Author's Note : This chapter was difficult for me…mainly because I am ready to get to the next chapter. LOL. So, I basically no longer have an upload schedule, for which I apologize. Between work and life and being part of a theatre production, time is sparse. But…I do promise to update as often as I can! Please let me know what you think! I crave your thoughts and feedback!
Disclaimer : Don't own em. Like em a lot.
Chapter Six Song Choice : "Trouble" by P!nk
Chapter Six :
Friendship with the Serpent Prince Jughead Jones was different than any other that Betty had ever experienced. She had had male friends in the past; but things with Jughead felt different. Perhaps it was because her other guys friends had always been mutual friends with Archie…or Kevin. But they had never really done the things that Jughead did with regularity.
First and foremost, he spoke to her like she had a brain. That was unfair to Kevin. He spoke to her as though she had a brain, but their conversations usually revolved around school assignments, college and boys. And fashion advice. He loved to help her decide what to wear. He was irreplaceable.
But her other male "friends," when they spoke to her at all, it was about Archie or cheerleading or sports or…asking if they could borrow her notes from some class. Occasionally they like to tell her how hot she was or tell her how Archie was lucky to have such a "perfect girl."
And they never shied to ask her to grab them another beer at a party.
Jughead spoke to her about literature. Not school sanctioned reading assignments, but about what she read for pleasure. He could hold an intelligent conversation about Kafka, Dostoyevsky and admitted to being thrilled when she confided that despite having told Veronica and Cheryl that she had sobbed at it's conclusion, she had never actually read Nicholas Sparks' The Notebook.
"Not that there's anything wrong with that particular author or genre," she said to him, "I just couldn't get through it."
Jughead threw his head back in laughter. With a grin, Betty had put her hand on his forearm, "I did see the movie though."
"Well, as long as you saw the movie, we have to let you keep your girly girl card."
"Does it still count if V forced me into it?"
"Absolutely."
"Oh, good."
She admitted to preferring Capote and Morrison to Sparks or Roberts.
They discussed poets. He knew who Andrew Marvell was! He could quote from The Garden. They debated the merits of Robert Frost; Betty maintained that he was not only overrated, but a complete bore. Jughead found him calming. Betty explained that that could be another word for boring.
They both agreed that Anne Sexton, while talented and relevant, was a little dark and really disturbing. It was invigorating to Betty to get the male perspective on some of her favorite authors from someone who seemed just a passionate about literary genius as she was.
And then, there was the touching.
When she hung out with Jughead, usually late at night when he would hang around the diner and wait for her shift to end, he would always find little ways to touch her be it a tug at her ponytail, a nudge of her shoulder or a quick tickling poke to her sides. One night, she had clocked out and joined him, Fangs and Sweet Pea at the booth they had been occupying for the better part of an hour. She had slid in next to him and without breaking his conversation, he had draped an arm across the back of the booth behind her shoulders and let his hand dangle forward, his fingertips had traced a lazy back and forth along her skin where her should and neck met. It had seemed a thoughtless touch. Something he had done without conscious acknowledgement; but that languid pattern along the tender flesh of her neck had damn near set her insides on fire.
It was a feeling she had never experienced before…with anyone. And it was starting to confuse her.
If she were going to have these kinds of feelings, shouldn't she have had them with Archie…her boyfriend. She hadn't spoken to Cheryl or Veronica about Jughead again since the nail salon so she had no one to bounce these crazy feelings and emotions off of; no one to turn to for advice. Not that either of them would ever judge her for it. Hell, Cheryl would throw a tickertape parade. But she liked that Jughead was separate from her other friends. It made it feel private, personal, like he belonged to her. She liked that thought…probably a little more than she should.
She understood enough to know that her feelings were wrong. Her mind was so tangled and messed up with her physical reactions to Jug that she knew she had to take action. She had to do something to make it right; to set world back upright on its axis again.
It was her night off. She left her house, crossed the yard and joined her boyfriend at his house for a movie night in his living room while his father was across town for a dinner meeting.
Archie popped the latest cheesy Halloween flick into the DVD player before he joined Betty on the couch and pulled her into his embrace. She knew his track record and she knew that in about ten minutes, he would initiate a make-out session until he tried to push too far and she would call a halt to it. It was as predictable as the sunrise.
