Pigtails

Summary: S**t just got real…

Author’s Note: The last chapter was nineteen pages. I wanted to spare people having to scroll through it all. “To be continued” just showed up at the party…

 

Betty’s stomach was a mess of knots and nerves. She took one more glance at herself in the mirror hanging in the foyer. Alice peered out at her from the living room where she worked on a counted cross-stitch pattern. “What time is he coming to pick you up, baby?”

“He said eight.”

“That’s an awfully late start.”

“I know. Sorry. It’s Friday, Mom.”

“I know. That doesn’t make your curfew any later, Betty.” Betty sighed and shrugged, giving her mother a grudging smile.

“Can’t blame a girl for trying.”

“I know, but don’t make a habit of this. It doesn’t hurt a boy to be a little ‘eager’ and show up early, instead of making you pace by the door.”

“I’m not pacing.” Betty decided it wasn’t helping her to hover on her feet. She sat beside her mother on the couch and stared approvingly at the expertly stitched mesh depicting a family of teddy bears in a log cabin. “That’s cute.”

“It’s going to be part of a pillow I’m making for Polly for her birthday.”

“Lucky.”

“Pick out a pattern, and you’ll get one for your birthday,” Alice suggested simply. “You look nice.” Betty settled on a light blue tee shirt dress and high-heeled mule sandals, but she temporarily kicked them off. She let her hair down and braided the two front sections, pulling the little plaits back and securing them behind her head with a little flowered barrette, princess-style. It was fun to dress like a girl for a change, but she didn’t want to overdo it at the risk of her father putting on his best “Papa Bear” glare when Jason showed up. It was bad enough that he was late… Betty’s blue eyes darted to the clock for the fifth time in the past half-hour.

Her mom was right. Shouldn’t he have been more eager?

“You could have just met him,” her mother pointed out.

“It was his idea. He said he wanted to pick me up.”

“It’s not too late to tell him you want to reschedule.”

“I don’t want him to reschedule, Mom.” Betty’s voice was a near-whine. “I was looking forward to tonight.”

“I can see that. I just wondered if you were still spending time with him. It seems like you haven’t been talking about him as often, lately, and I don’t hear you taking that many of his calls.” Betty blushed.

“It’s no big deal. I was just busy with the play.”

“I know. I just wondered if you two were cooling off a little.”

“We’re fine,” Betty said defensively. “Things are going okay.”

“Okay.” Alice peered back down at her cross-stitch. “You could still meet him, though.”

“Then it wouldn’t be like a real date,” Betty argued. “It’s more romantic when a guy actually comes to get you. I like the ritual of getting ready and watching how he looks at me when I open the door.” Betty’s mother rolled her eyes and sighed under her breath.

“When did I give birth to you again? 1940?”

“Mom…” Betty tsked.

“No. That’s fine. Your father and I got you a car so you could be a bit more independent. Speaking of which, did you charge your cell phone?” Betty’s brows drew together before she nodded. “Good. Keep it turned on.”

“Okay. I’m going over to his house to watch a movie, though.”

“If it’s not a movie theater, you can keep it turned on,” Alice reasoned.

“Fine.” Betty paused at the sound of tires crunching and the thrum of music escaping someone’s windows. “That’s him!” She leapt up from the couch and kissed her mother’s cheek. “Love you, Mom!”

“Have a good time! Be safe! DON’T STAY OUT TOO LATE!” Alice called after her. Betty grabbed her little denim purse, dug into it and grabbed a little Scope breath strip. She popped it into her mouth just as she heard Jason pull open the outer screen door; it melted on her tongue just as she opened the inner one, leaving him looking surprised, fist hovering in the air. Then his green eyes swept over her appreciatively, and the lopsided smirk that she loved appeared, making her feel like the fuss had been worth it.

“Bye, Mom! Bye, Dad!” she called over her shoulder as she pulled the door shut after her. The thought didn’t occur to her that the engine and music from his car were still running. He took her hand and pulled her in for a searching, thorough kiss, setting alarms off in her head. Couldn’t he wait til they got into the car? What if her father followed her out the door to remind her of her curfew? She pulled back from him insistently. “C’mon, Jay, let’s just go, okay? What’s that taste in your mouth?” she inquired, licking a hint of the strange, sickeningly sweet flavor from her lips.

“You,” he grinned as he took her hand. Betty smiled at the sight of the green Range Rover, before she remembered that wasn’t the car he usually drove. Just as she started puzzling over it, the front passenger window rolled itself down, and Cedric leaned his head out the window.

“Oooowwwwooooo!” he howled wolfishly, making Betty want to die of embarrassment; he’d wake the whole neighborhood with that nonsense. Then, it occurred to her: What was Cedric doing in the car in the first place? “C’mon, Jay! Let’s blow this popsicle stand!”

“Jason, what’s going on?” Betty tugged his hand, making him pause from descending the short stairs of her porch. He looked back at her and shrugged, grinning.

“Let’s go! There’s plenty of room!”

“I didn’t know I was the last person you were picking up.”

“After everyone got to my house, we decided to go for a snack run. You’re actually the first person we picked up, when you look at it that way,” he teased. His breath was still tickling her nose and he gave her a sloppy kiss on the cheek. Betty cringed.

“I know I said I was coming to your house to hang out with your friends, but…”

“Well, you’ll get to hang out with them a little early! C’mon, Bets.”

“I don’t know…” Cedric was running his mouth from the front seat, not talking to Jason, so that told Betty that the back of the car was likely full. That annoyed her. “Why don’t you guys just go on without me? We’ll hook up later?”

“What?” he said incredulously. “Betty… come on. Just get in. Don’t leave everybody waiting, we’re not gonna have enough time to watch the movies!”

“Well, you will,” she countered. “You’re not the one with a curfew to break.” She didn’t add You sure seemed fine with making me wait for you for an extra half an hour.

