Sucker Love is known to swing
Prone to cling and waste these things
Pucker up for heaven's sake
There's never been so much at stake.
- Placebo.

"I know this doesn't make up for what I did, Betty." Archie began, fingering a fry on the bright red table. His eyes bore deep into the fried potato, as if he were studying it's very being. "I just want you to know I'm sorry. What I did was wrong, obviously embarrassing for you- I just got mad. I hate him."

Betty's head buzzed unevenly with joy, lust, excitement and confusion. As much as she wanted to investigate further as to why Archie had all that pent up hate for Jughead, she had to address their friendship. And while she was so angry- so very angry- she couldn't just wipe him away. By looking into his eyes, she felt as if he were a dog that had been kicked angrily. "…It's okay." She sighed, reaching over the table, patting his hand, before pulling away. "I'd like to say you have treated me to the best milkshake and burger in my life," She laughed weakly, unsure of whether or not to break the somber air.

Veronica, obviously, was all for that. "Yay!" She began a small clap, looking at her boyfriend and friend eagerly, "We've all made up! And I forgive you Archie for being a dick to my new bestie." She shot Betty a wink.

Betty flashed a short grin, unsure of whether or not that was serious. Best friends? So quickly? It touched her, but she still felt that same deep sadness at the idea that the two people before her would never understand her for who she wanted to be. Archie gazed at them both before tugging his lips into that boyish smile.

"But… I do want to know." Betty squirmed, uncomfortable, "Why do you hate him? Surely it's not that he's just a Serpent."

She squashed the mood again.

The couple looked at each other, unsure, before looking at their hands, "It's a bit of a … touchy subject for Archiekins." Veronica murmured, "Let's just say…"

"No, no, it's okay." He gently sighed, "I owe her an explanation." He struggled to find the right words, instead deciding to take a drink from his ice cream soda. Swallowing, he began, "You're right, though. Jughead and I weren't enemies, once upon a time." He pulled a face, realizing how ridiculous that sounded, "Well, it was only a few years ago. We were best friends."

You wouldn't have guessed that.

"Yeah, I know." Archie understood her facial expression perfectly, "We were … The best of friends you'll ever see. No one could tear us apart. We went to detention together, we hung out together, we were practically sleeping at each others place every other night… You couldn't think anything would happen." He sounded almost wistful, "Even when we got into high school, when his dad introduced him to the Serpents- he seemed fine. A bit more… Aloof. Spent a bit more time by himself, but still… Fine. And then…"

He swallowed.

Betty couldn't help but see Veronica stroke his arms lovingly. "My dad owns a construction company. Used to be pretty successful. It's … Hard times now. Has been because of Jug." He can't look at Betty now, he instead looked out the window. The fluro pink and blue lights of Pop's struck his face and hardened the lines. It was easy to see his adams apple jump a few times. "Jug's dad used to work for him, so did a few of the serpents actually. Dad thought it would be nice to help them out, they were all single moms and dads, struggling because another factory in the South Side was shut down again. It worked for a while. Things went smoothly. The next thing we know, I wake up and find dad in tears. The Serpents destroyed everything. They wrecked a job we were doing, broke the tools, took our money and …" He trailed off, flicking the metal cup lightly.

Betty gulped.

Suddenly it all felt a bit real. When her mom had mentioned the Serpents were 'criminals', it was just a word. Something she couldn't imagine was real- but … Here was someone who had been impacted by it. Jughead had been a part of that? She figured it made sense: if he was 'bad' he had to be actually bad, not, smoke a cigarette and stay up past your bed time bad. Her whole body felt as if it were suffocating, as if she couldn't drag enough air in. He'd winked at her. The whole school had their eyes on her. What had she done?

"Yeah." Archie could feel the silence was thick, "That's not the end of it."

"Oh,"

"We almost filed bankruptcy. My mom's a lawyer, she helped bail dad out of a few things, but we couldn't press charges against the Serpent scum. They had too many loopholes, had left no finger prints- all we know is they never showed up for an explanation. Dad tried to confront FP, Jughead's," Archie spat the name, "dad… The ass hole laughed, drunk. Every night he went back to confront him, the bugger was drunk. One night, FP simply punched dad in the face. Mom left after that, divorced him, left to New York. We're still recovering financially. It sucks." His voice wavered a bit, but ever the big boy, Archie swallowed and let out a small grunt, "But yeah. Hate that snake fucker. Hope he fucking crashes his bike."

