An hour after sunset, sitting in a booth at Pop's, leaning into my man's leather-clad side while polishing off the basket of fries on the table. That was my vision of what heaven looked like. It didn't include the bruises on his face. But I could work with that. This time, Sweet Pea sat by the window and I sat closest to the exit, but our backs faced the entrance again. At this point, I didn't really care who saw us together. I was on a high and I wasn't coming down any time soon.

The bell above the door ringing wasn't concerning. Not until movement out of my right eye caught my attention, causing me to glance up. My eyes landed on Jughead. And I inwardly cringed. "Jug? What are you doing here?" I asked, genuinely surprised. "I thought you'd be helping find Polly."

His eyes were flickering between Sweet Pea and I as he replied, shortly, "I was. Then I walked Betty home. Mind if I sit?"

I gestured out a hand, motioning for him to go ahead. But I didn't know what I was doing. This had a high potential for failure, though I tried to keep an open mind. Jughead slid into the booth seat opposite us, and I felt Sweet Pea's arm around my middle tighten, tensing. I tried to ignore it, looking across the table at Jughead. "Why are you here, Jughead?" I asked.

"Looking for you. Ben's back—don't worry, he thinks you're at a study group," Jughead answered. He sat back in the booth, his eyes moving over to Sweet Pea, then back to me. "I see what you mean now when you said 'boyfriend stuff' and 'emergency' in the same sentence. At least tell me he looks better than the other guy."

"Who is this punk?" Sweet Pea asked, looking down at me.

His tone was bitter, ticked off. I wouldn't have expected anything less. I sighed heavily. "Jughead, this is Sweet Pea. Sweet Pea, this is Jughead. Best friend meet boyfriend," I gestured between them with my hand a little, though my voice was mostly dreadful.

"Sweet Pea?" Jughead's eyebrows popped, biting his bottom lip.

"You think Jughead sounds better?" Sweet Pea countered, with narrowed eyes, leaning forward in the booth an inch.

My left hand instantly pressed to the center of Sweet Pea's chest, holding him back from moving any closer. "Pea, don't," I warned, a bit light-heartedly. His eyes swept my way as he began leaning back, catching mine, and he sighed heavily as he settled against the back board. I turned my eyes to Jughead. "Is there a reason why you're looking for me?"

"Yeah—I was worried. You said you'd be home tonight and you weren't. You're lucky I lied for you, or else it would've been Ben that walked in that door," Jughead answered, his demeanor calmed.

I exhaled, "Thank you, Jug. You won't have to lie for me again. I'll be there in an hour, okay?"

He was reluctant, his eyes shifting to the right, glancing over Sweet Pea again. "Fine. Just...be careful, alright?"

I could feel Sweet Pea glaring at Jughead beside me. It was a heat that radiated off him in steady waves. It honestly didn't surprise me he felt threatened by Jughead. I just wished that he didn't. There was no reason to be. My feelings for Jughead hadn't been romantic since the third grade. There was no need to worry there—because they weren't coming back.

Jughead got up from the booth only after I had nodded. His eyes remained on Sweet Pea as he passed, and Sweet Pea didn't let up either. It was like some kind of macho man stare down until Jughead was out of sight, out the door. As soon as he was gone, there was an icy cool that settled in. It was calm. It was normalcy returning to our booth. I leaned back against Sweet Pea's arm, tipping my head back as I looked up at him. "You know I'm yours right?" I asked, rhetorically, with a small smile. "You don't have to fight anyone for my hand."

"Please. I'm fighting for all of you," he said, melting my heart a bit with the small smirk that spread across his lips.

"Aw, Sweets, you're gonna make me blush," I said, mildly sarcastic. It caused his smirk to turn into a full-on smile, teeth and all. "Wanna feel like a man, give me a ride home?"

"You say that like I'd let you walk."

I hummed a little as he leaned in, and I rose up to meet his lips halfway. Our mouths tangled openly, deeply, letting everything blend together into one. Deep kisses that made my knees weak were becoming a trend. But there was no way I was letting it stop any time soon.

