Archive of Our Own

When Archie is four years old, his dad tells him a new family is moving in next door. “I used to go to school with them a long time ago. They have a little girl who’s your age.”

Archie scrunches up his nose at that. “I don’t like girls.”

“Archie,” his dad scolds, like he does when Archie forgets to put his toys back where they belong. “That’s not very nice.”

“Sorry,” Archie grumbles, stacking the red block on top of the blue.

“Her name is Betty. You’ll be starting kindergarten together next year.” His dad hands him a yellow block. “You might even become friends.”

Archie doesn’t think that will happen, but he doesn’t say so. 

When he’s in second grade, his teacher calls his parents in after school for a parent-teacher conference. He sits at the small table in the back of the classroom, doing his spelling worksheet, while his Mom and Dad speak to Mrs. Gribrock quietly by her desk. He’s having trouble remembering how to spell the word friend, until he remembers what Betty told him – i comes before e, like in Archie.

His mom breaks the news to him at dinner that night.

“No,” Archie fights, his fork clashing against his plate as he drops it in anger. “That’s not fair!”

“Archie, I know it doesn’t feel fair. But Mrs. Gribrock thinks it’s what’s best for you.”

“I’m not taking second grade again,” Archie says defiantly, staring back at his parents across the table.

“You don’t have a choice, son,” his dad starts, looking at him in the same way he did last week when Archie fell in the backyard and skinned his knee so hard he drew blood. “I’m sorry, but your teacher said your reading level is not where it should be in order for you to move onto third grade.”

Archie says nothing else for the rest of the meal, trying hard to swallow the lump in his throat. If he has to take second grade again, everyone will make fun of him for being stupid. Except Betty, because she’d never call him something mean.

He tells her the next day, as they’re walking to school together.

“No way,” Betty says, ponytail swinging behind her as she shakes her head. “I’m not letting you get held back. Then we won’t be in the same grade.”

“My mom and dad said I have to be,” Archie responds, resigned.

Betty’s eyes light up with an idea. “Not if you get better at reading. I’ll tutor you.”

Archie perks up. “Do you think that will work?”

Betty nods enthusiastically. “We can do it every day after school. I’ll make sure you move onto third grade with me, Arch, I pinky promise.”.

She holds her pinky out for him, and he links his around it

When he finds out he passed two months later, the first thing he does is tell Betty, the ring he won at the arcade last weekend stuffed into his back pocket. Betty tells him they’re too young to get married, which he guesses is true. But then she tells him to ask again when they’re eighteen and she’ll say yes, and that makes him feel better.

He puts the ring back in his nightstand drawer when he goes home later that night.

Jughead is mad at him, and he has no idea why.

He ignored him in school all day today. Archie can’t think of anything he might have done to upset him or hurt his feelings. He sat next to him at lunch, just like he does every day, in the middle with Betty on his other side. He even offered him the second half of his peanut butter and jelly sandwich when he got full, which Jughead happily accepted.

He brings it up to Betty on their walk home. “He’s my best friend, I don’t want him to be mad at me.”

“I’m your best friend,” Betty responds, offended. She stops in her tracks on the sidewalk. He stops too, waiting for her.

“You’re first,” Archie playfully rolls his eyes, like she doesn’t already know that’s the case. “He’s second.”

Betty nods and continues walking, satisfied with his answer. They do their math homework together up in Archie’s room, Betty helping him with dividing fractions because he can’t remember how. She stays for dinner, and Archie forgets about the problem with Jughead.

But the next morning before the bell, Archie sees him sitting alone at the table in the corner of the classroom, nose buried in a book. He waits for Jughead to acknowledge him standing in front of the table, and either he doesn’t see him or he just doesn’t want to. Archie asks what’s wrong, and Jughead closes the book in a huff.

“You picked Betty as your partner for the science project,” Jughead explains, irritated. “And now I don’t have someone to do it with.”

Archie’s stomach drops. He points out, weakly, “You can do it with Kevin. He’s our friend.”

Jughead shakes his head. “It’s not the same. You always pick Betty over me.”

Archie feels terrible knowing he’s hurt his feelings. He doesn’t want Jughead to feel left out, and he never even considered the fact that he might. He and Betty have just always been each other’s partners.

“I’m sorry,” Archie says, remorseful. “We can be partners next time, I promise.”