Veronica leant against him, gazing at his hands that were flexing with rage. Betty felt slightly useless, unable to justify her excitement at the leather clad man.

"I'm sorry." Betty whispered.

"For what?"

"Bringing it up." She explained, quietly, saddened, embarrassed and panicked. She felt her hands squeezing together, nails digging in to her flesh. Even though nothing had happened- even though her fleeting feelings were just that, a small crush, a gaze here and there, she'd felt as if she'd glorified a path she never should take.

Was something wrong with her? She should simply take joy in her lacey, pastel path of perfection. Not wish for rebellion.

Archie shook his head, "Doesn't matter. I just know, whatever I do, I'll be better than him. Scum stays at the bottom. I'll show him liars and thieves …" He couldn't continue, he was far too bitter. Veronica kissed him passionately on the cheek, allowing him to lean against her lovingly. Betty sipped at her milkshake, fingering her barely eaten burger.

"Hey," Veronica perked, "It's no issue. We're all here. New friends," Betty awkwardly smiled, "New opportunities- and a new year. Our final year."

"Yikes," Betty laughed, shoving everything behind her, "Our final year. Can't believe it."

"Yeah." Archie had his smile back, shaking away the clouds around his head, "It'll be a good one. You'll enjoy it here."

"We promise!" Veronica grinned her pearly whites.

Betty wasn't able to eat, she simply allowed Archie to scoff it down after his fries. By the time she'd come home, the sky was almost dark.

Alice sat in the kitchen, twirling a wine glass in her hand, sipping occasionally as she read something off of her phone, "Oh, Betty."

"Hey mom- sorry, I know,"

"You didn't tell me you were staying out late."

"I should have." The young blonde honestly didn't have the patience for this. She really didn't. All she wanted to do was collapse, not worry about studying or thinking or anything, she just wanted to sleep. "I'm sorry."

"Yes, you should have." Alice stood up, placing her wine and phone down, straightening her navy slacks out. "What was so important for you to stay out without messaging me?"

"I…" Betty struggled for words, watching as Alice raised her arched brows expectantly, "Archie is in my English class. We were deciding what book to do our assignment on." Not a total lie. There was an assignment, but Archie was definitely not her partner yet.

Alice Smith was not born a fool, but she had some form of confidence that her daughter always invested time and effort into her studies. While she wanted to doubt it or still rant about communication and being late… She had a pleased look on her face, much to Betty's relief. "Oh. Well. I'm glad. Come and sit down, tell me all about it. And- uh, before you do that, I will just let you know, until I can get you to continue your ballet in a week or two, you will be practicing here. Every night. Stretches and basic moves."

Betty withheld the groan bubbling in her throat, "There's no space."

"I cleared Polly's room a year ago, use that one."

"I left my shoes with dad."

Alice smiled, knowing full well Ballet was not, definitely not, Betty's choice of relaxation. However, it was a passion the older woman never had the luxury of enjoying in her life. "How lucky, I bought you some today. They won't be perfect, but your dad is express mailing yours and the measurements to us now." Perky and happy she'd won, Alice made her way to the stove top, "And then after your exercises, we'll have dinner, you can study, and then bed time."

So no time to relax? Of course.

Polly's room was essentially the same room as Betty's, however, cleared of all furniture it seemed to transform. It was weird. A room that had been full of lilac and purple dolls, rugs, curtains, tables- there was space. It was a ghostly reminder of Polly's radiant perfection. She had never strayed, never disobeyed. She had done her duties as the eldest daughter: succeeded.

Betty wasn't into dancing. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. While she was good, she was certainly not the best. Which was fine. She thought it was such a waste of money. A waste of her time. But Alice had told her to do it. With a sigh, Betty shoved on the pointe shoes, wrapping them, scratching at the soles as they were brand new. Stretching, another reason to hate ballet struck her. It let her think.

If she were someone like Polly, someone who danced for a living, someone who enjoyed it, she would enjoy that time.

Betty, however, didn't want that. Especially after that afternoon, she wanted to avoid thoughts. She'd rather sit in bed and mindlessly scroll through facebook. She didn't want to think.

As she flexed her ankles and let her body crack in contortion, she found her mind jumping to what Archie had said. Surely… Surely that wasn't Jughead's fault. And if Jughead was guilty… Betty glared at her pink, satin shoes, swapping to another stretch angrily. Well, Betty still … Well she still thought he was her way out of the rosy hole her family was dragging her into. He could be the opium to her anger and pain.

