Betty stirred to the soft sound of someone rustling around her bedroom. Her eyelids flitted open. The thinnest sheen of pale blue light was rising through her second-story window, the gentle hum of a songbird wafting in from the branches of the large oak tree by the side of her parent's house.
She yawned and tilted her head to the window, making out Jughead's hunched form on the cushioned seat in the delicate early morning light.
"Juggie," she whispered. "What time is it?"
Jughead's footsteps as he padded over the floral pink carpet to the edge of her double bed were so quiet that only when he touched her did Betty realize he was now hovering above her. His hand brushed her forehead, ruffling the loose strands of hair by her temple.
"Shh, baby, it's still early. Go back to sleep."
Betty whimpered at the pet name. He didn't use it often, but the selective times he did always made her heart flutter like a star bursting open.
She blinked her eyes further apart and gazed up at him. Jughead was dressed in a white ribbed tank top, his jeans sitting low and unbuttoned around his waist. She squinted down to the carpet. He was wearing his socks, but his combat boots stood unlaced and waiting by the window.
"What are you doing?" she mumbled. "You don't need to go."
"I should really head out, Betts."
Betty rolled over onto her back, stretching her body out under the floral-patterned quilt. The creamy cotton sheets were cool against her skin. She was naked, she realized. The events of last night came rushing back to her—Jughead climbing up her window a little before midnight, using the ladder her dad kept by the garage for whenever the rain gutters got leaky. He tapped on the glass just as she was about to fall asleep, a devilish smirk on his face. She giggled and lifted the window pane for him. His lips were on hers in seconds, guiding her to the bed with a series of hushed yet frantic kisses. Clothes were discarded as quietly as possible, a condom rolled on, and then he was pushing inside her. She gasped as he began to thrust deeper. Eager to suppress the small, needy noises she made whenever she was close to coming undone, Jughead put his hand over her mouth to mask her moans.
She hummed happily, remembering how her body had tingled in so much pleasure that she'd bit into the calloused skin of Jughead's palm. He must have liked that, because he growled and thrust harder until they were both falling over the edge. Exhausted in the afterglow, they fell asleep wrapped in each other's arms.
Betty's eyelashes fluttered as Jughead's fingers stroked over her hair once more. I wish every night could end like that. And every morning start like this.
When Betty's eyes reopened, she saw Jughead had inched back over to the window seat. He crouched down to pull open the tongue and laces of his boots, and she whined softly in protest.
"No. Not yet."
Jughead's fingers dropped. He glimpsed up to smirk at her. "Can't get enough of me, can you?"
Pink circles crept onto Betty's cheeks, but she didn't deny it. Three weeks had passed since she'd had sex with Jughead for the first time, and they'd been going at it as often and as frequently as they could. Jughead teasingly complained to her one evening after an impromptu romp in the middle of his Twilight shift that she was making him insatiable, not to mention sloppy at work. Betty blushed as red as a lobster, but it was easily the same for her. Being with Jughead was like a drug. The sweetest possible kind. All she wanted was more and more. It scared her sometimes how much she craved his presence, even better his touch. How each precious moment alone with Jughead, purely physical or achingly intimate, felt like its own secret thrill. As if they were getting away with something delicious and forbidden.
That's why she hadn't been able to refuse him when he'd surprised her the night before and snuck in through her window. It was the last weekend before summer break officially ended, and who knew how many more opportunities like this they'd get before schoolwork and other responsibilities overwhelmed them? They had to make the most of the warm, fading days of summer while they could.
So as risky as it probably was to keep Jughead in her bed for even a little while longer, Betty couldn't bring herself to care. The pale streaks of sunlight peeking through the lace curtains wouldn't ease the feeling of thighs slick with want. Only Jughead. She needed him again.
"Don't go," she murmured.
Jughead's lips turned up into a smile as he stepped back toward her. He shook his head in amusement. "Your neighbors will be up soon. They'll see me leave."
Betty pouted. It was a sleepy Saturday morning on Labor Day weekend. No one in the neighborhood would be awake or bustling about for at least another hour.
She sat up against the arched, white-painted wood headboard, reaching out to tug at his arm. "Stay." The quilt fell to her waist, exposing her bare breasts, and Betty bit her lip, fixing Jughead with her best pleading eyes.
