Sorry for the long haitus! I'm back now!
This chapter might answer some questions, but will probably give you some more to mull over hehe
Thanks for those who review: Boris Yeltsin, ButtonMashr, weircdream, Luvs2Read, Liliana-Lissa HathawayDavid97, and Guest
Luvs2Read: Nick won't pull the wool over your eyes, will he?
Guest: Sorry for taking so long! Exciting things are coming up!
We have a flair for the shade and the inbetween
We like to run with the wolves from the darker scene
When we turn the safety off, the shots are automatic
All our friends tell their friends we're so dramatic
We'll have you wrapped around our trigger finger
Queen bee yellow, you're the skin for our stinger
We'll make you swoon, make it hurt just a little
We're the boys and the girls and the freaks in the middle
-Freaks, Hawk in Paris
Down in the club, Betty beelined for the bar's counter. She chose a barstool far away from the generally gregarious club-goers, near the back where the neon didn't hurt her eyes so bad. Sweet Pea patted her shoulder.
"You going to be cool for now? I see a vampire over there I haven't seen since I was 12. Hasn't aged a day, of course. I think he might be from the 1950's...anyway, do you mind?"
Betty wordlessly shook her head, blinking as she attempted to hear Sweet Pea over the din of the heavy music and chatty people.
"I'll be back. Eat, stay there," Sweet Pea instructed, "Or, don't. I guess if you found the others, that would be fine too. Just...erm, whatever," He shrugged, nodding to her once more before vanishing between the sweaty bodies.
Betty called over the bartender, leaning over the bar's edge to talk to him without screaming. He was probably in college, with a lot of tattoos that Betty swore were moving. He had a necklace on with a runic symbol, but Betty didn't think too much about it.
"Hi, yeah, can I get some food? Erm, Nick St. Clair said you make a really good risotto?" She tilted her head, feeling strange and out of place, "I'm a friend of Veronica's…" She added when the bartender just looked at her.
"You don't seem the type, no offence." He said, snorting.
"I've been told." Betty replied coolly, She felt like she should be offended on Veronica's half.
The bartender just shrugged.
"To drink?"
"Uhm, just a Pepsi." Betty played nervously with her hair.
The bartender vanished for a little bit. In the meantime, Betty ran her fingers over her necklace, wishing Polly had needed her, so she could have gotten out of this. She looked around the room, but even when the haze cleared, she couldn't see any of her friends. It made her feel uneasy. She wasn't used to this sort of 'fun'. She didn't know how to dance very well despite being on the cheer team and the music playing really just hurt her head.
She didn't even realize how much time had elapsed with her staring out into the surge of dancing bodies until a plate was put in front of her, along with a tall glass of soda.
The bartender leaned in again.
"What type are you?" He asked.
"What?" Betty wasn't even sure what he was asking.
"Creature." He said.
"Witch...why?" Betty asked with a hint of suspicion.
"I'm making you a drink. Different herbs do different things for different creatures. Don't want to accidentally kill you, of course," The bartender replied, "You look miserable sitting there." He added.
Betty floundered, "You can't possibly think I'm 21."
"Oh, obviously not," He seemed nonplussed to be serving to underage teenager, "But you know Nick, and Nick would kill me if he saw you sulking here, having no fun. Literally."
"I don't need any of that," Betty frowned. Then again, she didn't want some poor soul to be killed because of her. She had no doubt he actually would kill. Humans to someone like him? Someone upwards of 200 years? She was sure they were all so...insignificant to him. What was one bartender to another? The fact that Sweet Pea held careful business with him, made himself useful more like, suddenly made sense.
"Goody two-shoes, eh?" He snorted, but continued mixing, his hand making the motions to stir a spoon without ever touching it, "Look, I promise you this will be the best thing you ever try. It has Mugwort."
He said it like she was supposed to know what that meant.
He saw her face and stopped his motions, "Are you sure you're a witch?"
"I've only had my powers...or know anything about this…for a month." Betty tasted her risotto. She didn't want to go as far as moan about how good it was, because Nick sorta rubbed her the wrong way, but it was really good.
"A month?" He asked suspiciously.
"Yeah, I was put on suppressants. Didn't know. I stopped using them this summer and…well...bam." She said by way of explanation, "What does Mugwort do?"
"Try it yourself," He asked with a hint of mirth, sliding something fruity toward her, "It also has Vodka in it, but I'm sure you know that."
