Betty opened the cooler by her feet and pulled out a small glass bottle of sparkling cider. She glimpsed back to Veronica, who was ogling the ripples of Archie's abs under his fitted t-shirt as he and Reggie set up a batch of fireworks.

"Are the sparklers already supposed to be burning?" Archie called out. He shook his hand in pain.

"I don't know, dude," Reggie grumbled. "These instructions are gibberish."

Veronica laughed and turned to Betty. "This is the life, isn't it, Bettykins? Cute boys and frothy drinks." She took a graceful sip from her own bottle. "What could be better?"

"It's certainly something," Betty murmured in reply.

She glanced around. They were sitting in a circle of folded lawn chairs on the soft patch of grass that ran along the cobblestone walkway in Archie's backyard. Several loops of outdoor string lights with filament bulbs hung above them. Music and wisps of conversation wafted in the background, the smell of smoke rich in the air.

Fred and Mary Andrews hosted a fourth of July barbecue every year, but the yard itself had long since been demarcated as the kids' area, with the adults usually congregating on the yellow two story's full-length back porch and the adjoining patio deck.

Betty looked up to see her parents clink their plastic champagne flutes between small talk with Kevin's dad. Her lips curled up, but the smile felt strained. A strange ache roiled through her stomach. I wish Jughead were here.

She'd wanted to invite him, of course. The Andrews were always accommodating of new faces. But Betty wasn't sure how the other guests would react to an outsider being there, or if it was a smart idea to bring Jughead anywhere near Chuck and his minions again. Worse was the chance her friends might say something nasty or belittle him. It had become abundantly clear during her recounting of their Twilight date during a trip to the Greendale mall the week prior that the girls weren't over the moon about Betty continuing to go out with a member of the Southside "riffraff." Josie sniffed and called Jughead a "rebound downgrade," while Cheryl insinuated he was using Betty as a way to case her parents' house and steal their electronics. Veronica and Midge weren't much better, labeling the romance a summer fling with an obvious expiration date. Their lack of enthusiasm had rattled Betty, but not so much she wasn't able to shrug it off. She was used to having to compartmentalize parts of herself with her friends. If that meant keeping her relationship with Jughead separate from the rest of her social life, so be it.

She exhaled and clutched the cold bottle tighter in her hands. It's better for everyone he had to work, she decided. You're seeing him tomorrow anyway.

Her mood lifted at that. She had their whole day planned out in her head, from the outfit she'd wear to what snacks and provisions she'd bring to Sweetwater. She hoped Jughead would be amenable to her idea of building a small campfire by the river. She'd already gathered he wasn't the kumbaya, outdoorsy type, but maybe if she sold the kindling of sparks as a romantic metaphor, or, better yet, as a way to broil hotdogs. Betty snorted into her hand. His appetite was bottomless and it amused her to no end how excitable he got about the prospect of food. She giggled harder, remembering how he'd polished off a healthy portion of her vanilla milkshake and fries the other night, wiping his mouth and shooting her one of those lopsided smirks that could melt her into a puddle.

"What's so funny?" Kevin asked her.

"Oh, nothing." Betty twirled at the end of her ponytail. "Just hoping Archie doesn't set himself on fire again."

"That was one time," Archie hollered back. "And Vegas distracted me."

"Keep blaming a golden retriever for your clumsiness, Andrews," Reggie ribbed.

Chuck looked up from filling his plate with the buffet of food on the patio table. "That won't work on the football field, bro," he needled him.

Betty stifled a groan when Josie immediately placed a hand on Chuck's broad chest and laughed like he'd told the funniest joke known to man. Could she be any more obvious? All while Chuck was still sending Betty not so surreptitious leers over the tray of freshly grilled hamburgers. She shuddered and angled her bare legs out of his line of vision.

"Whatever," Archie sulked.

"Don't worry, Archiekins," Veronica cooed. "I'll rub aloe all over your burns."

"Bet that's not all you'll rub," Kevin sing-songed.

The two of them tittered like schoolgirls and Betty rolled her eyes good-naturedly. She sipped from her drink, letting the tart apple taste bubble on her tongue.

Veronica leaned closer and appraised her. "You sure you don't want to come with us to Lodge Lodge for the rest of the long weekend, B?" She wagged her eyebrows at Betty. "Picture it: Jacuzzi, fully stocked bar, no parents."

