His knees hit the pavement with a thud, Sweet Pea and Fangs landing sprawled out next to him seconds later.
"Get lost," a voice called, probably the ringleader who'd suckerpunched him unprovoked. Fucking asshole.
Jughead scrambled to his feet, unwilling to give what was clearly a group of moronic, amped-up jocks the satisfaction of watching him cower on the ground.
"Fuck you," he shouted at the top of his lungs, his friends echoing his cries.
The Northsiders jeered in response, slamming the double doors shut behind them.
Jughead winced at the force of the bang. His ears were ringing and his cheekbone hurt like a bitch. He could already feel a nasty bruise forming under his eye, on top of the sting of a scraped wrist.
Worst of all, though, was the way his heart tugged at his conversation with Betty being interrupted.
He glanced in crazy hope at the window, but there was no sign of her. She'd likely frozen up after that first punch. Not that he blamed her. What well-bred Northside girl wouldn't in such a situation?
Jughead snarled, his irritation level skyrocketing. He kicked at the smoothly paved driveway, his mind working a mile a minute. What the fuck had just happened? Who was that jackass? Was Betty okay?
The questions piled on top of each other, hovering in the night air, with no answers forthcoming. It was like trying to grasp at stardust.
"Damnit," he barked. His voice was too hoarse to yell again, much as he wanted to shout for the rooftops. Sweet Pea and Fangs looked over at him with sympathy, dusting the gravel off themselves.
"Come on, Jug, let's get the hell out of here," Sweet Pea muttered.
Jughead let out a deep breath, trying to calm the anger racing through his veins. His thoughts were still on Betty as they retreated down the driveway away from the house. What a terrible fucking first impression he'd given her. Getting into unplanned scuffles wasn't him. He'd never been prone to random acts of violence, even if, solely as a result of his upbringing, he'd always known to be prepared for a fight, especially from disdainful and judgmental Northsiders. This little episode didn't exactly surprise him, although his ego was bruised worse than it normally would be. Because she'd had to witness it. Jughead knew he hadn't done anything wrong, that he'd only intended to defend himself, but it wouldn't be illogical for Betty to label him as some sort of bum for reacting with his fists. Who knew, though? Maybe she was just afraid of that clown who'd hit him. Maybe that was why she hadn't come after him. He could only hope that was the reason.
Jughead sighed. What a fucking night. It had started so promising and then just as quickly unraveled like a cheap knit sweater. His disappointment was palpable; he really hoped she was okay.
Forget it, Jug, he warned himself. As incredible as she seemed, any chance with her is shot to hell. Let it go.
Jughead shook his head, stalking off faster down the driveway past the gate until reaching the spot he'd parked his vintage Honda motorcycle. He mounted the bike, revving the engine louder than necessary for good measure, before starting to drive off.
He only made it half a block before the jittery knot of agitation once again consumed him. This girl was special, damnit. Why should he just give her up? Because he happened to be a Southsider? Fuck that. Overwhelmed by the swirling thoughts, he braked abruptly in the middle of the road, the tires of his bike screeching in displeasure. He jumped up and began to pace back and forth on the asphalt, muttering angrily to himself.
"Hey," Sweet Pea shouted, zipping to a stop next to him. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Who the fuck was that douchebag?" he bellowed in lieu of answering. Jughead kicked the steel toe of his combat boot against the foot pedal, prompting the bike to shake a little.
"Whoa, Jug, chill."
Jughead glared up at Sweet Pea. "Nobody is going to tell me what girl I can talk to, least of all some entitled Northside prick. I liked her, and I can tell she liked me."
"That's all well and good, man, but—"
"Fuck that," Jughead steamrolled over him. "We're not leaving. I'm going to wait for her."
"Bro, don't you think she would have followed if she was interested?" Fangs chimed in.
Jughead blinked at him, refusing to surrender to the logic of his statement. "I don't care," he said stubbornly. "We're staying. Or I am. You two can do whatever you want."
Sweet Pea and Fangs exchanged looks, but seemed willing to entertain him.
"Okay, Romeo." Sweet Pea let out an amused chortle. "We'll wait with you."