Jughead's throat rumbled with a groan. "Betty."
Despite the warning in his voice, she could see him starting to harden through his still unbuttoned jeans. The ache between her legs intensified.
"Please, Juggie," she whimpered. "Just a few more minutes."
"You're going to get us both in trouble," he muttered in mock irritation. "You know that?"
Betty snickered, hoping the playful glint in his eyes meant he wouldn't actually try to resist her. Sure enough, before she could get another breath out, his mouth was covering hers. He eased his way on top of her, pulling the blanket aside and pushing his jeans and boxers past his ankles. Jughead's hands roamed over her breasts, stopping to tweak her nipples, and then down her stomach. Betty shivered beneath him, reaching up to cradle his cheek and deepen the kiss. Jughead stroked her tongue with his, hissing quietly into her mouth when his fingers slipped between her thighs and he felt just how wet she already was.
"Is that all for me, Betts?" he asked gruffly.
"Yes," she breathed, panting harder when his finger circled her clit.
Jughead grinned and pressed another kiss to her lips. He broke off to find a condom from the small stash she'd started to keep in the drawer of her curved white bedside table. He rolled one on and positioned himself between her legs.
A soft moan escaped Betty's lips as Jughead plunged inside of her with a long and hard thrust. Her hands immediately wound around his waist, slipping under his tank top. She gasped as Jughead's weight bore down heavier on her, gripping onto the muscles of his back as he began to rock gently into her.
"Fuck, Betts." His eyes rolled back as she coated him in her arousal. "You always feel so damn good."
Betty whimpered, her nails digging into his shoulder blades. "You feel amazing, Jug."
He took her lips in a bruising kiss, his easy thrusts now growing faster, more demanding.
The sensation of Jughead filling her completely was dizzying. The force of his hips against hers was so intense that she had to break away from their kiss, letting out a loud mewl. Jughead grabbed her cheek, pressing his thumb between her lips to drown out her cries. Betty trembled all over, the pleasure buzzing from her head to her toes.
Jughead's thrusts grew more erratic as her body came undone around him and then he, too, found his release, jerking several times and spilling into her with a stuttered groan.
He let himself shudder on top of Betty for a few moments before catching his breath and pulling out of her. He wrapped the condom up in a tissue and tossed it in the waste bin under her vanity table.
Betty sank back against her peach-printed pillowcases in a warm haze, feeling so lightheaded and dreamy that she could almost fall right back asleep.
Jughead smiled tenderly at her as he grabbed his jeans and boxers from the knit pink rug by the foot of her bed and wrestled them back on.
Betty peered up at him through hooded lashes. "I wish we could stay in bed all day."
"As tempting as that sounds, I think Pop might have a choice word or two to say about it. Not to mention your parents."
She huffed and Jughead chuckled.
He bent down to retrieve the flannel she'd ripped off him the night before and tied it around his waist. He flashed her another grin as he pulled the beanie from his pocket and lowered it over his head.
Betty fluffed the blanket around her, but it was a poor substitute for Jughead's cuddles. "Remind me when you're at the diner again?"
She knew Jughead's work schedule as well as the faded crescent-shaped welts on her palms, but she wanted to prolong his departure, to milk the last few minutes they had together.
"I'm on the morning shift today and then the graveyard shift tonight."
"You're working so hard, Juggie."
He sighed in acknowledgement. "I want to get in as many hours as I can before school starts on Tuesday."
Betty's heart clenched. School. It was coming in three days and as excited as she should have been, all she felt was this odd sense of dread. She wasn't ready for their blissful bubble to puncture yet, for time together to become even more scarce.
Jughead finished lacing his boots and stood up. "You have your girls sleepover thing tonight, right?"
Betty nodded, chewing at her bottom lip. She wasn't particularly looking forward to it. The last few times she's hung out with her friends, they had just found new, old ways to insult Jughead. Still, the slumber party on the last Saturday night of summer was tradition. Maybe, hopefully, they would refrain for ceremony's sake.
"Try to have fun."
Jughead placed a lingering kiss on her forehead and Betty's lips curled up, leaning into his embrace like a cat basking in sunshine. "I'll do my best," she murmured.
"That's my girl."
Jughead winked at her before making his way to the window ledge. He pulled open the screen and climbed backwards over the throw pillows on the alcove to step onto the ladder.
