Betty:
No complaints. I’m just glad you’re going out.
Kevin:
Way to make me sound like a charity case, Betts. I want it on the record that I’m feeling a touch excessively parented by you.
Betty:
After everything we’ve been through, especially recently, can you blame me? I’m just looking out for you. But your point is taken and I’ll try to back off a little.
Kevin:
I’m holding you to that.
Betty:
Text me updates. Not sure about service in the woods, but I want details if I can get them!
Kevin:
You DEFINITELY won’t get service, but I’ll DEFINITELY try. Will need someone to vent to if things get crazy! And, I mean … this is Riverdale so …
Betty:
Yeah, “crazy” is kind of our town motto. Fingers crossed for you.
Kevin:
Ditto! Don’t wash away—they’re saying the storm is going to be EPIC.
Betty:
Just my luck. Off to pack some serious waterproof gear.
Jughead:
All the Serpents are in for poker night. And Poisons, too, now. I’m a little worried about the tension. Even a friendly card game can get a little intense, you know?
Betty:
Well, maybe this will be a chance to smooth over some of the ruffled feathers?
Jughead:
We’ll see. Munroe is coming, too, and a bunch of Archie’s boxing buddies … not to mention Kevin and his mystery date. AND some of the theater crew AND Reggie and the Bulldogs. Honestly, at this point, I don’t even know half the people on the guest list.
Betty:
I guess that’s what they call a “full house.”
Jughead:
*groan*
Jughead:
Excellent dad joke, Betty. Sincerely.
Betty:
Anytime.
Jughead:
Seriously, though, it’ll (probably) be fun to hang with Archie—and, you know, basically half the town’s teen population, from the sound of it—but I’m still bummed not to have the weekend with you.
Betty:
Don’t remind me. Same, obviously. But it’s OK. We’re going to be fine. You know what they say, distance makes the heart grow fonder.
Betty:
And I’ll be EXTRA fond of you after a weekend of cheer camp and Cheryl in full Head Bombshell mode. I can basically assure you of that.
Jughead:
When it comes to the Vixens, it’s definitely Cheryl’s world, we’re just living in it.
Sweet Pea:
Everyone’s in for poker night. And, man—I know we’re, like, supposed to all be totally over the whole us vs. them thing with the Northsiders—but I gotta say, our boys are looking forward to taking those Bulldogs’ cash.
Jughead:
I’d be lying if I said that wasn’t understandable. But let’s keep all nice and friendly, OK?
Sweet Pea:
Got it. And I’ll make sure the rest of the gang knows.
Sweet Pea:
But speaking of nice and friendly …
Jughead:
Well, that’s an auspicious segue. What now?
Sweet Pea:
It’s just … things are a little tense with the Pretty Poisons. STILL a little tense, I mean … Those girls did come for us, remember?
Jughead:
Come on, man—we made a truce. The Pretty Poisons and the Serpents are on the same team from here on out. Can’t you guys just respect that?
Sweet Pea:
I’m not saying we couldn’t try harder—and I can talk to the gang about that, too—but you could also talk to the Poisons, is all I’m saying. It takes two. Or, uh, it takes two SIDES, anyway. And aren’t you our King? Meaning, this is kinda on you to handle, anyway?
Jughead:
Sweet Pea, you’re killing me here. You know now that I’m at Stonewall, I’m spread pretty thin. I’m always here for the Serpents, but I don’t have time for petty babysitting. You guys have to get it together and learn how to handle things on your own.
Sweet Pea:
Yeah, OK, we will. Geez, you don’t have to be so dramatic about it. It’s just something that’s going on. I thought you’d want to know about it. Isn’t that what you said? Keep you looped in and everything?
Jughead:
I know what I said, but this is ridiculous. I just want to know when it’s under control, OK?
Sweet Pea:
Sure, OK. Will do.
Jughead:
See you tomorrow night at the game.
Sweet Pea:
Yup.
BETTY
I try not to be too superstitious. There’s enough real, tangible bad stuff out there in the world without getting all worked up imagining that we’re seeing signs in secret places or that we’ve been, I don’t know, marked by fate somehow. But the bus trip to Sweetwater Pines didn’t get off to a particularly promising start, and it was hard not to read too much into that.
It was Saturday morning, and everyone was gathered in the Riverdale High parking lot to wait for our bus to take us to the retreat. But when Veronica arrived at the pickup, she was already looking pretty shaken up. It was easy enough to distract ourselves loading luggage once the bus had arrived—our own, and helping the rest of the Vixens, who were looking a little panicked at the rain that had already begun to fall in relentless sheets. The weather reports weren’t getting any more optimistic, and if this was just the start of it … well, it looked like we might be in for more nature this weekend than we’d bargained for. Everyone’s hair was already clinging to their scalps in scraggly wet tangles, and more than a few people’s once-perfect mascara had begun to trail sooty tracks down their cheeks.
Between the rain and the loading of the luggage (it must be said: As a group, the Vixens do not pack light), V and I couldn’t really talk about what was bothering her. Luckily, we had a three-hour drive ahead of us, which gave us plenty of time to catch up on all issues, large and small alike.
Trying in vain to shake the excess water off our umbrellas, we filed as quickly as we could onto the bus. Coach Grappler had planted herself in the driver’s seat (she was as hands-on and DIY as it got, it was turning out), waving us down the aisle in a manner that managed to somehow be both welcoming and still slightly intimidating, all at the same time. While everyone else looked like—at best—drowned rats, somehow Coach’s topknot looked perfectly sleek and deliberate, rather than athletic and utilitarian, which I suspected was her actual intention. Her warm-up suit was crisp and already nearly dry, tiny residual beads of water sluicing down her sleeves almost gracefully.