Archive of Our Own ^beta

once bitten, and twice shy
i keep my distance, but you still catch my eye

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Dear Santa, Archie writes, trying to be careful with his handwriting. I believe I’ve been a nice boy this year.

He scratches the first line off. No, this isn't good. If he starts the letter like this, Santa Claus will think he’s full of himself, and kids who aren’t humble are not worthy of getting what they ask for. He also can’t send a letter that’s all scribbled—it’d just made him look sloppy.

He rips the piece of paper from his notebook, crumpling it, and starts again.

Dear Santa,

Should he introduce himself again? He’s done that the past two Christmases, after he started writing letters to Santa on his own. Before that, he normally just signed the letters that his dad wrote for him.

Well, maybe Santa would remember him? But he did have a lot of kids to look after—maybe he a refresher would be goodt.

It’s me again, Archie Andrews, from Riverdale. I turned nine last July. Mom and Dad said they were really proud of me this year, because—

“Ooooh, there’s no way!”

Archie looks up from his letter. Reggie Mantle, one of his, kind of, best friends, sits on the table next to him, trying to read his letter. Archie covers it with his hand. Maybe writing his letter in the school library was a bad idea. “Hey, stop lurk—”

“Don’t tell me that you still believe in Santa Claus!”

Archie frowns. “Still? What do you mean?”

“V!” Reggie calls.

Archie, very confused, looks behind him to see Veronica Lodge appear from behind one of the bookshelves. She’s wearing a light blue headband in her short black hair. Archie feels his cheeks burn like they do whenever he sees her—Ronnie is cool; but she’s a girl, and Archie is always very much aware of that fact, because she might be the prettiest girl in the world. She calls him Archiekins sometimes, and it makes his stomach somersault in a weird way. He doesn’t really like it.

“Little Archie is still writing letters to Santa Claus!”

He hadn’t seen her there, and now he feels dumb. She comes closer with a slight roll of her eyes. “Leave him alone, Mantle. We don’t need to ruin his Chris—”

Veronica stops herself with a small gasp, placing her hand on her mouth. Reggie laughs.

“Can anyone tell me what’s going on?” Archie asks, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Santa Claus doesn’t exist!”

Archie scoffs. “Sure, right. Then, who stuffs my stockings every Christmas Eve?”

“Your parents, dummy!” Reggie keeps laughing, clearly finding the whole thing very entertaining. “Who else would?”

“That’s not true!” Archie says, and looks at Veronica for reassurance. Even though she moved to Riverdale only this school year, he trusts that she wouldn’t lie to him.

But the face she’s making—doll-like eyes full of sympathy—is telling him exactly what he doesn’t want to hear.

“Smithers. Our butler. I’ve caught him eating the brownies I left out for Santa,” she says, with a slight, shy shrug of her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Archiekins.”

Archiekins. His stomach flips, and he hates it. He narrows his eyes, feeling a bit sick, especially because Reggie keeps on laughing. “So, you two are telling me that this is all for nothing?” He holds up his unfinished letter. “My mom and dad would never lie to me! You’re the liars.”

He stands up, a little angry, shoving his pencil case and notebook in his backpack.

“Archiekins—”

“Save it, Ronnie.” He places his backpack on one shoulder and storms out of the library.

Archie bikes home faster than usual. His face is warm and red, and he wants his parents to tell him the truth now. Reggie is a goddamn troll, Archie knows that, but there was no reason for Veronica to act like that. Unless she likes-likes Reggie and is just doing that to please him.

The thought makes him even more annoyed.

“Tell me it isn't true!” He’s already shouting once he walks into the living room. The air smells like cinnamon, and his mother is in the living room with her feet up, an image that he only really gets during the holidays. She’s scarcely in the living room otherwise.

“What’s the matter, little Archie?” Mary walks up to him and gently removes his helmet from his head. “Tell you what isn’t true?”

“Reggie Mantle told me there’s no Santa Claus!” Archie says. In the library, he was just angry, but now he feels sad—he doesn’t want it to be true. One of the most fun parts of Christmas has always been writing down what he wanted, and getting exactly that. “He’s lying, right?”

His mom widens her eyes. “Oh, goodness. Fred!” she calls. Archie’s dad comes from the kitchen, wearing a holly patterned apron. “Look at the hour, Betty and Polly will be here at any minute. I’ll let you handle this, okay?”

“Handle what?” Fred looks at Mary for a moment and then at Archie when she goes upstairs. “Are you okay, son?”

“Reggie said his parents were the ones who got him presents on Christmas Eve,” Archie explains, inevitably pouting when Fred looks at him with tender eyes. “And Veronica said that she caught her butler eating the brownies she baked for Santa. They told me he doesn’t exist.”

Fred chuckles and puts both hands on Archie’s shoulders. “It’s kind of complicated.”

“I’m nine already! I can handle the truth, Dad.”

“Okay. But then you promise not to tell Reggie or Veronica? It could make them sad.”

“Cross my heart.” Archie places a hand on his left chest. Fred smiles.

“Sometimes, when kids end up on Santa’s naughty list, their parents will put presents in their stockings instead and pretend they’re from St. Nick.”

Archie knits his eyebrows together. “What? But—I thought only nice kids deserved presents. Why—”

Fred scratches his throat. “Well, uh, the thing is, when children are spoiled, their parents don’t want them to throw a tantrum on Christmas morning. That's why they lie. Just to keep the peace, you know. Even though that’s not a nice thing.”

Archie nods. Yeah, he can definitely see Reggie being a brat and taking it out on his mom and dad if he doesn’t get any presents, so it does make sense. He feels sorry for Veronica, though. Why wouldn’t she make Santa’s Nice List? Of course she was a little spoiled, but her grades were good, even better than Archie’s, and she was always nice to everyone. Especially to him.

(Well, she did say Cheryl Blossom was such a bitch, the other day. That wasn’t really nice, he supposes. But still.)

Fred rubs his red hair. “Do you wanna help me with the cinnamon buns before Betty and Polly get here?”

The buns are in the oven when the door rings, and Archie runs to open it.

Betty and Polly have lived next door ever since Archie can remember. It’s a tradition that the Cooper girls come bake cookies for Santa in the Andrews household every year. It’s always a fun time, especially because Betty is his best friend in the world (other than Jughead, of course). And even though she’s also a girl, she’s not a girl-girl, so he doesn’t feel nervous or nauseous around her. No hot cheeks, no somersaults.

This year, though, Polly has turned twelve, and she walks into Archie’s living room like she’s walking into church, or something. She seems already bored when Archie opens the door. When he says hey Pol, she barely answers, walking past him and plopping herself down on the couch. She got a phone for her birthday, and she spends a lot of time on it now, it seems.

When he looks at Betty, who’s still at his door, he realizes she’s been crying. Her nose is all pink like her sweater, and she’s holding her grandma’s recipe book against her chest. “Hey, Betty. Why the long face?”

“Reggie told me some nonsense about Santa Claus, and Polly confirmed it,” she says, holding her book even tighter.

Oh. He’s got this.

He places his hands on her shoulders just like his dad did a few minutes ago. “Betty, I am going to tell you the truth about Santa Claus, but you have to promise me that you won’t tell anyone about it. Not even Polly.”

Betty gives him a sweet smile, and Archie smiles back. He’s not really good at comforting people, but with his father’s brand new information, he definitely can add another point to his nice boy deeds.

20 years later

“And that’s the last one,” the mover tells him, placing the box in the middle of the living room. Despite the snow outside, Archie is sweating, winter gear long forgotten after going up and down the stairs carrying his entire life. “You’re all set.”

“Dude, thank you.” Archie opens his wallet to tip the guy a couple twenties for the effort. “You’re a boxing champion,” he jokes, chuckling to himself.

The mover knits his eyebrows, shooting Archie the flat smile of someone who didn’t find his joke so funny, but takes the money anyway before heading out with a quick thanks, happy holidays.

He looks around. The apartment isn’t particularly new, or big—two bedrooms, one where he intends to keep all of his music stuff, a bathroom, a kitchen/living room—and it’s just a rental, but it’s home. After years of not creating roots anywhere, it’s actually overwhelming to think about it.

He walks closer to the window, taking a look outside—it’s a very different view from the one in his old house on Elm Street. He’s a downtown man now, he guesses, since the apartment is right on top of a deli shop on 3rd, only a couple of blocks from Main.

The last time Archie wandered those streets, he was nineteen, driving back from the Old Church after his father’s requiem mass. In a phenomenon he can’t quite explain, it feels like Riverdale simultaneously moved on and stopped in time.

“Yeah, Archie. You really are back,” he tells himself under his breath. Looking at the boxes surrounding him, he lets out a long sigh. There were some pros to not having a permanent place, like never having to worry about furniture or decor but now he has so many things to set up to make his new place liveable. With that in mind, he starts with the box his mom sent from Chicago, full of the memories he left behind.

The first thing he finds is an old mug with the Andrews Construction logo on it – his father used to sit at the kitchen island every morning, quietly drinking coffee from one of those. It’s a wave of nostalgia that seems to hit harder during the holidays. He knows he’ll put it to good use for his own mornings.

There are also old pictures, one of which is the old gang: Betty, Reggie, Jughead, and Veronica, age eight or nine, all dressed up as Christmas elves before a school play. He smiles, remembering the people with whom he’s shared a life since they were kids, up until they left for college—well, most of them, he decided the Naval Academy was a better option. He's barely kept in touch with them, but he can’t deny some of his best days in life were spent with that crew.

He snorts as he places the frame on the kitchen island. Was that the Christmas Reggie tried to convince him that Santa Claus didn’t exist? It’s a fond memory, Fred trying to do damage control, even if Archie found out his father lied to him when he read the truth about St. Nick on a Wikipedia page a year later.

It was the end of an era, but he and Betty kept baking sweet treats for Santa every Christmas for years, just to keep the tradition alive.

Yeah. Those were definitely the good days.

Smiling a little, Archie fishes his phone out of his pocket. He still follows Betty and Jughead on Instagram, but his old neighbor and best friend doesn’t really post all that much, only occasional selfies and pastry pictures. And Jughead—if the photo of him taking a full bite of fried chicken with chopsticks, a different beanie on his head, is any indicator—is in a very different wavelength.

jughead ✔
alright, my first stop, 風来坊, was a solid yes. but is it the *best* karaage in tokyo? i won’t know until i try them all by new year’s eve. send your tips via dm.

Archie likes the picture, smiling. It’s funny that, of all of his friends, Jughead is the one who ended up as a social media influencer (for food, but still). Archie always imagined that Reggie or Veronica were the biggest contenders for becoming famous. But Reggie’s profile is all about the cars he sells and fixes in his father’s dealership, and Veronica’s is private. Archie never felt brave enough to add her, for some reason. He has no idea what she’s been up to.

There was a time when those streets were Archie’s entire world, and it’s weird that, after seeing it, he’s back to them.

Truth is, as a marine, he’s attended galas in New York City and funerals in pacific islands, but nowhere has ever felt like the old main drag—Riverdale was more than just a small town. Riverdale was meeting in the Mallmart parking lot on Fridays after football games, burgers in the middle of the night under Pop’s pink neon lights, driving down Sweetwater River for picnics during the summer, and ice-skating in Pickens Park during the winter.

The Christmas tree in the main square stands tall, as usual. Archie sees a father with his kid on his shoulders—the little girl trying to reach the ornaments with her tiny hands. He smiles longingly, thinking about his own father lifting him up so he could hang a golden star on the top of their tree.

Fred loved Christmas so much. Even after the divorce, he’d decorate the house, just so Archie would never lose that holiday spirit.

He thinks he should try to decorate his apartment. Sure, he definitely needs more furniture, but he could buy a tree and some fairy lights. His dad would like that.

But first, he needs to stop by a grocery shop. After two whole days unpacking, he’s hardly taken time to shop for the basics, surviving on what was sold by Goodie’s, the deli shop under his apartment. He needs to pick up a few more things, like cleaning supplies, as well. Who knew settling into a new home would be such a laborious task? He could also use a cup of hot chocolate to warm up his bones—he still needs to figure out how to work the heater or call his landlord because he still hasn't got it running.

As he turns around the corner on Maple Street, just a few blocks from 3rd, he spots a place that, even if new, looks like it fits seamlessly into Riverdale. A small cafe, La Belle Vixen, that announces baked goods and just what he was looking for: hot chocolate.

When he approaches, he hurries to the door to hold it open for an old lady that he thinks might have been his old librarian. By the look he gets, he’s certain—she was never fond of him ever since he stained a book with juice in middle school.

Inside there’s a heavenly smell of sugar, vanilla, cinnamon, and chocolate. It feels warm and the fresh scent of ground coffee makes him feel at home. He stands behind the line of four people waiting for service while watching the few tables filled with people quietly chattering. La Belle Vixen. It looks like a booming business even for a small town. Could it be one of the old cheerleaders who own it?

