Jughead sat in the back of the stuffy Southside High classroom, numbly watching his teacher draw parabolas on the blackboard. He couldn't focus. He wanted to blame math for boring him out of his mind, but it wasn't that. It was her. Betty. Thoughts of her had him feeling like a stray sheepdog that had been kicked in the stomach.
His gaze turned to the wall-length, muntin-barred windows that lined the classroom, overlaid with dusty beige curtains. Staring at the school's rundown and graffiti-filled courtyard didn't help to distract him though; she was still lodged in his brain. Jughead muttered a string of curses under his breath. He kicked at the scuffed brown concrete tiling, grimacing when the plastic chair wobbled and squeaked underneath his weight.
"You good, man?" Sweet Pea's voice was a harsh whisper, not that the teacher droning on about limits with a piece of chalk in her hands was paying any attention.
Jughead gave a curt nod and picked up his abandoned ballpoint pen. He doodled angry squiggles into his beat-up notebook for a few minutes until his hand started to cramp. He tossed the pen aside with a frown.
He missed Betty. No, he really fucking missed Betty. It had been over a week since he'd spoken to her at Pop's and he'd been in a miserable funk ever since. Depressed and irritated and snapping at anyone who got even the slightest bit on his nerves.
How could she just move on? he griped to himself for the umpteenth time since he'd watched her settle uneasily into that cherry-red booth with Chuck. But then he wanted to hit himself in the face. Because as hurt as he was by Betty's apparent rejection, why should he have expected otherwise? It wasn't like they'd actually sat down and hashed out their issues, or that he'd told her outright he still wanted to be with her. Although shouldn't his stalking from a distance at least have been a little obvious?
Jughead scratched at his scalp under the beanie. Apparently not, idiot.
Even worse, she had been with that pompous asshole. Really, Betts? He wanted to shake her. Not that Jughead was exactly in a position to judge anyone for falling into the arms of a crafty ex. Hypocrite, he rebuked sullenly.
Jughead pressed his lips together and blew out a hot breath of air.
He hated that Betty was probably halfway back together with that tool, but he was also furious at himself for letting his resentment get the better of him. If he hadn't cut their conversation short and ordered Betty away, she probably wouldn't even have considered Chuck's invitation to their homecoming dance. And rather than actually waiting to see if she'd refuse and choose him instead, he'd stormed away like a toddler.
Jughead ground his foot into the floor, stretching out the worn black leather of his combat boots. He sighed. Maybe it was time he contemplated moving on, too?
You've done without a lot of things in your life, he reminded himself, tugging at the sleeve of his sheepskin flannel jacket. And you've lost a lot, too. What's one more?
Jughead nodded along to his inner monologue, but almost immediately, his blue eyes hardened. Sure, you moron, the mocking voice in his head scolded. Except you've never lost something that hurt this much.
The shrill bell rang, but Jughead barely noticed. He sat rigid and stared into space, adrift in his downward spiral of thoughts. Something you're dying to get back.
Sweet Pea glanced over at Jughead, shoving his calculus textbook into his backpack. He nudged his upper arm until Jughead looked up. "Ready for fuel?"
Jughead arched a sardonic eyebrow at Sweet Pea. "Actually I'm gonna sit alone." He held up the worn hardcover copy of Raymond Chandler's What We Talk about When We Talk about Love that he'd borrowed from the school library. It felt appropriately bleak. "Just, you know, finish my book and brood."
Sweet Pea shot him an unamused look. "Hilarious." He dragged Jughead up by the shoulders, despite his yelp in protest. "Let's go, Jonesy."
Jughead let out a groan as Sweet Pea marched him out of the emptying classroom and through the overcrowded hallway. His sarcasm had gotten worse in recent weeks. His sulking, too. It was probably—no, it was definitely—annoying the shit out of his friends.
They made it to the cafeteria doors and Sweet Pea pushed him through into the line for food. Jughead's body felt like it was on autopilot as he grabbed an orange plastic tray and ran it along the steel bars, stopping only to let the cafeteria workers fill his plate.
He followed after Sweet Pea to their usual lunch table, sinking into the metal chair with a heavy sigh. Only three more hours until he could go home.
"Hey, hey," Toni greeted as she and Fangs settled themselves across the table.