“Betty,” he pleaded, his green eyes probing hers. “I miss you. Just come with me tonight. Please?” Jason’s friends turned up the music in the Range Rover, and Betty had a last-minute cringe, realizing that her neighbors were probably enjoying the spectacle.

“Fine,” she told him.

“You’re okay with it?” Jason asked cautiously, even as he tugged her along to the car.

“I’m okay with it. Am I in the back?”

“Nope. Shotgun!” he assured her cheerfully. Cedric obliged her, hopping out of the car and giving her a silly bow with a flourish. Betty climbed up into the front seat and leaned away from the door as Jason shut it for her. The music seemed to assault her amidst the clamor from Jason’s other friends. She heard a wolf whistle behind her and a few chuckles, and she hazarded a glance over her shoulder, giving the other occupants of the car a hesitant smile and wave.

“Damn, Jay,” muttered the tall, olive-skinned one in designer-labeled, artfully ripped jeans and a red polo shirt that briefly reminded her of one Reggie owned. “You lied, man.”

“I didn’t lie, what’d I lie about?”

“You said Betty was cute. You didn’t say she was hot.” Betty blushed and tried to laugh it off, but her stomach knotted from the attention. Cedric dug around in one of the plastic bags in back and dug out a bottle, screwing off the fluted cap with some difficulty. Ever the well-equipped party guest, Betty reached into her purse and pulled out her keychain, handing him the little blue bottle opener attached to the jump ring. Cedric grinned.

“I knew I liked this girl, Jase. I take back everything I ever said about townies,” he informed her.

“So generous,” Betty quipped. That earned her more chuckles. Sure. Laughing with me, not at me… They were pulling out of Betty’s neighborhood and heading for the freeway. Betty rolled down the window a bit to dilute the aroma of so many bodies in the car, particularly all of the colognes that couldn’t help but clash. She noticed a fruity fragrance again, matching the one on Jason’s breath. “What are you eating back there, Lifesavers?”

“Uh-uh. We’re eating later,” Cedric told her. “Want one of these?”

“One of what?”

“Wine cooler?”

Betty froze and stared at Jason. He smiled back guilelessly. “What?”

“Wine coolers?” she demanded. “Did you have any?”

“Just one,” he shrugged. “Have one. They’re good. Get her a strawberry one, Ced.”

“I don’t need one, I’m fine.” Betty’s stomach started to knot up again with tension and she began to sweat. “How did you guys get alcohol?”

“My parents keep a stash of the hard stuff, anyway,” Jason admitted, “but Cedric’s brother, Sid, just came back from UMass for his spring break, and he hooked us up. It’s no big deal, Betty.” He nodded to the bottle that Cedric was trying to hand her, hovering by the arm of her seat. “Have one. Relax.”

“Re-laaaxxx,” one of Jason’s other friends encouraged, making little hypnotizey hands as he tried to lull her. Betty rolled her eyes. “Well, Cedric, open it for her, dude.”

“That might help, huh?” he considered. He used her bottle opener and the cap let go with a fizzy sounding pop. Betty hesitated. “Have one,” he encouraged. “It’ll hit the spot.” That brought on more chuckles from the peanut gallery. Betty glanced at it, then took it reluctantly. She reached back for her keys, ensuring she didn’t lose them before the night was over. Betty dutifully took one sip; it was fruity, but the biting sharpness of the alcohol ruined it for her. She would have preferred a plain root beer. She tucked the bottle into the cup holder and endured accusations of “Lightweight!” as Jason sped down the road. Reassuringly, his hand reached out to stroke her knee, squeezing it. The physical contact was comforting, for a moment, and she rearranged his hand until he was holding hers. That didn’t last. His smirk was sly as he freed his hand again and caressed her leg, fingers drifting under the hem of her dress. Betty’s eyes widened and she gripped his hand more aggressively, stopping its climb. Don’t, she mouthed. Jason chuckled and put his hand back on the steering wheel. Betty felt self-conscious in the car full of goofy boys; Jason putting a move on her was one thing, but not in front of his friends. That was a deal breaker…

They turned right off of the freeway, then left at the green exit sign, and it wasn’t long before they reached the wealthy-looking, tree-lined neighborhoods full of two-story homes with immaculate lawns that characterized Pembroke. They passed by the academy, and Betty’s breath caught at the size and grandeur of the campus; it looked like a college. She felt a twinge of loyalty for her own school, and Betty felt she received just as valuable and diverse an education in a public setting, and she’d certainly made lifelong friends.

Certainly not these friends, she considered, as she listened to Jason’s friends making a racket in the back of the Rover. They turned the corner and drove up to a tall, wrought iron gate. Jason wound down the window and opened the little intercom box. “We’re back,” he announced.”

“Welcome back, Jason,” a deferential voice replied, and a small red light flickered on the box. A low buzzer sounded as the gate retracted, opening up for them to enter. As they drove up, the headlights picked out expertly pruned topiaries and lawn statues; the circular driveway featured a small koi pond in its center, merely hinting at the marvel of the house itself.

Betty was speechless as she climbed out of the car. The house rivaled Veronica’s in its size and shallow brick steps lead to the front door, which featured a large, lion-shaped door knocker. The Colonial-style mansion was imposing, more so when the automatic flood lights came on. Betty silently wondered when the carriage would turn into a pumpkin. Jason laid his palm against her lower back and gently urged her inside when his butler opened the door.

Betty heard music emanating from the living room as they entered the foyer, and she wondered how many people were already there. She had another, belated fleeting thoughts…

“Cheryl! Turn that crap off! We’re watching a movie,” Jason scolded as they rounded the corner. Cheryl was holding court already, wearing a skimpy red sundress with spaghetti straps. Her girlfriends lounged indolently on the expensive leather furniture, legs draped over sofa arms or propped on ottomans, looking smug as a murder of crows when Betty came inside. Cheryl’s green eyes raked over her balefully.

“Make yourself at home,” she muttered.

