I carried my tray to the lunch table and dropped into the space to the right of Betty, coming into the conversation a bit late—but just late enough to hear the stupidest thing I had ever heard come out of Betty Cooper's mouth. "We should throw him one. Like a low-key surprise party," she said, smiling brightly.

My eyes had moved up from my plate as she said the last word, and they landed right on Archie's. We both seemed to have the same panicked expressions. I spoke up first. "No," I said, looking to Betty seriously. "Jughead doesn't do anything for his birthday for a reason—he doesn't like it. Why on earth would he like a surprise party?"

"Ignore the negativity," Veronica all but rolled her eyes beside me. She leaned forward to see around me spitefully, and my expression could only be described as a question—excuse you? "Betty, you know me, any excuse to wear a cute party dress. Okay, so I'm thinking a quaint gathering. Inner circle only."

I cleared my throat pointedly, narrowing my eyes at the raven-haired demon beside me momentarily. "You guys have fun. But I'm gonna sit this one out."

"What? But you and Jughead are so close. It wouldn't be perfect without you," Betty pointed out. She looked slightly saddened at my declaration, turning toward me with a titled head and pouty expression. As if that was enough to sway me to the so-called dark side. But I sighed, responding the only way I knew how—honestly.

"Jughead is going to hate this, and I won't be apart of disrespecting his wishes by throwing a party with a group of people that—obviously—don't know him at all."

With a sting settling into the silence that followed my words, I promptly stood up from the table, and took my tray elsewhere. No one was interested enough to try and stop me, but maybe that was because I'd made it impossible? I didn't want them to stop me. Because I knew I was right. For a long time, it was Jughead, Archie, and I going to the Bijou for a double feature. That was the only thing Jughead wanted to do for his birthday.

It wasn't hard to respect that, considering my birthday woes. Jughead was like my brother. I couldn't participate in doing something I knew would only frustrate him and not bring him anything else on his birthday. With Jughead's birthday always on the weekend following mine, we'd usually just eat leftover cake at three o'clock in the morning watching old Star Trek episodes on my bed. I'd been halfway to my locker from the lunch hall when Archie caught up to me.

"Diana!" he'd called, a few feet behind. Then, a hand on my shoulder, he said, "Hey- Diana. Look, I know Jughead doesn't like his birthday. But I think this would be good for all of us."

I snorted, shrugging away from his hand, "Why? Because you ruined yet another perfectly good relationship for stupid reasons?"

His shoulders dropped as he sighed, giving me a look. But I couldn't help it. Did he really think word didn't get around? I'd known about his relationship with Valerie for a while. It was fine, seeing him moving on. After all, wasn't that what I was doing with Sweet Pea? But Val came to me earlier this week. She asked about Archie, what our relationship had been like. And that's when I knew she was really asking if she should break up with him.

It would seem that she did, considering they'd been avoiding each other for a couple days. "I get it, you want to help do something nice for him," I said, slightly changing the subject from his love life, because, frankly, I didn't care. "But this isn't it. He's going to be really unhappy about it, and I don't wanna be the one he's mad at."

"Yeah...well, I guess you always did know him better than I did," he hung his head a little as he walked, eyes downcast in thought.

"That's because we're like family. We literally grew up together. Slumber parties? Forget it. It was a sleep over week. Can't find me? Check Jughead's trailer. Can't find Jughead? Check my house. We shared everything—clothes, toys, food, books, secrets. Sometimes even parents," I smiled softly at the memory the explanation brought to me. "I would happily die for Jughead Jones."

Archie smiled, "Think he'd do the same?"

It was obviously rhetorical. So I only jutted my chin in a nod, refraining from using condescending sarcastic comments. "I know he would," I answered, surely. "We're ride or die. And a surprise birthday party is the moment when I do the Charlie's Angels roll from the car and ride with Jughead. Sorry."

Knowing what the group was planning in advance made it difficult to be around Jughead and not say anything. Maybe this was the year Jughead actually liked celebrating his birthday because he had his friends? I would give it a chance, but I knew it would most likely back fire rather sharply. The plan was still to go to the Bijou with Jughead. But Betty had other ideas. She'd wanted to take him instead, so that the others could get Archie's house ready for the party.

