Part I

"There she is," Betty Cooper grumbled. "And she looks like a million bucks."

Veronica Lodge could afford to look like a million bucks. She could afford to look like as many millions of bucks as she wanted. Her father was the richest man in Riverdale, and Betty had never seen her wear the same outfit twice. Today, she had on a fabulous charcoal suede jacket over a scarlet silk blouse, crisply pressed gray slacks, and black pumps. The tout ensemble was topped off with the subtlest makeup imaginable and a choker of unobtrusive pearls. Real, no doubt. Why Mr. Lodge didn't just ship her off to some exclusive boarding school was a mystery for the ages. But no, he insisted she attend Riverdale High so she could lord it over the peons.

Betty felt like a frump. She'd overslept and thrown on the same old jeans and purple sweatshirt she'd worn around the house Sunday afternoon, along with a pair of ratty pink tennies. One of the laces broke, and she had thrown them both away and gone without. She didn't even have time to put on a bra. She'd skipped breakfast, too, and in her rush out the door, she'd grabbed a sweater from the dark hall closet. It turned out to be her dad's, and it hung on her like a blanket. It hid her bouncing boobs all right, but the burnt-orange color clashed hideously with her corn-blonde hair.

Her hair! She hadn't washed it yesterday, and a furious brushing had only puffed it up into an electrostatic cloud.

"I want to die," Betty thought.

The girls approached one another from opposite ends of the block and met at the concrete walk that led to the front doors of the high school. Each threw one arm around the other's shoulders and pecked at the air beside her cheek. It was their customary greeting. They were, after all, BFFs.

Veronica's perfume was heavenly, too, like cinnamon and chocolate. Betty, her stomach empty, nearly swooned.

"Betty, what's wrong?" Veronica said. "You look a fright!"

Whether she was worried or gleeful was impossible to tell.

"Nothing," Betty said. "Just ... Monday."

"You should masturbate more," Veronica suggested. "This morning I pleasured myself with my platinum vibrator, and I'm ready to take on the world!"

"Platinum? How much did that cost?"

"Money's no object when it comes to orgasms."

Veronica's heels tapped on the concrete as she marched up the broad walk. Betty trudged along two steps behind, like an adjutant following the General of the Army.

"I don't know how you're going to ask a boy to the dance the looking the way you do," Veronica said over her shoulder.

She meant the Ladies' Choice Dance, which was held every April. It was a Riverdale tradition. The idea was to give wallflowers a chance to ask out boys who might never talk to them otherwise. Around school, it was known as the Losers' Ball.

"Well," Betty said, "if I can get a boy to say yes when I look like this, I'll know he likes me for who I am."

"That's the spirit."

A familiar voice behind them called, "Ronnie!"

It was Archie, hustling toward them from the street.

"How are you, Ron? I've missed you so much."

"We went out Saturday night," Veronica said coolly.

"It seems like such a long time ago," Archie said.

"I'm standing right here," Betty said.

"Betty!? Omigosh! I didn't recognize you. I thought ... I mean ... Omigosh!"

"It's all right," Betty said. "I've been told I look a fright."

By any objective standard, Archie Andrews was a funny-looking kid, with his freckles and his carrot-colored hair, which he kept short and parted in the middle. His wardrobe leaned toward red corduroy trousers, penny loafers, and anything with his school letter on it. Today, it was a black sweater vest with an enormous white "R" on the chest. But to Betty, Archie was a dreamboat. She had hoped to ask him to the Losers' Ball before Veronica got her hooks into him this morning, but she saw now the opportunity was gone.

"Have you thought about who you're going to ask to the dance?" he asked Veronica.

"I'm still thinking about it," she said. Betty hated how she led him on. Even more, she hated how he let her get away with it.

"What about you, Betty?" Archie asked.

"What about me what?"

"Who are you going to ask?"

She should have asked him right then, but suddenly, she was on her hands and knees, her books scattered before her. There was a concrete apron in front of the school doors, with a single step leading up to it, and Betty had tripped. It served her right, she thought, for being so distracted and jealous.

"Omigosh! Betty, are you all right?" Archie said.

"I'm fine," she said.

"Omigosh!"

Archie squatted, picking up her books, while a pair of gentle hands gripped her under the arms and raised her to her feet. The hands belonged to Jughead Jones, he of the weirdly old-fashioned beanie, and Archie's best friend.

"You OK?" he asked.

"I'm fine, " she insisted. "Really." But she'd scraped her hands. They felt like they were on fire.

"Oh, Betty, look at your jeans," Veronica said.

They were torn — a gaping hole in the left knee, with a blue flap hanging from it like a loose denim tooth. Betty tenderly put her hand through the tear. Luckily, she didn't feel any blood.

"It's not bad," Juggie said. "A lot of kids wear them like that."

"You'll live," Veronica said. "Archiekins..."

Taking the hint, Archie handed Betty her books and took Veronica's. Veronica possessively hooked her arm through his and led him into the school. Jughead offered Betty his own arm as a consolation prize.

"Don't worry," he said. "Someday he'll come to his senses."

"What makes you so sure?"

"I've been taking bets. You're the odds-on favorite."

Betty leaned into him with a giggle, touching his shoulder with her cheek, and taking the opportunity to wipe a tear on his sleeve.

"You always make me feel better," she said.

Her eyes were still adjusting to the indoor light when she spotted portly old Principal Weatherbee standing in front of his office. He always wore a three-piece suit. Today, it was sky blue, with a butternut waistcoat. He was glowering about with that narrow-eyed, harrumph-ing look he got whenever Archie accidentally damaged school property.

He tapped Archie on the shoulder as he passed.

"And Miss Cooper, you're here, too," he said. "That is most convenient. I would like to see both of you in my office at once."

The day was just starting. What could they possibly have done wrong?

"You're not in any trouble," Weatherbee said, as if reading their minds. "In fact, it's something of an honor."

Chapter 2 »