Pigtails

Dry Run

Summary: Rehearsals after school don't equal the drama of everyday life for Betty.

Author's Note: Things have been nuts lately. I have tons of new fan art in my Archies group out on DeviantArt, both in my own gallery, and in the group that I mod, ArchiesComicsFans. I have a new Beggie piece out there, too, take a peek at it when you get the chance.

I keep getting inklings of where I want to go with this, but then they disappear. I scribbled a bit of my femslash piece, White Rose, yesterday, but that's the only action I've gotten from my writing muse. She's a fickle bitch.

Also, FYI: In light of the younger audience I tend to have on DeviantArt, that version of the story will diverge from this chapter, and that version will be cleaner in content. This isn't necessarily a bad thing. Once in a while, I like to get away from smut.

"That wasn't too bad, kids," Miss Grundy called out, "but Betty, I had a hard time hearing you this last time."

"Sorry, Miss Grundy."

"Make sure you project," she reminded her. "But I like the mood so far. Reggie, nice job, but tone it down. Danny has an ego, but I want his vulnerability to show a little more. Remember, he likes Sandy, and he's showing off for her, but in the back of his mind, he doesn't think he's good enough for her."

"That's not my motivation!" he argued, giving his English teacher a put-upon look. "Whenever I watch the movie, Danny's the sh-... er, a hot shot." Miss Grundy rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"Don't just go by the movie. Throw yourself into the part. Remember: Vulnerability."

"You make him sound lame," Reggie complained.

"Danny's a jerk for the whole first half of the movie," Betty chimed in, smirking.

"Sandy's a priss," Reggie countered.

"She's nice," Betty disagreed as she folded her arms beneath her breasts. Reggie's dark eyes dilated and tracked the movement, but he schooled himself to look back into her face. Her blue eyes mocked him.

"She's boring. All she does is mope around and sing a few love songs."

"Can we get back to the scene?" Miss Grundy asked impatiently. "Action." They resumed it, falling back into character quickly. They were roughly a foot and a half apart; Betty was reticent about standing too close, even though the scene would eventually involve them making physical contact.

And possibly a kiss. Her stomach twisted into a knot.

“No, Danny!”

“Sandy, don't worry about it, nobody's watching.”

“Danny, get off me!” she insisted. Betty felt that same tension from the first rehearsal, and her heartbeat was thrown off-kilter when he grabbed her arm. Reggie fought the urge to grin at the sensation of tension in her muscles, but he kept up the leer.

“Come on, Sandy, what's the matter with you? I thought I meant something to you!”

“Meant something to you! You think I'm going to stay here with you in this? This sin wagon? You can take this piece of tin!” Betty exaggerated her "escape" from him. It got the desired effect; she heard chuckles from offstage.

“Sandy, you just can't walk out of a drive-in!” Reggie nailed it again, and this time his voice was full of indignation that his date was making her escape.

"Scene. Good." Miss Grundy leaned back and drank a sip of water.

"Better volume on your voice this time, Betty," Mr. Flutesnoot agreed.

"We're going to work on a little choreography pretty soon for this," Miss Grundy mentioned. "I want to see how you two work off-book. Memorize those lines at home. If you have to, run them together when you're not here. Make an afternoon of it." Betty hid her frown.

"Sure," Reggie shrugged, but he had his own misgivings.

Betty was spending all of her spare time either in the school library or with Jason, which rankled. Blossom puffed up whenever Betty was around, and it would have been comical if she didn't look so taken in by it. Reggie wouldn't admit that he wanted her to pay that kind of attention to him. Jay was always in possessive contact with Betty, with his hand at her back, arm around her, you name it. If Jason had his way, Reggie or anyone else would have to pry him loose from Betty Cooper with a crowbar.

She was distracting him, and it drove Reggie nuts. No matter what he was doing, any mention of Betty, hearing her talk about mundane crap like shoes with Ronnie, watching her file down a broken nail during geometry or chew on the end of her Bic pen cap, all of it made him pause in what he was doing to watch her. More annoying was the way she inevitably caught him staring. He was having a harder time recovering every time it happened.

Nuts. He was going nuts.

Her eyes always held confusion and surprise when she caught him. "What?" she'd invariably ask.

"What?" he's parrot, shrugging blandly, keeping his expression flat.