It wasn't something I liked the idea of, missing this honored tradition. Betty, Jughead, and I stood around the island in my kitchen. The first feature started in thirty minutes and Betty was here to get Jughead. But Jughead couldn't understand why I couldn't go with them. "I'd be the awkward third wheel," I tried to explain. "I'm not third wheel material, Jug."

"Why can't you just get your boyfriend to come with us?" he asked, desperate at this point.

I knew he had to be incredibly desperate to bring Sweet Pea into this. Even if it wasn't what he wanted, he knew involving him would get me involved, and I'd guessed that was worth it to him. Betty's eyebrows rose up on her forehead at that, her eyes moving to me, "Boyfriend?"

"You want me to bring a six-five, leather-wearing biker to a movie theater for a double feature with my anti-social best friend and his Malibu Barbie girlfriend?" I ignored Betty, asking my question rhetorically. It sounded ridiculous. But Jughead's eyes were pleading.

He titled his head, "Come on, Diana. We always go together. It's not the same if you're not there to eat all my M&Ms."

My eyes moved to Betty's as I sighed. It was a silent ask for help. A begging for solution. She shrugged her shoulders, a little reluctant to speak. "If you don't want to feel like a third wheel...you can bring your boyfriend," she said, speaking lightly. Nodding her head in encouragement, even though I could tell she was nervous about it. "It can be like a kind of double date, then. I guess."

With a heavy sigh, I pulled my cell phone from my pocket. "Fine. But only because I love M&Ms, Juggie."

Jughead's slightly pouty lips perked up, curving into a smile as he chuckled once. It was astonishing—the change one word could make on a teenage boy's face. How drastically emotions contorted one's features when it involved someone they cared for. I'd known it was only me that made that change. But I'd chosen to ignore it, deep down. And I wished I hadn't. I wouldn't know just how much that one moment brought me closer to the moment my life ended.

I wouldn't know for a while yet. No one would. Because I'd kept that bit to myself. I'd texted Sweet Pea and asked him to meet me at the Bijou. Of course, I'd told him the details. I had to. We texted back and forth on the walk there—the whole time me telling him why this was so important. That I couldn't go without him. That I'd be in an incredibly awkward situation for roughly four hours with my best friend and his girlfriend, sitting there all alone—seemingly by myself.

He caved halfway there, and he was already parked out front when the three of us arrived. I could sense the hesitation in Betty as we approached. Getting closer to Sweet Pea, waiting, sitting on his motorcycle. Betty was holding onto Jughead's arm, walking in between us. The anxiety radiated off her in waves. I glanced at her and gave her a small nod. She seemed to understand what it meant, but it didn't look to change how she felt.

I walked a little faster, walking ahead of the others, heading straight for Sweet Pea. He stood to his full height when I neared him, hands in his hoodie's pockets. "This is going to be more awkward with me here. I hope you know that," he said, as I stopped I foot from him.

My arms slid around his torso, inside the open folds of his hoodie, and I sighed. "That's the spirit," I tilted my head back to look up at him, smiling loosely. He pulled his arms from his pockets and put them around my shoulders in one fluid motion. "Just be cool. You're here for me—not them. They'll probably ignore both of us the whole time. It'll be great. Come on."

My feet shuffled back and to the side a step, sliding my hand in his before giving it a tug as I started taking slow steps toward Jughead and Betty. They were waiting more near the door. Betty still didn't seem all too thrilled about this idea after all, but she smiled regardless. Probably more for Jughead than anything else. As we got within three feet of them, I spoke up. "Betty, this is my boyfriend Sweet Pea," I introduced, pulling him over to stand beside me. "Pea, this is Jughead's girlfriend—Betty Cooper."

"Hi. It's nice to meet you," Betty said, politely.

Sweet Pea wasn't wearing any Serpent logos, but his neck tattoo was always visible. Maybe that was what made her seem to nervous when spoke? Or it could've been the intimidating height difference, his constant ready to fight expression, his muscles—pretty much everything else. He narrowed his eyes, "Cooper? Like Alice Cooper, that crazy North sider that writes the Register?"

My fingers tightened around his as I quickly glanced up at him, giving a shake of my head, "Sweets. Not here."

"Maybe we should get inside? Seats usually fill up fast on the weekends," Jughead suggested.

He was trying to calmly move us along, as to avoid any further comments. I'd agreed with him. But Betty looked even more uncomfortable than before, even a little offended, staring in shock at Sweet Pea's comment even as Jughead was pulling her along into the building with him. It was another awkward wrench thrown into the machine. We pressed on, getting our tickets and concessions, and finding an empty row of seats to claim.