Jughead grunted in their direction.
"What's with grumpy?" Toni asked Sweet Pea.
"The usual." Sweet Pea wolfed down a large bite of his sandwich. "Pining after northside girl."
"She has a name," Jughead barked. "And I am not pining."
"Oh no?" Sweet Pea snorted. "What do you call it then?"
"Looks like pining to me," Fangs chimed in.
Jughead glowered at both of them before picking up his fork and shoveling a soggy mixture of mashed potatoes and creamed corn into his mouth.
Sweet Pea watched in amusement. "Well, whatever it is you're doing, it's not working."
"Yeah, no shit." Jughead stabbed at the slab of gray-looking meatloaf on his tray, swallowing a bite of it down with a scowl. "This slop has gotten even more disgusting," he complained, fruitlessly attempting to change the subject.
"Since when has that ever kept you from eating it?" Sweet Pea chuckled. "Damn, this Betty stuff is really messing with you.
Jughead's nostrils flared. And we're right back where we started.
Toni sipped from her water bottle, appraising Sweet Pea. "Personally, I think he should be trying to get over her."
Sweet Pea scoffed at her. "Look at the guy. He's clearly incapable of that."
Fangs nodded aggressively. "Bro has been down in the dumps without her for weeks."
"I'm sitting right here," Jughead muttered.
Sweet Pea ignored him, gesticulating toward Fangs. "You see? Even Fogarty knows what's what."
Toni shrugged. "It was just a suggestion."
"A bad one." Sweet Pea cracked his knuckles. "What Jug really needs is a plan to get her back."
"Enough, Sweet Pea," Jughead snapped loudly, startling his friends into silence. "It's hopeless, okay? The last time I saw her she was having dinner with her ex."
Sweet Pea's eyes widened. Jughead hadn't bothered to share this tidbit before, but it seemed as good a time as any to drop the bomb on them. Maybe they'd finally get off his back and let him mope in peace.
"Yeah, exactly," Jughead huffed. "She's probably back together with that dipshit already."
Sweet Pea frowned but refused to concede. "Like you're back together with Jess?"
"Ugh, please don't say that succubus's name out loud." Toni shuddered in distaste. "It's bad enough I had to watch her jam her tongue down Jughead's throat."
Jughead cringed at the hazy memory before glaring at Sweet Pea. "It's not the same."
Sweet Pea cocked an eyebrow up. "You're just being a coward."
"Yeah," Fangs cut in, before Jughead could offer a half-hearted protest. "Don't let the Northsiders win."
"That's very helpful, Fangs." Jughead rolled his eyes in irritation. "Thank you."
His phone buzzed a second later and he leapt at the distraction. Jughead tossed his fork down to fish the device out of the front pocket of his jeans.
"How about we drop this conversation until a quarter after never?" he snarked.
Toni snickered as he swiped open the screen. There was one new message—an anonymous text. Jughead's brow furrowed as he pulled it up.
Unknown number: Come to Riverdale High's homecoming dance tonight. 9 o'clock sharp. But for god's sake, wear a suit. Betty needs you.
The muscles in Jughead's jaw twitched, his stomach flipping over. Is this for real?
"Who is it?" Sweet Pea asked.
"No one." Jughead swallowed the lump in his throat. "Some prank." But his fingers were shaking as he placed the phone down beside his tray. Is Betty okay? Does she want me back?
"Let me see." Sweet Pea grabbed the phone before Jughead could stop him.
Sweet Pea read over the text, his eyes shining with glee as he passed the message on for Toni's and Fangs' perusal. He stared pointedly at Jughead next. "This is it, man. This is the plan. You have to go."
"Yeah, right," Jughead dismissed, but the knot in his stomach untwisted just a little bit. What did he have to lose?
"Come on, Jug," Sweet Pea urged. "Get the girl and humiliate those clowns."
Jughead scoffed, but he could already feel himself bending. What if it was real? What if Betty really did need him? What if she even missed him? He had been waiting for some grand gesture from her, but maybe this tangential message was a sign. Inwardly, his hopes soared that this was the chance he'd been waiting for to find Betty and fix things. Still, he kept a prickly exterior, afraid of betraying too much excitement.
"Where am I going to get a suit?" Jughead grumbled.
