Work Text:
you are loved, you are loved
and nothing’s gonna change that.
I will love you til we’re old and grey
and I’ll love you when we’re young.
- Matthew Mole
school bell rings
walk me home
The day Jughead Jones meets Veronica Lodge is nothing special.
In fact, it’s raining. It’s cold, and it’s raining, and Jughead is sitting in Pop’s and waiting for Archie Andrews (who is late, again ).
Veronica’s new in town and running for the closest door in heels, expensive jacket held over her head. God, her mother’s gonna kill her.
She bursts through the door of Pop’s laughing, wiping off her face with her hands and smudging red lipstick all over her cheeks, wet strands of hair in disarray across her forehead, stuck to her slick skin.
She turns her head, trying to figure out where she is and if there’s a payphone, and that’s when she sees him, grinning at her with mirthful eyes.
She smiles back and plops down in the booth across from him. There’s a loud squeak as her wet thighs slide on the leather.
She looks up at him and they both burst into giggles, still snickering when she holds out her hand.
“Veronica Lodge,” she says, and his eyes twinkle as he shakes it.
“Jughead Jones.”
sidewalk chalk covered in snow
“So how often are you here, exactly?” Veronica asks, shrugging off her ratty sweatshirt as soon as she sits down, and Jughead shrugs, grinning at her from behind his laptop screen.
“I live here,” he deadpans, and Veronica snorts, waving Pop over to order a jumbo fry. Jughead raises his eyebrows when she starts digging in, dipping some of the tips in her milkshake and others in ketchup.
“You’re a strange girl, Veronica Lodge,” Jughead murmurs, and Veronica shrugs, huffing out a laugh.
“You’ve known me for three days,” she says back. “I’m surprised it took you so long to realize.”
It’s his turn to laugh, shoulders shaking as he slumps further down in his seat. Veronica grins, shoving ten fries into her mouth at once and smiling wider, letting all the fries hang out like teeth, and Jughead laughs so hard he slips right from his seat and under the table.
Veronica doesn’t hesitate for a moment, grabbing her fries and milkshake and sliding down right after him. She holds out the fries, knees to her chest as she sips from her milkshake and Jughead scarfs down her salty yellow potato sticks.
lost my gloves
you give me one
“The day we met,” Veronica says, fidgeting with the edge of his jacket as they lie back in the grass of the empty drive-in, “you said you were waiting for someone.”
Jughead doesn’t look at her, eyes caught on the stars.
“Yeah,” he says, distracted, and Veronica smiles, amused, and raises an eyebrow. She licks her lips.
“Who’s someone?”
Jughead huffs out a laugh. When she keeps staring at him, he finally turns his head to meet her eyes.
“You’re serious?” He asks, incredulous, and she nods. He grins. “Wanna meet him?”
Her eyes widen as he jumps to his feet, reaching down for her hands. She lets him take them, stumbling up, and follows him down the street.
“But it’s two a.m.!” She whisper-shouts, and Jughead laughs, hands in his pockets as she hops around, trying to ram her feet back into her flats.
“Yeah,” he says. “So?”
She opens her mouth to retort and nearly runs right into him, as he’s stopped suddenly in front of a house with no lights on. He smiles up at it, his expression soft, and then pulls out his phone, dialling a number and pressing the device to his ear.
“Yeah, it’s me,” he murmurs, gentle and fond. “Yeah, come down.”
He puts his phone back in his pocket, his hands too, and she loops her arm through his, nestling closer in the cold. He looks down at her, face blank, and she gives him a small smile.
A moment later, a redheaded boy comes bounding down the steps - in pajama pants and barefoot. He’s shirtless, which makes Jughead smirk, and his eyes widen comically when he sees Veronica, clearly not expecting Jughead to have company.
“Uh, Jug?” The boy says, voice high and nervous, and Jughead snorts, shaking Veronica’s arm from his to step forward and wrap his arms around the boy’s neck in a hug, which he gladly returns, eyes still on her.
“Who’s she?” The boy mumbles into Jughead’s shoulder, and Jughead grins when he pulls away, one arm still around the boy and the boy’s own arm still wrapped around Jughead’s waist.
