𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 ⚢ beronica

【 three. 】

Maybe if Betty had been more of an active social presence in Riverdale prior to this year-prior to becoming a Vixen-she would have more experience with how to behave in parties and around large groups of people in general. But prior to this year, she was an awkward, terribly shy freshman, and the younger sister of one of the most popular girls in school to boot. Having the guts to try out for the Vixens again after her mortifying freshman year failure and without Polly to support her was something that she has to attribute entirely to secondhand courage derived from Veronica.

So yeah, Betty has just barely begun to get used to the public spotlight brought on by her Vixen membership, and now every weekend there is a party and in every party, Betty tries to feel comfortable being surrounded by people she's never spoken to.

But what makes it much, much worse, is that in every party she observes the same scene, increasingly exasperating, increasingly aggravating, achingly familiar now-Veronica, arriving with Betty, Archie, and Kevin, being pulled off separately to the side for a flirty talk by some random guy. Betty notices, clearly and unmistakably, that they just can't help themselves. It's like every human variation of Chuck Clayton has been genetically programmed to want her. And Veronica is fine with it, of course. Is used to it. Betty attracts male attention, certainly, but not as often as Veronica, and when it's happened, her obvious discomfort has successfully scared every approacher away. On the opposite end of the disaster scale is Veronica, who navigates the glances, the low whistles, the hungry whispers into her ear with the sort of charming dexterity that Betty thinks must have been extensively trained. There's no way someone is that socially skilled and fearless naturally. Veronica turns these boys down and they only seem to want her more.

Not that she cares. She can't care. Yes, since New York her stomach has been performing flip-flops and her heart beats a little erratically whenever she thinks of her friend, but Betty has talked herself out of feeling many things before. This will be no exception; she can get over this, if she repeats it enough times: I don't like Veronica. Whatever it was that New York did-it can pass. It willpass. It has to pass. Betty has had a terrible enough experience liking a friend before; she doesn't need to go through it again, especially when she knows-she really just knows-that she will be left in much worse shape with Veronica than she was with Archie.

Tonight, Veronica is running late and Kevin is already there, so it's (an unwilling, reluctant, absolutely moody) Jughead who's alongside Betty and Archie, entering Reggie's extensive, richly-decorated house for his birthday celebration. As the door opens, they are engulfed by a party already well attended and well underway. The blast of music, the steam of teenage entanglement, and vaguely-alcoholic scent overwhelm Betty's senses for a quick moment. Then, Betty is exchanging polite greetings with nearby students, Archie is nodding and trading "bro-handshakes" with fellow team members, and Jughead is murmuring complaints about how not his scene this is.

Kevin finally meets them and while all four of them make their way to a less-occupied area of the foyer, Kevin throws an arm around Betty and begins with excitement, "not even a text the whole day? Was New York that fascinating?" Betty takes a sip of her ginger ale solely to buy time and avoid an immediate, unprepared answer, and her friend adds, "if I hadn't seen a picture of you two eating ice cream at NYU on Veronica's Instagram, I wouldn't have even known you were alive."

There are only so many swigs she can take from her cup before she absolutely has to give her friend some kind of reply, but the fact that she can't really talk about the trip without mentioning Veronica is the root of the lump in her throat, a thing so heavy that at times tonight, it's felt like it's strangling her.

Veronica dropped her off at her house three hours ago, told her with a lively smirk not to wear "anything I wouldn't" and that they'd see each other at the party. Yes, her punctuality with everything ranges from almost late to actually late, but she should have been here already. And while Betty wonders why Veronica is not here, she's simultaneously dreading the moment she sees her again.