Jughead's previous comment had been completely false. The Bijou definitely had its empty nights when hardly anyone walked by, let alone went in. Most of the seats were available when we got into the theater. Betty went into the row first, followed by Jughead—putting two people in between her and Sweet Pea. It was the best course of action considering all the things that could go wrong. It was so easy, so casual for Sweet Pea to drape his arm around me.

I'd even leaned into his side, that being the most comfortable option. But I'd never noticed how instinctual it was. How it was normal to lock my fingers with his, the hand draped off my left shoulder. Jughead and Betty looked just as cozy, turned toward each other in their seats, sharing a popcorn bucket. I lifted my leg, nudging the tip of my sneaker into Jughead's knee. He turned his head my way with a raised brow—his smile from looking at Betty still lingering. "Yeah?"

"Lemme know when you need to jump into someone's arms," I teased, hushing my voice sarcastically.

He snorted, rolling his eyes playfully, "Sweet Pea's probably the better option, if we're going for safety here."

"Okay, you can have him. Betty and I will move down a row to give you guys some space to run scared," I smirked.

Jughead turned toward me more, his eyebrows rising together in humorous disbelief, just as the lights were dimming. "Oh, is this a challenge? Are you challenging me?" he asked, rhetorically. "If that's how it's gonna be—ten bucks says you don't make it to the end credits."

With the movie starting, I only mouthed my next words—you're on. As I settled into my seat, my shoulder against Sweet Pea's chest, he leaned his head down close to my ear. "Something tells me you've seen this movie before," he whispered.

I titled my head back to answer, eyes not leaving the screen, "Only a couple times."

"Uh-huh."

He sounded skeptical. But it was that playful, flirtatious skeptical that kept my lips tight in a grin for the rest of the movie. As it happened, I did not run scared. Nor did Jughead. Betty was the only making any kind of startles or jerks at intense scenes. We called it a draw, leaving the double feature early. Betty deemed it a necessary evil, something needed for a trip to Archie's. It was a lame excuse, but I was only half listening.

I'd been deeply discussing the realistic aspects of being a werewolf anywhere—not just in London. Sweet Pea was the one that started the conversation. But I took it a little too seriously, delving into details such as what if you have to go to the bathroom? Do you go outside like a dog or inside like a man?, If you're pregnant, do you have babies or puppies?, do werewolves smell other werewolves' butts to say hello?, and finally, if you ate dog food would you think it tasted good?

They were logical arguments in my mind. But it was a conversation I would normally have with Jughead. So it surprised me when Sweet Pea had an answer for everything. Coming back with insightful solutions to each proposed problem. "I've never met a werewolf so I can't say for sure, but my best guess is that you act normal in human form," he said, as we followed Jughead and Betty out of the theater, his arm around my shoulders lazily. "You'd probably never have puppies because that really wouldn't make sense. But, then again, it could depend on what mythology you're basing it off."

It was entirely unexpected that he'd be entertaining this discussion. But he seemed genuinely interested in it, and it made me feel like what I was saying was important. I was talking about fake half-man, half-dog creatures that probably did smell each other's butts to say hello. And yet it felt like I was talking about something big like global warming. It was disappointing that we had to split up. But it would not be a good idea to bring him to the surprise party.

Not a good idea at all, for everyone's sake. He started up his bike as I stood just a foot away, hands in my pockets, forcing my smile to stay present even in the sadness of his departure. "I'll call you later?" I'd said it like a question, but it really wasn't supposed to be one at all.

He turned his head to look at me, a smirk playing at his lips. "Not too late."

"What, you got a bed time now?" I teased, narrowing my eyes, to which he snorted, tossing his. "We could change it up tonight. Instead of going out, we stay in? My place? I've got two full seasons of I Love Lucy and two more days before Ben gets back to Riverdale."

"Sounds like a plan. I'll be there at midnight."

He reached out, gripping the hips of my jeans, and gave the fabric a tug. My feet shuffled forward and my lips curved into a grin before meeting his. Jughead looked like he'd probably just finished rolling his eyes when I finally walked to him and Betty, where they waited just down the sidewalk. Betty looked like she was fighting a smile, averting her eyes as I arrived. We started walking, the three of us in a little trio, and it wasn't long before someone spoke.

