Chapter Sixteen

Jughead

I wrap my arms around Betty's small body. I hold her close, putting her head on my shoulder. I close my eyes as we hold each other. I keep her close, squeezing her a little more. I kiss her blonde hair and rub her back.

"Can I stay at your place today?" she asks against my shoulder. I feel her arms tighten around my waist. I smile against her head as I kiss her face and then make her look at me, holding her between my hands.

"Nothing would make me happier," I agree.

"My mom is going to hate me forever now," she whispers.

"No, she won't," I say. "Come on."

I take her hand and pull her toward my motorcycle. I am tired of being near this stupid place anyway. Her mom has been nothing but bitchy since she found out about the serpents and what we've been doing. But now that she knows, we can't exactly wrangle that cat back in the bag.

I hold her hand as she throws her leg around my motorcycle. She wraps her arms around my back and leans forward onto me. I make her hold onto me tightly. I wish that I could feel her this close to me all the time.

"Let's get out of here," I say.

"Please."

As we ride along backroads and far off woods, I remind myself that each moment I get to spend with Betty is a beautiful one. I attempt to forget the pain that we both felt during his trial. I attempt to release the pain of every other emotion that has run through my body every moment of this stupid trial.

Finally, we arrive back at my place. I turn the engine off, take off my helmet and hold my hand out to Betty. She smiles as we go back inside. I close the door behind me, making me way to the couch where I pull her over to me so that she can sit on my lap. I kiss her forehead and then wrap my arm around her back. She leans back on me and the arm of the sofa so that we can hold each other.

"What were you thinking about during the trial the other day?" she asks.

"My other trial," I tell her. I lean over and kiss her neck, pulling her strap from her shoulder as I kiss down her arm. She shrugs me off and pushes me away so that she can sit all the way up. I know what she is going to say. Betty gives me that disapproving look that always irritates me so much.

"What?" I ask.

"You are avoiding the question," she says.

"I know."

She tilts her head forward. She rests her hand on my chest and then on the other side of my face, kissing my cheek. She makes me look at her and then we both sit there in complete silence waiting for the other person to crack first. It's almost scary. The kind of scary that tightens your chest and makes your stomach fill with knots and worry. I try to breathe but it comes out in nothing but quivering lips. She brushes her finger over the bottom of my face. I want her to keep her hand there.

"Tell me, Jug," she begs.

I don't want to talk about it but I do want to tell her. I find myself wanting her to know everything about me, even the really bad stuff. Because when the dark finds Betty, suddenly the light shines upon it and even death itself is reversed. Betty brings angels to my most dark of demons.

"In the trial, they kept asking questions as if they already knew the answers to them. They were just assuming that my father beat me and that my mother was crazy. I was trying to be honest but I didn't know what to do. I thought that if I lied I was going to be safe and stay home. It was all terrible," I admit.

"Just talk to me, Juggie" she begs again. This time I nod. I keep my arm around her body tightly so that I can feel my own fingers shaking, so I know she can feel it too. I kiss her forehead before I begin.

I am thrown into the memory like a Vietnam flashback. It's dramatic and terrifying all at the same time. The edges of the memory are foggy but the rest of it is as clear as if I had felt it just moments ago.

I tell her all of it.

The end of the trial is brutal. I'm young. Jellybean is nothing but a bouncy baby on my mother's knee. I am watching from my chair as everyone comes back into the court room. I feel alone but I am surrounded by people.

"Since there is no physical evidence of abuse and Jughead has said that he has never been hit, kicked, punched or beaten by his parents in any way," the judge says. I lean forward in my chair. Jellybean is staring at the judge as if she understands. I put my hand over to her and she grabs my finger, immediately trying to put it in her mouth.

"After the doctor has examined Forsythia…Jellybean, it has been decided that she also has no evidence of abuse or neglect," the judge says. But I can feel something growing in my gut. It's terror, I think. "However…"

I knew that was coming. My mother leans back in her chair. Jellybean doesn't understand. She slouches in mom's hands. Dad is already looking angry, as if he might burst and scream at any moment. Jellybean pulls my finger into her mouth again. I try to focus on the beautiful little girl instead of the pain that I am feeling in my gut.

"It is clear that the trailer the family is living in is not equipped for children. We would like both parents to take a week of parenting courses, fix up their trailer and prove that it is safe and clear for children."

My mom sighs. I don't know what that really means. Can I stay at home? Do I have to go somewhere else? A lot of thought goes through my head as terror comes with it. I put my hand on the back of Jellybeans head as I realize what is about to happen. Mom looks scared. She might cry. I blink back my own tears when I realize this.

"Forsythe Pendleton the third and Forsythia Jones will be sent to a temporary placement for the length of seven days while parenting classes, trailer clean up and proof of safety measures are put into place," the judge says. "As of this moment, Jughead and Jellybean will be taken into the custody of Child Protective Services and driven to their temporary foster home."

No. No. I grab Jellybean as my mom sobs. I hold her to my chest as she realizes that she is being taken from our mom. I stand up in the confusion, holding my baby sister in my arms as I cradle her head. Some guard puts his hand on my back. I turn back to my parents, begging them to give me the right thing to do. I want them to tell me how to act or what to say. They look confused. My father is angry. He doesn't even look at me as he rests his head down in his lap. Mom is crying, almost sobbing. Dad doesn't even look at her. He puts his hand on her back but doesn't look at her. She pushes him off and reaches her arms over, as if to take Jellybean back. But I can't give her back. I squeeze her tight as she cries, screaming for the woman that is screaming for her.

"Alright. It is one week. Come on, miss. Don't make your kids more upset than they already are," another guard says to my mother.

"I'll see you soon," Mom says through her tears. "You'll be fine! You'll be safe there! Take care of your sister!"

"I will, Mom."

I always do.

"God, Jug," Betty says. I drop my hand down my face and rest my head on her shoulder as we lean onto each other.

"Was the home bad?" she asks.

I shake my head, not letting her see my face as we hold each other.

"No. it was fine. It was different. She was scared a lot. But we were okay. I kept her close to me so we were okay."

She nods.

"I'm so sorry that happened," she says. "Afterwards, did you go back home?"

"Yeah. They took a week and then I was allowed to come back home. Nothing changed. When we came back, they were angry with each other and themselves. It was hard. But at least we were there. It was just a few weeks after that where I was playing with matches in the elementary school."

"I remember them taking them from you."

I nod, remembering her pink skirt and blonde hair. She came into the hallway where I was and saw that I was crying. She sat down beside me and saw that I had matches in my hand. She asked me to put them down but I wouldn't.

"When they arrested you…it wasn't right," she says. "We all knew it wasn't right."

I nod.

"I don't want to talk about that anymore."

I lean over her body and kiss her once. We kiss each other again, deepening it every time we lean closer. I kiss her neck and then down her shoulder. she lets me when I move her strap off of her shoulder and pull my hand up her thigh. We hold each other close, kissing and caressing for a few seconds before I hear a knock on the door. Betty tilts my head back and kisses me again right under my jaw.

"Don't answer it," she says.

I smile as I kisses her again. then there is a banging. It doesn't sound like knocking. It is more desperate and unstable than that. I jump off of her and stand up. She rolls her eyes as she pulls her hand back to me.

"Come on," she says.

"What if it's important?" I ask.

I open the door as Betty crosses her legs on the couch feet from me. I am not expecting what I see. Archie Andrews is at my door step, bloodied and bruised with his button up torn and his shoes nowhere in sight.