Sure enough, the hand of the arm draped over her shoulders started to swirl little patterns on her upper arm. The touch, while not exact, called to mind the way Jughead had touched her just two nights before in the booth at Pop's. Betty tried to feel the fire in her stomach for Archie that she had felt then. She turned her head in invitation. Archie pounced.
He pushed his mouth against hers with hunger, thrusting his tongue into her depths. Kissing Archie was always…nice. Comfortable. He slid a hand to the nape of her neck and deepened the intimacy. His other hand slid to her ribcage, the tip of his thumb brushed against the rounded underside of her breast.
Betty wanted so desperately to feel the spark that she had felt two nights ago…but there was frustratingly nothing. She took matters into her own hands and pushed Archie back against the couch. She ignored the surprise on his face and climbed into his lap, her thighs straddling his.
"Damn, Betty!" Archie said, his voice shaky in excitement.
She had never done something like that before. She pressed forward and took control if the kiss, but her frustration only grew because she didn't know what she was doing. Archie's hands gripped her hips and pushed her core down on his hardening erection. She rolled her pelvis against him, frantic, anxious, determined to feel something. Archie groaned into her mouth as he slid one hand around to squeeze the round globe of her ass.
She should be out of her mind with arousal right now! But all at once her skin felt too tight and all wrong. She knew that when she opened her eyes, she be met with kind, caramel colored eyes…not fierce green ones. The hair her fingers were tangled in was the color of copper, not midnight black. And she knew that was the way that it should be…but it felt off. So off. So…not right. Archie's touches as he groped at her rear and skimmed his other hand to caress her breast didn't elicit heat or electricity, but discomfort, like she was suddenly ticklish in those areas. Her instinct was to sink into herself to disengage his fondling. She broke away from his kiss to battle back the sting of tears that she felt.
Archie didn't notice her distress, turned his attentions to her throat, kissing and sucking at the soft skin there. Without warning, with his breath coming out in heavy pants, he pulled her back from his self, shoved her sweater up with one hand and yanked the cup of her bra down with the other. When he leaned forward, his eyes trained on her nipple, Betty panicked.
"Archie!" she exclaimed as she clambered off of his lap and around the coffee table, putting space and furniture between them. Her sweater dropped back down over her torso and she crossed her arms protectively over her chest as she refused to meet his gaze. Her bra was still uncomfortably askew, but she couldn't bring herself to right it in front of him. He stood from the couch and moved as though he might reach for her and she skittered backward, her knees bumping into side of the leather Lazyboy recliner. "I'm so sorry!" she breathed.
"Don't be sorry," Archie said with a shake of his head. His cheeks were flushed red like he was over heated, his pupils were dilated with lust and his hands were trembling. His fingers itched. He wanted to reach out and grab her, drag her body against his own for the alleviating friction it would cause. He wanted to pin her to couch beneath him invade that sweet, perfect body until she cried out his name.
But he couldn't tell her those things. She looked ready to bolt as it was.
"Betty, that was…amazing."
His words stung. Because it hadn't been amazing. It had been uncomfortable and awkward and she didn't want to ever do it again.
"I feel like it was a step forward, you know," he continued, "to where we want to be."
Everything inside of Betty revolted at the idea. But when she looked up and saw undisguised hope in his eyes, she couldn't bring herself to admit that to him. She just nodded and tightened her arms around herself.
"Yeah," she lied, "but it was a lot for me."
"I know that." He said.
"And…and I think I need to go home now, okay?"
"Of course," Archie said as he closed the distance between them and rubbed his hands over her upper arms in what he believed to be a comforting gesture, "Of course. I know…this…the physical stuff is new and difficult for you. I blame your mom."
It was said with a grin, but Betty wondered if he didn't really believe that. It wasn't so farfetched really. Her mother was a frightening individual who was critical, demanding and overbearing. She loved her children with the terrifying fierceness of a mama bear and Betty could see how someone on the outside could confuse that for repression.
The truth was, Alice had always been very open with her children when it came to sex. She never wanted them to be afraid to come to her with questions or concerns in that regard; opting instead to teach them about safety, precaution and how what they did with their bodies was always their choice and not to let anyone, including herself, make it for them.
But it was easier in that moment to let Archie believe that her difficulties with physical intimacy spurned from her parents than from a lack of desire.
A well worn bright pink book slapped down on the counter in front of her as Betty was setting up for a Tuesday evening shift at Pop's. She looked up from counting her drawer to see Jughead's familiar and cocky grin. With a smirk back at him, she picked up the book and read the title aloud.
