Adam and Eve Chapter Eight: Ghost of High School’s Past
Summary: The Jones men find out the truth about Scott, Betty looks in Cheryl’s closet.
Word Count: 4565
Note: This chapter doesn’t move the plot forward much, just a little treat for FP/Alice shippers. Next chapter will start to reveal some stuff!
Alice clenched her hands together and waited patiently for her daughters’ responses. Their wheels were turning, she may be a tough mother but she knows her kids; Betty balled her hands into fists and Polly lifted her head to the ceiling with her mouth agape when they thought intensely.
Before this very moment, she never admitted out loud that the son she gave birth to at age sixteen was not her high school sweethearts, but the tired, sad and lost boy from the Southside. He was that one piece of her that she couldn’t shake when she tried to desperately to leave behind where to grew up and migrate to the middle class of Riverdale. Hal was her ticket out, but FP, the dark haired boy that smelled like cigarettes and campfires, always reminded her of home.
When Betty brought home Jughead Jones, Alice couldn’t help but smile sadistically at the irony. Jones boys always had a way with the Cooper women, Alice thought.
The girls must have noticed her smirk, because Betty pressed, “Why are you smiling? Is this funny to you?”
Alice shook her head and looked at Betty’s green eyes, mirrors of her own, and now; her daughter knew just how alike they really were. She tried to keep eye contact with her, but the watering eyes of her daughter broke her heart. “No, it’s not funny. It’s a mistake I made as a teenager, cheating on you father. It’s something I’ve had to live with.”
“Does dad know?” Polly asked softly.
“No,” Alice answered quickly, “and I would like us to keep it that way. We are just putting the broken pieces of are family back together. It won’t make a difference now anyway. No need to drudge up the past.”
“Drudge up the past? Scott isn’t ‘a past.’ He’s a person. Speaking of which, FP is a person too. He deserves to know he has another son out there,” Betty said.
“You propose I visit him in jail?” Alice’s tone was mocking, but Betty nodded.
“And I have to tell Jughead,” Betty said determined, standing up and grabbing her coat from the hanger in the hallway connected to the sitting room. Alice stood up with her and followed her closely, her chunky heels clacking behind Betty like an axe murderer on a summer camp counselor.
“This is not your secret to tell, Elizabeth. Do not get Jughead involved,” Alice spoke firmly.
“Jughead has a brother. We share a brother. I’m telling him and there’s nothing you can say to stop me,” Betty challenged her mother, the two blond woman stepping closer to one another, the strong rigid jaws of their anger waiting to see who would crack first.
“If you leave this house, you’re not welcome back,” Alice whispered gruffly.
Betty’s eyes flickered with fear and disappointment, how could her mother abandon another one of her children? Like it was so easy? But Betty prided herself on doing the right thing and despite the old wise tale that your parents always knew what was right, Alice was full of hate and rage Betty would never understand.
“I’ll send you a forwarding address,” Betty pursed her lips in a tight line to suppress her quivering lip. “I’ll pack a bag and be out of your hair.”
Betty bounded upstairs and Polly, hearing everything, ran after her, calling her name with a throaty whine.
She gathered only the essentials, clothes for a few days, toothbrush, deodorant and makeup, all flinging them into her paisley patterned overnight bag. Polly crashed into the room and wrapped around her from behind, almost like she was tying Betty in a straightjacket in attempts to stop her.
“Don’t leave me,” Polly begged and Betty felt a warm tear soak through the shoulder of her pale colored sweater.
Betty turned to her sister and her shoulders, “I don’t want to, Polly. But Jughead deserves to know. FP deserves to know. Jellybean too. Mom will come to her senses, just like when you were living at the Blossom house. Don’t worry, Pol. I’ll be back for Christmas,” Betty gave her a shaky smile, only half believing her words.
Polly nodded, “You are right. I remember how I felt when Mom told me… tell him. I support you.”
The two hugged, it was a deep, soul penetrating hug of understanding and being a little too grown up for their age. Polly left and Betty went with her bag slung around her arm to sneak into Cheryl’s room. She didn’t know for how long she would be gone and she had one more thing to do. On her knees, Betty waded through hundreds of shoeboxes in what used to be Polly’s closet, until she reached a shiny red box labeled prétentieux. She didn’t know what she was expecting when she flipped open the lid, blood overflowing from the top maybe, but instead, there was nothing. Mysteries were always full of dead ends.