"What are you looking at?"

"Nothing."

"Ooookaayy."

"Why've I gotta be looking at you? You're sure full of yourself."

"Sheesh." Granted, it annoyed her, and he always ended up with that roll of her eyes that girls only reserved when a guy epically failed, but what could he do? Other than being a smart-ass.

Reggie snapped back to attention, mad at himself when he drifted off again. Betty licked her thumb and turned the page in her script, and he felt a funny little shiver in his gut when he saw her pink tongue dart out like that.

Sheesh...

They ran the scene at the football field, one of Reggie's favorites. He nailed it, but Miss Grundy chided Betty on not giving enough of herself when Sandy confronted Danny.

"You're supposed to be really mad at him. Let him have it. He was sweet during the summer, and now he's a total two-face with his friends."

"I know!"

"Have fun with it. Get mad!" Miss Grundy went back to the play book spread open in front of her as Betty took up her cue again.

"That's cool baby, you know how it is, rockin' and rollin' and what not." Betty's blonde brows drew together; she looked genuinely confused and disgusted.

"Danny?"

"That's my name, don't wear it out." Reggie flipped an imaginary jacket collar and guffawed over his shoulder to the other T-Birds, who elbowed each other behind him. Betty rolled her eyes. Ronnie primped behind Betty and looked amused, vamping as "Rizzo." Miss Grundy made her swear to get a voice coach, since she fit character well, but she still hit frequent sour notes when she sang her solo.

"What's the matter with you?"

"What's the matter with me, baby, what's the matter with you?"

"What happened to the Danny Zuko I met at the beach?" Betty threw out her hands and was the picture of righteous indignation, looking like someone who had been cheated and given false expectations. Reggie smirked.

"Well I do not know. Maybe there's two of us. Why don't you take out a missing person's ad? Or try the yellow pages, I don't know."

"You're a fake and a phony and I wish I never laid eyes on you!" Betty gave him a hard shove that made him let out a barely audible "Oof!" He resumed character and gave his fellow T-Birds high fives and elbows. Betty had the stage movement on point; it was cool to watch her walk away in the guise of being pissed off.

"Scene. That was fun to watch." Miss Grundy looked pleased until she peered down at her rehearsal schedule and checked her watch. "Okay. Musical numbers. Sandra Dee. Betty and Reggie, you can sit down. Nice job." Miss Grundy reached furtively into her purse as Veronica skipped back up onto the stage with her sheet music. She didn't notice her English teacher popping a couple of antacids before Miss Haggly began the opening bars of the song. Offstage, Brigitte sighed, wishing she had bitten the bullet and tried out for Rizzo, but it wouldn't have felt right. She wasn't that feisty, glamorous character; she was the school's fat girl and wallflower. It would never fly.

Veronica took her time flipping through her sheet music until Miss Grundy sighed and reminded her "It's already on the stand, Veronica."

"Sorry. My bad." She hurried over to the stand and waited for her cue from Miss Haggly. The plump, aging teacher cracked her knuckles and found the keys for the opening bars of Rizzo's number, and everyone steeled themselves.

"Look at me, I'm Sandra Deee..." Veronica's chest bounced with every verse, proving she didn't know how to breathe through her diaphragm. But she was getting into it, aping some of the dance moves and facial gestures from Stockard Channing in the movie. Betty shook her head and smiled silently from her seat in the front row of the auditorium. She admired her bestie's charisma, and she had to be supportive. The only consolation any of them took from each rehearsal was that Cheryl settled for the roll of Marty, and it was a perfect fit. Miss Grundy cut her musical number from the play, citing a time constraint for showing the play during school assembly hours.

"Won't go to bed til I'm legally wed, I CAN'T! I'm Sandra Deeeee!"

"Watch that high note! Breathe, Ronnie, breathe!" Miss Grundy coached. She elbowed Flutesnoot subtly and murmured out the corner of her mouth, "Pull her aside and see if she'll rehearse with you on her study hour."

"You must hate me," he muttered back.

"Better you than me." Miss Grundy resumed her encouraging smile without missing a beat. "Better!" she called out. Veronica smiled and cranked up the volume.

