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Betty trudged back into the lobby of Sisters of Quiet Mercy where Jughead was waiting. He jumped up the second the door opened, taking one look at her red-brimmed eyes and enveloping her in his arms without a moment’s hesitation. Betty let a sob loose into his chest, clutching onto the back of his shirt as if she feared she may fall over.
He didn’t ask any questions, he simply tightened his grip on her and let her grieve. She would tell him what happened when she was ready.
After a few minutes she pulled away, reaching up to wipe a stray tear from her cheek and sniffling. “Okay,” She nodded, “Let’s go.”
Jughead agreed, placing his hand on the small of her back and leading her out into the dusk.
“No!” Betty called suddenly and Jughead scrambled to see what had caused her surprise. From the top of the grand stone staircase, Betty and Jughead watched helplessly as the yellow and red striped bus pulled away from the stop and disappeared down the road. Betty began to move as if she intended to chase it down, but Jughead stopped her.
“It’s too late Betty. We missed it. We’ll just have to catch the next one.”
“But Jughead!” Betty protested, “That was the last bus of the night! Now we have no way to get home!”
“Oh.” The word tumbled helplessly from his lips, containing a pathetic lack of certainty that only seemed to fuel Betty’s anxiety further.
“My mom is going to kill me! I’m supposed to be home in an hour! What are we going to do?” Jughead could see her starting to spiral, her neck flushing red in indication of her heart rate increasing.
“Hey, hey,” Jughead reached out and grabbed her shoulders to stop her from pacing, “we’ll be okay. We’ll, uh,” Jughead racked his mind for an answer, practically falling over in relief when one appeared, “we’ll get a room at that motel down the road! We passed it on the way in remember? And then we’ll take the first bus out of here in the morning.”
Betty looked around as if to search for other solutions, but none came to her. She forced herself to take a deep breath. Jughead was right, they were stuck for the night. Might as well find a place to stay.
-----
The motel was far from pleasant. The neon sign above the lobby was partially burnt out and there were stains on the carpet that Betty was afraid to know the source of. Still, it was their only option.
They approached the front desk where a middle-aged man sat reading a magazine. He glanced up at them, clearly surprised to find two teenagers in the lobby at this time of night.
“What can I do for ya?” He asked, scanning Betty up and down in a manner that made Jughead feel like punching him.
“We need a room.” Jughead announced, placing a protective hand on Betty’s back and doing his best to seem intimidating.
The man’s eyes registered the movement and he smirked, “Sixty five dollars a night.”
Jughead froze. For all of his thinking, he hadn’t actually considered that a hotel room would cost them money. Money he definitely didn’t have.
Betty sensed his dismay, reaching down into her purse and pulling out her wallet. She revealed a rather large amount of cash, counting out sixty-five dollars and held it up proudly.
“Tutoring money.” She explained, sliding a wad of cash over the counter. “I like to keep it on hand for emergencies.”
Jughead exhaled the breath he hadn’t known he was holding and grinned. “I never thought I’d be so grateful for your over-preparedness.”
The man took the money and begrudgingly handed over a key. “Room 146.”
Betty swiped the key off the counter and turned on her heel, Jughead following closely behind. Grateful to be leaving the man’s presence, they stepped back out into the cool night air and down the sidewalk.
They found their room easily, the door swinging open with an loud creak. Betty flipped on the light, swallowing hard as she stepped into the small room.
“Juggie, this place...”
“Rivals the terrors of Capote? I know.” He quipped, his smirk falling when he registered the anxiety on her face. “Sorry. Not the time for jokes.”
“The first bus leaves at 6 AM tomorrow so we should try to get some rest.” Betty pulled out her phone and swiped it open, “I’ll text my mom and tell her I’m sleeping over at Veronica’s. Do you need to text anybody?” She glanced up at him questioningly.
“No, that’s okay.” Jughead shifted his weight, “No one will be worried if I don’t make it home tonight.” Not technically a lie, he thought.
Betty shrugged, not sensing his apprehension. She finished sending her text and set her phone on the table, “Then I guess it’s time for bed.”
Jughead looked at her, and then at the bed between them, suddenly painfully aware of the fact there was only one mattress in this room. He cleared his throat, “I’ll, um, I’ll take the floor.”
"Are you sure?” Betty asked.
“It’s okay,” Jughead assured her, “I’m really fine on the floor.”
Betty hesitated for a moment, clearly debating the moral implications of accepting the better of the two sleeping options. “Okay.”
Ten minutes later they turned out the lights, Betty beneath the covers and Jughead rested at the foot of the bed. He was just starting to drift when Betty shot upright and gasped.
“Betty? What is it?” Jughead was on his feet in a heartbeat, looking around in an attempt to determine the cause of her outburst.
“Did you hear that?” She asked, her eyes widened in fear.
“Hear what?” His eyebrows knitted together in confusion, “I didn’t hear anything.”