“Thanks.” Betty took up another ottoman close to the door and sat gingerly on the edge, wondering how she ended up there. It was her own fault; of course his sister was likely to be there, she lived there, too, didn’t she? Betty naturally assumed Cheryl would end up out on a date. She certainly had enough prospects. Cheryl didn’t make any effort to turn off her music. Jason and his entourage scuffled their way into the kitchen with the bags of snacks, and Betty heard cupboards slamming and the refrigerator being yanked open. Ice cubes clinked into the glasses and Betty hoped that meant soda, this time.

Cedric came back first, holding out her abandoned wine cooler. “Here, you forgot this!”

“Thanks,” Betty offered with little enthusiasm. Cheryl snorted.

“You drink? I thought you were a goody-goody.”

“I usually don’t, and I guess I am.” Her eyes searched the room. “Do you have a coaster?”

“Why? Just finish it,” Cheryl scoffed.

“I don’t really want it,” Betty admitted. Cheryl frowned, then approached her, holding out her hand.

“Here. I’ll take it, then. You’re crazy, girl. Don’t waste good alcohol.” Cheryl took a long pull from Betty’s drink and asked Cedric accusingly, “Is this the last one?”

“It will be in a minute,” he teased.

“Jerks. You weren’t even gonna share.”

“Buy your own!”

“Duh. I can’t.”

“Bet you wish Jay was the older brother instead of your twin,” he countered.

“Hell, no. He’s bad enough, now.” Betty suppressed a smile, since she actually was the youngest in her family, but Chick and Polly were much older, and she hadn’t suffered much heckling growing up. Cheryl turned her attention back to Betty. “If you don’t drink, why did you even come?”

“I didn’t know everyone would be drinking.”

“Jason told you it was a party, right? It should have been implied.” Cheryl’s friends watched the exchange smugly. Her friend Lacey spoke up.

“I like your dress.”

“Thanks.”

“I gave one like that to Goodwill last week,” Cheryl told her nastily.

“That’s nice. Good for you.” Betty simply smiled and shrugged. Cheryl was annoyed that she couldn’t get a rise out of the blonde, and she left the living room in search for her brother. Betty heard her nagging him, “My friends were here first! You guys use the basement!” Basement? Was it anything like the rest of the house?

“Get out of here, Cher. I had dibs on the living room. I told you I was having friends over for movies tonight, so you shouldn’t have even taken it. Get lost. Take them with you.”

“Easy, bro! There’s plenty of room,” Cedric reminded him gamely. Betty rolled her eyes and sighed.

“Where’s the rest room?” Betty inquired. Lacey smiled and gestured for Betty to follow her.

“This way.”

“Thanks. Thought I might get lost.” Lacey snickered.

“I know, right? My house isn’t this big.” Betty almost chimed in, until she said “But my dad’s planning to add on a new wing soon.” She nodded to the bathroom, which was enormous. Everything was marble and chrome, with a walk-in shower with three rows of wall jets, three-way vanity mirrors, and speakers built into the walls. “It’s all yours.”

“Thanks.”

“Sure. Don’t get lost.”

“Right.” She watched the slim brunette depart and was quick to dig out her phone. She locked the door behind her and ran through her contact book, and she stabbed Veronica’s name with her fingertip. She picked it up on the fourth ring.

Veronica looked up from her pedicure, surprised to see Betty’s number ID. She cradled the phone against her cheek while she painted her pinky toe. “What’s going on, Betty? Where are you?”

“I’m at Jason’s,” Betty blurted in a loud whisper.

“What? Betty, why?”

“I decided to take him up on his invite to hang out with him, but… I wasn’t expecting this.”

“What’s wrong, sweetie?”

“They’re drinking.” Veronica paused to digest it.

“Betty… you stupid, silly girl. I warned you.”

“No. You didn’t, Ron. This wasn’t part of what you told me at all.”

“I told you not to trust Jason.”

“That’s not constructive right now.”

“It should have been yesterday, Betty. I’m sorry you’re not having a good time.”

“Thanks,” Betty said sourly. “Look… are you busy? Can you come and get me in a little bit?”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t drive yourself?” Veronica was aghast. “Betty, seriously?”

“Can’t you?”

“No! I can’t. I’m getting ready to go with my parents to a play. We’re meeting some of his business associates there, they’re bringing along their family. I can’t break away from it, Betty.” Betty bit her lip.

“Not at all?”

“Betty, you should have driven yourself,” Veronica reminded her.

“Ronnie… SO not helping right now. Whatever. Good night.”

“Betty-“ Veronica scowled down at the dead phone and growled in annoyance. “What’s wrong with that girl?” Veronica hastily finished her last toe and capped the bottle of red polish, deciding that she might have to resort to plan B. She went through her contact list and scrolled down to ‘R.’ Veronica’s Persian cat, Beatrice, and Minari both hopped up onto the bed, looking for attention. She stroked Beatrice’s thick mat of fur while the slender Siamese kneaded her thigh with her front paws. It took Reggie a while to pick up the line, which made Veronica anxious. She had a nervous tingle running through her belly.

Veronica’s biggest beef wasn’t with Jason; it was with his awful friends. Betty was a sweet girl and didn’t deserve to deal with that nonsense. Veronica lost herself in thought for a moment, remembering back to a time when she found Jason Blossom appealing, when he seemed to have everything that she wanted: looks, charm, wealth, and smooth talk, all neatly bundled up into a talented athlete. He shattered her illusion and took off his mask.

She was almost startled by the sound of Reggie’s baritone.

“Hey, Ron. What’s up?”

“I need you to do something for me.”

“Okay. I’m doing fine, Ron, thanks for asking,” he deadpanned.

“Warm up your car. You’re going to Pembroke.”

“And I’m making this trip, why? I’ve got plans.”

“What? A hot date?”

“With my Xbox.”

“Cancel it. You can buy it dinner next time. You need to pick up Betty.” That made him choke just as he was taking a furtive swig out of the milk carton.