"Archie and Veronica knocking boots on every surface imaginable," Kevin drawled.

Betty snickered and shook her head. "I told you, V, I'm hanging out with Jughead tomorrow." She fiddled with the tie of her gingham button-down blouse. "We have a whole day planned out."

"Mhm, that's right." Veronica's brow creased. "You and Southside's very own Holden Caulfield are going to while the afternoon away at the swimming hole."

Betty chewed on her bottom lip, wishing she hadn't told Veronica about Jughead's penchant for sardonic humor and love of books. Veronica had immediately dubbed him after that particular literary character, although Betty found the parallels a wee too surface level. Jughead had much more depth to him than an angsty prep-school expellee ranting against "phonies."

"I know you think he's some 'tortured youth' who broods too much—"

"I don't have anything against some good teenage brooding," Veronica cut her off. "I watch the CW as much as the next girl." Her voice lowered, her warm brown eyes searching Betty's. "It just doesn't seem very you, B."

Betty flushed, her eyes casting to the ground. She felt a stab of hurt in her chest that she tried to swallow down. So what if she had a sunny disposition most of the time? That didn't mean she wasn't allowed to be drawn to Jughead's darkly sarcastic demeanor, or the fact he could put her in stitches with a single wisecrack. Besides, there was something inherently sensitive about him, too, despite the cynical exterior. His world-weariness combined with a boyish sweetness that she found impossible not to be charmed by. But maybe it was hard to appreciate that about Jughead without really knowing him firsthand. Betty sighed. She loved Veronica like a sister, but she seemed to have a very specific conception of who Betty was, or what type of guy she ought to be into. It may have been a broader box than the rest of their friend group, but it was a box nonetheless.

Archie sauntered over before Betty could respond. He folded his arms around Veronica. "Hey ladies. Kevin."

Veronica snuggled into his touch, and Betty found herself softening. They framed each other well, and Veronica seemed so happy, it was hard to stay mad at her for long. Maybe with time, Betty hoped, she'll see the way Jughead and I banter together and think of us the same. It didn't hurt to be optimistic.

"Hi lover," Veronica purred.

"What's up?" Archie's face wore a genial grin. "You coming with us tomorrow, Betty? It's gonna be an epic weekend."

"No, sorry." Betty offered him an apologetic smile. "I have plans."

"What plans?" Chuck demanded, walking over with Josie scampering behind him.

Betty shot Veronica and Kevin a warning glance to keep silent. "Polly's coming home for the weekend," she fibbed. "The Blossoms have their annual banquet on Saturday."

Luckily, this part was true and explained Cheryl's absence from the gathering that evening.

"Hot older Cooper's going to be in town?" Reggie plopped down in one of the folding chairs, his food nearly flying off his plate. "Maybe I should stick around, too."

"She and Jason are still together, Reggie." Betty refrained from rolling her eyes. Reggie really was attracted to anything with legs.

"Lucky bastard." He took a huge bite of his burger, ketchup squirting an inch away from the sleeve of Kevin's blue linen dress shirt.

"I swear to god, Reggie, if you get my new button-down stained…"

The two of them began to bicker, and Betty closed her eyes, manifesting the peacefulness of the swimming hole and Jughead's teasing blue eyes glinting in the warm sunlight. Only 18 hours until she'd see him.

"We'll miss you, Betty," Archie said, jolting Betty back into the conversation.

"Me too," she hummed. "Another time."

Betty held tight as Jughead edged his bike to a stop next to a leafy grove of trees. She slowly unwrapped her arms from around him, one hand reaching up under the strap of her backpack to rub her left shoulder. It had been a bumpy ride through the unpaved gravel road in Fox Forest, and the heavy bag had bounced against her spine the whole way. Luckily, the swimming hole was empty, most people having cleared out before late afternoon hit.

Jughead flashed her a concerned look as he unstrapped his helmet from her chin. "You okay?"

"Yes." She smiled at him and slid the bag off her shoulder.

"What do you have in there anyway?"

"Supplies." Betty unzipped the bag and pulled out a folded-up woolen orange and gray plaid blanket.

Jughead grinned. He took the throw from her and spread it over a soft patch of dirt not far from the shore. Betty untied her floral Keds and placed them at the corners so the blanket wouldn't flutter in the warm afternoon breeze. Jughead did the same with his combat boots.

