Line break means a change in POV.
At nine, on the dot, Jughead heard his doorbell ring and smiled to himself – of course today she was punctual. He glanced through the peephole and saw her standing there in a pink t-shirt and blue jacket, her hair pulled back into its signature ponytail. He opened the door and she smiled at him.
"Ready?" She asked.
"Good morning to you, too," he said, and she rolled her eyes but continued smiling.
"Yes, yes, good morning. But are you ready to leave?"
"I will be in a minute. Just have to pack a few final things. Come in," he said, leaving the door open as he retreated to his room to get his backpack. Once he was done, he came out and saw Betty literally sitting on the edge of her seat. "Did you have something to eat?"
"I had coffee," she said, waving a hand as if food and sustenance were suddenly trivial things, needed only by lesser humans.
"You need to eat something, Betty," he said, deciding to make some toast and scramble some eggs.
"No, I need to see my sister."
"It's going to be a long ride."
"I'll be fine," she said, moving from the couch to the breakfast bar. Jughead had flashbacks to Jellybean refusing to eat as a kid and only agreeing to eat when she saw him eat. He had been forced to use the tactic multiple times irrespective of whether he had already eaten.
"Okay, great, but I won't be, so I'm going to eat something," he said, in spite of having already eaten. He considered it a boon that he was capable of eating endlessly.
"Jughead, we agreed on nine," she groaned from behind the counter but he ignored it, humming Let It Snow as he put bread in the toaster and made the eggs. "And it's even worse that you're humming that god awful song!"
He put the plate down before her and, on cue, her stomach growled. She glanced down at it, her face turning red with embarrassment as she refused to meet his eye.
"You know, I could always just make you some breakfast really quickly," he said and she scowled. Luckily, it seemed her hunger won over her pride because she nodded.
"Okay."
"Okay…?"
"Okay I'll have some breakfast," she muttered before Jughead could take his first bite. He grinned and nudged the plate in her direction.
"Good, because I've already eaten."
They ended up leaving at half past ten, with Betty in the driver's seat so that they'd go faster than they otherwise would have. However, as Jughead would soon find out, Betty gave a new meaning to driving slower than a grandmother. This resulted in an argument (which Betty tried to win by claiming that Jughead was stereotyping elderly women) which ended with Jughead behind the wheel.
"So, you nervous?" He broke the hour of silence they had fallen into. He heard her inhale deeply at the question and exhale with equal vigour.
"A little bit," she claimed, but he could hear her nail tapping the back of her phone continuously. "I mean, sure I'm seeing Polly after five years, but that doesn't mean anything has to change, right? She's still my sister. My beautiful, fun-loving, incredible sister. And she will be happy to see me. Well, I hope she'll be happy to see me."
"I thought you said she wanted to see you."
"Yeah but that was over the phone. People can be very different in real life, you know. My sister is no exception. Especially since she gave up being daddy's little girl at around ten, much to my parents' dismay."
"Ah. So that's when you had to step up?"
"And be Miss Perfect? Exactly," Betty agreed with a laugh. "Yeah, Polly did it all. She was on the cheerleading squad – against my mother's wishes – and she dated anyone and everyone and was genuinely popular and well-liked."
"She sounds great."
"She was. Is. Sorry, I'm not used to speaking about her in present tense."
"No, it's fine, I get it," he quickly said, to assuage her evident guilt. She looked at him for a few moments – studying it, it seemed – before allowing a small smile and looking away. They fell back into silence. This was the kind of silence that led to people being consumed by thoughts. In Jughead's case, his mind went back to the previous night – it was still bizarre that so much had happened in less than a day. When he shut his eyes, he could still feel her phantom breath on his lips and hear the loud banging, interrupting what could be something he had been anticipating for too long.
"You better not be calling to cancel plans already," Jellybean warned over the phone and Jughead scratched the back of his neck, out of habit.
"I'm really sorry, JB. It's just, something came up."
"Something more important than seeing your sister for the first time in too long?"
"I'll buy you the most incredible Christmas gift, I swear!"
"I expect nothing less considering you're ditching me for that Cooper girl," she name dropped in the most nonchalant way, Jughead nearly dropped his phone. It was weird how clumsy he seemed to get whenever someone mentioned Betty. After careful pondering, he had come to the conclusion that he was clumsy when she was mentioned to get it out of system so he wouldn't drop everything around her.
"That's not—" he began defensively.
"Don't even try. Just promise me something, okay?" Jellybean interrupted in her professional, manager, no-bullshit tone. "You waited three years last time. Three years too long. Promise me you won't make the same mistake twice."