“Betty? Where is she?”

“At Jason’s. She’s not happy.”

“Not happy?” Reggie saw red. “Why? What happened?”

“His friends happened. He invited Betty to his house for a party, but he didn’t tell her there would be drinking. That’s not Betty’s scene, you know that.”

“I know. I’ve always known that about Bets. Why the heck did she agree to it?” Reggie fumed, picturing her trapped in a house full of Jason’s obnoxious friends. “Why doesn’t she just go home?”

“He picked her up.” Reggie’s fist dropped to the kitchen counter.

“Shit,” he hissed. “Of course he did.” Sounds like my plan for tonight just changed. Why, Betty? What the hell? “What’s his address?” He put the milk back into the fridge and the Oreos back in the cupboard. Reggie was already carrying his cell with him upstairs, looking for his sneakers.

“He lives in Pembroke. Go right from the freeway and follow the signs to go to the academy. Then go up another six blocks. He’s on Blossom Circle.”

“He has a street named after him?” Reggie snarked. “Geez…”

“What’s wrong with that?” Veronica shrugged. “It’s a big property.”

“Sure it is. Fine. Blossom Circle. How long ago did she call?”

“Ten minutes ago. It sounded like she had just gotten there, but still…”

“Did she sound upset?” Reggie demanded.

“She sounded… I don’t know, Reg. Just a little fretful. Definitely annoyed, but she didn’t seem comfortable. You know how easygoing Betty is, and she’s a good judge of character. If she says someone’s giving her a bad vibe, then they’ve gotta be an asshole.” She was right. There was no question.

“I’ll give you a call from the road,” Reggie told her. “I have to put gas in my tank.”

“Reggie, thank you for doing this. I owe you.”

“Don’t worry about it, Ronnie.”

“Bye.”

“Later.” Reggie made record time in rummaging through the clutter in his room to find his shoes and keys. He crammed his phone into his pocket and shouted over his shoulder that he would be back soon when his mother tried to stop him. The thought of Betty being “uncomfortable” made him risk the speed limit once his tank was full. Ugly prickles ran down his nape when he imagined Betty’s call to Ron.

Blossom was such a tool…

 

*

The basement was as grand as the rest of the house. And it was big, but to Betty, it was still far too crowded.

The room boasted a couple of recliners and a huge sectional sofa and loveseat, so there were plenty of places to sit down. Jason and his friends settled themselves in front of the widescreen plasma set with bags and bowls laden with chips, pretzels and mixed nuts, and unfortunately, more alcohol. Cedric’s brother Sid brought over a cooler and had several packs of beer on ice. To Betty’s dismay, the wine cooler she’d tasted wasn’t the last one. Most of them stayed upstairs in Cheryl’s possession. “Guess you’re just missing out,” she told Betty smugly before Jason led her downstairs.

Jason scanned through Netflix with his remote. “What are we watching?” Betty asked.

“Might go with Hangover 2.” Betty cringed and suppressed a quiet little “Ew.”

“We could watch the Notebook,” Sid teased. “It’s nice and romantic!” Jason’s friends laughed it up and elbowed Jason where he sat. One of his friends tickled Betty for emphasis. She swatted his hand away and tried to laugh it off, but it was creepy. Betty tried to stay close to Jason without seeming “clingy,” but he was constantly up from his seat, horsing around with his friends. At one point, two of his friends tackled him, resulting in an impromptu grapple that resulted in knocking over a large vase of silk flowers. Betty was horrified when it ended up in pieces, but none of the boys seemed overly concerned.

“Won’t your mom be mad?” Betty pointed out.

“She won’t notice. She hardly comes down here,” Jason shrugged. “Chill, Bets. Take it easy. Don’t worry your pretty head.” He reached into the cooler and tried to hand her a beer.

“No. I’m fine.”

“Aw, Betty, go ahead and have one. Don’t make me drink alone,” he cajoled.

“Um, you’re not.”

“Have a drink with me.” Jason plopped himself back beside her, making the couch cushion sink beneath her as he swallowed up all of her personal space. “Just one?”

“I’m just not into it. It’s no big deal, Jay.”

“You don’t drink?” one of Jason’s friends piped up. He was wearing a Pembroke Academy football jersey and working on a second beer. “What do you townies do for fun, then?” Betty arched one brow.

“Lots of things. We’re not that deprived.” Jason snickered and leaned over, pretending to bite her shoulder.

“Could’ve fooled me.” He helped himself to a handful of pretzels. “Have you always lived in that little neighborhood?”

“All my life.”

“Wow.” Half a beat later, “I’m sorry.”

“What?” Betty looked at him strangely. Did he just diss her house?

“Naw, I’m just messing with you, lady!” he told her, but his eyes suggested otherwise. “It’s cute where you live!” Cute? Was he kidding?

“I’ve waited all my life for that kind of praise. I’m feeling blessed right now, guys,” Betty insisted, giving them her cheesiest smile. He nodded and elbowed his neighbor.

“You should,” he agreed, and Betty wanted to gag.

“He’s just messing with you,” Jason repeated, patting her hand. “It’s no big deal. They’re always like that until they get to know you.”

“That’s comforting.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind. Go ahead and turn on the movie.”

“Hangover 2 it is.” Betty tried not to shudder. Gross-out humor wasn’t her thing. Horror or action movies didn’t bother her as much, depending on whether or not it was a suspenseful movie, or gore for gore’s sake with a too-realistic psychopath at its center.

“Or we could watch some Disney!” Cedric guffawed. He tapped beer cans with his schoolmate. “Jason can cover your eyes during the part where the hunter shoots Bambi’s mom!”

“Dude, you just gave her a spoiler!”

Bastards… Betty was getting bored and more frustrated as the opening credits began. Sid hit the lights, making the screen loom larger than life. Betty felt like she could see the characters’ pores. Jason turned up the speakers on his Dolby system, and it sounded great, but that still didn’t make it a movie she would have chosen for herself. She tried to relax and enjoy herself. Jason drank his beer, and the thought crossed her mind: How was she supposed to get home?