From his place, he can spot the chocolate chip cookies on the counter, making the mental note of ordering a couple to-go with his hot chocolate. A sugar rush is just what he needs to go through the day and get ready for the holiday season.

“Arch?”

When the person before him moves to the side, he finds himself face to face with someone he had hoped to see.

“Betty!” he answers as a smile grows on his face. “Are you the owner of this place?”

“Guilty!” she says, cheerfully, her cheeks turning pink as they often would when they were younger, when she had a crush on him. He chuckles, and she does too. “Oh, my. I feel like I haven’t seen you in—”

“Ten years, yeah,” he says, looking at her with a little more attention. Her blonde hair is longer now, tied in a low ponytail. She’s wearing a green sweater with her apron on top. “How have you been doing? I thought—”

The customer behind him huffs, a bit impatient. Betty shakes her hand. “Listen, if you're not in a rush…  Just give me a few minutes, then we can catch up. I want to know all about the time you’ve been away.”

“Sure.” He looks around and spots a table for two near the door leading to the kitchen. “I’ll sit over there.”

She smiles. It’s pretty much the same smile he remembers from school which is comforting. Truth is, ever since his father passed away ten years ago, he’s felt adrift. He’s been all over the world and that feeling of home wasn’t found anywhere else. He's happy to know that some things never change, like Betty working hard and being a perfectionist, paying attention to detail in everything she’s ever done.

It’s not long until Betty tends to the waiting customers and walks to the table with a small tray with two cups of hot chocolate and a plate of cookies he can’t wait to try, which is the first thing he does after thanking her.

“These are so good. They remind me of the cookies we used to bake for Christmas when we were little.”

“Well, it’s the same recipe from my Grandma’s cookbook, except now we use way better ingredients. They're some of our customers’ favorites, especially this time of year.” She takes a sip of her drink, and at this moment, it’s like time traveling. He’s with the same girl he used to go to Pop’s with before a semester started, sipping from strawberry milkshakes in the summer, wearing fluffy ear muffs in the winter. The same girl who taught him how to read when he was having trouble.

The same girl who told him she loved him when they were fifteen.

It was all very awkward. They were sophomores. He had taken her to the homecoming dance just because he couldn’t find the courage to ask the girl he actually wanted as his date (not that she would say yes), and suddenly, Betty was talking about seeing them as a power couple (or maybe just a couple!). Archie remembers standing there like an idiot before saying anything (Betty, I have never felt whatever it is I’m supposed to feel with you).

Their friendship was strained, for a while. When they finally walked back from it, she was more careful around him, more reserved. Archie understood and didn’t blame her. The fact is that, back then, he wasn’t lying when he said he never saw her that way.

But maybe there’s a reason why he found himself walking right into this cafe on his first day back home. Maybe it’s time he starts looking at what was always right in front of him.

“When did you open the cafe?” he asks, genuinely interested. He’s only seen bits and pieces of her life ever since moving away. He didn’t even know she was back in Riverdale.

“It’s been about two years now. I finished my journalism course, but it was kind of hard to find a job, so I moved back to work at the Register with my parents. Needless to say it didn’t work out.”

Archie laughs, biting into a cookie. He remembers Betty’s demanding mother.

“And I was actually a little bit lost until—”

Betty stops talking when a petite raven-haired woman emerges from what he guesses is the kitchen. She’s holding a tray with freshly baked brownies, and when her gaze meets his, all the thoughts inside his head vanish.

“Is that Archiekins?!”

Boy. It looks like Veronica Lodge still has the superpower to make his cheeks burn in less than five seconds.

“Ronnie!"

There’s an endearing gesture in the way she tilts her head to the side at the nickname. She rushes to him, placing the tray on the counter, giving him enough time to stand up and welcome her hug. The scent of almonds in her hair, and the softness of her red sweater get him dizzy, as it always has.

“It’s so good to see you, Archiekins! Look at you!”

“I was just telling Archie how I was lost in this town until you moved back, V,” Betty says, still at the table. He had forgotten she was there. “We opened the cafe together.”

“My bestie, business partner, and the best.” Veronica lets go of him to sit in the booth next to Betty, kissing her on the cheek. “So, Archiekins, did you come to check my legendary brownies?” Veronica teases him, making him chuckle.

“Oh, I remember those.” He sits down again, looking at the two girls in front of him. They’re beautiful in such different ways that it creates a distinct contrast. They seem really comfortable with each other too, and happy. Belle Vixen. B&V. It makes sense. “Smithers' favorites.”

Veronica rolls her eyes, stealing the cookie from his plate and taking a small bite. Betty giggles. After catching her butler eating the brownies she used to bake for Santa Claus, Ronnie started only making those on Valentine’s Day. She used to wrap them with a tiny bow with hearts printed on the ribbon and give them to her girlfriends. Archie got tongue-tied for days when she gave him one in freshman year, accompanied by a wink.

(He later found out she also gave one to Jughead and Reggie, too. It was slightly disappointing.)

“So, Arch, are you just visiting?” Betty pulls him from his thoughts.

“Oh. No, actually. I guess I’m here to stay,” he says, sipping from his hot chocolate. “I heard Riverdale High needed a PE teacher, so I applied and got the job,” he says. “Plus, I have a lot of things to do about…you know, my dad’s stuff. I never really dealt with any of it.”

Betty and Veronica’s faces drop with empathy. Archie was in the naval academy for about a year when he got the call—his father had a heart attack, and there was nothing the doctors could do. At the time, everything seemed unreal. Most of his friends were in some other state and couldn’t make it to the funeral. Jughead was the only one present, making sure that Archie could make it through. Both Betty and Veronica called him on the occasion, but there wasn’t a lot to say.

Avoidance had presented itself like the best alternative when he was nineteen, when it hurt too much, and being deployed had kept him distracted enough. But time was now catching up with him.

“I thought your mom sold the house…?” Betty asks, carefully.

“Yeah, she did.” Archie nods. “I rented an apartment close to here. But there’s my dad’s old warehouse that’s basically abandoned, and Andrews Construction, and well. A lot of work ahead.”

“I can definitely help with the legal aspects should they become too difficult,” Veronica offers, placing a hand on top of his on the table. It’s quick, just a comforting touch, and she soon removes her hand. "We're here for you. Right, B?” She turns towards Betty who nods and keeps a sympathetic smile on her face.

“You can count on us, Arch,” Betty says, and does the same as Veronica, placing her hand on top of his. It lingers a lot longer.

Archie smiles at them. “Thanks. I’ll remember that.”

Veronica is adding one more order to their Christmas specials and frowns—at this rate by tomorrow morning they’ll have to decline customers. It has been a great year for them, and maybe it really is time to think about hiring some more help. La Belle Vixen seemed like a nice little project at first to get Betty and herself out of their funk, but it ended up becoming a business that has brought not only happiness but loads of new responsibilities.

Like all the Christmas orders piling up and the Southside kids charitable dinner, which they have to start cooking for asap. Veronica thinks she was possibly going through a stroke when Toni asked if they wanted to take part in it and she said yes.

“Don’t you think it’s a sign?” Betty utters from behind her as she places a tray of cookies in the oven.

“Huh?” Veronica replies, distracted. “A sign?”

“Archie, of course. Coming back after all these years.” Betty leans over the counter, framed by the colorful decorating supplies.

Veronica takes off her glasses and rests them on top of the orders notebook. When she turns around, she sees her friend’s smile and rosy cheeks. “Hm.”

“You know I’ve been wanting to settle down,” Betty says, sounding nonchalant about it. Veronica narrows her eyes a little bit. “This time of the year always makes me wonder if I’m where I want to be in my life, and since my last romantic decisions haven’t been stellar—”

“So, you’re taking Archie Andrews coming back to Riverdale as a sign that you should stop spending your nights on the Mantle Dealership?”

“I’ll have you know that Reggie and I haven’t done anything since—”

“Since he convinced you to make it in the convertib—ouch!” Veronica laughs even if she just got hit in the chest with a marshmallow.

Betty laughs a little as well, her eyes rolling, and Veronica raises one knowing eyebrow. The best thing about coming back to this town a couple of years ago had been reconnecting with her best childhood girlfriend. Even though Veronica was, admittedly, a spoiled brat when she moved to Riverdale at eight, her friendship with little good girl Betty Cooper was one of those things that just clicked, despite all odds.

Veronica remembers little good boy Archie Andrews from those days, too. He was such a nice kid, bright-eyed and with a face full of freckles. Just one of those people who would light up the place without even trying. He blushed a lot, and Veronica always thought that was kinda cute. For a long time, the only thing they had in common was being friends with Betty, since the pair had been next-door neighbors since forever, but as the years went by they also found some similarities, and shared some moments of their own.

He was a Bulldog, back in highschool. As a Vixen, Veronica would often spend some time with him, pre and post football games. Those were some good memories, like when their bus broke down in Prattsville,  stuck in the middle of nowhere, but it didn’t even matter because she and Archie were sitting together, comparing Spotify playlists and snacking on gummy bears.

It was so good to see him yesterday. Maybe life made him a little bit more serious, but that bright-eyed quality was still there, and he still blushed, even now. Veronica didn’t even know that she missed him until she saw him.

“I’m serious, though,” Betty snaps her out of memory lane. “Think about it. Here I am, wanting to find the right guy so I can settle down and stop making that kind of mistake, and boom! My first love comes walking in our shop.”

“Well, I approve of your Hallmark era,” Veronica says. She used to be very supportive of Betty’s longtime crush on Archie, even encouraging her to confess her feelings for him in sophomore year (although that ended up being a terrible idea). And sure, Archie coming back could be just another inevitable chapter of their story or something, but Veronica Lodge isn’t that much of a romantic. She doesn’t believe in signs or fate—what she knows, though, is that Betty keeps sending sweet treats to Reggie’s office even if she would never admit to it, and that she giggles and blushes to her phone more than often, and that she got so annoyed the other day when Reggie canceled their plans out of nowhere that she burned an entire batch of cinnamon cookies. “But are we sure that you’re not trying to distract yourself from—”

Betty’s phone goes off before Veronica can say more. Saved by the bell, she thinks. Betty wipes her hand on a hand towel before picking it up—Veronica watches as she smiles brightly at her phone screen. “And talking about signs! Archie, hi!”

Veronica smiles a little, shaking her head in disapproval.

“You want to meet for drinks? Sure, that’s a great idea! Why, she’s right here. Yeah, she’ll go as well, of course. We’ll meet you at the Wyrm at seven-thirty. Great.” Betty hangs up. “Archie invited us for drinks at Wyrm tonight. You’re going.”

“One day, we’re gonna have to talk about it, Betty Cooper,” Veronica points a pen at her friend, turning around to go back to her order book, “but right now, we need to start preparing enough buttercream for an entire population.”

When they’re done with the orders, there’s no time for them to go home and change. Luckily, Veronica keeps a whole makeup arsenal in her bag, and they do their best to freshen up in the cafe’s tiny bathroom, laughing their asses off when they find a big piece of frosting stuck to the back of Betty’s jeans. Suggestive, Veronica says, making Betty crack up.

The day-to-night glow up is easy to achieve—a bit of concealer here and there, eyeliner (cat-eyes for Veronica, doe-eyes for Betty) and, of course, lipstick (red for her, nude for her bestie). Veronica brushes her hair until it’s slick and shiny, and Betty pulls her hair up in a messy bun instead of that sad ponytail.

The walk from their sweet retreat to the Wyrm, a pub that runs underneath Pop’s Chock’lit Shoppe, is not long. Just a couple of blocks that they walk together with their arms linked, protecting each other from the cold wind.

The pub is business as usual, even more packed with the holidays approaching. Toni, the manager, bartender, and Veronica’s ex-fling, is busy mixing drinks at the bar when they walk in. Veronica waves at her and gets a wink back. She sometimes wonders why that good thing ended, but then she’s reminded that the time Toni wanted to take things further, she ran for the hills. Again.

“Do you see Archie?” Betty asks.

Veronica turns to search for their friend. She soon spots him at one of the tables, wearing a nice blue shirt and with his hair styled a little messier than before. He looks good with his sleeves rolled up, holding a pint of beer, and laughing at—

Uh-oh. “There. ” Veronica points as discreetly as possible. “Next to Reggie.”

Betty’s pink cheeks turn white, like she’s seen a ghost. “Wh—did you invite him?”

“What? No.” Veronica makes a face. “This was probably Archie’s idea.”

And by Reggie’s look, he seems like he just left the dealership—his tie is loose around his neck and his hair is a bit messy like he ran his hands through one too many times. It makes Veronica wonder if he hurried to this get together to cause havoc or—who is she kidding? Reggie is always there for chaos.

“Okay. Okay, they haven’t seen us, so we can just—”

Before Betty can finish the sentence, Veronica sees Archie lift his face and look in their direction. His face brightens when he sees them. “Ronnie!” He calls, and Veronica can’t help the small smile that comes to her face. “Betty! Here!”