"100 Love Sonnets. Pablo Neruda. Love sonnets, huh?" She looked back at him, "I didn't think you were the type."
"Have you read Neruda before?" he asked as he leaned forward across the counter in a pose that was steadily becoming as familiar to her as his voice.
"I have not." She admitted.
"He's good. It's…a different kind of love poem. This edition has both the original Spanish and the English translations."
She flipped the book over to read the back, "Oh, yeah?"
"There's one that makes me think of you."
Her heartbeat increased exponentially at the words.
"Actually, there are several that make me think of you but one in particular."
Jughead felt his stomach twist a little as that green gaze slid up away from the book to lock onto his own. Her expression was an open question. God, he wanted to touch her. Instead, he smiled and quoted.
"Tengo hambre de tu boca, de tu voz, de tu pelo
y por las calles voy sin nutrirme, callado,
Quiero comer el rayo quemado en tu hermosura."
Betty couldn't breathe. She had no idea what he had said, but the way he had said it, the tone of his voice and the way his eyes had traced her face, her lips, her body as his tongue had rolled those words out like seduction covered in honey had caused some kind of chemical short circuit in her brain. She couldn't move. She couldn't speak. And the only thing she could think was how she wanted to wrap herself around him and beg him to make the aching go away.
With a determination bred into her by her mother, Betty composed herself and forced a smirk onto her face. "You gonna tell me what that means?"
"Nope." He said, dimples in full force.
"Cruel," She grinned.
"What can I say, Betty Cooper," he said, his voice low and breathy, "I'm a bad man."
Was that her ovaries that just squeezed together creating a pleasant increase in blood flow to all of her lady parts? Yup, that's what that was.
"Okay," she drew the word out and bit down on her lower lip. She watched his green eyed gaze focus there, his irises darkening, "are you gonna at least tell me which poem it's from?"
His eyelids narrowed and his pouty lips pursed as he considered her, then he nodded as though he had made a decision, "I'll tell you it's between poems five and fifteen, but that's all your getting from me."
"Well, that narrows it down, at least." Betty said as she thumbed the pages of the book.
The bell above the door chimed as a group of "bros" decked in blue and gold letterman jackets came pouring in. Jughead glanced over his shoulder at them then back to Betty. He wasn't ready for her to know about his altercation with the Bulldogs. It was too soon. It would pull her away from him and he…couldn't allow that. He wanted her near; as near as he could get her. He slapped the counter with an open palm and stood from the counter.
"Alright, princess," he smirked, "I think I've kept you to myself for long enough."
No, you haven't! It was the only though that went through Betty's mind. She didn't want him to go. Maybe ever…but in less than a blink, he had ducked out the door and she heard the telltale sound of his motorcycle firing up outside.
That night, when Betty got home after her shift, she gave only the barest of greetings to her parents before tearing up the stairs to her bedroom. In fact, she had really bordered on rude to them, but she couldn't bring herself to particularly care in that moment. She needed to figure out what poem Jughead had recited to her in the raspy, ridiculously sexy tone at the diner. Was it the Spanish that made it hot?
Nope. Just him. He could mutter to her in Pig-Latin and she was pretty sure her reaction would have been similar.
She started with poem number five, trying her best to recall the was the foreign words had sounded rolling off of his tongue, sounding them out in her own head to try to recognize them on the page.
She finally thought she had found them in poem number eleven…and dear Lord in heaven. If that was the poem that had made Jug think of her…they were decidedly not friendly thoughts.
"Oh…" she muttered to herself reading the English translation of the poem and tugging at the collar of the uniform she had not yet changed out of. Her cheeks flushed, her neck felt hot and she was having difficulty breathing. She could not recall any other time in her life when she had had feelings this…tense? Intense? Tingling?
Sexual?
She slammed the book of poetry closed and covered her face with both hands, her eyes darting to the window where she could see into Archie's bedroom. The lights were dark. He was either asleep or not in the room. Once again, guilt engulfed her.
Why had she never, not once in all of their years together, in all her years of knowing him, had she had these kind extreme, consuming, breathtaking feelings, urges about Archie? About her boyfriend?
