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"the sun is up, the sky is blue, it's beautiful and so are you"
-the beatles
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It's after four.
There's not supposed to be anyone who'd care enough to glance inside the Gold & Blue's editorial room at the school. There's not supposed to be anyone there to witness the pity party she's having.
Wet tears that leave trails down her cheeks and cling to the bubblegum lip gloss Veronica shared with her earlier that day, Betty's shoulders rattle as she stares at the text message her dad sent five minutes earlier, interrupting the flow of thoughts and work she'd been putting into her next piece for the paper.
A sob escapes her lips before she can even realize there's a figure at the door, hesitant to walk in at the sight of her hunched over and shaking. But at the cry, he walks in with slow steps, alerting her to his presence.
"Betts?"
Betty's head snaps up, her ponytail bouncing at the quick movement as blue eyes dart to the boy just a few feet away. Her hands move up quickly to wipe at the tears still clinging to dark lashes, but he's no fool. If her bloodshot eyes and red nose hadn't given her crying away, her tremulous voice would have.
"Juggie?" she says, sitting up and forcing a smile to her face. "Hey, what—what are you doing here?"
Gripping the strap to his backpack tightly, Jughead closes the space between them, plopping himself in the vacant seat beside the blonde. Light eyes flicker over her face as a grimace stretches across his own. "You told me to meet you here?" he says slowly with just the right amount of concern and curiosity in his tone to make her cheeks flush red.
"Oh!" Betty squeaks, bringing her sleeve up to wipe at her nose in a dainty fashion.
Jughead withholds a wry smile.
Leave it to Betty Cooper to make crying look dainty and practically endearing.
"Is it Archie?" he takes a guess, keeping his words quiet as the silence around them remains deafening all on its own.
"No," Betty shakes her head, surprising him. Her gaze takes particular interest with her fingernails as they push at her cuticles. "No, it's just... nothing. It's stupid."
"And here I thought I was the enigma." He jokes, feeling a small bit of elation in his chest when it pulls forth a small but genuine smile from her.
Betty's eyes flicker to him in a shy manner before she sighs, letting her shoulders slump from their tense position. "Okay," she relents, reaching up to tuck a stray flyaway behind her ear. "I... today's my birthday and everyone just... forgot."
The blush from her cheeks doesn't fade as Jughead's gaze lingers on it, his chest swelling with guilt at her admission. Moving his hand out, he grabs hers. "I—I can't believe I forgot." He tells her honestly, because he can't.
Betty's never missed any of his birthdays—hell, she's never missed any of their friend's birthdays. But he expects better of himself. The lavish meals she never fails to prepare for him on his own birthday are nothing short of life-changing; all dishes he has no desire to learn the pronunciations of.
"I'm sorry, Betty." Jughead apologizes, chewing the inside of his cheek, scorning all the rest of those who'd forgotten. He's supposed to be the abstract one, not the rest of their circle. The others should've remembered and then discreetly reminded him.
Except not really, because Jughead knows there's no one to blame but himself for being a forgetful dunce.
"My family's still in New York." She admits with glossy eyes and a watery chuckle. "I thought at least they'd come home for... but, I know they're busy with Polly. You know, being there for her while she gets situated in her new home and everything."
With a sudden idea, Jughead straightens up and gives a large grin. He holds out his arm, feeling a warmth spread through his chest as she hooks her own through his hesitantly.
"In that case," he begins, gently pulling her to her feet. "Elizabeth Cooper, will you accept an invitation to dinner?"
Betty's smile could cast light on even the darkest of pits. It forces another surge of warmth to run through his body.
Dipping her head playfully, she brings her free hand to rest over the one fit snuggly in the crook of his elbow. "Why, thank you, Forsythe Jones. I'd be delighted to join you."
At the name, Jughead grimaces and narrows his eyes playfully. "Don't make me redact my offer."
Betty giggles, pushing her chest against his arm in an innocent gesture that has the heat in his chest rush up his neck and ears. "Sorry, Jug."
Clearing his throat, Jughead nods and walks her out of the classroom.
... ... ...
They end up getting take-out from Pop's and eating it on the roof of Betty's house.
"Wow, it's been a while since we've been up here." Jughead muses through the chewing of his burger. His eyes wander the now darkened streets of Betty's neighborhood, enjoying the pleasant atmosphere around them.
"Not since sophomore year." Betty agrees, taking a sip of her cherry cola before placing it down. Her half-eaten burger lies at her side, sadly unfinished. "Feels like forever ago..."
"Yeah, no kidding." Jughead snorts, licking his fingers before reaching for her leftovers and digging in. "Now everyone's too busy with other things to even hang out. It's no wonder we all forgot your birthday."
The moment the words leave his lips, he knows he's been too harsh—without even meaning to.
Betty goes rigid beside him before quickly easing back up, nodding ruefully.