A glimmer shone in Toni's eye. "Leave that to me."
Jughead tugged at the knot of the gray checkered navy blue tie Toni had fastened around his neck an hour earlier. He felt like he was being strangled by it, along with the black wool suit he's borrowed from Toni's grandfather and that she'd spent most of the afternoon altering. Maybe it was just nerves, but christ did he hate formal wear.
At least he'd kept the beanie on. It made him feel remotely like himself.
Jughead flexed his fingers against the steering wheel and stared out the windshield. He was sitting in the far corner of Riverdale High School's parking lot. With cloudy skies and a forecast for rain, he had decided to forego his motorcycle and commandeer his dad's old truck for the occasion. Still, it stood out like a sore thumb among all the luxury cars and limos that had been rented for the dance.
You're doing this for Betty, he reminded himself. For both of you.
He stole out of the car, keeping in the shadows as he strode up the paved pathway toward the entrance of the unfamiliar high school. He'd never been there before, but he could already tell this sturdy brick building with functional outdoor lighting was a far cry from the dump that was Southside High.
Jughead ducked behind a large group of giggling, overdressed teens, following them up the cement steps and into the school's two sets of double doors. No ticket requests so far. That was one hurdle down.
Pockets of students roamed the halls, but most seemed headed in the direction of what he assumed was the gym. The path there was decorated in a fancy yet frivolous display of blue and yellow streamers and balloons. Jughead almost gagged at the school spirit. These Northsiders seemed to have far too much free time on their hands.
Jughead crept slowly along the hallway, his head tucked down. Aside from being beckoned here, he had no idea what the plan was. Just break into the dance, find Betty in a sea of unknown faces, and lure her into leaving with him? That seemed sure to fail. Well, the first part at least. Jughead was pretty confident in his persuasion skills, if not his stealthiness.
He dropped his pace as he approached the doors to the gym. A folding table was placed outside, manned by two students. Sure enough, a metal ticket box sat atop the royal blue tablecloth. Shit. What now?
His eyes narrowed, peering closer. He recognized the boy behind the table in a knit gray suit. Kevin, Betty's prissy friend. That was an opportunity. Maybe Jughead could sweet-talk him into letting Jughead in sans ticket. Although if memory served him correctly, the guy had such a stick up his ass, he'd probably start hyperventilating the second Jughead asked him for an "unsavory" favor. Not that he had much of a choice. It was either that or casing the entire three-story building for another way into the gym. Jughead sighed and stepped forward when he heard a bossy feminine voice behind him.
"There you are." A black stiletto heel tapped impatiently against the floor. "Finally."
Jughead whirled around to find himself standing opposite a short yet intimidating brunette in a long, shimmery black sequin dress and a black fur stole. Standing by her elbow was his old childhood buddy, Archie, wearing a burgundy blazer with black lapels and a black bowtie.
Archie bobbed his head at Jughead, but the unnamed girl seemed to be examining him like he was a scientific specimen. Her eyes trailed up over Jughead's suit pants to the stitching of his dark blue button-down, the only really nice dress shirt he owned.
"Not bad." She pursed her plum-painted lips together. "Couldn't ditch the ridiculous beanie though, I see."
Jughead snorted at her. Upon closer inspection, he recognized the girl. She was featured in a good number of the photographs he'd seen pasted to Betty's vanity mirror, although they had never been formally introduced.
"Do I know you?" he bit out. He didn't have time for interruptions, or for Betty's so-called friends to try to intimidate him into leaving without her.
"You should." Veronica surprised Jughead by holding her hand out to him for a firm shake. "Veronica Lodge, the V to Betty's B and her best friend. This is my boyfriend, Archie. I believe you're acquainted."
"Hey man." Archie grinned at him like a golden labrador who'd just retrieved a tennis ball. "Welcome."
Jughead nodded back in confusion. So they weren't here to stop him? Something didn't make sense.
He folded his arms over his chest and fixed his stare on Veronica. "Look, if you're here to give me a lecture about staying away from Betty or ruining her reputation, I'm not interested."
"Au contraire, Torombolo. We summoned you."
Jughead crooked up a disbelieving eyebrow. "You two did?"
"Well, I did." Veronica's voice lowered to a murmur. "She's been a mess."