But it could be dangerous. If he was part of a gang that could terrorize locals, peddle drugs and hurt people… Would Betty want that? And would she want the fall out? She could only imagine the look of betrayal on Archie's face, the anger from Veronica…

But she could also imagine freedom: hair whipping into the wind, heart jumping into a pool of heated rouge… Sadly, though, these thoughts- these visions- the projected guilt and happiness… It was all a dream at this point. But after that evening, with the look he'd shot her, the growling motorcycle, the inviting smirk…

But no. She couldn't… Shouldn't. Wouldn't.

It left a bitter taste in her mouth, thinking about what Jughead and his gang had done. And perhaps, if they lived up to the expectation of violent hooligans, what were the odds they wouldn't live up to murderer as well?

She had to stay away. It was one way Alice and her father had succeeded in controlling her life. Riverdale was her jail cell, a strict regime her punishment. And while freedom looked so close, so alluring, she wouldn't… couldn't and shouldn't fall into the hands of violence.

As she began her basic moves, twirling, she was resigned to her fate. And that's when she had to focus. Focus on her moves, perfect them, make sure her muscles hadn't forgotten her moves.

Betty just ate and studied in her room, blaming a headache but promising nothing but hard work for Alice. But there wasn't anything to study. She had her history books out, flopped at random pages, highlighters strewn across her work book. If Alice came in, it looked like work at least. Pursing her lips, she brought out her phone, ensuring it was on silent, before going on Instagram. She could see a rush of followers from Riverdale obsessively requesting access to her account. Some names she recognized, others she didn't but they had mutual followers, she would accept them.

Had she been more social, maybe she'd shoot messages to her ex-classmates from previous schools to maintain ties- maybe she should message Veronica or Archie or someone named Josie or Reggie? Try to get to know these Riverdale dolls.

Whilst Betty was a coward (she wouldn't really message anyone) she was human. She stalked a few pages. Josie was in a band, Reggie played football with Archie, Kevin enjoyed motivational posts, Veronica liked gloating about her latest online buys- someone named Cheryl really enjoyed the color red and edgy filters that still fit in with the rosy life of Riverdale. There were more people who'd followed her that she could recognize.

It was boring. All boring. There was no proof of parties, of a life where perfection was fake- Betty felt her legs numb and her stomach clench. It made her sick, frankly. She felt trapped.

That night, her mind painted a scene of deep reds, rich indigos and sweaty sheets. Her mind had imitated poorly the touch of skin against skin, of lips on lips, fingers invading and fondling and scratching… But it was real enough for her. It was the midnight dream that woke her up, unable to return to those heavy, heart strumming lands of sleep. Her body was warm, it tingled, it felt sensitive. It ached for that dream. For the icy blue eyes that peered into hers from between her thighs, for the ebony hair that tickled her breasts, for the rough fingers that gripped her throat firmly. She ached for the boyish smirk that released warmth from her core.

And whilst that Jughead had appeared in her dreams, it was like he'd disappeared from Riverdale altogether the next day. Perhaps he was embarrassed with what happened that day in English.

Perhaps he had business to attend to.

Either way, Betty felt her next few days- becoming weeks- become a bit more bleak. Even as she joined the Blue and Gold and wrote small articles about new additions to the cafeteria meals, about team spirit and cheer meetings, there was no passion or excitement.

Occasionally she would hear the roar of the motorcycle from within the Blue and Gold office where she spent her afternoons with Veronica (who had decided to impose on those moments of peace and quiet to chat about whatever exciting piece of gossip struck the school), but she was wary of JB's roll of the eyes and Veronica's scoff. Clearly, her clenching stomach and yearning for those blue eyes was unwelcome.

But then- on a warm Monday, while the birds chirped, the cheer team practiced on the lawns, the football team tackled and ran around, and while Betty sat under a tree attempting to support Veronica and Archie, it happened.

"Beautiful article, I have to say." His voice was light, hiding a smirk. Betty's head shot up from her phone, mid text with JB about the next school paper article. "An introduction of Caesar salad is certainly welcome to a school that desires more than the plain jane of salads: Greek." He paraphrased, leaning against the tree Betty sat under. He ignored her frozen body, pulling a cigarette from a white packet, placing it between his plump lips, before lighting it in quick succession. "Brilliant."

"Ah-" Betty was dumbstruck. Why- how- was he talking to her? After the last incident and radio silence from him, she supposed, for the best, he'd lost interest. She'd attempted to lose interest, failing to say the least.

