Betty paced the interior of her frilly, flowery bedroom, and thought about how she'd wanted to redecorate it this summer. Nothing too edgy, but maybe not so much freaking pink, something a little more like what a woman's bedroom instead of a little girl's. But Alice wouldn't hear of it. She wanted Betty to stay young and innocent forever, and by making her keep her childhood quilt on her bed, she thought somehow would also keep Betty just like she was when she was eight. Little did Alice know what very mature things she and Jughead had done on that lacy, pink blanket.

It had been less than twenty-four hours since Polly had taken a cab away from Veronica's and to the Blossoms' estate. How could Polly have left her? Again. Having Polly move into the Blossom's was like losing her sister all over again. It hurt worse because she had just got her back. Their family wasn't as perfect as everyone in Riverdale thought, but they always stuck together. At least until her parents had ripped the family apart when they sent Polly away. Betty was afraid that after all of this, her family would never be able to meld back together again.

All her life, Polly had been the favorite daughter, favorite student, favorite River Vixon. Betty was forever referred to, not as Betty Cooper, but always as Polly's sister. She didn't mind it, though. She loved Polly with an adoration that only a little sister could. She had desperately wanted Polly back, and was excited for the prospect of having her in the house again. It had been so lonely this summer without Polly. Nothing had been right with the family since Polly left, and now that her dad was gone, too, Betty wasn't sure her house would ever feel like a home again.

Betty peaked out her curtains to the Andrews's house. All the lights were still off. No one was home. She'd seen Archie and his dad leave a while ago in Fred's truck. Jughead had told her a little bit about the fight he and Archie had gotten into the other day. She knew Archie was jealous of them, but she had no idea why. Archie didn't see her that way. If he had, he would have made a move years ago. All it took for Jughead was to spend a few late evenings with her at The Blue and Gold and he kissed her. And changed everything. Archie had had a lifetime, and he missed his chance with her.

Jughead had told her he was job hunting this afternoon and would be busy, but it was after nightfall now, and she hadn't heard from him. There had been no new leads or evidence in the murder investigation since Jughead had been taken into questioning. That meant Jughead was still under suspicion and the killer was still out there. Both made Betty nervous. No one else in Riverdale had died, so the killer probably wasn't of the serial variety, but she and Jughead had openly been snooping around, and killers usually didn't like that. That's why she was walking back and forth, back and forth, wearing a tread in the rug in front of her bed.

She told herself to calm down. Jughead was fine, and he was busy with looking for a job. She sat at her vanity, and when she did, she saw the prescription bottle of Adderall, that her mother had refilled despite Betty telling her not to. It wasn't the only medication her mother had pushed on her. Speaking of drugs, Alice Cooper was in a close-to-catatonic state herself. During the day, she popped Adderall like breath mints, and at night, to calm her brain enough to sleep, Alice relied on Ambien. It was still early evening, but Alice was asleep, dead to the world.

Betty took her own medicine bottle and tossed it into the drawer of her nightstand. She still wasn't sure if her sister was sane or not, and she knew for a fact that her mother was unhinged, and there were times she worried that the mental health problems were hereditary. Maybe it was just a matter of time before she lost it, too.

Then there was her dad, a man she thought she could love and trust, a respite from the storm of her demanding mother, but she had learned that maybe she didn't know Hal Cooper at all. And she had hoped that she'd taken after her dad in the not-crazy department, but now she wasn't sure a single Cooper was sane.

Last night when her mother had a cocktail of too pills and bottle of wine, Alice had divulged more information on her father than Betty wanted to know. When Alice was the same age as Polly was now, she had gotten pregnant, too. When Alice told Hal, he said he'd take care of things, which she thought was to get married. But that's not what Hal had foreseen for their future. He picked her up for a date, a date on which she thought he had a surprise engagement planned, but instead he took her to a rundown stripmall in the next town over.

Alice woke up hours later on a thin cot in the back room of a makeshift doctor's office. She was naked except a stiff white sheet covering her body. She was sore and so tired that she could barely keep her eyes open. But she never forgot Hal standing over her, telling her she wasn't pregnant anymore.

When Alice had asked him about it later, he'd told her that she'd imagined being pregnant, the trip to the doctor, all of it. She'd made the whole thing up to get attention. This wouldn't have been the first time she'd had a lapse in memory or acted out. Alice spent the summer before her sophomore year with the Sisters of Holy Mercy herself, recovering from a mental breakdown.