Jughead ignored the gibe, re-straddling his bike and steering it back down the road. He stopped just outside of the estate's imposing entrance gate, huddling next to the overgrown ivy peeking through the bars. He stood ramrod straight, his eyes fixed on the drive leading up to the massive brick and stone mansion, tuning out the low rumble of conversation between Fangs and Sweet Pea behind him. They were probably laughing at his expense, but he didn't care. She needed to come out eventually.
A few minutes passed. Yet nothing. No sign of her. His eyes narrowed, glowering impatiently at the ornate family crest emblazoned in gold over the brass bars.
She's going to come out, he repeated to himself.
Fangs coughed behind him. "Jug, maybe we—"
"Shhh," he instructed, the light pitter-patter of footsteps perking up his ear.
The noise drew closer and Jughead's heart began to beat faster. It has to be her. He exhaled when he caught a flash of blonde ponytail in the distance. All the tension seemed to dissolve from his body in that one breath. Just a glimpse of her was enough to soothe his nerves.
Betty pushed open the gate and Jughead stepped out of the shadows to greet her.
"Hey you."
Betty startled for a moment, but quickly recovered when she recognized him. Her face softened into a smile, her green eyes radiant in the moonlight. She looked relieved to see him. More than that, even. Elated.
"Hi yourself."
Jughead's lips slowly curled up. "Leaving so soon?" he drawled.
Betty pressed her mouth together, trying to suppress a giggle at his sarcasm. "That party went downhill fast," she relayed. "Kevin and I thought about grabbing a milkshake at Pop's." Betty leaned toward the preppy-looking, brown-haired boy standing beside her. "Kevin, this is Jughead. We met earlier."
"Jughead," Kevin mouthed to her, eyeing Jughead's suspenders with distaste. "What kind of name is that?"
"Kevin, be nice," she admonished, glancing apologetically toward Jughead.
He shrugged it off. He'd already survived the equivalent of one fire-breathing dragon tonight. This one didn't appear half as threatening. And from the not so subtle way Kevin was now ogling Fangs, it didn't take much for Jughead to realize he wasn't even close to competition.
Feeling a surge of confidence, he edged a step closer to Betty, offering her a devilish grin. "How about taking a ride instead?"
Betty tilted her head to the side, appraising him. "To where?"
"A more inclusive party."
"And what are we going to do there?"
"Whatever you want."
Betty's eyes gleamed, her smile growing mischievous. She pointed to the half helmet he wore. "Do you have one of those for me?"
The smirk on Jughead's lips deepened. The punch and its fallout suddenly seemed like a blip of no consequence. An already-forgotten memory. His eyes lifted toward the sky. Dozens of stars were glittering above them, offering nothing but uninterrupted time for him and Betty now. He planned to make the most of it.
His stare fell back to Betty. "Use mine."
Jughead removed the helmet from over his beanie and lowered it gently onto her head. He gazed down at her as he secured the strap under her chin, enjoying a little too much the way she seemed to shiver when his fingertips grazed her skin.
"Thanks," she whispered.
He nodded, finding himself entranced by how cute she looked. The faded black matte of the helmet should have clashed with the frilly floral dress she wore, but somehow the incongruity worked. Seeing her bright eyes darting up to him from under the crown insignia he'd sketched with white pencil into the visor was like the cherry on top. Little sparks danced over his arms.
"The Wyrm?" Sweet Pea called out to him.
Jughead hesitated for a moment. There was a chance Jess was working there tonight, and he wasn't exactly eager to cross paths with his ex while hanging out with another girl. Especially one he already felt so inexplicably attached to.
"Come on," Sweet Pea needled. "Joaquin's band is playing."
"That sounds like fun," Betty interjected.
She was smiling so sweetly at him that Jughead thought his cheeks might burst from the silly grin now filling his face.
"Yeah, you a big fan of garage rock?"
Her nose wrinkled, but she quickly adjusted her features into a diplomatic smile. "I'm willing to try it."
Jughead bit back a laugh. "Okay, then, the Whyte Wyrm it is."
Kevin's concerned voice spoke out from behind her. "Betty, are you sure about this?"