Betty rolled her eyes, but realized the bartender wasn't going to leave until she tried it. She pressed her lips around the straw cautiously, taking a small sip.
Pure euphoria immediately floated over her, like she'd been dipped in pure sunlight. She gave the smirking barkeep an incredulous look, before taking a larger sip.
"Woah," She murmured, "So, different herbs...it's like drugs for different magics?" She asked.
"Uh-huh. Modern day potion making," The bartender said proudly, "It's one of the more fun jobs a guy like me can do, if you have a predilection for it."
"A guy like…" Betty frowned, but then watched as a vampire came up and ordered a drink. He paused to make it, and she saw him wave his hands over a drink, causing it to turn colors, before he handed it back to the female vampire, "You're a witch?" She demanded.
"Warlock. Do I look like a woman to you?" He frowned.
"But...I don't...it's...I was told only females were wizards." Betty finally said, feeling stupid and wishing Sweet Pea was here to explain it.
The bartender, and she finally caught sight of his name-tag (Tristain) gave her a funny look.
"What's your name, kid?"
"Betty Cooper." Betty replied, not understanding. This didn't seem to make things clearer, because Tristian still looked confused.
"Where did you say you were from again?"
"I didn't." Betty paused a beat, "Riverdale."
Something passed over his face. Betty had been under the impression that the only people who knew where her small town was weirdos or former members. But, even if he didn't say it, Tristain knew. She thinks she would have remembered him around. Maybe an aunt or cousin lived there?
"You take your mom's last name or something?"
"Erm, no. My dad's name is Cooper." Betty said, "What?" She demanded.
"Nothing. I just. Hmm…"
That didn't seem to answer her question at all, but his hadn't been answered either, as far as she saw.
He seemed to shrug off whatever his thought was. Before Betty could ask something else, Sweet Pea plopped down.
"Well, that was a time and a half." He said, running his fingers through his hair, "Ohh, what's that?"
"Can you even drink this?" Betty held her drink away from him, above her head, "It has Mugwort in it. Does that…"
"As long as it's not pure silver or wolfsbane, I'm good," He said, plucking it from her, "Mugwort doesn't have an effect on wolves. It's just booze to me." He said, sipping it, "Damn, that's so watered down. I'd need at least another shot for that to be enjoyable."
Betty snatched it back, feeling sort of protective about her drink and how fuzzy it was making her feel, and began eating with ernest. Sweet Pea ordered some 'wolf drink', but Betty was too busy scarfing down her food to watch it being made. She hoped she remembered to ask him later.
All too soon she was finished. As she considered ordering another item, like fries, she saw Veronica exit, giggling. Nick saw the pair over at the bar, nodding to Tristain.
"Good?" He asked, motioning to the empty plate in front of Betty.
"Enough," Betty said. Nick seemed to enjoy her barbed reply. Something told Betty he liked them to fight a little.
He jumped the bar, tapping Tristain on the shoulder, motioning something. Betty leaned forward, wishing she had magic hearing like Sweet Pea.
Someone tapped her shoulder.
She turned to see a boy, maybe a senior, standing behind her.
"Can I just say you're so gorgeous? Want to join me?" he asked.
Before Betty could kindly decline, Sweet Pea growled.
"Paws off, bud." He snapped, putting a hand on her knee, "She's taken."
The boy looked between them dubiously. However, he held up a hand, turning away. Betty wasn't sure he had bought it.
Betty felt eyes on the back of her neck and turned to see Nick watching them closely. Wanting to prove that she was taken, as not to be hit on by a Vampire, and feeling much freer than ever before, she grabbed Sweet Pea's hand. She felt like she was gliding, half-way to drunk or high, she was sure. Nick wasn't so obviously convinced in this moment, Betty could see it in his eyes.
"Let's dance." Betty asked, tilting her head toward Nick. Sweet Pea frowned, but then must have heard Nick talking behind him. He nodded.
"Ok."
XXxxXX
Jughead pushed the door to his dad's trailer open. He paused for a few seconds waiting for...well, he couldn't be sure. A bobby trap. An alarm. A monster. He wasn't sure. All he knew was that his dad had been very specific about not letting him here in years.
He glanced around, seeing no one around, and slipped inside. He used the flashlight on his phone, shining it around the familiar yet unfamiliar space.
Not much had changed since he was a child. Most of the furniture was the same, as far as he could recall. He realized he didn't have the most solid memories, other than flashes of feeling when he looked at the lumpy couch or the breakfast bar.
It was clean.
