Limbo | Bughead

~1~

"I'm sorry."

"This never should've happened."

"Can we forget about this? Please?"

"He can't know. Please, please don't tell him. He'd be heartbroken."

"I'm sorry, Juggie. I really am."

"I have to go."

"We'll still be friends. We will always be the best of friends."

Her words played through Jughead's mind violently, engraving every syllable in his memories and filing each letter under 'Regrets.' The whole situation is a regret of his. Betty Cooper is a regret.

So Jughead laid alone in his bed, awake even at 3:20 in the morning, and refusing to cry over Betty. He was just so angered over the whole situation. Angry at Betty, more so angry at himself for trusting her. But Jughead never signed up to be some variation of a summer fling, especially not Betty Cooper's.

"Jughead?" whispered the voice of his twin sister, Veronica, from the doorway of Jughead's bedroom.

"What is it, Ronnie?" He answered groggily, turning his head to face his sister, equipped with her raven-black cloak and matching purse.

"I was just heading to Pop's-- want anything?" She asked, hand on the door frame and purse hanging from her arm.

"At three in the morning?" Jughead asked in a joking scoff.

"I got the munchies," Veronica explained, taking her hand off the wall and putting it on her stomach.

"You could just get me a coffee. Thanks, Ronnie." He replied, a dreary sigh following his sentence.

"At three in the morning?" She joked. Both twins shared a few chuckles before Veronica stepped down the stairs and out the front door.

Once Jughead heard the front door open and close downstairs, he grabbed his phone and saw three missed calls; one from Archie, one of his and Veronica's best friends since age three, and the other two from Betty.

"Can't you control your girlfriend, Arch?" Jughead mumbled to himself.

It took a lot of internal convincing before Jughead was able to text Betty.

Jughead: You called? Twice?

She saw it instantly.

Betty: I wanted to talk to you.

Jughead: About what?

Betty: You know...

Betty: About what happened.

Jughead: Whatever are you referring to?

Betty: Please, Juggie, don't be like this.

Jughead: You told me to forget and that's what I intend to do.

Betty: Not before we talk about it at least.

Betty: Maybe we could we some closure?

Jughead: You say 'we' like it means something to you. I think we both know that's not true.

Betty took a while to type after that; ten minutes at least. That's how Jughead knew she didn't respond how Betty wanted to.

Betty: I'm sorry.

Jughead: It took you an awfully long time to type two words.

Betty: I just wish things weren't so complicated. I just wish they were as simple as they were when we were younger.

Jughead looked over at his nightstand where two photos were displayed. One, a picture of Archie, Betty, Veronica, and himself on the first day of kindergarten when they were six, Betty still five due to her December birthday, and the second was a picture of the four sitting in a booth at Pop's when they were fourteen. They'd always been so close, the four of them.

Jughead: As easy as you, you mean?

Jughead: And aren't you afraid that your 'boyfriend' might read these texts?

He saw Betty typing, but before the message could show up, the front door opened and he turned off his phone before heading downstairs.

"Tell me you plan on sleeping soon. School starts in, like, five hours," Veronica chuckled, setting her plastic bowl of salad on the kitchen table.

"You see me drinking coffee, right?" Jughead joked to his sister, setting his cup on the counter.

"Have you talked to Betty lately?" Veronica asked out-of-the-blue, stabbing her salad with a plastic fork.

"Um, no, not really. Why?" Jughead lied in response.

"She just seems...conflicted. And by the looks of it, you two got pretty close over the summer. Just thought I'd see if you knew anything," she answered with a shrug if her shoulders.

"Talk to her at school, I guess," he suggested. Ugh, school. How messy that would make things.

---

The next morning seemed to have happened in slow motion. Jughead dreaded seeing Betty, he dreaded seeing Archie, he dreaded seeing them together, but most of all, he dreaded knowing the truth.

When the time came for the four to meet up in the student lounge, the first sight Jughead saw nearly made him sick: Betty sitting beside Archie, her legs across his lap.

There was a smile on her face as her hand brushed through Archie's ginger locks. The sad truth was that only two people in that whole room knew Betty's smile was fake, and Archie wasn't one of them.

"Juggie! Ronnie!" Betty cheered, seeing the twins walk in as both her and Archie got up from the couch.

Betty hugged Veronica, both girls smiling as Archie and Jughead greeted each other with the same handshake they've done since they were seven. Then they switched, Archie and Veronica sharing a hug as Betty came over to Jughead.

Hugging each other felt so scripted after everything that had happened, but it was for vanity, to look like everything was normal.

---

It was a few minutes of comparing schedules and brewing tension between Betty and Jughead before the bell rang and everyone headed for their first class.

It's not like Jughead wanted to ignore Betty all week, but it seemed like that was the only option.

That is until he was on his way to third period.