OVER THE COURSE OF NEXT FEW DAYS, Marla and Betty haven't spoken to each other. They avoided each other as best they could and Marla picked up extra shifts at La Bonne Nuit to keep from seeing Betty.

     When the two were in Newspaper alongside Jughead, they all buried their heads into their work so they wouldn't have to speak to one another. And instead of eating lunch, Marla would take a walk around the school and take pictures of whatever she could find.

     When it came to Gryffins and Gargoyles, however, Betty and Marla would send short messages back and forth about what the other found. They tried their best to keep it at that, but whenever tried to talk about something else, Marla would steer the conversation back to its original topic.

     bets: can we please talk about something else? this g&g stuff is starting to drive me crazy

     mars: no, bets. remember what we talked about in the car

     bets: can't be that bad. you called me bets

     mars: force of habit

     And that was that. Then they went back to talking about Gryffins and Gargoyles. Until Betty sent a fair question.

     bets: if we're not supposed to be talking, then why are we texting?

     mars: less emotional this way. can't really read emotions through text like face 2 face

    The next text Betty sent was enough for Marla to burn up from head to toe and make her skin jolt: bets: can u read emotions thru sexting?

mars: betty !! you can't just send things like that !! what if someone were to see it ???

bets: then delete it. jughead and i are broken up, anyway. i've got no shame

mars: clearly

bets: you know you love me

Marla left it at that because she did love Betty. She really did.

The next Saturday night was Marla's shift at La Bonne Nuit. She saw the regulars that came in and some new faces she hadn't seen before.

It was official that Reggie had quit working so Marla was the bartender now, while someone else took her place as a server. It was quite hot in the speakeasy that night (probably due to all the body heat) so Marla had to pop a button on her work shirt to let her skin breathe as best it could.

"I'll have a whiskey neat, light on the ice. A bit more whiskey, a bit less water. I heard that this place could be a little stingy."

Marla looked up from cleaning glasses to see Betty sitting at the bar. Her hair was down and curled, she was in something that the little lingerie boutique near Marla's house might've had, a leather jacket, and a pair of high-waisted jeans.

"Expressing your newfound freedom?" Marla asked as she started on Betty's order. "As should any woman after they've gone through a messy breakup," Betty remarked flirtatiously as she flipped her hair.

Marla gave her a once over, taking in the outfit. "I see you've been digging through your mom's high school wardrobe." She reached out to touch the strap of the bustier. "Vintage?"

"Brand new, actually," Betty answered as the strap snapped back. "The jeans are vintage. In true mom jean fashion." She rested her legs on the seats and Marla peered over so she could see. There were gashes in the knees and she took notice of the fishnet stockings peeking through.

"Why the one-eighty?" Marla asked as she slid the drink over to Betty. "I wanted to try something new," Betty answered as she took the drink. "I was getting tired of looking like the girl next door. The whole goody-two-shoes attitude was getting me nowhere with this case."

"So you wanted to look like the girl who talked about how she was born in the wrong generation and how she should've ended up with Kurt Cobain?"

Betty smacked Marla's forearm playfully. "You love it."

"As a matter of fact, I do," Marla breathed, then reached out to touch the bustier again. "Can I borrow this sometime?"

"Think it'll fit?" Betty raised an eyebrow at her. Marla touched the blouse she was wearing. "This is your shirt, right?"

"I knew it looked familiar! When'd you even get it?"

"That Sunday morning before. . .everything happened. I was running out of work shirts and I knew you wouldn't care since you lived in sweaters and a detachable Peter Pan collar. I figured you wouldn't notice."

     There was a silence between them as Betty took a sip of her drink. She pulled it back and raised an eyebrow. "You watered it down."

     "Sweetheart, you are sitting in an illegal speakeasy where you, a minor, are being served watered-down alcohol. If I'm getting into any trouble, the only trouble I'm getting into is because I was working here as a server."

     "Didn't you make me this drink?" Betty shook the ice in the glass to get Marla's attention. "Looks like you're gonna get into a bit of trouble for more than just working here." There was a wicked smirk that spread across Betty's face as she finished off her drink.

     Marla leaned over the bar to get close to Betty's face. Her voice was low as she said, "I know you're not gonna take this to the R P D because you wouldn't rat Veronica out like that. So I'd think a little before I'd say anything."

     "Oh, I'm not gonna tell anyone," Betty's voice was the same decibel, "I just wanted to shake you a little."

      Marla scoffed. "You couldn't shake me even if I had a gun to my head." There was a moment's pause before she spoke again. "You know, we're really bad at the whole 'no-talking-to-each-other' thing."

     "I'm not bad at it. You are. You started it."

     "Who's the one that walked in asking for a whiskey neat with a little less water?" Marla leaned off the counter because it was starting to hurt her ribs. Betty didn't say anything because Marla knew she had her stumped. She rooted around in her bag. "How much for the drink?"

     "It's on the house."

Marla was breathless.

     "We're really, really. . .really bad at keeping our hands off each other," she said when she pulled herself away from Betty's mouth. The two of them were in the office, the door was locked and the blind was pulled down for privacy.

     "That's when you know it's meant to be." Betty smiled before reconnecting their lips.