This, in itself, was something Jughead was not expecting.
He knew that his idea of his alcoholic problematic father was slowly dissolving, but this general cleanliness of the trailer shocked him. It wasn't the house of someone who didn't have their life together. It wasn't nice things, sure, but it was the house of an actual functioning member of society. The carpet looked like it had been vacuumed within the last week, the countertops brushed down, and all the food in the fridge was fresh. Sure, there was a 12 pack of beer and a liquor cabinet, but that was the only alcohol Jughead found.
He meticulously went through the trailer but found...nothing.
Nothing out of place, nothing damning, nothing unexpected. Nothing to explain how his dad was so put together, so thriving, but wouldn't accept Jughead back into his life.
This just made Jughead look harder. He kept one eye out the window, poised for the moment that his father would return and he'd have to make a hasty exit, or come up with a damn good reason as to why he was here.
What he realized was this was hyper-cleaned, like his dad did have something to hide and was doing a very good job of doing so. Not just that he'd cleaned it normally, no, this was a complete overhaul of the trailer to make it supiciously spic and span.
If it had been just normal clean, Jughead would have left it be, and ruminate it during the night from the safety of Archie's house or Sweet Pea's. It was this realization that spurred him to do one more very careful once over.
In the trash can, buried beneath cotton-swabs, floss, and the general bathroom garbage, he found hair.
It wasn't human hair, at least, he was pretty sure. It was thick and wiry, like an animal's. But, it was the same color as his dad's head. This in itself caused him to pause, to run his fingers along the strands.
No, even if his dad hadn't showered in a month, for sure not human hair.
He wasn't sure what it was, frankly. A dog? He knew his dad had a gang pet, Hotdog, but that yappy little thing sure as hell didn't have fur like this.
He tucked the hair into a Kleenex and exited. He made it back to Sweet Pea's trailer just as his dad entered the clearing again.
He went into his room, setting the little bundle of hair on his desk. He sat, staring at it for eons. His palms over his lips, a deep-set scowl on his face, he stared, trying to make sense of it. He tried google, to little help. He compared pictures of human hair against dog's against wolves, but it all seemed so useless.
Finally, he pulled out his phone. He scrolled to a name on his contacts, but just hovered his finger over it for a beat, wondering if he was really this desperate.
From his window, he could see movement in his father's trailer.
Yes, he was that desperate.
The ling run, until the other person picked up.
Jughead gave a deep sigh, reminding himself that he was out of other options.
"Hey, Dilton? I have something here for you to look at...yeah, can I come to your place?"
XXxxXX
As Sweet Pea led them to the middle of the dance floor, Betty tried to keep a respectable distance between them. Her dance moves were pulled from old music videos and High School Musical, but she sure as hell wasn't going to do what everyone else was doing. Grinding and, erm, well she didn't want to think about other things.
"We're going to have to do better than this," Sweet Pea said, tugging Betty up close to him, "No room for Jesus when Nick's watching," He whispered in a low, dulcet town, right against her ear.
"But-,"
"Relax. I'm not going to do anything untoward," He swore, linking his fingers in hers, "Just for show."
"This is more than show," Betty murmured back, inches away from Sweet Pea's chest.
"Acting. Look at the other couples," He said, "This is a place of sin, Cooper. Really, I won't touch anything away from this area," He said, running his palms over a square inch of skin at the dip in her back, not on her ass at all, "Or here," he said, wrapping his arms around her neck, but never touching her chest.
"Fine," Betty agreed, nodding, "But I'm sure as not going to do...that," She said distastefully, wincing at a twerking and gyrating pair near them.
"That's fine. Just move a little, dance."
"That's not dancing," Betty argued.
"Wiggle," he said in exasperation, "And just let me," His breath was hot on her neck. She couldn't help it, she shivered.
She had thought about Sweet Pea as a romantic partner once or twice, especially with how close she was to him. It was moments like this she was really thinking about it, about how her body was betraying her. Then, she thought of Jughead and she pulled back, just an inch, just before doing something she regretted.
She wished Jughead was here. She'd gladly dance with him.
She tried to focus on the scene around her. Vampires drank from necks as they danced, witches bewitched their partners, wolves howled on beat to the sound. There were also other creatures, ones Betty didn't recognize right away, doing equally magical things. It all felt very surreal. It was something out of a horror film, but so very real. No one looked above the physical age of 25 here, but she knew half the vampires in this room were likely hundreds of years old.
