Disclaimer: I don't own any characters from the Archie Comics nor any recognizable storylines from the CW's Riverdale. I only own my character(s) and basic plot of this story. This is rated T for language and mature scenes.

Jughead was out of his seat a split second before the bell rang.

Billy silently watched him go, more confused than ever and a little hurt by his sudden abrasiveness. She couldn't figure out what went wrong between him playfully mocking her name and ignoring her entire existence. Unless he was peeved that she almost made him late to class, it didn't add up. That had to have meant it wasn't her fault, right? Which meant there was only one other factor.

"What was that about?" Billy asked Archie as she met him in the threshold of the classroom doorway.

Betty was standing quietly behind him with a wary look on her face and Billy didn't have enough time to gauge that before her cousin was tugging her down the hallway. Billy didn't enjoy being manhandled but she accepted it if it was going to get her answers. Archie paused near a row of lockers, Billy naturally leaning back against the cool metal while Archie turned to face her. Billy couldn't read the expression on his face but something told her he wasn't pleased.

"What did he say to you?" Archie asked immediately. Billy's brows wrinkled.

"Who?"

Archie opened and closed his mouth. "The kid you were sitting next to."

Billy felt like she was missing something.

"Nothing?" she frowned. "I mean, he helped me find my class. Why, what's wrong with that?"

"So he didn't say anything?" Archie pressed.

"About what?" Billy asked exasperatedly. "Either you honestly believe he showed me to Biology without physically saying a single word or there's another part of this you aren't telling me," her eyes scanned Archie's face as if she'd be able to unravel all his secrets and read them like invisible ink on his skin. When the look on his face didn't give anything away Billy asked, "What's going on? Do you not like him or something? Do you guys have some sort of beef with each other? Because I was under the impression he didn't know you existed."

Something about what Billy said must've clicked in Archie's brain. His eyes flitted away from Billy's face for a second as if contemplating something before he reconnected their gaze, his expression slightly less sharp.

Archie's shoulders slumped and he backed away.

"Nothing," he said, tone falling flat. The resigned way he spoke suggested he wasn't telling the whole truth. "He's just a little weird, that's all."

For a second Billy was completely thrown.

"'A little weird'?" she squinted, insides flaring. She may not have spent much time with her cousin since her family moved but she knew that, at least before they grew distant, he was a good person. He enjoyed helping others and he was always polite to strangers even if he felt they didn't deserve it. That's why she was so caught off guard. For a moment it was like she was talking to a completely different person – a boy she didn't even know. And despite the fact that Jughead was still new to her in a lot of ways, Billy couldn't help but feel slightly protective of him. He wasn't weird. "Since when do you judge people like that?"

It made Billy feel a little better to see a flicker of shame on Archie's face, like a part of him she recognized still existed. Betty was watching the two of them closely, wringing her fingers together nervously and looking fearful that a fight might break out. She stepped forward when neither Billy nor Archie said a word and she laid a careful hand on Archie's forearm.

"Okay, let's ease up on the big brother act, alright?" Betty said delicately, for the moment speaking as if Billy weren't around. "I know you're worried about her but she's allowed to make her own friends."

"Friends," Archie repeated like he didn't know the meaning of the word. Billy shifted under his stare, feeling like she was being accused of something she shouldn't have done.

"Well yeah," Billy answered his unasked question lamely. "I mean, I met him at Pop's a few weeks ago. It's not like we arrange playdates every weekend or anything but we've been known to on occasion make small talk."

"Really," Archie said like he didn't believe her. Billy felt inclined to explain herself.

"I wouldn't consider us friends exactly," she defended herself even though she didn't know why she had to. Why should it matter to Archie what friends she made? And why would she care what he thought? The only person she didn't feel attacked by was Betty who was giving her a cautiously sympathetic look as she grappled for something to say. "More like really civil acquaintances."

"He's the one who walked you home isn't he?" Archie asked, finally beginning to connect the dots.

"Yes," Billy said defiantly. "What's wrong with that, Dad?"