"I'll see you as soon as I can, Betts," he called softly from the window.
And then, with a final smirk, he disappeared into the beckoning daylight.
Betty's fingers skimmed over the lingerie sets and other delicates laid out over the cream-colored floral bedspread and turned-down lavender sheets of Veronica's queen-sized ivory-upholstered bed.
She had arrived early to The Pembrooke for some one-on-one time at Veronica's request, and the two of them were lounging around her bedroom in their pajamas, examining the loot Veronica had brought back from her mother-daughter shopping trip in the city.
"This is really nice," Betty said. She held up a plum satin pajama set with a matching robe.
Veronica looked up from paging through a copy of Vogue from her perch on the lilac footboard. She hummed in agreement. "It'll be perfect when the weather gets a little cooler."
Betty lowered the garments back onto the bed, giggling as the soft bristles of Veronica's lavender shag rug tickled her toes. "I can't believe Hermione bought you all this. It's excessive, even for her."
"Yes, mi madre went a little crazy with Daddykin's credit card on this trip. I suspect he may be having an affair again."
Betty frowned. It was no secret Veronica's parents' marriage was volatile, but she felt bad for her friend all the same. "I'm sorry, V."
"Oh, it's fine." Veronica's pretty face took on a thoughtful expression as she placed the magazine down beside her. "This is just what they do. Unfortunately, Lodges don't divorce, so they're stuck in this never-ending loop."
"Do you wish they would?"
"Honestly?" Veronica's gaze met hers. "No. They may be locked in a game till death, but at least they're together."
Betty nodded. Kevin's parents were divorced and she knew how difficult it had been for him since his mom left town. "I understand."
Veronica smiled over at her, an affectionate gleam in her brown eyes. "I've missed you, B. I can't believe the summer's almost over."
A warm smile graced Betty's lips. "Me too, V."
Resistance to her dating Jughead aside, she had really missed confiding in her best friend these last few months. They'd always been the first to know about each other's crushes and family troubles, and it was so strange now not to be sharing with Veronica every detail of her new relationship. It made Betty feel shameful, like she was engaging in some terrible subterfuge instead of simply dating a boy she really liked. Maybe more than that even.
Betty shook away the thought. Her eyes cast down to her blue heather sleep shirt, her fingers fiddling with the drawstring of her pale yellow pajama shorts dotted with light blue and purple flowers.
Should I tell V about having sex with Jughead? It's been nearly a month. Maybe she'll be excited for me.
"Bettykins," Veronica chirped, distracting Betty from her musings. "Why don't you take something for yourself?"
"Oh, no, V, I can't."
"I insist." Veronica smoothed down the collar of her dark blue satin pajama set with turquoise lace trim. "Consider it a back-to-school present."
Betty glanced back at the bed, her gaze falling on a long-line balconette bra with a pink silk base layer and a black lace exterior. It came with a matching frilly black skirt with lace overlay. The lingerie was much sexier than her usual mix-and-match of pastel-colored bra and pantie sets, but for some reason she felt drawn to it. A rosy blush alighted on her cheeks imagining Jughead seeing her in it. And taking you out of it, the little voice in the back of her head teased. Betty's blush deepened.
She fingered the lace for a moment, before lifting the bra up for Veronica's inspection. "What about this?"
"Very sexy," Veronica said approvingly.
Betty bit her lip. "Do you think Jughead will like it?"
Veronica snorted, her eyebrows scrunching into a soft frown. "Maybe if it were made of black leather."
Betty's mouth quivered. So much for telling Veronica the truth. She dropped the bra back onto the bed like it had burned her. "You know there's more to him than his motorcycle club, V."
Her words must have come out more harshly than she intended because Veronica was quick to mollify.
"A poor joke, B," Veronica soothed. "That set is gorgeous. Any guy would adore you in it."
Betty sighed and averted her gaze. Her finger traced a zigzag over the nearer of Veronica's French-style silver bedside tables, her eyes watering in the soft glare of the matching clear glass lamps with lavender shades. She wasn't interested in any other guy. She wanted to tell Veronica that, too, but the words wedged in her throat.
"B?" Veronica prodded and Betty forced herself to glimpse up just as the doorbell buzzed. "Oh, Bettykins, can you get that? I'll bring the cocktails."
