
She spun around and bit her lips together against a smile. Jughead sat on a stool at the counter, his arms braced against the top as he leaned his body across it toward her. There was a smirk on his mouth.
God, she's pretty, he thought. He kept telling himself that he was building her up in his head, but then he'd see her and she was even better than he remembered. Every time she hit him with that green gaze, he wanted to wrap his hands around her and carry her off somewhere that he could keep her and have her all to himself. He didn't want to share her with anybody. Not his friends, not her friends, nobody.
Betty let out a deep breath, "I don't want you to be mad at me."
His smirk morphed into a full-fledged grin. He tilted his head to the side in a way that made him look boyish and endearing, "So, here's the thing. There's a chance, just a chance, that I may have over-reacted."
She slinked forward to him, "Yeah?"
Mine, he thought.
He said, "Just a chance."
"I probably should have mentioned-"
"Nah," he said, "you're fucking beautiful, Betty. I shouldn't have assumed you were available."
He was careful there. He didn't say single. Single and available were not always the same thing. They could mutually exclusive.
"I enjoyed talking to you the other night," Betty admitted, "and I'll be honest, I enjoyed your flirting with me."
"So, what do you want from me, Betty?"
"I wanna be your friend," Betty was emphatic, "I wanna talk to you, get to know you. Is that…possible?"
Jughead sank his teeth into his bottom, then released it and touched the corner of his mouth with the tip of his tongue. The action drew Betty's gaze to the temptation that was his mouth…and he knew it.
"Friends, huh?"
Betty nodded, "Friends."
"Okay," he nodded, "Alright, Princess."
Betty let out a groan, and leaned her own elbows onto the counter, closing the distance between them, "Do you have to call me that?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Jughead grinned, "Because-you're all pretty and pink and have this whole ivory tower thing working for you. Every prince wants a princess, right? Makes me wanna slay the dragon and take you out into the world. You know, get you a little dirty. Muss you up a little bit."
"Is that so?"
"Yup."
"I can get mussed." Betty defended.
"Oh, yeah?" Jughead asked on a single raised eyebrow.
"And I slay my own dragons, thank you."
"Oh, I see. Badass Betty?"
"You'd better believe it!"
"Oh, I do."
"Good," She chimed. Then she slid her hand across the counter, the tips of her fingers brushing against the tips of his. She was unapologetic at the contact. Rather she was blatant about it. She let her fingers slide between his, threading them together, caressing, playing, toying with them. "So, what do you say, Juggie? You wanna be my friend?"
Author's Note : Like I said, stick with me! We have re-established the connection with Jug and Betty and he is done being a jerk. Like I said, about to heat up.