"Is my mom a serpent? I need to know." This was big news. If Betty's mom was a serpent, then we were crossing social norms and hierarchies well beyond simple friendship. My gut instinct told me no. Alice was the furthest from the greaser lifestyle as they come. Her hair was always perfectly coiffed, she wore fancy outfits, and she co owned the newspaper with Betty's father Hal. It was simply impossible. What kind of moron would run a paper when their mere life was a scandal? It seemed ridiculous. But there was a pleading in her eyes that I couldn't win against. I sighed.

"Look, Betty, I really don't know but my dad isn't home so maybe we can find something here," I relented.

"Can't we just wait for him to come back?" Betty was the kind of girl that almost always managed to get what she wanted. This was not good.

"Betty... I don't want you to meet my father. Archie has barely met my father and his dad was as thick as thieves with my dad when we were in diapers. It's not a good idea." She huffed at me but it felt dangerous, the idea of having my dad around someone as innocent as Cooper and I had to protect her at all costs.

We moved to the living room and I started sorting through papers on the coffee table while she grabbed me a glass of water.

"Find anything?"

"Aside from a stack of unpaid bills? Not much. There's this name, Joaquin, but that's about it." I think I met that guy before. He was on his way out while I was on my way in. Once my mom left, my dad hit this weird spot where he tried to shield me from his life while simultaneously feeling more comfortable to do his work from our place. That must be some cognitive dissonance, dad.

"Maybe we should just wait around, then." I was getting frustrated. She was an unstoppable force to my immovable object.

"You are not meeting FP Jones. Not tonight, hopefully not ever." I tried so hard to sound firm instead of mad but a tear rolled down her cheek none the less and she turned away from me.

"Why can't you just trust me, Juggie? I want to be a part of your life. We're friends, aren't we?" Shit.

"Betty, of course we are, and we'll figure this out somehow. This stuff is just really toxic and I won't be able to live with myself if I get you involved. Just let me walk you home. We can try something else tomorrow." Tomorrow was Saturday so we would have all day to investigate. I would be her human shield, and if it gave her piece of mind I would go to the end of the earth to solve this case.

We walked out the back alley exit from Sunnyside trailer park in case my dad's truck came barreling in at the same time we were leaving. It was just an added precaution. The further away from gang lifestyles Betty was, the better I would feel about it all. This of course solidified my decision to never ever tell her about my secret feelings. Ever. That might seem a bit excessive, but I couldn't anchor her to the bottom feeders of the social classes when she had so many aspirations.

When we got to her door I remembered the merangues and I handed them to her. Apparently she hadn't had them since she was a little girl and she grinned like it was the best part of her day. It wasn't exactly a fantastic day so maybe it was.

As she went in, I saw Alice watching us from behind the living room curtains. She looked a bit skittish, but I brushed it off since Betty had said there were problems at home.

I wasn't ready to face my dad yet, after searching through his stuff, so I went out to Pop's. After ringing in the serpents, I was feeling a bit more powerful, a bit more safe. It was a chance I felt comfortable taking and I sat there drinking a soda while I waited for a triple decker burger to overcompensate for all that walking I just did. If I spent less money on food I could probably afford a car. Maybe not Archie's Model T jalope or our fathers' trucks, but I'm sure I could put a lemon on the road. Despite my whoopee hat and haphazard belonging to a class that is known for loving cars, I only had a regular level interest in cars, maybe even a bit less. I'm no mechanic, that's for sure. Betty was better at fixing cars than I am despite that being "improper" for a dame like her. Not a lot of people knew that about her, of course. It might not be as big a deal if she was a greaser like me, but such is life. I didn't regret not owning a car anyways because it'd just waste money that could go towards food.

I was on the last bite of my burger when he showed up yet again. Yep, you guessed it, the one and only Chuck Clayton. I'd give you a prize for guessing it right if I had the cash.

It was too public there, though, and two greasers in leather jackets stepped in front of him. One held out a pocket knife and the other accidentally grabbed his comb. I rolled my eyes at their embodiment of a stereotype. It made me wonder if I had gained a new level of respect from gang members or if my dad did notice how banged up I was and asked the guys to watch out for me. It didn't really matter at the time as I asked them to let Chuck through. He glared at me from the other end of the booth.

"You're lucky I don't have a gun on me. Being the king of scum doesn't prevent you from being scum, boy. I am not intimidated by your grunts. Last warning, don't mess with me."

I held the bridge of my nose, annoyed with how pompous this guy really was. In some alternate universe he was probably pals with Archie at football practice but here he was a straight up varsity-level tool. "You can go now." I shooed him from the diner and was followed home by the two guys from earlier. It almost felt like having bodyguards which was a heck of a lot less cool than you've probably been led to believe.

They nodded their heads at my dad who nodded back and dismissed them when we got back home, leading me to only assume my theory of FP asking them to watch me was the true. That left a pretty big elephant in the room.

"Is it just for my protection, or are they spies, too?"

"The former unless they have something interesting to report back. You got yourself in quite a mess, kid. Clayton has a lot of money and power in this dumpy little town. You don't want to mess with people like that. My protection will only extend so far, Jug." I rolled my eyes. I didn't need the lecture, I knew full well the horror house I was walking into.

"Do you know an Alice? Probably about the same age as you and she married a guy named Hal Cooper."

"You're kidding, right? Of course I know Alice Smith Cooper. We all grew up in this town, you know, went to the same high school you go to. Now Alice was as much an enigma as she was a spitfire. She briefly joined us rebels, or what you kids now call greasers, but bounced back when she became Riverdale royalty with her homecoming king, Hal Cooper. Only person I've ever met do the jump, but it always made me wonder why." My head was spinning. If she dropped in social class but was brought back up, what happened, and how was it connected to Hal? I wanted to run out and call Betty on the pay phone, but I couldn't guarantee a secure line and the last thing I wanted was for her to get in trouble with her parents because of me.

Is Alice Cooper a serpent? Yes. And no. The answer was more complex. At one point she clearly was, but her involvement at this point was unknown. Betty was right and I had a feeling we were on the edge of a breakthrough.

Just who are you, Alice Cooper?