"Jughead, please!" Betty pleaded, racing down the stairs after him.
He was struggling to pull on his flannel over the shirt he had borrowed from Betty. "Fuck you! To think, I was going to open up to you! I should've known," Jughead spat as he reached the bottom of the staircase. He tucked his pants and t-shirt under his arm.
"Jughead, I know how it sounded. I swear, I wasn't talking about you," Betty's chin quivered.
"I was stupid enough to believe you once," Jughead said quietly. He slipped on his shoes quickly."See ya," He said, opening the front door.
"Jughead," Betty begged. Tears threatened to spill over. "We were talking about Archie, I swear. I promise!" Her voice cracked. "Please don't go."
Jughead stopped in his tracks, letting the door close towards him as he hesitated in the doorway.
"I wouldn't talk about you that way," Betty said quietly. "This isn't a joke to me."
Jughead turned slowly towards her. "Why would you say Archie's pathetic?"
Betty chewed her lip. "He tried to ask out all three Pussycat's one after another after Veronica turned him down. He tried to make it out like she was the one who was doing - well," Betty sighed. "Anyway, that's the gist of it. I'm sorry you overheard that. Please come upstairs, we can talk some more."
Jughead wordlessly closed the door and slipped off his shoes, following Betty up the stairs.
Betty sat on her bed as Jughead lingered in the doorway.
"Do you... want to keep asking questions? Since we didn't finish?"
Jughead laughed coldly. "Alright, sure, blondie. Tell me, why do you want to fix me so badly?" Clearly, his walls were back up.
"I don't want to fix you, Jughead, you're not broken. I just don't want you to kill yourself."
"Well, you've got forty-five and a half hours to change my mind. Tick-tock." He stepped out of the doorway and crossed his legs, plopping himself on the floor.
"My question?"
Jughead raised an eyebrow.
"Why did you stop talking to me?"
"What are you talking about?" Jughead asked, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.
"In seventh grade. You just stopped talking to me and Kevin and Midge and you barely talked to Archie. Your Dad lost the house and you moved to the trailer park and Archie had to force you to talk to him. And when we tried to talk to you, you just - you refused."
"I didn't refuse, I-"
"You pushed us all away, Jughead!"
"I was twelve years old and my family was falling apart and we lost our house and moved into a trailer park. Plus, I was trying to help take care of Jellybean - it was all I could do to get up and go to school and do my homework, I - I couldn't deal with trying to explain everything to my friends." Jughead said angrily.
Betty nodded slowly. "Okay," She murmured.
"So why does the perfect girl next door want to kill herself?"
Betty blanched at his question.
"Well? You said no question off limits, right?"
"I'm not perfect. Don't call me perfect." Betty curled her fingers towards her palms, making tight fists.
"That's not an answer," Jughead murmured, staring up at the ceiling.
"My sister's pregnant, in high school, and the father of that baby has been murdered. My dad hardly ever comes home at night anymore. I confessed my feelings to someone who didn't feel the same way, and while that is all well and good, he is now trying to date my other best friend. I feel like I'm trying to hold my family together. Half the people I know think of me as perfect so I can't do anything wrong."
Betty took a deep breath. "And the other half bully me - Cheryl Blossom told me I was too fat to join cheerleading last year, Reggie Mantle asked if I was going to join the ranks of my sister and get pregnant in high school, random people I don't even know call our family crazy. There is so much shit going on in my head I can't take it. I don't even know when the last time is that I had a good day. So, no reason to stay is a good reason to go, right?"
"Won't you miss milkshakes and french fries and sunrises?" Jughead asked sarcastically, using Betty's reasoning against her.
"Yeah," Betty said, her voice thick with emotion. She took another deep breath, trying to suppress the feeling that she was about to cry. "You know, for me, it's more like this overwhelming feeling like I'm at a party where I don't know anybody, and I'm exhausted and bored and all I want to do is go home." A tear slipped down Betty's face.
She flicked it away. "Anyway. My turn - what's one thing you've never told anyone?"
"I'm homeless," Jughead murmured.
"What?" Betty asked incredulously.
"Well, I was homeless. My mom left with Jellybean a year or so ago and my dad started drinking more heavily and lost his job with Fred, and eventually I got tired of his shit. So I slept at the Drive-In. But, as you know," Jughead rolled his eyes. "The Drive-In got shut down. So I slept at school for a bit. A few weeks ago I moved back in with my dad, I didn't have any other choice. I've been there since he got arrested, but who knows how long I have til they realize I'm alone..."