I'd been minding my own business. I had no idea what i'd done to deserve it so early in the morning, standing at my locker. But Veronica dropped her left side into the locker beside mine, causing a loud sound. "Veronica," I rolled back on my heels, closing my eyes as the head ache from the sound rolled in between my ears. "To what do I owe this...pleasure?"

"I'm going clubbing tonight with some friends," she answered. "I've got Kevin, Josie, Reggie—all I need is you."

My eyebrows popped as my hands resumed stuffing my book into my locker. "Me? Why?"

I'd sounded almost disgusted. But I was actually just really confused. Veronica sighed, turning to rest her back against the locker as she crossed her arms. "You're the perfect example of good girl gone bad, and Archie might have mentioned that you were a good dancer. I need both," she answered, only her head facing me now.

It wasn't something I would've been caught dead doing just weeks ago. But I was more tempted to say yes than I would've cared to admit. What could I say? I was naive. I thought I could slay my demons and forget where I buried them. I wouldn't find out how wrong I was for a while yet. Right then, in that moment, I agreed. Yes, I danced. Not like The Nutcracker—more like Step Up. Ballet was too slow, too tedious. I needed a beat.

I needed a rhythm I could move with that was fast enough to make my heart race. When I got home after school, my closet was my first stop. I'd been digging through the hanging clothes for a solid five minutes before searching through my drawers. I'd tossed options out onto the bed—most falling short and hitting the floor by the chest—as I found them. "Why don't you just wear your usual?" Jughead questioned, typing on his laptop, sitting across the love seat.

My groan of frustration sounded more like a growl. "I don't need Amy Grant, Jug—I need Gwen Stefani."

"Just don't go full Christina Aguilera, alright?" he said, sarcasm evident in his tone. "Please. It is a school night, after all."

"What about this? Too slutty?"

I stepped out of the closet, holding up a red top in front of my body. Jughead glanced over, did a bit of a double take, and cringed. His right eye narrowed as he gave a nod, clearly holding back other unkind words, "Yeah, just a little bit."

"Fine. The black one, then?" I asked, snatching my black top from the floor. I stood upright with it, dropping the red one to hold the black one up to my body. It was a black, long-sleeved crop top with silver sequins covering just the torso. Jughead eyed it for a second. I could tell he wasn't impressed with either option. But he exhaled, shrugging up a shoulder. "Lesser of two evils I guess," he agreed. "Are you sure you want to go this hardcore?"

I pulled my shirt over my head as I replied, "How often do I go clubbing, Jug? Never. I can dress to the nine's just for tonight."

Jughead turned back to his computer as I tugged the crop top on. It ended halfway to my navel. The black denim shorts I picked out were hiphuggers, with rhinestones along the top seams of the pockets. Those shorts actually fit me, considering I only bought them a year ago. Ben never knew, of course. It was my guilty pleasure—buying things South side Diana would wear, knowing full well North side Diana couldn't be seen in public with them.

It'd become a bit of a habit. But I got a lot of interesting clothes out of it. After I put on my outfit, I moved to the bathroom to adjust my makeup. Gold glitter eye shadow and dark orchid lips. "Diana—phone," Jughead called after a moment, from the bedroom.

"Thanks."

I pattered back to the bedroom, straight to the nightstand where i'd left my phone. I'd dropped onto the bed and nabbed the device. Jughead folded away his laptop and began getting up, pulling my eyes from my string of snake emoji messages. "Going to Pop's?" I asked, rhetorically, as my eyes shifted down to my phone.

I hadn't meant to sound so disinterested. But I guessed it was just the person—or people—he was meeting at Pop's that caused the slip. Jughead sighed. "About that. Dad said you two weren't talking," he said, dropping onto the bed beside me. "He wouldn't really say why..."

With it being my turn to sigh, I looked up at him from my phone. "Jughead, FP and I...we don't exactly see eye-to-eye anymore. We just kind of figured that out."

"Why? Did something happen?" he asked, curiously.

"He told Sweet Pea to stay away from me—and it worked, until I called him out. I don't know, I mean...he's still like family. I just used to idolize him and suddenly he's not worth it anymore," I shrugged a little, not knowing what else to do.

Jughead nodded, with a momentary expression of understanding. "I know what you mean," he said, standing. "Well, don't bring the sexy back too hard."