“Veronica Lodge,” Jughead says, smiling around her name, and she grins. “Friend of mine.”
Veronica waves, taking note of how Jughead looks at this boy, his eyes soft and full of love, biting on his lip and hand twitching by his side in the urge to touch.
“Vee,” Jughead murmurs, fingers tapping out a beat on the boy’s shoulder, “meet Archie Andrews. My best friend.”
wanna hang out
yeah, sounds like fun
“So…” Veronica starts, a sly smirk on her face. “You and Archie?”
Jughead snorts, not looking up from the book he’s nose-deep in, leaning back against the shelf as if he belongs here. Maybe he does. She doesn’t know.
“Never in a million years,” he says, and she raises an eyebrow, pulling a brand new signed copy of Harry Potter & the Deathly Hallows off the shelf and thumbing through it with a smile.
“Why not?” She asks, tracing her fingers over the illustrations at the start of every new chapter. “God, why not?”
Jughead looks at her with laughing eyes, putting The Hunger Games back on the shelf and pulling out Pride & Prejudice .
“Not telling you,” he teases, and she laughs at him exasperatedly, shoving Harry Potter back on the shelf and grabbing at his sleeve.
“C’mon, Jug, I see how you look at him.”
Jughead smiles softly at his book, then looks over at her and licks his lips.
“I mean, never in a million years am I telling you.”
Veronica’s eyes widen and her mouth drops open as Jughead puts Pride & Prejudice back, heading for the door as she jogs after him in her heels.
“What do you mean, telling me?” She shouts. “There’s something to tell about? Jug! Jughead! Forsynthe Pendleton Jones!”
Jughead laughs, head thrown back, and doesn’t answer even as she loops her arm through his and begs.
video games
you pass me a note
sleeping in tents
“I met a pretty girl yesterday,” Veronica says, soft in the dark of her bedroom. Jughead’s fingers brush hers.
“Yeah?” He murmurs, and she swallows, nodding up at the ceiling.
“Yeah. Betty Cooper.”
Jughead smiles, or at least she thinks he does. It’s hard to tell in the black, when they’re lying next to each other and staring up into the vast expanse of nothing. But it’s like she can hear his smile, almost, the sound of gentle sea waves and ice cream sandwiches.
“She is pretty, yeah.”
Veronica’s fingers tighten around his.
“Do you…?”
He huffs out a laugh.
“No,” he says. “God, no, she’s wonderful, but… there’s only ever been one person for me.”
Veronica grins, rolling on her side and propping herself up on her elbow.
“Archie?” She asks, and he smiles, shrugging.
“Kinda. Summer was nasty, nearly broke us, but he’s… you ever feel like oxygen got replaced by a person?”
Veronica’s smile softens. She drops back down again and lays her head on Jughead’s chest, his arm curling around her shoulders almost subconsciously.
“No. But I imagine it’s something like what everyone tells me is love.”
Jughead huffs again, brushing his fingers through her hair.
“Love doesn’t even begin to describe it.”
Veronica smiles, closing her eyes and breathing him in.
it’s nice to have a friend
it’s nice to have a friend
“You snore.”
Veronica snorts, grabbing a pillow with sleepy hands and throwing it over her shoulder at Jughead on the floor, who cackles. She can hear rustling as he rolls around in glee, and she sits up and rubs at her eyes, wrapping her arms around her knees and watching him be happy.
“Why did I let you stay again?” She asks, no real bite to her tone, and Jughead grins up at her, eyes twinkling.
“Because I’m your best friend in the whole wide world and also you fell asleep on me and also your mom threatened to kill me if I didn’t move to the floor and also because there’s no school today and also because you love me.”
Veronica groans, throwing her head back dramatically with a grin.
“Don’t push it, Jones.”
Jughead just laughs, grabbing her wrist and pulling her down to the floor, tickling her sides as she screeches in laughter, slapping at him half-heartedly and screaming protests she doesn’t really mean.
light pink sky up on the roof
“Tell me about Archie,” Veronica whispers. They’re alone outside of Pop’s, the lights all off inside, leaning against the door beneath the closed sign, and Jughead smiles, eyes glazing over.
