Chapter Text
The cold air nipped at my soft flesh, making me shiver.
I scoffed as I untied the denim jacket that was tightly secured around my waist. As I pulled one of the sleeves lightly, the jacket quickly fell down, but I caught it before it could reach the concrete floor.
I took off my scarf temporarily as I pulled the jacket over my shoulders, placing my arms into the sleeves and putting the scarf on again, circling it around my neck.
The sides of my lips quivered just slightly at the newfound feeling of warmth that recovered my body, and I looked up at the building that laid upon me. It was massive, worn out red bricks formed the entire structure, making it look old. I honestly didn't care, I had spent most of my life studying here, of course I had grown fond of the place, how could I not? But there was also that part of me that dreaded this exact location, the halls that are always tightly packed with students rushing to get to their classes in time, the judging stares that follow you silently as you walk through the place.
It's scary, but it's home. A very old, rusty, conservative home.
I opened the two crystal doors that somehow have endured more than a decade here without any major damage, just some scratches that although small, are pretty goddamn visible.
I took out my pocket diary from one of the pockets in my denim jacket and also took out a pen that was located in the same spot and began writing, albeit sloppily.
Dear Diary.
First day of senior year! I think I'm a good person. Actually, I think that there's good in everyone. Every single human being Most people have the ability to change and the right to be pardoned. But I look around and see all these kids that I've grown with, shared memories with and known since I was six and ask myself, "What happened?" Perhaps it was puberty, or maybe teen angst that hit all of us like the huns invading rome.
I sighed as I nostalgically recalled all of those distant years where everyone would get along, having fun like the kids we were back then.
As I lost myself in memories and daydreams, I didn’t notice the boy that was in front of me, and I accidentally bumped into him.
“Sorry!” I muttered under my breath as I scurried away as quickly as I could.
"Get away, Nerd!" The kid hissed.
Ow, that kinda hurt. But, What can I do about It? That's just High school, eat or get eaten.
I thought nothing more about it and kept walking to my locker, eager to meet with Martha. When I arrived, I put my backpack on the floor with a thud. I opened the zipper and grabbed all of the unnecessary books that occupied most of the space, opening my locker and putting them in. I smiled as I took out a picture of me and Martha in a park, both of us giving a bright smile to the camera as I pushed her so she could swing further in the small swings that are still standing in the park near my house.
"Ah!" I let out a yelp as I felt someone tapping my shoulder, startling at the unexpected contact, worried about who it could be. Ram trying to mess with me again? Or perhaps Kurt... They're always together, you never know..
When I turned around, I sighed in relief. It wasn't Kurt nor Ram, instead, it was my best friend since diapers, Martha Dunnstock. The sweater clad girl greeted me with a huge grin, while I wrapped my arms around her in a warm and tight embrace.
"Ronnie! Feels like I haven't seen you in. Like-" She chuckled " Forever!" and ran a hand through her chocolate locks.
"C'mon, Matthie, we had a movie night last friday." I replied.
"I know!" She sighted "It just felt too long, y'know? I'm glad we'll be able to see each other practically daily." Martha let go of me, a smile tugging at the side of her lips.
I opened my mouth to reply, but the doors opened violently. Revealing three girls, one clad in red, one clad in yellow and the other one in green.They shut everyone's mouth. No one even dared to speak a word as soon as They entered the school. They strutted down the halls, majestic as always. The whole student body parted like the red sea upon their arrival. They're like goddesses, and not the Good kind. Heather Mcnamara; Head cheerleader, her dad Is loaded, he sells engagement rings. Heather Duke runs the yearbook, no discernible personality but her mom did pay for implants. And Heather Chandler; The almighty. She is a mythic bitch. They're solid Teflon, never bothered... Never Harassed I'd give anything to be like them.. Especially Chandler, she is the worst out of the three, the bitchiest one. Yet she is loved by everyone, and it isn't hard to discover why. Her looks are perfect, pristine pale skin, gorgeous silky blonde hair that shines with the sun as soon as it hits her, forming a light halo, making her look like a fallen angel despite earning the nickname of "Demon Queen of Highschool". The way she walks is mesmerizing, her hips sway with each step and she places one leg in front of the other in a model-like fashion. She uses everything she has to her advantage, and she is well aware of how she can control the entire Westerburg student body with the snap of a finger. Most people think she's a bimbo, an air headed blonde, but her manipulation tactics show that there is more than air in that pretty head of hers.