Her heart jolted at the unpleasant reminder of her father and it felt like the organ had lodged itself in her throat. Archie's eyes flashed, having a similar reaction to the indirect reference of his late uncle, and the shift in conversation was palpable, the air growing thick between them. Betty once again stepped in before it could escalate.

"It looked like you guys were having fun at least," she tried, attempting a smile at Billy before clarifying, "When you got to class."

"Yeah, until we sat down," Billy agreed without taking her eyes off the redhead, accusation coloring her tone. Betty's sigh was almost unheard, sounding like a mother exasperated with her two misbehaving children. Billy glared at Archie. "Don't think I missed the way you looked at him. Just because he's not like you doesn't mean you have the right to think of yourself as better. The Archie Andrews I grew up with wouldn't have treated someone like that."

"I'm not treating him like anything," Archie snapped in a raised voice. When he garnered looks from passing students he exhaled slowly before rubbing a hand down his face. "Look, I'm just… I'm sorry, okay?" he said, voice gentler. "Like Betty said, I was just… being the big brother. I can't help but worry about you. Dad worries about you. We just want you to be okay. What you went through, it—" he stopped himself short, exhaling slowly through his nose as he looked at Billy. "We just want you to be okay," he finished.

The tension slowly left her shoulders at the sight of Archie flashing his big brown eyes at her. It was the puppy dog look he'd mastered when he was five, the same look that got both him and Billy out of trouble more times than she could count. It was a look no one could resist, apparently not even her. She licked her lips and carefully relaxed against the lockers, feeling reluctantly grateful for Archie's concern, however warped and disillusioned it was.

"I'm fine," she assured him, only partially exasperated. "And I appreciate the fact that you care. But I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself," she cracked a smile grin, "I know not to take candy from strangers and if he tries to invite me into an unmarked white van I'll be sure to run the other way and call the police."

Archie huffed a laugh through his nose and the noise seemed to break the remaining tension.

"Call me first, then the police."

"That's dangerous. And it's quicker to dial 911."

"What about speed dial?" he challenged. "Two less numbers."

Billy hesitated. "I don't have you on speed dial."

Archie's face morphed into one of theatrical shock.

"Are you kidding me? I thought we were family. Wow B, glad to know the truth. I'm taking you off my speed dial the second we get home then."

The two smiled at one another, clearly forgiven, and Betty's frame loosened as she grinned in relief. Archie inclined his head in silent invitation and the three of them naturally fell into step on the way to their last class with Archie in the middle.

Betty's smile curved into something more mischievous.

"So, are you guys going to the formal?" she nudged Archie playfully with her shoulder. "Anyone you plan on going with?"

Billy sensed the hopefulness in Betty's question, easily able to read past the faux innocence of the way she asked it. Unsurprisingly, Archie was oblivious.

"I don't know," he replied. "I don't really have anyone to go with."

"I'm sure Veronica would be happy to go with you," Betty suggested, though it was clear the words had an edge to them. "She seemed rather impressed with you."

"Really?" Archie asked like he genuinely hadn't noticed. Billy wanted to roll her eyes.

"I don't think I should," she inputted, steering the topic away from any potential hurt feelings on Betty's part. "I'm pretty sure Cheryl is planning to roast me over an open fire and sprinkle seasoning on my charred remains, and since this formal is kind of her doing…" Billy shivered, partially serious. "Probably not the best idea."

Archie sighed like Billy's words exasperated him. "Why are you on Cheryl's bad side already?"

Billy gave him an offended look. "You ask that like I have a habit of getting on people's bad sides. I'll have you know I'm generally a joy to be around."

"Yes, you are," Betty assured her before Archie could say something disagreeable and Billy leaned across him to smile at the girl gratefully.

"Thank you, Betty."

The blonde beamed at the praise. "You're welcome."

Archie rolled his eyes. "A joy to be around, apple of everyone's eye, blah blah… you were saying something about being a meal for Cheryl Blossom?" Archie tilted his head. "Also, when did she become a cannibal?"

"A charred meal," Betty corrected him as they turned down another hallway.