Betty flicked off the light and passed her mother in the hall, going through the door with her phone in her hand, already texting Jughead: are you at the trailer?
Yeah, how did things go with your brother? His response came quickly like he was waiting for updates.
I need to come see you. I’ll be over in 10. Betty put her phone back on her pocket, not wanting to have him ask and having to explain just what the hell was going on over text. He deserved better than that. He deserved better than all of this.
Polly walked to her mother who still stood at the door, frozen watching Betty walk down the sidewalk and out of view.
“I hoped you would have learned better than to kick your children to the curb when you can’t handle them anymore,” Polly said in her ear, the words ringing painful and Alice’s brain.
Alice didn’t turn, so Polly went up the stairs and slammed the door loudly enough, making sure it’s wooden bang rang throughout the house and into her mother’s pounding head. She didn’t flinch. Alice Cooper had spent her entire life running from the Southside and what it contained, the crushed dreams, the dreariness and depression; but all of those things consumed her no matter wherever she filed her taxes, Southside blood ran in her veins.
The Cooper matriarch didn’t tell anyone she was leaving the house, not that anyone would care. She alienated everything she worked for, two beautiful daughters and a husband with enough money to give her security. And yet, just like that night her and Hal asked her to go steady, she found herself running back to FP.
Sheriff Keller was surprised to see Alice inquiring about FP Jones and wanting to see him. Everything to write for the paper had already be written surrounding FP and his involvement in Jason Blossom’s murder. But Alice Cooper being Alice Cooper, she just have a charming, stepford smile and Keller is compelled to trust her.
FP was lying on his flat mattress and it looked like he was reading something. The paperback was curled in his hands and Alice tickled her knuckles against the bars to get his attention. His dark eyebrows quirked and he sat up in a manner that made Alice feel like he was trying to impress her with straight posture.
“Welcome to my home, Mrs. Cooper,” FP sweeped his hands in a grand gesture around the concrete cell and stood up to lean on the bars in front of her. She stepped back slightly a smooth her floral blazer. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
Alice pulled the folding chair from the corner to sit in front of the bars and sat before him. “I want to play a memory game,” Alice began, “I’m going to say a date and you tell me what happened that day.”
“Is this an interrogation?” FP smirked from above her and grasped the bars. Alice noticed the muscles in his forearms straining and his calloused hands.
“I love games, FP. You of all people should remember that,” Alice said. FP stayed silent and shifted his weight to his left foot.“May 31st, 1994.”
The dark haired man snorted and shrugged, “I don’t know. 1994 is the year we graduated.”
“Correct. It’s the day we graduated,” Alice confirmed. “May 14th, 1992.”
“This is crazy, woman.”
“Hal’s senior prom, where you caught us two fighting and decided that was alright to mention to my child,” Alice answered for him.
“You’re here about that?”
There was a long pause and Alice swallowed a lump in her throat before she said, “February 29th, 1992.”
FP suddenly crouched down and looked her in the eye, level with her darkened gaze, “Why are you bringing that night up now?”
He remembered. She could tell my the boyish look in his eye bringing her back to that night.
Alice was just asked to be Hal Cooper’s girlfriend she should’ve been over the moon and around the stars, but instead she felt a hollowness. And maybe it was the fear of unfamiliarity, and maybe it was a grasp for a past she wanted to rid herself from, but she found herself at the Jones trailer at the other side of the park. And there she found FP Jones, opening the door to greet her in ripped jeans and no shirt.
“Wanna hit the playground?” Alice asked, leaning on the door frame. She could hear the faint arguing of his parents in their corner room in the background. He closed the door gently behind him.
“Aren’t you supposed to be with that dink Cooper tonight? The whole park is talking about how one of us is going with a rich boy,” FP’s face showed disgust and Alice smirked at his display of possible jealousy.
“He dropped me off already,” Alice replied, her eyes trailing down his naked chest. Northside boys were hot too, but they’ll never have the rugged darkness and sexiness Southside boys had. “I’m his girlfriend now.”
FP shrugged, “Okay.”
“I think we should go drink at the playground like we used to,” Alice offered.
The kids in the trailer park hung out together a lot of the time, especially growing up as they were all so close in proximity and age. FP and Alice were never best friends or anything, but they spent enough time together where the request was only odd because it would just be the two of them.
“One last time before you move to the darkside?” FP chuckled at his joke, all of Riverdale believed the Southside was the dark side, not the North.
“Something like that.”
