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The air is sticky and Betty’s hair isn’t really cooperating. She’s brushed it up into her usual ponytail no less than six times in the past half hour, but every single time there’s a traitorous bump or a section of flyaways that she can’t really tame, so she’s got to take it down and start again. It’s Archie she’s hanging out with, so she knows this is only for her benefit — he won’t notice the microscopic imperfections in her ponytail, he’ll just tug on it when he says hello, the way he always has...but still. It should be perfect.
Today, she thinks, will be as close to perfect as she can make it. Maybe she’ll just have to leave her hair down, though.
They haven’t spent more than a few hours here or there in...well, in years, if she thinks about it. It’s just that after senior year, things were hard — they kind of distanced themselves for a little while, because it was safer, easier, less painful. Then, slowly, they’d started talking again. A phone call here, an email there, a text that led to a whole conversation. Freshman year of college passed and Archie visited his mom in Chicago instead of coming back to Riverdale in the summer, so she’d taken his virtual presence over his physical one, even though she’d missed him being just a window away. They talked a lot over the summer, making plans for road trips that never happened, telling each other about parties they’d gone to and wished they hadn’t. Sophomore year had been a little more of a blur — a quick pace for both of them, but they’d gotten into the habit of talking at night because neither of them slept much, and they needed company in their moments of insomnia. Archie went on a date and came home to call Betty. Betty stayed late at the library, got kicked out, and called Archie on her walk home. If she really thinks about it, she talks to Archie more than she talks to anyone else — they log hours on the phone, burn through text chains, and send each other stupid memes on Instagram...which she doesn’t really do with anyone else.
They’re both back in Riverdale for the summer between Sophomore and Junior year, and they’re actually going to hang out for the first time in years . Sure, they’ve seen each other — a quick burger at Pop’s, a hug on her front doorstep, a few hours in Archie’s garage with his guitar slung over his lap — but never for too long, and never with the whole summer stretched out in front of them.
She’s been trying not to make it a monumental kind of thing — because, really, it’s not a big deal. It definitely doesn’t feel like maybe this is a date, or something stupid like that. The six ponytails were just a fluke.
Anyway, she’s finally finishing the seventh ponytail, which is actually cooperating, when she hears the doorbell. She smooths her hair down one more time and grabs her bag — everything she needs for a day at Sweetwater River, and then some — before heading down the stairs. She swings open the door and he’s hugging her before she can even see him, really, but it’s probably the best feeling in the world, Archie’s arms around her, his body engulfing her. “Hi,” she laughs, wrapping her arms around him, “jeez, Arch, you could try a little harder to knock me down, next time.”
“Sorry,” he laughs, his face pressed against her hair. He tugs lightly on the end of her ponytail, “sorry, I just got excited to see you.” He releases her, still laughing, and steadies her on her feet before he steps back. “Hey,” he clears his throat, grinning at her. “Hi.”
She laughs but gives him a once over. God, he looks good. He’s filled out even more in the past few years and his t-shirt is tight across his chest, over his arms. His face is...well, his face, but there’s a lot more facial hair than he had back in high school, and a hint more exhaustion. She finds his eyes and he’s already looking at hers. Fuck. She flushes a little and looks down at her bag. “Hi,” she laughs, lifting the bag up and hiking it over her shoulder, “ready to go?”
Archie puts his hand on the small of her back to lead her to the car, his thumb brushing over her waist. She shivers a little. He opens the door of his truck for her, waits for her to get in, and then closes her in. She looks over at the empty driver’s seat while he hustles around the car.
This feels suspiciously like a date. She presses her lips together and pushes that thought out of her head as Archie hops into the pickup and starts talking about all the different kind of sandwiches he’s got in his backpack for later, grinning over at her when he mentions the peanut butter and marshmallow fluff he’d made especially for them to split. A delicacy from their childhood – she feels lucky she’s even getting half .
Okay, so he’s...providing food. It’s not like friends wouldn’t do that.
