Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Betty walked back into my life with a swirl of pink skirts and kitten heels, hair falling softly in curls to frame her face, eyes wide and liquid, soft and lost- small town Audrey Hepburn. The jukebox was playing Clapton's “Wonderful Tonight.” I had a cheese fry halfway to my mouth.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” I muttered.

Her head turned, attention snapped over at the sound of my voice. Her wild eyes softened a little, shoulders relaxing, and I didn't even have to ask.

You want a small town cliché?

The Plain Jane girl next door type, done pining, gets a makeover, Hollywood Prom style, wins the hero's heart and rides off into the sunset because, boom, turns out She Was Gorgeous All Along.

And somehow Archie had managed to screw that up too.

She sat down at the booth and picked up two fries, dunking them in ranch and eating them fast before it dripped. There was a little bacon bit stuck to one of her fake diamond inset fingernails. A little ranch at the corner of her mouth. Betty eats like she means it and it's my favorite thing about her. Right up there with all the other things about her.

“You know this is the first place he's going to look.” I said flatly, grabbing another fry.

She sighed. “I'm that predictable?” Her voice was more wry than bitter, which was an improvement.

I half shrugged. “You always come here when you get upset like this. Must be something in the fries.”
I snagged one more, then, with the air of a great sacrifice, slid them across the table to her. She scarfed the rest in record time.

“Do you think I'm stupid?” Betty asked, shoving the empty plate aside.

“Is this rhetorical, or...?” She glared and I sighed.

“No,” I said. “I don't think you're stupid. I don't even think you're being stupid. Feelings are stupid. But having them is normal. Or so I've heard.”

Betty fished in her purse for money but I waved her off. It didn't feel right somehow, taking junk food money from a girl a few minutes from crying. Probably bad karma or something. Better to earn some universal goodwill. I would probably need it.

Betty stood and smoothed her skirt. “Thanks,” she said, looking back over her shoulder, down at me, so the street lights caught her glitter highlighter and she sparkled- and it should have been scripted, that look. A dozen angles it would have looked right on, and here she was wasting it on me.

“Don't thank me for a couple of soggy fries.” I said gruffly, booting up my laptop.

“Didn't you know?” Betty looked a bit puzzled, head tilted slightly to the side. “You're always here, so I always come here. I was looking for you.”

And then she left. Me, mouth open, staring after her like the world's biggest jackass. After that, I was ready to read Archie the riot act. Remind him to take better care of Betty- he'd lost the lesser of his group and she was worth a little chasing. Worth an honest conversation. Worth more than cheese fries.

Which was why my first thought, honestly, when he stumbled through the door and collapsed on the linoleum floor, was how annoyed I was for losing the chance to.

Pop reached him first. “Archie,” Pop said, patting Archie's pale cheeks roughly. I slid beside him on my knees across the slick floor. Archie's eyes were rolled back in his head, showing whites.

“Is he drunk?” Pop asked me.

“He doesn't drink,” I muttered, grabbing Archie's jaw and leaning closer. There was no smell of alcohol- just a dark, unpleasant odor. What was that? It smelled a little like-

Archie gave a great gasp and shudder and then sat up straight. Pop and I both backed off as the redhead got slowly to his feet. His hair was mussed. His tie undone. He looked like hell.

“Betty was here but she went home,” Pop blurted. He usually tried to keep out of these kinds of things- not going to be the go-to hang out spot if you rat out your steadies, but Archie was clearly freaking him out and he wanted the kid to go.

I couldn't blame Pop. Those jerky movements- unnatural. Weird. Like he wasn't even in control of his own body. This was more than some small town drama. This was more than him rejecting the only girl who really loved him for him- before the Mr. Popular Football God thing.

“I have to go,” Archie muttered, pushing himself to standing.

“You want me to call your Dad?” Pop asked. Archie just shook his head and stumbled out of the building. I cursed under my breath and ran back to my table, stuffing my laptop into my bag, throwing ten bucks onto the table and running out into the night.

Running after a best friend who never even looked back. If that wasn't a metaphor for the whole damn situation, I don't know my literary devices.

By the time I got outside he was a distant, staggering figure by the road. He seemed to be doubled over. I jogged closer.

“Arch,” I said coaxingly, putting my hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

He turned to look at me and the street was dark but a car was approaching and in the low light I saw a glint of teeth where there shouldn't be teeth.

“Get away from me, Jug.” Archie said in a low voice.