“Give me a sec.” FP slipped back into the trailer and she heard soft clanking; probably stealing from his parent’s liquor stash. They always had enough. He reemerged with a bottle of tequila, a shirt and a grin. He was still wearing his slippers when they started walking to the playground at the edge of the park.
It was nothing grand, there was a swing set, metal monkey bars and wooden tunnels that sat on top of a crumbling structure. The town never vowed to clean it up like the Northside playground when it was unsafe.
The teens climbed wordlessly up to the top of the monkey bars and sat with their feet dangling below them. It was cloudy that night with no stars hanging in the sky. FP untwisted the tequila cap and took a swig, noticeably trying to hide a wince. He passed it to Alice who did the same.
“Let’s play a game,” Alice offered, taking one more slug before passing it back between FP. She couldn’t help but think her lips touched where his just were.
FP scoffed, “What are we? Five?”
“Truth or dare.”
A deviant smirk crept up onto FP’s young, fresh face. “Oh. That kind of game. You have a boyfriend now, Ms. Alice, you shouldn’t be playing naughty games with boys from the trailer park.” FP liked the age-old sin of coveting your neighbor’s wife, especially when your neighbor was a middle class white yuppie and his girlfriend was hot and her hair was golden like a wheat field. He may have the money, but he was sure Alice and Hal never talked like this to one another.
“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Alice shrugged. “So, truth or dare FP Jones.”
FP looked thoughtful for a moment and replied, “Truth.”
Alice rolled her eyes. “Boring. Okay, tell me, how many girls have you had sex with?”
“Two,” FP answered slowly, gaging Alice’s reaction, and it was unimpressed and disbelieving. “Okay, fine, one. This girl Gladys. Her parents just moved to the park and she’s pretty and we got to kissing and talking and it happened. I’ve seen her around, but she doesn’t look at me.”
“So you’ve only had sex once,” Alice giggled. “Hal and I must have done it a million times by now.”
“Shut up. It’s your turn. Truth or dare?”
Alice leaned in closer to FP, smelling his summer scented soap mixed with cigarettes.
“Dare,” her voice was low and heavy with expectation.
What was this girl going for? She finally had her ticket out of this hellhole and she was slinking back into it with. Was she going to kiss him? What did she want him to say?
“Kiss me,” FP grumbled hotly.
Alice felt his breath on her he was so close. She held onto the bars behind her when she pushed her body forward to kiss him. It wasn’t a peck, but a lip crushing, eyes-squeezing-shut kind of kiss. FP still had the bottle in his hands but moved it to his lap so he could grab her face and keep her there just a little longer. Hal must have taken her to Pop’s for their date because she tasted like ketchup. They eventually broke apart and Alice wiped her mouth. Her eyes were dark and wild.
“Let’s get off of here. You’re going to have sex with me,” Alice said and climbed down.
“I’m going to what?” FP clutched the alcohol tighter; he needed more liquid courage to be as brave as her. But she gave him a look, hands on her hips, and he decided this was a once in a lifetime opportunity to be with someone as beautiful as her, and he wasn’t going to sit idle as life passed him by like his parents. He dropped the bottle down for her to catch and hopped off, “Yeah, I’m going to have sex with you.”
It was late February, technically March if it wasn’t a leap year, so the ground was cold but there was no snow. Fp peeled off his jacket, he was fucking cold already, but he laid it down on the patch of gravel under the monkey bars and Alice laid down on it immediately. FP pressed his body on top of her and she groaned, loving the feel the unfamiliar weight of a different man on her. He kissed her tenderly at first, slowly, wanting to feel every crevice of her mouth and lips and drink her in like fine wine, not cheap tequila; but Alice wanted none of that. She bucked her hips upward, earning a moan from FP, and wrapped her legs around him tightly.
She kissed him back aggressively, taking control of the rhythm. She brought her hands under his shirt and on his bare back, feeling the rigid muscles tense and relax as his body went through sensory overload. She pulled his shirt over his head and his body tightened with the cold air.
“Don’t worry, I’ll warm you up,” Alice snickered and flipped them over.
She undid the button of his jeans and slid them down, his boxers following. He hissed when his cock hit the cool air, but Alice bent and took him in her mouth swiftly. He automatically let out a throaty growl and she bobbed up and down, her warm mouth cradling him. He pushed back the hair falling in front of her face and made a ponytail with his fist so he could watch her. She took him expertly and he wondered why she was wasting her time on him. She gagged and pulled back.