“What do you wanna know?”
Veronica grins, looping her arm through Jughead’s and leaning her head on his shoulder.
“I dunno. All of it. Everything.”
Jughead huffs out a laugh, knocking his feet together and fidgeting with his fingers.
“He’s sunshine,” he says. “Literal sunshine, Vee, he’s so warm and happy all the time. And he’s like an angel, I could swear he has wings, Vee, he -”
Veronica snickers, feeling lightheaded.
“And you love him,” she mumbles, and he shrugs, blushing. His mouth finds her hair and she grins, biting his sleeve playfully.
“Tell me about Betty,” Jughead says, and she giggles, tapping out the rhythym to her favorite song on his arm.
“Cookies,” she babbles. “Cookies and milk and violins, she’s like music. I wanna dance with her, and hold her hand and grow her roses.”
Jughead sniggers against her head, voice muffled when he answers.
“And you love her,” he says, and she sighs happily, closing her eyes.
“Call Archie to come and pick us up,” she says, yawning. “I wanna go home.”
sun sinks down
no curfew
“How do I look in this?”
Jughead asks her when they’re in her room and he’s wearing a black dress of hers. It’s short on him, and his converse kind of ruin it, but she grins, red lips curling up around white teeth.
“I love it,” she says. “Here, try the red one.”
She takes down a scarlet dress with a knee-length skirt and shoves him into the bathroom to try it on. When he comes back, still in his black converse and beanie, she beams.
“Make-up?” She asks, and Jughead’s eyes widen in horror as he backs away from her and into the window.
“No. God, Vee -”
She laughs, pulling him forward by the hand.
“Okay, okay. Not too much, just some eyeliner and a little lip gloss, c’mon, Jug.”
Jughead sighs in defeat, sitting down in front of her vanity, and she squeals excitedly, getting to work right away.
In the end, Jughead sits on her bed in grey leggings, a periwinkle zip-up hoodie, and her red dress, swinging his conversed feet back and forth against the wood as he fidgets with his beanie and tries not to touch his sheeny lips and black-coated eyes, blushing.
Veronica, meanwhile, leans down and grabs his discarded clothes, disappearing into the bathroom.
When she comes back, she’s clad in his ripped black jeans and his t-shirt with the holes in it, his leather jacket shrugged over her shoulders. She’s hung chains through his belt loops, and painted her nails deep red and her lips the same shade, eyelids black and silver like the moon. Her heels click sharply against the hardwood floor in the hallway, and Jughead’s eyes go wide when he sees her.
“Shit,” he breathes, and Veronica laughs, hanging her head with a blush.
There’s some rustling and suddenly Jughead’s beside her, taking her hand and leading her over to the full-length mirror hanging on her closet door.
She looks at the two of them, Jughead smiling at their reflection, and smiles back.
“We look awesome ,” she says, and Jughead laughs.
twenty questions
we tell the truth
They head to Pop’s in their get-ups, ignoring the looks shot their way. It’s a wonderful thing, Veronica thinks, Jughead’s expression. It’s the happiest he’s ever seemed.
When they open the door to the diner, all eyes turn to them. Veronica giggles, hopping up and down in excitement, and Jughead smirks as his eyes flick around the resturant at the shocked patrons.
Suddenly there’s a clattering sound as someone drops their fork to the floor. Jughead turns his head in the fork-dropper’s general direction, a sharp retort on his lips, but it dies in his throat as soon as he sees who it is, cheeks flaming.
Veronica snickers at the love-stricken looks on both her best friend and his best friend’s faces, just staring at each other like they’re the only two people in the room.
Archie stands up, eyes locked on Jughead as if in a trance, and wanders over to them. He stops right in front of Jughead, less than six inches apart, and takes his best friend’s hands in his, running his thumbs marvellingly over Jughead’s black nails. Jughead bites his lip, grinning and blushing like a virgin.