“Are you going to be okay to drive me later?” Betty whispered into his ear.

“I guess. Why?” Was he kidding? “Just watch the movie, Bets. You planning on bailing already?”

“That’s not what I meant,” she argued. “You’re drinking beer.”

“Looks that way.” He took another slug. “And?”

“And you can’t keep drinking if you’re the one who brought me here.”

“It’s okay. We’ve got a big house. You can stay in one of the guest rooms. Or you can camp out with Cheryl and her friends.” Cold dread and disbelief washed over her.

“Are you serious? Jason… your sister hates me, unless it’s escaped your notice.”

“Nah. It’s no big deal. She won’t mess with you while I’m here.” He draped his arm behind her and massaged her neck. “It’s Friday night, anyway. Do your parents expect you home?”

“They expect me home every night, Jay. I’m seventeen.”

“Power down over there, Blondie. We’re trying to hear,” Cedric told her, giving her a theatrical shush. Betty’s cheeks flamed. She longed to slap him. Jason’s fingers traveled from her neck to her shoulder as he urged her to lean into him. His fingertip grazed her upper arm, dangerously close to the swell of her breast. Betty felt self-conscious, knowing they were subject to his friends’ scrutiny.

“Betty, just enjoy yourself. C’mon. We just got here, and you’re already talking about leaving? If you were trying to hurt my feelings as the host, you’re doing a great job,” he cajoled with a smile. He might as well have patted her on the head and said There, there.

“No one called you a bad host.”

“Down in front!” Cedric cried out, flinging a pretzel at the couple. Betty shook Jason’s grip off of her and headed for the basement steps.

“Bets! Come back! C’mon, Betty,” he hissed. He got up from the couch with some difficulty, missing the feel of her soft warmth against him. Betty was in the kitchen, looking pissed.

“This isn’t going to work,” she explained to him. “Look, your sister doesn’t like me. I didn’t exactly get a warm reception from her earlier, and I doubt your parents would want their son’s girlfriend sleeping over, guest room or not.” Jason was shaking his head, gently gripping her shoulders. “It’s not a good plan. This wasn’t even part of the plan.”

“Plan, schman,” Jason joked. “Betty. You’re tripping over nothing, baby. As far as your parents know, or my parents know, you’re Cheryl’s friend coming to a sleepover.”

“I didn’t pack a bag. My mom will be wondering why, especially if I left the house with you.”

“Be creative,” he urged her. He was still smiling, but his veneer was cracking and his voice sounded impatient. “Come back downstairs. Don’t embarrass me in front of my friends, Betty. They’re gonna wonder why you’re up here.”

“They’re smart enough to figure out, Jason. Give them some credit. So far they’re having more fun at my expense than they are watching the movie.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Did you bring me along as entertainment?”

“Bets… that’s bullshit.” Jason released her and folded his arms across his chest. Betty hated the tension between them, and she longed to smooth it over, but she wasn’t getting her point across. “I wanted you to see my house and spend some time with me, but instead you’re getting all antsy over nothing. I can get you home tonight. All I had was a beer.”

“And a wine cooler,” she reminded him.

“Are you keeping count now?”

“Jason… no. I’m not keeping count. But I can’t go home in your car if you’ve been drinking.”

“I already told you, Betty. Solve that problem by not going home tonight. Just stay over.” His hands snared her waist and pulled her against him. The hint of beer fumes on his breath was a turn off when he kissed her. She broke the contact and gently pushed against his chest.

“Not an option.”

 

*

Reggie found the green sign for the turnoff and navigated down the wide street, impressed that Pembroke had so many four-lane roads. Still, Reggie preferred Riverdale and its small town charm, and he’d lived there all his life. You could walk the streets there at night and feel safe, his family knew everyone, and it was fun being a big fish in a small pond. What else could he ask for?

Betty, his consciousness told him.

There was no question of if Reggie would end up in his car, driving down these streets; it was a matter of how fast. As soon as he heard “Betty” and “trapped” in the same sentence, he wanted to kill Blossom. Did he really not understand what he had with Betty? Did the guy have a clue that she was too good for him? Reggie huffed a laugh. Of course he did. Reggie racked his brain, wondering why she agreed to let him take her to his house. Betty was grown, granted, but she was a smart girl, the kind that carried pepper spray in her purse along with a rape whistle. She didn’t put herself in vulnerable positions. How did he talk her into it? Reggie’s stomach twisted up into nervous knots.

What if Ron jumped the gun, and Betty was fine where she was? Maybe the party was underway, and Betty was just having her first jello shot. What would happen if he was wrong? How much of a dumbass would he be then? He was already on unsteady footing with her as it was, but Betty could end up hating him. He couldn’t just come storming in through the front door like a pissed off big brother, could he?

Why was he asking himself these questions?

*

“Betty, cut it out, stop being such a priss!”

“I’m not a priss! Knock it off!”

“You don’t mind shaking your tail in front of Mantle and acting all sexy with him, but as soon as you’re with me, you’re all buttoned up and a buzzkill. What’s up with that?”

“Are you still talking about the play?”

 

“Y’know what? No. I’m not just talking about the damned play.” Jason leaned in close to her and pointed toward the basement door. “What do you think my friends think right now, watching you being uptight and acting like you’re too good for them?”

“Excuse me?” Whatchutalkin’bout, Jason? her brain screamed at her. “Like I’m too good for them? First of all, whose idea was it to even have me meet them in the first place? If you wanted to spend time with me, and if you wanted me to loosen up, you should have set up a night when we could be alone, Jason. Your friends have been acting like I’m not good enough for them since I got in the car. Jason, I’m not comfortable. Your idea about me staying over is ridiculous, and it’s never gonna happen. Sorry, pal.”