I hadn't expected it to be Betty, or the sudden interest in her question. "How long have you two been together?" she asked me, leaning forward to see around Jughead. It was a staggering question. Because I'd expected to say it was a lot longer than it actually was. Truly, we'd only been together a short time. But it'd felt like years.

Inhaling, I answered, "Three months."

"You guys are really sweet," she commented, smiling kindly at me. "Like you should be a Nicholas Sparks movie."

"So, what you're saying is—you totally ship it?" Jughead smirked at her.

She chuckled a little. "Yes. I ship it."

The conversation had soon changed from her support of my relationship to something completely unrelated, mostly just to pass the time. Betty texted them when we'd been on our way. But we were at the house faster than I'd expected. My chest felt tight. It was anxiety, worry. This had so much potential to end badly. My plan had been to go home after we got to Archie's—just keep walking down the street until I got to mine.

But a part of me wanted to stay, just in case it actually went well. So I did. I entered the house last, after the group had already shouted happy birthday while flipping on the lights. "So this is why we left the double feature," Jughead said, a hint of dread to his tone despite the loose smile on his face. Archie came over to say happy birthday as I closed the door, hanging my jacket on the hook beside it.

My feet slowed their pace into the living room, eyebrow rising on my forehead, as I caught the tale end of Jughead's words when Archie pulled away from their bro hug. "Are you drunk?" Jughead asked, in disbelief. Archie quickly shook his head, downplaying it, but it honestly wouldn't have surprised me if he'd said yes. Veronica said something to Jughead in Spanish that I was pretty sure no one understood—so at least it wasn't just me.

"Oh, it's Kevin," Jughead sarcastically remarked, a bit under his breath, as Kevin swooped in for a hug.

"Happy birthday, man," Kevin said, before stepping back.

There was no denying that Jughead looked uncomfortable. He glanced around a bit. "Um, has anyone seen Betty?" he asked. Suddenly the lights dimmed out, just as Betty rounded the corner from the kitchen straight ahead. She was holding a cake full of lit candles, singing a slow and somewhat sultry rendition of the birthday song as she came closer. When she finished, she gave Jughead the cake, and told him to make a wish.

Given that I stood closer to Kevin and Joaquin than Betty, I hadn't heard what Jughead whispered in her ear before he blew out the candles. "One blow!" Kevin said. "Alright!" Jughead's eyes shifted over to mine in a straight line. There was a certain anxiety to them, an unspeakable sense of fight or flight, that I recognized. He wasn't okay with this. Not in the slightest. But he was trying, trying so hard to act like he was. Probably just for Betty's sake.

Veronica disappeared into the kitchen, and Archie aimlessly followed after her. I'd tried to give Jughead a look of reassurance. Or a look of this isn't my fault, I told them not to but they did it anyway. I wasn't so sure it came across as I'd planned, though. Betty and Jughead went into the kitchen to cut the cake and get ice cream. As they left the living room, I held out my hand to the only person in the room I didn't recognize.

"I'm Diana," I introduced myself. "Birthday-boy's honorary big sister."

She immediately shook my hand, smiling politely. "I'm Ethel, Veronica's friend."

"Nice to meet you," I smiled back, letting go of her hand.

"Likewise."

She nodded in agreement. The guest list seemed very odd-ball. And it wasn't very inner circle as Veronica had previously mentioned. On an exhale, I excused myself, and went to the kitchen. But, two steps in, I realized i'd walked into an argument between Betty and Jughead. From what I could tell, it was about the choice in birthday plans. So I stayed back, staying out of the way.

"Why is everything so doom and gloom with you, Jug?" Betty asked. "Why can't it just be normal for once?"

"I'm not normal. I'm not wired to be normal," Jughead quickly defended.

It was literally saved by the bell. The doorbell rang out across the house, and Archie went to answer it. "How many more people did you invite to this thing?" Jughead questioned Betty, accusingly. He was clearly not impressed, and she was starting to get what I'd been telling her all along.

"No one!" she immediately answered. "Inner circle only."

I sighed, nearly rolling my eyes as I followed Jughead to the door. You could hear the music booming in through the walls before the door was even opened. But, when it did, Cheryl walked in. Along with football players carrying kegs, with a large crowd on the porch. "Did you really think you could have a party without inviting moi?"