The ride out to Sweetwater is quick, and she’s glad Archie fills it up with chatter — about his Mom, about Vegas, about school, about his plans for the summer. He seems to get that she needs to be quiet, and she really does love how well he knows her, even now. They pull into a spot and he throws the truck in Park, leaning back in the seat and looking over at her. She looks back at him, raising her brow.
“What’s on your mind, Cooper?” He chuckles, turning his body a bit so he’s facing her more than the road. “And don’t say nothing, ‘cause it’s something.”
Betty smiles, looking down at her lap. His hands are really close to her legs.
“Just happy,” she says, her voice soft. She keeps her eyes down at her legs, his hands, for a long moment before looking back up at him, “happy to be here with you, you know? I’ve missed you.”
She expects him to say something about how they talk every day, or how they’re together right now – how could she miss him? He surprises her, though, and slides his hand over her knee, giving it a soft squeeze. “I’ve missed you, too, Betty.” She feels her mouth curve into a smile, laughing as she catches his eye, a matching smile on his face. “Now, c’mon, that water’s calling my name.”
They make their way down to the water and she feels her hand brush against his, then his against hers. They trade little touches back and forth and she thinks maybe he doesn’t mean to, maybe it’s just…casual. Except, it doesn’t feel casual. She can practically still feel his hand on her knee.
She tries to push the idea that this could potentially be a date with her best friend who, yes, she knows has had feelings for her in the past and, yes, who she has maybe thought about with his clothes off a time or two when she’s lonely (okay, more than a time or two). It doesn’t really work, but she tries. He’s not exactly helpful in that department, though, because as soon as they get to what seems like a reasonable patch of grass, he drops his backpack on the ground and pulls his t-shirt over his head. Before she can even really look at his body, he grins at her over his shoulder at her, gives her a wink, and takes off running towards the river. He shouts a, “let’s go,” over his shoulder and she can’t help the laughter that bubbles up in her throat because he is truly the only person she knows that can be both an unabashed child and a full on adult all at the same time.
The water, once she’s in, is colder than she thought it would be – but there aren’t too many people at the river today, and it feels incredibly peaceful to just wade in and cool her skin down. Peaceful, that is, until she feels a hand grab her by the ankle and tug her gently. She shakes her foot out of Archie’s grip and scowls at him when he bubbles up to the surface, laughing as he raises his brows at her. “You’re not getting out of going under, you know,” he says, water dripping off his face. She rolls her eyes and goes to swim away from him – her hair is up because she knows she’s going under the water and didn’t want to have to deal with it wet and down, but Archie would never think of something like that, so she decides to mess with him a little.
“I’m not going under, though,” she floats back a little, keeping her neck up so that the bottom of her ponytail is the only thing touching the water, “funny how you think you’re going to convince me otherwise.”
“I don’t need to convince you of anything,” she bites on the inside of her cheek to hold back a laugh, raising her brow as he swims closer to her, “’cause I’m not taking no for an answer.”
He’s circling her, now, his mouth below the surface, his brows raised. She’s about to come back at him again about how dorky he looks when he wraps his arms around her and she lets out a squeal as he mumbles, “take a breath,” and waits for her to inhale before he submerges them both under the water, holding her around her waist. She can feel his laughter, her back pressed against his chest, and she doesn’t even care that her façade is broken when they resurface.
They mess around in the water for a bit, Archie even hoisting Betty up onto his shoulders for a minute, then launching her off, laughing as she lands a few feet away with a splash. She doesn’t think about how his hands are on her thighs, her waist. How he’s pulled on her ponytail more times than she can count, how she’s brushed his hair out of his eyes at least three times already, how she locked her legs around his waist and he pulled her in close, touching his forehead to hers for a long moment before dipping under the water and sliding out of her grip.
She just lets it happen, relishes in how natural it feels to just be with him.
