5 Years On | Bughead

Two

"Why did we break up again?" Jughead asked and approximated a smile, trying to be casual about it. Betty's company was good for him. He was glad she had stayed the night, just lying on the living room floor, talking with him. Somehow, it had helped. If only a little.

"I don't know, Jug," Betty said a little uncomfortably. She sat up from the floor. "Do you have a toothbrush I can borrow?"

He started to sit up. "Yeah, let me show y –"

"No, just tell me," she said firmly and stood up.

Betty closed the door to the bathroom. Closed it on him. Because he had followed her anyway. She looked at herself in the mirror and took a few deep breaths.

Her hair was matted as if she had had sex, but she hadn't. She smirked at the irony. She and Jughead hadn't even touched each other once his hand was feeling a bit better – they just lay there on the floor all night, their glowing eyes the only connection between them through the darkness. But now her eyes were bloodshot and she was so tired. And the light creeping in through the bathroom window wasn't helping.

"What are you doing, Betts?" she said softly to herself and hung her head.

"Betty?" there was a little nudge at her shoulder. It took her a while to adjust to her surroundings. Oh, yeah. The trailer. Jughead's bed. She had finally crashed here this morning. What time was it now?

"Betty, your phone keeps ringing. Someone's trying to get ahold of you." Jughead was sitting on the edge of the bed and held out her phone to her. "Someone named Gregg?"

"Uh, yeah," Betty gingerly took the phone from Jughead's hands. "Let me call him back."

She steeled herself for this. But why should she have to steel herself? She hadn't done anything wrong.

"Yeah, sweetie it's me," she said when Gregg picked up the phone. She felt Jughead stiffen and looked over at him. He was staring straight ahead at the wall.

"Uh huh, yeah. I saw Archie. Yes, and Jughead, too." She nodded. "Yeah, I know, Gregg. But it's a bit harder than you think."

She hung up.

"Juggie, I have to tell you something."

"He's your boyfriend, Betty." Jughead sarcastically swung his head to the side. "I think that's pretty obvious."

"No, Juggie . . . He's my fiancé."

He glanced down at her left hand. There was no ring there. Diamond or otherwise. "So?"

"What do you mean 'so'?"

"Does it even make a difference, Betty? You left me long ago –"

"I did not!"

"You did," Jughead said firmly, angrily. "So, what does it matter now?"

"It matters because –" she choked on a sob. "Because I came here to say goodbye to you and now I'm finding I can't just leave you. You're a wreck."

She brought her hand to his cheek, but he slowly reached up and removed it without saying a word. Then he got up from the bed and moved towards the front door of the trailer. She followed him.

"Jughead, please talk to me. Tell me what's wrong. What happened to you?"

Her only answer was the slamming of the door behind him.