Archie arrived, as promised, at her little apartment the next day around noon. She'd spent the morning on her hands and knees with a soapy bucket, scrubbing every inch of the apartment until the morning light shimmered off every surface. This was something she'd learned from her mother; how to clean things properly.

The place looked almost new. It was a far cry from the space she'd moved into three days ago. Sure, she may not be much in the way of worldly possessions but at least she could breathe in relief knowing that she wasn't inhaling dust and 100 years of dirt.

Archie was carrying a plant. A dead plant. Well, not brown-dead. Wilting-dead. Dead enough that Betty wanted to take it off his hands right away and save the poor thing.

She made a mental note to not hand her baby off to Archie in the future.

"Oh, Betty!" Archie was smiling brightly again. It was as though he'd expected Betty to be lying about all of it and decide to slam the door right in his face, "Can I?" He motioned up the narrow staircase.

Once inside her apartment, Archie turned around in a small circle, his feet shuffling crescents of angles before he surveyed the whole space.

"It's…" He paused, and Betty waited for him to tactfully compliment it without saying much at all, "Small as shit."

She hadn't expected that. She let out a laugh. At least he was honest; she was getting the sense she could depend upon him for that.

"Sure is, but it's cheap," She agreed, taking the plat from his hands.

"Wanted to grab a nice wine, that's what you do, right, when someone moves in? But Dad suggested against it-,"

She watched his eyes carefully. If they darted downward, his dad would have told him. But they stayed roving over her space, meaning Archie likely assumed she didn't drink for other reasons. Perfectly fine.

"-So I decided on a plant, that's homey, right?"

This reminded her to water the poor thing. She stroked its petals as she gave the thirsty pot a glass of water, "And you chose the one that looks closest to death? You must have a lot of faith in me."

"It looked better yesterday," Archie said, shrugging haplessly, as though he had no idea what happened in between. Which, likely, he didn't, "Ah. Anyway. You hungry?"

"Starved," Betty said with a grin. Old Betty, Betty from before, even though she was hungry, would have lied. She would have gotten a salad or an appetizer, her mother's comments about her weight swirling in her mind.

But new Betty was eating for more than just herself. She had to be healthier. She had to be better.

"Great!" Archie literally fist-pumped the air, "C'mon! We want to get there before noon."

Betty let out a roll of laughter, "What, we need a reservation or something?"

"No, but it does get packed for the lunch rush. And I could wait, but I figured it would be a good…" He scratched his chin, where he had a mild rusty stubble, "Erm…it's like a waterholing hole. Everyone shows up. Figured it would be good to get the lay of the town. Point out everyone you ought to know."

"That's…a great idea, actually," Betty said, eyebrows knitting. Why spend months slowly garnering secret information on the town when she had a tour guide right here?

Archie tapped his head, "I have some intelligent thought, sometimes," He teased, "I may not have been the valedictorian or even the salutatorian!"

The way he spoke seemed to indicate there was going to be a 'but' after, however, it never came. Betty waited expectantly, but he just stood there, smiling.

"Oh!" She realized that was all he was saying, "Food?"

Archie clapped his hands, "Let's hit it."

XXX

Pop's was off the high pines of the highway, hidden behind a needled splendor. It was made for interlopers coming through, or those who got lost on these back roads, very a-la Twin Pines. However, it had become the town's spot, and as Archie predicted, they had trouble finding a place to squeeze his truck in the tightly knit parking lot.

"If you ever need a ride, by the way, just call. You have your license, right?" He asked.

"Oh, Archie, I won't steal your car," Betty rolled her eyes.

"It's not stealing, and I have company trucks. It's no issue for me to throw the keys your way here or there." He insisted, "Town's small enough anyway that most things are walkable, so I don't use it all too much."

She gnawed on her lip. It would be nice to find an IKEA or a thrift store and get some actual furniture in her place, and a truck bed would be a huge help…

Pop's was indeed just as packed as the parking lot. Betty was almost overwhelmed by it; the constant chatter, the hum of the ovens in the back, the gleam of the neon. She listened as denim squeaked against the rubbery booths, cutlery rattled against each other, and waitresses poured heavy cups of coffee into ceramic mugs.