"We don't need to discuss the intimate details of my demise," Billy denied immediately, feeling her cheeks flush as the moment between her and the fierce redhead flashed through her mind. Was it possible to get secondhand embarrassment from something she did herself?

"But I want to know the intimate details," Archie pointed out, smiling out of the corner of his mouth. "Am I going to have to beat up a River Vixen?"

"I don't think you could take her," Billy muttered. Archie raised his eyebrows impatiently and she groaned. "I insulted her cheerleading and now she wants to poison me Game of Thrones style."

They paused between two classrooms and Archie looked puzzled.

"How can you insult someone's cheerleading before you've even seen them cheer?"

"It was more an insult to the activity itself and my utter displeasure at joining the team."

Archie's eyebrows rose to his hairline. "She asked you to join the team?"

She chose to ignore the incredulous way he asked it, as if the thought of her being part of a cheerleading squad both amused and baffled him.

"Indirectly asked me to try out is more like it. I said no in a very non-graceful way but Betty, on the other hand," Billy emphasized, tossing the girl a look whose cheeks pinked, "has agreed to try out along with Veronica."

Archie clearly thought Billy was being facetious but when her face remained stoic and unmoving Archie whipped around to face Betty.

"Wait, seriously?"

"It's not a big deal," Betty defended herself quietly, shrinking back into herself at the inquisitive way Archie was staring at her. She pulled at her cardigan shyly. "I mean, I figured why not? I've got nothing to lose, right? I probably won't make the team but there's no harm in trying and plus I didn't want to make Veronica do it on her own."

"You'll make the team," Archie assured her, completely missing the way Betty's face marred a delicate flush at his reassurance. "There's no way you won't. You're very peppy and cute," he quickly looked to Billy with wrinkled eyebrows. "Those are all qualities a cheerleader has, right?"

"Cheerleaders aren't your type, Andrews?" Billy teased, smirking to herself at Betty's rosy red cheeks. "That's surprising. I thought football players were required to date cheerleaders. Some type of code that all high schools have like the T-Birds and Pink Ladies in Grease. Oh wait," Billy lifted a finger, smiling impishly before pointing to the two individually. "One football player, one cheerleader."

Betty quickly shook her head, stammering and tripping over her own words while her blush traveled down to her neck. "No we're not—"

"Those things only happen in movies, Billy," Archie shook his head at Billy like she was naïve, grinning lightly and seemingly unaffected by the insinuation of him and Betty as a couple. Betty's shoulders slumped upon noticing this and Billy frowned inwardly at how obtuse her cousin was.

The three of them slowed to a stop next to an open classroom and Billy's mind turned like it had been on pause since walking and was now trying to catch up with the events taking place around it. She whipped her head from left to right, feeling a pang of panic surge in her stomach.

"Oh my god," she paled, palming her pant pockets frantically. "The bell's about to ring and I don't even know where my last class is!"

"It's right here," Archie gestured to the class they were standing next to and Billy's eyes flickered from the door to Archie, frowning.

"How'd you know?"

"I have an eidetic memory," he said seriously. Billy opened and closed her mouth, squinting at her cousin as if to determine whether he was lying or not, but Betty spared her by shaking her head.

"No he's not," she said, amused. "But he did memorize your schedule this morning."

Billy placed a hand over her chest. "Be still my heart, Andrews."

Archie rolled his eyes. "Get to class, Beatrice. Meet you at the lockers after."

Billy grinned at Archie before bestowing a quick wave to Betty, hustling into the classroom when she heard the bell ring.

Her last class flew by without any surprises or unpleasant student introductions. She had a steady collection of syllabuses piling up in her bag though and the mental image of Uncle Fred huffing and puffing as he signed slip after slip of paper made Billy crack a grin.

When the final bell rang, Billy tugged her messenger bag over her shoulder and followed the throng of chattering students out of the class and down the hall to the lockers. Billy had a brief moment of alarm, afraid that she'd once again forget where her locker was but to her relief she managed to find the correct one in record time. She replaced a few books in her messenger bag with folders, thankful that the teachers weren't cruel enough to assign homework on the first day. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and scrolled through her Twitter feed until she felt a body saddle up beside her. She looked up from her phone and offered Archie a smile.