The waft of smoke struck her, causing her a slight nostalgic spell from her father. She still coughed. "I'm guessing queen JB told you to write about the 'new and improved' menu of our cafeteria?" He scoffed, huffing and blowing a stream of grey.

It was silent, but Betty was sure he could hear the cogs in her head scraping and burning and failing to come to any conclusion on what the fuck was happening. He expected an answer- she struggled to breathe. Here he was. He wore a black shirt, now, his leather jacket dulled in the shade of rustling leaves, jeans dusty, boots scuffed- beanie firmly on his head. Eyebrow raised, expectant.

"Uh-" Betty blinked, "Yes. There isn't a lot of freedom in choosing the subject." Her eyes widened in shock as he nodded, drawing the cigarette away from his lips, tapping it, bringing it back for another drag. Had she really just said that? Initiated further conversation? With him? The man she'd told herself to stay away from? Not only that, had she really just told him that? She hadn't told anyone that. Everyone loved JB. Well, feared her was the correct word. Including Betty. Why would she openly admit that working for the Blue and Gold was working under constant censor of subjects she really wanted to discuss?

"Yeah. Trust me, it's not what it's cracked up to be." He mumbled, gazing down at her. "It's a bunch of bullshit. I stay away from this shit." He waved vaguely at the girls dancing and flipping in perfect order and the men throwing and catching balls, tackling dummies and running across the field. "Fake bullshit."

"Fake?" She murmured, of course agreeing. It wasn't fake in the sense that it was an illusion. Just that… It was ridiculously… Not what she wanted. It seemed perfectly orchestrated, out of a movie or a book.

"Yeah. A panopticon of bullshit drones." He explained, deadpan. The smoke blew into her face. She inhaled, almost greedily, and he seemed to notice, offering her one. She looked away, rejecting it immediately all though it pained her to do so.

Betty didn't answer. She didn't want to engage. Of course she did. She wanted to be offered a cigarette and take it and whisked away. Fucked against the tree, maybe, or taken for a ride away from everything. But she couldn't take anymore of this risk: if anyone saw her, with him, people would be mad. Archie- he would be mad- and Veronica would make that face (that one that was a cross of outrage and disappointment). She looked away, at her shoes, intensely studying the white leather and how it complimented her white socks and how it seemed to contrast against her peachy flesh and how everything was supposed to be like that: perfectly peachy, innocent and sweet.

She hummed slightly. She couldn't risk the disaster of losing her friends, of getting in trouble. The freedom she wanted- it could be him. But it could also be her downfall.

Silence fell, and Jughead seemed to gather what she was trying to do. "Hm." He hummed, forceful and with a slight sneer. "If you're curious to know how you're doing her, sweet cheeks," his lips curled over the name he'd blessed her with, "You're doing great. You fit in like a puzzle piece, like a barbie in this little, plastic doll house. To be honest, I was nervous for a minute. I can see skill in you're writing, as if you have something inside of you, something real."

Each word was like a cut, running around her body, slowly shredding her to her core. She stared at the grass, refusing to look, face slowly burning beet red.

"But… That was a mistake on my part." He admitted, smirking, "Fun to look at, that's it."

He threw the cigarette by her thighs, crushing it with his heavy boot. It felt as if it were her stomach underneath his foot, crushed and ground down violently. She wanted to puke. And cry. Because she was just that: fake. Nothing real, nothing good. She was a clone, a pretty barbie and nothing more.

Something else was thrown down, directly into her lap, rolling between her thighs, resting on the tanned skirt.

A cigarette.

She looked up, disheartened to see he'd already begun walking away. And there was suddenly no sound able to leave her lips, to call him back. His figure had become tiny by the time she'd let out a small mutter.

"I'm more."

She kept the cigarette, hiding it in the front pocket of her backpack. Her mom wouldn't look. And she probably wouldn't ever smoke it. The risk of her mom finding out- of anyone finding out- was too great. And simply looking at that thin, white tube of dried leaves made her head spin. It was more than a cigarette.

He'd tried talking to her.

Tried… to engage. He'd felt something was there- he'd said so- that she had opinions greater than what shoes were to be worn that day or if prom dresses would be long or short… He'd tried to do what she had dreamed of for weeks: speak to her.