As far as she could see, there weren't open seats.

"Ah!" Archie made a strange sound and darted away from her, managing to throw his arm out over two bar stool seats, not in the very front, but at the end of the 'U' curve, grabbing territory and glaring at a pair of elderly folk who almost beat him there, "Betty!" He yelled across the loud diner, "Come! Here!" She got the sense it was an urgent matter.

"You nearly beat that old lady off with her own umbrella," Betty teased.

"Yeah, if you took your old sweet time any longer, she would have beaten me," Archie said, "It's a jungle in here to get seats around this time. We're lucky I spotted these." He said with a wide grin.

Betty eased herself onto the bar seat. She couldn't remember the last time she'd partook in a retro diner. She had vague memories from one as a very young child, but it was too far back for her to pull the thought from her mind. There was something utterly comforting about this, however, something that set her immediately at peace.

A jolly man in a little white cap was making the rounds, and Archie waved him over.

"Pop!" He said. Betty took this to be 'The Pop' who had ownership of this joint. It warmed her to see someone still on the grind. This place seemed popular enough that he could have foisted responsibility off a manager and sat back with his riches, but from his grins, Betty imagined he enjoyed this. Plus, she liked to see that this town was made of hard workers. It made her feel like starting over was possible, not some far-flung dream only for those that already had an 'in'.

In her old life, Betty always had the 'in', either from her mother or father. But she didn't want to live like that anymore. Getting accidentally pregnant had been quite the catalyst, sure, but there had been a lot of frustration mounting slowly, by slowly. Betty imagined that, in time, she would have still forsaken the way she grew up.

Maybe all roads would have led to Riverdale, no matter what. She was just semi-grateful it was now and not after a huge mental meltdown ten years in the future.

There were a lot of regrets Betty had, but nothing about this situation was one. It felt like a blessing, a reason for her to finally see her mother and father who who they were and what they stood for and convince her to do the thing she'd wanted to do for years, but always was too afraid to do.

"Ah, Archie! You're early," He waggled a finger.

"I usually come after my shift," Archie explained to Betty, "It's a bit quieter at 7 pm."

Betty took this information in.

"Pop, meet Betty. She just moved here. I'm showing her the ropes," Archie turned back to Pop, waving a hand at her.

"This wouldn't be this mysterious girlfriend we've heard nothing about, would it?" Pop asked, a gleam in his eye.

Betty couldn't help but laugh, "No, no. Just a new friend."

"Ah, either way, welcome to Riverdale." Pop said, "Let me welcome you with a meal on the house."

Betty felt her face redden, "You don't have to, really."

Don't be dumb, accept it!

She hated being seen as non-capable. Even though she was divided, one part of her reminding her about her pitifully small nest egg in her pocket, the other side was horrified to take hand-outs. The last thing she wanted to be viewed as was unable, or needing of help. Well, not the last thing, but surely right behind not wanting to be seen as dumb.

"Trust me, you'll be back," Pop said with a grandfatherly wink, "I'll make the money back from you in time. Pop's is the best around."

"Fine, sure. I mean, what's good?" Betty asked. She wasn't a picky eater and so far it didn't seem her future kin was either. Morning sickness in general, sure, but nothing tied to specific foods. No odd cravings either. Sometimes, things were going so easily that Betty could almost…forget the real reason for leaving home.

"Everything," Archie and Pop said at the same time. Archie slapped his hand on the table, delighted, "Just give us two regulars, Pop." He decided.

Pop wrote something on his pad in such scribbled language that Betty couldn't even read it and put it in the window of the kitchen, "Enjoy, kids."

As soon as he was gone, someone down the bar waving him over, Archie leaned back and surveyed the crowd.

"Alright, okay…" He nudged Betty, motioning her toward the left, "That's Sherrif Keller over there. The man in charge."

"And?" Betty prompted, sending hesitation.

"I mean, I had a few run-ins with him in my wild youth," He joked, as though he wasn't still young, "So maybe I'm biased. I mean, he's nice. We just…don't see eye-to-eye."