Archie winced but smiled at his girlfriend's efforts as he dug in his backpack for his Tic-Tacs. Ronnie was cute when she was being a drama queen. She was possessive, but despite that, she treated him pretty well as a boyfriend, and he made a point to indulge her with his full attention.

Most of the time.

Betty was sitting alone on the edge of the row down in front. He sauntered up and sat beside her without asking permission. Reggie sat sprawled behind her in the second row, watching Ron slaughtering her theme song with smug amusement. He didn't notice Reggie stealing looks at the blonde in front of him periodically, or how he sharply stopped as soon as Archie closed in on her.

Betty's stomach warmed with delight as she caught a familiar whiff of cologne and felt his elbow nudge her. "I could barely hear you from the middle row," he whispered in her ear. His breath tickled her, and she tried to suppress a smile, despite his criticism.

"I'm working on it."

"Step it up. Sandy's shy, but she's not quiet," he reminded her.

"No chatter back there," Miss Grundy hissed at them.

"Sorry," Betty apologized, blushing.

"Yeah, Carrot-Top, keep it down," Reggie added dryly. "Some of us are trying to rehearse."

"Was that what you call what you were doing up there? You sucked," Archie muttered.

" I said, QUIET!" Miss Grundy ordered. Miss Haggly stopped playing her piano and twisted her body around on the bench.

"If you keep interrupting our rehearsal, you'll have to leave," she warned them.

"Keep it down, Reggie. You already rehearsed your part. You don't have to stay for the rest of the practice."

"I don't have anywhere I have to be," Reggie shrugged, giving them a sheepish smile. "I'm good." Flutesnoot nodded, then gestured for Miss Haggly to continue. Veronica pouted at her friends. Archie mouthed "Sorry" from his seat, but it didn't pacify her. Reggie took advantage of his teachers returning their attention to their prospective "Rizzo" and swatted Archie upside the back of the head. Archie turned on him, ready to take umbrage, but Miss Grundy gave them a warning hiss. Reggie smirked in victory, enjoying Betty's low tsk of disgust.

By Ronnie's fifth rendition, their ears begged for mercy and they were all tired of sitting in the cramped seats. Ethel and Jughead each nodded off periodically, jerking awake every time Veronica hit a sour note. Dilton dutifully worked on his trigonometry homework as he waited for the set design meeting while Brigitte mouthed the words to the song wistfully, still wishing it was her.

"That's good enough for today," Miss Grundy assured her when Miss Haggly sat with her fingers poised and raised to pound the keys again. "I think that about covers it. Keep rehearsing at home, dear!"

"Sure," Veronica piped up cheerfully. She trotted down the stairs from the stage, and Archie dutifully stood up and handed over her backpack, helping her into it. "How was I?"

"Great," Archie lied.

"You killed it," Betty assured her, hating to shine her on, but she was her bestie, after all.

"Yeah, you did," Reggie deadpanned, putting the wrong emphasis on his words. Ron narrowed her eyes at him and flipped him off. He snickered.

"I'm starved," Archie piped up.

"Me, too," Veronica chimed in.

"Choklit Shoppe?" Jughead suggested hopefully. "Arch, spot me five bucks?"

"Sheesh."

"Mooch," Reggie accused. "Get a job."

"Being awesome's a full-time job in itself," Jug shrugged. "Let's eat." He grabbed his Jansport bag and toyed with his drumsticks, beating out a tune on the arms of each outer chair as they walked up the ramp and filed out of the auditorium.

Miss Grundy leaned back and stretched in her chair. "I'm so glad that's over."

"Five years, three months and fifteen days til retirement," Flutesnoot soothed.

"That last one almost gave me aneurysm. I don't think I'll last that long."

"At least she's hitting the high notes. Motrin?" With no further reply, she held out her palm. "I didn't say she was hitting them well, did I?"

*

"All right. For the amoeba study, I want you all to team up and grab a partner." Mr. Flutesnoot held up his hands as his class began to chatter and circulate around the room. "No. I'll choose your partners. I don't want best friends working with best friends, or two chatterboxes sitting at the same table. And I don't want to see only one person doing all the work while the other one sits there and files their nails." He looked pointedly at Veronica and Cheryl and cocked his eyebrow, coughing for emphasis.