Whilst it left her feeling slightly sick, remembering his harsh words and glare…

She couldn't help but dream of him that close to her. She wanted him closer. And she'd never, ever, felt such an intense lust in her life. The sun had shied away from him, however the light under that tree had illuminated his red lips and tanned skin. The smoke had flowed out of his mouth, blowing from his nostrils, rising and rising to the heavens… His eyes- those ice, blue orbs- had revealed very little, but what she had seen, the interest, anger… It left her wanting more from him.

No one had seen the exchange. Archie and Veronica had strolled up the hill, where all three went to Pop's to meet Kevin for their ritualized afternoon milkshakes.

"That English assignment has been finalized." Archie moaned, "And that fucking teacher hasn't let us choose our partners." He jokingly leant against his girlfriend as if he were faint at that idea. Although distracted, Betty shot him a sympathetic smile. "JB is my partner, babe."

"Ohhh…" Veronica smiled gleefully, taking joy in his pain. Mockingly, she wrapped her arm around him, crooning, "Poor baby, has she chosen the book? I'm guessing it's…"

"Breakfast at Tiffany's." Kevin, Archie and her said in unison.

"Every fucking year." Kevin sighed, "You'd think the school would ban anymore reports on that book."

"Not even I look at that for inspiration." Veronica sighed, gloating proudly. "Our English teacher is letting us choose pairs." She and Kevin grinned, "Dream team!"

"And we've decided," Kevin looked at Betty with a grin, "to write about Romeo and Juliet."

"Cliché." Betty snorted, laughing out loud. Veronica attempted to argue back, but Kevin had shut it down, agreeing with the blonde.

"Of course it is! It's the oldest, most dragged out theme. Lovers kept apart, dying in each other's arms in a cruel twist of fate, suicide, hate, bla bla bla." Kevin sighed, "Girl, we essentially chose the Breakfast at Tiffany's of classical literature."

With a pause, Veronica subsided, "It's true."

"Lucky Betty gets to choose what she wants." Archie grumbled. "I can't believe that shithead is letting you work by yourself."

Betty shrugged, smiling slightly, "I'm new." Her response so far to every handicap she'd been given.

"That's your excuse for everything."

"I'll be using it until the first semester is finished." She flatly agreed, "There was no one else, everyone is paired up. I might as well do what I can by myself." She played with her fingers, stroking her age old crescent shaped scars on the flat of her palms underneath the table.

"As long as you're not with that serpent fuck." Archie grinned.

"Cheers to that." Kevin agreed.

Betty's heart skipped a beat. It was obvious to her that at that point, she had desperately wanted fate to grant her that small, class-based partnership with the leather clad jerk.

That night, she'd gone to the local ballet studio for the first time, met her new tutor, danced, went home, studied, ate dinner and finally retired into bed.

Her hair was wet, her body scrubbed clean and she laid under her covers, unable to rest. Her mind had slowly but surely become consumed with the thought of this rebellious man. She could remember the details. The way his throat had bobbed up and down with every slight swallow, the way his eyelashes framed his eyes, the way his hair was falling from the confines of the beanie… She could smell that smoke, the scent of his body…

It was hot in bed. The window was open but the chilly air and lack of bed sheets afforded her no relief. It clutched at her body, holding her down as her mind threw buckets of thoughts into her head. They filled her up. Did he want to speak to her, did he want to know her- did he want to be friends or more? Was he someone who would want to be her friend? Or did he just want to fuck her?

Did he want to destroy the good girl or unearth something more- something he wanted? Would he try again like she desperately wanted him to? Would he still look at her, would he acknowledge her? Did he mean what he said?

The thoughts dripped into her head, flowing into her stomach before riding very slowly lower and lower, until something stirred, until something else was unbearably warm.

She'd woken up flustered like this in her life a few times, recently more than ever… Usually sleep claimed her before there was a need to do anything but there seemed to be no relief coming, no tendrils of sleep calming her sensitive and aching core.

There was one thing she needed more than ever. Him.

She wanted the image of him, his hands gripping her waist, his tongue dancing up and down between her thighs. She wanted to feel him bruising her body with his tight grip on her body- she wanted to feel something more than his tongue slipping into her. She wanted to hear him in her ear. She wanted- she…

It was as if she'd run a marathon and then was plunged into a deep pool of a vibrant sea. A gasp had unleashed itself from her wet lips, her entire body stiffening. Oh fuck.

As she laid panting, rolling onto her side and struggling to contain her breathing, she couldn't help but admit in a post-bliss haze, she wanted more of him.

She needed more of him.