"She'll be fine," Fangs attested. "Jughead doesn't bite."
"Yeah, he's a Serpent, not a bear," Sweet Pea joked.
"I'm not sure which is more dangerous," Kevin muttered under his breath.
Betty turned to Kevin with an inquisitive expression. "Serpent?"
"They're a gang, Betty," Kevin stage-whispered. "My dad told me they run drugs and stolen car parts."
Sweet Pea rolled his eyes. "You Northsiders love to say that shit."
"He's the town sheriff," Kevin protested with a yelp.
"Cops," Sweet Pea groaned. "Even worse."
Jughead looked toward Betty, praying she would believe him and not her misinformed friend. "It's a motorcycle club, that's all. I promise."
Betty glanced between him and Kevin, but seemed to trust the resoluteness in Jughead's eyes. "It's fine, Kev."
Kevin made a pained face, still appearing skeptical. "I'm coming with you."
"The more the merrier," Fangs declared. He winked at Kevin, who immediately crimsoned. "Hop on, Preppie."
Jughead turned back to Betty. She was eyeing his motorcycle a little more nervously now that they were about to set off.
"Have you ever been on one before?" he asked with a knowing smirk.
"No," she admitted.
"It'll be okay," he reassured her. "Just hold on tight." Jughead pulled off the thick flannel wrapped around his waist and draped it over her shoulders. "For extra protection."
Betty bit her bottom lip under his gaze, her body trembling despite the coziness of the fabric now surrounding her slender frame.
Jughead straddled the bike and grinned softly at her. He cocked his head for her to join him. "You coming?"
Betty nodded. She settled herself on the seat behind him, slipping her arms hesitantly around his waist. Jughead swallowed down the lump that instantly formed in his throat when her soft hands grasped onto his stomach. He revved the engine, warmth flooding his chest when she clutched him a little tighter. The feel of her body pressed against his was almost too good to be true.
They sped off, cruising toward the Southside. Betty's arms around him never once slipped or slackened, not that Jughead particularly minded. He would happily let her crush his intestines if it meant he could keep her next to him for the rest of the night.
When he pulled to a stop outside the Whyte Wyrm, it took her a moment to release him. Carefully, she unfurled her arms and they both stood up.
"Not so scary, right?" he teased.
"Terrifying, actually," she countered. But the look of pure exhilaration in her eyes showed her initial trepidation had melted away.
Jughead snickered and unfastened the strap at her chin. "So no chance of a second ride?"
Her eyes widened flirtatiously, but Kevin interrupted before she could answer.
"Betty, this place looks really sketchy," he complained.
Jughead watched as Betty spun around to examine the bar's exterior. Her eyes constricted slightly, taking in the dirty white clapboards and the blood-red beams covering the double shed doors, before lifting up to the gray awning. "Whyte Wyrm" was emblazoned in intimidating white letters on it, beside the faded image of an open-mouthed serpent. Jughead's breath caught in his throat when she glimpsed back at him, her expression at first unreadable. He tried to smile encouragingly, fearing for a moment she'd order him to take her home immediately. Instead, Betty pulled off his helmet and handed it to him.
"It looks okay to me, Kev," she declared.
"Yeah, Kev," Fangs echoed, slapping the other boy on the back. "Live a little."
"Let's go already," Sweet Pea demanded. He ushered the group up the entrance steps, pausing only to shake hands with Tall Boy, one of the regular bouncers.
Jughead noticed Betty's eyes narrowing again as they walked through the doors. She squinted in the dim fluorescent light, appraising her new surroundings. Her gaze paused on the glass-shelved bar and the neon band posters on the wall. Jughead was sure a place like this was unfamiliar to her, but she didn't seem put off by it. She looked more curious than anything else. Jughead's lips ticked up, his smirk widening when Betty's eyes connected with his. She shot him a small smile, and Jughead allowed his fingers to skim her dress, his hand lingering close to the small of her back as he guided her past the bar top.
The room opened up to reveal a pool table and a mid-sized stage. Surrounding it on two levels of flooring were assorted wooden tables and chairs, along with metal stools covered in black leather cushioning. Jughead grabbed the first open table he saw and pulled out two chairs so Betty could settle in next to him.