“God, princess,” Archie whispers, breathless, and Veronica raises her eyebrows at the nickname. “You look beautiful.”
Jughead beams, bright as the sun, and Archie leans down to press a kiss to his best friend’s cheek.
Jughead turns scarlet, and Veronica thinks this must be what love at fifty-seven-thousandth sight looks like.
you’ve been stressed out lately
yeah, me too
“Archie is so gone for you, Jug.”
She says it when they’re walking home, swinging at least once around every street light, and Jughead smiles, eyes distant.
“Yeah,” he whispers. “I know.”
Veronica grasps Jughead’s wrist, eyes widening.
“You know?”
Jughead nods, eyes flicking to her, and he grins.
“Of course I know, Veronica,” he says flippantly. “He’s my boyfriend.”
Her nails dig into his skin as she stops him, forcing him to look at her.
“ Boyfriend ?” She hisses. “Jughead, what?”
He just smiles at her, shrugging.
“Yeah.”
Veronica breathes in, wrapping her arms around his waist and pulling him into a hug.
“How long?” She whispers, voice muffled against the sweatshirt she let him borrow, and his fingers curl around her shoulders, his lips pressing a kiss to her head.
“A few summers,” he mumbles. “Couple years or somethin’.”
Veronica closes her eyes, breathing him in, and grins.
“Lucky boy.”
Jughead’s quiet, shivering against her.
“Him or me?”
Veronica pulls away, rolling her eyes as she takes his hand and tugs him forward.
“Him, dumbass.”
Jughead beams.
something gave you the nerve
to touch my hand
When Veronica gets home from school on Monday, there’s a folded piece of paper on her pillow. Her window is open, a single orange chrysanthemum sitting on its sill. Veronica smiles, lifting the flower to her nose and inhaling its perfume-like aroma.
She opens the note with one hand, the other still holding the flower, and feels her smile soften at the sight of Jughead’s handwriting.
I’m in love with a boy whose hair is the color of flames and autumn leaves
no one knows because we’re not allowed to love each other
because he’s my best friend and because he’s a boy
a boy whose eyes are the color of peanuts and grape jelly
but I told a girl whose hair is the color of midnight and ground pepper
she knows because we’re closer than most
because she’s my favorite person and because she’s a miracle
a miracle whose eyes are the color of tornados and mirror shards
she’s in love with a girl whose hair is the color of sunshine and guitar strings
I know because we’re closer than most
because I’m her partner in crime and because I’m an enigma
an enigma whose eyes are the color of marbles and undiscovered shipwrecks
I’m in love with a boy and she’s in love with a girl
because that’s okay and that’s allowed
because I trust her and she loves me and because I love her and she trusts me
because I’m going to hold his hand in the hallway tomorrow
because of you
and
I’m glad you know.
Veronica grins, eyes tracing the words over and over again until she can’t see straight. She puts the chrysanthemum in water and stares at the ceiling in the dark, and she dreams of kissing Betty and hugging Jughead and being alive.
it’s nice to have a friend
Veronica gets to school late, the unfortunate consequence of dreaming about marrying Betty Cooper (among other things), but when she does, the second period bell has just rung and students are flooding the halls, some at their lockers and others speed-walking down the hall.
As the kids clear into classrooms, Jughead and Archie come into view, laughing at Archie’s locker.
One of Archie’s hands is on Jughead’s waist, his other tangled in his boyfriend’s. They’re right in each other’s space, so close they’re breathing in each other’s air, and Veronica knows that there won’t be any doubt now whether those two are more than friends.
She approaches them with a smile.
“Hey.”
The boys turn to her, grinning, and Jughead’s eyes are twinkling like the day she first met him. He looks happy. They look happy.
Veronica licks her lips and bites down, beaming.
“I’m proud of you,” she whispers, and Jughead blushes, not answering.
His fingers curl around Archie’s sleeve and Archie’s arm closes around his waist as they start down the hall, Jughead shouting, “Pop’s later!” over his shoulder at Veronica before Archie kisses his cheek and renders him speechless.