“Fine. You don’t want to stay over? No big deal. You don’t want me to drive you home because I had too many? That’s cool.” He reached for her tiny purse on the counter, handed it to her, and casually wrapped his arm around her shoulders again, but he didn’t lead her back toward the basement. Jason kept an insistent, but not harsh grip on her as he walked her back to the front of the house. Cheryl glanced at them from the living room, looking tipsy and confused.

“Where are you two going?” she called out.

“I’m not going anywhere, Cheryl. Play your music. Drink up.” They kept walking, and Betty almost couldn’t keep up with him.

“What do you mean, you’re not going anywhere? I am?” Betty demanded.

“Yup. Guess you’re not the one that I want, Sandy. Those don’t look like walking shoes, either. Too bad.” Jason jerked open the front door and gave her a gentle shove. “G’night.”

“What-“ SLAM!

*

 

Veronica was right. Blossom Circle stretched on what seemed like forever, and for his troubles, Reggie noticed a huge iron gate shutting him out. He cut off his engine and swore under his breath. Great. Now what?

Reggie noticed an intercom with a little security sensor on it, armed if the little green light was anything to go by. He pushed the talk button and barked into it, “Hello?”

“Good evening, sir,” was the staticky reply. “How may I help you?”

“I’m here to see Jason.”

“Are you one of Master Blossom’s classmates?”

“Uh… yeah.”

“Which school?”

“Uh, Riverdale.”

“You sound uncertain of that.” Reggie fumed.

“Yeah, well… we go to school together. I go to school with Cheryl, too,” Reggie threw in for good measure.

“That much can be implied, sir,” the intercom assured him. Reggie growled, no longer amused.

“Look, can you just let me… Bets? BETTY? BETTY!” Reggie heard a low slam and saw a slim figure wearing a scrap of light blue hurrying around the circular driveway toward the gate.

“Who?”

“Never mind. Scratch that.”

“Good night, young man,” the voice bade him, ensuring Reggie didn’t overstay his questionable welcome. Betty hurried toward him as the outdoor flood lights came on, and she was running at a surprisingly good clip for someone in heels. Then it hit him: Why the hell was she running?

Reggie was too relieved to focus on that yet. “Betty! Let me in!”

“Reggie! Oh, God! I’m so glad you’re here! I’m coming out!” she informed him. From the inside, she pushed a button that made the gate retract and slide open for her. Once the bars no longer separated him, Betty ran for him, and he enveloped her, not hesitating for an instant.

“It’s okay, Bets. Don’t worry, I’m here. It’s okay, baby,” he told her, over and over, and he realized with shock and growing anger that she was crying. Betty clung to him for dear life. “Betty, what happened?”

“Just take me home, please, Reggie. Get me away from here.”

“I will. It’s all right, baby. Get in.”

“I didn’t know what to do.”

“Ronnie told me you were here.”

“I’m so glad to see you,” she whimpered into his neck. Reggie caressed her hair soothingly, breathing in its fragrance, still feeling so relieved that he’d made it at just the right time.

“Let’s get in the car, Betty. Okay? Take it easy.” He led her to the passenger side and opened it, and she sank down to the seat, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. She reached up and pinched the bridge of her nose, having a hard time meeting Reggie’s eyes yet.

“I’m so mad at myself right now,” she sobbed. “He’s such a jerk. He’s a big phony.” Betty miserably wiped her teary cheek against her sleeve; Reggie gently reached up and cleaned more of the moisture away with the edge of his thumb. He smoothed back a tendril of blonde hair that trying to cling to the corner of her mouth, and one of her hands was now cradled in his warm grip.

“You knew that.”

“No. He was never like that to me until now,” Betty insisted. “It’s like he was wearing a mask this whole time, Reggie. He humiliated me, and his friends were awful! All of them! I just felt like I was being paraded around on display, like ‘Look, this is my girlfriend, she’s POOR!’ They all treated me like trash. I thought he was different.”

“You’re too good for him.”

“No,” she argued. “Don’t say that. That’s how he put it, that I thought I was too good for him and his friends. I’m not like that, Reggie.”

“Of course not.”

“I just… I’m so mad. I knew better than to come here. Something inside me screamed that it was a bad idea, and I did it anyway. It’s like I wanted to prove something to him.”

“What did you want to prove, Betty?”

“That… that I wasn’t running around on him. He said I was playing around with you on the side, and…” Betty paused and wept, covering her face, but Reggie pulled her hands down, tenderly stroking her wrists. His fingertips traced the delicate veins, making her quiver. Her face was blotchy and her blue eyes were bloodshot and watery.

She was still beautiful enough to make his breath catch. “I didn’t want him to think that of me,” she told him. “But it was so hard, Reggie… because, I can’t help what I feel when I’m with you. So, I guess that makes me a horrible girlfriend, doesn’t it?” Reggie nodded and cracked a little smile.

“Not anymore, it doesn’t. Don’t return his calls.” Betty shook her head and sniffled. “I mean it, Betty. What happened? He threw you out?”

“He just shoved me out the front door. He wasn’t rough about it, but still… it was humiliating. He begged me to come, only to throw me out.”

“He’s an asshat.” He kissed her hand and reached up to the wipe the rest of the tears from her cool cheek. “Let’s bail.” Betty leaned back and swung her feet inside; Reggie handed her the seatbelt and gestured for her to lean in from the door frame so he could close it. Just as he climbed in himself, the gate slid shut, heralding the end of a bad night.

“Ronnie called you?”

“She sounded worried.”

“I thought she was going to blow me off.”

“She’s your best friend. Give her some credit.” They headed around the block and began looking for entrance signs to the freeway. “I was worried about you, when she told me.”

“Sorry.”

“Betty…” Reggie sighed, feeling at a loss. “Look, you know I like you, right? And I didn’t start going after you after you started dating Jason on purpose. Things just happened, and… Betty, you just happened. I mean, it seemed like you liked Archie forever, and I figured that maybe, once he was dating Veronica, you might be ready to pay attention to someone else. I didn’t want to push the issue if Archie still had a chance with you, and sometimes, it was hard to tell.” Betty had been staring out the passenger window until he said the name “Archie.” She turned and pinned him with those sad, confused eyes.