"You?" Betty was genuinely surprised. Her 'All-American' image of Archie was crumpled a bit. His face was bright red.

"No felonies or anything. Just stupid shit," He insisted, "It's a great place to be old in, not a great place for teens. Bored easily." He explained, "Entertainment is usually drinking in the woods." He winked, "Not that I'd know anything about that. Ah! Okay, right there…" He motioned toward someone else, "That's our pharmacist, Dr. Doiley…"

They spent their time waiting for their food by pointing out various community members. Everyone ate here; rich, poor, jobless, on the job, community patrons, community slumps…it was truly a gathering place and gave Betty a good sense of the place she'd moved to. The general idea was that once she became a regular, people here would warm up and then offer the clothes off their backs if she needed it.

But it wouldn't happen right away.

"With me, though, well, my family's been here forever…" He chuckled, shrugging with mild pride, "So that'll help."

Their food came, two burgers with Pop's Secret Sauce, and two milkshakes. Archie's was vanilla, Betty's was strawberry. She was surprised at the difference.

"Seemed more your speed," The person handing their food said. It was someone else, different from Pop. Someone close to her age, maybe a smidge older. Dark hair, dark eyes, and a way that he held himself that was almost like he was trying not to seem as tall as he was. She caught a snake tattoo curling up his neck, though it was faded.

She recanted her guess of how old he must be; it didn't seem fresh, and unless Riverdale was out here tattooing thirteen-year-olds…

She stared at her drink, shrugging.

"He's right," She said, deciding to go for politeness rather than stubbornness, or demanding to know what made her different. She did prefer strawberry to vanilla, but it was weird he could just…tell that.

He smiled, though it wasn't as friendly as Pop's had been. More controlled.

"Yeah," He said, "I just know patrons."

Archie seemed a bit stiff, "Thanks, Jordan," He said, his tone clipped, clear that he was trying to be nice, but having a bit of difficulty. That surprised Betty too. She didn't think Archie had a mean bone in his body, so to hear such clear reservation made Betty wonder. Archie had even had kind things to say about Keller, a man who seemed to catch him more times than he'd gotten away in his youth.

Betty offered Jordan a pleasant smile, nothing overly infectious, but kind all the same.

As soon as he was at the other end of the bar, she turned, mouth open, but Archie shook his head.

"Later," He whispered, shaking himself out, "Just…enjoy the food, mkay?" He asked, tucking in.

Strange.

Betty frowned but didn't want to push her luck.

They fell into a comfortable conversation as they ate. They asked safe topics, or generally safe, such as interests and all that. When Archie brought up college, and if she'd finished early or was intending to her last semester here, Betty swallowed hard.

"No," She finally said, the words clogging in her throat. Leaving college had been the hardest thing. She'd always prided herself on her intelligence. Her parents had pounded it into her mind that she was only worth something with a degree. Leaving so close to the finish line had been…upsetting.

"Wouldn't you have graduated, though?" Archie asked, confused, trying to figure out the timeline.

"I was getting two degrees, so I was set back for another semester," Betty explained, "I mean, I guess technically I finished my communications degree, but…" But she didn't think that it would mean anything without formally graduating.

She wanted to finish both her degrees; communications and poly sci, one day. It wasn't something she'd given up hope on entirely. But without her parent's money, well, she'd have to pay herself. Even community college was out of the question right now.

"I don't even know what I'd go for if I went," Archie laughed, though it seemed to be a sore topic for him too, "If my dad was fine and if my mom was around…" He sipped his milkshake, "It's a good thing it wasn't in the cards. I mean," He snorted, "Football isn't a degree."

"There's thousands of degrees out there. You never know," Betty said, "Maybe you can look into it one day?"

Archie shrugged, clearly trying to seem unbothered, "Yeah. Sure. It's fine. My girlfriend is getting some fancy degree. I'm okay with being the trophy husband," He joked.

