Jellybean Jones

Chapter 74: Be That Girl

TW: Slight speak of self harm throughout chapter.

Jellybean POV
Monday came too quickly. I sat in homeroom, trying desperately to avoid stealing a glance at the person I knew was sitting behind me, but I was tempted. I had busied myself by throwing open my agenda and pretending to scribble down my schedule when Seth had came into the room, but of course, with me being the way that I am and all, I had already filled it out.

With nothing left to do, I quickly became bored. I played with my eraser, slipping the plastic and paper wrapper on and off again and again. I really do fidget a lot, now that I think about it. Sitting still is hella boring. I put my eraser back down and placed my hands in my lap. I stared at them, but quickly noticed that there were still those red nail marks dug faintly into my palms. I don't even realize I do it, it just happens, I know I need to stop. I have to stop, I'm just not sure how.

What I should do is talk to Dad or Jughead about it, but I just don't want to. This almost feels pathetic, like it's nothing, but the pain that it causes me still means something. They just wouldn't understand, I still don't think they fully understand why I started self harming in the first place, even though I had only seriously done it once. Does the scratching and digging in my nails even count? Can I even say I struggled with self harm if the only scar I have was caused by a thumb tack?

I rested my head on my desk, my thoughts were becoming overwhelming. I only used a tangible object that's not my nails one singular time. I just want to pretend that this never happened, I wish I could go back and put down that tack, then I never would've started with my nails, then I wouldn't be having these thoughts now. I felt like I needed a distraction from this, but I was sitting in homeroom on a Monday at my desk. What could distract me now?

'Oh my, too deep, please stop thinking'. That's a lyric from Car Radio by Twenty One Piløts. Song lyrics kind of take up half of the unoccupied space in my mind. If there's any at all. Because at this point, I'm pretty damn sure my head is full enough.

Jughead POV
"But I thought you said you'd stopped." I whispered, as Jellybean stared at her feet. I had seen her palms, I assume she hadn't meant for me to. "I have. Besides I only really did it once, this other stuff with my nails almost feels like it doesn't count." She explained. I didn't answer her as I unlocked the front door, Dad had just left for work. "Jellybean," I began, closing it behind us. "no matter how much, how deep, how you do it, it still is self harm." I said, in an attempt to get through to her. My voice was thick with emotion. Of course it counts, how could it not?

She tensed, a look of guilt visible on her face. "I don't mean to do it, it's like, just an automatic reaction, muscle memory." She said frustratedly. Then I had a thought. "You know who you could talk to about this?" I began. "Jug, I don't want to go to counselling or anything like that." She said quickly, almost seeming embarrassed. "That's not what I was going to say." I said. She looked at me quizzically. "I was going to say Betty. I forgot until now, but Betty used to do that." I told her. "Really?" She asked. "Really." I assured.

"She just seems so...perfect." She added. "No matter how perfect a person may seem, we all have our darknesses, don't we?" I rationalized. She pondered this for quite some time, trying to think of how to respond to this. "Weird flex." She finally concluded. I scoffed. "In the real world, you have to respond to something maturely instead of with an internet thing." I stated. "Oof." She replied. I exhaled slowly before responding. "Big mood." I said finally. "Oh, I'm sorry, I thought in the real world you have to respond to something maturely." She mocked. "That's an equally weird flex." I said. We looked at each other and laughed.

Betty POV (YEET)
Upon getting home from school the next day, my phone buzzed. I sighed, assuming it would just be Kevin with more fake news. I was, however, thrilled to find out that it was a text from Jughead, but the thrill disappeared as soon as I read it. Hey Betts, you remember when you used to dig your nails into your palms? It read. God, I had tried very hard to forget about that. It had been a much darker, sadder time. I have these faint little crescent scars that seem like they're never going to fade away.