"Anything else?" he asked hopefully.

She arched her head to the side and appraised him. "Like what?"

Jughead smirked at her. "Of the snack variety?"

Betty's eyes twinkled. "You mean like this?" She opened the backpack wider to pull out a mini thermal bag. She unzipped it enough for him to catch a peek of the hotdogs, Hershey's chocolate bars, and marshmallows she'd packed inside. "And I have buns and graham crackers, too."

She looked up to meet Jughead's gaze. He was beaming at her like a puppy dog about to tackle its owner with kisses. "All this goodness for me?"

Betty felt her breath catch in her throat. "Dinner and dessert," she murmured. "I know how hungry you get."

Jughead's grin widened. He crossed his hands over his chest like an oath. "A woman after my own heart."

Betty giggled. "I'm glad I'm living up to your expectations."

"Oh, no, Betts." He winked at her, heat filling his gaze. "You're exceeding them."

Feeling emboldened by the fire in Jughead's eyes, Betty flicked the spaghetti straps of her denim romper down to her arms. Jughead's eyebrow kinked up in curiosity, but his stare never left hers. She shimmied out of the romper, letting it crumple into a puddle at her feet. She stepped out of it and peered back at Jughead. He was gawking at her, his eyes glued to the hint of light blue lace against her hips, and what was clearly not a bikini bottom.

"I figured you wouldn't bring a suit," she declared, trying to imbue her voice with much more coolness than she felt. In truth, her legs were shaking.

Jughead's lips pursed open, but he only nodded. His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat.

Betty closed her eyes and tossed her purpley-pink ribbed t-shirt off next. Jughead's gaze was still riveted on her when her lashes flitted open, although his mouth had dropped apart. His eyes skimmed over the lace overlay on the cups of her pale pink bra before glancing down. He swallowed, taking in her exposed stomach and the now fully visible lacy high-rise briefs.

"You…" He shook his head, unable to finish the thought. "Wow," he muttered to himself.

Betty's lips curved up at his reaction. She strolled to the water. She took a deep breath and dived in, swimming a graceful breaststroke to the rocks under the bridge overlooking the swimming hole.

When she resurfaced, she saw Jughead standing barefoot by the edge of the water. His head was cocked to the side, watching her.

"Aren't you coming in?" she goaded.

Jughead quickly ditched his jeans and faded gray t-shirt, nearly tripping over himself.

Betty giggled. "Nice boxers," she called.

Blue plaid. Somehow she had expected that, with all the flannel he wore. More enticing, though, was the view of Jughead shirtless. She loved the moles sprinkled over his slim chest, the light trail of hairs leading down his stomach, all accentuated by those strong, sinewy arms.

Jughead smirked and placed his beanie atop his clothes. He waded in after her. "Nice legs," he called back.

Betty laughed and dove under the water to wet her hair fully. A firm pair of arms wrapped around her waist when she re-emerged. Betty shivered, goosebumps rising on her skin.

"Hi," he whispered in her ear.

Betty wriggled lightly against him and Jughead loosened his grip so she could turn around to face him. Their legs mingled as they treaded water. "Hey."

"I think you were right." Jughead's blue eyes glittered under his wet lashes. "This place is much better without crowds."

Betty smiled. "Does that mean you'll agree to a race?" she taunted. "With no one here to watch you lose?"

"Tempting." Jughead offered her a mischievous grin. "But I think I'd rather splash you."

Before she knew what hit her, a gust of water was falling over her head. Betty sputtered. When her eyes squinted open, she saw Jughead swimming away and chuckling.

"I'm going to get you," she warned.

"I'm waiting, Cooper."

Betty plunged deeper into the water, chasing after him. She managed to ding his lower back and Jughead's doggy-paddle faltered, giving her enough time to dunk his head and shoulders underwater.

"Gotcha," she said when Jughead's head broke over the surface, water dripping down his temple.

Coughing, Jughead's eyes found hers. There was a playful gleam in them. "You had an unfair advantage."

Betty shook her head. She played fair and square to a fault. "What's that?"

His face broke into a broad smirk. "I wanted to be caught."

Betty bit her lip, sure she was blushing. The sun felt hotter on her cheeks. "Did you?"

"Oh yeah." Jughead's smirk widened as he reached for Betty's arms and strung them around his neck. "Because then I could do…" He purposefully trailed off, his eyes teasing her.