“You thought I still wanted to be with Archie?”

“There were times where it seemed like it. I kept getting these signals, and-“

“Stop.”

“What?”

“Just stop the car.”

He pulled over into the bike lane and put the car in park. “Betty, what- mmmmmppphhh…” Quicker than Reggie could blink, Betty was out of her seatbelt and wrapping her hand around his nape, tugging his face down to hers. Betty captured his mouth and kissed him into submission; he didn’t fight it for a second. Her mouth was so soft, and she moaned into his, tearing down his restraint. His fingers found their way into her hair again, scraping it back from her face, then tugging on it to bare her neck. He tasted her skin, nipping the smooth, graceful column with firm lips, and her eyes closed in pleasure.

Alone with him, in the snug confines of Reggie’s car, Betty felt safer than she had with Jason and an entire room of his friends. His firm body was a haven for her when she’d felt lost. She never wanted to let him go.

“What signals are you getting from me now?” she murmured.

“No. Don’t. No games.” Reggie pulled back, with some difficulty, and his heart was pounding. His palm cradled her cheek, and Betty’s face… God, her face… glowed with passion, hiding nothing. “No more signals. Tell me. Tell me how you feel about me.”

“I can’t even begin.”

“Try,” he pleaded, and for the only time in all the years that she knew him, Reggie Mantle looked unsure. His lips were tight and she could feel his tension.

“Well, the thing is, Reg, that’s kind of hard to explain…”

“Just explain it.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you. Every time I try to fight it… Reggie, I don’t want to fight it anymore. I want to be with you.” She stroked the back of his hand, feathering a little kiss over his thumb.

“Then don’t fight it,” he suggested gruffly. His voice was a soothing husk, and his dark eyes dilated as he stared into hers. “Wanting you and not having you has been driving me crazy, Betty.”

“Are we going out?”

“Yeah. We’re going out.”

“Just so we’re clear.”

“Shut up.” Her expression was indignant and confused until he closed the narrow gap between them. She sighed into his mouth, and time lost its meaning. She didn’t know how long they sat parked, their skin littered with patches of flashing light from passing cars. Nothing mattered but his touch and his heat; nothing sounded sweeter than the sound of her name murmured into her neck.

*

Jason spent the rest of the night vacillating between deflated anger and nagging guilt after showing Betty the door. Jason hadn’t planned on Betty becoming his ex-girlfriend by the end of the night, and he wasn’t used to his plans falling through. What was wrong with her?

What’s wrong with you? a voice inside him prodded. You just let her go like that? She had picked you.

Had she? Jason argued back. He drowned out the voice with a second beer. The movies continued through the night until every guy was asleep in front of the screen. The basement was a sea of empty snack bags, bottles and cans. Jason’s claim that his mother would never notice the vase was shallow and ill-conceived; she took it out of his allowance and grounded him for a week for throwing such a risky party. Since Cheryl participated and encouraged her friends to drink, she ended up grounded, too. Jason took additional punishment in listening to his sister whine.

Unfriending Betty on his Facebook didn’t make the sky fall or destroy his world. Still, Jason Blossom felt a little emptier once he clicked that button. There would always be other girls – many, many other girls – but they wouldn’t be Betty.

 

*

The ride back to Riverdale was pensive. They found excuses to touch each other; Reggie’s left hand stayed on the wheel and the other rested in her soft grip. He enjoyed playing with her fingers and stroking her pulse with his thumb.

“I thought I was going to have to walk home.”

“It was risky not taking your car.”

“It shouldn’t have been. It was a date,” she reasoned.

“I’ve never made a girl walk home from a date,” he murmured. “Even if you and I had a knock-down, drag-out throwdown, Bets, I would have still drove you home and saw you to your doorstep.”

“That sounds like a fun Friday night,” she deadpanned. He freed his hand from hers and reached out to tweak one of her braids. “Ow! Jerk!” He smirked back at her. Time seemed to flow backward ten years, just for a moment.

“I mean it, though, Bets. He sent you out in the dark, far from home. I don’t want to think about what would have happened if Ronnie hadn’t called me.”

“Okay, big brother.”

“Don’t take it that far.”

“Okay, okay.” He kept stealing glances at her.

“Do you need to go right home?”

“I guess not. Why?”

“I dunno. Wanna stop at Pop’s?” Betty shrugged and sighed. “Or somewhere else? I can take you wherever, Betty. Unless you just want to head home?” Betty wavered a moment.

“Maybe Pop’s, for just a little while.”

“Okay.” They took the Main Street turnoff and headed straight downtown. Reggie parked in the lot behind the shop and made Betty pause before she unbuckled. “Wait.”

“Wait? Why?”

“Just a minute.” He got out and shut the driver’s side door, crossing in front of the car to her side. Reggie opened the passenger side and extended his hand. “Okay,” he beckoned. His smile was sly. Betty let him help her from the car, accepting his ulterior motive as he pulled her against him. His arms wound around her waist as he tasted her again. Betty’s fingers curled themselves in his hair’s dark waves; she breathed him in, his heat, the scent of his cologne, his low rumble of contentment, and the stroke of his hands along her back. Her pulse sped up and their kisses grew hotter, more frantic. Betty’s knees almost buckled, and she felt herself fall back against his car. He followed her, pressing himself closer, more deeply into her yielding body. She intoxicated him. Reason left her, even with the faint breeze lifting the back of her hair and tickling her skin. She heard the buzz of a fluorescent flood light flickering on in the darkness, and Betty reminded herself – somehow – that they were still outside, in a public place. Her hands eased between them and pushed against his chest, but he held her hand there, encouraging her to stroke the smooth muscle and feel his quickening heartbeat. Reggie let her up for breath, briefly. He leaned his forehead against hers for a moment. “Reggie,” she murmured. She’d grown up beside him, watched him excel, get into trouble, and break a winding trail of hearts, yet, she never really saw him until now. His features and tanned skin cast themselves in an elegant mask beneath the street lamps, etching themselves into her consciousness, newly defined. This was what the other half of her heart looked like. His lips traced the curve of her cheek, trailing their way back to her mouth, and when her hand drifted up to rest against his face, it shook.