"I-I'm really sorry Jughead."
He shrugged.
"Your turn," Betty prompted quietly.
"Same question," Jughead murmured, finally tearing his eyes away from the ceiling to look at her.
Betty didn't say a word, just uncurled her fists and showed Jughead what she had done.
Jughead slowly reached towards her upturned palms. He dropped his hands without touching her.
"I can relate."
"Yeah?" Betty said quietly.
Jughead rolled his long flannel sleeve up towards his elbow. An angry looking red mark was on his forearm. Another one, less fresh but just as painful-looking marked his wrist. "When my dad gets drunk, he gets angry. He takes it out on me a lot."
Betty touched them gently. "Jughead," Betty breathed.
Jughead pulled his arm away.
"I'm sorry," She murmured.
Jughead shook his head. "'S okay. There's lots more where they came from," He chuckled humorlessly. He stood up and pulled the t-shirt up so she could see the burns on his stomach and chest. Some were half-moon shapes, some were full circles, some big and some small.
"What are they from?"
"Cigarettes and cigars. The half circles are from when he threw them and they didn't quite make their mark." He let the shirt fall back in place.
"Okay," Betty said, standing up. "Why don't we stop the questions for a while? I could make a late dinner? Or order a pizza."
"Pizza sounds good."
"What do you like on your pizza?"
"Anything except pineapple."
"I thought you ate anything?" Betty cocked an eyebrow.
"I'd eat it, sure, but that doesn't mean I like it." Jughead smirked.
"So what would you like on the pizza?"
"Pepperoni, green olives, onions and mushrooms is my favorite, but most people don't like ol-"
"No mushrooms and I'm sold." Betty smiled.
"Deal," Jughead murmured.
Jughead took the last bite of his crust and rubbed his stomach. "That was amazing. What now?"
"I have an idea," Betty smiled. "We both pick one of our favorite movies that we don't think the other has ever seen. What do you think?"
Jughead nodded. "Okay. Let me think." He crossed his legs. "Have you ever seen Murder by Death?"
Betty smirked. "No, I've never even heard of it."
"That's my pick."
"Have you ever seen An Affair to Remember?"
Jughead smiled. "I have, I love that movie."
"You do not," Betty laughed.
"I do! I have a soft spot for old romantic movies."
"Okay, what about The Notebook?"
"Oh, no, no, I said old romantic movies. Not this new wave of Nicholas Sparks rom-com bullshit."
"So, you've never seen it?"
"No."
"Then that's my pick."
Jughead groaned.
The two of them were on Betty's bed, the only light in the room the glow from the TV. The end credits rolling for Murder by Death.
"What did you think?" Jughead asked, straightening his legs, stretching.
"It was really, really good actually. I love Alec Guinness. I didn't really understand the end, though." Betty admitted.
Jughead explained it, his whole face beaming.
"I'll have to watch it again," Betty laughed.
"We could watch it instead of The Notebook," Jughead laughed, cocking his eyebrow.
"No way," Betty smiled, scooting off the bed to put her well-used DVD into the machine.
By the time Allie and Noah were lying together in the street, Jughead was hooked. There was a smile playing on his lips.
Betty leaned back against her pillow, next to Jughead. Her eyelids felt heavy.
Jughead felt the warmth of her body against him, but couldn't tear his eyes away from the screen - as much as he was going to hate to admit it, he was really into the movie - plus, her bed was small, not much space for her to move without touching him.
As the end credits rolled, Jughead had to bite his lip to keep the tears from slipping out.
"Wow, okay, I was wrong. That was good." Jughead stared at the screen in front of him. "What, no 'I told you so'?" Jughead looked down at the tiny body next to him.
Betty was fast asleep, her head resting against his shoulder, even breaths making her shoulders rise and fall. She had a fistful of his shirt.
"Oh," Jughead breathed. He couldn't help but notice how beautiful she looked.
He carefully, slowly, reached for the remote for the TV and turned it off, leaving them in complete darkness. He rested his head gently against hers, not wanting to wake her.
His heart was hammering in his chest, making it impossible for him to fall asleep. After a moment, he felt her stir, her hand reaching out against his abdomen to pull him closer to her. Her fingers lingered on his side as her breathing returned to the rhythmic pace it had been a moment ago.
Jughead felt all the feelings he had tried to pacify for years racing back up to the surface.