Chapter Text
“Is it any good?” Archie asks nervously. “Is it awful? It’s awful.”
“No, it’s…” Betty lapses into silence, listens to his voice frame words, notices a botched chord transition – years of violin will do that to you. “It’s good. I mean, you’re no Ed yet - ”
He yanks out her earbuds with a huff, and Betty screws her nose up at him. “I’m not trying to be Ed!” The squeak in his voice is amplified by the bleachers.
“You’re a ginger guy doing acoustic love ballads. Of course you’re trying to be Ed.” Veronica plops down beside Archie, and he stiffens like a frightened cat. Betty tries not to take pleasure in it. “May I?” She doesn’t wait for a response, and slips the earbuds in.
Archie gapes at her with a ‘mayday, mayday!’ look on his face. Betty grins at him and says, “I think you could polish up the lyrics a tiny bit. Maybe vary the subject content. Love songs wear a little after a while, but I like it. If you were busking, I’d give you a couple bucks.”
“Is that praise?” Veronica asks.
“Yes,” Archie says decisively. “Betty runs from public donations.”
“Mom says they’re all scams,” Betty responds, in a tiny voice. “And once when I was seven a Salvation Army bell-ringer hit me in the face halfway through Jingle Bells.”
Veronica bursts out laughing, and Archie says, “Oh man, I forgot about that. Dad had to pick you up and run away with you before you cried.”
The song ends, and Veronica, the remnants of the laugh slipping from her face, hands Archie his earphones. “Nice,” she says, and though Betty isn’t even receiving the praise she feels it wash over her like a warm bath. “If I have to go back to Manhattan I’ll hand out your mixtape.”
“Deal.” Archie holds out his hand to shake hers, which Veronica does in a very business-like manner. Betty isn’t paying attention; instead she watches Jughead Jones slink across the parking lot, somehow taller and thinner than ever before, and she didn’t think that was possible. She hopes he’s doing alright, now that he and Archie aren’t talking. Betty was only ever Jughead’s friend via Archie, but it always drove her mother mental, and, though she would like to, she’s too afraid to approach him alone. He’d reject her, anyways. He always did love The Catcher in the Rye too much.
“Betty?”
“Yes?” She snaps back to the present, and hopes that her vacancy wasn’t too obvious. She’s trying her hardest to skimp on the Adderall, but she really doesn’t know if it’s working or not.
“Bell rang.” Veronica is already standing, adjusting the straps of her backpack as Archie extends a hand to her. “C’mon, they’re doing the cross product today.”
Betty rises under her own power and doesn’t feel guilty when Archie flinches. “Let’s go, then.”
Veronica leads the way, chattering about how much nicer calculus is than algebra, and Betty flicks her eyes over her shoulder to see Jughead vanish. When she looks back Archie is staring too, mouth pressed into a thin line. He doesn’t meet her eyes.
Betty catches up with Veronica, who slips her arm into hers, and adds one more worry to the pile.