Sweet Pea plopped down on his other side. "I could really use a beer after tonight's adventure."
"Ditto." Fangs sized up Kevin, who was pouting and scrunching into his seat. "Feel like making yourself useful and helping me bring everyone drinks?"
"They don't card?" Kevin looked horrified, although for all Jughead knew, his prissiness could have been from the room's general state of discleanliness, or his overall revulsion at finding himself in a biker bar.
"There are some advantages to being criminals, Preppie." Fangs brushed his shaggy hair from his brow, and Kevin's ears tinged red.
Jughead snorted and peered toward Betty. "Want something?"
She gnawed at her bottom lip. "What are you getting?"
"Just a coke." Jughead felt an involuntary twinge in his gut, and he tried to hide his ensuing wince. He wasn't ashamed of his choice not to partake in alcohol, but he also hoped Betty wouldn't think it was uncool or start pressing him on his reasons for why not. He wasn't sure he was ready for a deep dive on his father's numerous failings, especially not when FP was probably skulking around the bar tonight, already flat-out drunk.
But Betty simply nodded and addressed Fangs politely. "Two cokes, please."
Fangs saluted her and dragged an unenthused Kevin back toward the bar.
Jughead exhaled, his momentary anxiety seeping away. Betty smiled at him and he felt himself relax completely. He slid his arm around the back of her seat, trying to keep the gesture as casual as possible. Her body instinctively sidled closer to him, her face flushing pink when she caught herself. Her green eyes lowered to the table, but there was no denying the shimmer in them.
Sweet Pea made a gag motion and Jughead glared at him, silently telling him to cut it out. Luckily, Betty didn't seem aware of the other boy's antics. She was too busy straining her gaze toward the stage as the leather-clad bassist launched into a raucous solo.
Sweet Pea rolled his eyes but humored Jughead. "So blondie," he flung in Betty's direction, "don't tell me you're a teetotaler, too?"
Betty appeared slightly flustered at the question. "Oh, well, I—"
"Ignore him," Jughead whispered loudly in her ear. "He wouldn't even know that word if I hadn't taught it to him."
Betty's face brimmed with amusement. "Do you make a habit of expanding your friends' vocabularies?"
"Only on weekdays."
Betty giggled, her mouth opening to banter back, when Fangs and Kevin materialized with everyone's drinks. A discordant electric guitar riff sounded in the background and the band launched into an even louder number, making it impossible to do anything but sit back and listen.
Jughead tightened his grip around Betty's chair, his attention trained more on her than the band onstage as a medley of songs passed in a blur. She bobbed her head to the music, seeming to enjoy it in spite of herself. Jughead grinned as he watched her, butterflies flapping in his stomach. He felt like a little boy experiencing his first crush; it was hard to resist gawking at her. Soon Betty's eyes met his, the anticipation in them sending a warm shiver down his spine.
From the corner of his eye, Jughead noticed Sweet Pea nudging Fangs and glancing knowingly between him and Betty.
"We're going to play pool," Sweet Pea declared a moment later, forcing Kevin up along with them.
Jughead nodded, a swell of excitement rising in his throat at the prospect of being left alone with her, even in the midst of a crowded bar. He swallowed and angled his body to Betty's. "Hi."
"Hey," she murmured. She studied his face, her fingers tentatively lifting up to trace the bruise forming on the tender skin under his eye. "Does that hurt?"
Jughead's stomach muscles clenched, his skin tingling from just one innocent touch. "I'll live," he breathed.
She nodded, her eyes flickering shyly into his. "I'm sorry I got you kicked out of the party."
"It's not your fault." Jughead took a sip from his soda and rubbed his lips together. "Who was that jackass, anyway?"
A nervous grimace flashed over Betty's face. "My ex."
Ah, Jughead thought. That explains it. Territorial fucker. "Recent?" he questioned.
"This afternoon, roughly."
His eyes bulged with interest. "Really?"
"Yes." Betty bit into her straw and sucked down a large gulp of cola. Swallowing, she peeked cautiously back at him. "Does that scare you off? Make you think I'm a loose woman?" She spoke the words in a joking cadence, but Jughead could hear the underlying self-deprecation in her tone.