Thing is, I've had fights with Archie before. Never probably as bad as the one we were in now, but yeah. You're not friends from kindergarten without getting a few bruises over Decepticons and Autobots. We've shouted. Cursed. Punched each other in the eye.

This wasn't an angry Archie voice.

This was a scared one.

A car stopped. I looked up.

“Is he okay?” Miss Grundy, music teacher and high school dream boat muse leaned over to the passenger side window with her big, caring eyes.

“Uh,” I said.

“I'll run him home. I'd take you too, but I have too many things in the backseat.”

The backseat was empty.

“I can just call his Dad.”

Archie shook his head, reached one arm out to grasp the door of the powder blue VW Bug.

“Or.. I can take him home. Pop'll let me use his van.”

Miss Grundy slid her glasses down her nose and leaned and when she looked at me again, something in the light made her eye color seem to change- blue to violet to green.

“He'll be fine with me. I'll take care of him. No need to worry.”

I took a step back.

“I'm fine, this is fine, I gotta go.” Archie wheezed, throwing himself into the passenger side seat.

Grundy leaned over Archie and shut the door. They drove off into the night.

“Fuck,” I said.

Nothing interesting ever happens in small town like Riverdale. Some people leave, on football scholarships or water polo (the Aquaholics were a lot more talented than the name implied). Most stay. Maybe go off to a state school for a few years, then trickle back in- working in some dead end job until they die. Some become Serpents. Some kill themselves.

I was a lot closer to the last two than I like to talk about until Jason Blossom drowned.

I could see it on the faces I passed in the street.

Why him? Why not me? What's my purpose in this small town dream?

Almost like a steady beat, increasing in tempo, racing toward- something.

But it wasn't just Jason. There was a new girl in school, dark and mysterious. Archie, a stranger almost overnight. I came around the keyboard and into the light.

Everything changes.

They found Jason's body in the water, at the edge of the woods. A gunshot wound in his head. And Betty and Archie walked to school together. Same old, same old.

Don't mind me. Sardonic humor is just my way of relating to the world.

I caught him staring at the display case at Jason's picture. They did look alike- red hair, sure, good builds, same numbered letterman jacket. But there was something else- some kind of appeal there. Weird. Was I the only one who noticed it? He was like that a few times- just looking. Looking at Cheryl. At Jason's picture. At Veronica. I was missing something.

And then Betty.

Betty crying behind the gym. Sort of my go-to spot at school. Like Pop's, I guess. I moved to lean beside her, against the wall. Handed her a napkin from my stash from the diner.

“He was singing to me. It was really sweet.” She managed, sobbing.

“Total cad.” I deadpanned. She laughed, then snorted into a napkin.

“It was like he wanted something from me, though. Like I should have been feeling something- positive? I should be okay with everything, I know- it was a long time coming, but it was like he didn't want trouble? Like everything needed to be okay for some reason.” She shook her head, confusedly. “I had to get out of there.”

“It's okay to be mad for a while. Even for you,” I said eventually, looking down at my shoes.

“From a really reliable source,” she said, smiling.

“You know me. Poster child for the well adjusted.” I handed her another napkin. She blew her nose messily.

“I need to go back. I left my books. How do I look?” She stared up at me. Her eyes were still wet, her nose red. Her hair was coming loose from her ponytail around her face. Her bottom lip trembled and her neck was flushed.

“Perfect,” I said honestly.

She left. I headed back to the school.

I'm an observer. I observe. So if anyone was going to see Chapter 2 in the weird Mrs. Robinson saga that was unfolding in my ex-best friend's life, it was going to be me, I guess. I don't know why I was surprised to see him in Grundy's classroom. I don't think it was seeing them together. I don't even think it was the warm embrace. It probably had something to do with her teeth in his neck.

We talked after that. It didn't go well.

“So she's the reason you've been acting weird since this summer?” I asked.

“Some of it,” Archie said. And his eyes flashed in a way that made them look lighter- more golden than brown.

20/20 vision, by the way.

He grabbed my arm when I turned to go and his grip was hard. I'd never been so glad to see Fred Andrews in my life. Nearly made up for that whole firing my dad, ruining my life kind of thing. When I shrugged out of my shirt before bed, I saw the bruises and winced. It took almost two weeks for them to go away.

So, like any rational minded person, I kept my distance and let the mystery go. Everything was fine. My word against his. Probably a hallucination. Nothing to see here. Nobody dead but Jason Blossom.