Betty's heart beat faster. "Do what?" she breathed.

"This." Jughead leaned forward, his mouth covering hers.

His lips were cold from the water, but warmth instantly spread through Betty's entire body when he kissed her. She felt lighter than air. Weightless. Her hands clasped together around his neck. One of his arms encircled her waist, the other paddling ripples in the water to keep them afloat. Jughead angled her closer, the tops of her breasts brushing against his bare chest. Betty parted her lips and Jughead's tongue found hers, caressing it softly. A little whine escaped Betty's throat, her nails digging into his shoulder blade. Jughead broke away and grinned at her. His lips moved to her neck, trailing featherlight kisses along the wet skin.

Betty's eyes fluttered shut when he began to nip at her pulse point. "Jug," she whimpered. She was so lost in his touch she was afraid of sinking to the bottom.

Jughead slowly released his grip. Her legs felt like jelly, but they instinctively began to move under the water. He glimpsed down at her, his lips curving up into a dreamy smile.

Betty exhaled a soft sigh. "I think you were lying when you said you weren't a fan of water."

Jughead guffawed. "What? Making out at the swimming hole? That was totally on my bucket list."

Betty's head tilted, her gaze coy. "What about making out more than once?"

She swam off before Jughead could respond, but she was sure he had that intoxicating smirk plastered on his pouty, pink lips. It didn't take him long to catch up to her.

They played in the water for another hour or so, splashing around and sharing long, eager kisses until they were both in danger of losing their balance and drifting down to the riverbed's depths.

When they got too tired to swim anymore, and Jughead complained of his stomach rumbling, they made their retreat. Betty clasped her arms together as she followed him out of the river, dripping water droplets along the dirt path back to the blanket. She pulled two towels out of her backpack and handed one to Jughead.

"You're really prepared," he chuckled.

Betty's lips curled up. "Obviously."

He smiled back at her, but his gaze soon fell to her trembling body. Her bra and panties were clinging to her wet skin, translucent in the glinting sunlight. Jughead's eyes darkened with want.

A warm blush spread over Betty's cheeks. His stare lingered and she shivered, forcing herself to turn away. Her legs wobbled as she patted herself down with the towel.

Betty snuck a peek back to Jughead. He had shaken himself dry and was now wringing out his hair. He grinned at her when he caught her staring.

She blushed harder and fumbled for her clothes. Although not fully dry, Betty slipped her t-shirt and romper back on. It was one thing to be almost naked in the water with Jughead, but her stomach fluttered at the thought of remaining unclothed with him on the blanket. Especially with the way he was looking at her. All she could think about was him pressing her against one of the trees, his mouth grazing her collarbone, gently sucking on the skin, kissing lower and lower until … She flushed bright red. She'd never done that before, always embarrassed by the idea of it, but with the way her body simmered in pleasure each time Jughead's tongue flicked against her pulse point, she could only wonder.

Another shiver ran through her, and Betty's nails curled into her palms. Anxious to give her hands something to do, she reached up to pull her ponytail down. She fluffed her wet hair with her fingers.

She glanced toward Jughead. He had copied her movements and pulled his clothes on, as well. Their eyes met as he adjusted his beanie.

He gazed at the wavy, tousled locks falling past her shoulders. "Your hair's pretty like that."

"Thanks." Betty gnawed at her bottom lip. "Should we make a campfire?"

"Sure."

They gathered branches and arranged them into a small pile. Betty struck a match. She settled back on the blanket and tore open the hot dog package. Jughead handed her a few twigs to cook them.

Betty laughed when Jughead stuffed nearly half of his first hot dog bun into his mouth. She felt herself relaxing further as they fell into a light and easy conversation.

After their second round of s'mores, Betty began to regale Jughead with anecdotes from her internship at the Register's offices.

"It's older than me, but he outright refuses to replace it," she relayed of her father's ancient Dell computer. Her voice took on Hal's professorial cadence. "Quality news runs on quality machines, Elizabeth."

Jughead snickered, but there was a faraway look in his eyes. All of a sudden he seemed pensive.

Betty studied him. "What are you thinking about?" she asked softly.

It took him a moment to answer. "I wish I could have more days like this." His eyes flickered, his voice thick. "Everything sort of goes away with you."

She traced a figure eight into the blanket. She knew he was leaving something unsaid. "But…?"