They get themselves out of the water for a bit, lying on a blanket and devouring sandwiches, hungry from the swimming and the laughing and the anticipation she thinks maybe they both felt going into today. She’s lying flat on her back with her forearm over her eyes, her other hand pressed flat into the blanket when she feels his hand bump hers. They’ve been quiet for a long few moments, and she doesn’t want to open her eyes and peek over at him because if he’s looking at her she thinks she might die. Instead, she flips her hand over and feels him slide his palm over hers, lacing their fingers together.
Okay, so maybe it is a date?
She squeezes his hand softly and opens one eye, tilting her head towards him. His eyes are closed, but his face is angled towards her. She takes him in slowly, sucking in a breath as her eyes scan over his face, trying to find every little difference from the past two years. There aren’t that many, but there are more than she thought there’d be – his jawline, his facial hair, the wrinkles around his eyes, a tiny scar near his cheek. She wants to reach out and touch it. Instead, she jumps when Archie mumbles, “quit staring,” with a laugh in his throat. His eyes are still closed.
“How’d you know I was staring,” she grumbles, rolling herself a little closer to him. “Maybe I was looking at something behind you.”
He scoffs, his eyes still shut, his eyebrows high on his forehead. “You’re a bad liar, you know that?” Betty lets out a laugh. “Well, maybe you’re just a bad liar when you lie to me.”
“That’s probably it,” she says, her voice soft. She keeps her eyes on him for a long moment, feeling the smile on her face. “You falling asleep?”
Archie yawns, trying to hide it and failing, laughing and then opening his eyes. He squeezes her hand. “Fall asleep on you? Never,” he rolls so he’s on his side, looking back at her. “I like being here with you.”
“I like being here with you, too,” she breathes, wanting to lean in, kiss him, crawl on top of him. Instead, she stays still, her hand in his. They breathe at each other, her eyes searching his face, his eyes doing the same.
They hop back in the water when the sun is too hot on their skin, and this time Betty stays close. Her legs wrap around his hips, his arms wrap around her waist. They float around, quiet, content. She feels him press his face against her shoulder and combs her fingers into his hair, “Arch?” She wants so badly to sound certain, sure. Instead, her voice betrays her a little, cracking at the edges. He lifts his head. “S’this a date?”
She hates herself the second the question leaves her lips, but – okay, him picking her up, hugging her, opening the door for her, bringing her food, being sweet, holding her hand…it feels very date-like, as natural as everything has been, and she just…needs to know. It’s not going to change anything.
Unless it’s not a date, in which case she will need to swim upstream and join the witness protection program, maybe.
Archie’s smiling at her, but Archie’s always smiling at her.
“Well,” he says, his voice soft. He catches her eye, looks straight at her. “Yeah. I thought so.”
“Yeah?” She hates how big her smile feels but the joy that floods her is too much to hold in. She scratches her nails against the back of his neck, her body sagging in relief. “I just…I wasn’t,”
“You know,” he says, his face close to hers. She can feel his breath on her skin, “I don’t just make peanut butter and fluff sandwiches for anyone, right?”
She starts to roll her eyes – to say, “shut up, Arch,”, but he cuts her off, kissing her full on the lips. He pulls her in as close as he can, one of his hands sliding up to her hair and tugging ever so gently on her ponytail.
When they pull back, she keeps her eyes closed. She leans her forehead into his, a smile on her lips. “Quit staring,” she mumbles, and he laughs into her mouth, kissing her again.
Later, when they’re watching the sunset all wrapped in a blanket, her pressed into his side in the cab of his truck, she leans her head into his shoulder. She feels him press his face against her damp hair, now free from the seventh ponytail. She trails her thumb over his kneecap and he laughs against the top of her head.
“Pretty good plan,” he says, his voice low, “don’t you think?”
“Plan?” She furrows her brow. He takes her hand from his leg and laces their fingers. The summer sunset casts pink and orange over the water. “What plan?”
“Tricking you into a date with the whole summer waiting for us,” he shrugs. She lets out a soft laugh, shaking her head and peeking up at him.
“Yeah,” she nods, kissing his chin gently, “pretty good plan, Arch.”