"I'm sorry—"
"No, no." she waves his apology off, shaking her head lightly with a soft chuckle. "You're right. We've all been so busy lately... You, me, Archie, Ronnie... I, you have a point."
Finishing his burger, Jughead pushes the wrappers away and leans back against his forearms, glancing at the blonde without outright staring.
"Well, let's see," he drawls, tilting his head as if preparing to say something deep and profound. "You've got Archie, who gives most his time to music, football and Veronica. Then you've got the heiress herself, planning her post-grad soirée. And you, Betty." He finally says, giving a wry curve to his lip as she unknowingly leans forward, fully attentive. "Devoting all your spare time to volunteer at Pop's and filling college applications. Whaddyu have so far? Princeton? Harvard? Yale?"
Betty gives another pretty blush—why in god's name is he so aware of just how pink her cheeks become when bashful?
"Actually, I'm hoping to get into Ithica." Betty says, biting her lip as if he'll outright laugh at the admission. "I've read they have a good program for journalism..."
Jughead's impressed; more so, he's proud of her.
It's no secret Alice Cooper's desire to send Betty to Yale is all that's talked about. But Betty's blossomed into herself with the years passed. Like a sunflower; bright, warm, and standing tall in its full bloom.
When Jughead smiles at her, it's soft—reserved only for her and the few moments they share this type of untouched intimacy between them.
"You'll get in." Jughead tells her confidently, "They'd be idiots to reject you."
Betty's smile sends a pang in his chest... a nice one.
"And you?" Betty questions, bumping his shoulder with her own. "Any special places you've applied to?"
Jughead looks down at his hands, wishing they were filled with something edible. He gives a half-hearted shrug in response. "Nah, not really my thing."
It's not completely untrue.
But Jughead knows the financial debt he'd get himself into attending pricey Universities is not one he wants to experience. He's known low before. Working at Pop's, he's got enough earnings to stay afloat. "I'm not exactly 'University' material."
"But you are." Betty presses a hand to his shoulder, leaving a burning sensation in its wake.
That's... new.
But Betty's unfazed by the close proximity she's initiated as she leans closer to him. Her big blue eyes peer at him with urgency—genuine confliction—, framed by furrowed brows.
"Juggie, you may be self-deprecating about your intelligence, but I've known you since we were four." She tells him with quiet earnest. "You're one of the smartest people I know. You're witty and funny and so, so intelligent. You could get into Ithaca and countless other schools on a scholarship." Her smile softens as she reaches out to push back the ebony lock of hair fallen over his eye. "You're not your dad, Juggie."
Jughead's breath hitches, but he can't explain why. Instead he lowers his gaze and masks his face into one of wry amusement. "I'd need a bike to be."
"Jug..." her sad tone makes his chest twinge.
Sighing deeply, he shrugs, relenting to her—like always. "Maybe I'll send an application..." he gives her.
"You know," Betty lightens her tone, seizing the bone he's thrown her and giving him a playful little smile. "Their colors are blue and gold. It'd be nice to have my Clyde with me."
My Clyde, she'd said.
The look she gives him, followed with her beaming smile, stutters the heart already tightening itself in a painfully pleasant way inside his chest.
It's a look Jughead's seen many times on the face of Betty Cooper. Yet, only has it ever been directed at Archie Andrews, but now... blue doe-eyes blink at him with the same twinkling in them, pouty lips mooned with mirth.
Suddenly, Jughead's hyper aware of the clamminess of his palms and crackling of energy dancing over his skin.
"You're going to be a best-selling author one day, Jug." Betty continues sincerely as her fingers drag down his cheek until they rest on his collarbone. "Promise me I can have your first autograph?"
There's too much and then not enough of whatever it is his mind's trying to grasp at Betty's humbling words. The unwavering belief she has in his abilities—in him. The pure radiance she exudes... it's no less than intoxicating.
Without thinking, or perhaps thinking too much, Jughead finds himself leaning forward, hand reaching up to cup Betty's cheek as his lips ghost themselves over her own in a whisper of a touch.
She tastes like cherry cola and bubblegum lip gloss, and it's his new favorite flavor.
The little hitched noise she makes in the back of her throat sets the deepest pits of his stomach ablaze with a feeling he's never fully experienced, nor cared to, and he presses his lips against her own with more force, swallowing the high-pitched sigh she emits. He's sworn he's never liked kissing—not with the few Ethel have snuck his way or the couple Veronica gave him in a fruitless attempt to seduce the one boy she couldn't have in Riverdale—but with Betty...
Betty's different.
She's sunflowers and flushed cheeks and sunshine tinged with just the smallest clouds of gray. She's gold and he's blue and she's summer and he's winter and they're a helpless storm of magnetism.
And for the first time in his young life, Jughead feels a hunger for something different than food entirely.
When he pulls away and sees the stars in her eyes, he can only move forward again to taste her lips a second time before whispering softly.
"Happy birthday, Betts."