Friday night found Betty sitting the backseat of Chuck Clayton's convertible at the Twilight Drive-In with Archie at her side, Chuck in the driver's seat and Veronica up front in the passenger seat. It was freezing out, but the boys had insisted on putting the top down. They had each respectively claimed that they would "make sure you ladies stay warm." Archie kept peppering little kisses just behind her ear, his hand kept sliding up and down the inside of her jeans clad thigh. In front of her, she could see Veronica skillfully dodge an advance from Chuck even as she laughed and flirted. She was a master at stroking a guy's ego even as she rejected him.
Betty ducked away from Archie's lips and turned to look at him, one hand pressed against his chest to keep him at bay.
"Hey, Arch," she said, "I think we need popcorn, don't we?"
"Yes!" Veronica's voice bellowed from the front seat, "and soda. Cherry. Please."
Archie chuckled and slapped both hands on Chuck's shoulders. "Let's go, man. The girls need sustenance."
With that, their respective dates vacated the vehicle and headed for the snack bar. As soon as they were out of ear shot, Veronica spun in her seat.
"Tell me again why we're here?" she asked.
Betty laughed, "You lost your mind and agreed to a date with Chuck which I refused to let you do without backup."
"Oh, yeah," Veronica said, "I plead temporary insanity."
"Not exactly a stimulating conversationalist, our Chuck."
"If he tries to cop a feel one more time…"
"I didn't bring bail money, but I can always call Cher."
"Excellent!" Veronica beamed, "I love it when a plan comes together."
At that moment, the car gave a violent jostle as a body leapt the side and landed in the seat beside Betty. Her gaze darted over to where Jughead grinned at her from Archie's seat, his arm was stretched out across the back of the car behind her shoulders.
"Jug!" Betty exclaimed.
"Jug?" Veronica questioned from the front seat, her dark eyes trailing the length of Jughead's body, measuring, weighing, drawing conclusion, "Well, well."
"Hey there, princess," Jughead said and gave a tug at a loose lock of Betty's hair, then addressed her friend, "What's up, Fifth Avenue?"
"Excuse you, I am Park Avenue."
"My mistake."
"Don't make it again." Veronica chided, but Betty could see the underlying grin on her lips.
"My apologies," he grinned, then faced Betty, "You look like a girl in desperate need of some Twizzlers."
He offered her a large package of the sweet red candy. Betty smiled unreservedly at him, "I do, do I?"
"Obviously!" he nodded, "No cinematic experience is complete without Twizzlers. I'm a little disappointed in you, princess. You should know these things."
His fingertips, which had been trailing lightly up and down her neck, reached up to give her earlobe a gentle tug. Betty shift closer to his body, his warmth, "You're absolutely correct. I'm so sorry. I don't know what I was thinking."
He brought the package of candy up to open it without moving his other arm from around Betty so she was basically caged in his arms. As he crooked his elbow to bring his hands together, the motion drew her nearer. Near enough that her nose bumped against his jaw. Even as she fought against the urge to nuzzle him there, she didn't draw away. That was the closest they had ever been physically. She could feel the heat that radiated from his skin. She wanted to wrap herself up in that warmth; bask in it; drown in it. And damn, he smelled good. Like fresh cut grass and campfire smoke with something underneath; some essence that was all male and all Jughead. As the plastic ripped between his fingers, Jughead looked into her eyes, "I'll forgive the oversight this time."
"I appreciate that."
He drew a long, slender Twizzler from the package and offered it to her. On instinct and without breaking eye contact, Betty bit the end off of the candy as he held it out to her. Jughead's pupils blew wide and he brought the same end she had bitten to his own mouth to take a bite.
"You know," he said as he chewed and his eyes darted back and forth between her eyes and her lips, "I think strawberry is my new number one flavor."
"Oh, my," Veronica breathed from the front seat and Betty's head snapped forward to face her friend…whose presence she had completely forgotten.
Betty's head snapped forward to face the front of the car. "V!" her friend's name came out as little more than a puff of air pushed from her lungs.
"Forgot I was here, didn't you?" Veronica said with an arch of one dark, elegant brown.
"What? No!" Betty stammered.
"Uh-huh. Sure."
"As enjoyable as this has been," Jughead interrupted, "and it has been, I think it's time I make my exit."
He handed Betty the bag of Twizzlers before he propelled himself over the side of the car and turned back to them, "You ladies have a lovely night. Nice to meet you, Park Avenue."
"Highness," Veronica countered.