Jughead rolls his eyes, like he doesn’t believe him. “Good luck telling Betty that. She’ll never give you up. ”

One blistering Saturday during the summer before eighth grade, Archie’s dad suggest they should head to Sweetwater River for the day. He asks if Betty can come.

“Sure she can. What about Jughead?”

“No, just Betty,” Archie tells him, shaking his head. The relationship between Betty and Jughead is tentative, no matter how many years pass. He’s accepted the fact that it always will be. They all hang out occasionally, but they both act differently when they’re around the other. Jughead becomes moodier and more withdrawn, and Betty becomes downright possessive. They feed off each other, and put Archie right in the middle. It’s just easier to keep his friendships with them separate, especially when it’s going to involve a whole day together. Jughead would probably enjoy coming to the river today, too, but he’s not going to choose him over Betty.

His dad nods after a moment, turning to walk out of his bedroom. He stops in the doorway, turning back around. “Do you like Betty, Archie?”

“Of course I like her. She’s my best friend,” Archie answers, perplexed.

“I know she is. What I mean is, do you like her?” His dad questions, eyebrows raised.

Archie rolls his eyes. “It’s not like that between me and Betty, Dad.”

“Sure.” He chuckles a little, like he doesn’t believe him. Archie watches him go, wondering why.

Archie spends the entire walk to Betty’s house wondering if he’s going to regret going into that closet with Veronica for the rest of his life. What if he’s really lost his best friend? 

The thing is, he’s not good enough for her. He never has been and he never will be. She doesn’t see it now, but she will one day. He’s just saving her the trouble. 

He runs through the possible scenarios in his head with every step, repeating them over and over – she’s going to tell me she hates me, or she’s going to say she won’t ever forgive me, or maybe she won’t even speak to me at all.

Instead, she asks if he loves her as the tears he put in her eyes fall down her cheeks, and somehow that’s even worse than what he ever could have imagined.

When Veronica suggests it’s time to tell Betty about their relationship, he’s apprehensive. He worries Betty will react badly like she did last time. The last thing he wants to do is hurt her again, springing this on her too soon.

But then she isn’t even upset, which it turns out upsets him.

“We’re both so lucky,” she tells him, smile wide. Archie wants to believe her.

He watches her with Jughead, and finally identifies what the feeling in the pit of his stomach has been the past few months. He thought it was just uneasiness, seeing the two people closest to him together in a way he never imagined they would be. Or maybe it was resentment, because he felt like Betty was being stolen away from him. His best friend replacing him with his other best friend as the most important person in her life. And it is all of that, but it’s something else, too – jealousy.

“They’re each other’s soulmates,” Veronica says as he watches Betty hug Jughead, like she’s trying to prove a point. “Good for them, don’t you think?”

Part of him always believed that, despite everything, all roads would lead to Betty in the end. But maybe that’s just not true anymore.

Later, Veronica confronts him about it. You were looking at Betty and Jughead wistfully... longingly... like you liked Betty. He reassures her that he’ll always like Betty only as a friend. What other choice is there, at this point?

Things go back to normal quickly enough after they kiss. He gets back together with Veronica, which Betty seems fine with. The way it’s supposed to be.

He and Betty don’t talk about it, and he tries his best not to think about it.

But he has to tell Veronica, the secret weighing heavy on his heart and mind. And she can tell he’s hiding something. 

When he does, she takes it better than he thinks she will. She chalks it up to nothing more than a “my life is in danger” kiss.

Archie thinks about that as he’s lying in bed later that night. He did think his life was in danger. They were both terrified, and looking for any form of comfort they could find in that moment. So Betty kissed Archie, and he kissed her back.

But if they really thought their lives were in danger, that they were about to stare death right in the face – shouldn’t they have been thinking about the people they love? Wouldn’t Betty be thinking of Jughead? Shouldn’t he have been thinking of Veronica? Why was their last decision, before facing possible death, to kiss each other?

He wonders if it was about their lives being in danger at all, or if it was more about a sliver of opportunity.

But nothing good can come of that thought, so he pushes it away.

His first few weeks in juvie are brutal. He’s shattered physically, emotionally, mentally.

Veronica comes and visits as often as she can, which he appreciates more than she knows. He doesn’t want to complain or worry her, so he tries his best to perk up when she’s there. He doesn’t know if he’d be able to make it through without her visiting. Reggie even comes with her a few times.

But Betty doesn’t visit, and that bothers him.