"Jellybean—"
"Promise."
"I promise I'll try," he said his resolution out loud – he had been living by it so far. Three years was far too long to be in unrequited love with someone.
"Betty?" He finally said, needing to figure it out.
"Hmm?" She replied, sleepily. He didn't have to look at her to know she was dozing off.
"Nothing. Go to sleep," he breathed out, relieved that confrontation wasn't going to happen immediately. He saw her shift in her seat as she got comfortable and ready to sleep.
But then again, there's no time like the present.
"Betty?" He questioned again and she groaned in response.
"What?"
"I wanted to ask you about last night," the second the words left his tongue – as reluctantly as they did – she sat up, suddenly much more awake than she had been a minute ago.
"Right. I wanted to talk about that, actually. I'm really sorry I kicked you out like that, Jughead. I mean, Veronica was all upset and there was so much happening, I'm just, I'm sorry," she said quickly, but Jughead hadn't been referring to that aspect of the evening. And he suspected that she knew exactly what she had been referring to.
"Betty, that's-"
"Awful? Horrendous? Absolutely the opposite of hospitable? I agree!" Once again, she spoke with the haste of avoidance. Jughead sighed and, after a beat, gave her a smile.
"- alright," he finished and she gave him a smile of gratitude. "What did Veronica want anyway?" Instantly her face hardened, any trace of a smile vanishing as she crossed her arms over her stomach defensively.
"Nothing. I'm going to sleep," she announced and turned away from him. This sparked Jughead's curiosity further but he knew better than to push right now. After all, whatever had happened between Betty and Veronica was the reason they were going on a road trip now. He supposed he should just thank his lucky stars for the timing of it all.
Betty couldn't sleep.
But even pretending to sleep for nearly an hour was easier than having to deal with confrontation about the night before. After all, she wasn't born yesterday – she knew what Jughead was referring to when he mentioned the night before. And all it did was bring back what Veronica was saying about them being together.
She didn't blame Veronica for thinking what she had. That woman, for all her faults, was observant as hell.
Thinking about Veronica brought with it another flurry of confused emotions of jarring colours. Betty still wasn't sure how she felt about the whole Veronica–Archie situation. She wasn't reacting really as negatively as she would have a year ago. Or as negatively as she had when Veronica and Archie had stumbled out of that closet at Cheryl's party. In fact, it was her lack of minding that was completely messing with her mind. This wasn't how it was supposed to be – she was supposed to play the part of the jealous in-love-with-best-friend girl. She had played the part so many times in the past it seemed like a natural response at this point.
The lack of it left her hollow. Hollow and confused.
That's a tagline for a business card if I ever heard one.
And all these emotions were just further confused when she thought of the events preceding Veronica barging in. She wondered how far things would have gone, trying to repress all these thoughts - deciding that it was too high school for her.
"Betty?" She heard Jughead whisper after an hour of pretending. Blearily she opened one eye, trying to fake the sleepiness to the best of her ability. "We're here."
On a scale of One to Absolute Dread, Betty was way past Absolute Dread. Her stomach churned with nerves as she stared at the house they had pulled up beside.
"Your sister's got a nice place," Jughead said, evidently trying to make the situation less tense.
"Yeah. Apparently a lot can change in five years," she replied, frozen in place. Without warning, Jughead opened his door, making her jump.
"Well, let's go, then," he said, walking over and opening the door for her. She stared at the door.
"What? Now?" She asked, hearing the stupidity the second it came out. He chuckled in response.
"No, Betty, next year. Preferably now, yes."
"Right. Of course," she said, reluctantly getting out. She hadn't been this nervous when trying to get into college. In fact, she couldn't remember the last time she had been this nervous. Taking hesitant steps to the front door, she felt Jughead close behind her. Her fingers itched to reach behind for his, for comfort, assurance, anything. But, simultaneously, she didn't want to do anything which could be construed for something it wasn't. Instead, she chose to take in the house before her.
It was a big house. Well, big considering the last time Betty had seen her sister, Polly had been a single mother of two with no steady income (the latter of which led to her staying with their parents). It was like a house from a fairytale, with a mesh of vines on the porch fence. If she stood at the beginning of the path to the house, Betty could see plants hanging from the overhead balcony, pink flowers dotting the green stems. The lawn was mowed and smelled fresh and Betty could see trees lining the path to the backyard.
"You okay?" She heard Jughead murmur behind her, and with a deep inhale and a forceful exhale, she began nodding, her head moving faster as her resolve strengthened. "Your head's going to fall off if it goes any faster," he chuckled behind her, bringing a smile to her face. She suddenly felt a rush of gratitude at him being here.