Veronica smiles at them, and then to herself, thinking of how warm Betty’s hands are and how sweet her smile is.
The girl in question is waiting for Veronica when she gets to class, ready with notes to copy and jokes to whisper in Veronica’s ear.
it’s nice to have a friend
“And I want her, y’know?” Veronica says, hand in Jughead’s as they stare at her ceiling, lying on their backs in her bed. “Like, in my life and in my clothes and in my room.”
Jughead huffs out a laugh, shrugging.
“The first two, I get. The last one, not so much.”
Veronica’s brow furrows. She rolls over and props herself up on her elbows, looking down at him as he smiles.
“Whaddaya mean, Juggie?” She asks, curious, and he cards his fingers through her hair, eyes full of fondness and trust.
“I’m ace,” he says. “Like, super hella ace. Archie’s kinda the only one who knows.”
Veronica nods, slowly as she processes, and then says, “Why?”
Jughead shrugs.
“It’s nobody else’s business, dontcha think?” He asks. “I mean, why should anyone know about my boyfriend and I’s non-existent sex life but us, right?”
Veronica tilts her head from side to side.
“Yeah, I guess. That makes sense.”
Jughead nods, looking away, and Veronica drops down onto her stomach, holding her head up with one hand and grabbing his with the other.
“Why tell me, then?”
The ghost of a smile crosses Jughead’s face.
“You’re my best friend.”
Veronica loses her breath, shuffling closer, wanting him to look at her.
“I thought that was Archie,” she whispers, and Jughead turns on his side then, facing her and taking her other hand.
“He’s the love of my life, Vee,” he murmurs. “But you’re my best friend. Have been since the day we met, I think.”
Veronica grins, squeezing his hands and giggling, and Jughead grins back at her glee.
“Wanna watch some shitty rom-coms?” She asks, real quiet, and Jughead nods vigorously, laughter in his eyes.
“God, yes please.”
church bells ring
carry me home
It’s on a Wednesday that she kisses Betty Cooper.
It’s raining, and she’s cold, and she’s wearing Jughead’s leather jacket because he threw it at her halfway through fourth period, yelling across the room to “Put it on, Lodge, or I’ll come over there and make you!” She’d asked him why after class, dragging him to the girls’ bathroom for a little chat, and he’d just smirked and told her that she’d dropped her pencil five times already cause she’d been shivering so badly. She’d hit him and he’d laughed and that had been that and now here she is.
Sitting in one of those little bus stop boxes, alone and shielded from the freezing rain, and then Betty had come running up with her books over her head, soaked from head to toe and breathless but still beautiful, always beautiful.
“Hey,” she’d said, laughing. “Miserable out here, isn’t it?”
And Veronica didn’t have any good response to that so she’d just taken Betty’s face in her hands and kissed her.
Now she’s got Betty’s number and a date on Friday night and kiss-swollen lips and she calls Jughead, collapsing back onto her bed with red cheeks, running her fingers through her hair and laughing breathlessly.
She tells him everything, down to the last detail, and he listens until her phone battery dies and then hugs her for a good five minutes in congratulations at school the next day.
She can’t stop smiling, and she tells Jughead she thinks he knows what he was talking about now, breathing in Betty Cooper all day in place of oxygen.
rice on the ground looks like snow
“What was this?”
She’s wanted to ask since she first arrived in Riverdale, seeing the empty razed land that everyone seems to pause to look at. It was something once, she knows, and she wonders what.
“I pass this place every day on my way home,” Veronica says softly, coming to a stop in front of the field and forcing Jughead to do the same beside her. “But I don’t know what it was. No one will tell me, they just say to ask you.”
Jughead shrugs next to her, not looking up, hands in his pockets as he kicks at pebbles on the pavement, sending them flying into the abyss of wildflowers and overgrown grass.
“Don’t know why.”
Veronica snorts.
“Yes you do.”
Jughead sighs, shrugging again, and turns away, starting forward once more.
“A drive-in movie. I was the projectionist.”
Veronica grabs his sleeve, pulling him back.
“It was more than that, Jug, I can tell.”
Jughead won’t meet her eyes.
