Her anger towards Archie's refusal to confide in her, for his knowing accusations that she would take it upon herself to end the relationship, for caring more about Ms. Grundy than himself, than their friendship, had been the initial motivator for wanting to go after the music teacher, but as she slipped through her front door, making her way down the sidewalk, one continuous thought plagued her mind.

Archie could hate me for this.

It was his fault for getting involved with her in the first place, though the last thing she wanted to do was lose him for good.

She had already lost one best friend, she couldn't bear it if Archie disappeared from her life too.

She told Alice she would be studying with Veronica, not that her mother would have noticed her absence anyway. The woman often returned home later than 3:00 AM, living on an unhealthy diet of coffee and Modafinil, or sometimes, Betty suspected, Adderall.

Alice Cooper was nothing if not focused, on her work, that was, definitely not on her elder children, certainly not on her youngest daughter, who got away with pretty much anything she pleased. Betty longed for the day that she would pack her bags and kiss Riverdale goodbye for good. She could go to San Francisco, Polly had already offered her the room, or L.A., to stay with Chic, though his roommate was a little strange.

And then there was Veronica, who had begun to talk about New York, the flat they could rent, going to NYU or Columbia, all the amazing parties and shopping.

So many options, and yet, none of them the perfect escape.

Betty sighed, stuffing her hands further into the pockets of her tweed jacket. It was starting to get cold, leaves falling from the trees, crunching under the soles of her boots.

She was so preoccupied in her thoughts, she never even noticed the echoing footsteps creeping up behind her.

An arm locked around her waist, pulling her back against a muscular chest.

She started to yell for help, but a palm smacked over her lips before she could even get the first syllable out. he thrust her elbow towards their ribcage, nearly making contact with his hard stomach.

"Shit!" A familiar voice muttered. "Damn it, Betty, it's me."

His grip on her waist loosened enough for her to whirl around. As her eyes adjusted to the growing darkness, she caught sight of a pair of familiar blue irises staring back at her in irritation.

His hand fell away from her mouth.

"What the hell, Jug?" Betty demanded, raising her hand to strike him. "Stop doing that!"

Jughead caught her wrist easily, forcing her arm down to her side. She wiggled, but his grip didn't loosen.

"No." He replied, now looking amused. "It's too much fun."

"Jughead."

"Sorry, Betts."

He didn't sound sorry.

"Come on."

Still gripping her arm, he tugged her along behind him down the sidewalk. She wasn't sure why he had yet to let go of her, not that she minded, really. His touch was so familiar, comforting almost.

"You okay?" Jughead questioned, after a moment.

"Fine."

A look of disbelief crossed his face. "Betts-"

"I said I'm fine, Jug."

"Liar." Jughead challenged, his brows arching in suspicion.

Betty sighed.

How could he still know her so well?

"Archie could hate me for this." She admitted.

"Betty..."

"Maybe we shouldn't be doing this." Betty pulled her wrist back, halting them both.

"Hey." Jughead snapped, piercing her with a more intense gaze than she had ever seen. "You're not giving up now, Nancy Drew."

The authoritativeness in his tone sent a shiver down her spine.

"Juggie-"

"No." He argued, holding a hand out. "You're not giving up. Screw what Archie thinks, Betts, you're doing him a favor, and if he's really your friend, then eventually, he'll see that."

Betty stared back at him warily.

"You can't give up."

"Why not?" She demanded.

"Because that's not the Betty Cooper I know."

Her heart ached at his words.

He had no idea how much she longed for that girl too, the girl who defended others against her friends often cruel pranks and actions, the girl who would read and write to her heart's content instead of putting everything off until the last minute because there had been a game, or a party, that as one of the most popular girls in Riverdale High's senior class, she was almost expected to attend, the girl who didn't take Adderall to meet the deadlines she countlessly lost sleep over.

"She's in here somewhere." Betty promised, gesturing to herself.

He didn't break their eye contact.

"Prove it." He ordered.

His tone ignited something in her, and with a tentative smile, Betty took his outstretched hand, their fingers lacing together.

Jughead threw her a grin that had always been reserved for her and her alone.

"Come on." He said, tugging her along behind him.

They crossed the street, hands still intertwined, not looking out of place in the near pitch blackness.

"Jug." A familiar voice whispered.

Toni emerged from the shadows of the opposite direction, a camera strap looped around her neck.

Jughead's grip tightened instinctively.

Betty shot him a wary look but didn't question the girl's presence vocally. Jughead must have asked her to come along for a reason, they were close enough, it seemed. When they moved down the hallway, or when they sat in a booth at Pop's, he would toss an arm across her shoulders, leaving Betty to wonder if the two were more than friends.

Not that it was her place to be jealous, or anything.

"Toni." Jughead greeted, his tone even.

The female Serpent flicked her gaze to their still conjoined hand, a look Betty couldn't quite place flashing in her eyes.

"Toni." He said again, his palm warm against her own. "This is Betty. Betty, Toni."

"Hi." Betty muttered shyly, unsure of what else she could say.

"Hey." Toni responded, sounding friendlier than Betty had imagined she would. "It's nice to meet you... Consciously, this time."

"Toni." Jughead warned, casting a glance to her forehead, the scar suddenly more visible.

"Sorry."

"It's fine." She promised, though the girl's voice still rang on a loop in her brain.

Is that another body?

She hadn't abandoned her intention to find the truth in Toni's words, she was only momentarily distracted, trying to save her best friend from a scandal.

"We should go." Jughead said, nodding in the direction of the sidewalk.

Toni took the lead, the two following along behind her, still gripping one another's hands, unsure of why they had yet to let go.

They walked in silence, Betty stiffening every time a car drove by, or a dog barked somewhere in the background, causing Jughead to pull her a little closer, his grasp tightening a little more. Four blocks later, they arrived at Grundy's shack.

"Ready to go undercover, Nancy... Betty?"

Betty immediately pulled herself free, reaching into her purse as she started towards the woman's ancient car.

"Betty!" Jughead rasped, clutching her arm. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Getting answers." She replied.

She gripped the lock out tool she always kept on her, habitually in her purse from when her father still resided in Riverdale. Jughead raised an eye brow, Toni chuckled, her expression a mixture of amusement and amazement.

"You're actually breaking into Ms. Grundy's car." Jughead mused.

She ignored him, carefully setting to work, inserting the device into the driver's side window. With a flick of her wrist, the door swung open.

"Next you're going to tell me you know how to hotwire." He mumbled.

Betty slipped inside the old Beatle, shooting him a knowing look as she unlocked the passenger's door for him.

"Shit, Betts, seriously?" Jughead demanded. "Toni, keep watch."

He stared at her, his expression unreadable.

"What?" Betty questioned, suddenly growing nervous. He didn't break their eye contact. "Juggie, what?"

"What else don't I know about you?"