Jughead walked down the hallways of Sweetwater Pines, taking in the individual rooms that housed each of the patients. Betty was currently sitting in group therapy, and he decided to peek his head in. He walked down to the room Sweet Pea held the group in, compiling a list in his mind of all the things he needed to touch base with her on. Once he was in the room, he glanced around, eyes shifting between the people in the room. Betty was sitting on the far end of the couch, head bow, and it was when Sweet Pea addressed her, that Jughead noticed her eyes were red-rimmed. "Betty, would you like a chance to talk today?" Sweet Pea's tone was kind for the blonde, but Betty shook her head, clearing her throat a little.
"No, thank you," she murmured, voice breaking, and Jughead saw two girls sitting adjacent to her laugh quietly, with one of them pointing at her. Betty's cheeks hued red and Jughead had seen enough mean girls in his life to know these girls were bullying her to an extent. He was livid. Sweet Pea nodded, throwing a harsh look at the other two girls before he dismissed his group. The people in the room got up and began walking out, some saying hi to Jughead, and he nodded back at them as he made his way to Sweet Pea, who was still watching the blonde.
"What happened there?" Jughead asked his taller friend in low tones, eyes on Betty too.
Sweet Pea sighed. "Those two girls – Amber and Ashely – laughed at her the instant she walked in, making fun of how thin she was and asking rude, almost demanding questions. Betty clammed up the moment she sat down on the sofa and didn't partake in any of the group therapy. I tried to get her to speak but she was pretty hurt."
Jughead felt mutinous because how dare two patients in the treatment facility make fun of a third. It was too much of a thought to bear. He nodded at Sweet Pea. "Thanks for trying. I'll talk to her."
Jughead made his way to Betty, who had now opened a book and was reading it. "Good book?"
"Its pretty good, yeah," she replied, keeping her voice even.
"Want to talk about what happened?" Jughead asked softly.
"You mean, Sweet Pea didn't tell you?" Betty asked levelly, eyes never straying from her book.
Jughead sighed. "I'd like to hear it from you, if you feel like sharing."
"Just mean, catty girls being their typical bitchy selves," she said, shrugging a nonchalant shoulder, and Jughead wanted to laugh at her choice of words.
"I couldn't have put it better myself, Betty," he grinned as he sat down next to her on the couch. She finally looked up from her book, crystalline tears coating dainty eyelashes.
"They're just being the way they think they need to behave," she muttered. "Mean comments about my body predates them."
"Do you have a lot of people taunting you for your body?" Jughead asked quietly, heart aching at the thought.
She shrugged, marking her page carefully. "I have people tell me I'm too thin and then I have the really classy assholes telling me I could afford to lose more weight."
Jughead frowned, feeling a heat spread through him at the thought of malicious people aiming their words like swords to maim against her skin. "Fuck them."
She flinched at his harsh tone but looked at him all the same. "Are you allowed to say that?"
"Betty, I'm allowed to say whatever the fuck I want," he replied patiently. "Its not okay for anyone to comment on anybody's weight, no matter what the number is. I'm so sorry you have people in your life who think its okay to do that."
"Just the football team," she murmured. "I'm a senior in high school and co-captain of the cheerleading squad. My body is up for discussion and scrutiny all the time."
"It's nobody's business about your body," Jughead sighed sadly. "I'm sorry you have to go through that."
Betty laughed; it sounded brittle. "Nothing I'm not used to. My best friend, Kevin Keller, tries to get me to eat more but I just – I can't bring myself to do that. It hurts too much."
"Hurts?" Jughead echoed, voice betraying nothing.
"Like," Betty began and then sighed. "It's like I know I need to eat; that I'm not doing my body any favors by depriving it of food, but I just can't at times. Its too much. It exhausts me."
"Eating exhausts you?" Jughead asked carefully, making sure to keep his tone controlled so he didn't spook her with the very visceral pain he felt at her admittance.
"Yeah," she whispered. "I don't know why."
"Is it the act of eating that exhausts you or is it the thought of the calories?" Jughead hedged, hoping to understand her better.
"I – I don't know," Betty admitted honestly. "I don't think the motion of eating is what tires me but my mind runs a mile per minute whenever I'm around food. Cooking it; eating it; whichever, it always races. And I think that's what leaves me tired."
"How long have you had anxiety?" Jughead asked quietly and she blinked, startled for a moment, before she laughed wearily.
"Too long to remember," she said, tone somewhat sheepish.
"Do you take anything for it?" Jughead asked.
"Prozac is my prescription but I don't always take it," she muttered.
"Because it's a medication prescribed to help eating disorders?" Jughead asked wisely, and Betty laughed again.
"God, how awful is it that I can't even take my prescribed anxiety meds but I don't want to control my aversion to food."
"It's not unheard of," Jughead said slowly, "but Betty, if you need them, you really should be taking them. Prozac can help you a great deal."
She rubbed her hands down her face, sighing wearily. "I know they can, Jughead. I'm just…"
"Tired?" Jughead supplied and she laughed sardonically.
"Yes, exactly that. I'm tired," she murmured.
His heart ached in his chest cavity. He'd have to find another way to help her.