Reggie turns to look in their direction as well. Anyone aware of the situation would realize the daggers his eyes shoot towards Betty, who remains frozen by her side. She rolls her eyes and pulls Betty by the arm, waving back at Archie. “So much for signs,” she says between her teeth, pulling Betty with her towards their table.

“Hello, ladies,” Reggie greets with a sly smile. “Long time, no see.”

Veronica would laugh at that, but for Betty’s sake, she refrains from doing so. Yet, she’s impressed by Reggie’s gall and self-control. He’s never been a possessive guy, usually moving quickly from one woman to the next, so what’s the deal now? Did he really feel that his casual thing with Betty was threatened by Archie coming back?

“Great! The gang’s all here, now!” Archie exclaims. Veronica takes the seat across from him, while Betty plops down at his side.  “Should I get you girls anything to drink?”

He’s so blissfully unaware of the tension, which is such an Archie thing that it makes Veronica smile fondly.

Archie’s paying for the first round of drinks. Veronica orders a whiskey sour, which is off-menu and a bit more expensive than the beer Betty picks, but he doesn’t seem to mind. “Nice choice,” he says once she tells the waiter, and she has to narrow her eyes.

“And how is Archie Andrews a connoisseur of cocktails?”

There’s a rise of red on his face, all the way up to his ears, and it’s adorable as always. “I was the designated bartender for the academy parties,” he explains. “Wow, that sounded a lot more impressive in my head.”

Veronica cackles at that, and Betty follows, reminding her that it’s not just her and Archie at the table. Not that she had forgotten.

“So, what did I miss around here?” Archie rubs his hands. “This place is cool.”

“The Southside Serpents bought it from Pop Tate,” Reggie says. “Toni runs it. She’s Veronica’s ex-flame, the hot one over the coun—ouch.”

Veronica kicks his shins under the table. “That’s water under the bridge. Veronica Lodge runs by herself now.”

“So, none of you are seeing anyone?” Archie raises his eyebrows.

“No,” Betty answers promptly. “No, not at all. Like, not even—no.”

“You know me.” Reggie laughs as he eats a handful of peanuts. “Latest flavor is this nerd who’s surprisingly freaky—ouch.”

It’s Betty’s turn to kick him under the table. Archie laughs. He probably doesn’t think anything about it, because back in school, Reggie was already always saying some shit that got him beaten—nothing out of the ordinary. “And here I thought I’d be the only one still unmarried.”

“It’s not like there haven’t been chances for some of us,” Betty comments nonchalantly, and Veronica pauses to look at her friend—she can’t kick her under the table. But the intensity of her stare makes Betty realize she ran her mouth. “Uhm.”

“What?” Archie mumbles, finally aware something is off.

Reggie smirks. He won’t literally kick her, but his words are the closest to retaliation she can get. “Miss Lodge got here as a runaway bride, two years ago.”

Rolling her eyes, Veronica shakes her head. “I was engaged. I didn’t arrive in town literally wearing a wedding dress or anything. And even if I had, there’s nothing wrong about it. I don’t have anything to hide. Unlike some other people.” She squints her eyes and watches as Betty ducks her head.

“Is anyone hungry? We shouldn’t be drinking with an empty stomach.” Betty hurries to stand up. “I’ll get us something.”

Archie tries to get on his feet and offer help, but Reggie stops him with a gesture. “I’ll go with Coop. It’s your welcoming party after all, bro.”

Veronica thinks that giving Reggie the chance to have a moment alone with Betty seems like enough punishment for her friend. She shakes her drink and then lifts her gaze to find Archie’s curious expression.

“You were engaged?”

She grunts. “It’s not as glamorous as it sounds.” Taking a sip of her drink to forget the bitter taste of a failed past with Chad Gekko, Veronica takes a moment. “I got a ring right after closing one of the biggest deals for a newbie in Wall Street. I didn’t realize it was really meant to stop me. You’d be surprised how threatened men feel by women who are simply doing better than them.” She takes a deep breath. “I wasn’t a trophy to be paraded around.”

“Funny.” Archie grins in a way that makes her chest feel weird. “I'd give anything to be a trophy husband. I have too many hobbies to maintain.”

“Is that a goal in life?”

“Ronnie.” He snickers. “I came back to this town to be a highschool gym teacher, to clean a warehouse, and to play guitar every now and then. Let’s say I’m not exactly the most desirable bachelor of the season.”

He looks so good with that charm mixed up with modesty and some quiet confidence, something that only the years could teach him. Underneath it all, there’s still the same boy from ages ago, the one that made her feel strangely giddy whenever he smiled.

She bites her lip before she can say something she’ll end up regretting. “I’m sure someone is interested.”

“Okay, here we go,” Betty’s voice cuts through them. “Onion rings and some chicken wings—”

“And more beer for the crowd!” Reggie places some more pints on the table. Veronica points at Betty with her eyebrows, just so Archie understands what she was talking about.

Veronica thinks it’s only logical that Archie offers to walk Betty home—they are, after all, next-door neighbors—until she remembers that they’re not next-door neighbors anymore. Archie had mentioned renting a place closer to the town center, so him going out of this way just makes it clear that yes, he got what she was trying to hint at earlier.

She stands in front of Pop’s watching them walk down the snowy path.

“This feels exactly like highschool,” Reggie’s voice comes from behind her, and he wraps one arm around her shoulder. Veronica rolls her eyes. “Archie and Betty, you and me—”

“Except I am older and wiser, and there’s no you and me,” she says, annoyed, but not really.

Reggie laughs. “You were never happier.”

Veronica resists the urge to elbow him. “So, do you think these two will get it right this time?”

“Nah. Coop talks a good game, but she's crazy about me.”

“Your self-esteem is unbelievable. She was talking about how her first love coming back was a sign from fate, you know? And if you keep pretending you don’t care—”

“Is there anything more fun than changing someone’s entire fate?” Reggie asks with a lazy smile. “See you later, V. Lo.”

“I’d believe it if I saw you putting in a little effort,” Veronica says loud enough so Reggie can hear her from the few feet he has already walked.

He turns around, hands in the pockets of his coat, taking a step backwards. “Pot, kettle,” he says with a shrug, and Veronica doesn’t really like his tone, or what it could mean, so she decides to just ignore him.

Linzer cookies are heavenly this year. She perfected the recipe after some tries in her own kitchen, and the wild berry jam is just sweet and sour enough to make it a delight that goes great with a cup of coffee. Veronica is enjoying the praise she’s getting this morning for them.

When a new customer arrives, she lifts her head only to find a redhead with a pink nose.

“Hi,” Archie greets with a smile despite the cold outside.

“Well, hello, Archiekins,” she says. “You look like you could use some cocoa.”

“Mm, I’m actually in need of some caffeine, if you don’t mind.” His face tells her that maybe they had a little too much to drink yesterday. She smiles and starts preparing him a latte in their fancy Italian coffee machine, her own baby. “Yesterday was fun.”

“Why? You liked getting your ass kicked at the pool table?” She teases and laughs at his eye roll. To go with his coffee, she picks one Linzer cookie that’s shaped like a star. “There you go. On the house, but don’t get used to it.”

“Why don’t I get a heart-shaped one?” He pouts. Veronica bites her inner lip.

“Don’t make me charge you.”

She expects him to move to a table, but he picks one of the high stools at the counter. Veronica watches him blow steam off his latte and puts a hand on the back of her neck, feeling it warm. He really is looking so handsome, now that they’re older.

Veronica shakes her head, disapproving of herself. “Betty’s not here this morning,” she decides to say. Maybe he came looking for her. “We have a charity dinner coming up, and she had to buy some stuff for that.”

“Oh. Yeah, she mentioned that.” He scratches the back of his head. Veronica frowns a little, because by the look on his face, he had no idea. Nor was he thinking about it.

She bites her lip. “How was the walk home?”

“Fun until I remembered I don’t live on Elm Street anymore.” He makes a face. “I had to walk all the way back, and it was freezing.”

Veronica lifts one eyebrow. “Please. You’re not that subtle.”

“It’s true, I completely forgot!”

They laugh for a moment. As it fades, Veronica bites her lip, feeling the urge to say something. “Archie, you know that Betty’s my best friend, right? And given history, I wouldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t warn you not to be a player.”

He seems to understand what she means. “We’re not in highschool anymore, Ronnie.”

“I know. But I also have access to many sharp knives in this kitchen, so—”

Archie rolls his eyes, not taking her threats to heart, it seems. She can’t help the smile that tugs at her lips.

“Full disclosure, I actually came here to see you,” he says, cheeks turning even redder now. “I mean, you said you could help me with the legal parts concerning my dad’s stuff, and I might need it. I set up a meeting with Don right after Christmas. He’s in charge of what was once my legacy.”

“Oh, of course.” It’s her turn to feel her cheeks getting hot. “I’m happy to help. Just let me know what I can do.”

“The warehouse is full of trash,” Archie says, rubbing his forehead. “Don doesn’t want it anymore, and there’s no use for anything that’s in there. I have no idea if anyone in Riverdale would be interested in buying or renting the space, so…” he sighs. “I’m gonna get it cleaned up first and move from there, I guess. I just feel so dumb for never dealing with this before.”

“You took the time you needed to heal,” Veronica says. There are no new customers at the moment—besides Archie, there’s only two other people in the cafe, and they seem absorbed by their own matters. “Grieving works differently for each person. There’s no shame in that.”

Archie looks like he’s considering what she just said as he sips from his coffee.

“I was all ready to take over my dad’s company when he passed,” Veronica goes on. She doesn’t talk about Hiram with a lot of people. Archie seems surprised to hear his fate, by the way his eyebrows shoot towards his hairline, but he doesn’t make a big deal out of it, and she appreciates it. “Then I realized that I didn’t want to. My Abuelita, my mom, they all said I was being rebellious, and crazy. I tried my hand at Wall Street and now here I am, baking. Sometimes I wonder if I’m not honoring him because I didn’t follow his footsteps, but—”

“From where I’m standing, you’re doing great, Ronnie,” he says with a small smile. “I didn’t know about your father. I’m sorry.”

She nods, appreciative. “I keep telling Betty that she’s so lucky, you know. Not only are both her parents still alive, they’re also still together. Even if they’re a little crazy. Not everyone has this privilege.”

The bell chimes, and Veronica has to tend to the mother and baby who walk in. She wants a brownie and a large red-eye and could Veronica please heat up the milk in the baby bottle? Just thirty seconds in the microwave.

She does all that while Archie finishes his coffee and cookie. He plays a little bit with the baby, who beams toothless at him, even laughs. Of course, he’d be good with kids, that’s not a surprise. He’s probably going to be the best father, one day.

“Hey, do you wanna help with the charity dinner on the 23rd?” she decides to ask. “It’s for the Southside kids. You don’t need to cook anything,” she quickly adds.

“Yeah, of course. And I can cook if I have to.”

“I thought you had experience as a bartender,” Veronica pokes.

“I told you yesterday, I have many hobbies.” There’s a tinge of playfulness in his tone that, if it were any other time or person, she’d think he’s flirting with her.

She smiles, shaking her head. “Don’t worry, I don’t mean to put your culinary skills to the test. I would appreciate some muscle, though. And I think you’re used to taking orders.”

Archie chuckles. “Well, that I am, ma’am.”

Wrinkling her nose, Veronica shows her disgust. “Don’t ever call me that again. That’s an order.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Veronica throws a pack of sugar at him, which he playfully bats it away. “And then you wonder why you don’t get a heart-shaped cookie.”

Cleaning the warehouse lasts the whole day and is exhausting. Archie doesn’t mind the heavy work, but the memories are what really get to him. He used to run around that place as a little kid, playing hide and seek with Jughead and sometimes Betty while his dad worked. They’d order Pop’s sometimes and eat burgers and sundaes with the crew, while sitting on top of cement bags.

It’s sad that the glory days are over. Without all the trash, the space is so good; so much could be done with it. He wonders what ideas the next owner will have, if he ever finds someone to buy it. If he were to keep it, maybe he’d turn it into a gym, or something like that.

He goes back to his place when the sun has already fallen. The furniture situation isn’t completely solved yet, but he does have a bed now and a new duvet that he’s dying to slip under. His plan is to shower and immediately crash, but once he’s out of the hot water, he feels more energetic than he thought he’d be.

Archie grabs his phone to maybe order some food or check what’s on Netflix, but a new text from Betty Cooper catches his eye. It was fun to walk her home yesterday, even if he genuinely forgot they weren’t neighbors anymore—it wasn’t a move, or anything. Of course, Veronica had thought so. Reggie too, probably.

heard you stopped by the cafe this morning! It’s what the text reads. Archie replies with a simple yeah, but then decides to try just a little bit harder. ronnie arranged for me to work for y’all at the charity dinner lol.