“Jug.”
“This is where I used to live,” he blurts, hands suddenly shaking as she grasps them. His voice breaks, eyes glassy as they lock on hers. “This was my home.”
Veronica breathes in deep, squeezing his hands as a horrible sinking feeling grows in her gut.
“And where do you live now?”
Her voice is soft, gentle, but he looks away, trying uselessly to tug his hands from hers. She sighs.
“Jughead…”
His lip quivers and she threads their fingers together, lifting his hands to her mouth to press a kiss to his knuckles.
“Jughead,” she whispers, warm breath on his hands. “Juggie. Where do you live now?”
A sob rips past Jughead’s lips and he crumples to the ground, so fast she almost doesn’t catch him.
“The school,” he blubbers. “The school, Vee, I sleep in the janitor’s closet at the school.”
Veronica’s breath hitches as tears spring to her eyes. She cards her fingers through his hair, gently slipping his beanie from his head as she rocks him back and forth.
“Okay. Okay,” She whispers. “Shh, it’s okay.”
God, she’s gonna have to call Archie and tell him later. He’ll never stop beating himself up over this. She won’t either.
I mean, god, if it was Betty, she’d…
“Why didn’t you tell me?” She murmurs, voice wavering. Jughead shakes his head, eyes squeezed tightly shut. “Why didn’t you tell Archie?”
“I don’t know,” Jughead whispers brokenly. “I don’t know.”
Veronica takes a deep breath, closing her eyes for a second. Then she opens them again and helps him to his feet, taking his hand and helping him curl his fingers around his beanie as he sniffs.
“Okay,” she murmurs. “Okay. Let’s go home.”
call my bluff
call you babe
When they get to Veronica’s house, Veronica’s so tired she can barely stand. Jughead can’t keep himself on his feet at all, collapsing onto her bed as soon as he’s close enough. His eyes slip shut and he’s snoring within seconds, hair touselled and face pale, and Veronica cards her fingers through his midnight black strands, sighing.
She dials Archie’s number on her phone, kicking off her shoes and closing her door before settling back down on the bed next to Jughead.
“Hey, Ronnie,” Archie says when he answers, and Veronica feels a smile flit across her face at his voice. “What’s up?”
“Jughead’s homeless, Archie,” she whispers, Jughead snuffling in his sleep beside her as her fingers brush across his forehead. “He’s living at the school.”
She can hear Archie’s breath hitch in his throat, imagining his eyes welling up with tears. His voice cracks when he answers, heartbreak ringing clear in her ears.
“Why didn’t he tell me?” He says. “Why didn’t I notice? God, Ronnie, why -”
“I don’t know,” she whispers, a tear slipping down her cheek. “I don’t know, Arch, and I don’t think he knows either.”
A small sob escapes Archie on the other end, and she knows he’s probably running his fingers through his hair, trying to breathe.
“Why?” He rasps. “Why?”
Veronica looks down at Jughead, bags beneath his eyes and fingers twitching as they curl around her covers. She pulls the hem of his shirt up a few inches, revealing blue and green skin, and smiles sadly.
“I have a theory.”
have my back everyday
“When were you going to tell me?”
Jughead fidgets with the hem of his sleeve, not looking up as she stares at him with pain in her eyes.
“When were you going to tell me, Jug?” She whispers, reaching out for his hands. “God, when were you going to tell Archie ?”
He raises his eyes to meet hers, slowly, and they’re dark and stormy, raging with sadness and shame.
“I just woke up, Veronica,” he says, voice tight. “Can we talk about this later?”
She shakes her head, laughing exasperatedly, and Jughead winces.
“No,” she says, breathless. “No, Jug, we can’t. How long has this been going on? How long has he been hitting you?”
His eyes grow cold, lips pursing as his fingers stiffen in hers. He looks away, jaw tightening, and Veronica sighs, fidgeting with his fingers.
“Jughead,” she says, softly, and tears spring to his eyes.
