#bonding over a boston cream? more likely than u think
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maybe we can share one. (From hope!)
@woodridgehollow / accepting.
WOULD PROBABLY BE THE BETTER IDEA. maybe she's seen him before: perched on the curb just outside the gas station, wrapping the other half of a donut in a rough brown napkin to save for later. ( later always comes when it's hardened so much he has to soak it in coffee for it to even be edible. ) "yeah [ ... ] okay." he props open the door, fiddles with the piece of wax paper between his fingers. "uh, you can choose. i'm not picky."
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Someone within a twenty feet radius loves you!
(Part 2/3, Theme 1)
Betty was going to delete LoveAlarm from her phone.
She should have deleted LoveAlarm off her phone.
But come Wednesday afternoon, she still hasn’t, and she couldn’t have told you why. A glutton for punishment, probably.
>>No, you’re just a hopeful romantic! Veronica texts her while she’s in the library during study hall, working on an English essay. >>The app is all about proximity. You don’t know who you simply haven’t been within twenty feet of yet. Or maybe they just haven’t downloaded the app.
Maybe so, yet Betty can’t help but feel like there is a fine line between hopeful and masochistic. She wants to text Veronica back with a passive-aggressive message about how Veronica has it easy with a bunch of pings and *at least* two people around the school who love her. But she doesn’t because that would be shitty.
The point is, LoveAlarm is still on her phone and she’s doing her best to forget all about it and her unexpectedly complicated feelings about Archie. That’s when it happens: she feels her phone buzzing across the wood table.
Frowning, she checks it, assuming it’s Veronica with more encouraging platitudes. Betty can scarcely believe what she sees, however:
1.
Someone within a twenty feet radius loves you!
The red heart on her screen is practically vibrating off the phone as she watches in shock. Her eyes dart up and around, landing on every face surrounding her. There has to be what, twelve people in the library that could be within twenty feet of her? It’s a popular location for study hall, after all.
Someone is in love with her.
Was it Trev? Chuck? Sweet Pea? Alex C.? Tyler? Dilton? Of course it occurs to Betty that it could be a girl, but she isn’t up to date on who’s Out and who Veronica and Kevin are convinced are closeted. It definitely isn’t Ethel Muggs, who has started scowling at her every chance she gets lately.
The number on her phone goes back down to zero, so either the person turned their phone off or they just left her radius. Another frantic glance around only shows her the front doors swinging shut. Frowning, Betty realizes that Sweet Pea is no longer in the library and Trev has gotten up and walked over to a shelf in the back. Nobody seems to be doing anything with their phone.
Biting her lip, Betty considers her options, but there’s really only one solution.
*********************************************************
Jughead is in the Blue & Gold, fingers clacking away at the typewriter Betty had gotten him for his 16th birthday, Sweet Pea’s teasing words echoing in his ears, when said Hitchcock blonde comes bursting into the room.
“Juggie!” she exclaims a little breathlessly. She has one of those determined grins on her face that make his heart go pitter-patter.
Thankfully, his phone is off, so it can’t tell on him.
“I need your help.” She drags another chair up to his desk and sits down primly, spine straight and ankles crossed. /If you have the time./
/Of course. What’s up?/
Betty hesitates then, biting her lip. /I downloaded LoveAlarm,/ she says finally, arms and voice tentative. /Someone pinged it in the library earlier and I want you to help me find out who./ With that, Betty slaps down a piece of paper with a list of names on it. Jughead swallows hard.
He’s not an absolute moron, he did expect this. When presented with an unknown suitor, of course Betty Cooper would immediately start to investigate.
He could just tell her, but again, vulnerability is scary. As Tim Kreider wrote, “If you want to enjoy the rewards of being loved, you also have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known.” It’s a certainty that she’ll figure it out eventually. Maybe he’s being a coward, but hey, Betty *loves* solving mysteries.
Jughead doesn’t expect her love in return, he’s just flattered that he was the first one she thought of to help her figure out who pinged her LoveAlarm.