There was something enjoyable about being so surrounded by magic. It settled on her skin like a jacket, and she began to like dancing just a bit more, as she let the dizzying effects of the communal magic in the room wrap around her, intoxicating and heavy. It was like that magic mainframe Sweet Pea had talked about, but pulled down to earth, so present that she couldn't help but feel it literally everywhere. The drunken feel of everyone's own pleasure was seeping into it, causing her to forget how much she hated dancing or how uncomfortable her shoes were.
After what could have been moments or hours, Betty felt someone's hands on her shoulders. She spun to see Kevin, sweating, but grinning.
"I fucking love magic," He breathed, "I'm so jealous of you all," He said, shaking his head. Sweet Pea stepped back, inhaling hard.
"I'm getting a drink. Want anything?" He asked Betty.
"I'll come too!"
"Nuh-uh! I'm going to dance with one of my best friends, before you vanish never to return to the dance floor," Kevin said dramatically.
"Where's Joaquin? Josie?"
"Joaquin's in the bathroom, Josie is flirting up a storm with another siren in the corner over there." Kevin said, "C'mon, please?"
Betty bit her lip, nodding, "Okay, fine."
Kevin's face brightened, and he swung Betty around, difficult to do in the tightly-knit crowd, eliciting a giggle from Betty she couldn't control. Sweet Pea nodded to Betty, his smile not quite reaching his eyes, before going back toward the bar. Betty, almost wanting to follow him, was distracted as Kevin grabbed her back.
Whatever was eating him was not her problem.
XXxxXX
"Hey, bud," Fred knocked on his son's door, "You ok? You hardly ate anything at dinner."
Archie looked up, strumming his knuckles lightly over his guitar, biting back a sigh.
"Just not hungry," He mumbled.
His dad paused, leaning on the threshold, "You haven't been hungry for awhile."
Archie gave a half-hearted shrug. He blinked, but was sure he didn't close his eyes for too long. When he did, he saw fangs. Blood. Snapping. Jaws. He saw nothing but wolves and horrible creatures and death every time he walked outside.
His dad took in a sigh, letting it out very slowly.
"I also saw this in the trash outside," He held up the cursed wolf mask, "I thought you loved being the wolf-man. You were this four years in a row for Halloween."
"I'm nearly sixteen, too old for Halloween," Archie said, but very pointedly did not look at the mask.
"Okay, sure, but don't you want to keep it?"
When Archie didn't answer, his dad nodded to himself. "Okay, I'll give it to Goodwill. Still a perfectly good mask."
Archie swallowed, pressing a palm to his eye sockets, willing the images away. He'd do anything to return to normalcy. To understand what the heck was going on with him.
"You know...you can tell me anything. No matter what, I'd support you," Fred started quietly, "Drugs, alcholhol, sex-,"
"Dad," Archie groaned, exasperated.
"I'm just saying, I want to be a cool dad. I won't fly off the handle, whatever it is. We can work it out together." Fred said.
Archie looked up, considering it. His eyes traveled down to the mask, and he hunched his shoulders, preparing for the worst and...nothing. His eyebrows wrinkled in confusion.
"Have you…" He began. His dad leaned forward with interest, trying not to look too pleased Archie was perhaps confiding, "Do you ever…"
Archie struggled to formulate a question that wouldn't make him sound absolute bat-shit crazy.
In the end, he thought against it.
"I'm fine. Not fine, just in funk," Archie finally said, forcing a smile. His dad visibly deflated, "I just need to sleep more or get through this week or something." He tried to sound convincingly fine.
His dad almost pressed the issue. Instead, Fred just looked at Archie warily.
"If you're su-,"
"Absolutely."
His dad did not ask another question.
XXxxXX
Sweet Pea downed another shot in one take, watching through the crowd as Joaquin joined Betty and Kevin, and the trio began dancing much less sexually than before. He turned away, trying to forget the smell of Betty's shampoo, or the feel of her small hands on his shoulders.
He should have known. He should have been able to predict this colossal mistake, but he had been just worried about Nick. About protecting Betty.
And now, now? Now he couldn't get her out of his mind.
"Someone's drinking like a sailor," Veronica said, sliding up next to him. She looked at the three shot glasses next to him.
"We're supposed to enjoy this night, right?" He asked, flashing a grin.
Veronica looked not very convinced. His eyes, despite all his efforts, couldn't stop going back to Betty. Betty, who wasn't his. Betty who he needed to cleanse himself of, otherwise he'd be miserable for weeks.