“Why does it matter?” He whispers, voice breaking. “God, Vee, I got out. I’m out, I’m fine, I’m -”
“Homeless,” she says, and his eyes snap up to hers. “You’re homeless, Jug, you’re not fine. And you’ve still got bruises, new ones. When’s the last time he hit you?”
Jughead hangs his head in defeat, shrugging.
“Few weeks ago. I went home one afternoon, just to get something I forgot. I don’t even remember what it was, it wasn’t important, but I didn’t think he’d be home and then -”
His breath catches in his throat. Veronica shushes him, kissing his knuckles as he closes his eyes.
“Jughead, I -”
“He’d been drinking,” he rasps. “The whole trailer was trashed, he’d been throwing things around, and I tried to leave but he saw me and he threw a bottle at me and it broke against the wall and he cornered me and he kicked me and he, and he -”
Jughead’s breaths are coming quicker and quicker now, eyes wild and glazed over, as if he can’t even see her. His hands are shaking and she’s tugging at them, trying to get him to snap out of it, to look at her, but he can’t.
“I called Archie,” Jughead whispers, face and voice wet with tears. “I was lying there on the floor, curled in on myself and trying not to throw up, and I called Archie. I told him I loved him, and not to look for me, and he kept asking what was wrong and I had to lie to him, Vee, I told him I was fine and it was nothing and I was gonna run away but I -”
He suddenly snaps his mouth shut, squeezing his eyes shut, and Veronica closes her own, grasping his hands like a lifeline.
“But you?” She murmurs gently, and Jughead shakes his head, his entire body trembling.
“I couldn’t leave Archie,” he whispers. “I love him, I love him so much. I couldn’t just hop town and never see him again, Vee, I -”
“So you stayed,” Veronica says, eyes opening and widening as she realizes what he’s trying to say. “So you stayed, and you never told him, and you were living in the drive-in but they tore it down and you’ve been scraping by at the school and sleeping over at Archie’s or mine whenever you can. All to stay with him.”
Jughead nods, bottom lip quivering, and Veronica pulls one of her hands from his to touch his cheek.
“It’ll be okay,” she whispers. “We’ll get you out of it. Archie and I, we’ll do everything we can to get you out. We love you, Jug. He loves you.”
Jughead sobs, slumping foward into her arms, head dropping onto her shoulder and body sagging against her.
“I know,” he cries. “I know, I know.”
Veronica closes her eyes, holding him tight against her and cursing his father’s name over and over in her head.
You got out, she thinks. You got out, and you found Archie and Betty and him , you got out. You’ll get him out. You will.
She pictures Jughead smiling, that day in her dress and in Archie’s arms and in Pop’s.
You’ll get him out if it’s the last thing you do.
feels like home
stay in bed
the whole weekend
“My dad.”
They’re five minutes from Veronica’s house, on their way to Archie’s. Jughead’s hands are in his pockets as he drags his feet against the ground, and it’s been tense silence and mutters under breaths until Veronica’s words. Jughead won’t look at her, embarrassed, and she knows because she was too.
“What?” Jughead says, looking up then, and Veronica takes a deep breath. This time it’s her who avoids eye contact.
“My dad,” she whispers. “Hit me. Before.”
She can hear Jughead inhale sharply and closes her eyes, willing her feet to keep moving forward.
“That’s why we left New York,” she says. “He was away, on a business trip. That only happens once every nine years, so Mom and I took advantage of it. We grabbed all we could and we got out.”
She chances a glance at Jughead out of the corner of her eye, only to see tears glistening in his own. She cracks a small smile.
“We got out,” she murmurs. “We came here, and I met you. And Betty. And life gets better, Jug. It gets better.”
She reaches over and takes his hand, squeezing it. He meets her eyes and she smiles.
“I promise.”
Something sparks in his eyes, something bright and unextinguishable, and he opens his mouth to say something, leaning forward, when suddenly she can hear footsteps and they both look up.
Archie’s there, standing in front of his house that they hadn’t even noticed they’d reached, and his eyes are wide and pained as he looks into Jughead’s, whose quivering lips are stretching into a slow smile.