His gaze darkened, penetrating straight into hers. "I know what I want. Why would I be scared of a woman who does, too?"
Betty fiddled with the top button of her dress, her cheeks glowing in the orange fairy lights strung from the ceiling. "And what do you want?"
Jughead chuckled and sipped from his glass. "Isn't it too soon to be giving away all my secrets?"
Her eyebrows rose, apparently dissatisfied with him playing coy. "I think you're just too scared to say it out loud."
The corner of his lip crooked up. "I want a lot of things," he told her. "Right now, to kiss you."
A rosy blush spread across Betty's face. Jughead could tell he'd taken her by surprise with his sudden shift to forwardness, but he didn't think he had displeased her. She looked too enthralled by the prospect. He grinned boyishly, goosebumps prickling over his skin.
"Are you glad you came with me?" he asked huskily.
She didn't hesitate. "Yes."
On impulse, Jughead leaned in to Betty, his hungry gaze never leaving hers. Betty's breath hitched, her soft lips pursing open. She tilted her chin to him and Jughead's mouth inched closer. Their noses nearly brushed when the music skidded to a stop around them. They froze, staring at each other, dazed.
So close. He shuddered in disappointment. But if he were to be honest with himself, he knew he'd rather kiss her for the first time when they weren't in a bar full of people. A girl like her definitely deserved something more romantic.
"Do you want to get out of here?" Jughead blurted out, his eyes begging hers to say yes.
Her voice was barely above a whisper, still lost in the trance of their almost-kiss. "Where?"
"Anywhere."
Betty's lips curved into a smile. "Lover's Lane?" she ribbed, naming the town's infamous make-out spot.
Jughead's eyes crinkled. He loved how quickly she could get her wits back about her. "Actually, I had somewhere else in mind."
"Okay," she agreed readily, following him up from the table and out of the bar.
He drove them to a grassy embankment overlooking Sweetwater River, at the edge of Fox Forest. The darkness was so dense at the secluded spot that even after braking Jughead kept the motorcycle's headlights on, the yellow glare illuminating the Eastern hemlocks swaying softly across the shore.
Jughead pulled his flannel from Betty's shoulders, crouching on his knees to spread it over a thicker patch of grass. He motioned for her to sit. Betty tucked her legs under her dress and perched down on the shirt, Jughead squeezing in beside her. He watched her eyes begin to travel with the river's current, both of them quiet as they listened to the soft ripple of water slapping against the rocks.
After a few moments, she peered over at him. "It's beautiful."
"Yeah," he agreed, staring intently at her. "It is."
Betty blushed under his heated gaze. She folded her arms around herself and glanced back out at the water. "Do you bring all your girlfriends here?"
Jughead's lips arched up, but his voice was solemn. "I've never brought anyone else here."
Betty shivered at his words. Her breath seemed to catch in her throat.
Jughead's eyes found hers, his heart racing. "Can I kiss you?"
"Don't you mean, may I?"
Jughead snickered. This girl is going to keep me on my toes. "A stickler for correct grammar, I see," he quipped back to her. "You know that only makes me want to kiss you more."
Betty's eyes twinkled. "Does it?"
"Yes." Jughead angled his upper body toward her, his face inching so close he could feel her hot breath against his nose. "Betty, may I kiss you?"
Betty's chin trembled as his hand crept up to cup the nape of her neck. "You may," she whispered.
His lips brushed gently against hers. The kiss was delicate at first, gossamer light. He forced himself to hold back, exerting only the barest bit of pressure, before gradually deepening it. He sucked lightly on her bottom lip, nearly groaning when he tasted the remnants of her chapstick. Fuck, it was strawberry. Jughead kissed her harder and her mouth pursed open, her lips parting for him. His tongue slid softly against hers, their breaths mingling, sugary sweet from the soda. His fingers tangled in Betty's hair, a whimper sounding from her throat.
Jughead broke the kiss, unable to stifle his proud smirk. That little noise was a huge turn-on.