It doesn’t take long for Betty to reply. she told me you’re our new jack of all trades lol

He smiles—it does sound like something Veronica would say—but then doesn’t really know what to reply anymore. Scratching his head, he thinks about some clever answer, but luckily, Betty beats him to the punch. the wyrm was fun last night but the real question is, have you been to pops already?

Archie chuckles. He remembers his and Betty’s tradition of having one Pop’s meal right before the holidays, and another right before the school year began. Those meetings stopped in sophomore year, when she confessed her feelings. After that, it was never just the two of them again—Jug, Veronica and Reggie would always join. Well, maybe it’s not too late to keep tradition alive.

how do you feel about grabbing a burger tomorrow?

He watches the three little dots that indicate Betty typing appear and disappear. After a couple of minutes, she replies sure! 6pm? it’s a date!

Archie doesn’t know what to say to that—should he ask if she means a date-date, or just ‘it’s a date!’ in a friendly way, or what—and any honest mistake could lead them to a very awkward place, so he sends a smiling emoji instead. And then a thumbs up one.

Betty replies with a kissy face, the one blowing a heart.

Oh. Hum. Well. It is a date, then.

When Archie arrives at Pop’s the next day, at 5:50pm because he’d better be safe than sorry, he’s admittedly a little nervous. It’s only when he sees Pop Tate—who’s still running the diner, God bless him—and is granted with a big hug and a welcome back, son that he feels more at ease. It’s just Pop’s, and it’s just Betty. Like old times.

Pop takes him to his old favorite booth, says he’ll bring Archie’s usual choice of strawberry milkshake asap, and he sits facing the door, like always. Outside, it’s starting to snow. Someone has chosen a Christmas carol in the jukebox. It’s cozy.

“Hello,” a voice catches his attention. Archie looks up to see Betty—she looks good with her longer hair tucked behind her ears and a lilac sweater, a little bit better than the crazy ones she used to wear back in the day. “Is this seat taken?”

She’s already sliding on the opposite side of the booth, and before Archie can even greet her, Pop Tate gets there with his milkshake. He smiles when he sees Betty has joined him. “Hi, honey! An old fashioned vanilla for you?”

“You know it, Pop.”

“Nice to see you kids here together.” He taps at Betty’s shoulder with his pen, and goes back to behind the counter.

Archie chuckles. “It is nice to see someone calling us kids when we’re about to be in our thirties.”

“You know how this town is.” Betty rests her chin on her hand. “Stuck on a time loop. We’ll always be their kids.”

Archie sips on his milkshake. The flavor brings back so many memories, he ends up closing his eyes and humming around the straw. “Oh, I missed this. No place like Pop’s.”

“This is why we don’t sell milkshakes at La Belle Vixen.” Betty points out. “But I dare say our coffee is superior.”

“Oh, I had a latte yesterday. It kept me going for hours.” He bites the inside of his lip as he remembers the star-shaped cookie Veronica gave him. “Does Jughead even know you own a coffeeshop now?”

Betty’s face lights up when he brings up their old friend. “Oh, my God, he does! We opened it right before he went out on his search for the best burger in New York City that turned into the best karaage in Tokyo, but he promised that La Belle Vixen is on his list.”

“Honestly, I never thought about it, but when I saw him as a food critic, it’s like everything clicked. He was always like that. Remember how he’d rank the best food in the cafeteria?”

She nods. “The latkes were number one.”

“God, the latkes. With hot sauce, don’t forget.”

“The hot sauce turns a very average pancake into a great delicacy, Betts,” she makes her voice more solemn to mimic Jughead’s. It makes Archie miss him a great deal—he decides he'll text him once he’s back home. “I miss his broody ass. I can’t wait for him to come back. He’ll be so thrilled that you’re here.”

“Yeah, he might even smile and pat my back.”

Betty’s milkshake arrives. They order their usual—two hamburgers, fries for her, onion rings for him, and once the waiter is gone, she raises her tall glass to toast with him. “To your return, prodigal son.”

Archie smiles, but feels a little awkward clinking their milkshake glasses and ends up avoiding her eyes when they toast.

“So,” Betty starts after a moment of silence. Archie scratches the back of his head. “The Coopers are hosting dinner on the 24th, so if you’d like to come… I invited V too, of course.”

“It’s nice that you two got even closer,” he comments. Betty and Veronica were tied at the hip back in highschool, but they seem to be so in sync now. Archie feels like he missed out on so many of his friends throughout the years.

“Her coming back to Riverdale was a gift from Heaven. I think that I was just trying to be someone I didn’t want to be. And honestly, she felt the same, with Chad and everything.”

Archie probably can’t hide his disgust. “Her fiancé's name was Chad?”

“And he was a Chad too, trust me. He came after her at first, and it was a nightmare.” Betty fiddles with her milkshake straw. “She deserves the most wonderful person in the world, you know? Someone who would fight for her and stand by her. A romance novel kind of thing.”

“Yeah.” Archie’s mind drifts again to visiting the cafe yesterday, how crazy beautiful Veronica looked in a white sweater that was probably so expensive and soft, a red apron on top of it, her hair half-up and the pearls on her ears. Betty is right—she deserves nothing but a stellar romance. Not this Chad guy who thought he was better than her. “She does.”

Dinner goes down smoothly. It’s easy to talk to Betty, even though most of the time when their conversation dies, they end up bringing up Jughead or Veronica and even Reggie and the truck he’s trying to sell Archie, at some point—a subject that Betty is quick to change. She tells him about her parents, how she thinks she should’ve moved out at this point but wants to enjoy them as long as it lasts, even though they drive her nuts. Archie understands—if his dad were alive, he’d probably be back on Elm Street too.

They share the bill once it comes. Since it’s still snowing, and he hasn’t bought the truck from Mantle Dealership yet, Betty offers to drive him home. She makes a joke once they park in front of the deli shop, so here’s where the magic happens. And maybe she was flirting with him, but Archie only realizes that much later, when he's back in the apartment brushing his teeth.

Maybe he should’ve invited her up? Maybe he should’ve tried to kiss her goodnight? The thought didn’t really cross his mind. Their date didn’t really feel like a date, at all, like there was some spark missing.

It was probably his fault, though. All those years with random hookups who didn’t mean anything have taken the toll—he doesn’t know how to behave on a date anymore. Betty was perfectly pretty, and they always had a good time together. Perhaps he just needs more practice.

Feeling defeated but also strangely relieved for not ruining it again, at least, he grabs his phone to text her that he did have a nice time. It’s the right thing to do. Hopefully.

The years in the navy have ingrained a flight or fight response in Archie that he’s not quite sure he’ll ever lose. So, when the phone wakes him up on the 23rd of December, he immediately sits up at the name he reads on the screen.

“Ronnie?”

“Archie. Thank God you picked up. Everyone else appears to be asleep, can you believe it?" Veronica sounds like she's been up and running for a while.  He worries about why she would be calling at—he looks at his watch on the night table—five in the morning. It must be an emergency.

“Uhm, no, not really. What’s going on?” He asks, already fully awake. "Is everything okay?"

"No. Toni called me, and apparently we can't host the charity dinner at Southside High anymore because the snow damaged the school." He can hear her controlled voice on the brink of breaking. "I tried Riverdale High but the parent board doesn't want them to share the school property with, and I quote, a bunch of delinquents."

"What?" Archie asks in disbelief. "Do they realize they're talking about kids?!"

"I was about to offer them some good money just so the children wouldn't be let down, but I ended up telling the woman to suck my nonexistent dick."

Archie lets his mouth hang open. "You—" he ends up laughing.

"Yeah, funny, but now we don't have a spot for the dinner that can fit more than sixty kids that I promised to feed. I have I don't know how many pounds of mashed potatoes in my fridge, and the gifts I bought—"

Her voice falters. Archie feels his throat constrict when he hears what sounds like a small sob. "Hey. Hey, Ronnie, where are you?"

"At the cafe." She sniffs, as if she's already pulling herself together. He smiles a little. He always admired her for it.

"Okay, I'm getting up now, and I'll come over, alright?" Archie gets out of bed, pacing around the room to find his clothes. "We'll think about something together."

"Okay. Thank you, Archiekins."

"No probl—" when he picks up his pants from the day before, keys fall from the pocket and he stares at the old Andrews Construction keychain. What if…? "I might have an idea."

There aren’t many options after all, so the warehouse becomes the place to host the dinner party. A lot of people show up to help, which is a nice way to remember how Riverdale always unites in times of crisis. Everyone is always ready to lend a hand when friends are in need—it’s always been the town’s best quality. Except for the parent board in Riverdale High, but he'll think about that when school comes back.

Veronica was incredibly stressed earlier, but now that the rest of the trash has been taken out of the warehouse and the power is back on, she seems to have had her hope reinstated. She arrives with boxes full of festive decorations and also Smithers, following her closely behind with even more boxes and a Santa suit on top of it all.

Archie chuckles when the old man who used to welcome him into The Pembrooke back in the day smiles, shrugging a shoulder at him. He knows it’s hard to say no to Veronica Lodge and apparently that’s a lifelong truth.

“I thought you hired me to be the muscle,” Archie jokes, taking the boxes from her hands.

“I did hire you for that. I didn’t know you’d also be the brain saving Christmas.”

She smiles at him, and that dumb blush is back to his cheeks. He wants to say something clever, something that will get her laughing after the tense morning she had, but when she looks at him over her shoulder and winks, he finds out that he’s too tongue tied for that. How can she be so pretty?

Little by little, as the day turns into afternoon, people start to leave with promises of coming back. Betty recruits Toni to drive back to La Belle Vixen, so they can load up the food. Reggie announces he managed to call a few favors and rent some heaters for the evening—their main worry was that the children would freeze. Smithers is sent off by Veronica to buy blankets for everyone in case the heaters are not enough. When Archie realizes, it’s only him left, watching Ronnie step perilously on her tiptoes on the last step of the ladder while hanging garlands.

“Do you need help with those?” He grabs the ladder to hold it in place and looks up at her in her burgundy coat. Her cheeks are a little pink, and it might be because the place really isn’t all that welcoming under this weather—but they’re getting there.

“I might,” she replies haughtily.

Of course, she wouldn’t admit to needing help straight away. It almost makes him laugh. “Alright, Ronnie. You tell me where you want them, and I’ll make it happen.”

Archie extends a hand to help her come down the ladder. “What if I want them on the roof?”

“Then you’ll have them on the roof, ma’am.” Archie grins brightly at her. She makes a face, narrowed eyes and a curly smile, that he remembers from those times in highschool when they traveled together for the away-games, and he’d give her his jacket for the cold or eat the green gummy bears because she hated them.

“Okay.” Veronica takes her phone and presses play. Archie is surprised when Last Christmas starts coming from the speakers. “To get us in the mood,” she says, and when Archie inevitably frowns, she adds, “for decorating!”

He laughs. That song is his Christmas favorite, anyway.

They start with the garlands and lights and then they move on to set the tables. He’s not exactly great with details so he keeps looking back at Veronica to follow her example. Red table cloths, a small centerpiece of holly, pines, and candles, and golden napkins folded in a sort of triangle—he’s sweating thinking he might get scolded any second, but she always nods approvingly of his work.

“So…” Veronica starts while she runs her hand through some pine needles on a centerpiece. “How’s being back in your hometown been?”

The music on her phone changes—Archie smiles at the shift from Christmas pop tunes to the start of a familiar guitar tune, soft and haunting. You leapt from crumbling bridges, watching cityscapes turn to dust…

“No way you still listen to Cigarettes After Sex,” Archie says, biting his lower lip. He remembers being stranded on the team bus in Prattsville, sharing headphones while comparing Spotify playlists and finding out that they liked many bands in common. He never took her for a girl who would listen to alternative and classic rock, just like she never imagined he knew his way around Taylor Swift’s discography.

She gapes her mouth in faux-offense. “Well, if you don’t listen to them anymore, I’m not sure we can keep this conversation.”

“No, I do! I just feel like they got a little repetitive after the third EP.”

“There’s no reason to change a winning formula,” she says. “You know, this is that same playlist we put together back in senior year.” Veronica looks sheepish as she admits. Archie, who was folding another napkin, stops halfway just to glance up at her. Really? “Your Wallows song should come up soon.”

“We’re just missing the gummy bears, then.” He bites the inside of his cheek to suppress a bigger smile.

“You know, I never found a package with no green ones again.” She taps her chin with a candy cane.

He tilts his head to the side. “C’mon, Ronnie. That’s because I ate all the green ones before.”

“What? You couldn’t—” She widens her eyes. “Oh, my God, you did?”

“Of course I did. You never liked them. What was I supposed to do?”

“Well, they are disgusting,” she says, her nose a little bit higher in the air.

Archie guffaws. Not many understood this side of her—her quirks and a sense of humor. She was born with a silver spoon in her mouth, but Archie felt like he knew better. Not that she wasn’t a little spoiled—at least when they were younger—but she also had one of the biggest hearts he’s ever seen.

“I can’t say I liked them much either,” he adds, “but it was better than to see you wrinkling your nose at them.”