He went around the room. "Dilton, you can work with Ethel today. Moose, go with Jughead. Midge, you're with Nancy. Chuck, you're with Maria. Frankie, sit with Jason." He heard exasperated muttering and a few low "Yay's!" as he continued to make his selections. "Let's see... Archie, Archie... you're with Cheryl."

"What?" Veronica barged in. "No. No, no, no. No, he isn't."

"Veronica, I've already decided."

"Well, undecide!" Cheryl smirked as she moved her books to Archie's table. Veronica planted her hands on her hips. "Go away!"

"You heard what he said," Cheryl purred, narrowing her green eyes at her competition.

"Go," Flutesnoot insisted, suppressing a sigh. Oy. These sophomores had it in for him, surely. "Veronica, sit with Sabrina." Betty could have sworn that Veronica growled under her breath.

"Shoot me."

"Chill out," Betty encouraged.

"I hate her," Veronica whispered under her breath.

"Sabrina's cool."

"She's a spazz," Veronica hissed. Sabrina pretended she was reading her Game of Thrones novel, but she smirked over the cover, enjoying the drama playing out on the other side of the room. Today, she had her platinum blonde hair tied up in two snug little Princess Leia buns at her temples and long bangs, her striking blue-gray eyes lined in kohl, and wore a Happy Bunny tee that said "I'm cute. You're not. Now, didn't that work out great?" Veronica rolled her eyes. Sabrina was nice enough, but hopelessly weird. She dragged her books to Sabrina's lab table and opened up her notebook while Sabrina went up to the counter up front and took two petri dishes and two slides. The rest of the class gradually lined up behind her. Betty raised her hand in confusion.

"Who am I working with?"

"Reggie's the only one left. I just assumed you'd head his way," Flutesnoot shrugged blandly.

"Me? With Reggie?"

"That's the general idea."

"Wow," Betty muttered under her breath. Reggie materialized behind her and snickered. She stared stonily up into his lazy brown eyes.

"Shake a leg, Cooper. Go get us some slides."

"Get them yourself. And get over yourself," she suggested, making a face.

"Hey, one of us has to do all the work."

"So you can file your nails?" Betty retorted, but her lips quirked.

"They could use some buffing." Betty rolled her eyes.

"You get the slides. I'll get the scope."

"Great. I get the bossy lab partner," Reggie complained. But he admired the view of Betty's back pockets on her way to get the microscope.

They used the eye droppers to squirt the bacteria and fixative onto the slides to create their specimens. The chatter settled to a dull buzz as everyone focused on the assignment with varying levels of enthusiasm.

"I'll give you five bucks if you eat it," Moose challenged Jug.

"Make it ten."

"We get to do the penny lab next year in chemistry," Ethel mentioned casually as Dilton increased the exposure on the microscope.

"We already did it."

"Wait... you did?"

"They let me enroll in chem this year, too."

"Wow," she murmured, awed. Dilton was so smart it was scary. But he was so casual about it.

"It was fun. I made a few gold pennies."

"What did you do with them?"

"Nothing yet. I dunno. I thought about taking them to the amusement park, to those little stands where you make the souvenirs?"

"Cool. You could use those little charms to make jewelry," she suggested.

"Well, I might not," he considered. "But you could, if you wanted."

"Oh. No. I couldn't take those from you."

"Why not? I'm not doing anything else with them. You're crafty," he pointed out. Ethel had begun wearing her scarves that she knitted for herself once the weather had started to cool off. She had one of them, a mottled mohair one in warm tones of rusty gold and brick red, folded up on top of her text so it wouldn't dangle down into the lab solutions or get in the way. Ethel blushed at his words and hid her smile. "You could probably make something nice with them."

"Speaking of crafty, how's the set going?" Dilton beamed.

"Good. Decent. I'm having fun with the car."

"You guys are having an actual car onstage?"

"No. But I'm building the prop. It's pretty big, and we are using scrap metal. Moose is helping me, he's doing pretty good in metal shop this semester." Ethel looked doubtful as she watched Moose shooting rubber bands at the back of Chuck's head. "Moose has his strong points... kind of," Dilton allowed, raising his eyebrows at his best friend's antics.