"I think," She began, following his gaze, "You're doing all you can to not think about Betty Cooper."
"You're nuts."
"Oh please," Veronica scoffed, "I see how you look at her. It's so obvious."
"Nothing is obvious. You have no idea about anything,``he snapped, turning around and waving Tristain down again.
Tristain gave Veronica a glass of red wine, nudging the drink list to Sweet Pea.
"Then stop looking like she stomped on your heart."
Sweet Pea sucked in through his teeth.
"She's happy now, with Jug." Veronica continued, "Are you really going to ruin that?"
"No, of course not," Sweet Pea said, angry he was even discussing this with her, "I wouldn't ever..not to her...not as much as I…" He trailed off.
Veronica grinned over the rim of her glass, humming quietly, "You're a catch, Sweet Pea. Any of these girls here would love to throw themselves at you."
"I would say thanks, but that's sort of weird to hear you say."
"Take the damn compliment," Veronica said, downing her glass, rolling her eyes, "But I'm glad to hear that you...well, you know," She waved a hand toward Betty, "Because if you hurt her, I'll end you."
After a moment of Sweet Pea just looking at her, unsure of how to respond, Veronica laughed.
"God, I'm joking. Not really, I will hurt you if you hurt her, but you just looked," Veronica giggled into her palm, "Let's dance."
"Uhm, I think I'm good."
"Not like that, actually dance-dance," Veronica said, "All of us. Not a care in the world. Josie!" She said, waving a hand to her friend across the club.
"No 'fence, Lodge, but people here don't seem to be into that. They seem to be into sex-without-actual-sex on the dancefloor."
"They will be," Veronica said, very aggressively grasping Sweet Pea's arm, "I don't know if you know this about me, but I'm a trendsetter. You'll see."
XXxxXX
"Well," Dilton said, using his handheld magnifying glass as he rubbed through the hair lying on his desk, "It's not human."
"I figured that much out," Jughead said, crossing his arms, "What animal. I thought maybe a dog?"
Dilton picked up a strand, holding it to the light.
"You're not entirely wrong," Dilton said, but seemed far-away, still looking at it.
"The thickness of it, however, well, it would have to be the size of a bear." Jughead continued, more or less because Dilton wasn't talking.
"Also, still not wrong," Dilton said. He was taping it in a journal now. God, they were crazy. He was crazy. Maybe Jughead was crazy too?
"Dilton-," Jughead snapped his fingers in front of the boy's face.
"I think you already know what it is," Dilton said, pushing his glasses up his nose, "But you want to hear me say it first, don't you?"
Jughead stayed silent, locking his jaw.
Dilton gave a near kind smile, "I've been the town crazy for a long time. It's fine. I will, but it's nice to know that you're on my side now."
"Hang on, hang on," Jughead held up a firm hand, "I'm not on 'your side'. You think alien abductions are real."
"They very well could be. If you look at the-," Dilton cut himself off with a deep sigh, inhaling and drawing his thoughts back, "Not the time or place. This is different. This is a secret no one else is talking about."
"Wolves. Really big fucking wolves." Jughead said, feeling stupid dancing around it all, "I don't know why my dad would have it in his trashbin, though, or have these things in his house, even."
Dilton sent a narrowed look to Jughead, "Oh, come on now, you're leaving out something important. Something that makes it all make sense."
"Absolutely not," Jughead gave a firm shake of his head, "It's just stories...isn't it?" He asked, feeling his voice turn up at the end, desperate to be confirmed sane. Though, he doubted he'd get such assurances from Dilton.
"Werewolves," Dilton said brazenly, and Jughead flinched, like the word itself would summon a hoard into the bedroom.
"It's crazy...that's not...I don't…" Jughead wheezed, but was unable to finish a sentence.
"You've already begun to think about it. I have a friend who works at the library, knows what you've been checking out there," Dilton said, grinning, "It's finally good to have someone else who believes too."
Jughead grabbed his messenger bag off the ground, "I don't believe," he said flatly, "Sorry, it was a mistake to come here. It's probably a very reasonable explanation about it all. Uhm, you can keep that, though." Jughead said, desperate for a hasty way out.
"Sure," Ditlon said, sounding still far too chipper, "It's a hard pill to swallow. But, when you've realized that the strangest things in life are true, come find me again. Then, we'll talk."
Jughead registered he made a vague sound, something maybe like a confirmation, before he was slamming the door of the Doiley's house. Outside, he got three steps before his legs collapsed underneath him.