He knows she worked on his case with his mom all summer long, barely even sleeping or relaxing. She did all she could do, and he’s eternally grateful to her for that. But her not coming to see him still stings anyway, and he finally lets himself acknowledge that.

Jughead doesn’t visit, either. He knows they’re both busy with their own lives and their own relationship. He tries his best to ignore the twinge in his gut when another day passes by without a visit, because he doesn’t want to hold it against them. And he doesn’t, for the most part. He’s not the type to hold grudges, he never has been.

 He can admit that he’s more upset about Betty than he is about Jughead. They’re both supposed to be his best friends, but his relationship with Betty has always been held to a higher standard in his eyes. He would never explicitly say it’s more important, but it’s always kind of felt that way.

There was a time in their lives when they wouldn’t go a single day without talking, because the thought of not knowing what happened to each other that day was too daunting. There was also a time when they would drop anything or anyone to be there if the other needed them. And he still would do that for Betty, no questions asked. He’s just not entirely sure she would do the same for him anymore, which is difficult for him to face.

But then crawls through the grate into the woods, beaten and bloody, and Betty is the one waiting for him.

“What took you so long?” He asks her, relieved in more ways than one. He barely even feels the pain from the wound in his side now. Betty smiles, tears welling in her eyes.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

After the funeral and the get-together in his backyard, he doesn’t leave his bed for days. He’s not usually the type to wallow in his own misery, but this is different.

His dad is gone, and he doesn’t know how to deal with that.

Veronica stopped by earlier, but he told her that he just wanted to be alone. It’s been the same routine for the past few days. She comes over, hoping that day will be different. But it isn’t. Even though she wants to stay, he knows she understands. He still feels like a little bit of an asshole, because he knows she’s just trying to help. This morning she left with a kiss, and a promise to call him later.

He opens his curtains and sees the sun has just started to go down, when there’s a knock on his bedroom door.

“Come in.” He waits for his mom to enter.

But it isn’t his mom, it’s Betty. He’s a little surprised to see her, even though she texted him earlier today to check on him.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” Betty says, walking in and closing the doo her behind her. “Your mom let me in.”

Archie nods, taking a seat back on his bed. Betty sits down next to him. She doesn’t ask how he is, which he appreciates. She already knows.

“I was going through some old things today,” Betty starts, holding out her clutched fist in front of them. “And look what I found.”

She opens her hand, and Archie examines the object in her palm. He feels a smile stretching across his lips, something that feels foreign to him at this point. He looks up and finds Betty is smiling widely, too.

“Remember?” She asks, eyes wide. “When you and your dad went on that camping trip upstate and my mom wouldn’t let me come.”

Archie nods, taking the keychain from her palm to hold it in his own hand. He huffs a laugh, remembering how they both acted like it was the end of the world that she couldn’t come. “We were so disappointed.”

“Yeah,” Betty says wistfully. “When you came back, you told me your dad suggested you get me something at the campground gift shop to make me feel better.”

“I picked a bunny because it was your favorite animal.” Betty chuckles, and Archie dangles the keychain from his finger. He didn’t even remember getting her this, before now. It was almost eight years ago. This small gift felt so insignificant to him at the time, but it clearly meant more to her. In awe, he tells her, “I can’t believe you still have this.”

“Of course I do.” Betty looks at him, her face growing more serious. “It was special to me then, and it still is now. Because of you, and because of your dad, too.”

Archie sighs, lump immediately forming in his throat. He tries to swallow it down, but finds it’s useless.

“I feel empty without him,” Archie admits. He hasn’t felt ready to talk about it with anyone other than his mom, not even with Veronica. He hasn’t even cried in front of her since the funeral. But it’s different with Betty – she grew up with his dad, too, in a way no one else did. “I miss him so much.”

“I miss him, too” Betty says, voice thick. He meets her eyes and finds they’re already filled with tears. “He loved you so much, Arch. And he was so proud of you.”

Archie nods, letting the tears spill. Betty pulls him in then, and he wraps his arms around her, keychain still clutched in his fist. He doesn’t even know how long he spends with his face buried in her neck, listening to the sound of their cries mixing together. When he finally pulls back, his eyes are still wet, but he feels lighter than he has in days. Betty wipes her own tears, and then touches his cheeks to wipe his.

Once they’ve both calmed down, Betty says, “I can go, if you want to be alone.” Now that the dust has settled, maybe she’s worried she’s intruded, since he hasn’t really wanted to see anyone all week.

“Actually,” Archie starts, slight panic in his chest at the thought of her leaving. “Could you stay?”