She opened her mouth as if to say something else but when she saw his confusion she stopped herself, “Oh.” She attempted a small smile, “Nevermind. I guess I’m just hearing things. Sorry.” She laid back down and Jughead followed suit, settling back into the silence of the space. After a minute or so of silence Betty hesitantly spoke. “Jughead?” She whispered.
“Yeah Betts?” He replied lazily.
“You locked the door, right?”
He smiled, “Yeah. Of course.”
“Okay.” She paused, facing back up toward the ceiling before asking again, “Are you sure?”
He sighed and stood up from his makeshift bed. He crossed the room, flicked the light back on and placed his hand on the lock. “It’s definitely locked. You have nothing to worry about.”
She nodded, the emotions on her face clearly contradicting the motion. Jughead began to move back to his place at the foot of the bed when she stopped him, “Wait, Jughead. Can you - I mean, could you maybe... sleep with me?”
“What?” Jughead choked, surprise filling his throat.
Betty’s cheeks flushed pink, “I just -” she exhaled deeply, “this place gives me the creeps.” She ran her bottom lip between her teeth, her dazzling doe-eyes shining up at him, “Please Juggie?”
Well crap. How was he supposed to say no to that?
He dropped his shoulders, nodding ever so slightly, “Okay.”
He shuffled toward the bed, pulling back the blankets and cautiously sliding onto the mattress next to her.
He might have been drifting off before, but he was wide awake now. God this was a stupid idea. He was hyper-aware of every inch of her body in relation to his, paralyzed at the thought of crossing the invisible line between them.
Suddenly Betty giggled, the unexpected sound soft and stifled. Surprised, Jughead turned to face her. “What’s so funny?”
She rolled toward him, propping her head up on her pillow. “I was just thinking about the last time we shared a bed together. It was in the first grade. Do you remember?”
Jughead rolled his eyes at the memory, propping himself up to mirror her, “How could I forget? We had a sleepover at Archie’s and you wanted to bake cookies in the middle of the night. You almost burnt the Andrews’ house down.”
“Your the one who was complaining about being hungry!” Betty defended.
“And you’re the one who insisted on using the oven to make sweets!” He countered.
“I was trying to be a good hostess!”
“It wasn’t even your house!” Jughead laughed, “It was Archie’s!”
“I- shut up!” Betty laughed, giving Jughead a playful shove that caused him to lose his balance and fall onto his back. “I wasn’t allowed to use an oven for years after that.” She placed a hand on her cheek to cover the flush that had appeared, “Although that didn’t stop me from making Polly-”
She faltered at the name, her cheerful disposition instantly sobering. Jughead watched as the joy left her eyes, helpless to bring it back. “Sorry.” She smiled half-heartedly, falling onto her back in a sort of defeat.
“You don’t have to apologize Betty.” Jughead reached out instinctively, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. His stomach practically exploded when Betty shifted suddenly, curling up into him and burying her face in his chest. He lowered his arm down across her shoulder, resting it as softly as he could against her sweater.
“She’s pregnant.” Betty whispered, the small vibrations of her voice resonating across his collarbone and splintering the edges of his heart. She was so small in that moment, so delicate as she lay folded in his arms. He didn’t know what to say to her, he was terrified that words would only make things worse. What words could possibly fix this?
He settled on rubbing his thumb against her back and tightening his hold on her. She didn’t say anything else, seemingly having the same train of thought he was.
They lay there for a while, the rise and fall of their chests falling into a steady rhythm. Jughead would have thought she had fallen asleep were it not for the way she was fiddling with the edge of his sleeve.
“Thank you.”
Jughead wiggled a bit to better see her, his stomach dipping when he found her face only an inch from his.
“For what?”
His voice was lower, breathier than he intended, the result of his ever-increasing heart rate.
“For everything.” She whispered, her breath dancing across his chin. She was so close. If he were to move forward even a centimeter, their noses would brush against each other. It took all his courage just to look her in the eye, his breath instantly catching in his throat at the sight of her meadow-green eyes. Despite himself he couldn’t stop from flickering his gaze down to her lips, swallowing hard as his mind flooded with imaginations of how they might feel against his own.
Stop that.
He quickly looked away, pulling her head back into his chest and effectively ending the moment.
“I’ll always be here for you Betts.” His words were heavy, filled with all the emotion he wished he could communicate.
She sighed into him, wrapping her arm around his waistline and giving it a small squeeze. “Goodnight Juggie,” she mumbled lazily, eyes fluttering closed as sleep took its hold.
“Goodnight Betty,” he whispered, leaning his head against hers and closing his eyes.
He knew they were just friends. He knew she had a lot on her plate. He knew she was still hung up on Archie. He knew she would never feel the same way he did. But still, laying here in this dingy motel room with her asleep in his arms, he couldn’t help but wonder:
What if?