Betty nodded and followed Veronica dutifully out of her bedroom to open the front door. She greeted the other girls as they waltzed into the apartment. As always, Cheryl's gaze lifted to the wood-carved ceiling, as if to reassure herself that Thornhill's were still higher. Betty stifled an eye roll.
"Welcome, welcome." Veronica appeared from the kitchen with a tray of jalapeno margaritas and ushered the girls into the living room.
They seated themselves on the cream-colored sofa with a European oak frame and the two matching club chairs. Betty reached for one of the sofa's soft-hued throw pillows. She toyed with the silk tassels as Veronica deposited the drinks on the round black-marble-topped coffee table.
Veronica handed them each a glass before offering a toast. "Cheers, ladies. To a stupendous senior year."
The other girls took measured sips, while Betty's tongue peeked out to lick the sugar off the rim of her glass.
Cheryl leered at her. "Careful, Betty. Your welfare baby might like the plump look, but Chuck most certainly does not."
A chill of annoyance ran down her spine. "Who cares about him?"
Josie placed her glass back on the table. "He's still interested, you know. He told me. He says he really cares about you."
"That's so cute," Midge cooed.
Betty blanched. "When did he tell you that?" She glanced sharply at Josie, her agitation getting the better of her. "When you were hooking up?"
Veronica snickered into her glass.
Josie shot them both a dirty look. "Please, I'm so over that. Reggie and I have a thing now."
Betty gulped down a breath. "Okay, sorry."
The girls began to gossip in earnest over Josie's new dalliance, and Betty found herself rising from the couch toward the lavish six-seat dining room table behind them. She reached for a fistful of pretzel sticks from the snack bowls Veronica had requested Smithers set up, her other hand clutching onto the back of the wooden and ivory-upholstered chair to hold herself steady. She chewed the pretzels slowly, swallowing small bites.
"Do you think he'll invite you to homecoming?" she heard Veronica asking Josie.
Josie harrumphed. "If he knows what's good for him."
"Ooh, I can't wait for the dance," Midge trilled. "Moose told me Chuck's already planning this huge afterparty. He booked a suite at the Five Seasons."
"I adore that hotel." Veronica's eyes lifted to find Betty's. "Remember when we did a spa day there, B?"
"We could do another one the morning after," she proposed.
There was a spiteful glimmer in Cheryl's gaze as she watched Betty settle back into the sofa's corner. "Too bad you won't be able to come."
Veronica glared at her. "Cheryl, can we not?"
Betty's eyes narrowed. "Why not?"
"Well if you're still dating that ragamuffin, you can't bring him to homecoming." Cheryl twirled a silky strand of hair around her finger. "And I'm sure he won't let you attend without him. I hear criminals are the possessive type."
"Unless you dump him before like we've been telling you to," Josie grumbled.
"I highly doubt she'll get a date either way." Cheryl's crimson-painted talons tapped menacingly against her margarita glass. "No guy from school will touch you, little miss snakeskin, if they find out you've been traipsing around town with a Southside guy."
"Oh my god, and if you let him butter your muffin…" Josie broke down in titters.
A lump rose in Betty's throat but Veronica cut in before she could deny anything.
"She hasn't," Veronica insisted. "She only met him two months ago. Betty wouldn't do that." She turned to appraise Betty, her voice soft but probing. "You haven't had sex with him, right, B?"
Betty's face flushed, and she cast her gaze to the iridescent green cocktail. "No," she muttered. "Of course not."
Veronica studied her for a second longer, but ultimately nodded in acceptance. "See?"
"Please, Veronica," Cheryl hummed. "Where would they even do it?"
"In his trailer park?" Josie snorted. "Can you picture that? He probably doesn't even have a real bed."
"Where does he sleep then?" Midge asked with a confused expression.
Betty's lips pursed open to affirm that Jughead did indeed have a bed, but Cheryl steamrolled over her.
"Imagine losing it to that hobo," she sneered. "That would make you the bride of hobo."
The girls all began to giggle and Betty clamped her mouth shut. Tears pricked her eyes and she blinked them away, wishing that it were possible to evaporate.
A few moments later, Betty felt Veronica's sympathetic gaze on her. "You can always come to the dance with me and Archie, B."
