Jughead groaned and cracked open one eye, only to see the other half of his bed totally empty. Just a dream. He groaned and rolled over.
“Seriously Jug, come look!”
It was a very persistent dream, and it sounded like it was coming from his window. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he looked over and saw a blonde angel in the dim light. He got up to join her.
“Betty, we live in Vermont. It does that here.”
He knew that didn’t matter— every year since they were five, Betty had dragged Jughead and Archie out of their beds on the morning of the first snow. There was no point in fighting, but he was pretty sure it was a Saturday, and he thought they’d both earned some sleep.
“Should we wake up Archie? Ooh, and Veronica! They won’t want to miss this.”
“Betty, it’s—“ he squinted at his alarm clock— “Jesus, it’s four in the morning. They can wait a couple of hours.”
“I don’t know Jug, it’s not sticking yet. What if it all melts?”
“Then we’ll just have to wait til the next snow, y’know, tomorrow or the next day.”
Betty pouted, and Jughead softened.
“Betts, Veronica needs her beauty sleep, and Archie— well, he just needs sleep. But I get that it’s important, so I’ll go out in the freezing cold with you.”
“Such a gentleman, offering to take me out, in the dark, alone, just you and me—“
“Shut up and put these sweaters on.”
“There’s less than an inch of snow on the ground, do I really need three sweaters?”
“I will accept two scarves and earmuffs as a substitute for one of the sweaters.”
“Fine. But you have to wear the one your grandma knit for you.”
“Joke’s on you, I love this sweater,” he mumbled while pulling the lime green atrocity over his head.
Betty just laughed and pulled him toward the door.
“What? Jughead, we’re gonna miss it!”
“Your head’s gonna be cold.” With that, he plopped his signature beanie on her head. She grinned.
“I feel edgier already. I suddenly have the urge to move to Seattle and become a bass guitarist. Gone are the days of pumpkins spice lattes, from now on I only drink straight espresso— what? Don’t smile at me! I’m making fun of you!”
Betty rolled her eyes, but smiled.
“You’re not so bad yourself. Can we please go outside now?”
“Just one more thing.” He leaned down to give her a quick kiss, and then opened the door to a not-quite winter wonderland.
Betty rushed out into the cold, sticking out her tongue to catch snowflakes the same way she did in kindergarten. Then she smiled, and held out her hand, and for a fleeting moment, Jughead believed that things would be okay. And maybe, at least for awhile, they would be.That weekend they could go sledding and drink hot chocolate, and forget about the terrors of their town just long enough to build a snowman. Eventually, life would resume, and Jughead would have to go back to bigger concerns than keeping his girlfriend from getting frostbite.
At least for now, though, Jughead Jones was content to stand in the snow at four in the morning with his favorite person in the world.
“Jug?” Betty came up and wrapped her arms around him, her cold nose pressing into his neck.
“Thanks for coming out with me. I know it’s early.”
“I love you,” she whispered, removing her face from his scarf.”
“I love you too,” he answered, pressing his lips against hers.
The night was cold, but in this moment, Jughead felt warm.