"Let's do this," she said more to herself than him and felt his hand brush her back. It was weird how, with the slightest touch, she already felt more supported by him than Archie.
Archie. Archie and Veronica. Association's a bitch.
They walked down the picturesque path to the front door. The door even had a knocker (even though Betty preferred the bell), which she caught Jughead marveling at. They waited for a few seconds but the door didn't open. She glanced at Jughead – if Polly didn't open now, she wasn't sure she'd have the stomach to come back for round two. He seemed to understand as he stepped a little closer to her. Raising her hand, her finger was on the button when the speaker beside the bell came alive.
"Who's there?" She heard Polly's voice and, as a reflex, Betty felt her eyes fill with tears, a grin appearing on her face. She laughed, not knowing what was filling her heart but it was something akin to the most intense happiness Betty had ever had the pleasure of feeling.
"It's me," she said into the mic and, a few seconds later, heard the door being unlocked. It opened slowly to reveal Polly Cooper. Sure, she was wearing a stained sweatshirt, her hair was a mess, and her yoga pants were big enough to trail the ground around her red and green socks. But it was still her.
Betty had never understood what not believing your eyes meant until this moment.
Polly grabbed Betty's arm, an equal look of disbelief on her face before it melted into a smile.
"You're real," she breathed and threw her arms around Betty, pulling her into the tightest hug Betty could ever remember. Burrowing her face into her sister's neck, Betty held her close too, taking in the scent of flowers and powder – two quintessentially Polly smells. Pulling up her head, she saw Jughead step away out of the corner of her eye and, dropping one hand, reached behind her and held his, squeezing it once – asking him to stay. He smiled at her and she let go as Polly pulled away. "How did you find me?" She finally managed to get out after reining in the tears.
"I had some help," Betty said, smiling at Jughead. Polly's eyes widened as if she was only just realising that Jughead was there.
"And who is help?"
"Polly, meet Jughead Jones. He's the newest addition to our little Riverdale family. Jughead, this is my sister."
"I gathered," Jughead said, smiling and holding out his hand. Polly took it, shaking it harder than their mother would have approved of.
"Very nice to meet you. Come in. Betty, I want to hear everything that's going on with you!" Polly said, grinning and pushing open the door wider to let them in.
Betty's breath was taken away.
Quaint had never been a more appropriate word than it was when she entered Polly's house. It was small on the inside, with furniture packed together and a warm fire crackling in the living room. A Christmas tree stood in a corner, lit up and with presents decorating its base. She took a seat on the couch, smiling with a twang of sadness as she looked around.
"It's not much, I know. But, hey, it's home," Polly said, clearing up the books lying around.
"It's beautiful, Pol," Betty assured and her sister shot her a smile, moving slower when she put the books away. Jughead, who was sitting beside her, was busy fiddling with his phone.
"Hey, um, the signal sucks here so I'm just going to step outside for a bit. You'll be okay?" He asked Betty and she chuckled at his concern.
"I promise I won't eat the furniture, Jughead."
"Well as long as my biggest fear doesn't come true," he grinned and excused himself. Polly replaced him, pulling up her legs and grinning at Betty, waiting expectantly for something – Betty wasn't exactly sure what. So she resolved to giving back the same grin.
"So?"
"So…?"
"So what's up! I mean, this is the first time I've seen you in five years – I want to know everything!" Polly said and Betty's eyebrows rose.
"Everything that's happened to me in five years? Not much. I mean, I'm sure it's not nearly as exciting as what's been happening to you, what with the kids and all. Where are they, by the way?"
"Juniper and Jasper are… with their grandparents," Polly hesitated and, if Betty had been drinking something, she would have spit it out.
"They're with mom and dad?"
"… Not exactly."
"Wait," Betty could feel the dread seeping into her veins, "don't tell me… they're with the Blossoms? But… why?"
"Betty, I appreciate your concern, but Penelope and Clifford insisted that they get to see the kids on Christmas Eve. And it's just once a year, so I figured no harm, no foul, right?"
"Sure," Betty said hesitantly. She knew that after all these years, she had no right to dictate how Polly should raise her kids. "So, how are things with you otherwise?"
"Things are good! I have a steady job as a stats analyst for a company and Jason has some huge job that needs a lot of travel, so that's how we're paying for the house," she said and then froze, realising what she had just said. Betty couldn't believe that there was still something that could surprise her.
"Polly… who's Jason?"
"You know: Jason. Cheryl's brother," she said the latter in a smaller, softer voice. Betty wasn't sure her eyes could go wider than they already had.
"Jason's here too?"