“This is the strangest form of chivalry I’ve heard of.”

Veronica walks around the table to stand next to him, fixing the napkin he ended up folding the wrong way. He looks at her side profile, the way she handles the golden paper, and doesn’t really know what to say. There’s something coiling in his stomach, a weird sensation that he could never get used to ever since he met her, still a child.

“You’ve always been kind,” she goes on. “It shouldn’t come as a surprise, I guess.”

Archie swallows whatever’s forming in his throat. “It was the least I could do. After all, you always got me Snickers bars when I was starving after a game.”

Veronica chuckles, looking at him. The song keeps coming from her phone, on the bridge now, Come out and haunt me, I know you want me. “You have the sweetest tooth, Archie Andrews.”

Have her lashes always been that long? Yes. He definitely remembers, her dark eyes looking up at him and her dark lips whenever she tutored him in French. He always had some mixed feelings because she was so nice to him, yet she always kept herself away. Always so out of his league he didn’t even dare.

Got the music in you, baby, tell me why. Got the music in you, baby, tell me why.

“I’m sorry I didn’t keep in touch, Ronnie,” he mutters, leaning a bit closer to her.

“It goes both ways.”

Archie reaches for her hand, but it barely brushes it when she takes a step back, placing it behind her neck.

“So, how was your date with B? She hasn’t given me all the details.”

Her voice comes out different, chirpy. Archie clears his throat. It takes him almost half a minute to even process what she’s talking about. “Uhm. Well, it was—” Veronica changes the song before it reaches the end. It’s back to Christmas tunes, the kind that were playing at Pop’s the other night. He heaves out a breath, opting for honesty. “Frankly, I don’t know. I thought it’d be different.”

“Well, you’re surely not giving up, right? As we patissières like to say, sometimes you gotta throw away the first pancake.”

Archie scratches the back of his head. “Yeah, maybe,” he says. Veronica doesn’t really look at him again, and starts talking about wrapping tinsels around the columns.

The dinner is a success. The kids are happy, bright, warm—at the end of it, Archie feels the same, all over his body. It’s really nice to give them a place to celebrate Christmas and have hope sparkling in their eyes.

Everyone stays behind to clean up the warehouse after the kids go home. It’s a different affair than putting up the decorations—he wonders if Veronica is avoiding him, considering she’s bossing Reggie around this time to help her out with the heavy load, even if he keeps complaining.

Archie ends up assigned to assist Toni with the dirty dishes. Toni fills him in on her social work in Riverdale, how she reinvented the Southside Serpents, and he distracts himself from possible mishaps.

It’s past midnight when they’re done. Betty bids him goodnight and reminds him not to miss Christmas Eve at the Coopers. Archie wonders if it’s a good idea—after all, Alice Cooper was never really fond of him or Jughead or anyone else, but when Veronica finally looks at him and says, “Thank you for everything. See you at Betty’s tomorrow,” he knows he is going to be there.

And there he is the next day, at the house he grew up across from, with a small present for the hostess, feeling slightly weird. He wonders if he came for the right reasons. Hell, he doesn’t even know what the right reasons are.

There’s a red sports car in the driveway which is a sign that Reggie is already there. Archie didn’t know he’d come, and feels strangely relieved—at least it won’t be just him, Betty, Veronica, and Betty’s family. Now, he has someone to sit with in case he needs to avoid any awkwardness.

“Arch! Come on in!” Betty greets him when he rings the doorbell. She’s wearing an apron with reindeers, and her hair is slicked back in some intricate ponytail. “I’m glad you made it.”

“Uhm, this is for you.” He hands her a chocolate box that’s shaped like a Christmas tree, because his uncreative self had no idea what to get for her.

Betty smiles. “You didn’t have to bring anything! Thanks, you know I love chocolate,” she says, leading him into the living room. She’s barely closed the door when her mother’s voice comes from the kitchen, Elizabeth!, and she makes an apologetic face. “Sorry, I’m helping my mom with the turkey, but I’ll be right back. Make yourself at home!”

Archie looks around. Reggie is talking to Betty’s father, of all people—he’s a bit loud, saying something about a Maserati, and Hal seems to be genuinely entertained by it. He decides to say hello later, not to interrupt their conversation.

Archie looks around, but Polly (who Betty told him, the other day, is now married with two kids) doesn’t seem to be at the party. He wonders if that’s why Alice Cooper agreed to invite so many of Betty’s friends—other than Reggie and himself, he also spots Kevin Keller, his father, and obviously, Veronica, caught up in conversation with them.

She’s wearing a dark green dress of what looks like velvet and that’s hugging all the right places, her sleek raven hair down. Over Kevin’s shoulder, her eyes meet his for a moment. It ends up catching Kevin’s attention. “Would you look at that! Archie!” he basically yells.

The focus shifts to him, somehow—Kevin hugs him, Hal comes to greet him, Reggie offers him whiskey, Tom Keller has so many questions about the navy. Veronica slides away from them in her highest heels, muttering something about wine. She touches his arm when she walks past him, just right above his elbow. Archie thinks his breath might’ve hitched a little, but no one seems to notice.

The party isn’t bad. Sure, even if hearing Hal and Reggie discuss car engines gets tiring at some point, same about Kevin’s hectic life in New York City, Archie is glad to catch up and entertain. Veronica barely said hi to him and Betty’s mom keeps her busy all the time, but Archie decides it might be a good thing that they’re not giving him attention.

Who also isn’t giving him a lot of attention is Alice Cooper. He’s glad for that as well.

But then at some point—of course, obviously—Reggie asks him to get more peanuts in the kitchen, right when Betty’s leaving it, and they almost bump into each other under the arched doorway. There are some oohs coming from the living room. Someone wolf-whistles. Betty looks confused until she looks up, forcing him to do the same.

There’s mistletoe hanging above them. Archie’s gaze travels back to her face. Her cheeks turn violently pink and he’s paralyzed. “Come on, it’s tradition!” Reggie cheers. Archie feels his mouth hang open—he knows what tradition says, he’s watched his parents do it every year before the divorce—but he can’t really do this, right? He can’t kiss Betty in the middle of her family’s Christmas Eve party, with everyone watching, and even if he tried, it wouldn’t be—

He doesn’t know how long he stares at her face, but probably not much. She shakes her head angrily, looks over her shoulder and sneers, “You’re fucking ridiculous,” to Reggie.

“Elizabeth!” Archie hears Alice’s voice. “Language.”

“Sorry, Arch,” Betty tells him in a gentler tone, even though she still looks pissed at Reggie. Archie knits his eyebrows together, feeling like there’s a punchline that he’s missing. From the corner of his eye, he sees Veronica downing a glass of wine.

When they sit down to eat, Archie focuses on the food, which is delicious. Alice had always been a good cook—Betty got being a good baker from her mom. When they toast, Hal makes a heartfelt speech, thanking Betty’s friends for not leaving the house empty, since Polly couldn’t make it, and apparently, Reggie’s little prank wasn’t enough to kill the Christmas Eve spirit.

Kind of. In all honesty, Archie can’t really look at Betty even if he has a designated seat beside her—he keeps thinking if he should’ve acted differently, but she didn’t seem so keen to kiss him either. Perhaps they should talk about it afterwards. What were they even doing, anyway? When he came back to Riverdale and found her in the coffeeshop, he did wonder if maybe it was a sign or something, but that idea passed him by so quickly. Now, he’s wondering if he’s forced himself into thinking that.

Everyone seems pretty occupied post-dinner—Hal and Tom start playing chess in the living room; Alice is already in the kitchen organizing dishes with Kevin’s help; Reggie and Betty are nowhere to be found. Archie takes the opportunity to step outside and have some fresh—even if freezing—air.

He’s surprised to find Veronica doing just the same.

“Hey,” he says, careful not to startle her. She smiles softly when she looks at him—he smiles too, relieved for not being ignored, but he doesn’t know what to say. “Great party, uh.”

Veronica chuckles, holding her long coat closer to her body. “It’s always eventful at the Coopers.”

He presses his lips together, wishing he had drunk a little bit more. He wants to talk to her about the charity dinner, yesterday, and how it made him feel. He wants to talk to her about that dumb mistletoe moment. He wants to tell her that he wasn’t going to kiss Betty, because—

“I’m about to go, though,” she tells him. “The cafe has a bunch of orders to deliver tomorrow morning, and Betty has done enough.”

“Oh. Do you need a ride or something?” He asks, like an idiot, because not only has he been drinking, he also doesn’t have a car. “I mean,” he shakes his head slightly when he remembers the fact.

Veronica giggles. “No, Smithers is already arriving with the car. But that reminds me,” she looks for something inside her purse. Archie frowns when she hands him a small package wrapped in red paper. “In case I don’t see you tomorrow, Merry Christmas.”

“Ronnie, I didn’t—”

She stops him with a lift of her finger. “You already did. You saved our charity dinner yesterday. That was a pretty great Christmas gift.” She looks up at him with her big brown eyes, just as a car pulls over in front of the house. “Goodnight, Archiekins.”

She climbs down Betty’s front porch steps and steps into her carriage, just like Cinderella or whatever, leaving behind not a crystal slipper but something that makes him keep thinking about her. And how he feels is stupid, ridiculous even, but it’s also a landslide that he’s been holding in since she first called him that nickname and made his organs turn around inside his body.

Not much later, Archie walks home, hoping the cold will ease his thoughts but they don’t. He’s so confused right up until the moment he’s in his flat and decides to open Veronica’s gift.

It’s a pack of gummy bears. Not a green one in sight.

Archie tosses and turns all night, his feelings all over the place. He keeps thinking about how hurt Betty was all those years ago when he first rejected her. How Veronica never gave him the time of the day, romantically speaking, even if he often wondered if there could be something there. How Betty was probably everything he should want, but Veronica was everything he shouldn’t want, and still.

He gives up sleeping at six-thirty, taking his phone. He means to text Betty, so they can talk about what they were supposedly doing, because he can’t string her along even if he’s risking their friendship again, but he ends up tossing the blankets aside and getting dressed. He’d rather do this in person.

Archie isn’t worried about Betty not being awake, when he walks back to Elm Street. She’s always been a morning person, and now she’s also the owner of a coffee shop, a place that’s definitely meant for early birds. Sure, maybe her parents wouldn’t appreciate a visitor at this time, but he can call her once he’s there instead of ringing the doorbell.

It’s what he does.

“Archie?” She picks up after a couple of tunes. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. I know it’s early, but—I’m outside. I need to talk to you, if you’re already up.”

“Outside?! Okay, hum, sure. I’ll be right there.”

Archie waits a few minutes with his hands shoved inside his pockets, protecting them from the cold. He’s repassing the speech he made on the way here—something about their friendship being so important to him, etc—when she opens the door, eyebrows knitted together, looking slightly panicky. She’s holding her robe tightly against her body.

“Hey. I’m sorry if I woke you up, I just think we should—”

He listens to a beep and a car unlocking. When he looks behind him, there’s a red sports car with a thin layer of snow over it, the lights turning up.

“Isn’t that Reggie’s car?” Archie frowns. There’s an immediate answer to his question when his black-haired friend pops out from behind a bush, all disheveled, holding half his clothes in one hand. What the hell?

He looks from Reggie to Betty’s shocked and red face, and almost bursts into laughter.

“I’m sorry, Coop,” Reggie points at her. “I love you, but I won’t freeze my balls out here just so you won’t hurt Andrews’ feelings.” He dashes to his car, opens the door and shouts, “Merry Christmas, kiddos.”

“This isn’t what it looks lik—” Betty starts to justify, but stops when Archie looks at her with his eyebrows shot towards his hairline. “Lord, someone kill me.” She hides her face in her hands.

“You’re the surprisingly freaky nerd?” Archie asks, laughing. He notices Betty’s shoulders shaking as she laughs too, even behind her hands.

“Shut up,” she says, finally uncovering her red face, the embarrassed smile still on the corner of her lips. “Look, Arch, the truth is—”

“Betty, c’mon. You’re my best friend.” He reaches out to touch her shoulder, a tender grin on his face. “This just made what I thought would be a very hard conversation a whole lot easier.”

“Ugh, I’m so glad you weren’t feeling it too,” she confesses. “Do you wanna have breakfast?”

Veronica carefully wraps every cookie, cake, and pastry to be delivered with red little bows. She writes a small note on each one of them in neat handwriting, wishing Merry Christmas. Outside, the snow has created a white blanket over the streets, and the delivery boy has to go through some trials to get there. Veronica gives him a large cup of coffee and some muffins as a way to thank him for the work.

Not five minutes after he leaves, Betty arrives, making the bell chime. She’s a little flushed from the cold outside and looks disappointed when she sees that all the orders have been sent off. “Oh, no, I’m late.”

Veronica laughs a little. “It’s okay. I came in extra early cause I knew you’d be caught up.” She hands Betty something she was prepping for herself—a mug of hot chocolate with candy cane frosting. The cafe is closed for the public today, and it’s a nice change from the usual busy mornings.