"So I've got try-outs to get to," Archie said as he led them through the building. "If you're cool with waiting until I'm done you can just hang out in the bleachers or in the library. If not I can just walk home, no big."

"I can stay," Billy shrugged. "It's not like I've got anything else better to do, right?"

Archie tilted his head in consideration, pursing his lips. "Touché."

She followed him out to the practice field, clutching her bag tightly as she spotted a herd of blue and gold jerseys collecting in the grass. She hadn't forgotten about her little episode at Archie's summer practice, her knuckles turning white as she eyed the boys shoving one another playfully, smacking each other's padded chests and grunting like Neanderthals. She mentally prayed that none of them remembered her or that her breakdown was just so uninteresting and anticlimactic in the world of jocks that they couldn't be bothered to care. A few heads turned when Archie came into view and the boys yowled and hooted in his direction for whatever reason and Billy glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.

As if sensing her distress, Archie paused halfway to the field and turned to face her.

"I'm going to go change in the locker rooms so," he gestured theatrically to the silver bleachers resting a few feet away along the perimeter of the track, "make yourself at home. This probably won't take more than an hour."

"It's all good," Billy said, flashing her eyes cautiously at the jocks who hadn't taken their hawk-like eyes off of them.

She saw the one from that morning who'd wolf-whistled at Archie in the hallway, Mr. All Brawn and No Brains, nudge the boy next to him and mutter something in his ear. The two broke out into cackles and Billy's insides flipped, her heart rate spiking as their gazes flitted between her and Archie.

She licked her lips and turned on her heels, making her way through the grass until the turf of the track scraped beneath her shoes, willing the nauseous feeling in her stomach away. She stepped onto the bleachers, her footsteps echoing dully on the metal as she climbed up to the top. She secured herself a spot on the corner where she could drape her legs over the side if the mood struck her. She placed her bag next to herself before propping her feet up on the bench below, crossing her arms over her stomach as she watched the boys on the field do warm-ups. The coach – she couldn't remember his name – was standing off to the side with his stereotypical whistle and clipboard, eyeing the boys like a hawk as if sizing up a hearty meal.

She saw Archie jog onto the field a few minutes later with his gear on, helmet clasped at his side as he greeted the coach. Several more potential members slipped onto the field and then the coach blew his whistle, gathering them into a huddle. Billy quickly lost interest upon realizing she couldn't hear what was being said and directed her attention to her phone, deciding to give her Mom a call while she had the free time. She pulled up the number of the nurse's station before bringing the phone to her ear. It only rang twice before someone answered.

"Hi, it's Billy. I wanted to call and check up on my Mom. Talia Whitaker."

There was some shuffling on the other line. "Hmm. I believe Mrs. Whitaker is with a counselor at the moment. If you call back in an hour or so she should be free."

Billy's shoulders slumped. "That's alright. Just forward the call to her room and I'll leave a message."

Once transferred she left a quick message for her mother before hanging up the phone, a resigned sigh leaving her mouth as she stared ahead at the boys running on the field without really seeing them. She perched her elbows on her knees and admired the sunny sky, breathing in the scent of the fresh breeze as the tall trees rustled behind her.

Her eyes strayed from the sky to the teens walking below the bleachers. Her gaze fell on them, uninterested, until she spotted a dark figure with a familiar beanie heading down the hill towards the road, his eyes trailing over his shoulder to glance at the field where the boys were doing their drills.

Billy perked up, glancing halfheartedly in the direction of the field as if afraid Archie could physically sense the potential interaction she was about to initiate, before pulling herself to her feet and hopping down the bleachers two rows at a time. She startled a group of kids sitting on the bottom two benches and she tossed a breathless apology at them as she landed in the dirt a few feet away before jogging around the bleachers to the boy's quickly retreating form.

