Lost (in Your Emerald Eyes)

E L E V E N

The week went by fast, Jughead visiting Pop's every day as usual, but spending a bit less time there than he had the previous few weeks. He got to hang out with Betty day after day, just sharing smiles and, when she and Joaquin weren't busy, playing cards. The highlights of his days, before going to work and leaving after spending a few hours with the girl, were the small conversations they would have during his friend's short lunch breaks.

Or they could be called late lunch breaks.

Joaquin ate at strange hours, even for Jughead. He had his lunch at 5 pm, and while it was odd, the beanie-wearing boy was happy to spend some quality time with only Betty when he wouldn't have to pretend they weren't friends.

The girl was still up for their date on Sunday, and he already knew where he was going to take her. It was gonna be different than the last one, but Jughead wondered that if he took Betty on a date to the exact same place every time, for the exact same activity, she would get bored, and it wouldn't be as special.

With the week, he had found out some things she liked to do—reading, watching movies, photography, of course, and fixing cars. The last part didn't come as a surprise to Jughead as the girl had mentioned the fact before, but he did get some flashy pictures of her in front of his eyes, in overalls, oily, and with a towel thrown over her shoulder, smiling at him.

"I also write pretty good, but it's mostly my parents' passion, not mine," she had told him on Thursday. Jughead nodded, noting that, and briefly wondered if he should tell her that he loves writing.

He decided to stay silent and turned the topic over to what her favorite movie genre was. At that the blonde had chuckled, a bit embarrassed, with her cheeks red, and while looking at her hands, murmured, "Old documentaries."

He hadn't been excepting this and chuckled a bit at her awkwardness before telling her that he had never seen any, but would be willing to try if she was okay with watching some crime with him.

Betty had laughed at that and promised to do that someday, not even knowing that it was going to be true sooner rather than later.

The girl was looking forward to Sunday while simultaneously dreading it. Her parents were going to be home on the weekend this time, and she had asked for Jughead to meet her about a block away, just in case.

In the early morning, Betty ate breakfast with her family, as they did every Sunday. And while in most households, one of the two days on the weekend, pancakes were served, in hers it definitely wasn't that way.

Alice Cooper wanted her daughter to be perfect. She demanded the best grades, the perfect attitude, etcetera. Betty was always pressured to be exactly that—perfect. Her sister and brother had been raised the same way, but somehow, they always got away with everything, being twins. When Polly had a baby while still in high school, her parents (mostly her mother), had become even more strict with her youngest child. She needed to come out perfect.

And for that reason, just two years ago, her diet had drastically changed, too. When younger, Betty and her siblings were allowed one milkshake a day, and a meal at Pop's once a week. But then, after Polly and Charles went away for college, Betty's mom had become stricter than usual, demanding her daughter to be the perfect weight (which in her eyes meant unhealthily skinny).

So, no, it wasn't a pancake Betty enjoyed that morning. It was eggs that her father had made with toast with bacon (and a side salad, of course), and when Alice Cooper rose from the table, claiming to have to work in the office, Hal pushed the plate full of bacon towards his youngest daughter who never was allowed any piece of it.

"Can I?" Betty asked timidly, her green eyes widening a bit in anticipation.

"Of course, honey, just don't tell your mother," the man said with a small smile.