Plotting

 "Actually, I was about to come and find you, Cheryl. I have a gift certificate for hers-and-hers mani-pedis and blowouts at Chez Salon. Do you want to come with me?" Betty asks, all innocence. But she doesn't know me. It's been a week, and she doesn't know what I'm capable of.

"Don't do that," I warn.

Betty won't beat me at my own game, but at the same time I sort of feel awful. In retrospect, telling her that Archie will never love her and that she should give up was like the old Veronica. The one who ruined girls and laughed in their faces just for the fun of it.

But Betty becoming best friends with Cheryl is unnecessary, and they both know it. I'm the only reason Cheryl isn't still making snide comments about Betty's eating habits and calling her fat. I'm the only reason she became a cheerleader and is now top of the heap. I made her, and she tossed me aside like an old ragdoll.

Maybe she's just mad, a voice in my head considers, but that doesn't excuse what she did. If she wants to act like one of the bitches I fought off in New York, then she'll be treated like one. With that thought in mind, I walk away.

That night, I pull a sheet of lined paper out of my desk drawer and write Betty a letter, the first part of my plan:

Dear Betty,

I'm sorry about the way I acted at cheer practice yesterday. You should know that I will always stand by you, no matter who you decide to be friends with. Even Cheryl Blossom. Could you meet me at Pop's tonight at 6:30 so we can talk?

Love,

Veronica

I fold it into thirds and put it in the outside pocket of my backpack, then fall onto my bed and close my eyes.

I wake up to sunlight falling across my face through the slats of my blinds. The sheets are tangled in my legs, and my thick black hair is unbrushed and splayed unceremoniously across my pillow. I sit up with a groan and check the time: 7:23. Only a little under forty minutes left to get to school, and I have to be early so I can put the note in Betty's locker.

Jumping up, I dash to the bathroom, brushing my teeth and splashing water on my face. After putting on minimal makeup, I throw on an old dress that's been on my floor for weeks. I truly look awful, but I have to go. Foregoing breakfast, I dash out the door, yelling goodbye to my mom.

I get to school ten minutes early, and jam the note through a slat in Betty's locker. Then, I grab my books and head to class.

I spot Betty for the first time today at lunch. She's walking fast across the courtyard, the note clutched in her hand. When she sees me, she yells my name.

My lip curls as I see her, but I force a smile and stride confidently toward her.

"Hey, Betty!" I call.

"Veronica! Do you really mean what you said in the letter?" she asks, jumping right in.

"Of course," I say, flashing a winning smile, "Betty, I would never want to ruin this friendship over something small like that."

"Well, actually," she continues, "it didn't go so well last night. She insulted Polly and I told her to get out. Um, well, not exactly that politely, but whatever. Anyway, it's over."

I take a moment to mull this over. Do I really need to hurt her now? But then I remind myself that it is the thought that counts, and she tried to hurt me.

But all I say is, "Oh, Betty, are you okay? God, she's such a bitch! Especially because you tried to help her and be her friend during a time like this."

"I know, but I'm alright," Betty says gently.

I fold her into a hug, and the rest of lunch and the day passes with us chatting in the hallways about random things, but it's enjoyable. I can't think that way, though. Not when I'm planning to break her heart.

Once I'm home, I text Archie:

Hey, do you want to meet at Pop's at 6? Sorry for the short notice, it's just that I really want to see you.

His response is almost immediate:

Ummmm is this a date? I'm not sure I can do that to Betty.

I smile while I answer:

Oh, I already talked to Betty. She completely understands. So, what do you think?

He answers:

Alright then. I'll be there.

I grin, and then move to get dressed. After a few minutes of rummaging in my closet, I pull out a deep red dress, and grin. Putting it on, I look at myself. It's low cut, but not too much so, and it ends mid-thigh. Then I look at my plain black heels and red lipstick and curled hair. I'm overdressed, but it's been so long since I could dress nicely. Also, Archie won't be able to take his eyes off me.

As I grab my keys and yell to my mom where I'm going, I hesitate again. I don't know why this particular betrayal hurts me so much, but I shake my head and dash out the door.

Once I'm at Pop's, I stop and check my makeup in the rearview. I hesitate once more, then, annoyed, get out of my car and lock it. As I enter the diner, all eyes go to me. The girls look jealous, and one guy whistles. I shoot him a death glare and he immediately looks down at his burger, sheepish.

Archie stands up at a booth and waves me over. The clicking of my heels are the only sound in the restaurant as I cross it. Sliding into the booth, Archie smiles at me.

"I guess I'm a bit under-dressed," he comments, gesturing to his plaid button-down and blue jeans.

"Oh no, you're fine," I say smoothly. We order shakes and burgers, and then I see Betty's car.

She gets out, then waves to me. When she sees Archie and my outfit, she frowns, then just looks confused. Archie begins talking, "So there I am, trying --" She comes through the door, and I lean toward Archie, cutting him off in the middle of his sentence. Our lips are about to touch, and Betty's eyes widen, but I can't do it. I can't be that girl anymore. I quickly shift my face to the right, and act like I'm whispering something into Archie's ear. Now, both Archie and Betty look very confused, but it's better than Betty hating me forever.

"Um, hey guys, am I interrupting something?" Betty asks.

"Oh my God, Betty!" I say, improvising. I had a whole speech worked out for after this, but since I changed my plan, I'll have to think fast. "I'm so sorry, I totally forgot I was meeting you here when I texted Archie. It's been so long since we talked, so I was thinking we could catch up!"

"Oh, well I can come back later or something," she offers.

"NO!" I say too quickly, "I mean, you should stay. Could we have a minute, Archie? I'm so sorry."

"Yeah, sure," he says, still obviously confused.

As soon as he leaves, Betty sits down in his spot.

"Veronica, what's going on?" she asks, her eyes shining.

And so I tell her everything. How I arranged to have her and Archie there at the same time to make her jealous, but how I couldn't go through with it.

"Please don't tell Archie," I whisper.

"I won't," she replies, "I just don't understand why we couldn't just talk, though."

"From now on, we will," I promise, then call Archie back to the table.

We share milkshakes and laughs for the rest of the night, and for the first time in a while I'm happy. I don't deserve Betty, but she's there for me, and I'm thankful.