[ of course there's a shake ( extra whipped cream and a cherry on top, too ) waiting for her when she arrives! there's not one in front of him though, which is uncharacteristic. he has a mug of coffee between his hands, warming them, half-full. almost as if he's been there for a lot longer than she has and not solely because he beat her to pop's. why, it may even appear as if archie's been camped out there with the small graveyard of empty coffee creamers and sugar packets beside him. every sentence he's formulated, every beginning of a plan, or a speech dissolves like sugar in his coffee when she sits down and immediately notices that he's not himself.

he forces a smile that's too tight around the edges. ]

Yeah. [ he agrees eventually; he's not here in this booth to keep omitting the truth. ] Something is. ..Was? I don't know. I just- there's something I have to tell you. Something that happened at home. I should have told you when we first ran into each other. I couldn't tell you when we were in Panultima. It was too dangerous. [ excuses, excuses, excuses. they stick in his throat. good. they should feel uncomfortable. that's what he tells himself, anyway. ] I'm telling you now.

[ he grips the mug firmly in his hands, willing them not to shake because he's getting these words out, one way or another. ]

Betty and I kissed. [ not she kissed me or i kissed her back. ] It doesn't even matter why, but I'm going to tell you what happened. We were broken up and so were Betty and Jughead. Everything from that night was so intense and crazy, chasing down the Black Hood, trying to save Mr. Svenson... [ archie's trying to explain something that can't be made to make sense with reason, not where feelings are involved. he leans forward, trying to catch and hold her gaze, to make sure she's listening to him. she doesn't have to be. she has every right to slap him and walk out. he's not done, but he kind of needs to know she wants to hear the rest. ]