“And caught up I was,” Betty says, sipping from her mug as Veronica proceeds to make another one. “I was having breakfast with Archie, and—”

Bang. Veronica accidentally knocks down the cocoa powder can. Thankfully, the lid was still on. “Breakfast?” she asks, running after the can that’s rolled away, her voice coming out wrong. She clears her throat. “Wow. That escalated quickly.”

When she glances at Betty, her best friend has her eyes narrowed in doubt. “Are you jealous?”

Veronica’s mouth gapes open. “Wh—of you and Archie? Please.” She scoffs, turning her attention back to the cocoa powder can. It’s smashed on one side, where it fell on the floor, and Veronica can’t open it for some reason. Of course, she had to give Betty her cocoa mug and now she can’t even make one for herself. “I’m not jealous. I just don’t know if I like that you’re still sneaking around with Reggie and playing with Archie’s feelings at the same time, because Archie is actually a good person, and he doesn’t deserve to—”

“Ooookay, let’s calm down,” Betty says, sounding amused. Veronica looks at her and feels her cheeks burning at the face of her smile. “I’ll have you know that Archie and I did have breakfast together, but as friends. He showed up this morning to talk about our expectations and he…kind of caught me with Reggie. Let’s just say it was not my best moment.”

“Oh.” Veronica holds her breath. Normally, she’d be teasing Betty about this situation, but there’s a slaught of information to process. So, it was over between them? The other day Archie said that the date wasn’t what he expected, and Veronica wondered if that was on him or on Betty, but she hated how it made her feel—strangely hopeful. She shouldn’t have felt like that. And yesterday, when everything conspired in their favor but he didn’t kiss Betty under the mistletoe, the relief she felt was so crazy. “Oh, so, you two—”

Betty shakes her head. “I have to admit that I like Mantle a lot more than I should and that my feelings for Archie have stayed in the past.”

“Oh,” she says again. It’s a lot of changes in less than twenty-four hours. Of course, Veronica knew that Betty and Reggie were way more involved than they thought they were, but Betty’s change of heart regarding Archie is surprising, to say the least. “What about his feelings? I mean.”

“C’mon, V. What feelings?” Betty laughs a little. “Arch is a good person, like you said, but we both know that he’s never had these kinds of feelings for me. I guess he was just seeing where it’d lead him. I don’t blame him—it sounded perfect on paper.”

Veronica bites her lower lip. She finally manages to get the lid open as she searches for something to say, but Betty is faster.

“What about you?”

“What about me?” Veronica knits her eyebrows together, confused. “What do you mean, what about me?”

“Would you give him a chance?” Betty asks, looking at her over the mug. Veronica’s eyes widen, and Betty rolls hers. “C’mon, V. You know what I’m talking about.”

“No, I don’t.” Veronica feels some sort of panic rising in her. She wasn’t flirting with Archie in front of Betty. She wasn’t flirting with Archie, period, and if she felt a certain way towards him—his face, his goodness, his biceps, his smile, his messy red hair, his gentle way, his chivalry—she certainly managed to hide it, right? “B, until five minutes ago I thought he was off limits, and I would never—”

“Hey.” Betty places a hand on top of hers. “I know you wouldn’t do anything to hurt me. And you haven’t. But I have noticed the way he kept looking at you during the charity dinner, and yesterday’s party, and—frankly, the fact that it didn’t bother me like it did back then was one of the things that made me realize I’m over it.”

“Like it did back then? Do you mean—”

“High school? Hell, middle school, even. V. Everyone with a pulse knew that Archie was head over heels for you.”

“That’s not true.” Veronica feels her face even warmer. Her memory is flooded with images from their younger years—feeling crushed by his sadness when she had to tell him that Santa Claus didn’t exist. The way he was extra careful when undoing the bow around the brownie she gave him for Valentine’s Day once. How he waited for her after practice and offered to walk her home every time, even if it was out of his way. The time they slow-danced at junior prom, even if they had other people as their dates. Sharing music stranded in Prattsville. Giving each other a long, lasting hug at graduation. The way his eyes always seemed to soften when he was around her. The way he blushed when she called him Archiekins. The way he’d say Ronnie. “Archie and I have never—”

“I know.” Betty pats the hand she’d been holding. “But maybe it was a sign that he came back. Just not for me.”

Betty and Veronica lock up the coffee shop around five. While Betty goes back to Elm Street to have dinner with her parents, Veronica decides to stop by the deli shop on 3rd—the only place in Riverdale, besides Pop’s, that’s open on Christmas Day—to buy some popcorn for her own little tradition for the last couple of years, a Christmas movie marathon by herself. She wouldn’t confess it in a thousand years but she feels compelled to watch those spoiled city girls from Hallmark movies falling for small town men with hearts of gold.

She’s choosing between butter or parmesan when the doorbell announces a new customer. Maybe because she’s used to doing that in La Belle Vixen, she looks up to see who walked in.

Her heart skips a beat, and Betty’s words about signs start replaying in her mind.

“Ronnie?”

Veronica feels her neck warm up under the fluffy scarf wrapped around it—he has his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans, cheeks red from the wind outside as he’s not wearing proper winter gear, and looks as surprised at this chance meeting as she is.

“Hi.” She tries to smile.

“Hi.” He does smile, despite his clear astonishment. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” she replies, clutching at the popcorn bags as if they could help her understand the sudden mess inside her, right on top of her stomach, between her lungs. “What brings you to Goodie’s?”

“Uh, I live upstairs,” he says, a little bashful, which just makes him even more handsome. She raises her eyebrows. “I came for popcorn,” he nudges in her direction. “To watch Die Hard.”

He laughs a bit. She knows it was a thing between him and Fred after it was just the two of them. “I see we’re keeping Christmas traditions alive.”

“Oh, for sure. I even decorated,” he says in a playful tone. She isn’t sure if it was the talk she had with Betty this morning, and the things her best friend said, but Archie looks different, more at ease. Is it because he feels relieved that his thing with Betty didn’t go any further, or does Veronica want it to be that?

She decides to go along with it, letting her mouth hang open. “You did not.”

“I did. And I did a good job too. Do you wanna check it out?”

Veronica bites her lower lip. He’s her friend, so it’s perfectly normal for him to invite her up to his apartment—she doesn’t know why it feels like someone let loose a hundred butterflies inside her. “I guess I have to. I was practically your mentor.”

The flush on his face raises up to his ears. “Okay.” Veronica freezes when he takes a step closer to her. He reaches out to get the popcorn bags from her hands. “I’ll pay for these, since I haven’t gotten you a proper Christmas gift yet.”

Veronica’s mind tricks her into thinking he emphasized the yet, and the butterflies go wild. Damn you, Betty Cooper, she thinks, biting the corner of her lip. She wouldn’t be feeling like this if Betty hadn’t hinted at what she did before.

Right?

Archie takes her outside. Right beside Goodie’s entrance, there’s another door, which leads to a set of stairs. There are four apartments up there. Only one of the red doors has a garland hanging on it. Archie lifts his eyebrows at it, something like told you, and Veronica purses her lips.

“If you call one garland decorating—”

He chuckles. “Have a little faith, Ronnie,” he says, unlocking his door and signaling for her to walk in.

The apartment isn’t big, but the glass windows are huge. It’s already dark outside, but Veronica imagines it gets a lot of natural sunlight. Archie doesn’t have a lot of furniture yet but he was telling the truth when he said he did a good job. There’s a Christmas tree in the corner of the living room, not too big but lovingly decorated with colorful fairy lights and ornaments that don’t match, that take her back to when Fred was alive and she would more than often stop by to drop gifts for the Andrews’ men.

On the counter that divides the kitchen and the living room, she can see a familiar centerpiece. “Copycat,” she tells him, but she hopes that her eyes also say that she’s proud of his skills.

“It’s actually an original.” Archie pats the pines on the centerpiece, looking at her. “It was forgotten at the warehouse, so I figured I’d give it a home.”

Veronica laughs. It’s warm inside, so she takes off her scarf and jacket, placing them on the couch as she starts to look around.

“Do you, uhm, do you wanna drink anything?” he asks. Veronica looks over her shoulder and finds him behind the kitchen counter, opening cabinets. “I have…Water,” he chuckles. “And wine, I guess.”

“Well, ain’t that an easy choice.”

“My mom sent it to me as a housewarming gift, so it’s probably good stuff,” he says. There’s a hint of sad tenderness in his voice, typical whenever he talked about his mother.

“Where is Mary these days?” Veronica asks, pacing slowly around the living room and taking in the details. They do surprise her, like the small set of cedar-scented candles on the coffee table, and the string of fairy lights hanging around the window frame.

“Oh, she’s in the Bahamas with her girlfriend for the holidays.” The cork makes a pop sound when Archie removes it from the bottle. Veronica watches him pour wine into two mugs, a white and blue Andrews Construction one, and a blue and gold one from the Riverdale Bulldogs. She arches an eyebrow when he hands her the latter. “I don’t have wine glasses yet, sorry.”

The two pink spots on top of his cheekbones are adorable. “To our mothers enjoying the Caribbean with her lovers.” Veronica raises her mug, toasting. “Mine is in Caicos with her boyfriend. He’s like, three years older than us.” Veronica laughs at Archie’s widened eyes. “Good for her, I guess.”

They clink their mugs together. Veronica looks at him over the rim as she takes the first sip, and their eyes meet as he does the same. The wine is good, as he mentioned it would be, and she feels it settle nicely in her stomach, giving the butterflies something to hold on to.

“How long has it been since…you know,” Archie asks. Veronica frowns, because she doesn’t know, and her confusion probably prompts him to go on. “Since your dad passed. I’m sorry to ask, if you don’t wanna talk about it—”

She shakes her head. “No, it’s okay. It’s been five years now.” Veronica heaves out a breath. “I had just finished college. He’d been sick for over a year, though, so I like to think that at least he stopped suffering.”

“You must miss him a lot this time of the year.” He comments, drinking more.

Veronica shrugs. The way she misses her father is probably different from the way Archie misses his father—Hiram Lodge was a different man than Fred Andrews, overall, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel his absence all the time. She wonders if her father would be proud of her running her own business with grace, even if said business wasn’t huge like Lodge Industries once was.

Archie snaps her from her thoughts when he huffs out a laugh. “Your dad really hated me. That time when he hired me to that summer job in his office—”

Veronica ends up cackling. “Oh, my God, I do remember that. He was a nightmare,” she recalls. It was probably the summer between sophomore and junior year—Archie didn’t want to work for his father, but he needed the money if he wanted a new Playstation. So, they collectively agreed that he should work for hers. “Didn’t you go on strike or something?”

“Yes, I did.” He keeps laughing. “He did agree on giving me a raise, but then he fired me for the audacity.” Veronica watches him wipe a small tear from the corner of his eye. “He said something like, here, Archie, I’m paying you extra to never show up in front of me again.”

She can hear Hiram’s voice saying those words. She giggles into her mug, taking another sip. It’s nice to think about her father this way—she’s always musing about how demanding and serious he was, how he’d often be disappointed at her choices. She tends to forget that he was human, sometimes. Of course, Archie would be the one to remind her of that.

Another memory floods her mind. “Didn’t you use the extra money to buy me some onion rings at Pop’s?”

“And a chocolate milkshake,” he says, proudly.

“Anything to spite Daddy.”

“It wasn’t like that. I mean, annoying your father was a plus,” he drinks a little more, “but I wanted to hang out with you. I always wanted to hang out with you.”

Veronica shifts on the stool she’s sitting at. Betty said anyone could see it, the way Archie looked at her, and he’s looking at her right now—his soft honey eyes, the color on his cheeks, the permanent twitch on one corner of his lip. She breathes in, as if oxygen would get her braver to ask, “Did you have a crush on me?”

His face becomes three different shades of red. “A cru—I mean,” he stutters. Veronica narrows her eyes, waiting for the answer. “You were the head cheerleader and the prettiest girl in our school. It was impossible not—I mean, every guy had a crush on you.” He takes a long sip before adding, “And girl.”

Veronica lifts an eyebrow. Maybe it’s the wine, but she feels a tingle in her belly. She watches him pour more wine into his mug and slides her own across the counter. “Is that why you were always so nice to me? Because I was a smokeshow?”

She’s teasing—she knows that notoriously good boy Archie Andrews would never need such motivation to treat a girl well—but she asks only so it adds to the hues of pink on his face.

“If this is a reason to be nice to someone…why were you always so nice to me?”

She smirks a little. “Don’t sell yourself short, Archiekins.”

He looks at her and that tingly feeling grows, because she noticed him looking at her not a minute ago, and it was another kind of stare. This is not the same. There’s a different power in the way he lets his gaze fall down from her face to her body and up again. He’s poured more wine into her mug but instead of sliding it back for her, he takes it in his hand and goes around so they’re on the same side.