Jughead frowned. Hearing that cut him deeper than he expected, but it also made his heart flip. He'd been miserable, too. He didn't want Betty to be, but if she was, that must mean she'd been missing him desperately, too. That showing up here tonight wasn't for naught.
"She feels awful about what happened between you." Veronica paused, skimming the toe of her heel against the recently buffed floor. "I do, too."
Jughead licked his tongue over his teeth. He assumed this was the closest to an apology he was going to get from her. But he wasn't really hopping mad or resentful anymore. If anything, he was just itching to talk to Betty. He'd never cared about anyone else's opinion on their relationship. Why should he start now? He just hoped Betty had learned to feel the same.
Veronica appraised him. "Do you love her?"
"Not a personal question at all," Jughead muttered under his breath.
Veronica didn't bat an eyelash at his sarcasm. She almost looked impressed. "Well, do you?"
Jughead swallowed but answered her defiantly. "Yeah, I do."
Veronica clapped her hands in glee. "You were right, Archiekins. They're each other's soulmates."
"I told you, Ronnie." Archie nodded happily like a bobblehead.
Jughead winced, sure the tips of his ears had tinged red. He coughed loudly to distract Veronica from starting to fantasize about a wedding. "So what's the game plan here, Lodge?"
Veronica offered Jughead a devilish smirk. She brushed her forefinger over her nose in Kevin's direction. He returned the signal, and subtly tossed them a ring of keys, which Archie caught effortlessly.
"After us," Veronica trilled, leading him down the hallway away from the gym's main entrance.
"Did I really need to wear a suit if we're not actually going into the dance?" Jughead grumbled.
"Oh, beanie boy, I was certain a voracious reader such as yourself would be familiar with the element of surprise." Veronica cocked an eyebrow up at him. "It adds so much spice to the plot, don't you think?"
"And romance?" Jughead quipped.
"Exactly!"
Veronica unlocked an unassuming wooden door and the three of them stepped inside. It was too dark at first to see much of anything, but Jughead could make out from the muted rumble of chatter and derivative pop music that they weren't far from the gym.
"The homecoming court is about to be announced," Veronica explained in a loud whisper, hustling them up a short flight of stairs until they reached what looked like a backstage area. "All the winners are already here."
"You're not one of them?" Jughead ribbed, earning a soft chuckle from Archie.
"I am," Veronica hurled back. "I'm just able to multitask. Hide here."
She motioned to one of the heavy velvet curtains demarcating the stage wings. Jughead huddled behind it as Veronica stepped out to join the others.
"On our cue," Archie told him, following after her.
This is insane, Jughead thought, sneaking a peek of the rest of the people gathered on stage. Why am I even going along with these two Mr. and Mrs. Smith cosplayers?
All rational thought soon flew out of his mind, though. His mouth staggered open, his gaze captivated by Betty in an off-the-shoulder pale blue dress. Even from a distance, she took his breath away. Jughead's eyes raked over the curves of her body, wishing it were his hands trailing across the soft, shimmering satin instead. His eyes lifted slowly to Betty's face. Her honey blonde hair had been straightened and was held back on one side with a silver barrette. She looked beautiful, her cheeks rosy, her lips a pretty berry color, but he could see the utter defeat in her eyes, a sadness only he recognized. Jughead's heart twinged, then pinged faster with annoyance when he noticed Chuck starting to fiddle with the corsage on her wrist. It may as well have been a handcuff. Betty frowned and fidgeted a half-inch away.
Jughead grit his teeth. I can't fucking take this. He pushed the curtain aside. Screw Veronica and Archie's plan. He needed to talk to her now.
Archie's eyes met his in warning. "Hold it, man," he mouthed.
Jughead's fingers curled into his fist, but reluctantly he waited. A few minutes passed. A tall man with small, round spectacles was intoning about the long history of the school's homecoming traditions. Jughead wanted to plug his ears. Betty was starting to look even more despondent.
Veronica suddenly materialized by his side. "Now," she said, giving him a little shove forward. "It's time to crush Chuckles."
Not needing to be told twice, Jughead strode forward with purpose.
"Betty," he said. Her name sounded as sweet as strawberries on his lips.