"Well he is their dad."
"Polly, you do know everyone back home has been looking for him since high school ended, right?"
"Oh please. The only person truly worried was Cheryl and Jason's already contacted her. They've been meeting regularly. Everyone who matters knows he's alive," she waved her hand, dismissing the subject just as Betty opened her mouth to object to the callousness of the situation. "Now, enough about me and my boring, secluded life. Tell me about yours!" Her eyes sparkled with excitement and Betty found herself giving in. After all, especially after the arrival of a certain someone, her life had suddenly become very eventful.
"What do you want to know?" She gave a resigned sigh and asked.
"Everything! How's the town? How's your job? How are mom and dad? And, most importantly, does that gorgeous new piece of meat mean that you are, at long last, over a certain Mr. Andrews?" Polly rattled off as if she had had the list ready forever. Betty decided to go in order of the questions.
"The town's fine. Veronica's sort of taken over the planning of any town event. Except, now that Cheryl's back, Veronica is being routinely upstaged. The job's good, too. I mean, I quit the Register – one of the best decisions I've ever made – and now I'm working for Reggie."
"Mantle?"
"The very same. I'm – wait for it – the best assistant he's ever had," she said and watched her sister purse her lips distastefully at the title. "Don't worry, I feel the same way. I hope the place burns down again then maybe I can build it up. Anyway, mom and dad are good too, I think. I've seen mom more than dad because she sometimes helps Veronica plan stuff and I ran into her at Pop's a few times. We hardly speak since you left, and after I quit the Register, contact cut off altogether. Now it's been reduced to chance meetings. But I know they miss you very much, Polly. Mom asks about you all the time," Betty said, taking her sister's hands with a smile. Polly flushed, looking away.
"It's not like I don't miss them, you know. I just needed to get out of that house. It was a toxic hellzone, Betty. I couldn't stay there."
"I know, Pol," she said, squeezing her hands once before dropping them. Polly gave her a sad smile before shifting in her seat, her expression shifting to one of mischief simultaneously.
"So, who is Jughead Jones?" Polly asked and Betty instantly felt awkward and very aware of her cheeks flushing.
"Jughead is… no one, really. I mean, he's a writer – you remember FP Jones the Third?"
"Wait, you don't mean… he's the FP Jones? The one you went through a phase for? Didn't you own every book?"
"Yeah. How times have changed, right?"
"They really have," Polly agreed, eyeing her curiously. Betty didn't enjoy this scrutinization.
"So, how's everyone else at home? Archie? Veronica?"
Archie and Veronica. There's a combination of people.
"They're all fine, I guess. Nothing new there."
"And how are you and Archie?"
"We're fine… we're friends," she hoped Polly didn't need her to spell it out. Evidently, distance had not made her sister any less perceptive to her subtextual clues because Polly's eyebrows raised as a smile of what Betty could only believe was pride turned her lips.
"Friends. So, the pining is over then?"
"Well, I figured it was about time," she admitted – she hadn't given Archie much thought in the last few months, if she was being honest. Ever since Veronica's party, she had found herself going farther and farther away from any romantic notions that may have once accompanied Archie Andrews' name. In fact, one night, in a rare moment of clarity, she had even come to the conclusion that she had never been in love with Archie. At least, not the kind of love she had always wanted – she didn't see fireworks or feel like her eyes were sparkling. Instead, in her mind, Archie and her going from childhood best friends to dating to spending their lives together had become a fixed logical progression of events. It was the place Archie had occupied in her future that made it so hard to let go of him.
Except it wasn't really hard once you got the help needed to realise otherwise.
"And I suppose Jughead Jones had nothing to do with this enlightenment?"
"Oh shut up. Jughead helped, but I would have come to the conclusion on my own in time, anyway."
"Sure you would have."
"I don't care for that tone," Betty said, rolling her eyes as Polly laughed.
"Oh god, look at me, not offering anything. Can I get you something? Water? Coffee? Juice? Something to eat?" Polly suddenly said, standing up. Betty laughed and shook her head to tell her that the hospitality – or, as Polly seemed to believe, the lack thereof – was alright.
"I'll just have some water, thanks," she replied before going to the glass door leading to the backyard to ask Jughead if he wanted something. As she approached, she could tell that he was in a heated discussion with someone. His brow was furrowed and he was furiously speaking, occasionally looking to the sky with an incredulous smile on his face. She opened the door and he looked up, hearing it slide. Instantly the frown melted away into a smile.
"Hi, sorry. I just wanted to ask – do you want some water or juice or something?"