Jughead smirked at her before he turned his gaze to lock onto Betty, "I like this one. I'll see you later, princess."
With that, he sauntered away. Both Betty and Veronica craned their necks to watch him cross the drive-in parking lot to where a dozen motorcycles were parked along the back chain-linked fence. When he had reached a sufficient distance, Veronic sank back down into her seat and stared at her dearest friend.
"What was that?" she asked.
"That was Jughead." Betty answered.
"He's pretty."
"I know."
"I mean, my God, he's attractive."
"I know!"
"You, my sweet B, are in soooo much trouble."
"I know."
It was about that moment, when Jughead vacated the car maybe two minutes before, that Chuck and Archie reappeared with their arms laden with popcorn and sodas. When Archie began to offer the bag of popcorn to Betty, the popcorn she had sent him to purchase, he paused because his eyes landed on the open package of Twizzlers in her lap; the package she had not had when he had left the vehicle a few minutes earlier.
"Where'd those come from?" he asked.
Betty froze. Her mind blanked. She had no idea what to say or how to answer him. The only sentences that kept running through her brain was Jughead brought them to me. Jughead brought them to me. Jughead put his arm around me. Instinct had her eyes darting to Veronica.
"Kevin!" Veronica answered, her expression completely calm, the tremble in her voice undoubtedly only noticeable to Betty because of their years of closeness. "Yeah, Kev came by. He and that pretty eyed serpent he's been seeing are sneaking off to the woods so he—gave B and me his candy. Said he didn't need the calories, that ridiculous drama queen."
It was absolutely something that Kevin would do.
"Awesome," Archie responded without question before he bounded over the side of the car and plopped back into the seat at Betty's side.
She couldn't help but compare the movement. Archie had cleared the side of the car with ease; he was an all-star athlete. He landed with a thump like a gorilla. Jughead too had easily leapt into the car, but his landed had been smooth and graceful…like a cat. A predatory cat.
As though intending to break into her train of thought about the other boy, Archie reached over and plucked a red piece of candy from her lap and Betty had to fight back the kneejerk reaction to snatch it from his fingers and smack him upside the head with it. That candy had not been intended for him!
Her anger was irrational and she beat it back into submission, but she couldn't help but feel tense for the remainder of the movie. Of course, Veronica was the only one to pick up on this as she kept peering over her shoulder to check on her. Chuck was oblivious and had eyes only for Veronica, or more accurately her thighs, which he kept trying to grab despite her irritation thinly veiled behind giggles and not-so-playful slaps.
Archie was…well, Archie. He pulled her close to him and kept pressing kisses to her jawline and throat. Every now and then he reach the corner of her mouth and try to get her to turn to him, but she would twist away and point toward the screen as though she really wanted to know how "Nightmare on Elm Street" ended.
When the credits to the movie rolled, Jughead watched from within the throng of his brothers as the dark blue convertible pulled through the parking lot toward the exit. In the backseat sat Betty, wrapped in the arms of her douchebag boyfriend. The sight caused an unfamiliar and unwelcome sensation to roll in the pit of Jughead's gut. It wasn't a feeling he could ever remember having felt before and he certainly did not care for it.
The unpleasantness temporarily abated though when bright green eyes locked on his, immediately to be followed by a brilliant white smile. She didn't look away. In fact, if he were a betting kind of man, he'd say his sweet little Northside princess had sought him out. She kept her gaze on him until the jock driver of the car turned the corner and he could no longer see her.
God, was there a more gorgeous creature on the planet than Betty Cooper. If there was, he sure as hell hadn't encountered her.
"Jug!" Sweet Pea called over the strangely comforting roar of motorcycle engines grumbling to life across the rows of bikers, "Let's roll, Boss!"
Jughead gave him a nod, but then turned to stare for just a moment more into the direction that his girl had disappeared into.
'Wait' he thought, almost at once. His girl? Since when did he start thinking in terms of anyone being his girl? He thought on that shiny hair, the big eyes and all that soft, soft skin and then chuckled to himself.
'My girl,' he thought, 'It has a nice ring to it.'
AN:
The poem Jughead recited is from "100 Love Poems" by Pablo Neruda. It is an excerpt from XI. The English translation is :
I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets,
I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body
Author's Note : Okay, so, Betty and Jug are getting closer… hehehehe. What do you think? Should he kiss her already and show her what she has been missing with Archie?
Leave a comment! Let me know!