/Why are Sweet Pea and Trev’s names starred?/
/They left my radius around the same time my LoveAlarm went from 1 to 0./
When Jughead had decided to sneak into the library earlier and make her phone ping while he hid in the stacks behind her, he had been counting on the other students around her as cover but now, seeing that she’s zeroed in on two guys in particular has a pit opening up in his stomach.
“You’re a fucking idiot, Jones. Just tell her,” Sweet Pea had told him.
His hands feel clunky as he tries to sign. /And if it’s one of them, how would you feel?/
The question stymies Betty, who shakes her head and shrugs, gathering up her things. /I don’t know. Let’s just figure out who it is and I’ll figure out how I feel then./
“Okay,” Jughead ends up saying to her retreating back.
Thursday is simultaneously the most fun and the most torturous. In the morning, Jughead finds himself helping Betty stalk Sweet Pea down G Hallway, chatting him up to stall him near the Chem classrooms and surreptitiously waving her over once he ascertains that Sweet Pea has his phone out and turned on.
“Hey, Sweet Pea!”
Betty practically bounces as she comes to a stop next to him, eyes bright but biting her lip nervously. She’s balancing a 13”x9” tupperware container in her arms, and her phone is in her left hand, turned away from them so they can’t see LoveAlarm open on the screen.
Of course Jughead turned his own off as soon as he arrived at school. What do you think he is? An amateur?
“'Sup, Coop?” Sweet Pea doesn’t know a lot of sign language, but he smiles down at her easily. Jughead is overwhelmed by a sudden urge to kick him in the shin. “Are those for me?” Sweet Pea approximates sign with some basic pointing from the cupcakes in the tupperware container before pointing at himself.
“Uh…” Betty’s sneaking a glance at her phone and for a moment, Jughead is worried. “Yes, you can have one. They’re Boston Cream Pie cupcakes.”
He groans on the inside. Those are his favorite.
“Don’t mind if I do,” Sweet Pea murmurs, grabbing one and peeling away the liner so he can take a bite.
This time, Jughead’s groan may have been audible.
Betty catches Jughead’s eye and shakes her head. Great, that’s one name scratched off their list. To Sweet Pea, she says: “I better be off, or I’ll be late. Bye, guys!”
Jughead watches her leave, ponytail swishing from side to side. Sweet Pea watches him watch her leave for a moment before he clears his throat.
“Listen, Jones, I don’t mean to rush you and all, but...having a cute girl come up to you all smiles and offering you a cupcake—a damn delicious cupcake at that—might make a guy catch feelings. Just saying.” With that, Sweet Pea takes another bite of the cupcake, getting chocolate icing smeared all around his lips. Every chew he takes seems like a threat. A helpful threat.
“Lima Charlie,” Jughead sighs. Message received and understood. Sweet Pea’s older brother had been in the army and thus, he and Jughead had spent years using military jargon over walkie talkies as they snuck around Sunnyside. With a nod, Sweet Pea gives him an unnecessarily hard pat on the back and heads down the hallway.
When Jughead ducks into the Blue & Gold in between the next classes, he sees the tupperware container on his desk, next to his typewriter, a sticky note on top:
The rest are yours! I made your favorites, after all. -B
God I love you, Betty Cooper.
Lunchtime is nearly a disaster. Betty had roped the two of them into helping the Theater Club finish some set decoration for a production of Almost, Maine. All for nothing, because as it turns out, Trev is out for a dentist appointment. Still, Jughead manages to have fun being half-heartedly helpful while he eats his lunch—two ham sandwiches Betty brought in for him as a bribe for helping her with this—and Betty’s having a good time too, as evidenced by the fact she’s smiling so hard her eyes crinkle, and even when she tries to scrunch up her face to be mad at him eating more than painting, it just collapses into another giggling fit.