Betty nods, small smile on her face. She looks relieved. “Of course.”

Veronica confronts him a few days later. “I talked to Betty today.”

 “Okay?” Archie says, dipping a fry in ketchup and shoveling it into his mouth. Veronica practically dragged him out of the house, declaring they were going for dinner at Pop’s.

“She said that she went over your house on Saturday and was there all night.” Archie nods. He thinks he knows where this is going, but he lets her continue. “You told me you wanted to be alone.”

“It’s not like I invited her over,” Archie explains, sighing. “She showed up.”

“I showed up, too. You still told me to go home,” she points out, voice sharp.

Archie shakes his head, growing annoyed. “We’re not fighting about this, Veronica.”

“I’m not fighting,” Veronica states, sitting up straighter. “I’m just asking.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Archie tells her, appetite now gone. “She was close to my dad. This is hard for her, too. We were just being there for each other, that’s all.”

“Right,” is all she says, but he knows she wants to say more.

“What?”

Veronica takes a deep breath, like she’s trying to stay calm. “I’m trying to be there for you, too.”

Archie sighs, feeling guilty. “I know you are.”

“But you’ve been pushing me away, Archie,” Veronica says, shaking her head like he doesn’t understand. She pauses, thinking, before speaking again. “It is not my fault that I didn’t grow up with you like Betty did.”

Archie shakes his head, aggravated. He can’t believe she’s really making an issue out of this right now. He tells her, pointedly, “It’s not my fault, either.”

Veronica looks taken aback for a moment, but she recovers quickly. She says plainly, “You’re right, it’s not.”

Despite his irritation at her making this into an issue right now, he does feel bad. “I’m sorry if I hurt you. It wasn’t intentional.”

“I know. I’m sorry, too.” Veronica softens then, reaching across the table to grab his hand. “And I get it, I do. Betty has known your family longer than anyone else. I shouldn’t be insecure or jealous about your friendship.”

Archie nods in agreement, reaching for his milkshake. “You have no reason to be, trust me.”

As it turns out, she does.

These days, Betty occupies most of his thoughts. If he's not thinking of her, he's thinking about how Jughead and Veronica were right about them all along. 

It doesn’t even matter now, though, because Betty put an end to it before it even started.

So Archie shoves the song lyrics into the back of his drawer, and shoves all the feelings that have begun overflowing back into his heart, and tries his best to go back to normal. Betty has already done so effortlessly.

But it’s not that easy for Archie.

And that becomes abundantly clear to them both when he decides, spur of the moment, to perform his song for her in front of the entire senior class at prom.

He watches her the whole time, tucked in close to Jughead in the middle of the dance floor. Every time their eyes meet, she looks as miserable as he feels.

As he strums the last chord, his gaze pulls sideways to Veronica. She doesn’t look miserable. She looks downright enraged. She looks at him from across the room, face as hard as he’s ever seen it. Then she turns and storms out of the gym.

When Archie walks off stage to go after her, he glances back at Betty. He can tell she’s anxious, understanding what’s happened. Jughead hasn’t seemed to notice.

When he walks out the door, Veronica is waiting for him. Her arms are crossed, but the cold exterior that was looking back at him a few moments ago is gone. She’s crying now.

“Fuck,” Archie says, chest aching. “Ronnie –”

“I’m not even going to ask what that was, because I already know.” She shakes her head at him in disbelief, then harshly wipes away the tear that falls down her cheek. “How could you do this to me?”

Archie looks down in defeat, trying to find the words. When he doesn’t answer immediately, Veronica speaks up again.

“If that one’s too difficult to answer, why don’t you answer something else instead.” Her voice is sharp with accusation. “Did something happen between you and her?”

Archie swallows down the tears creeping up his throat. He doesn’t want to hurt her any more than he already has, but he can’t lie. “Yes.”

Veronica nods and looks away from him, like she already knew what he was going to say. She starts crying even harder. Her voice gives out as she tells him, “I can’t even look at you.”

“I know it doesn’t make it better, but I never meant for this to happen, Ronnie,” Archie explains, starting to take a step towards her but deciding against it.

Veronica scoffs. “You never meant to cheat on me with my best friend, and then humiliate me at our senior prom? Good to know.”

Archie sighs, shame prickling his skin. He can hear the music filtering out from the gym through the doors. For a second he wonders what Betty is thinking right now, and then he feels even worse. “I’m so sorry.”