“You’re so much bigger than Hal, but don’t tell anyone I said that, obviously,” Alice grinned and kissed his chest right near his heart. She got off up him and sheds her tights and rolls up her body conforming skirt.
“I’m going to touch you,” FP warned gently, asking permission but also wanting to be affirmative, and dipped a finger into her panties and was surprised by how wet she was. Her heat was pulling him and he inserted his middle finger inside of her, causing her hips to rise and meet his finger’s thrusts. He took his other handed and tweaked her nipples under her coat but through her thin shirt underneath. With him still inside, he circled his thumb around the nub he only read about in his dad’s Playboy magazines. He must have learned something important, because Alice was jelly underneath his touch and she growled out his name and flooded his finger with her cum.
“Shit, FP, you’re good with your fingers,” Alice sighed, “I’ve… that’s never happened to me before.”
The black haired teen smiled widely and rolled back on top of her, pinning her to the cool ground. They wiggled awkwardly back onto the jacket and Alice shimmied out of her panties. He took the head of his cock and ran it along her inner lips, teasing her until she grabbed ahold of his length and pushed it inside of her. They both groaned at the contact. FP started to move before giving her any time to adjust. His hips were wild and against hers; he was rough and unrefined and it made Alice’s toes tingle.
“Fuck, I’m not wearing a condom,” FP panicked and tried to stop his thrusts, but he was so close he could already feel the tightening in his balls.
“Just pull out,” Alice recommend breathlessly.
She had never not worn a condom with Hal before, but Mary Andrews said her and Fred did it all the time without condoms; she just had him pull out when he was going to cum. She hadn’t gotten pregnant yet. FP pulled out a second later and shot his liquid onto the ground beside them. He quickly put his shirt back on and pulled up his pants, feeling the cold once again. Alice put herself back together, too.
“Goodbye, Forsythe,” she smiled and left, not wanting him to walk her home. That goodbye was to her childhood and to the Southside that built her. She didn’t look back or wait to hear him say anything back.
The silence in the room was obvious because they were both reminiscing. FP was the first to speak, “Has Hal learned how to make you cum yet?”
“FP, this is serious. You didn’t wear a condom. And, well, fuck how do I even say this?” Alice stood up and bit the edge of her nail, staring at the ground.
“Just say it,” the man’s voice sounded small and scared.
“Hal and I argued because I was pregnant. I’m sure you overheard that. I gave him, the baby, up for adoption. Hal didn’t know the whole story, though, and neither did you. I was nervous about that night we had sex, because the time frame lined up, so I took a paternity test at the hospital just to make sure,” Alice explained, her chest tightening. She never thought this would be something she had to do.
FP shook his head and his face scrunched up just like Jughead’s when he was trying to hold tears in. “Say it out loud, Alice.”
“You have a son, with me, FP. We have a son,” Alice promised herself she wasn’t going to cry, she didn’t come all this way to cry, so her face went blank.
FP wasn’t afraid to cry though. His face was serious and tough, which juxtaposed the shiny tears staining his sun spotted cheeks.
“Jesus Christ, Alice. And you fucking kept this from me? I want to meet him. Bring him here,” FP demanded, his sadness quickly morphing into rage.
“I don’t know where he is. I told Betty and Polly and thanks to your other son, they found him. I caught them making plans to meet him,” Alice said.
“Jughead knows?” Sadness returned.
“No. But… Betty insisted on telling him,” Alice shrugged, “He’ll know any minute now.”
“Maybe it’s best he hears it from her,” there was a pause between the two old lovers. They never spoke of that night after it happened, and FP swore he dreamed it anyway. Alice spent less and less time at the trailer park and when they graduated she moved in with Hal right away. Gladys finally started talking to him again, admitting that she felt awkward after they had sex, but wanted to get to know him. They went in their separate directions, but now, he knew they’re paths were forever congealed. “I hate you for this.”
Alice blinked rapidly, “You should.”
Alice delicately refolded the chair and left, the only noise was FP gently sobbing into his mattress.
Jughead could tell Betty had been crying during the walk over because her cheeks were especially cold and icy when he kissed her cheek. He imagined it was about Scott, that he wanted nothing to do with his birth sisters, and left the blonde Cooper girls utterly heartbroken. But instead, she almost looked sad for him, giving him sympathetic glances as she sat down on the couch. She patted the seat next to her. Jughead took it suspiciously.
