Time | Bughead

Chapter Three

"I'll go, but you need to wait until tomorrow night," Betty said, closing her eyes tightly for a moment before opening them and adding, "And I need a ticket for tomorrow's game."

"How much?" Alice asked, her eyes locked on the sighing blonde across from her as she reached into her purse for her wallet. 

"Five bucks," Betty answered, her hand on her forehead as she thought over her choice. Alice handed her a five-dollar bill that Betty folded and shoved in her pocket as her mom started the car.

"Did he not want it?" Alice asked, concerned as she drove down the road, turning her head to her daughter who was nearly cuddling the door. After a few seconds of silence, she cleared her throat and asked, "Betty?"

"You're sending me away, Mom. So, 'excuse me' if I don't wanna talk to you," Betty replied dully, her eyes still looking at the window and avoiding her mother's gaze. 

"It's in your best interest. I wouldn't do it if I thought it wasn't a good idea," Alice said simply, trying her best to defend her stance. 

"Oh, yeah, right. So this," Betty said, pointing to her stomach. "Doesn't end up like this," she finished, pointing to herself. "Because we're all just fucking mistakes, aren't we?"

The rest of the car ride was silent until Alice's car pulled up into the garage, Betty instantly getting out and heading upstairs only to be stopped by Alice's voice. "Betty, wait." The blonde turned her head hesitantly, leading her mom on. "I wanna talk you through how this is gonna work."

---

The next morning, Alice drove Betty to school, per usual, only this time, she came in with her daughter, going into the office to unenroll Betty for the rest of the year. Betty avoided everyone on her way to each of her classes, trying to leave like a ghost, unnoticed.

At lunch, she walked around campus, realizing she wouldn't step through these halls again after today. She realized a lot right then; she wouldn't be walking at graduation, her credits probably wouldn't transfer, fresh air would be limited for the next nine months.

It was overwhelming for the blonde, leaving her facing the outside wall of one of the buildings, her palm against it, and her eyes down. "Are you okay?" came the voice of a girl, which was discovered to be an old friend of Betty's.

"Veronica?" the blonde asked, looking up at the raven-haired girl in a white button-up and black skirt. The two were close when they were younger until Veronica's parents moved their daughter to a Catholic school, deciding Betty wasn't a good influence on her.

"Yeah, I'm...I'm fine, I'm just," Betty paused, looking around. "Don't you dare fucking tell her. All it takes is one little peep and this gets back to Jughead by the wrong mouth." "This is my last day here," she explained.

Veronica only lifted and lowered her head slowly, her mouth in a silent 'o' shape in understanding before saying, "Well, I'm glad you're okay," before putting a friendly hand on Betty's shoulder as she walked past her, schoolgirl heels echoing on the concrete.

---

"I'll be right here waiting for you. You have twenty minutes and then we have to leave, got it?" Alice asked, parked in front of the school while the cheers of students with Bulldog pride echoed from the field.

"'Kay," Betty answered simply as she unbuckled her seatbelt, anxious to get out of the car and into the locker room. She walked by the metal fence that separated the field and stands from the rest of the campus, littered with people and actual litter.

Betty wasn't an idiot and she knew damn well she wouldn't sit through two hours of screaming students and energetic boys just to spill the truth to her baby daddy. So instead, she showed up with fifteen minutes left of the game, going straight for the locker room and closing the door behind her.

She looked around, making sure there wasn't anyone else inside before taking a seat on the bench, exhaling slowly as the muffled sounds of the game acted as white noise. Each minute that passed by brought a new wave of anxiety to the blonde as she waited for that door to open.

She thought over what she could say to him but everything that came into her head, she quickly dismissed.  "Remember two weeks ago? Well, there's a reminder inside of me." No. "Look, I'm pregnant with your baby and now I'm gonna go give it up for adoption in nine months." No.

It was the chime of her phone that pulled her back to reality as a text from her Mom stretched across her screen, reading, "Five minutes." Betty looked to the ground, trying to listen for the sounds of the game but only getting the whoops and hollers of the victorious Riverdale High Bulldogs.

She took a deep breath, waiting for the locker room door to open and number twenty-three to greet her. Another text from Alice made Betty look at her phone, this one sent in the two minutes since her last one. "Betty, I'm serious. Don't make me come find you."

"That last pass could've won the whole game," said Archie as he playfully nudged Jughead with a smile on his face, the rest of the team behind them.

"It did, man. Are you gonna go with the team to Pop's later?" Jughead replied, looking at his best friend who was adjusting his helmet under his arm. 

"I'm not sure. I might just go home and work on some songs," Archie replied, rubbing the back of his neck before the sound of the coach calling out for his team made both boys look in his direction.

"Jones, Andrews, come on, guys, we're taking a picture," the coach yelled, waving the boys over as he stood by a group of River Vixens with some other Bulldogs. 

"C'mon, man," Archie said, walking over toward the coach and gesturing Jughead to follow him, although he only gave a hesitant look in response. 

"I really gotta get to the locker room," Jughead said with an indecisive look. "It's important, or at least as far as I know, it is."

"It's just one picture. We need the star player in the shoot, obviously," Archie chuckled, smiling as Jughead made up his mind and followed the ginger.

---

After what felt like forever, Jughead managed to sneak away, heading towards the locker room, opening the door as he called out, "Betty?" only to find the room empty as he walked in. He looked around the room, seeing the practice sign-in sheet with a ripped-out bottom corner that he swore wasn't there before.

Confused, Jughead went to his locker; a small blue door with a letterman-style '23' on it. A corner piece of paper sat right in front of him as he opened it and on the paper, a message written in red ink.

"I'm pregnant. It's yours."