"Sure he does," Ethel deadpanned. And he wasn't lying; Moose had his moments. He held doors and occasionally let Ethel go ahead of him in line if he couldn't make up his mind what he wanted for lunch. Midge knocked him into shape once they started dating, gentling the giant, and he followed her like a puppy. But once in a while, she'd still see him in the halls, spinning a basketball on his finger or playing quarters with Frankie and Fangs, having burping contests or performing other such feats of genius.

"Come see the set," Dilton mentioned out as he slid the second slide under the lens.

"When?"

"Today. After rehearsal," he suggested as he continued to stare through the lens. It was hard to read him while he was concentrating on the assignment, and seemingly not on her.

"I don't want to get in the way."

"You won't. Take a look." He backed away and turned the scope toward her, adjusting it for her as she peered at the specimen. He made sure the exposure was slightly lower for Ethel, since she had sharper vision than he did and wasn't wearing glasses. Ethel reached absently for her notebook and her hand bumped Dilton's as he passed it to her. "Sorry," he hedged.

"That's all right." She blushed again and started to scribble a sample diagram as part of the lab questions. Dilton started labeling the cell body components and jotted down the scope's exposure. They occasionally bumped elbows as they worked, and Ethel felt a funny, fuzzy warmth being in such close proximity.

He was cute. Cute as a button, something no one else ever noticed about their class genius. Dilton was clean-cut, wiry, and had impish good looks. His ears stuck out a little and he had intelligent brown eyes behind his glasses.

"Have you ever worn contacts?"

"They're not that comfortable. I prefer these." Dilton shrugged up at her. "Why? These too nerdy?"

"No! Of course not. I was, uh, just wondering. That's all."

"I never thought I looked any better without glasses, but that's because I can't tell what I look like without them, anyway. My vision sucks."

"Aw." Ethel chuckled. "They look fine." Dilton smiled and shook his head.

"No big deal, even if they didn't, I guess."

"You have nice eyes," Ethel blurted out. Dilton's eyebrows rose and he self-consciously adjusted his spectacles. He cleared his throat.

Right. I'll just shut up, now. Ethel felt like a doofus. She didn't mean to embarrass him, but the words slipped out. Now he'd know she liked him, and she'd be mortified - as usual - if he told her he didn't feel that way about her. Ethel was tired of striking out. She didn't want to make things "weird" between them, but it was hard.

Dilton felt hard pressed to stay on task, but it was hard to avoid small talk. Ethel was just... Ethel. Easygoing, approachable, and she actually listened to him. He didn't bore her, and she was genuinely interested in his projects and the places he'd been, things he'd seen.

And she did that funny little thing when she scrunched up her face before she laughed, as though she didn't want to let out the sound. Her almond-shaped gray eyes had long, thick lashes, something that no one noticed at first glance because of her other more angular features and slightly prominent front teeth.

She had... pizzazz. In her own funny way, Ethel was good looking. Even if she did tower over him.

"So do you." Ethel did a double take. Dilton hastily scribbled more notes that he didn't need.

"What?"

"Nothing."

*

"Bitch," Veronica muttered as she stared daggers across the room.

"That's right. Finders, keepers," Cheryl murmured under her breath as she sidled up to Archie and leaned in too close while he used the scope.

*

"You could be taking notes," Betty pointed out.

"I will," Reggie promised.

"How about now?"

"You're not the boss of me." He folded his arms across his chest for emphasis. Betty's hand automatically planted itself on her hip.

"Am, too."

"Are not."

"I'm gonna tell."

"You eat boogers."

"You bite farts." Betty's blue eyes gleamed with the challenge of one-upmanship.

"Your slip's showing."

"Your barn door's open."

"That doesn't sound like note taking over there," Mr. Flutesnoot pointed out. His expression was flat, but he was suppressing the urge to laugh.

"We're taking notes," Reggie assured him innocently as he began to scribble on the worksheet handout.

"Uh-huh."

"We are," Betty chimed in.

"I want to see you two at rehearsal today, not in detention."

"Got it."

"Good." Mr. Flutesnoot walked away, but not before he threw "And no more fart-biting" over his shoulder. "I don't know what's wrong with you kids, these days..."

Betty and Reggie sniggered. At the next lab table over, Jughead facepalmed in disgust.

*

"Bets." Betty fumbled with her combination lock, at first not hearing her name from down the hall. "BETTY!"