“Archie,” he whispers, staring at his reason for being here as if there’s nothing better in the world to him, and at his name Archie surges forward, running up to Jughead and wrapping his arms around his waist, kissing him like there’s no tomorrow.
Veronica backs away, letting go of Jughead’s hand as he wraps his arms around Archie’s neck, squeezing his eyes shut and finally letting the tears slip down his cheeks as Archie whispers apologies into his mouth.
“I’m sorry, princess. I’m so, so sorry.”
it’s nice to have a friend
Veronica goes home by herself. Jughead’s safe, safe in Archie’s arms and in Archie’s house and in Archie’s family, and he doesn’t need Veronica anymore. At least not to cry to, not to whisper secrets in the dark to, because he has his person and he doesn’t need anyone else.
And she won’t blame him. Because she knows exactly what that’s like, pulling out a box from under her bed and shuffling through the letters she wrote Betty long before and after they first kissed. Because Archie is Jughead’s sunshine and Betty is Veronica’s music and that is the way life is supposed to be, so she’s not surprised when her mother comes upstairs and tells her they’re going back to New York, they’re going back home because her father’s been arrested and they’re free now, free and safe.
So Veronica nods, and smiles, and sighs, and waits until her mother leaves to write three letters, each to someone she knows she’ll struggle to learn to live without.
it’s nice to have a friend
To Archie, she says thank you. Because he’s her best friend’s boyfriend, and he’s the reason her best friend’s happy, and that’s all anybody really wants for their friends, right? And Archie cries and she makes fun of him, but she starts crying too when he hugs her and she realizes that it’s the first time he’s done that. And now it’s the last too.
To Betty, she says I’ll miss you. Because I love you is a cruel thing to say when you’re saying goodbye and she doesn’t want to leave Betty that way, hanging onto Veronica like she’s something that has handles. And Betty kisses her and says she’ll wait for her and says they’ll make it and says she’ll see her in college and Veronica smiles, because that’s what you’re supposed to do when someone’s lying to make you feel better. And Veronica kisses her back, praying for a little longer against Betty’s lips.
To Jughead, she says I love you. Because she’s saying thank you and she’s saying I’ll miss you and she’s saying goodbye but she means all she says, and she wants him to remember her in fifty years when he’s watching his and Archie’s grandkids run around in red dresses and grey beanies. And Jughead holds her like he’ll never let go, whispering just that into her shoulder as she closes her eyes and breathes in the smell of his safety and love and tells him it’s fine, she’ll be fine. And he says he’ll be too while they smile at each other like strangers on a crowded city street.
And Veronica leaves, and Archie and Betty and Jughead watch her, and Veronica thinks that she missed New York, but she’ll miss home more.
three years later…
it’s nice to have a friend
“Vee.”
Veronica pauses, because no one’s called her that in three years and only one person ever did in the first place. Besides, she’s got music at home that calls her Ronnie and doesn’t know about the ring in Veronica’s sock drawer, waiting to play music’s fourth finger for the rest of their lives.
“Vee,” the voice says again, and this is when Veronica turns around.
Her lips spread into a grin as she takes him in, three years older and not any less beautiful. He’s wearing a red dress over black jeans with converse and a leather jacket, a grey beanie on his head. He lifts his hand in a wave and she sees the ring on his fourth finger, and, more importantly, the smile on his face.
She beams and runs to him, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling into a hug, laughing as he does, wrapping his arms around her waist and spinning her around.
“What are you doing here?” She shrieks, pulling away and grabbing his face, and he laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners as she leans in and kisses his cheeks.
“I live here,” he says, breathless. “Archie and I live here, together, I think right down the street from you and Betts.”
And Veronica grins, putting her arms back around his neck and pulling him down into a hug again, rocking them back and fourth as she buries her face in his shoulder.
“It gets better,” she mumbles, blinking back the tears in her eyes as she clutches at her best friend. “I told you, it gets so much better.”
And Jughead grins, pressing a kiss to her hair and squeezing her.
“So it does, Vee. So it does.”
I just want love,
a little bit of change.
I just need you, your company.
I just need you, you’re ecstacy.
- Neon Dreams