He started around the bed toward the door, and I chuckle. I twisted to see him, "How can you bring it back if you never lost it?"

All I got was a smirk and an eyeroll before he left the bedroom. He was going to Pop's to have dinner with FP, Archie, and Archie's dad. Supposedly, in the two days since he called me about Sweet Pea, FP had started working at Andrews Construction. Trying to 'get his life back together', to quote Jughead. It was a long shot. Especially if the state of his trailer was any indication of how his life was going already. But Jughead seemed hopeful, so I kept my comments to myself.

As according to plan, I met Veronica and the posse at the nightclub just after eight. I'd already told Ben I was going to my study group earlier in the day. Thankfully he was too busy in the kitchen with Cash to notice my outfit when I left. "Hey, night owls," I greeted, walking up to the group waiting for me by the door, my heeled ankle boots making an odd sound on the pavement.

"Hey- wow, nice outfit," Veronica complimented, her eyes scanning my clothes.

Kevin looked baffled. "Is that glitter in your eye shadow?!"

"Yep," I jutted my chin in a nod. "Read it and weep, Keller."

"Alright, who's ready to get their freak on?" Reggie asked, rhetorically.

He was all too excited to get inside the club. But Veronica and Josie cheered as they started for the door, Reggie following close behind, while I practically dragged Kevin along with me behind all of them. He was still drooling over my eyes. He even reached a hand up to touch my right eyelid and I swatted at him, chuckling as we made it inside. "Not fair, Diana," he shook his head, making a pouty face as he shook his head.

I popped an eyebrow. "Mamma came to win. Twenty bucks says I'll get a guy to dance with me faster than you will."

"Oh, it is on," he held out his hand, and I shook it. "You're going down hard."

Humming, I turned to face the group. Veronica piped up with, "Who wants to get some drinks?" before walking toward the bar. The booming music and bright light beams were something enchanting. Especially when you add alcohol to your system before shoving yourself into the crowd. I'd made the bet with Kevin, but I honestly hadn't intended to actually win it. Just the thrill of dancing in the club was enough to make me come alive.

It felt like someone had put pure caffeine into my drink, but it was just a cocktail. I was dancing, sandwiched between Josie and Veronica, like it was the last day we had on Earth. It felt so good to sway my hips, flip my hair, twirl around to the bass, and sing along like it was karaoke night and I was covering Whitesnake. After a little bit, us girls split up. My hips seemed to be detached from my body, swirling at their own pace, with my hands above my head.

With my eyes having been blissfully closed, I hadn't seen it. But Josie's voice caused me to open them. "Hey, looks like you've got an admirer," she said, insinuatively. And I snickered, seeing what she was seeing. There was a guy watching me—a few guys, actually. Not too far away, all hanging around together. I shook my head, turning to see Josie. "They can look, but they can't touch," I replied, before spinning through the sound of her giggles.

It was not something I was interested in, dancing with someone like that. Dancing without a care knowing they were watching wasn't what I should've done. But I didn't know then. All I knew was that it felt good to be wanted. It was a boost to my ego, to my pride. Reggie was all over Veronica. Kevin was doing some kind of weird eighties dance. Josie was dancing near Kevin. And I went to get another drink. Alone, I wormed through the crowd.

I elbowed my way to the bar and asked for another cocktail. That's when tall, blonde, and pervy stepped up to the bar beside me, leaning into it on his left side. "Put it on mine," he told the bartender, loud enough to be heard over the music. He looked like he was at least twenty-five—if not older. With sandy hair in short, tight curls against the top of his head and piercingly blue eyes. "Thanks," I said, with a small, polite smile.

"It's my pleasure," he smiled, before holding out his hand. "I'm Dustin."

"Diana," I replied, hesitantly shaking his hand.

I'd had no interest in sparking up a conversation. But I guessed that coming to a club was asking for it. Why couldn't a woman go to a club to dance? Why was it always assumed she was there for sex? It was a night of freedom and revenge. I didn't care much for a sixth wheel.

"Wow, that's a beautiful name," he chuckled a little. It was almost like he couldn't find anywhere else for his eyes other than my face, and it was starting to annoy me. "You're a great dancer, by the way."