"Juice would be fantastic, thanks," he replied. "No I wasn't talking to you, why in the world would I be asking you for juice?" He switched to the person on the phone. Betty nodded and turned to leave when he asked her to wait. "I'm not going to – you know what? Fine. I can't believe she… nothing. Fine, yeah. Well don't celebrate too hard you may break your back. Yeah, okay. Yeah, see you, bye," he finished and hung up.
"Who was that?" Betty asked as he walked into the house with her.
"No one. So, how's your sister?" He changed the subject swiftly and without missing a beat. Betty found herself suddenly curious about the person on the other end of the line.
"She's fine, I think. I mean, even though it's been five years, it's as if nothing's changed," she said, still not sure whether or not that was a good thing. Jughead nodded, his unsure smile betraying the same feelings she had. It was then that Polly walked out, carrying a jug of juice and a water bottle, with two glasses, on a tray.
"Ah, Jughead, you've decided to join us," she commented, giving him a smile and setting the tray down on the coffee table.
"Yes, well, I had to meet the famous sister at some point, didn't I?" He replied, pouring himself some juice. Betty smiled at him – his flattery had already begun.
"Famous, you say? From what I hear, I'm not nearly as famous as you are," Polly leaned back on the couch, hugging her mug of coffee close to herself. Jughead shot Betty a look of disbelief, as if asking why on earth she would mention the author thing. Betty simply shrugged, choosing to sip her water as a strategic maneuver to allow Jughead to stew in his discomfort.
"And yet we've talked about you far more than we've talked about me," he flashed Polly a smile and she chuckled.
"Fair enough."
The rest of the afternoon was whiled away in frivolous conversation about nothing in particular. Betty learned more about Polly's job and Polly learned more about Jughead's. She got caught up on all things Riverdale and Betty found out about Saturday being the day for family outings. They ended up having a late lunch at Polly's house since, just as the plates were being put away, the clock struck five. Polly glanced up and, for a moment, Betty saw lines of worry crease her forehead before she smiled back at them.
"Betty, can you help with the dishes, please?" She asked nicely enough but Betty could sense the ulterior motive. She nodded, telling Jughead to keep himself busy before following her sister into the kitchen. The second she stepped into the kitchen, Polly shut the door behind her. "Okay, you guys need to leave." And there it was.
"What?" Betty didn't mind being kicked out but she had hoped it would be done in a more subtle way. She supposed she must have sounded more hurt than confused because Polly's face melted.
"I'm really sorry – that was rude. Okay, so it's five, which means Jason's going to be back in half an hour. He's going to bring the twins too and I just, I don't think they're ready to see you, yet. Definitely not Jughead but they're not ready to see you. Hell, I wasn't ready to see you either. It's going to be too much of a shock for them, Betty.
"Listen, why don't you come for lunch tomorrow – bring Jughead, too – and then we can have proper introductions instead of meeting like this. I mean, you have to admit, it was kinda creepy that after all the PIs mom and dad sent to find me, Jughead's found me with relative ease. So we can figure out a story, like maybe I invited you and you and Jughead are dating so you brought him with you. Something like that. Is that okay? I'm really sorry," she finished and Betty sighed – she understood where Polly was coming from. After all, if someone she hadn't informed simply showed up at her house, she would probably freak out too. And lord knows she was probably less ready than Jason to see him. The previous high of seeing her niece and nephew had worn off too. Now she wasn't sure she was ready to see them either. So she nodded, a smile of understanding curving her lips as she watched her sister visibly relax.
Now to explain this to Jughead.
Turns out, when she walked out and announced to Jughead that they were leaving, he readily sprung to his feet to leave. It was almost too enthusiastic for her liking. But, choosing to be grateful for the lack of interrogation, she simply walked out with him. They said goodbye to Polly at the gate and then got into the car, with Betty in the driver's seat. She drove them to the corner of the street and turned out of view from Polly before stopping the car. Jughead looked at her curiously.
"Betty?"
"Yeah?"
"We've stopped."
"Has anyone ever told you that you have incredible observation skills?"
"Allow me to rephrase: why have we stopped? I thought we were going back to Riverdale."
"Why would we go back to Riverdale when we're coming back to Polly's for lunch tomorrow? It just makes more sense to stay in Boston, don't you think?" She asked, giving him a smile.
"We're what?"
"Oh yeah, I forgot to mention – I signed you up for lunch at Polly's tomorrow," she said, and he stared at her in silence. "Jughead, are you okay?"
"You didn't even check to see if I had plans?" The animosity in his tone surprised her – she hadn't even considered the possibility that he might have had plans. After all, when he told her that he was willing to come on Christmas Eve, she simply assumed that Christmas remained devoid of events too. "Or did you and your sister simply assume that I would remain at your beck and call? Because apparently that's all I'm good for."