He doesn’t say anything, just hands her the mug. His fingertips brush hers, sending warmth up her arms, neck, and face. She looks at him. “Thanks,” she says. Her voice goes out lower than she expected, more seductive even if she doesn’t mean to, and he seems to notice it too, because his breath gets a little heavier.

It’s suddenly stuffy in the apartment. Veronica places the mug on the counter without drinking, and he does the same. Their eyes don’t seem to leave each other’s. He takes one step closer. Sitting on the high stool, Veronica is tall enough that her face is almost aligned with his. If she wants to, she just needs to—

“Ronnie,” he starts, but whatever it is that he had to say gets lost to a hitched breath. Veronica lets her gaze fall from his eyes to his lips, watching them part.

Maybe they shouldn’t do this, but it doesn’t matter, because they’re already doing it before the doubt can even make sense—Archie is leaning in, and she’s inching closer, and it only takes the lightest touch of their lips for that tension to snap.

She sighs and nudges his mouth open with her own. His hands are on her waist and she slides her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, and when their tongues touch, he makes a little sound into her mouth that she feels echoing in her throat.

She should’ve kissed him before, she thinks as he holds her close, as his fingers slide into her hair to pull slightly, as she lets her hands fall down the hard planes of his chest. She should’ve kissed him the other night when that song was playing, and she knew he’d kiss back; she should’ve kissed him when they were teens, and she wanted to so badly but could never admit to it, could never even imagine it without feeling guilty.

“Ronnie,” Archie whispers again when his lips abandon hers to kiss down her neck, and as she feels her eyes roll to the back of her head, she understands that he has nothing to say. It’s just her name in his mouth as he drags it up the column of her neck towards her earlobe and her earshell, and she holds onto him, sinking her nails into his back.

She searches for his mouth one more time, slipping her tongue into it. He groans when she wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him closer. She lets out a small moan when she feels him against her, and it gets him smiling. It’s an explosion of senses—his taste, his scent, the heat coming from his skin, his hands, and she wants, needs, even more.

“I think there’s one place missing in this tour,” Veronica mutters as her hands frame his face, forcing them to look into each other’s eyes again. And she knows he gets it when he picks her up with ease, and she buries her nose in the crook of his neck while her hands find his shoulder blades.

It feels like a dream. It feels that it will all vanish in her next breath.

Archie sets her on his bed, and leans in to kiss her and force her to come back to what's real, to clear her head and only feel her heartbeat and him, his tongue in her mouth, his hand running up her side and gently cupping her breast. She feels him press into her and sighs, sliding her hand under his clothes so she can feel the warm skin of his back. He sits back up and pulls his sweatshirt and shirt over his head, and stares at her, waiting for a sign.

Her royal blue sweater joins his clothes in the corner near the door.

There’s a certain haze, a fog in his mind he can’t shake off. It makes him want to stretch like a lazy cat, but he can’t because there’s someone else in his bed.

He smiles a little bit when the physical signs of what happened start being acknowledged by his sleepy brain. His swollen mouth that she bit when she shuddered underneath him. The sting of her scratches on the skin of his back. That usual, delicious ache in his muscles.

Details come rushing back to him, making his smile grow—Veronica’s dark nails against the white skin of his chest, the way she curled one leg around him to bring him closer, the way she moaned Archie in his ear and it was probably the best sound he’s ever heard in his life.

Yet, when he reaches to search for her soft skin, all he finds are barely warm sheets.

Archie opens his eyes, confused, and sees Veronica at the edge of the bed, slipping her sweater on, pulling her hair out of it. It’s still dark, barely dawn, and even if he hasn’t watched the clock, he knows it’s no time for her to leave.

“Ronnie?”

She freezes but doesn’t look at him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Archie sits up and moves closer behind her. He pulls her hair to the side and leans in to plant a soft kiss on her warm neck. He can feel the way she tenses up, straightening her spine, but it only makes him press his lips against her shoulder. “Come here,” he whispers.

Veronica shakes her head, standing up. “I have to go open the cafe. It’s normal business today, and Betty will wonder where I am.”

Archie frowns. She’s acting colder than he would’ve expected after everything that happened. It makes him wonder if he did something wrong.

“I’ll walk you there, let me just—”

“Don’t worry,” Veronica smooths out wrinkles on her outfit. She finally looks at him, and it’s not the tender, loving way he was hoping for. “It’s cold outside, so stay comfy.”

Veronica fakes a smile. His eyebrows are drawn together. He’s still naked under the covers which makes him feel even more vulnerable than he thought possible to have this conversation, but she isn’t making things easier. “Wait. Are we seriously not gonna talk about what happened here?”

“Look, we had a moment. Beautiful, but fleeting moment.”

A moment? “We spent the night together,” he quips.

“And what are we, seventeen?” She shakes her head.

He makes a face. She's certainly acting like it. “I don’t regret anything we said, Veronica, or did.”

“Me neither, but…” she heaves out a frustrated breath. “Archie, a week ago you asked Betty out on a date. Then, the day you guys call it quits because you found her with Reggie, you end up in bed with me.”

“This is about Betty? Ronnie, nothing hap—”

“I’m not gonna be your rebound. And I find it hard to believe that you changed your mind in less than twenty-four hours, so I think for both our sakes we should just pretend this moment never happened.”

Archie runs his hand through his hair, defeated. How can he explain to her that whatever was going on with Betty—which, frankly, was nothing—didn’t mean anything, without sounding like a total asshole?

“She’s the one who asked me out on a date.”

He knows he said the wrong thing before he even finishes saying it.

“Look, it’s fine. I get it. We’ve all been there before.” Veronica takes another breath, straightening her shoulders. “I really have to go and open the cafe. I’ll see you when I do.”

Archie knows that he should follow her and convince her to stay somehow, but this knowledge isn’t enough to make him move. He’s annoyed, to be honest, angry—how could last night not be enough to make her understand she’s it for him? That sitting beside her made his skin jump even in middle school, that the nausea he’d feel around her was nothing but his heart wanting to come out from his throat from beating so fast, that he’d always get amused with the way she rolled her eyes at his lame jokes but smiled anyway, that he had to push down all those feelings because she never gave him the time of the day before.

And all those mixed signs since he came back just add to his exasperation—why did she hug him like that when she first saw him at the cafe? Why did she press play on their playlist when they were alone? Why did she go through the trouble of removing the green gummy bears from a bag to give him as a Christmas gift? Why did she accept coming up last night? Why did she kiss him? Why did she ask him to take her to bed?

The front door clicks shut, just as his heart drops. He falls back on the mattress, once again wondering why he spent his entire life wanting the most complicated woman on the face of the Earth. Everything would’ve been much easier if her worries had any foundation, and he had, indeed, picked Betty when he had the chance.

The smell of snickerdoodles wafts all around the cafe, warm and spicy. It’s the telltale sign that the holidays haven’t quite ended. There’s a new recipe for New Year that’s become all the rage in Riverdale: pink champagne cupcakes. Veronica swears they never purchased so many gold star sprinkles before.

And sprinkling is what she does—like a fairy. The latest batch is almost ready for those who feel bold enough to order one on their way to work.

As she lifts her head when the doorbell rings for a new customer, Veronica spots none other than Reggie Mantle carrying a huge pile of baking trays, which is kind of funny, considering he's wearing a suit with his obnoxiously slicked back hair. Betty is holding the door open for him.

“Thanks, babe. We’re gonna need these.” Veronica watches as Betty instructs him to leave the trays behind the counter. When the job is done, Betty puts her arms around Reggie’s neck as he holds her by the waist. “Are you sure you can’t stay for a bit?”

“Mmm, I said I’d meet him at ten, Coop. I’ll pick you up later.” Reggie leans in to kiss Betty. Then, he wiggles his eyebrows at Veronica, his own way of saying hello, and Veronica waves golden-sprinkled fingers at him. Betty is pouting a little when he leaves.

“Babe? So, it is official now?” Veronica asks over her shoulder. Reggie is already gone.

Betty shrugs, her pastel pink apron and old-fashioned ponytail making her look like a blushing little girl. “What can I say? He brings out the worst in me. While I, apparently, bring out the best in him.”

There’s a little smile that makes Veronica huff out a laugh.

“I’m happy for you, B.”

Veronica keeps her attention on the pastries, accommodating them so they look even more enticing for anyone who might come in. She’s proud of her friend for following her heart, but she doesn’t want to think about that. Work has always been the best way to keep distracted.

“By the way, could you explain to me why Reggie is the one helping Archie with the legal paperwork for the warehouse?”

She stumbles and dips her pinky into the buttercream of one cupcake, ruining it. Shit. “Is he?” Veronica tries to sound nonchalant, but she knows she screwed up.

Betty takes a step back and stands right at her side, looking at her with an amused smile that turns into a mix of surprise as she tells her, “It’s been a while since I’ve seen this look on your face.”

“What look?” Veronica tries again before licking her finger because, screw it. She already ruined the cupcake, so she better enjoy it.

“The I-slept-with-someone-I-shouldn’t-have—oh my! You slept with Archie!” Betty half-yells, half-whispers, her green eyes as wide as saucers.

“What? I didn’t—” Veronica’s voice betrays her. It comes out high-pitched and as unconvincing as ever. She’s never been a bad liar, but she was caught off guard. Maybe she needs to let it out. The secret has been eating her up inside—she hasn’t slept over the past few days, a permanent headache behind her eyes because of her racing mind. Yesterday, she stirred the whipped cream so hard it turned into a block of butter.

“Veronica Cecilia Lodge,” Betty stresses, worse than her own mother and rivaling Abuelita when she caught her red-handed.

“Fine.” She rolls her eyes, and gives up. Taking a bite of the cupcake, Veronica keeps staring at Betty, knowing she’s eager for more information. “It was Christmas. I guess we were lonely, I don’t know. He’s living above the deli shop, and I was buying popcorn. And he walked in and…” She trails off. “This is all your fault anyway, Elizabeth. With your talk about signs and destiny.” She looks around and spots a kid before she hisses. “It’s all bullshit.”

Betty puts her hands together over her chest, like something terribly romantic was said. “He walked in where you were buying popcorn? Aw. Tell me, how was it? Was he amazing? Wait, no.” Betty shakes her head, then reconsiders. “Yes, but no details. I mean, some details? I’ve always wondered—”

Veronica picks a tiny gold star and flicks it at Betty’s forehead. She giggles at her frown. What can she even say? A-M-A-Z-I-N-G? The best sex she’s ever had? One for the ages? She’s been trying to get her mind off of it, but it comes rushing back, like flashbacks—Archie’s strong arms around her, his hot, open mouth on her collarbone, the way he’d lowkey smirk whenever he made her moan a little louder. She blushes, but decides to hide it by taking a bite of her cupcake’s frosting instead.

“This is so exciting.” Betty claps. Veronica frowns. “Okay, but focus, if you guys are together, then why—”

“Together? There’s no together. It was a one night stand and nothing else. It won’t happen again, I made it clear.”

Maybe it broke her heart when he didn’t really try to stop her or make her change her mind. There was a part of her expecting him to run downstairs after her, in the cold, and give her some speech—but nothing happened. He didn’t even try to call or text. He hasn’t even come to the cafe again, which is a clear sign she was right about everything.

“You spent the night with Archie Andrews, and you told him it was never going to happen again? You heartless bitch!” Betty has her arms akimbo, which makes Veronica smile sadly.

“I’m not interested in being his rebound.”

“His rebound?” Betty frowns, and looks suddenly aware of the turmoil. “Wait, this isn’t about me. Is it?”

“Yes. Maybe. No. I don’t know.” Veronica heaves a long sigh. “Archie is…he’s too much. He’s intense, and he’s—I don’t know what I want. Or if I can afford what I might want. I don’t know if I was caught up in nostalgia or—add that to the fact that he had just gotten dumped.”

Betty shakes her head. “No. V, he was gonna dump me first. Hell, for the second time in our lives. That's a sign if I've ever seen one. Fluorescent letters right in front of me.”

Veronica stares at her half-eaten cupcake.

“He was at my front door at dawn on Christmas morning to tell me we wouldn’t work, Veronica. He got out of bed to dump me before office hours. In person!”

Veronica can’t help but laugh, even though it sounds more like a sob. “Fine, it’s just—”

“Look, as your best friend, and to return the favor since you helped me with the Mantle debacle. I’ll let you know what I think—”

“No, thank you.”

“Tough luck. Shut up.” Betty musters up all her obvious motherly instincts and starts her assessment. “I think you're pushing him away before you even give him a chance because the last time you really gave yourself to someone, you got seriously hurt. You did that with Toni before things could get serious, and now you're doing that with Archie before anything can even happen because you're scared.”

Veronica looks at Betty, biting her lower lip. Perhaps her best friend has a point. It doesn’t make it any less hard to accept, though.

“But not everyone is Chad, V. And not everyone will want to be better than you, compete with you, or cheer against you. Maybe it's time you allow yourself to be happy.”