She startled, gawping at Jughead in disbelief, as if he were a mirage. He couldn't help but smirk at her stunned reaction. He took another step toward her.
"Can we talk?"
Betty's eyes softened, her mouth pursing open to respond when Chuck steamrolled over her.
"What the hell is he doing here?" Chuck demanded. He grabbed onto Betty's arm and twisted her away from Jughead's path.
Betty glared daggers at Chuck, shaking her wrist free from his grasp. "Let go of me," she hissed.
Jughead stepped forward protectively, but before he could reach Betty, a few snooty, popular-type girls in tight, low-cut dresses flocked over, gawking at him. He snorted to himself. They could clutch their pearls even tighter for all he cared.
"You can't be here, you unwashed miscreant," an irate redhead screeched at him. "You don't attend this school."
Jughead rolled his eyes, a few choice words on his tongue. Luckily, Veronica beat him to it.
"Oh, Cheryl, go stick that cheap rhinestone tiara up your ass," she spat.
Cheryl gasped. "How dare you?"
Veronica unclasped her stole and deliberately snapped the end of it across Cheryl's face. "Watch me."
Ignoring the catfight brewing, Jughead turned his attention back to Betty. Chuck was looming over her, hurling accusations and trying to loop her arm through his. Betty kept wriggling away.
Jughead's eyes narrowed with venom. He inched closer and tapped Chuck on the shoulder. Pointing his finger in Chuck's face, he snarled, "I'm going to give you the chance you never gave me."
Chuck appeared bewildered, until Jughead cocked back his elbow and punched him square in the jaw. It sent Chuck sprawling onto the wooden floor.
Jughead made a pained face and shook his bruised fist, but when he glimpsed back at Betty, it was with a self-satisfied smirk. "So, about that talk?"
Her lips ticked up momentarily, before fear crossed her eyes. "Jug—"
Jughead whirled around just in time to see Chuck staggering forward and lunging at him. He dodged a punch, Chuck's knuckles nicking his temple.
He readied himself for another blow, when Archie reemerged and body tackled Chuck, the pair of them toppling against the ruffled velvet curtain. It ripped apart with a loud tear, revealing the backstage to the entire gym.
Raucous exclamations sounded from the crowd, as the bespectacled man barked for the chaperones. Yet, all Jughead could focus on was Betty.
She was gaping at him—but not with displeasure, he was happy to note—as the mayhem spread. Jughead held her gaze, his mouth curving up tentatively. Betty's green eyes began to blow impossibly wide, filling with questions, and Jughead sucked in a breath. He hoped he had the answers to quiet them all. But that could wait until they were alone. Right now, he just wanted to whisk her away into the moonlight.
"Come with me?" he requested, holding his hand out to her.
She took it without hesitation and then they were sprinting down the stage steps and dodging a maze of people to make it out of the gym. Betty almost tripped on her high heels as they neared the exit, but Jughead held her steady, his fingers lacing snugly with hers. She glimpsed up at him gratefully, giggles soon bursting from her lips when she noticed the dozens of shocked eyes goggling at them, and then Jughead was laughing, too, both of them dizzy and breathless as they hightailed it out of there faster. He edged them through the double doors, slowing for a moment as Kevin passed Betty a shawl and umbrella, and then they were off again, running hand-in-hand through the empty hallway.
It was only when they reached the school steps that they broke apart from each other. Jughead gazed at Betty, panting heavily. She stared back, struggling to catch her breath. Neither said anything, each seemingly waiting for the other to speak first. Jughead cleared his throat, just as he felt a drop of water hit his forehead. He glanced up to the darkening sky before once again finding Betty's eyes. The soft drizzle of rain made them glisten even brighter. Jughead's lips crept up. She was so beautiful like this. He wanted to kiss her senseless, but he held himself back. There was still so much left unsaid.
Betty shivered at the intensity in his gaze. "How are you here?" she whispered.
"Veronica texted me," he explained. "She said you needed me."
Betty stared at him dumbfounded. "She did?"
"Yeah."
Her chin trembled. "And you came?"
"I did." Jughead smiled softly at her, hopefully.
Betty jerked her head in disbelief, as if still trying to process that he was here. A cold gust of wind blew over them and she shivered once more. On instinct, Jughead's arms rose to drape the sheer satin shawl over her shoulders, one hand lingering to brush a stray tendril of hair away from her cheek. It must have shaken loose in their running.
