❝I don't know what you went through, and I know we aren't going to go back to where we were for a long time, maybe even ever. But if I knew that you were about to go through the worst time of your life, I wouldn't have left. I swear.❞
Catherine Bell...
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↳ Monday
Nov. 14th ↲
I hurriedly put on my cashmere sweater, rushing down the stairs and eagerly awaited Jughead. It was 6:58 A.M. and Jughead was always on time.
As predicted, I saw Jughead walking from a distance with his head down, hands stuffed in his pockets. He picked his head up, his eyebrows knitting together as if something was off.
"What?" I asked once he was within earshot.
Jug shrugged, saying: "Nothing. It's just that normally I'm the one that's early."
"Well, I had some spare time," I crossed my arms, darting my eyes away from his stare as I grinned.
Jughead and I began to walk to Pop's, making small talk—with the topics ranging from the weather to how well we slept.
"So uh... where did you sleep last night?"
He sighed, shaking his head and rubbing the back of his neck. "I never should've told you."
My eyes widened. "No! You should've!"
"I knew you would be worried about me," he scolded himself, huffing a little as he tensed up.
"Is that so wrong?"
He paused in thought. He fixed his beanie and said "No," slightly disappointed. "I don't know. I'm not used to anybody worrying about me. Even Betty never worried as much."
My pep toned down as I reflected on Jughead's life. "Well, get used to it."
"I'd rather not," he told me, brutally. "You're the last person that needs to be worrying about me. If anything, I should be worried about you."
"And you aren't?" I jokingly asked, looking over at him with a sly grin.
He scoffed, warming up to a smirk. "Well, I am," he admitted, looking over to me.
After going back and forth between topics, we made it to Pop's.
"Did your parents ever find out about the table?" He asked, eating his plain toasted bagel filled with cream cheese.
I shook my head proudly. "Not a word."
"That's good," he smiled a little. "You'd think your mom would notice since she's a detective."
I laughed, causing Jughead to laugh. My laughter immediately stopped once I heard the bells on the door jingle and I saw him.
Derek walked in, looking messier than ever. His hair was ragged and a five o'clock shadow spread across his jaw. He looked like he had been dragged through a ditch. He cradled his cigarette between his fingers and took a short drag, slapping his money on the table as he pointed out a specific item on the menu. He seemed pale, as if he hadn't been outside in weeks when it had only just been days.