Veronica rolls her eyes. She hates to concede an argument.

It has to be said: Mantle Dealership is kind of an impressive business in such a small town, so when things went south, Archie thought Reggie would be his second best option in helping out with what he needed to do. He sits in front of his friend’s desk and looks around, thinking that at one point he’ll need to buy a car or a pickup truck.

On the other side, Reggie is going through the papers he brought and browsing online to get the rest of the information he needs.

“What you’re telling me is that you no longer want to sell the property.” Reggie doesn’t look at him and instead clicks and reads something on the screen.

“Yeah. After the charity dinner I thought about turning the warehouse into a community center of some sort.” Archie bounces his left knee. He’s worried about many things, like how he will finance this project, and if he’ll even have time to work at the school and there, but he knows he’ll figure it out. Where there’s a will there’s a way, right? That’s what his dad always said.

“Well, philanthropy is a good way to launder money, yeah, but if it's for drugs—” Reggie prattles, still keeping his gaze on the computer.

“What?” Archie scowls. “Dude, I don't want to launder money.”

Now Reggie turns to look at him. Archie can’t read his face. “Oh. No?”

Idiot. It’s painful that now he’s the best shot Archie has about business and legal advice. “No. I want to make a difference. You know, a place where the kids could stay after school so they don't get involved with bad things like drugs.”

“That’s nice.” Reggie taps his pen on the desk. “But not even a little side business? This will be a boring day.”

“You wanted me to have an illegal business? What are you doing with the Mantle Dealership?" Archie almost laughs because how could he forget Reggie used to get the alcohol and jingle-jangle for parties? He even charged a commission if the party wasn’t his or the Bulldogs’. Should he be concerned that now he’s dating his best friend?

"Don’t worry about me. Today is about you. Tell me about your plans." Reggie leans back in his executive chair and places his feet up on the side of the desk. It makes it look like he perhaps watched too many Wall Street movies, and actually wants to look like a douchebag.

“I’ve been looking for something to inspire me, to serve the town as my dad did. I thought coming back to Riverdale as a teacher would be enough, but after seeing the girls organizing the dinner for the Southside kids…I realized there are many of them who need a safe place, and I want to help them like Betty and…Veronica did.”

Archie’s shoulders drop when he says her name. He heaves a long sigh.

“Oh, man, what’s wrong with you? You have the same expression of the day I told you Santa didn’t exist.” Reggie bites, but then rolls his eyes before sitting properly on his chair. “Aren’t you supposed to be happy about doing this honorable stuff?”

“Yeah. I am. It’s not that.”

“C’mon,” Reggie slaps him hard on the shoulder. “Talk to Reggie, buddy. Whatever it is, I can fix it. There’s a shovel in the back.”

Ignoring that last part, Archie shakes his head. He can’t believe he’s about to talk about his problems with Reggie Mantle of all people, but there’s really no one else. It might be the lowest point of his life.

(Even lower than playing Last Christmas on the guitar yesterday at home, and actually feeling the lyrics. The very next day you gave it away…)

“I had the chance to be with the woman of my dreams, and I blew it.” Archie pulls a face, waiting for some sympathy, but Reggie looks at him blankly.

“What do you mean you blew it?”

“She told me to get lost,” Archie explains like it’s obvious.

“And you did?” Reggie’s brows knit together.

“Yeah. No means no, man.”

“Well, yes, but you said she’s the woman of your dreams.” He leans over the desk, and there’s the shadow of a serious expression crossing his face. “Do you know how many times Coop told me to get lost? We just don't give up like that. Put in some effort. Grab her ass.”

Archie laughs a little, running a hand down his face. It’d be funny, if it wasn’t tragic. “I grabbed her ass. I think that wasn’t enough to convince her.”

Reggie narrows his eyes, wondering. “Maybe it wasn’t the proper technique. Do you need sex tips, Andrews?”

“Go to hell, Mantle. I know what to do in bed.” Archie throws his arms up in the air, exasperated. “What am I doing? Asking you for romantic advice.”

“There’s no shame, bro. Sometimes we get nervous and we need a little help to improve our performance. But there are some organic supplements—”

“Shut up, Reg.” He pauses and then adds, “That wasn’t the problem. She was…satisfied,” he says. At least, he thinks so. He’s trying not to overanalyze everything in his memory. It just gets him more depressed. “Anyway, forget I ever said anything.”

“Are you sure? Some women try to let us down easy—”

“Jesus, this was a bad idea,” Archie mumbles as he drags a hand over his face again.

Reggie cackles.

“Okay.” He clears his throat. “So, you slept with Veronica, and she probably found a good reason for you guys not to carry on. Dude, she does that to everyone. Even Toni, who’s way hotter than you, no offense.” Archie’s eyebrows travel towards his hairline. “What you need to do is be better than everyone. Stand up for yourself. Prove to her that you're the one she needs, that you’re not gonna run off when things get hard, because we know she’s complicated. Just go against her stubbornness.”

Archie feels his face heat up. “I never mentioned Veronica.”

Reggie smirks smugly. “Like you needed to. Who else would be the woman of your dreams? You’ve had a hard-on for her since forever.”

“Ugh. Stop talking.”

“I’m just saying, you want her? Then fight for her. Stick around. Don’t let her believe she was right all along.”

Archie sighs. He doesn’t want to admit it, but this dumbass might have a point. He never had a chance like this with Veronica before, and he’ll probably never get one again if he doesn’t step up.

If there’s one thing Veronica misses from New York, it's the plethora of events to choose from, especially during the holidays. Now, she has to settle for the classic yet not quite glamorous New Year’s Eve party at the Wyrm. It’s her best excuse to get one of her designer dresses out of her closet.

While she coats her lashes with mascara, looking in the mirror, she wonders what will happen once she meets Archie there—because she will since there’s no other place for him to be tonight. Maybe he'll keep his distance. He’s like that, and wouldn’t dare to bother her, especially if he had time to reflect and agree with her.

She sprays some perfume on. Chanel Nº5, like her Abuelita.

What if Archie tries to speak to her, though? She thinks it might be enough to make her want to escape back to New York—not that she really can, considering she has a business and Betty would drag her back to the town if that's what it takes. Would she even have the courage to run away and start again? Is she that person, still?

Veronica sighs as she zips up her dress. She better find a way to keep things civil between her and Archie. What if he tries to kis—she shakes her head. No. He’s not going to. And she shouldn’t be thinking about that. The time for Hallmark movies has ended; she needs to step back into reality.

But what if Betty is right? What if they can be good together? What if he ends up loving her, for real, without an agenda, without retreating, without making her feel like shit? She's never had that. She’s had a bunch of lovers, but not real love. She knows that.

Slipping her shoes on, Veronica hears a knock on the door. It makes her frown. No one should be up here without a warning from Smithers. Could it be Betty? She told her she’d go with Reggie. Veronica checks her phone for any missed calls or texts—there’s nothing, and she’s on the brink of running late.

She huffs. It must be Betty.

Veronica opens the door, ready to argue with her best friend but instead she finds a tall redhead with broad shoulders in front of her. There’s a surprised look on his face, like he can't believe he's here.

“Hey.”

She blinks a couple of times, wondering if he’ll disappear in front of her.

“Archie.”

“I’m sorry to stop by unannounced. I know you must be busy. I mean—” he lets his gaze fall, making her cheeks heat up. “Wow.”

The way he says it is so boyish. She smiles against her better judgment. He’s wow himself, she has to admit, dressed in a nice, black sweater and dark denim, with a dark blue scarf around his neck. God, what is going on with her? She shouldn’t be smiling. Or checking him out.

She swallows, trying to collect herself. “What are you doing here?”

He blows out a breath. “I—I was looking through some of my dad’s papers today, and I—” He stutters. Veronica waits, her eyebrows creasing, because it looks like he’s going to pass out at any second. “I’m sorry,” he says, looking up at her. His lips curve up a bit. “I’m nervous.”

Veronica shakes her head. “Archie—”

“No. No. Let me do this.” He takes another deep breath. “I was looking through some of my dad’s papers today, and I found a box with some old things. My old report cards, some Valentine’s I sent my mom when I was little, and…” He takes something out of his pocket, and Veronica notices a notebook paper folded in four, slightly yellow given the years. Something like a letter. “Remember that Christmas when you and Reggie told me that Santa Claus didn’t exist?” he asks, his voice quieter, deeper, as if he managed to control his nerves.

“Yeah,” she says.

Archie hands the letter to her. Veronica can see his kiddy-like handwriting when she unfolds it carefully, crooked stars drawn all over the margin.

“Is this—”

“Can you read it?” he asks, and it’s such a genuine, warm request, that she doesn’t have it in her to say no.

“Dear Santa,” Veronica reads aloud, trying to keep her hands from shaking. “It’s me again, Archie Andrews, from Riverdale. As you must know, I turned nine last July. Mom and Dad say they are really proud of me this year, because my grades got better (just a little, but still) and because I cleaned up the yard for Mrs. Dee when she needed help because she got her hip hurt.”

She does remember all of it. She doesn’t really know what he wants from this, though. Another walk down memory lane?

“I wanted to let you know that a boy from my school, Reggie Mantle, told me that you don’t exist,” she continues. “I didn’t believe him, of course. Dad explained to me that this only happened because his parents don’t want to tell him he didn’t make your Nice List. He tried to ruin Betty’s Christmas by spreading lies too. But don’t worry, I told her the truth.”

She presses her lips together. Good, so she almost ruined his Christmas, and then he saved Betty’s. Veronica looks briefly up at him, and he’s expectant, his eyes fixed on her face. Sighing, she keeps on reading.

“Santa, since I’ve been a good boy, I hope I can have two wishes this Christmas. The first one is, I heard that another girl from my school isn’t in your Nice List, and I would like you to put her back on it because I know she deserves it. The girl is called Veronica Lodge.” Veronica’s voice falters. Her hands shake just a little bit. “She believes you don’t exist, because Reggie lied to her as well. She also found Smithers eating the brownies she baked for you.”

“Anyway.” She needs to take another grounding breath before carrying on. Her heart is beating fast, racing in her throat. Her vision is starting to blur, too. She knows there are some tears forming in her eyes, but there’s no way to hide them anymore. “She is really pretty, and nice to me. Plus, she was the best with Doodle, our class pet guinea pig.” She chuckles a wet laugh. “Even if she'll never like-like me, Ronnie is one of my best friends and she should be happy.”

Archie takes the letter back from her shaky hands. “My second wish was the latest Madden game,” he mutters, folding back the letter.

“Archie—”

“Ronnie, I wrote that letter when I was nine. It took me a long time to understand what I felt for you, but it’s always been there. I didn’t get it when I was a kid, and when I did get it—you were always with someone else. You encouraged me to be with other people. I never thought you’d like-like me. And,” there’s a rush of heat up his face, coloring  his cheekbones, the way it’s always been. Veronica bites her lower lip, waiting for him to keep talking. “It was okay, because as long as you were happy, it didn’t matter. I never stepped up to tell you how I felt, how I feel, but—coming back to Riverdale, I thought maybe it could be another chance for me to appreciate things I took for granted, like Betty’s feelings for me.” He looks at her and she can see it, in his eyes, the sheer honesty. “But the truth is, when I saw you again, there could be no one else. Veronica, you’re the one. You’ve always been the one.”

She opens her mouth, but he shakes his head, not letting her say anything.

“And I want you. What happened between us the other night,” he goes on, “I…if you don’t want me back, I know I’ll have to spend the rest of my life looking for second best, because nothing will ever—I’m sorry. What I mean is…it’s New Year’s Eve, and I prepared a much better speech in my head,” he chuckles. Veronica does too, the tears still pooling up in her eyes. Archie looks at her, serious again. “All I can say right now is that if you go to that party, I intend to kiss you at midnight. And I hope you’ll let me.”

“At midnight?” Veronica replies with the hint of a smile still playing at her lips, as she watches him catch his breath after all he had to say.

“Yea—what?” He seems dumbfounded by her reply.

Veronica takes a step closer to him, reaching out to touch his arms, bringing them to rest his hands on her waist. She holds onto his forearms, feeling the soft fabric of the sweater underneath her fingertips, and when she takes a deep breath, she takes in his scent mixed with her perfume. He stands still with his hands firm, but gentle, and even from a small distance, she can feel his heartbeat. Or is it hers? It doesn’t matter. She could tell him the truth about how she’s been feeling, too, but from now on, there’s no more past between them. Just what’s ahead.

“If you’re smart, you’re going to kiss me right now.”

He parts his lips, hands heavier on her waist, and comes even closer. “Are you sure?” he asks, softly, as if she’d disappear if he spoke any louder.

Veronica nods. “No more waiting, Andrews.”

Archie wets his lips, leaning in. Their noses brush. “Yes, ma’am,” he says against her mouth with a smile. She laughs, and then their lips meet in a kiss that could mean their happy ending is here. But it feels like just the beginning.

the end