As if the only possible thing I could be upset about right now is finding a homecoming date, Betty fumed. She stabbed her toes into the carpet and took a long, deep breath. Let it go, Betty. It's not worth fighting about. It's not as if school dances are Jughead's thing anyway.
"Thanks, V," she replied in a strangled voice, hoping the subject would now be dropped.
Cheryl, however, apparently had other ideas.
"I must say I'm perplexed you even care about the dance." She took a long, exaggerated sip of her cocktail. "Since you're spending all of your time with him now anyway."
Betty felt her cheeks flushing, unable to argue this point. She had distanced herself from her friends in the last few weeks, and not even the open wound of their rejection of Jughead was enough to staunch the guilt churning in her stomach over it. They'd been friends for all of high school, before that even, and she had never felt so far apart from them. It hurt. More maybe than she'd previously been willing to admit.
She gnawed at her bottom lip. "I still want us to spend our last homecoming together, Cher."
"Maybe you should do us all a favor then and dump him now," Josie muttered.
"Indeed." Cheryl crossed her legs and glowered at Betty. "It's better if this momentary bout of insanity culminates before classes resume."
"You did say it was only a summer fling," Midge piped up.
"I didn't—" she protested, but Veronica cut her off.
"Either way, B, it won't exactly be easy to make a relationship with him work when you're at different schools and barely have any time to see each other."
Betty's fingers curled into fists and before she could stop herself her nails were digging sharply into her palms, breaking open the skin.
"No," she murmured, as the dull pain swept over her. "It'll be hard."
Betty forced her fingers from her palms and clasped her hands together before they started to bleed. Please let acknowledging this be enough to appease them and get them off my back, she prayed. She really didn't want to talk about this with them anymore. Her head throbbed. Her insides felt like they had been ripped out at the seams. She fumbled for her drink and downed a large sip, grimacing at the mixture of sweet tequila and spicy pepper on her tongue. The alcohol only made her feel worse.
The night wore on, but Betty was too upset to make much conversation or join in when Veronica and Josie demanded an attentive audience for their karaoke battle. She tried to inhale soft breaths of air through her nose, but nothing helped. A permanent nausea seemed lodged in her throat.
A little before 11, her phone beeped. A message from Jughead. The knot in her stomach tightened.
Jughead: How's the sleepover going? Are you drinking ridiculous cocktails and/or braiding each other's hair?
Betty would have laughed at his teen movie stereotype of girls' slumber parties—and how not far off from the truth he was—but the corners of her mouth could barely lift into a smile. She typed out her answer slowly, feeling a twinge of guilt that her automatic response was to lie to him and pretend everything was fine.
Betty: It's okay.
She paused and then sent another message.
Betty: What are you up to?
It took Jughead a minute or two to answer and she stared at her screen the whole time, grasping onto the threads of their virtual conversation as if they were a life raft.
Jughead: Hanging out with the guys and Toni. Miss you.
Tears welled in her eyes and she surreptitiously wiped them away. But they soon fell stronger, until she was hiding her face behind a pillow. Jughead's sweetness only exacerbated the horrible pit in her stomach, and her knowledge that as shitty as her friend's comments were, they weren't wrong. Being with Jughead and finding time to see him would only get more difficult with school starting, not to mention place a further strain on her friendships. The weight of it altogether was too much; she felt like she was drowning in the deep end of a swimming pool.
Afraid she might hurt herself again if she didn't find something for her fingers to do, Betty shakily typed out another message. She sent the words over before she could stop herself.
Betty: I really wish you were here.
He must have sensed that she was upset, because his response wasn't its usual sarcastic or flirty, but serious.
Jughead: Is everything alright, Betts?
She bit the inside of her cheek, debating if to tell Jughead the truth. She settled on a terse, undetailed version of it.
Betty: Not really.
His response was almost immediate.
Jughead: Swing by Pop's early tomorrow before your friends wake up? You can always come back with breakfast ?.
A ghost of a smile formed on her lips. Of course, Jughead would suggest she use food as an excuse for sneaking out of the sleepover. Her friends would get hopping mad if they discovered the real reason, but Betty was too exhausted to care. She wouldn't feel normal again until she saw him. If she could just sit and rationalize everything out with him, maybe it would help. Maybe they'd find some magic solution together.
Betty: Okay, Juggie.