Jughead snorted quietly. "But then there's real shit."

Her voice was hushed. "Like what?"

Jughead sighed. His gaze fell to the ground. He picked up a pebble and juggled it in his hands. "My dad."

"You said he's not around much?"

He offered her a grunt of acknowledgement.

"You don't have to tell me."

Jughead's eyes rose to hers. His bottom lip quivered. She could almost read his thoughts. The instinct to remain an enigma versus the need to bare himself to her. To rip open a badly sutured wound.

He jerked his head, his eyes once again seeking hers. "No, I want to."

Betty gave a little nod.

"He's been drinking more lately," he told her. "Missing shifts, not paying bills." He glanced toward the swimming hole, his eyes narrowing as he watched the water foam over the river's stones. "I'm taking care of it, though."

She could see how much this responsibility weighed on him. That he'd had to grow up too fast, to handle things she couldn't even imagine. That no kid or teen should have to. A tiny piece of her heart splintered.

"I'm sorry, Jug." She brushed her pinky against his. "That sounds like so much pressure."

"Yeah." His fingers toyed with the blanket's fringes. He was quiet for several moments.

"But then there's you, Betts." He peered back at her, the corners of his mouth twisting up. "And you're like this sun. Bright, warm." His lips rose higher. "Everything's better when you're around."

Betty looped her arm through Jughead's and squeezed his elbow. She rested her head on his shoulder and stared out over the landscape.

"Does that make you my moon?" she joked lightly.

"Your moon, your stars, your constellations, even," Jughead countered.

Betty giggled. "Such a poet. Maybe you're writing in the wrong genre."

He managed a laugh. "And give up my novel? Never."

Betty smiled. "I know what you mean, though." She nuzzled her head deeper into his shoulder. "I feel different when I'm with you too. Freer almost. More adventurous."

"So you don't strip down to your skivvies with everyone you come in contact with?" Jughead teased her.

She blushed hard. "No. I guess I have a pretty buttoned-up persona." There was an edge to her tone when she added, "Sweet girl next door, Betty Cooper."

"And that's not you?" His voice was gentle but probing.

She lifted her head to meet his gaze. "That's not all of me."

Jughead's eyes constricted, examining her closer. "Who thinks it is?"

Betty could feel her neck flushing. "People at school, I guess. My friends."

He stared at her intently, prodding her open, peeling the layers of what she'd left unspoken.

"They don't really like it," she heard herself admitting, "me dating a Southside boy." Her voice dropped to a whisper, scared of his reaction. "They think it'll ruin my reputation."

"Oh." Jughead stiffened a little. His wrists crossed over each other, his knuckles tensing.

"They just need time to get used to the idea," she assured him.

Jughead didn't say anything at first, but his posture softened when Betty reached for his hand and laced their fingers together. She shot him her prettiest smile.

He offered her a half-smile back. "Yeah, maybe you're right."

A cool breeze passed by them. Betty glimpsed up. The sun had begun to set, and the sky was streaked with swirls of pink and orange. She shivered.

"Are you cold?"

"It's okay—" She quieted when she felt something snug covering her ears. His beanie. Her pulse raced a little faster and she glanced up at him, her cheeks warm from the soft glow in Jughead's eyes.

Betty tilted her head to the side, posing for him. "How do I look?"

"Cute." His voice was almost strangled. "Really cute."

She fingered the knit fabric. "You know, today's the first time I'm seeing you without it."

He grinned almost bashfully. "What can I say? I'm a weirdo."

Betty's hand reached up to stroke his jaw. "I don't mind weird." She placed a soft kiss on his lips. Jughead's hands came up to cup her face, and one gentle kiss turned into another, slow and tender and longing, until she felt lightheaded and like she could float away with the fire's embers.

When they finally broke apart, the fire was dying out. Little sparks danced above the tree bark. The sky had darkened to a deep shade of blue.

"We should probably head back," Jughead spoke up. He sounded as reluctant as she felt. "It's getting late."

"I don't want to go home yet." Betty looked at Jughead expectantly. She wanted him to take her somewhere, any place she could feel closer to him.

"Do you want to come over?" Jughead swallowed in a breath. "We can watch a movie, or something."

She could tell he was trying hard not to seem overeager at the possibility of bringing her back to his place. But his body was so obviously thrumming in anticipation. Her skin tingled in return.

"Yes," she agreed.