Chapter Text
Not that he’d ever admit it to anyone, but Reggie’s first crush had been the one and only Betty Cooper. It was puppy love at its finest. Betty had worn a pink dress on the first day of school, hair pulled back in pigtails, and she’d brought a whole batch of her mother’s snickerdoodles for their kindergarten class. She’d sat next to him during storytime.
“Want another one?” She’d whispered. He looked at her, startled.
“Me?”
“Yeah, dummy,” she giggled.
“Why?” He frowned. She shrugged.
“You picked me for your team at recess! So we’re friends now.”
He stared at her, awed. “Really?”
She smiled at him, handing him a second cookie. “Duh.”
So then they’re friends, even if they don’t spend as much time together as they do with their other friends. He already has a best friend, Moose, and Betty and Archie are inseparable, and he doesn’t like Archie as much as he likes Betty. He doesn’t like anyone as much as he likes Betty, not even Moose.
Reggie tries his best to make more time for Betty. Betty gives him cookies and she always sits next to him in class and he likes how she colors neatly in the lines during arts and crafts. She’s also really good at soccer and she knows a lot about cars and she doesn’t tell him he has cooties like some of the other girls do. When his dad is mean to him before school and he sits inside instead of going to recess, Betty stays inside, too, and teaches him new words so he can join her in the “A” reading group. When other kids, like Jughead, pick on Betty, Reggie pushes them on the playground, which gets him in trouble. He doesn’t really care so much about that part when he sees Betty smile through her tears.
But whenever he looks at Betty, like when they’re in class or at lunch or after school when they’re walking to the pick up loop, she’s looking at Archie, and it makes him sad. He wants her to look at him.
They don’t hang out so much after that year, and his stomach stops feeling fluttery when she hugs him, but Betty Cooper will always and forever be someone he cares about.
Reggie falls in love with Josie in seventh grade. Josie McCoy has always been so pretty and brave and smart, and she’s never put up with his shit, not once, firing back her own insults with a smile on her face. He likes Josie a lot, and he always has, but he falls in love with her in seventh grade after he asks Veronica Lodge to dance and she laughs in his face. Betty apologizes for her, and scolds her best friend, dragging her away and shooting Reggie a sorrowful look.
He hunched over by the bleachers and watches Veronica dance with Archie, laughing and twirling. Betty’s nowhere to be found, but he has a hunch about where she’s gone when he sees Toni Topaz chewing out Jughead Jones. In any case, he’s too upset to worry about her right now.
He has a serious, heart-stopping, world-ending crush on Veronica Lodge, and how proper she is, how she always cheers him on at his basketball games, the way she always makes greeting him in the hallway a grand affair. “Reggiekins!” She’d cry, bounding into his arms to kiss his cheek. He should’ve known she didn’t really like him. Archie always got the same greeting.
“That was mean, what Veronica did,” Josie says. He whips his head around to look at her. She’s always pretty, but tonight she looks beautiful, glowing underneath the dim gym lights. He smiles ruefully.
“She likes Archie, I guess. Everybody likes Archie better. What’s so great about Carrot Top anyway?” He doesn’t mean to sound so bitter, but it doesn’t seem like Josie minds too much.
“I don’t like Archie better,” she tells him. He looks at her with wide eyes.
“You don’t.” She shakes her head, giggling.
“He has really big ears,” she whispers. Reggie grins.
“Right?”
Reggie glances out at the dance floor. The song playing fades out into the opening chords of a slower one. Veronica is snug against Archie’s chest. Josie slugs his arm, snapping him out of his trance. “Hey!”
“Wanna dance?”
He does a double-take. “Really?”
“Really,” she nods.
He smiles widely, grabbing her hand and pulling her out onto the floor. They’re mostly laughing, and neither of them take it too seriously. Josie dips him, at one point, and he trips over her feet a few times. But it’s perfect. The whole night is. He never leaves Josie’s side, even when she insists on rejoining Valerie and Melody on the bleachers. The four of them take turns sneaking cupcakes from the food table, and are eventually joined by Moose and Cheryl and Toni and Sweet Pea and Fangs, until they’ve got a little crowd tucked away together. Sweet Pea pulls out a deck of cards from his suit with no explanation, and they play a couple games FP taught him until all the noise they’re making gets them kicked out of the dance. Reggie holds Josie’s hand as they all walk to Pop’s together to wait for their parents. She looks even more beautiful under the moonlight.
They don’t talk about the dance on Monday, but Reggie’s heart starts to race every time he sees her at school after that.
Reggie is late, and he’s quiet, which are two things he’s never been known for. He’s got his hood up on his sweatshirt and he’s praying just to make it through the day without any questions from his friends. If he makes it to football practice, he can blame the cuts and bruises on the rough and tumble of being on the team, and no one will be the wiser. He won’t face any interrogation, and things will be fine.
“Reggie,” he hears behind him while he’s on his way to class. He speeds up.
“Sorry, B.C., I’ve got a test next period.”
“No, you don’t. You have history, with me, and we’re working on our Chinese dynasties project.” Shit.
He stops, lets her catch up to him, but doesn’t let her see his face. “Betty—“
She doesn’t give him a chance to escape. She grabs hold of one of the sleeves of his sweatshirt and pulls him into an empty classroom. Silently, she directs him to sit on top of one of the desks. She pulls out her mini first-aid kit from her bag, pushing his hood down. Her eyes are focused, but sad.