I sighed dreamily. If I'm being honest, I'm not a big fan of them, although I must admit that If I were with them, at least for one day most of my problems would stop- I wouldn't get bothered by sex deprived jocks such as Kurt and Ram, nor would I be invisible anymore. But of course, that is just a farfetched dream that will never come true. For Heather Chandler to even look at you you have to do something great, something impressive. And I have done none of those things.
I was honestly very sleepy, and didn't have the energy to hear Ms. Fleming's classes, which would normally start like any other English class, by discussing the book we were supposed to read over summer break. - That I bet none of my classmates read, although I did.- And then finding any excuse to start an intense rant about any hippie topic she wanted to talk about, it was exhausting. That woman was like a broken record by now, just repeating the same arguments over and over again, and to be honest I didn't have the willpower nor the need to put up with her boring classes, after all, being the favorite student came with certain privileges.
I grabbed my diary and opened it, ripping a page and forging a hall pass, trying my best to make it look as real and convincing as I possibly could.
As I was scribbling, lost in a trance of forging to perfection, the bell rang, making me startle, but luckily I didn’t mess up or smear my forge.
I folded it gently, placing it in my pocket and leaving my hand there, just in case. I wouldn’t want to accidentally drop it or lose it, would I? I kept walking, admiring the silence that coated the normally loud halls. The quietness of the place was louder than any party, and it gave me a sense of peace yet uneasiness, perhaps it was the extreme silence that made everything feel so loud, a pin dropping could probably be heard from miles away. The feeling of getting caught was catching up to me, until I quickly spotted the girl’s bathroom door and entered, making sure I didn’t make much sound as I closed the door.
I opened one of the stalls and quickly got in, sliding the rusty little metal cylinder into the hole, closing it, albeit I had to use a lot of force, and even then it was very squeaky, just another testament of how worn out and old Westerburg really was.
I sighed and sat on the closed toilet lid, removing the plastic trash can that was on top of it. The bathroom had probably just been cleaned.
I grabbed my diary from my pocket and started doodling mindlessly to pass the time, even writing a draft that I wouldn’t edit nor complete later.
As I lost myself in my own little world of writing and doodling, I didn’t hear how the bathroom door opened and let in three pairs of heels, one after the other, apparently bickering about something that my brain tuned out.
“Did you see her? That sweater should be considered a crime!” Heather Mcnamara squealed as she broke into a fit of giggles, the other Heathers agreeing with low hums or a barely audible “Yeah.”.
I could hear how a stall was being opened in a rush, and a pair of heels rushed into that stall, another pair trailing behind just as quickly. I overheard how knees dropped as coughing started, followed by a disgustingly detailed and long vomiting sound.
I closed my eyes as my face morphed into a grimace just from the noises, I forced myself to suppress a gag.
"Grow up, Heather, bulimia is so 2020." Heather chandler sneered mockingly, insensitive about her friend’s current puking state.
I heard what I think is McNamara scoff
I internally groaned as I realized something, there is absolutely no way I can leave without being noticed. And if I left at any
moment, the Heathers would think that I was eavesdropping on them, which I kinda am. So they would see me as a threat and bury my nonexistent reputation down a six feet hole… Not a very appealing idea. Perhaps I could hope that a teacher comes to scold us and get them out of that one.. Yeah, that’d be the best idea.
As I told myself that, I started adding The Heather's names to my forged HallPass, hoping that would be enough to be excused from social murder.
"Maybe you should see a doctor, Heather." She said tenderly, obviously preoccupied by her ill friend.
Duke sighed, "Yeah Heather, maybe I should." She replied in a tired manner before sighing, a light thud being heard, perhaps the girl dropping her head in Mcnamara’s shoulder.
The door opened and a fourth pair of heels -Albeit cheaper ones. - joined the room, groaning upon finding the three girls skipping class.
"Ah, Heather and Heather." Ms. Fleming tsked, tapping her foot rhythmically on the tiled floor. There was a beat after another noise was heard, that being duke puking once again. "And Heather. You're late for class, you know that since it isn't the first time you've done that. I won't even excuse you, not even because it is the first day of senior year. Week's detention." She huffed, threatening the color coded girls.