"Jughead, I'm – I'm sorry," she stuttered out. "If you need to go, that's fine. Take the car and go back. I'll find somewhere to stay in Boston. I never intended to – to force you to stay here," she said in a small voice. There had been something off about the way he had been acting after the phone call but she hadn't wanted to pry. Now she found herself desperate to do so, simply to know if it explained his behaviour. She watched his face soften at her tone and felt a little relieved.
"No, Betty, I'm sorry. It's not you – I'm just displacing anger. Of course I'll come to Christmas lunch. It's the least I can do," he apologised and Betty gave him a smile, nodding.
"Well, do you any good hotels in Boston? Since we've officially lost our lodging," she asked and saw his brow furrow for a moment, internally debating something.
"I'll call Jellybean and ask," he pulled out his phone and dialed a number. Betty tapped a finger impatiently on the steering wheel as she listened to the faint dial tone emanating from his phone. It cut off when someone picked up and, to Betty's surprise, she heard a deep voice saying, "Hello?"
"Hey, it's me. Can you check if we can stay somewhere?"
Betty couldn't make out the response and watched as Jughead conversed with the person on the other end.
"Okay, great. Yeah, bye," he hung up and smiled at Betty. "Mind switching? I've got a place." Half an hour later, Jughead was pulling up before an apartment building. Betty hadn't asked so far where they were going, but now that they were pulling up before an establishment that clearly wasn't a hotel, she was curious.
"Jughead, this isn't a hotel," she pointed out the obvious and saw his scoff.
"I know. Isn't this exciting?" He asked with a grin. But Betty could tell that he was nervous as hell about something. She wasn't sure she liked being led into unknown territory but came to conclusion that she trusted Jughead enough so they wouldn't be murdered. Taking out the bags, they went up the stairs to the third floor, where Jughead rapped twice on a door. They waited for a few moments before the door opened, revealing a man wearing a plaid shirt with faded jeans, the shadow of a beard and moustache on his face. He was slightly taller than Jughead and yet they bore an uncanny resemblance to each other. Betty, not knowing how to react, glanced at Jughead, waiting for introductions.
"Hey, dad. Long time no see, huh? Betty, this is my father – Forsythe Pendleton Jones the Second."
Jughead couldn't remember the last time he had felt such unadulterated fury towards his sister. As much as he loved Jellybean and agreed that she was the only one who stuck with him through thick and thin, when his sister told him that his dad knew they were in the same city, it sent a jolt of anger through Jughead. He had long ago decided he wanted nothing to do with the parents who refused to take care of their children – instead choosing to spend their time fighting until his mom left with his sister.
On his worse days, he would recall how he sat on the front porch, waiting for his mom to come back for him, convinced that Jellybean had only gone first because she was younger and that it was only a matter of time before he went too. She never did.
And yet, seeing Betty and her sister reconcile the way they did sent a surge of hope that maybe he could have the same with his family. After all, even though it had been a while, Jellybean had managed to claw her way back into his heart, hadn't she? Even their mother he had managed to fall back into touch with. They had been emailing each other for the past month – something even his sister didn't know. Maybe it was some remnant of a fleeting moment of happiness in the Jones' household (that he couldn't place a finger on even if a gun was held to his head) that created this wishful thinking but, when Betty told him that they didn't have a place to stay, his instinct told him to call his dad.
So here they were, standing before a man, who, apart from enduring a few more grey hairs, looked overall unchanged from the man Jughead left behind at eighteen, thankful to leave the hellhole he begrudgingly called home. He had never expected to see his father again, let alone within the same decade. And Betty looked confused about which emotion to display now that she was faced with a previous generation of Forsythe. Jughead wasn't sure yet whether or not he would regret it – he had seen Betty successfully interact with some of the most difficult people. But, simultaneously, he felt a pang of guilt at springing this on her this way.
"Mr. Jones, it's lovely to meet you," Betty was the first one to break the silence, her shock morphing into a wary smile as she extended her hand. FP glanced down at her hand and slowly, hesitantly, shook it (much to Jughead's relief).
"The pleasure's all mine. Please, come in. I didn't realise Jughead was bringing someone with him when he told me, but the more the merrier, right?"
"Yeah, well, I learned from the best," Jughead muttered, following Betty through the door and into the semi-neat apartment.
A woman traipsed out of the bedroom, giggling, at seven in the morning, encountering an awkward Jughead, who was trying to get through his cereal in peace. His dad followed suit, a grin on his face. Jughead didn't know how to feel – this was the first time he had seen his dad smile since mom had disappeared with Jellybean.