I bobbed my head a bit, before glancing over at the bartender, still waiting for my drink—it was the only reason I stayed. "I take it you've never seen a woman dance before, then?"

"I'm sorry?" he looked genuinely confused.

"Oh, my bad. That line usually works, doesn't it? Whoops."

I scrunched up my nose in a faux apology, just as the bartender finished my drink. I shrugged as I grabbed my drink and then headed back toward the dance floor. They were playing The Chainsmokers and it felt like i'd successfully dodged a bullet, finding happiness buried in the lyrics of Closer. I was done with my drink by the time Death of A Bachelor came on, and I was back to dancing crazily, freely.

It seemed Kevin had attracted the attention of another guy, and it seemed apparent that i'd lost the bet. About the time Cake By The Ocean started, the gang decided to take a break. So we gathered another round of drinks and literally collapsed into a booth. "Mm-mm, drink up girl," Josie told Veronica. "You practically left your body on the dance floor."

"Ugh, I wish, Josie. I wish I could leave my body sometimes. Leave Riverdale, leave everything. What about you, Diana?" Veronica looked to me, sitting in between her and Reggie.

"Do I wanna leave Riverdale? Who doesn't?" I asked, rhetorically.

As I took a drink, Veronica added, "What's your story, anyway? I don't even really know anything about you."

"What's there to know? She lives in nearly the most expensive house in the neighborhood, she's leader of the Polo team, was the most envied girl in all of Riverdale High for reserving Archie Andrews, and her sister is the most adorable human being on the planet," Kevin dramatized, listing out a few of my North side achievements.

His sensationalized version of me caused everyone to share a good laugh. Sitting up with a light sigh, I set the record straight, telling Veronica actual facts about myself. "I'm adopted—so the money's not actually mine—and I moved to the North side when I was fourteen," I said, fighting the urge to dance to the faint echo of the music. "I love Eminem, crop tops, and bedazzled shorts."

Veronica chuckled at the last thing I listed. "You sound really boring, D," Reggie pointed out.

Instead of throwing my drink into his face like i'd wanted to, I took the coward's route and shoved the side of his head. It was clear Reggie was just about drunk anyway so it didn't really matter. He wouldn't remember it tomorrow, anyway. Once Veronica's mom reported Veronica's credit card stolen, the gang decided to call it a night. I was already going home covered in sweat and smelling like alcohol. Might as well creep in at three o'clock in the morning, too.

At least, that's what I tried to do. I tried to be stealthy and climb in through my bedroom window. But I slipped, I fell forward, and landed right on top of Jughead. Jughead shot up in a startle. We tumbled off the side of the love seat in a tangle of limbs. We hit the hard floor with a solid thud. "Oh my- Diana!" Jughead practically shrieked, as I squinted to see him in the dark. "Why are you coming in so late?"

"I was clubbing, remember? Nightclubs usually open at night," I said, keeping my voice down.

I pushed myself up to my feet with the help of the chest at the end of my bed. Jughead groaned, climbing back on top of the love seat. I stumbled through the dark to my closet and flicked on the light. My pajamas were usually shorts and a t-shirt. But instead, that night I just settled for an over-sized t-shirt and my good old underwear. It'd felt like I was living Katy Perry's Last Friday Night music video when Jughead shook me awake in the morning.

I'd just dropped on top of my bed, not even bothering to get below the covers. But sometime while I slept Jughead had draped his blanket over me. "What time is it?" I groaned, rubbing my eyes as I rolled onto my back. "Don't tell me I slept in and missed first period."

"Yeah, you wish. You're only twenty minutes behind," Jughead said.

Sighing heavily, I pushed myself up into a sitting position. "Last night...well, it was awesome. But it was a bad idea, Juggie."

"That's what you get for going full Christina Aguilera," he smirked at his sarcasm. "This is when I'd laugh in your face and say I told you so. Because I kind of did."

I grabbed my pillow from behind me and swung it at him, "O-kay! Get off your high horse."

He'd stepped back to miss the pillow, and used it as momentum to start walking toward the door. "Right. Horses are your thing," he smiled, before leaving the bedroom. That wasn't the last time I saw Jughead Jones smile that day. It was just the most memorable one, before Sheriff Keller made his stupidest mistake yet.