Veronica looks at him like she doesn’t even recognize him, which is fair. He barely recognizes himself these days. He’s not someone who cheats, lies, betrays the people he cares about. He’s not someone who falls for someone while he’s with someone else. Though he guesses he is now.

“Do you even love me?” Veronica questions weakly.

“Of course I love you, Veronica.” He has never stopped loving her. Now, it’s just a different kind of love than it was before.  

“Do you love her more?”

Archie shakes his head in refusal. He tells her, voice thick, “I can’t answer that.”

Veronica looks away from him, grief still shining in her eyes. But when she looks back a moment later, it’s been replaced with disgust. She nods like she’s accepting it, then says harshly, “That tells me all I need to know.” 

Jughead breaks up with Betty when he finds out, which Archie expected. He knows Betty did too, which is why she didn’t want to tell him in the first place. Days before prom, he had confronted Betty.

“We have to tell them.” He was practically begging her at this point. The burden of this lie and these feelings was becoming too heavy for him to bear.

“We can’t,” Betty said, shaking her head. “I can’t do that to Jughead.”

“You already did,” Archie responded, growing frustrated. “What are you going to do? Keep it a secret from him for the rest of our lives?”

“It’s better than the alternative,” Betty argued back.

Better than the alternative of Jughead dumping her. Better than the idea of ever being with him.

“I won’t lie to Veronica forever,” Archie snapped back, voice harsh in a way it’s never been towards Betty before. “She deserves better, and she deserves to know. Despite what you seem to think, so does Jughead. So figure it out.”

He hadn’t waited around to let her respond.

He tries his hardest to steer clear of both Jughead and Veronica, not being able to face either of them. That comes to an end the Tuesday after prom, their last week of high school. Archie goes to the bathroom after he turns in his English final, and Jughead is washing his hands at the sink when he walks in. He looks towards the door, and they both freeze.

Jughead scoffs, abruptly turning off the faucet. “Don’t say a word. I don’t want to hear anything you have to say, and I have absolutely nothing to say to you.”

Archie wants to apologize, but he keeps his mouth shut like Jughead asks. He at least owes him that.

He’s still standing in the doorway when Jughead turns to walk out. He stops for a second to look at Archie as he’s passing, shaking his head. He says, bitterly, “I should have known.”  

Then he leaves. Archie thinks they probably all should have known.

Betty is avoiding him altogether. At this point, they’re not even friends anymore. They’re nothing. And that hurts more than anything else.

He peaks through his window when he gets home later that day, hoping by some chance she’ll be waiting there for him. Her curtains are shut.  

Betty texts him on his birthday.

They haven’t spoken in months. It’s not even like he can blame the space between them, with her in New Haven and him in Annapolis. After graduation, they had a huge blowout fight, screaming at each other in a way he could have never even imagined they would. He was hurt, she was angry, and it had ended badly. He left the next week without saying goodbye, and neither have reached out since.

So he’s surprised when he wakes up and sees her name on his phone.

Happy birthday, Arch. Hope everything is going well.

It’s so formal, it almost makes him sick. Like they’re just strangers or mere acquaintances. Though he guesses that’s all they are at this point.

He’s thought about calling her or texting her about a million times over the past few months. He got pretty close to actually doing it a few times, but has had enough sense to stop himself. It’s not going to change anything. He wants more than she’s willing to give him, and patching up their broken relationship just to be friends again sounds like a bizarre form of torture he’s not willing to participate in.

He texts back a thank you, and expects that to be the end of it.

But she starts texting him more often, brief texts turning into paragraphs, short conversations turning into long ones. And he realizes he was an idiot to ever think not having her at all was easier or better than having her as just a friend. He’ll take what he can get.

He’s starting to think maybe it’s turning into more than that. Then, the summer after their freshman year, he finds out she’s back together with Jughead.

He finds out from Reggie, of all people. He knew Betty was going back to Riverdale for summer break because she told him so. He didn’t know Jughead was, but why would he? They don’t speak. Apparently a year was enough time to forgive Betty, but not him.

The worst part is, Betty doesn’t even bother to tell him. She stops texting, and he stops waiting for an explanation.

He has four weeks left of his second year in the Naval Academy when he drops out.

It’s something that’s been weighing on his mind for months. He knows this isn’t where he belongs. When he first started nearly two years ago, it was something new and exciting, a welcomed distraction. But all excitement wears off eventually, and when it does it reveals to Archie what he should have already known – this isn’t right, it never was. He came here for the wrong reasons, and that’s something he can’t ignore any longer.