“Hold still,” she says.
The only noise is his hiss of pain when she uses an antiseptic wipe, and she winces in sympathy. It only takes a few minutes. Reggie keeps his gaze trained on the floor.
“Here,” Betty’s voice snaps him out of his spiraling thoughts. She hands him a small bottle of Advil. “Take two of these now and take another dose in a couple hours.”
He tries to protest. “I’m not going to—“
She arches a brow at him. “I have another bottle in my bag for emergencies, and the nurse won’t give out ibueprofein without a parent’s note.”
“Thanks,” he mutters sheepishly. Betty shrugs.
“What’re friends for?” She smiles, but it’s not one he recognizes. It’s faded and lackluster, barely even there. He frowns at her.
“Hey, Betty, are you okay?” Another shrug.
“When am I not? See you in history, Reg.” She waves over her shoulder, and before he can interject, she’s gone. He stares down at the bottle of Advil in his hand.
He starts to worry.
“I feel love…” His phone croons the lyrics of one of Josie’s favorite Donna Summers songs, and he lunges to pick up the call before she can second guess herself and hang up. “Hey,” he answers as nonchalantly as he can manage, forcing his breaths to even out.
For a second, there’s only silence on the other end. Then, a small sniffle.
He sits up straighter, tense with anxiety. “Josie? Is something wrong?”
More silence. A shaky breath. “My dad... he left again.”
“I hit Andrews in the face with a football at practice this morning,” he blurts out. There’s a pause for a couple moments, but then…
“What the fuck?” She snorts. He grins to himself.
“It was totally an accident, if anyone asks.”
“Accident, my ass,” she interjects, breaking off into a genuine cackle.
“You laugh like the Wicked Witch of the West.”
She sputters. “I do not!”
“You totally do!”
There’s an unspoken understanding between them. It’s not the first time she’s called for this reason. It won’t be the last. So he does what he always does, distracts her with playful banter and stupid stories, and she throws back her own affectionate insults. After around an hour, their laughter fades into amicable quiet.
“Thank you, Reggie.”
“For what?” He asks, playing dumb. She huffs, but it’s fond, not frustrated.
“For being there. Being... sweet.” There’s a beat. Softly she whispers, “You’re a good guy.”
His heart hammers in his chest. “Eh, I do this for all the hot chicks at school. Don’t go feeling special, McCoy,” he tries, but he knows she isn’t buying it for a second.
“Of course not,” she murmurs, and he can hear the smile in her tone. He smiles, too.
He loses all respect for Veronica (and by extension, Archie) at Veronica’s end of the year party. The whole grade is there, it seems. He waves hi to Josie, but doesn’t ask her for a dance, since she’s flanked by Val and Mel. He moves through the crowd, looking for the girl who’d quickly become his best friend at these events. Reggie can’t get drunk because of what his dad might do, and Betty doesn’t get drunk because of what Alice might do. They usually dance together at least once, and make fun of the other partygoers (Well, he makes fun of them while Betty reminds him he shouldn’t be too mean). One of them is always keymaster. It sucks less, at least, with Betty by his side.
He frowns. Why isn’t Betty by his side? She never misses a Lodge party. It’s grounds for a fight in Veronica’s world. He taps the hostess in question on the shoulder once he finds her, with Archie, of course. If anyone will know, it’s her. Veronica turns to him, still laughing at a joke Archie’s just told. Archie waves at him, and he waves back distractedly. “Where’s Betty?” He asks.
Veronica tilts her head, like she hasn’t heard him. “Who?”
“Betty Cooper?” He repeats, louder. “Yay high, feisty blonde, handy with a wrench, your best friend?”
Veronica’s face morphs into a sneer almost immediately, and Reggie’s almost taken aback. “Betty’s not my friend. She’s just a bitch.”
“The fuck?” He takes a step back and shakes his head. “Tell me you did not just say that.” And suddenly he’s running through the last few months, and he can’t quite remember the last time he’d seen Betty with Veronica and Archie, and she’s been so sad lately, and everyone is here but Betty, and, and—
He takes another step back. “Right, I’ve… gotta go.”
Someone calls after him, maybe Veronica, maybe Josie. He doesn’t really care.
He only really goes to those parties to hang with Betty, anyway. Without her, what’s the point?
After a few weeks of avoiding Archie at summer practices while he badmouths Betty, Reggie pays Dilton Doiley to find out Betty’s schedule for him. Well, he tries to, at least, but Dilton won’t take his money once he finds out what Reggie’s planning on doing.
“Betty helped me pass out flyers and set up orientation for my scouts,” he tells Reggie. “She’s the nicest person in Riverdale.” He hands him the paper with all of Betty’s classes on it. “She deserves something nice, too.”
He finds her before first period on the first day of school. “B.C.!” She gives him a weird look.
“Reg? How was your summer?”
“Ah, it was great. Would’ve been better if I’d seen more of you.” She rolls her eyes at him, but smiles a little at the joke. He counts it as a win.
He walks her to class all day, even though it gets him into some trouble with his teachers over being tardy. He gives her some granola bars to stow in her locker, the mint chocolate ones she likes so much that he’s always found a bit strange. By lunch, she looks much more relaxed.
He gives her a hug then. “Andrews has been talking shit,” he tells her, “but I got your back, Coop.” She doesn’t say anything to him, but she smiles gratefully as they part ways. It’s enough for him.