Alice had tried to tell her more about all wrongs her father had committed, but she was honestly afraid that Alice to confirm her suspicion that Hal had killed Jason for getting Polly pregnant. Betty had fled the room, not wanting hear anymore horrible things about her dad. He'd been the parent who had always been gentle with her, taken time, and listened when her mother had stifled everything. But her father had forced her mother to have an abortion when she wanted to have the baby. He had stolen her baby from her. He'd tried to do the same thing to Polly. What kind of father and husband would do that?

The light in Archie's bedroom flicked on. Are you home? Betty texted a second later.

Just got in. Jughead replied.

She slipped on her shoes and ran for her bedroom door, pausing at the threshold when she realized she was wearing only her short sleep shorts and tank top and it was raining out. Whatever. Jughead had seen her nearly naked. There was no need to cover up. She rushed down the stairs, stopping only to grab her keys and lock the front door. The Andrews never locked their door, so she didn't bother knocking.

She found Jughead sitting on Archie's bed, a takeout container from Pop's perched on his lap. He was mid-bite when he saw her at the doorway. He dropped his hamburger. "Damn, Betty."

She caught the image of her reflection in the window. Her hair was damp, causing it to curl around the nape of her neck. Her tank top clung to her skin, accentuating the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra. She looked older, sexier than demur the Betty Cooper she was supposed to be had the right to look. She felt sexy and that was because of the way Jughead was studying her, like something he wanted to devour her.

He set his uneaten meal on the nightstand and held his hand out to her. "Come here," he said and she crossed the small space of the room.

With school and everything that was going on with Polly, her parents, and Jughead dealing with Archie, they hadn't been alone together in since they'd talked to FP. Going to Jughead's trailer had been eye opening in so many ways.

She knew things weren't good at home, but she hadn't realized just how bad. Sure Alice was demanding and overbearing, but at least she was present in Betty's life. Alice cared too much, but at least she cared. Betty took for granted that she would have breakfast waiting for her every morning, a lunch packed, new clothes whenever she wanted, a warm bed and a safe place to stay. Jughead had none of that. FP left his son to make his own way through the world, and from what Betty gathered, Jughead had been going it alone for most of his life.

She wanted to be the one person he could turn to, his comfort and shelter from the storm, just as he'd been to her over the last few weeks. Life had gotten in the way lately, and she had ached for him, for his comfort, his touch, his kisses. For Jughead himself, that snarky, yet soft and steady presence.

She stood there in front of him, his eye looking her over. She wanted him to touch her, but was also curious to find out if he'd resolved thing with Archie yet. "How'd things go with Archie?" she asked.

"Fine. We both said something things we shouldn't have, but we hugged it out like bros do," he said, grinning.

"It was about me, wasn't it?" She and Jughead had briefly discussed what had happened between them at school, but Jughead had left out the details, and she was certain it was to spare her feelings.

"He's jealous, and believe me," he said, shrugging. "I get it. I spent most of my life being jealous of you two."

"Why were you jealous of me and Archie?" she asked.

"Because all our lives, you've had him and he's had you."

"But you were there, too, Juggie," she said, touching his arm.

"Yeah, always in the background."

"Not to me. Archie often eclipses everything around them, making it hard to pay the attention you want to to other people, but he never stopped me from seeing you."

"It was like you two had your own little world together. You just let me live in it."

"You were a part of that world, always have been. I'm sorry if we ever made you feel like you weren't."

"I was lucky to be near you." He brushed her face with the back of his hand. "Both of you. My friendship with Archie, be it good or bad, will always be my anchor. When I had nothing and no one to count on, I always had him."

"And now you have me, too," she said. "We'll build our own world, Jug. Just you and me."

"Cooper and Jones," he said, smiling up at her. He opened his mouth again, like he wanted to say something else, but stopped himself.

"Speaking of Archie," she said. "How long do we have until they get back?"

"Two hours at least," he replied. "They went for pizza and to see a movie. What about your mom?"

"In a pill-induced sleep."

His hand brushed up her arm, and he sighed as he pulled her down onto his lap and she sank into him. He closed his eyes as he nuzzled her neck, inhaled her scent. "You smell like the rain." His fingers combed through her hair, tilting her head so that she was looking at him. "Do you remember that time in fifth grade when our teacher wouldn't let us go out for recess because of the the thunderstorm? But you said that you didn't care. There was rainbow outside the classroom and you had to go see it," he said.

She smiled at the memory. "My granddaddy had just passed away, and the pastor read a poem about rainbows at the funeral. I thought my grandfather was somehow in that rainbow, trying to say goodbye. And you helped me sneak out of class to see it."

"Do you remember what happened once we got outside?"

"How could I forget? We both got detention."

"I think you're one and only," Jughead said.

"I'm not as innocent as I look," she replied, thinking about the one other time she got into trouble at school for being tardy.