He sat on their lawn, clutching his chest. Was he having a panic attack? Was this happening? Was he waking up from a coma, something to explain this awful nightmare?
He rubbed the back of his head, and then he ran his fingers along the still-soft scar from the forest.
A wolf, standing over him. A wolf with familiar eyes. Too familiar. Almost human. Eyes he'd seen somewhere before.
But he couldn't remember where.
Jughead felt like he was on the precipice of a cliff, and he was inches from tumbling over, never to be seen again.
XXxxXX
The group collapsed on a set of couches off the dance floor, boneless and sweaty. Betty was loathe to admit it, but she'd actually been having a lot of fun. Once Veronica took charge of the dance floor and made it less a humping session and more an actual dance party, and the pressure to be 'sexy' with boys was lifted from Betty's shoulders, she had found a freeing joy in dancing. She wasn't the best out there; hardly. Veronic and Josie had a natural shift to their heels and sway to their hips, one Betty doubted she could replicate. Even Sweet Pea was fast on his feet. Kevin, naturally, was far too good at quick spins and musical-sequences turns. Betty's one sense of relief was she wasn't the worst dancer. Joaquin was absolutely pants at it; his whole body wasn't meant for dancing and he stumbled about like a bear- err, wolf- in a china shop.
Still, he'd danced without care, prompting Betty to do the same. She'd forgotten a lot of her woes and worries and even found herself singing some of the songs that came on. Veronica had squealed with happiness to see her move, and Betty couldn't remember a time she felt closer to her friend.
Now, as they sank into the cushions for a much needed break, Josie was encouraging everyone to drink bottles of water laid out. She herself had already drank two entire bottles. Betty wondered if it was a siren thing. Did she always need to be well hydrated or wet in some way? She filed it in her every-growing list of questions. She'd ask it here and now, but she wasn't sure how far Nick's spell on V went, and she didn't want to seem impolite.
"Drink it! Especially you, Veronica, you basically left your body on the dance floor." Josie said, nudging the dark haired girl.
"Aww, she's the mom friend," Joaquin said, looking more smiley and happy than Betty had ever seen him.
"I'll take that as a compliment. Drink," She instructed, uncapping a third bottle.
"I wish I could sometimes. Leave my body," Veronica said, running her fingers in her hair, "Or, just Riverdale. Come back here. Lordy, I used to practically live here."
"With Nick?" Betty asked uneasily.
"He was always open to my presence, yes," Veronica winked.
"Is it helping to be back here, or just making you miss your home?" Kevin asked.
"I…" Veronica looked down. Her eyes flickered to the group, "When my dad got arrested, the police, the layers, the judge, the courts they took everything from us. Our houses, our cars, our club memberships, our yacht and I'm not even kidding- the clothes off our backs." She gave a sad smile, "My mom told me not to cry. Because there's one thing that no one could ever take from me."
"Your slight annoying personality?" Sweet Pea asked, but gave her a fleeting smile to let her know he was joking.. mostly. Josie huffed, but Veronica nudged his arm in a friendly manner.
"My name. More than that, my legacy. I'm a Lodge. With money, without money...being a Lodge still means something."
Sweet Pea looked at Betty, just for a second, lips almost pulling into a frown. If only Veronica truly knew, Betty agreed.
"I guess my point is that New York might be where I grew up, and I miss it, but New York has nothing for me anymore."
"So, you miss your mom and dad," Betty deducted.
"I do, but I'm still angry at my mom. However, coming back here makes me even more confused about what happened, how I sighed that...well,, I'm not going to get into it." Veronica said, clamming up slightly.
As there was a quiet lull in the conversation, Veronica's phone buzzed. She glanced down at the text, laughing slightly.
"V?"
"My mom. She's put out her feelers for me. Starting to ask around. Nick just texted me. She called his dad. Says she's thinking about calling the cops. And there it is."
"There...what is?" Sweet Pea asked, squinting.
"The olive branch."
"How is threatening to call the cops on you a sign of peace?" Kevin asked.
"It's how us Lodge women fight. We rarely go full-blown out. We're more subtle." Veronica stood, gathering her things, "I think this means she's ready to talk."
"Are we leaving?" Betty asked, trying not to sound disappointed.
"The night is still a little young," Josie nudged her, "Maybe another hour?"
Veronica grinned.
"Hermione Lodge can wait for just a little bit more."
Once again, sorry for the long wait! If you enjoyed it, as per usual, consider dropping a review!