Heartbreak (Bughead) ✓

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧: 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

"Are you sure you still want a party?" Alice asked, sitting down across from Betty at the dinner table.

"Of course," Betty answered, setting down her fork.

"Elisabeth, you can't just pretend that everything's alright..." She started, causing Betty to sigh.

"I'm not pretending..." Betty lied, looking back down at her plate.

"If it's not so bad, then why won't you just tell me?" Alice questioned.

"Because I...I can't..." Betty stuttered, unsure of what to say.

"Was it a boy?" Alice asked, curiously.

"Maybe..." Betty replied, wearily.

"You don't have to tell me who it is, I just want to know what happened," Alice assured.

"Nothing happened," She lied again.

"Did a boy touch you where you didn't want him to?" Alice questioned, concerned.

"No," Betty answered, truthfully.

"Did they physically hurt you?" Alice continued.

"No," 

"Did they make you do something you didn't want you to?" Her mother asked, running out of options.

"No," 

"Then what happened?" Alice questioned, confused.

"I just don't think that he wants too much to do with me," She answered, glancing back down at her plate of food that she had bearly touched.

"Well, then he's missing out," Alice stated, making the girl smile, for the first time in a while.

"How about we throw the best party ever, for your birthday of course," Alice suggested. "To also get your mind off of this foolish boy," 

"I'd love that," Betty agreed, happily.

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"Now guests," Her mother started, a list in hand.

"Veronica's family?"

"Yes,"

"Kevin's family?"

"Yes,"

"Archie's family?"

"Yes,"

"Cheryl's family?"

"Yes,"

"Obviously, the Joneses," Alice continued, writing something down.

"Mhm," Betty hummed, nervously.

Thankfully her mother hadn't noticed. Or so she thought.

Her mother's list kept going, on and on again. Yes's and No's were flown around, repeatedly. Betty had completely forgotten how draining, party planning can be. How could her mother handle this on the daily?

"Now, what colour of balloons?" Alice asked, glancing back up at her.

"Mom, I'm turning 18," Betty stated.

"So...white?" Alice questioned.

"Fine, but no streamers" Betty responded, giving in.

"Deal," Her mother agreed, writing in down.

"Inside or outside?" Alice asked.

"Mostly outside," Betty answered.

"So like a barbeque?" Alice questioned, slightly disliking the idea.

"A classy barbeque," Betty corrected, making her mother smile.

"I like the sound of that," Alice stated, writing it down.

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Jughead glanced over to his mirror, eyeing the picture of Betty and himself from the age of seven. His mother had taken to photo, a week before she had left. Jughead didn't know why she left. All he knew was that she did and never turned back.

He gently pulled out the photograph and sat back down on his bed, looking at the photo. Even a decade later, Betty's main features hadn't changed that much. Her hair still the golden blonde that glowed in the sunlight, her eyes still impeccably emerald green, and her smile still beamed with happiness.

Well, when she wasn't faking it.

Even her choice of style hadn't changed that much, along with the colours. It was very feminine. Very Betty.

He had messed up everything between them. It was tearing him apart. The most important thing to him, he had broke. He wanted to tell her the truth, but she wouldn't talk to him. She never answered his calls or texts.

Maybe it was better that way, so he couldn't somehow hurt her again.

Maybe...

Just maybe.