"Huh? Oh. Hi." She pried open the locker door and returned her geometry text to the top shelf. She wasn't expecting to see Reg for another hour, and her stomach was already knotted with the prospect of another rehearsal with him, being in close contact. He was such an egomaniac, and she felt overshadowed and like a wallflower whenever they had to share the stage. She had to admit, he was talented, but... it sucked, feeling inadequate in comparison, even if she did get the lead part.

"Where you headed?"

"Health class."

"Have a nice nap."

"I know."

"I already took it as an elective last quarter, so I don't need any more."

"Don't rub it in. So, what's going on?"

"Are you... doing anything this weekend?"

"Why?" Her brows drew together and she cocked her head, staring at him in confusion. Reggie suddenly doubted himself, hating the cold knot that formed in his chest, but he pressed on.

"I wanted to run some lines. I want to be off-book by the end of next week." He leaned against the locker beside hers, taking up her space. She instinctively stepped back to better meet his gaze.

"You are. So am I."

"I want to run the lines again outside of rehearsal."

"Okay," Betty shrugged, still slightly baffled.

"You're playing it too safe," Reggie reasoned, shrugging back.

"Wait... what?"

"You are. You're not... I don't know. You're playing it too safe."

"No, I'm not!" Betty snapped. Her cheeks were turning pink, and a little divot appeared between her brows.

"You sound good, but you don't sound like Sandy yet."

"You're full of shit."

"I don't mean anything bad by it! Don't take it so personally, Cooper. I'm just saying..."

"You're always 'just saying' whatever comes out of your big mouth, Mantle. There's nothing wrong with how I've been reading my lines!"

"That's the problem," he told her, throwing out his hands. "You're good. I'm not saying you're not good. But all you're doing is 'reading your lines.'" He made quotes with his fingers. "You're holding back."

"You think I'm holding back. Great. That's great. Thanks."

"I'm trying to be constructive."

"You always do that. You always...do that thing."

"What 'thing'?" he asked defensively, jerking back and looking innocent.

"That thing, where you tear me down."

"I'm not tearing you down. I want to work out a few kinks with you."

"There aren't any kinks. Miss Grundy likes it so far."

"She does. I know. But you could really bring it even harder."

Betty fumed, feeling a mixture of emotions that she fought to keep off of her face. Chief among them was embarrassment, because in some way, he wasn't wrong.

Betty wanted Reggie to be wrong. She always wanted him to be wrong.

She was playing it too safe. That burned her. In the back of her mind, she did picture Olivia Newton-John in her slick ponytail and poodle skirt and cardigan when she read... no, performed her lines. Betty felt disappointed in herself, but more than anything, that the one person whose opinion she hated herself for caring about had reached inside her, taken hold of her doubts about herself, and dragged them up to the surface.

"I'll keep practicing, but I don't think it'll help if we run lines together," she muttered around a burning in her throat. She averted her eyes from his face, difficult with him standing so close.

"How could it not help?" His mouth was set and stubborn, but she ignored it.

"It just won't," she insisted, trying to keep her voice level. Betty slammed her locker door, a clear sign that, once again, he'd gone too far. Reggie flinched.

"We work well together," Reggie pressed. "Bets... Bets! C'mon..."

"Bye." She ignored his sigh behind her, fuming all the way to tenth period, books clutched at her chest. Her heart pounded beneath them and her eyes burned.

"Shit," he hissed under his breath. Well, that went well...

*

Betty ignored Archie and Veronica's conversation as she took her seat. She dug in her purse for a wintergreen Tic-Tac to distract her mouth and to overcome the urge to cry. It frustrated her that she couldn't talk to Ronnie alone and get her tiff with Reggie off her chest. Veronica was more focused on flirting with Archie, anyway, so it was moot. Her day was rolling downhill fast.

At least it was almost over. Betty frowned when she heard her phone buzz in her purse. She reached down inside and opened it without taking it all the way out, and the tiny screen lit up with the message "You have (1) txt msg." The classroom was almost full, and her teacher was busily checking her own voice mail at her desk and getting organized.

It was Jason's number. Betty managed a smile as she opened it.

What are you wearing?

One-track mind. That was Jay. Betty sighed and clicked her phone shut, keeping it on vibrate.

At least someone appreciated her.