He moves back to Riverdale and takes back over the community center, and he’s happier than he’s been in years. This is what he’s meant to do.

He gets his own apartment, despite his mother’s offer to move back into the house. He’s found that he likes living alone. Plus, in his own apartment he won’t be haunted every time he looks out his bedroom window.

He jumps awake to an incessant knock on his door.

He looks at the clock on the nightstand next to his bed. 1:26 glares back at him.

Who could possibly be pounding on his front door in the middle of the night? He grabs the bat under the bed as he gets up. You can never be too safe in this town.

When he gets to the front door, he pauses for a moment, preparing himself for anything. When he opens it, he sees about the only person he didn’t expect.  

“Betty?” He asks in disbelief, dropping the bat. It crashes to the ground, and Betty jumps slightly at the noise.

“Hi,” she says sheepishly. He didn’t even know she was back in town, but why would he? Archie wonders if this is just some cruel dream he’s going to wake up from soon.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Archie asks, when she doesn’t say anything else.

Betty swallows hard, her green eyes shining just as he remembers. He hasn’t seen her in nearly four years, but she’s still just as beautiful. “Can I come in?”

Archie opens the door wider, stepping out of the way to let her inside. He closes the door behind her, and waits for an explanation, an apology, anything.

First she says, “I missed you.” Then, she says, “I broke up with Jughead.”

It’s like a punch to the gut, and the last thing he expected to come out of her mouth. “What?”

“I said –”

“I heard what you said, Betty,” Archie says, cutting her off. “I just don’t know why you’re telling me. Or why you’re even here.”

Betty furrows her browns in confusion. “You don’t know why I’m telling you?”

Archie shakes his head, frustrated. “We haven’t spoken in years, Betty. We aren’t even friends anymore. And then you show up at my door in the middle of the night, to tell me you broke up with Jughead? What does that have to do with me?”

He can admit that deep down, he’s happy to see her. How could he not be? He’s been missing her for so long, a lifelong relationship ripped away from him in an instant without any warning. But the part of him that’s relieved to see her is still masked with hurt. 

“It has everything to do with you,” Betty tells him pointedly, stepping closer.

“Why?”

“Archie,” Betty starts, taking a deep breath. “I’ve spent the past two and a half years trying to make it work with Jughead, even though I knew it wasn’t right. It was comfortable, and it was safe, but it wasn’t right. I don’t want to be safe anymore.”

Archie takes a minute to process what she’s just said before responding. “I thought I was the safe choice. That’s what you said back then, at least.”

Betty shakes her head. She tells him miserably, “I was wrong. I’m so sorry. I’ll do anything, Archie, to make it up to you.”

Archie softens. He still can’t stay angry with her for long, even all these years later. And now he finally has the chance to ask the question that’s been weighing on him for years. “Why did you stop talking to me? And did you get back together with him?”

Betty sighs, biting her lip to stop it from trembling. “I stopped because it was becoming too much. I tried so hard to convince myself what I felt for you wasn’t real, and talking you every day wasn’t helping. It was just making it so much worse. I was running away from you and what I feel for you, which made me run back to Jughead. But I’m not in love with him anymore. I haven’t been for a long time.”

Archie can relate to that – being scared of what they have, of how strong the feelings between still are even all these years later. He holds his breath, feeling like he’s on the precipice of something. “So what now?”

“Now, I don’t want to run away anymore. I’ve spent the past four years doing it, and practically my whole life before that too,” Betty tells him, moving closer again. She reaches for his hands, and he lets her grab them. “Can you forgive me?”

Archie studies her. She’s still the same Betty Cooper he grew up with, the same one he fell for over and over again. And even though she’s saying everything he’s wanted to hear for the past four years, even though he understands her reasoning, he’s still upset with her. But he’s never been one to deny her anything – he doesn’t know how.

“Betty –”

“I love you, Arch,” Betty says, pulling his hands to her chest. She’s starting to cry now, and Archie feels like all of the air has been sucked out of the room. “I’ve known it all along, but I’ve just been too afraid to admit it.”

She looks back at him with dread in her eyes, like she fully believes he’s going to turn her down. Archie tries to speak, but he can’t get the words out.

“Do you love me?” she asks then, voice small. Archie’s chest aches. He takes a deep breath.