Betty's eyes fluttered open, her face reddening when she saw the teasing way he was looking at her. "I'm sorry. You…you're very good at that."
His thumb wandered up to stroke her cheekbone. "Don't be. It was really sexy."
She blushed harder and he laughed, leaning forward to kiss her once more. He could already feel himself becoming addicted.
"You taste so good," he mumbled. His lips trailed down from her mouth to nip at her jaw. "Can we see each other again?"
Another whimper escaped Betty's throat, her voice breathy and staggered as she answered. "I've never gone out with someone not from school. My friends are going to freak."
"Fuck it," Jughead muttered. He kissed down her neck, transfixed by the smooth pale skin he was eager to mark. He nibbled at her pulse point, groaning when Betty let out a soft moan. "Walk on the wild side."
Betty giggled and reached for Jughead's cheek to bring his lips back to hers, when her phone blared with what sounded like an alarm. She fished the device out of her pocket and frowned.
"Do you have to go home?" Jughead asked, trying to mask his disappointment. He would easily spend the whole night with her if she'd let him, but that didn't mean he wanted to come across as a dick pressuring her into breaking what was obviously her curfew.
Betty's eyes were apologetic when they met his. "Yes."
"It's okay," he assured her. "Shall we?"
Jughead helped Betty up from the ground, plucking his flannel off the grass. He offered it to her once more, along with his helmet. She gave him her address and he straddled the bike, a surge of warmth flooding his veins at the feel of her arms wrapping snugly around him. Her grasp on him was no longer a vise grip, but still close and tight, as he steered them back to the Northside.
When they turned onto Elm Street, Jughead slowed, cutting the engine. His eyes scanned over the rows of two-story family homes, a familiar jealousy brewing in his stomach. Her neighborhood looked like the picture of Rockwellian suburban bliss, a far cry from his dilapidated trailer park lodgings.
His insecurities simmered hot and fast, but they quieted when one of Betty's hands squeezed his side. "This one," she told him.
Jughead pulled to a stop outside of a large white mid-century colonial with a bright red door. Betty's arms lingered around his waist, and he felt the hard set of his jaw softening. She doesn't seem to care that you're from different worlds, he reminded himself, so why should you worry about it?
Betty pressed her cheek to his shoulder blade and stood up. She passed him the helmet and flannel. Jughead placed them on the seat behind him and gazed back at her. His insides melted when Betty beamed at him, her pretty face incandescent in the Victorian street light decorating her family's pristine front yard. Her buoyant ponytail had gotten a little mottled from all the riding, but she still looked as lovely as when he'd spotted her across the foyer at the party. Jughead found himself stepping forward onto the curb, his fingers drifting up to push a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
Her eyelashes fluttered shut and Jughead took the opportunity to reach for Betty's hand and interlace their fingers.
She glimpsed down at their intertwined hands before arching an eyebrow up at him. "Does this mean you're walking me to my door?"
"What kind of gentleman detective would I be if I didn't?"
Betty laughed and led him up the walkway's stone steps. Her grip loosened when they arrived at the stoop and she turned to him breathlessly. Jughead could feel the nerves radiating off her, the unspoken desire for him to kiss her again. It was all he could think about, too.
"This is me," she murmured.
"So it is." Jughead's hand slipped to her neck, his thumb tipping up her chin. "Night, Betty," he whispered, his lips sweeping over hers.
Betty kissed him back so eagerly that try as he might Jughead couldn't bring himself to pull away. It was only when she mewled his name in delicious warning that he reluctantly let go.
He offered Betty a sheepish grin. "Sorry."
Betty's cheeks flushed, her eyes bright, sparkling in the moonlight. "I'll see you later, Jug."
Jughead grinned wider at her use of his nickname. She must have heard Sweet Pea calling him that earlier, although it sounded much sweeter on her tongue.
Betty twisted her key in the lock and the door latched open. She rose to step inside.
"Wait," Jughead said. He stared at her expectantly. "Aren't you going to give me your number?"
Betty tilted her head to him, her face donning a playful smile. "You like sleuthing, right? Come find me."
Jughead's lips rose into a smirk at Betty's challenge. "Don't worry," he promised. "I'll find you."