“I looked through Cheryl’s closet, the shoes are missing. We will have to take another angle,” Betty said flatly. He instantly knew this isn’t what she came for, but he played along briefly.
“Not necessarily. Those shoes missing may mean she threw them out because they had blood on them,” Jughead mused. “You should text her, maybe under the guise of wanting to borrow them, ask her where they are.”
Betty shrugged and just the act or raising her shoulder seemed difficult for her. “Worth a shot, I guess.”
She pulled out her phone and text her quickly and put it back in her jacket pocket. Silence set over the trailer. Betty wondered if this trailer where her mom and Jughead’s dad conceived Scott. She shuddered at the thought, and her boyfriend took notice. Her grabbed her hand and rubbed circles around the pulse point near her thumb.
“What did you really come here to talk about?” Jughead asked gently.
“Can I see the picture of Scott you found?” Betty inquired suddenly.
Jughead nodded and pulled the laptop from the coffee table to his lep and opened it. He tapped the keyboard swiftly, made a couple of mouse clicks, and her brother was right in front of her. Jughead angled the monitor so she could see better, and there he was. Scott had thick, black locks just like Jughead, a sharp jawline like him too. How could Jughead not see that they looked a little alike? This was so freaky. Even though Betty and Jughead weren’t related, they shared a half brother that was a mixture of both of them, much like how a child between them would look like.
“Does he look like… someone?” God, how was she supposed to say this?
“Um.. you?” He looked at her incredulous, his heart thumping. What was she getting at?
“No… you, Juggie,” Betty’s eyes watered with tears.
In the back of his mind, he knew what she could possibly be referring too, but he was still at a loss. His lip was quivering, he was about to cry, “What?”
“My mom kept this from all of us,” Betty spoke softly, “Her and FP had a one night stand in high school. Scott is your brother too.”
Jugehad’s face was twisted in horror, and he pushed the laptop on the floor and curled into Betty, his head in her lap. He started crying, sobbing even, and he clutched onto her hips so harshly purple bruises began to form there. Jughead was strong for her when she found out, and she had to be strong for him too.
“Why can’t we catch a fucking break?” Jughead cried.
“I don’t know. But we are going to be okay. And you can come with us to meet him,” Betty offered.
He nodded, his head rising and looking at her in the eyes as he continued to sniffle, “I do.” Jughead paused. “Betty, make love to me. Make this go away. I want to just me you for a few minutes. No parents, no siblings; just us.”
Jughead’s eyes were puffy but their blueness shined so brightly with tears rimming his eyes. She nodded, and undid his pants. She kissed him sweetly as she stroked him softly before he sat back, just enjoying for a moment. He wanted to get lost in the rhythm of her hand. She takes it upon herself to reach into her pants and pleasure herself and prepare for Jughead. She shimmies her pants off and slides down her panties. She was about to get on him when he shook his head.
“Let’s take all of our clothes off. I need to feel your skin,” he groaned, almost in pain.
He pulled of his shirt and Betty tugged off the rest of her garments. She sank down on him and and he gritted his teeth, so overwhelmed by the feeling of his bare cock burying inside of her. He wanted to forget everything and so he closed his eyes and held onto Betty’s hips, silently guiding her, not like she needed it. Betty rode him like never before, using each other’s bodies to get lost. Betty threw her head back and Jughead took the opportunity to plop a nipple in his mouth and bite roughly. Betty rode him until she came, and used every ounce of her energy to ride him until he did too. She collapsed into his embrace. Jughead smoothed her hair back on her sweaty forehead. He was still inside her several minutes later when she eventually got off of him and layed on the couch. He cuddled into her, her back against his bare chest. The couch had little room, but the two didn’t mind because it was just another excuse to be pressed together.
“Can I stay here, Juggie? My mom said I’m not welcome home because I wanted to tell you the truth. I just need a place to stay until this blows over,” Betty asked quietly.
Betty felt Jughead nod against her shoulder. “Anytime, Betty. You don’t even have to ask.”
When sleep stated to overcome them, Betty’s phone buzzed. It was from Cheryl. Funny you should ask, those shoes are missing. I was going to ask if you are Pol took them. The redhead ended the text with the purple devil emoji. The little symbol made her gut twist. She nudged Jughead to show him, and his head fell back.
“You’re right, it was a dead end,” Jughead sighed.
“Maybe not,” Betty mused, “who else has access to Cheryl’s closet? Before she moved in with us?”