“Of course I love you,” Archie declares. Betty is waiting for the ‘but’, except he doesn’t have one for her this time. “I’m in love with you, Betty. I think I always have been.”

“You are?” He watches the tears fall down her cheeks, reminiscent of the time on her front porch, but this time she’s smiling instead. “I’m in love with you, too.”

Archie grins, pulling his hands out of her grasp to cup her cheeks. “Took you long enough.” 

Betty tries to bite back her smile, but it’s no use. It spreads across her face in an instant. 

Then he does what he’s been wanting to do every single moment since that day in his garage – he kisses her.

“Hey,” Archie whispers into the dark, shaking her bare arm lightly. “Wake up.”

Betty stirs, and after a few seconds asks, “What’s wrong? What time is it?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Archie tells her, amused at her groggy voice. He’s been hearing it every morning for almost a week now, but he still finds it just as cute. “And it’s early. The sun isn’t even up yet.”

Betty groans. “Then why are we up?”

“Because I’m taking you somewhere,” Archie explains. He taps her leg through the covers. “Come on, get up. We have to leave soon.”

He to make coffee, knowing Betty won’t fall back asleep. A few minutes later he sees the bedroom light turn on, and a few minutes after that she emerges. She’s wearing jeans and one of his sweaters, which makes him smile.

“Where are we going?” Betty asks, walking towards him in the kitchen. He adds a splash of almond milk to her coffee, just how she likes it, and hands it to her.

“It’s a surprise,” Archie tells her, stirring sugar into his own cup.

Betty takes a sip, then says, “I hate surprises.”

Archie grins. “I know. Let’s go.”

They have about an hour and a half drive ahead of them, but Betty doesn’t know that. She asks multiple times where they’re going, trying to get it out of him, but he won’t budge.

She lets out a big yawn, and then another a minute later. “I guess you tired me out last night.” 

Archie smiles smugly, looking over at her in the passenger seat. “You complaining?”

”Absolutely not,” Betty retorts, grabbing his hand and bringing it up to her mouth to leave a kiss on his knuckles. 

She falls back asleep after that, his hand entwined with hers on her lap.

They pull up just as the sun is starting to peak over the horizon. He wakes her again, watching as she looks around, trying to figure out where they are.

He gets out, walking to the back of the truck to put the bed down. Betty joins him a minute later.

“Where are we?” she asks, looking at the lake in front of them, sunrise beginning to glimmer on the water.

“This is where I used to come camping with my dad,” Archie tells her, wrapping his arm around her, still looking ahead. “I’ve been missing it lately. And you never got to come back then, so I thought I’d bring you now. At least just for a few hours.”

“It’s beautiful,” Betty says, amazement in her voice. “Thanks for bringing me.”

Archie nods, watching as sky turns orange right before their eyes. “Sunrises were my dad’s favorite. He said it was because they represent a new start every single day.”

He looks at Betty, her eyes shining back at him. She smiles softly. “I think that’s very fitting.”

A few moments pass, the sound of the water lapping the shore filling the air. Then, Archie remembers something. “Oh! Hold on.”

He hops down from the bed of the truck, opening the driver side door to dig through the glove compartment. After a minute, he finds what he’s looking for.

“Look what I found the other day,” Archie says, walking back to sit back down next to Betty. She looks at him curiously, and then down at his hand.

She gasps, and Archie smiles. “Oh my god. Is that what I think it is?”

Archie nods, chuckling lightly. He looks down at the ruby heart ring he’s holding between his fingers. It’s rusted over the years, but it’s still just as he remembers it. “I was going through some old things at my mom’s, and found it in the back of my drawer.”

Betty takes it from him then to hold it in her own hand. She looks at him in disbelief. “I can’t believe you kept this.”

“Of course I did,” Archie says, bumping her shoulder with his own. “That was a monumental moment in my life.”

“Mine, too.” Betty shakes her head, laughing. “Well, can I keep it?”

“Obviously,” Archie tells her, wrapping his arm back around her shoulders. “It was always yours, I was just holding onto it. Also, I promise I’ll get you a nicer ring when I actually propose.”

Betty grins, green eyes shining. “So you still want to get married all these years later, huh?”

“Oh yeah,” Archie says, leaning down to kiss her. When he pulls away, he says, “We knew what we were talking about when we were eight. It just took us both a little while to remember that.”

“Well, better late than never,” Betty points out, nestling into his side. He holds her close, and they watch the sun rise on a brand new day.