Chapter Text
.
Chapter 7
The drive seemed longer without Betty in the passenger seat. He missed her conversation, the smell of her perfume. The way she talked over audiobooks and how she would randomly break into show tunes from musicals like the Last Five Years and Fun Home because she wanted to see him huff and puff in annoyance. He looked at his cellphone and contemplated calling her. Just to hear her voice.
He sighed loudly. He was being pathetic. It wasn’t like this would last forever. She had told him that they would see each other again when they got home. It didn’t stop him from feeling mopey and wanting to wallow in sad love songs.
I love you.
Had she been asking him to say it to her face? Had she really heard him and used the dream as an excuse to bring it up? Did she want him to say it? After all these years, did she love him too? He didn’t want to know. He hoped so.
Jughead leaned forward and turned the radio on so he wouldn’t be alone with his thoughts. But she was in every lyric of every song. So, at the next rest stop he logged into his audiobook account and hit play, Jim Dale’s voice came over the speakers and he drove the rest of that day listening to Harry Potter.
He made it to Maine in record time because he didn’t have Betty asking him to stop every single time she saw a cute roadside stand or the exit for an attraction in one of her brochures or making him stop overnight because he looked tired.
Bernie was working on a mini-van when he pulled up. She smiled when she saw him.
“Back from seeing America, I see!” She said, wiping her hands off on a greasy rag. “How was it?”
“Great,” Jughead answered half-heartedly.
Bernie looked over his shoulder and frowned. “Where’s your girl?”
Jughead shrugged. “She’s not my girl,” he answered.
“Your girl or not, what happened to her?” Bernie asked.
“Back in Riverdale by now,” Jughead replied. “I guess somewhere along the line, things got confused and I might have ruined the friendship.”
Bernie pursed her lips together. “She didn’t feel the same way?”
“I didn’t ask,” Jughead admitted. “I didn’t really tell her how I felt.”
Bernie sighed and went to her desk to get his keys. “Here, I fixed your car. It should be as good as new. Maybe even better than before!”
“Thanks,” Jughead said.
Bernie took a good long look at him. “Maybe you should stop for the night and get some sleep. You look exhausted. What are you running on anyways? Coffee and doughnuts?”
“You’re not wrong,” Jughead replied.
“You should stay here a few days,” Bernie said. “Get some rest, clear your head. I’m sure things will look better when you’ve eaten properly and spent some time around the ocean. The ocean helps everyone see things clearly after a while.”
Jughead nodded. It wasn’t like he had anywhere else to be or anything else to do with his time.
.
He woke up early the next morning and went to get breakfast. Afterwards, he took a long walk on the beach like Bernie had suggested. While he took pictures of the foamy water, of the tide coming in, of Nubble Lighthouse, he thought about her. About the way she had looked on their last morning together.
Had there been hope in her eyes or had it just been a figment of his imagination? A product of wishful thinking? Did she want him to say the words aloud, to her face? Being in a car together couldn’t change a lifetime of feelings for another person, could it?
Jughead was more confused than ever.
The whole month of July had been confusing.
There had been moments she had looked at him over iced coffees or books. There had been moments she had touched him casually and everything had felt different between them. The dance at the wedding, the night they’d fallen asleep together in the hotel room.
He knew he at least owed her the truth. Even if he had made up the whole thing in his head because he was seeing something he wanted to see.
He went to a gift shop and purchased a postcard with Long Beach on it. He flipped it over and addressed it to her in black ink. He tapped his pen against the worn wooden bench, thinking about what he’d say. How he’d phrase it. He was a writer, it should have been easy. But telling the truth rarely ever was.
Jughead settled for keeping it short and sweet.
Dear Betty,
It wasn’t a dream. . .
He paused and looked out over the ocean, sighing before continuing.
I said it right before you fell asleep. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I LOVE YOU!!! I know I should say it to you when you’re wide awake, when we are face-to-face. I am getting there. Working up the courage to do it the right way. Please let this be my start. I’ll see you when I get home.
Yours forever (?)
Jughead
He bought a stamp and dropped it in a mailbox before he had a chance to second-guess himself, to change his mind. Then he walked away, leaving it behind him.
He’d wait a couple days to let the postcard get to her before he went home.
.
That night, he sat down in the Goldenrod Cafe with his laptop. He ordered a cheeseburger and Coke, opened a new document and began to type.
Our story begins the day after 4th of July, in an all-American town, in a booth in a diner. A teenage loner was supposed to go on a road trip with his best friend but there was a change of plans and he ended up in a car with the girl of his dreams in an adventure you can only read about in young adult novels.
There weren’t any murders except for in the podcasts they listened to, revenge plots except for in audiobooks, or gang activity except for the crime shows they’d watch at night. The only thing there was were two kids, the open road, lots of music, and one epic detour.
.
Jughead was finally home again and everything was just as he had left it. He had almost expected it to change completely in his absence and he was so glad for the familiarity of it all.
He stopped in to have an early dinner at Pop Tate’s Diner. On his way out afterwards he saw Betty outside the library, sitting on her pink Schwinn in gingham shorts, a navy sleeveless blouse, and acrylic red sunglasses while she chatted with one of the Pussycats.
Jughead parallel parked the car and crossed the street. Without thinking about it, he pulled Betty off her bicycle and kissed her mid-sentence even though he wasn’t sure how she would react. It was the most macho thing he had ever done in his life and he second-guessed himself because he didn’t want to be that guy. The one who did this kind of stuff without a girl’s permission.
“Jughead!” Betty said, looking a little flustered when they pulled away.
“I’m going to leave the two of you to it then. I’ll see you later, Betty!”
“Okay, Val!” Betty replied, she turned to Jughead. “You’re back! You didn’t tell me you were coming back today!”
“I didn’t really know myself,” Jughead answered.
“I-I got your postcard!” Betty told him. “I don’t understand why it’s so hard for you to say it to my face, Juggie. It’s not like I going to bite.”
“Bite, no. . . but rejection is a real possibility,” Jughead said. “All my life, I’ve known it should be you and Archie. You’d make the perfect couple, and I’ll make the perfect. . . best friend who shows up every once in a while and pined after you while you took care of me for a couple days.”
Betty bit her lip. “Juggie. . . I do love Archie. Up until this summer, I thought I was in love with him. I just. . . I always thought eventually he’d be in love with me too. So, I pinned all my hopes on that hypothetical someday. I just. . . I never realized you were there the whole time too. If we didn’t go on that road trip together, I think I’d still be waiting for him. But somewhere between here and sleeping under the stars, I fell in love with you. And it wasn’t because you were there or the only one to talk to. It wasn’t because I was lonely or missing Archie—”
“Is this where you say when you found the person you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with, you want the rest of your life to start right away?” Jughead joked lamely.
“Haha. . . no!” Betty replied. “But maybe it’s the part where I say I love you too.”
Jughead sighed. “You mean I have to say it again? Betty, I’ve already said it twice!”
“One time you thought I was asleep and the second time it was in a postcard. It was the coward’s way out!”
“Alright! Alright! I love you!” Jughead said surprised at how easily it came out with her standing in front of him. “I love you,” he repeated slowly, with more emotion, because he didn’t have to.
“I love you too,” Betty replied, standing on tiptoe to kiss him. She stopped and beamed at him. “Hi,” she said softly.
“Hey,” Jughead whispered back, so excited for the beginning of this particular chapter.
The End
.