"That I know, and that I liked about you," he said, moving his hand in between them to slip under her shirt. "But I'm not talking about the detention." His fingers shifted to her waist. "I remember something else, something that made that detention worth it, at least for me."

She thought back. He had hugged her and let her cry it out. Even in the fifth grade, he was almost as tall as he is now, all skinny legs and boney elbows. "I cried my eyes out. And you held me. It was the first time I remember really touching you. You held me while I cried."

"And you kissed me on the cheek." He smiled, the joy weaving its way through his soul, reaching his eyes. Now she remembered. He'd gotten so flustered on the playground. She laughed at his awkwardness, and she felt happy for the first time since her grandfather passed away. Jughead helped her see that life could go on and be good even when your heart was broken. Now he was helping her see that again. He was making everything bad seem not so awful, bearable.

"It was so simple," he said. "A kiss to thank me, such a Betty thing to do. Sweet." He kissed her mouth. "Kind." He kissed her collarbone. "Loving." He kissed her breastbone, and Betty's heart flip flopped beneath his lips. "There is no one like you on this earth, no one quite as good or honest." He nipped her shoulder and she giggled. "No one will ever be as hot at you."

He slipped one of the straps of her tank top down and then the other. The front of her top remained in place, covering her breast. He palmed each of them, lifted them up. At first he buried his face in the giving softness, and then his mouth moved, his tongue swirling around one areola and then the next.

Her head fell back, as he whispered across her chest, "I don't deserve you, Betty Cooper."

That deprecating statement woke her from her lust. She pulled back a little and took his face in her hands. "Yes, you do, Jughead. You deserve me and I deserve you. You deserve all the goodness and love in this world."

His eyes misted over as he let out a little breath. "Okay," he said like he was giving into something, into her.

She kissed him, and meant it to be simple and sweet, but couldn't help herself. She eased her tongue past his lips and sank fully onto his lap. Jughead grabbed her hips, lifted her up and flipped her onto her back, the mattress swaying under her as she landed. He never stopped kissing her as he lay between her legs. His hand was sandwiched between them, reaching under the waistband of her shorts. A thrill went through her when she realized what he was about to do, what he was so good at doing. But his hand didn't stop where it normally did. His fingers searched deeper, moving between her folds, penetrating her.

For a brief second, the movement of Jughead fingers shocked her, causing her to suck in a breath. He stopped kissed her, stopped everything, and looked down at her. "Okay?" he asked.

Her core throbbed, pulsated around him. She tilted her pelvis upward, wanting more. "Yeah. Really okay," she said nodding her head, and he began to move again. Her breath came out shaky, and she grabbed at his shoulders, wordlessly asking for him to go faster, deeper. And he did. Her head thrashed around on the pillow as his other hand pulled her shorts and panties down her thighs. He tossed her clothes to the floor.

His mouth moved from her lips, down her body, kissing every inch of her he could reach. He stopped at her pubic bone, and just the cool exhalation of his breath against her flushed skin cause her to nearly jerk off the bed. His fingers continued to move, in and out, and then his lips and tongue joined in. And that was all it took.

She must have had some sort of out of body experience because the next thing she knew Jughead was laying beside, smiling at her. She was so sated and satisfied that her body felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. She didn't want to move, but she needed to touch him. Blindly she reached for him. He took her hand and positioned it where he wanted it, and he kept his hand over hers, helping her stroke him up and down. The sounds of arousal that he was making woke her up. She sat up and his hand fell away, giving her full range. She didn't stop until he whispered her name as he came.

After that, they both passed out, their limbs tangled together on top of Archie's comforter. It wasn't until they heard the front door slam that they both jolted awake. Downstairs, they could hear Archie and Fred moving around the kitchen, talking quietly to each other and rooting around in the cabinets.

It was then that Betty realized all she had on was her tank top, twisted around her torso. Jughead pulled up his pants and tossed her her shorts. "How am I going to get out of here?" she asked.

"Front door," Jughead said.

He took her by the hand and she followed him through the hall, and down the stairs where they stopped at the bottom. They peaked into the kitchen, and for the moment, the coast was clear. Jughead hustled her through the foyer, kissed her quickly on the mouth and closed the front door behind her. As she walked down the steps, she heard Fred greet Jughead. They were safe. Her mom would never know she'd snuck out again, and the Andrews wouldn't know either.

She glanced back at the bedroom window and smiled to herself. She loved Jughead, and she was going to tell him soon. For that moment, everything in Riverdale was right. She was happy. She was in love. Everything was going to be okay. As she crossed the driveway to her property, she realized something, and stopped in her tracks.

She'd left her panties somewhere on Archie's bedroom floor.