"Oh," the woman said, coming to a stop when she saw Jughead, her smile disappearing. "I didn't know you had a kid, FP."
"There's a lot of things you don't know about me. How about we keep it that way?"
"In that case I better be going," she said, her smile returning as her curiosity perked up.
"You can stay for breakfast. After all, the more the merrier, right?"
Jughead could feel his cheeks flare at the sight of the house. After Polly's neat, picturesque home, his father's flat looked like a dump. He glanced at Betty, trying to read her expression – to see if she felt the way he did. To his father's credit, he seemed to be equally embarrassed by the mess, quickly shifting things and creating space to sit.
"It's not much, I know-"
"It's beautiful, Mr. Jones," Betty interrupted, with a smile. He returned the smile, his face flushing slightly at the compliment.
"You don't have to-"
"No, I'm serious! I mean look at all this space. You could put three bookshelves in here easily. And the balcony is simply amazing – you don't get a lot of places with such large balconies today. You really lucked out with this flat, Mr. Jones," she continued, and Jughead felt a surge of gratitude towards her. FP's face retained the previous flush as he disappeared into the kitchen to see if he could get any snacks or anything (despite Betty's refusal in respect to the late lunch). Once he was out of earshot, she turned to Jughead, all traces of a smile vanishing.
"Okay, you have about sixty seconds to explain."
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you where we were going, but you have your confrontations and I have mine, Betty Cooper. When I went to take a call in your sister's backyard, it was Jellybean calling to tell me that my dad knew we were in the same city. And then, as soon as I hung up with her, dad called and I just… seeing the way you were with Polly, I thought maybe reconciliation could be in the cards for me too," he admitted as quickly as he could, hoping he was staying within the time frame. Betty's eyes softened at the explanation and she opened her mouth to respond just as his father came back into the living room. Instead, she took his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze before taking a seat and continuing conversation with FP Jones.
It was weird watching his dad speak to Betty.
This was the first time he had seen his dad respect someone to this extent. Hell, even when they had gone to the Harper Lee meet (after a lot of straight up begging on Jughead's part), his dad had made sure to make it known to everyone there that To Kill A Mockingbird had nothing on the obscure, terrible book that he was attempting to read at the time. And yet, seated before Betty, he almost made Jughead proud with politeness. After getting pleasantries and jobs out of the way (like most confrontation, FP Jones skillfully avoided the "job" question), Betty threw a smile in Jughead's direction, a glint in her eye.
"So, Mr. Jones, I have to ask – was Jughead always the brooding loner he is today?"
Jughead nearly spat out his drink.
FP, on the other hand, chuckled and shook his head, settling back into the chair – Jughead was familiar with this move. He called it the time-to-tell-a-story maneuver.
"Well, if you must know, he didn't always brood. But yeah, while all the other kids were playing, Jug was off doing lord knows what somewhere. But we knew he was a smart kid and always respected curfew. Of course the other parents thought he was weird but Jug just needed Jellybean and vice versa."
"You moped around even as a six year old?" Betty turned to him, incredulity colouring her tone. Jughead forced a smile out of his embarrassment.
"I'm told I was an old soul," he replied, and Betty laughed.
"Yeah, his mom used to call him that," FP smiled reminiscently, and Jughead started feeling the anger at the mention of his mother seeping back into his veins. Luckily, that was when his father glanced at his watch and jumped to his feet.
"Dammit! I'm really sorry, but I have to be somewhere. It's just – I wasn't expecting company so I arranged a business meeting which I'm already late for."
"Oh, that's no problem," Betty sprung to her feet too, "we should have – we'll get out of your hair. It was rude to come without informing, anyway."
"You guys got a place in Boston?" He asked and they exchanged an awkward glance.
"We can figure something out," Jughead quickly responded and Betty nodded, smiling, satisfied with this reply. FP, on the other hand, seemed in complete shock at this response, as if Jughead had had the audacity to disrespect him under his roof.
"You guys don't have a place to stay? Is this how I raised you?" He exclaimed, referring the second question to Jughead. Jughead had to bite back saying that he had to raise himself.
"Well, I assumed we were going to-"
"I don't care. You know what, Betty? I'm so sorry about my son's incompetence, and the two of you are welcome to spend the night here. There's dinner in the fridge if you're hungry, but I really have to run. I'll see you guys later?"