Betty was about to ask more about her; her name, where she went to school, how they met, but a loud clatter interrupted her question. Betty turned to see a group of boys and one girl in all-black near the edge of a booth. Jordan was near them, seemingly mildly frustrated, talking pointedly to the only female; someone with a streak of purple in their hair, gesticulating about something with sharp jabs and wide motions. Betty watched Archie's eyes track them like he was taking note of their movements, his jaw locked.

"Uhm, Arch?"

Archie turned back, rolling out his shoulders, "Sorry," He muttered. He sucked up the last of his milkshake, "I have a question, Betty, and I don't know how to ask without sound dickish?"

Betty snorted at his unexpected statement, "Uhm, hit me?"

"What do you plan to do here," Archie asked, "I saw that apartment, you're not rich, otherwise you'd be at the Pembroke. And you don't…pre-apply for jobs here, it's more circling shit on newspapers. So how do you plan to make money?"

Betty blanched a bit, "I hadn't really thought that far." She knew she was a smart girl possessing many capabilities, and hadn't been too frightened at job-hunting prospects, but now… "I'm guessing there's nothing that could really fit either of my degrees, huh?"

"We don't even have a newspaper," Archie guffawed, "We've basically merged with Greendale's. The Riverdale Register used to be a big thing, but when the owners died a few years back, it just never got picked up again. Their son was meant to run it, but he had bigger and better things to do, I guess. Left here soon as he was able. And I mean the mayor's office always has internships, but they're…unpaid," He scratched his head, "And they'd probably want that fancy degree."

Betty deflated a bit, "Yeah. I figured."

Archie was undeterred, however, "What about here? You good with customers?" He asked, motioning to Pop's, "I'm sure I could talk and get you a job as a waitress!"

Betty licked her lips, chuckling, "I've been told I'm offstandish."

"Yikes. Okay, nope…" Archie glanced around, "Squeamish at all?"

"Docotor's office?" Betty guessed. At least it would come with good neo-natal health care, she figured. Archie's face squished.

"Coroner's…and, actually, never mind. Curdle is sorta weird." He sucked in hard, "We just hired a receptionist at my place otherwise I'd offer it to you-,"

"It's fine, Archie," Betty insisted, reaching to pat his arm, "I can figure it out, really. There has to be…something in this town that pays enough to keep me afloat. Just for now."

Archie seemed mildly defeated, however, "Yeah, but you should like what you do," He said, pouting, "I want you to say and if you end up in a job you hate, you'll hightail it out of here faster than you can say 'Sweetriver'," He leaned back, "Erm…factory job producing maple syrup?"

"That…a big deal around here?" Betty had not missed the various maple-syrup-themed items to eat, more than usual.

"Our biggest export. You know Blossom Maple Syrup?"

Betty stared, "No way, that's here?" The red flowered packaging was just as famous as Mrs. Butterworth's. She knew it came from New York, vaguely, but somehow hadn't expected this tiny place to have something so noteworthy.

"Yeah…" Archie drew his word out, "Naw, never mind." He waved a hand, "We'll find something."

Archie dropped a tip on the table and they found themselves in the dewy air of a May afternoon. Not too hot yet, but enough so that Betty was surprised by the bomber jacket Archie wore.

The booth of ruffians from inside was now piling into a car, and Archie was laser-focused until they left the premises.

"Spill," Betty commanded, crossing her arms, "First Jordan, now them…" She shook her head.

Archie dug his Converse into a pile of dirt collected on the parkway and shoved his fists into his jacket pockets. He stared at the ground for a long moment. "It's really stupid," He finally said, "It's just…rivalry shit."

"Football? Do they go to…" Betty searched the name of the town next door, "Green…ville?"

"Greendale. And naw, Southside High. It's not like, a football rivalry. Their big sport is lacrosse and we don't even have that." He swallowed, "Keep in mind, Betty, it's really stupid. I mean I guess it isn't. I mean-,"

"Why don't you just explain, Arch," Betty said, already falling into a comfortable nick-name basis with him like she'd been friends with him much longer than just a weekend. Archie was easy to become friends with.

"So, some history, is that there's always been…blood between the North and Southside. It's just existed…forever. Our high school had more…well, everything, and I know that now. As a kid, it's easy to get a big head about shit."