The journey had seemed endless, but Betty knew she’d found her way to where she belonged. With difficulty, they disengaged, walking arm in arm into the restaurant. It was just late enough that the crowd had dwindled to a few patrons sobering up after a bender with starchy fries. Betty and Reggie nodded to Pop where he worked behind his counter, drying some glasses with a towel.

“Just you two?”

“Yup,” Reggie confirmed, nodding toward the circular booth in the back, knowing Pop wouldn’t argue the point of wanting to save it for a larger party at that hour. They eased into it, sliding toward the center of the cool leather-upholstered bench. They sat in quiet repose, relaxing against each other while they shared a menu. His fingers toyed with the end of one of her little braids.

“I’ll take your order in a sec,” Pop promised.

“That’s fine,” Betty agreed. He winked and smiled at them both, then glanced at them again, noticing the change. Betty’s eyes dropped back down to the menu. Reggie squeezed her shoulder.

“What’s up?”

“Everything feels different.”

“Different how?”

“Being with you like this… it’s nice.”

“I know.” Reggie kissed her temple.

“Reggie? When did you start liking me?”

“Liking you? Like, like you, like you?”

“Yeah. Liking me, liking me.” He gave her a searching look, then hedged.

“Wellllll… does middle school count?”

“Are you kidding me? I thought we hated each other in middle school.”

“We did.”

“But you liked me.”

“You were cute.”

“So why did you give me such a hard time? Creep!” She slapped his knee lightly, and he winced, but Reggie smiled at her, effectively wearing her down.

“You were really cute when you were mad.”

“Wow.” She studied his fingers, tracing the shape of one of his cuticles.

“Fess up. What about me?”

“You? I don’t know. You were always cute.”

“Handsome. Breathtaking,” he corrected her.

“That’s enough of that.”

“Okay,” he conceded, but his grin was impish.

“I noticed you. If you want me to be honest, I didn’t want to notice you.”

“Why not?” He looked taken aback. “How can you ignore all of this?”

“Let’s see. A, you had a thing for Veronica for, like, forever.”

“Ouch…”

“B, every other girl was lined up and ‘noticing’ you, too, and I didn’t want to join the crowd.” She made quotey fingers.

“But be honest, Bets, C, you were all about Archie back then. That might have gotten in the way of you noticing me.” He looked like he found the thought distasteful.

“Maybe it got a little in the way.”

“Great.”

“What if it’s not getting in the way anymore?” Reggie stared at her, about to say something until Pop walked over with two water glasses and his little flip-pad.

“What can I get you kids?”

“Root beer float.”

“That’s all you want?” Reggie inquired. She nodded. “A large fry,” he decided. “Split them?” he murmured into her hair.

“Yeah!” The prospect of salty and sweet appealed to her.

“Coming right up.” Pop took the menus and cleared away the extra place settings, leaving them to their huddle.

“So… you liking Carrot-Top won’t get in the way of you and me?”

“As long as you think there isn’t anything else getting in the way?”

“There isn’t,” he said gruffly. He watched Pop disappear into the back to get a milkshake glass and ice cream scoop. Reggie’s finger gently lifted Betty’s chin, tilting her face up to his for a teasing kiss that gave her goosebumps. Betty noticed a few patrons staring at them and felt self-conscious, nudging him to cool things down. He smiled easily and took her hand, lacing their fingers together.

“I think I was mad at you.”

“When? Recently?”

“Not that recently. Just… you were right. I didn’t want to believe you when you said Archie like Veronica more than me.”

“Do we have to talk about that?”

“Not much. I just want you to know, maybe that was what made me not… y’know, notice you as much. And you were right. Even if I didn’t want to admit it. Ronnie’s my best friend. She knew I liked him, but she always seemed to shove it under my nose when he spent time with her.” Reggie sighed.

“Don’t get me started.” She looked at him funny.

“C’mon. You liked her.” His face said Get outta town! and he threw up his hands.

“Well, yeah! Who didn’t?” She poked him savagely in the ribs. “Quit it! Whatever. Betty, okay, you’re right… I did like her, but I got over it pretty quick.”

“Not til the end of the ninth grade,” Betty reminded him. Her eyes told him You’re shitting me.

“Not for the whole school year,” he argued.

“You asked her to the spring semi-formal.”

“How did you know?”

“Besties? Hello?”

“Do we have to talk about this?”

“She said you tried pretty hard.”

“Right. We’re done with this.” He began tickling her.

“But-“

“We’re done. Yup. Finished.”

“But you… *heeheehee*… quit it!” His fingers were wicked; it was the kind of merciless, grade school, make-you-have-to-pee tickling, and Betty’s cheeks grew flushed. The other customers in the shop smirked in their direction, but the two of them didn’t straighten up until Pop brought their order to the table.

“It’s a restaurant, not a wrestling ring.”

“Sorry.” He set down the float between them, its generous scoop of vanilla ice cream disintegrating into into the sweet foam and slowly oozing down the glass. He laid down two long-handled spoons and served the fries with a flourish. “Enjoy them.”

“Thanks, Pop.” He winked at them again, then made “I’m watching you” pointy fingers at his eyes toward Reggie before he went back to the counter. Reggie flushed and met Betty’s amused glance. “What?”

“You know what.”

 

 

**Author's Note: Right. Okay. TWENTY-SIX pages. I suck. So sue me. My brain has been on such writer's block lockdown for so long that then the flood gates opened, they exploded. You can now get back to your lives.**