the other boys ⇨ jarchie

16

jughead.

friday. it's the last day of school before winter break. i wake up on the makeshift bed that betty made for me, since her mom refused to let me sleep in the same bed (even though i'm the one with the broken rib).

"no, betty!" alice had said on the previous night. "jones boys always find a way to get what they want... and that includes female anatomy!"

the morning sun washes over me, warming my shirtless body. birds tweet outside. for once, it's an alright day. there's no snow or rain. just cold. i look at the time on my phone, 7:30. i get up from the heap of pillows and blankets and i shake betty gently.

"b? come on, time to wake up," i whisper. she turns over, a pink tank top and matching woolly bottoms clothe her: her nipples are showing through her top.

"betty," i laugh, "you got a little um.. situation there."

she groans herself awake, and looks down. her face goes bright red and she covers them. "oh my god. i'm so sorry."

"it's fine," i giggle. "you know who wouldn't mind it though..."

betty blushes and looks away. "veronica..."

"yep. now come on we gotta get ready," i yawn, stretching. betty sits up, throwing on a white hoodie.

"jughead forsythe pendleton jones the third!" betty exclaims, a grin lighting up her face, "look at those muscles!"

i flex my biceps. "yea, i'm getting to look like rocky fucking balboa," i say sarcastically.

i grab archie's t-shirt that he gave me on wednesday night, and we both head downstairs. we're greeted to the loud humming of the tv in the living room, alice cooper already awake, watching the real housewives of beverly hills. a mug of tea is in her hand, and the newspaper is next to her on the couch.

"hey mom," betty smiles, walking to the kitchen a few metres away.

"oh! hey betty," the blonde woman says back, looking at her. she nods to me. "jughead. did you kids have a nice sleep?"

"yep."

betty grabs cinnamon toast crunch out of the cupboards in the kitchen. it's a ritual thing, every time i sleep at her house we have to have that cereal. it's our inside joke - to whom it would be funny, i have no idea. once we take our seats at the kitchen table, betty's mom waltzes over. she clears her throat.

"so did you sleep on the floor, jughead?" she asks.

"yes, mrs cooper." i reply, gazing up at her.

"betty, did he sleep on the floor—"

"mrs cooper, i hope you don't mind me saying this, but i am a homosexual. i do not like girls. i am a fag. i like to kiss boys. as beautiful as your daughter is, i would not like to fondle her because she is a female," i finish, plopping my spoon in the bowl.

alice looks taken aback, her mouth gaping slightly. "oh. well you could have made it a little clearer..."

"i have said this multiple times," i say. "but at least you get the memo now."