It’s when lunch is over and they’re heading up the aisle to where they’d left their things that Jughead remembers he left his phone on. Betty has hers with her, since she thought she would be testing Trevor’s phone for pings, and she’s barely five feet behind him.
Crap.
He hurries ahead and grabs it, depressing the power button. Just before the screen goes black, he could have sworn he saw his LoveAlarm app begin to open.
He doesn’t let himself think anything of it. In the rush, his thumb had probably hit the app button.
**************************************************************
Thursday night finds Betty pondering the mystery that still remains: the identity of the person who loves her. Sweet Pea has been eliminated from the list of possibilities, but Trev Brown remains a question mark.
Curled up in her thick socks and comfiest sweatpants, hair wet from her shower and starting to curl, Betty stares at her laptop screen as she contemplates their next step. Her and Jughead had bonded over their mutual love of The Baxter Brothers and Tracy True books as children, and they’d conducted more than one investigation together over the years, so it’s natural that Betty had gone to him for help with this, even if it’s a little embarrassing.
But why, a niggling little voice asks at the back of her mind. Jughead’s question comes back to her: what will she do if it’s Trev? She doesn’t know.
Trev’s...nice. He’s cute, and smart, and Betty doesn’t have the faintest idea what she’d do with the knowledge that he’s in love with her. Go on a date with him, she supposes, to at least see whether there is something there before she...breaks his heart? That’s what you do, right? You go to dinner at one of the few nicer restaurants in town or you go see a movie at the Bijou.
She doesn’t really want to think about this, Betty realizes, as her attention wanders from her Sleuthster search results to the ads along the column on the right. One ad catches her eye and she gasps, straightening in her chair and grabbing her phone. Her thumbs fly over the keys as before she hits [send].
<<Do you still have the reels for Rear Window?
>>Yes, why?
<<We should set the projector up in my basement and watch it this weekend. I’ll supply the snacks.
>>Capital idea, Betts, but how are you going to get all that junk food past the K9-level olfactory senses of Alice Cooper?
<<It just so happens that my mom and dad are going to visit Polly in Boston this weekend.
>>Cambridge. Just say Cambridge.
<<As long as we dispose of the evidence and air out the basement with some Febreeze, mom will be none the wiser. I’m sure Archie will donate his trash bin to the cause.
There’s a longer pause before Jughead replies.
>>It’s a plan
>>Speaking of plans, what do you need me to do tomorrow re: Mission Pings?
Betty grins and taps out the basic framework of how they’re going to corner Trev before the pizza party at lunch, but Jughead will have her phone on him so he can feel for her ping, and listen for Trev’s ping. A thought occurs to her and Betty suddenly feels selfish for insisting that Jug help her.
<<I meant to ask you...have you downloaded LoveAlarm?
>>What do you think?
>>Besides, I already know what it would say.
A terrible feeling, like a vise in her chest, takes her over as she reads and re-reads those words. How can Jughead believe this? Almost immediately on the heels of that thought is the reminder that Betty herself had been despondent on Tuesday when she allowed the melodramatic thought that ‘nobody was going to ever love her’ to take hold.
<<That’s bullshit. Any girl would be lucky to fall in love with you!
She means her words. Jughead may be antisocial, he may wear that crown beanie practically all the time, and okay, yes he can be the most extra fucking weirdo on the planet...but he’s also clever and passionate, she’s seen firsthand how caring and considerate he can be, and of course he’s objectively attractive.
Betty stares at the window that faces the Andrews’ home, with the roller shades that are always pulled down lately, and pictures Jughead’s face in her mind, how he’s a bit on the pretty side, especially with that mouth. She thinks about how jealous she’s been of that wild head of dark hair in the past, when she’s seen him with the hat off, and how over the past year he’s shot up another inch or two and seems to have filled out, especially in the arms—
>>From your thumbs to God’s ears, Betts. Night, I’ve gotta be up bright and early to help you catch the worm.
She lets out a huff of laughter and rolls her eyes even though she knows he can’t see her.
<<Night, Juggie.
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