Except, no, I followed the pack of morons into the student lounge free period like an idiot. To keep an eye on Archie. Like a public service. Protecting innocents and all that jazz. It had nothing to do with the blonde in the pink cardigan.

So when Reggie started talking shit, I couldn't help it. I've known Reggie Mantle nearly as long as Archie. He put paste in my sandwich in fourth grade. Once an asshole, always an asshole. Betty's eyes were saying not worth it. Just sit there and let him say what he's going to say. What does it matter? In front of Archie. In front of her.

I opened my big mouth anyway.

“It's called necrophilia, Reggie. Can you spell it?”

He flew over the furniture and I tensed. I was expecting a black eye, maybe. Something visually dominating. Reggie's that type.

I was not expecting Archie Andrews to throw Reggie into the vending machine. The glass broke. Reggie had a Snickers bar stuck to his jacket. Archie stood over him.

“Leave him alone.” Archie said. “Leave my friends alone.” His eyes went around the room once, and this time I know it wasn't the light because it was the same artificial florescent they'd used last year and his eyes had never flickered brown to gold.

Then he gave himself a little shake and Conan the Barbarian was gone- it was just good old Archie Andrews, helping Reggie up, just dazed and freaked enough to allow it, before walking out of the door like nothing happened.

Principal Weatherbee stuck his head in a few minutes later.

“What happened?” He demanded.

“I tripped,” Reggie said. He still looked dazed.

“Over the table.” Moose said helpfully.

“Really hard,” finished Kevin.

The room smiled, beamed at Weatherbee and filed out, one by one. The new girl, Veronica, stood. Sipped her soda through a straw. Met my eyes on the way out. Winked.

“What in the fuck was that?” Betty whispered.

Our eyes met.

“No clue,” I lied through my teeth. I fell into step beside her. Walking helps me think and I wasn't about to leave Betty alone with gun wielding murderers and weirdo hypnotic redheads wandering the streets of Riverdale. She'd be fine at home. I was pretty sure Mrs. Cooper could handle any number of serial killers and she'd been cutting Archie down to size for years.

“Are you walking me home?” Betty asked after a few minutes of silence.

“The Drive-In's that way. Midnight showing of Rocky Horror,” I lied again.

“You're not good at that.” She said.

“What?”

“Lying. You have a tell.” I stopped, looking at her fully.

“I do not have a tell.” I was vaguely annoyed. Offended, even.

“You do.”

“What is it, then?”

Betty shook her head. “Oh no. If I let you know, I'll lose my advantage.”

“Dangerous information, there, Bets. I'm full of secrets.” I said. It came out as less of a joke than I'd intended.

“I'm aware,” Betty said, smiling.

Friday night football game. Why was I doing this? I was too restless to sit in the stands, faking school spirit. I told myself it was for the book. Someone needed to see the town all together. Maybe there would be something big. Or a small clue that would come to light much later. This was most definitely not to keep an eye on a certain redhead and blonde of my acquaintance and their first big game.

“I'm going to tell Weatherbee and Sheriff Keller.” Archie promised.

“I'm not going to hug you in front of this whole town,” I said, smirking.

In that moment, he was my friend again. That good guy who had no head for girls and just the worst priorities except when it was really important. Guy who really honestly wanted to do the right thing by everyone and just kept screwing up. I think Betty saw it too- I saw her speak to him, as he moved across the field.

Miss Grundy saw it too, over where she was dispensing drinks. One hand rested against the heavy steel table, a relic from games long past. Good luck, they said. It took three players in their prime to set it up and tear it down each week. She was watching Archie with a little frown on her face. After a moment, she put the cup down and abruptly walked away.

Later, when everyone had left, I waited around for Archie. As one of the new starters, he had the privilege of clean up. Reggie, Moose and Chuck struggled under the table's weight.

“Hey, was this always here?” Clayton asked.

“I dunno, it's old,” Reggie said dismissively.

There was a deep imprint in the side of the table. It looked a little like a hand had grasped it there and squeezed.

“Ready to go, Jug?” Archie asked, jogging up.

“Yeah,” I said, tearing my eyes away from the table. “Let's go.”

There was a moment, when we walked into Pop's looking for a table, when Betty looked at Archie and I looked at Betty and Veronica just sipped her milkshake and looked at us all. Then we walked over and joined them.

There were four of us in that booth. But really there were three. A blonde. A brunette. A redhead.

There was no me. Not in this world they were making. And little did we know what was going to unfold in that world in the weeks to come.