Jokes On You (Veronica Lodge)

Chapter 11

I couldn't have been in a bigger hurry to get out of Queenie's car, and not because of her god awful driving. Ever since last night she has been apologizing profusely about outing me to Betty. Well kind of outing me to Betty.

"Seriously, I didn't mean to Joker. I thought it was the group chat with F.P." Queenie said making me want to die. She accidentally outed me to Betty, it's fine. I'm building a bridge and getting over it. I just really want her to drop it. Like I love her and it's sweet that she feels bad, but I want to pretend it hasn't happened.

"One, I said it was okay she would have found out eventually and two, why would F.P. be talking to Veronica. I'm actually more concerned about F.P. and Veronica talking then facing Betty after everything she now knows." I joke trying to get Queenie to drop the topic. I would be more concerned if Veronica was talking to F.P. because there are only like three reasons people talk to F.P. 1) To get money 2) to get someone to do a job 3) To get a job. That's about it unless you're one of the few people who snoop into his personal business, those people are the people F.P. avoids.

"That is true. If Veronica and F.P. were talking we'd have more than just one problem," Queenie responded while swinging into an open parking space.

Cars are the most awful talking place ever. There's no escape. You want to tell someone something and you don't want them to walk out, go for a drive. If you drive fast enough they won't even think about jumping out because it'd be a death wish.

"Are you up to talk to Betty after last night? We can always get back in the car and skip." Queenie offered before I could open the door. Staying home and not facing Betty sounded wonderful, but I eventually have to face her. I might as well get it over with.

"I will never be up to talk with Betty, but I have too. She's our friend," I say not voicing my real fears. My fear is that she'll be like them. Caring and sweet until she finds out. I know it's slightly irrational because she accepts Kevin and why wouldn't she accept me, but the thing is people are more accepting of gays then bis. There are even Biphobic people in the LGBT community so isn't there a chance that Betty is also Biphobic?

This has nothing to do with Betty as a human. Going off of how I view Betty she would accept me no problem, but I can't get my hopes up like this. I have to always be prepared for the worst. If I don't prepare for the worst, it will hurt even more when I get crushed.

Queenie leads me into the school and suddenly, I don't feel incharge. I feel like they're all above me and mocking me when in reality I know that's not true. However, it feels like they all know and like they're all judging me. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe I should have stayed home at least today. No, you can't do that Joker. You can't hide from them forever, they don't know anymore about you then you know about them.

"Maybe this wasn't a good idea," I mumble. Queenie looks at me.

"It's fine Joker, its Betty. She's not going to do anything, and even if she tried I'm right here and I'm sure Juggie would come to your rescue." Queenie said while trying to get me to stop overthinking it. It wasn't really working, it just made me want to go hide in a dark corner at the Whyte Wyrm.

My hand fumbled around with a deck of cards in my pocket. The closer we got to places that we'd normally see Betty the more the cards came out of my pocket. Until the entire deck was out of my pocket in my hand. I probably looked like a nervous mess walking around shuffling a card deck, but what else could I be? The longer it took to find Betty the more nervous I became. Then the worst thing ever happened, the bell rang.

I looked at Queenie more nervous than ever. I guess I'll just have to wait until lunch for Betty to tell me she can't be friends with someone who likes guys and girls. I'll have to wait till later to have everything I thought I once knew ripped out from underneath me. I gave Queenie a forced smile before walking to class.