Chapter Text
Summertime in Riverdale has always been a beautiful sight. By mid June, temperatures are warm but comfortable, and a gentle breeze carries the sounds of Sweet Water River across Pickens Park. With kids off school, Pop's is always busy and he sells twice as many milkshakes during the warm summer months than any other time of year.
Pop's milkshakes are a commodity among Riverdale's teens. It seems that the more you were able to drink during the summer, the higher your social status. Because of this, dates always consist of Pop's shakes, victories are celebrated with a tall glass of extra thick strawberry, and bets are made with double chocolate and whipped cream as the winnings.
One early summer evening, while celebrating a Bulldogs' baseball victory at Pop's, several of Riverdale's teens made the biggest milkshake bet Pop's had ever seen.
"No way," FP exclaimed, slamming his empty glass down on the table so hard Alice thought for sure he'd cracked it. "You couldn't beat us if your life depended on it."
"Wanna bet?" Mary fired back. If the table wasn't between them, she would have been right in FP's face.
"Freddie Andrews is the best baseball player Riverdale has ever seen. He could clean your clocks from the mound without the rest of us behind him. Let alone all of us against all of you."
"Well I say you're wrong. Why don't you put your money where your mouth is, FP Jones?"
Up until that point, Fred had been with FP all the way. The smile on his face could have lit up half of Riverdale. He loved hearing FP talk about how good of player he was, even if he was just saying he was better than a bunch of girls. As soon as Mary mentioned a bet though, his demeanor instantly changed. He was trying to save his money and he knew FP didn't have much to spare either. Even without knowing what kind of bet Mary was talking about, he knew she was mad enough to take them for all they're worth. Not that he was afraid to lose, but he didn't like where this was going.
"What do you have in mind?" FP shot back with a cocky grin.
Mary looked over at Alice, who had been egging her on the same as Fred had been with FP. The two girls whispered in the other's ears for several moments before turning back to the boys.
"One milkshake a week for every person on the winning team until school starts," Mary said matter-of-factly.
"NO WAY," Fred exclaimed shaking his head vigorously. "Who do you think we are? I don't have that kind of money!"
When he looked over at FP and saw the gleam in his eye, he knew they were in trouble. FP never backs down from a fight and would surely not back down from a sports bet with girls. Before Fred could stop him, FP's hand was extended across the table and he was shaking Mary's.
"You might want to ask your bosses about raises," FP warned them, "because I plan to get double whipped cream and chocolate bits on every single one of mine."
"We... we should probably set some ground rules," Fred said shakily. He was scared enough, but when he saw Hermione walk in the door, his heart seized.
"What's going on?" she asked as she slipped into the booth next to Fred.
"You're on the wrong side," Alice informed her.
"They're the enemy now," Mary agreed, sliding closer to Alice to make room for Hermione at the end.
"What are you talking about?" she asked, grabbing Fred's shake and taking a big sip.
"FP just bet a summer's worth of milkshakes that we can beat you at a baseball game..." Fred sighed. He folded his arms on the table and dropped his head into them.
Hermione looked across the table at the girls, who were starring back with grimaces on their faces. She had no choice. Solidarity is everything. She stood, taking Fred's shake with her, and sat back down on the other side of the table.
"What are the terms?" she asked very businesslike.
Mary took a pen and paper out of her bag and the five of them drew up the agreement. Something this significant definitely needed written down. By the time everything was decided, Fred was sick to his stomach. FP had done most of the talking and agreed that they would keep the winnings to basic shakes only; no extras. Everyone on the losing team would pitch in to buy the winners' shakes and Pop agreed to keep track of everyone's weekly payment. He was sure this would help break his summer shake record by at least a dozen.
"Well it's all settled now but the teams," Mary said, folding the paper and slipping it into her bag.
"We won't have any trouble finding guys looking for free milkshakes. Right, Fred?" FP laughed.
Fred looked up at Hermione, who was glaring at him from across the table.
"Probably not, FP," he sighed.
"I guess we'll see you on Saturday," Alice said as the girls slipped out of the booth.
"Bring your money," FP called after them. "I expect my first shake as soon as the game's over!"
The ring of the bell on Pop's door signaled the girls' exit.
"This is going to be the best summer ever," FP breathed, leaning back in the booth.
Fred did the same, but he was far less confident about the grandeur of the months ahead.
The next morning, Fred was on his way back from getting Bunny a loaf of bread at the store when Hermione flagged him down from across the street. Normally he would have crossed over to her side of the road a block sooner to make sure she saw him coming, but today he was trying to actively avoid her. All the girls in town were now off limits thanks to FP's bet and being seen talking to the enemy would have been treason.
When he saw that beautiful dark brown hair blowing in the afternoon breeze, and her hand shoot up as soon as she saw him, he felt the front wheel of his bike turn all on its own, pulling him to her. She flashed him a bright smile as he stopped a few feet from where she stood.
"What's up?" Fred asked her as nonchalantly as he could muster.
"We're having trouble scrounging up enough gloves for the game on Saturday," Hermione admitted. "I thought maybe you might have an old one lying around that we could borrow."
When Fred hesitated, she added, "If you don't that's ok...I think this whole thing is dumb anyway."
"Really?" Fred said, surprised. He thought for sure Hermione was all for it. She seemed to be at Pop's last night anyway.
"We don't have a chance with you playing. If the guys didn't have you, then we'd kill them for sure, but..."
She looked up into Fred's eyes and he could feel his heart beating out of his chest.
"Well I won't be playing at my max anyway," Fred assured her calmly.
"Why not? You aren't hurt are you?" Every bit of Hermione's body language oozed concern from her frown and drawn eyes to the half step she took toward him.
"Nahh," Fred laughed, eating up her worry. "I just don't want to overdo it before our game next week."
"Oh, thank god," Hermione breathed. "Well that might make things a little more fair. If you don't play at 100%, we might just have a small chance."
"Maybe," Fred laughed, running his hand through his hair.
"I was thinking," Hermione said, taking the last few steps that remained between her and Fred. "If we win, maybe you could buy me my weekly shake after a trip to the drive-in some Saturday."
Fred's knees almost buckled and, if he hadn't been half sitting on his bike, he would have probably fallen over. He'd been trying to figure out how to ask Hermione on a proper date for months now, and here she was practically asking him.
"Shh, sure," he finally blurted out.
"Promise? If we win, you'll take me to a movie?" Hermione smiled, placing her hand on the back of Fred's bike seat.
"Absolutely," Fred agreed, smiling ear to ear. She was standing so close to him now he could smell the sweet scent of her shampoo in the summer air.
"Good," she whispered, before stepping back. "I'll see you on Saturday?"
"Yeah. See ya Saturday," Fred whispered back. He watched her walk down to the corner before he rode away.
He was in his driveway before he realized what he'd just done. His shot at a date with Hermione Reyes was now dependent on him losing the game.