Weirdo - Jughead Jones

17: I Think Your Homelessness Is Cute

I was nearly falling asleep once the movie ended. Kevin's shoulder was so broad and comfortable. I watched hazily as Kevin folded the blanket and laid it in the back seat.

"Hey, guys," I yawned. "I think I'm gonna take the bus home."

Kevin looked at me with a confused grin. "You're kidding, right?"

"Um. No?"

"You're dumb."

"Thank you."

"Why?"

"Shh, quiet, Kev," Veronica slapped his arm. "She wants to see Jughead."

"Ahhhh."

There was really no way around it.

"Okay, love," V said to me. She smirked as she gave me a hug. "Good night."

"Night, Maddie."

"See you later, guys." The Drive-In was nearly deserted. I watched the light coming from the projection window fade. Once the Kellers' truck left I walked around the booth and found a door. I knocked.

The door opened after a few seconds and Jughead stood in the doorway. He looked confused until he saw me and smiled. "Oh, hey."

"Hi." I smiled back. "I wanted to say thank you for the gifts."

"My pleasure." He hesitated before saying, "Do you... uh. D'you want to come in?"

"Sure."

He stepped back and held the door open for me. The room was small. Straight ahead was the projector in front of the small window, and a stool next to it. There were shelves of old movie reels, and where there weren't shelves there were posters. It looked like a mix of a projection booth and a teenager's bedroom. I stopped when I noticed a cot against the wall, a book light shining over it. Does he sleep here? I remembered what he'd said when I asked if he lived with his dad, that it was complicated. I turned to Jughead.

"I know," he said quietly. He avoided my gaze. "I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry about?" My eyebrows creased as I took a step closer to him.

"I didn't really want you to know that I...." He trailed off.

"You live here?" He met my eyes once before looking away again. "Why not?"

"Because... because I thought you would think I was some creepy hobo, or something." He looked ashamed.

I laughed at his comment, surprising him. "Not that I want you to be homeless, but," I gestured around me. "I think it's cute."

Jughead stares at me in disbelief. "Really?"

"Yeah."

"You aren't kidding? Or saying that to make me feel better?"

"Bullshit-free. Jug, it's cool. And it makes you even more extraordinary."

He laughed to himself in relief. "O-okay." He blushed a little bit. "Um, I'm going to help these guys lock up but I'll be right back, okay?"

"Yeah." I smiled at him.

He stood and looked at me for a second before holding my head between his hands and leaning in to peck me on the lips. "You think my homelessness is cute." He shook his head slightly in disbelief, smiling and still keeping his face close to mine.

"I do," I replied.

He kissed me again and headed out the door, smiling back at me one more time before closing it behind him.

I sat on his cot and looked around, admiring his room. I really wasn't lying; something about him sleeping in a projection booth that he worked in was really cute. It made him more intriguing.

I was so tired, and it was late. The warm glow of Jughead's room was soothing. His cot was so comfortable....

*    *    *    *

Tears streamed down my face as I read the headline.

JUGHEAD JONES MISSING

"I told you he was dangerous. They're all the same."

"No," I whimpered.

"This is your fault. You should have listened to me. And now he's dead."

"W-what?" I looked ahead and saw him on the ground. His blood was everywhere. "Oh my god," I sobbed. "Jug. N-no."

"It's all. Because. Of you."

"No!" I screamed as I was dragged away from him. Out of nowhere bottles were thrown at me. Everything went black when the last one hit.

I quickly opened my eyes, a silent gasp escaping my lips. Everything was dark and unfamiliar. I took a deep breath, but froze when I heard rustling to my left. And then I remembered. Jughead. I felt relief seeping through my chest as I calmed down. I was in his cot, a blanket pulled over me.

After a few moments I moved my head to the edge of the cot. I saw Jughead on the ground and under a blanket. He was awake, his hands behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. "Jughead?"

He turned his head and looked at me. "Hey." His voice was soft. "You were asleep when I came back. I didn't want to wake you up."

"Oh. Sorry." I realized that this would be his last night sleeping here. I wondered if he wanted some time with it alone. "I can leave if you want."

"No, it's fine." He smiled and lifted his hand to meet mine on the bed. "I like this."

I tangled my fingers with his. "Why are you on the floor?" He didn't seem to know how to respond. I was nervous when I whispered, "Can you come up here?"

He also looked nervous and slightly surprised. "If you want me to," he said carefully. I nodded. He nodded and rose from his place on the floor. He was only in shorts and a T-shirt, his crown beanie nowhere to be seen.

I moved closer to the wall so that he could join me. There wasn't a lot of space, so we were really close. It made my heart beat faster.

Jughead pulled the blanket over both of us and laid on his side, facing me. Are heads were inches apart.

"Are you okay?" He asked. He looked back and forth between my eyes in concern.

"I just...." I looked away as I fought back tears. My voice was barely audible. "I don't want to go home, Juggie."

"You don't have to," he said, confused. "You're here. With me."

"M-my mom, she's.... she started drinking. A lot." I breathed. "Today she was drunk and she y-yelled at me. She threw a...." I still couldn't believe what had happened. "She threw a b-bottle at me and it almost hit my head and—" I couldn't finish. A tear fell. Jughead gently shushed me and rubbed my arm. I rubbed my eyes quickly, embarrassed of getting his cot wet with my tears. "She said it was my fault that my dad's gone," I whispered.

"Jesus," he breathed out. "I am so sorry. Maddie. None of that stuff is true. You know that, right?"

"Then why was she saying it?"

"My dad's an alcoholic, too. He says shit that he doesn't mean all the time."

"What if she really thinks that, though? What if all she needed was to get drunk before telling me?"

He paused. "Maybe she does. But even if so, you didn't do anything, Mads. It isn't your fault." He moved closer and continued to move his hand up and down my arm. "Okay?"

"Okay." I sniffled. After a moment I giggled and said, "Weirdo."

He smiled at me, meeting my eyes through the darkness. "Gorgeous."