"Jughead!" she called. The boy in question lifted his head to peer over his shoulder but his movements didn't slow. "Jughead, wait!"

She sped up a bit to catch up with him and at the last second he slowed to a stop, clutching his backpack loosely with one hand as the other was tucked in the pockets of his black jeans. He quirked a cautious eyebrow at her, seeming both surprised and unsurprised to see her there. She paused next to him and willed herself to catch her breath.

"Hey," she breathed. Jughead's other brow lifted and he looked reluctantly amused at her disposition.

"Bit out of shape there?" he asked.

"Something like that," she swallowed thickly, turning to look at the field before squinting over at him through a vexingly bright ray of sunshine. "Hey, I just wanted to apologize. For my cousin," she explained, thumbing behind her in his general direction. "Whatever happened back there, he was just being protective. I don't know if he made you feel weird or uncomfortable or whatever, but it was nothing personal. I don't know if you… if you felt weirded out by the situation or if it was something else, but if that was the reason then I just wanted to say I'm sorry," she paused before clarifying awkwardly, "for that."

Jughead opened and closed his mouth before lifting a shoulder.

"It's fine," he said in a way that suggested it wasn't fine at all. "No big."

He made to walk away in what Billy would've otherwise concluded as a deliberate attempt to end the conversation but she quickly jumped forward, urging him to stop.

"I just… I'd feel better if you said you forgave me," she laughed uneasily. She was beginning to second guess herself now, like maybe she'd made the wrong assumption earlier. But since the metaphorical hole had already been dug, she might as well finish what she started and bury herself inside it. "Or forgave him, either one. I don't like when people are mad at me and I hate to think I maybe did something wrong, especially when I've only known you for like a month. It usually takes a bit longer than that before people get tired of me," she said, cracking a lame sideways grin at her futile bid at humor.

This time Jughead just looked confused. "I'm not mad at you."

"You're not?" Billy asked, unconvinced. "Because it kind of seemed like you were. Just a little," she pinched two fingers together. Jughead stared at the fingers before bringing his eyes back up to hers, seemingly unimpressed. Billy sighed and dropped her hand, shuffling from side to side in the grass. "It's just… you're sort of my first friend here. I mean, I've got my cousin, but it's different when you interact with people you're not actually related to, you know? I mean, if it's weird saying we're friends then I won't use the word 'friends'. I've used the term 'civil acquaintances' before and I'd be alright if you preferred that—"

"Billy," Jughead interrupted her. Billy's mouth remained open but words ceased from tumbling out of it like a waterfall, which was apparently Jughead's goal. He cracked a light grin at the redness coloring her cheeks. "First of all, stop saying 'I mean' and the word 'weird'. They don't even sound like they're part of the English language anymore," Billy bit the inside of her cheek as Jughead finally turned to face her fully. "Second of all, yeah. Maybe I was kind of mad, but not at you. If you haven't already noticed, I'm on pretty much the opposite end of the social spectrum from people like, say, your cousin."

"I wouldn't say he's really social," Billy tried to correct him but Jughead had already prepared a rebuttal.

"Jock," he lifted a finger. "Popular," he lifted another. "Buff," he lifted a third. Billy's forehead wrinkled.

"What's buff got to do with anything?"

"Plenty," Jughead said dryly. "He doesn't follow the same crowd I do."

"You mean the crowd of undead hipsters?" Billy tried, smiling hopefully. Jughead rolled his eyes but returned the smile nonetheless.

"Right," he agreed. "Anyway, I'm not mad at you. But if you insist on hearing those words specifically, I'll say them for your benefit: I forgive you."

Billy felt a smile spread across her lips. "Oh, good. For a second there I thought we'd have to exist in this weird limbo where we danced around each other in the school hallways for the next two years."

"You said 'weird' again."

"Sorry," she said even though she wasn't. She continued to smile at Jughead who shifted a bit in the grass. She opened her mouth to speak again before he decided to take off. "So are you going to the dance?"

Jughead furrowed his brows wryly. "Didn't we already have this conversation?"