"We'd love to spend the night, Mr. Jones. Thank you so much," Betty prevented Jughead from protesting the proposition. Jughead looked at her incredulously and she raised an eyebrow, daring him to disagree. He didn't realise that a simple crush meant crumbling whenever she raised an eyebrow and found himself sighing and nodding. FP's face broke out into a grin when she accepted the invitation and, grabbing his bag, he left. Silence fell in the small flat and Jughead, instinctively scratching the back of his neck and adjusting his beanie at the awkwardness, went back and sat on the couch, with Betty following suit. They were definitely alone.
"There's only one bedroom," Betty broke the silence, confusing Jughead.
"Good observation skills?"
"There's only one bedroom – your dad's. One of us will take the couch, but where's the other going to sleep?" She elaborated, rolling her eyes at his unwarranted sarcasm. Jughead realised their dilemma and quickly shook his head.
"I can sleep on the floor or something. You can take the couch."
"How very chivalrous of you," Betty commented, giving him an amused smile. He returned the smile and, with that, they fell back into the previous silence.
"So, things went well with Polly," Jughead commented after a minute of the suffocating silence. Betty was deep in thought about something else, though. "Betts?"
"What? Oh, yeah. Great. I'm sorry she kicked us out like that, though. I mean, my mother would be very disappointed in her. But she made a very good point y'know?"
"Yeah? What was her justification for kicking you out after seeing you for the first time in five years?"
"Jason."
"Like… Blossom?" Jughead had heard a ton about the infamous Jason Blossom. He had heard a chunk of it when Archie had met him in France but even since, Jason was occasionally name-dropped in conversation and would manage to stall the conversation for a few seconds as everyone was collectively uncomfortable with his name. As far as he knew, Jason had got Polly pregnant and they had planned to run away together. However, while Jason did, Polly was stopped by the Coopers and put into a home of sorts. She eventually had the kids and then the grandchildren were taken back with Polly into the Cooper household. Jason's whereabouts, however, remained unknown and, after two years, the Blossoms stopped looking.
"The very same," she replied, nodding.
"And how do you feel about that?" He didn't know how to adequately respond to the information. She gave a laugh.
"Starting to sound like my therapist there," she commented and Jughead was hit by the fact that he didn't know Betty was in therapy. He was also struck by how Polly was the only important aspect of her life he actually knew about. However, deciding this wasn't the time or place to bring it up, he simply mirrored her laugh, averting his gaze to the floor. "Um, I don't know. I'd like to think that if she's happy, I'm happy? But he also got her pregnant at such a young age. But at the same time, her kids made her really happy so… I don't know how I feel about Jason being back. My parents however, if they found out about this, they'd go fucking crazy." He laughed at her candour.
"Hey, if it's any consolation, we're all crazy," he said, smiling at her. She scoffed and looked away and Jughead realised that, less than twenty four hours ago, they had been on the same position, on a different couch, discussing the same person. He wondered again if he should bring it up, the internal battle reappearing between his want and fear of confrontation.
"Promise me you won't make the same mistake twice."
Jellybean's voice rang in his ears just as Betty stood up, much to Jughead's simultaneous relief and dismay.
"I wonder what the view's like from there," she made her way to the balcony and opened the doors, the curtains swaying in the cold night breeze. She stepped out, wrapping her arms around herself for warmth. "Jughead, come out here! You can see the sky," she was looking up, and Jughead walked out too. The balcony looked out to an alley and the wall of a building. However, the sky was clear and studded with stars, the moon hanging between them.
"And the opposite building. Beautiful," he commented sarcastically. She rolled her eyes at him, but her smile didn't dim. "I take it this is the first time you've seen the sky?"
"Shut up. I've just… it's been a while since I've paid so much attention," she replied, and he smiled, stepping forward so he was next to her.
"You know the deal with stars, right?" He asked, remembering something he had read online the previous week. She frowned, turning to face him.
"The deal with stars?"
"Yeah. You know, that we're made of the same stuff they are?" He said, and her frown momentarily deepened – as if to check if he was lying – before it disappeared into a soft smile.
"What? Carbon?" She asked softly and he chuckled, mirroring her volume.
"Yeah but it's much more magical to think of us being made of stardust than carbon."
"Stardust," she said it as if she was trying out the word. "That is beautiful, Jughead Jones." He smiled as she turned back to look at the sky.
"Also," he heard himself say, not having a topic in mind to talk about.
"What?" She asked, not turning to face him. He hesitated, glancing down at her lips, still upturned into a slight smile of awe. The silence must have lasted too long because she turned to face him, curiosity getting the better of her. "What?" She repeated, with a slight laugh.
His hands rose, cupped her cheeks – pink from the cold – and, leaning in, he kissed her.