"I came by your place earlier," she murmured, her eyelashes fluttering when his fingers ghosted over her skin. "But you weren't there. And when I called, your phone was off. I thought you didn't…I thought we were done…" She trailed off, at a loss for words.
Jughead swallowed. She looked for me? His heart pulsed.
"My phone died," he said slowly. "I was figuring out the suit."
Betty's cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink as she checked him out. Jughead's mouth curled into a smirk when she bit down on her bottom lip, making Betty blush even harder.
"It was the best I could do," he offered.
"You look really handsome."
Jughead grinned boyishly at her, almost forgetting everything he had intended to say.
Betty smiled back, so sweetly, and he inched a step closer, but her hand came up to his tie to stop him. She toyed absently with the silk fabric, nibbling at her lip.
"Jughead." Her eyes were glassy with remorse, fixed on the mole by his right ear. "I'm so sorry I didn't stand up for you, that I let them get to me." She paused, her fingers knotting together anxiously. "I don't want to be that person anymore—someone who's weak, and afraid. You deserve better than that. I'm so sorry I disappointed you."
She looked so upset with herself that the last of Jughead's anger melted away. He lifted her chin to meet his gaze.
"We can't change the past, Betty, but I know you, and I know that you're so much stronger than all the white noise. The two of us are, together. But if we're in this, I need you to hold on with me. Don't let go."
"Jug," she whispered. Teardrops glittered in her eyes.
"Because I love you."
Betty let out a soft gasp, and Jughead reached for her hand, locking it with his. She didn't draw away.
"I want to take you somewhere," he told her. "Wait here for me?"
She smiled and twined their fingers together for a quick squeeze, humming her agreement.
Jughead grinned and scampered off, jogging through the rain toward his dad's truck. He scrambled inside and started the engine, driving a little too fast back to the school's entrance. When he arrived, Betty was on the landing waiting for him, a clear bubble umbrella raised over her head. Her lips curved up when she saw him, and she drew the umbrella closed, gliding down the steps to meet him. Jughead slid across the truck's bench seat to open the door for her and Betty climbed inside.
He glanced over at her, and she nodded, her eyes shining, urging him to go.
Jughead's foot pressed down on the gas pedal and without a second thought he was speeding toward Sweetwater River and the grassy embankment where they'd shared their first kiss. Memories of that night flooded his brain as they drove. The two of them on his motorcycle, Betty's arms wrapped around his waist, clutching onto him so tightly. She wasn't touching him now, her hands instead fluttering nervously in her lap, but the feeling in the air between them was just as potent. The same butterflies and adrenaline. Jughead prayed this night would end the same way, too. With the promise of more.
His heart was pounding when they reached the river. Betty climbed out of the truck and he followed after her, approaching the shore. The rain had slowed once more to a drizzle, but the satin fabric of her dress was still splotched with water. It was probably ruined, but Betty didn't seem to care. She gazed at Jughead expectantly, as if he were the only thing in the world that mattered.
"Jughead," she murmured, the slightest bit of trepidation in her voice. "Will you be mine again?"
His throat tightened with longing. "Only if you'll be mine, too."
Betty's face broke into an irrepressible smile. She tugged the corsage off her wrist and flung it into the river. Jughead watched, mesmerized, as it drifted away with the current.
"Juggie." Her eyes were full of emotion, but also adoration.
His breath hitched as he looked at her. "Yeah, Betts?"
"I love you, too."
Betty was in his arms before she could get the last word out, Jughead brushing his lips gently over hers. The kiss was warm and sweet and even better than he remembered. His hands lifted to cup her cheeks, pulling her in closer, already craving more. Her lips parted for him and she whimpered as his tongue slid inside her mouth, tangling eagerly with hers. God, he'd missed that sound. He'd missed everything.
Jughead groaned when Betty slowed their kisses, her fingers stroking tenderly at his jaw.
"You found me a second time," she whispered, her lips a tantalizing breath from his own.
Jughead smirked, his mouth sweeping back hungrily over hers. "I told you I would, didn't I?"
"You did." She kissed him harder, her arms threading around his neck. "And I promise to always find you back."