"Maybe," Billy sang. "I had this theory that maybe if I asked again I'd receive a different answer."

Jughead snorted. "Your theory would be wrong."

Billy frowned, though she tried to not let her disappointment show.

"Oh… okay then, that's fine," she quickly laughed it off. "I probably won't go either. I'm not a dancer and they'll probably play a bunch of generic pop music I've never heard before."

Jughead seemed puzzled. "Why do you want me to go so bad?"

Billy felt awkward again. She shrugged a shoulder after a moment's hesitation.

"I don't know. I mean,–" Jughead narrowed his eyes at her and she chuckled, "my cousin'll be there and so will his friends so it's not like I'll be alone but… I don't know, I kind of feel like I don't really belong; like his life is this pretty picture I was never a part of until now and the painting's already finished so it's like the artist went back and drew a stick figure in crayon somewhere in the background." She clarified redundantly after a brief pause: "The stick figure being me."

"I got that part," Jughead said, grinning a little before scuffing his shoes in a loose patch of grass. "Didn't you say you lived here before?"

"Well sure," Billy nodded. "But that was a long time ago. Things change."

"I don't know if you noticed," said Jughead with a smirk, "but literally nothing in this place changes."

"The people do," Billy pointed out. "They grow up. He grew up without me."

"So let me get this straight," Jughead readjusted the strap on his shoulder. "You're asking me, a more or less stranger, to a school dance – which is mighty forward by the way, I already told you once you need to take me on a date first – as a replacement for your cousin with whom you've grown apart from because you're now a crayon stick figure?"

"I wouldn't use the word 'replacement'," Billy wrinkled her nose. "I like to think of it as… a trial run. Of friendship. We could go to the dance, separately but hang out together, and turn our noses up at the social hierarchy of Riverdale High whilst simultaneously wearing relatively nice clothes. And then while Archie is off gallivanting with his friends, I'll have someone of my own there," Billy mentally backtracked after the words left her mouth. "That came out wrong but you know what I mean."

"Well now I'm completely convinced," he quipped dryly.

"Thought you would be," Billy grinned, tucking her hands inside her back pockets. A whistle was heard off in the distance. "So what do you think? If you say no I'll just ask you again tomorrow because I'm convinced my theory really does work in repetition."

Jughead sighed heavily, gazing somewhere over her shoulder as he mulled over her invitation. When his eyes eventually settled on her again his posture loosened and his lips thinned.

"Fine," he said, sounding like he agreed to commit high treason with a convicted criminal. Billy's smile stretched from ear to ear.

"Really?" she bounced on her heels.

"You owe me."

"That's fine," she quickly waved his comment off. She bit the inside of her lip. "Can we wear matching outfits?"

He cut his eyes at her sharply. "No."

She tossed her head back and laughed. "I'm just kidding. I'll save that for the first date."

She grinned wickedly and Jughead groaned. He lifted his head back and gave the Heaven Help Me look.

"What have I gotten myself into?"

I know it's been months. I know sorry isn't something you guys want to hear. I know it's just going to sound like I'm making excuses. But honestly, the last couple of months have been absolute shit. I won't bother going into detail but to sum it up: a family friend passed away, I traveled across the country for the funeral, I got sick when I got back, work has been hell, and just recently my friend got married and I was the maid of honor. I know I lost some followers from disappearing and I don't blame you, and suddenly reappearing with a chapter half the length of what you're used to is shitty. To be honest I've had all of this written for like three months but never got around to writing more. I didn't want to post a chapter this short but I figured today that the best way to get back into it was to start small so I made the decision to post what I had. Thankfully there's enough content to pose as a real chapter, more or less.

I also wanted to address a review I got a while back. ellidraco1014 asked how Archie could get his musical side from Billy's father if he's only related to him by marriage and not blood. Basically, I was basing it solely on influence - if you're around someone long enough or often enough, sometimes you inherit things from them. It doesn't matter if they're a blood relative or not. In this case, Archie may have in theory inherited Billy's father's love for music just from being around him and watching him play guitar.