"So…like West Side Story?" Betty asked.

"Is that a book?" Archie scratched his head, "I don't read much," He said apologetically.

"It's…ah, never mind. Go on."

"Right. Erm, around the time my dad was in high school, the South side had a gang, the Serpents. Big deal, lots of problems. It sort of…fell apart after my dad's senior year. Something about one-half of the Serpent's future heir bailing and the other one just sort of falling apart. It wasn't ever really how it was ever again. I mean, I shouldn't judge," Archie bit out his words, "My best friend's dad, FP, was a big part of it, and he's perfectly nice now. I dunno. Jug and I got in a big blow-out fight early in high school and he sort of tried to revive the Serpents. Like, go back to his roots? And it gained a little traction. They just…you know, graffitied, broke things, were rowdy. Other suspected drug trafficking, but I never saw it and Jughead promised they weren't. So it's more than just bad blood across the tracks, I just…" Archie sighed, "They just rub me the wrong way s'all. Reminds me of the worst year of my high school, when I wasn't talking to Jug. But the Serpents really don't exist anymore, ever since they tore down the trailer park."

"Did Jordan…" Betty trailed off, recalling the tattoo on his neck.

"He was Jughead's right hand. But he and his friend Franklin work at Pop's now and I guess I have to trust Pop. He's a good judge of character. And we all did dumb shit in high school, right?" He asked, but it was clear he didn't quite believe it, "I guess he seems better than most. The old crew sort of…linger around, making noise. Just annoying." He finished.

"So no actual drugs or gangs anymore?" Relief flooded her. She'd begun to worry that the problem with this picturesque small town was that it was all a drug-trafficking front, and all the stores were just money laundering businesses. Not an ideal place to raise any kids.

Archie gave a comforting smile, "Naw. Not for a really long time. Old grudges die hard." He said, "Told you it was stupid."

Betty shrugged, "I didn't grow up here, so I don't know. Seems like it was a big thing between you and Ju…" She knew he had a weird name, but didn't want to offend Archie by misusing it and calling him a different name, "Your friend."

"Yeah, yeah," Archie ran his fingers through his hair, still a bit anxious, still watching, "I just think they could be a little more polite. They disturb the peace."

Betty tried to hide her snort, "You sound like a crotchety old man."

Archie broke into a grin, raising his fists dramatically, "And stay off my lawn!" He teased in a grandpa-ish voice, "Guess I do." He admitted, returning to his usual tone, "I should be getting back to the construction zone. Want to see my day job? I'll grab you a newspaper to flip through."

"Sure," Betty said, since it beat sitting around alone in her apartment, twiddling her thumbs, "Maybe I'll get lucky. Find the perfect job."

Archie didn't seem to share her hopes, "Yeah, guess. Or just…something." He shrugged, as though any job would be good enough. But, I mean, there had to be openings…right? And Betty wasn't about to be picky. She was desperate, and desperate made good (stupid) workers. Every employer's dream.

Archie filled the space with conversation all the way to the site. He talked about how they were about to start a big new project, and how it would take a lot of his time up, but he was really excited because he hoped it would put Andrews Construction on the map, not just for Riverdale, but all over this constellation of tiny towns.

"It's over in Greendale," He explained, "And it's my first solo project. Dad thinks I'm finally ready," He announced, gleaming with pride, chest puffed out.

As promised, Archie bought her a copy of the Greendale Review at the nearest gas station, true to his word, though she imagined that he always was. If she wasn't already seeing Archie as just a good friend, with no sexual attraction, she had the passing thought that he'd be a good father in the sense that he'd teach a child to be fair, gentle, and kind (pointedly, all the things the person she'd slept with in a drunken mistake had not been).

She was introduced to Daisy, the new receptionist. A girl about her age. She was perfectly friendly, which irked Betty. She almost wished she was petty or bitchy, so Betty would have reason to be annoyed. Betty wondered if she'd left sooner…maybe she wouldn't need to search for a job.

No matter. Betty was not deterred easily. She took her red pen, settled in, and began to scan.