"Heather wasn't feeling well! We're helping her." Chandler excused them, letting some drip annoyance into her tone as she stiffened a smile.
"If you want to help her so much you could spend your time going to the doctor with her instead of going to those parties." Ms. Fleming quipped, chuckling to herself.
I quickly tried to open the bathroom stall, struggling to open it due to the rustiness of the lock, but eventually managing to get out. I rushed to be in between Ms. Fleming and The Heathers.
"Actually we- we’re all out on a hall pass." I moved my finger circularly, gesturing towards the Heathers and I. "Yearbook committee." I finished, lending the hall pass to Ms. Fleming so she could inspect it.
Ms. Fleming eyed it a bit, looking at it with disbelief. My stomach was spinning, if my forgery wasn't enough I might get detention Or maybe not since I would be a first time offender. But either way, that would damage my perfect student reputation, and I need that for Harvard.
She sighed with irritation, massaging the bridge of her nose as she handed me the hall pass back, giving me a soft smile before looking back at the three girls behind me.
"Fine, but finish whatever you are doing quickly, I don't want students wandering in the halls when the classes started ten minutes ago." She turned around and left with an audible huff, the sound of the clacking of her heels becoming muffled taps as she went further away.
Heather Chandler herself grabbed my hand and spun me around, seemingly inspecting my appearance before snatching the hall pass out of my hands and looking at it judgingly before passing it on to Mcnamara, whom’s mouth formed a little 'o' shape upon seeing the forgery, perhaps impressed by it. Then she handed it to Duke, who just looked at it stoically, giving a hum that I couldn’t for the life of me discern what it meant.
"Who are you?" The red clad girl hissed, cocking her hips and placing one of her hands on them, then proceeding to stare at her nails.
“Veronica; Sawyer..” I immediately straightened my posture and swiped my sweaty hand in my dress, hopefully wiping off the sweat. I put my hand out, waiting for the other girl to shake it. When that didn’t happen I retreated and stood there.
I could feel how Chandler was looking me up and down, from head to toe, eyeing me up, looking for any mistake, any imperfection that lived within me. Her stare pierced my soul and stared through it, her face deadpan, not showing any kind of emotion as she inspected me. Eventually, she grabbed my face softly, putting her index finger and her thumb in my chin, moving my head from side to side, scrutinizing me from different angles. Chandler let out an approving hum as she freed my face,
“You need a makeover.” The strawberry blonde stated, the nod she gave was barely noticeable.
I was puzzled. I hadn’t expected this outcome at all, but it’s not like I couldn’t say no.. After all, if I did, that would be social suicide. I just muttered a soft “okay.” Under my breath, unsure if the Heathers had heard me.
“Heather, lipstick. Heather, give me your makeup bag!” The Queen Bee demanded, Duke and Mac instantly obeyed, and somehow they even understood which one of them she was referring to.
I was instructed to sit on a closed toilet lid, and I complied, immediately sitting and waiting for them to find everything they’d need for my makeover.
Heather Chandler started softly applying makeup to my face, and I couldn't help but stare at her face, the way her eyebrows furrowed in concentration and her tongue peeked out of her mouth a tiny bit, allowing me to see just a small pink fleshy bit. It was obvious even to someone that didn’t know a lot of stuff about makeup that she was wearing blush by the way her cheeks were always coated a soft crimson, and I couldn’t help but find it cute.
When she finally pulled apart, she gestured for the two Heathers to come with a beckoning motion. The other two quickly scurried and stood by her side, portraying completely different facial expressions. Mcnamara had a grin plastered on her face as she clasped her hands, clearly excited or perhaps proud. Duke had her arms crossed and she looked as stoic as always, although the sides of her lips quivered almost unnoticeably upon seeing me. Heather had a proud smirk on, clearly pleased with the results.
“Well, Sawyer.. You can’t be with us wearing that, can you?” She chuckled, gesturing to my clothes, which I must admit, were nothing compared to all the blazers and short skirts the other girls were wearing. If I’m being honest, I looked like a grandma.
Everything turned into a blur as I was being dragged out by the Heathers, not even aware of my surroundings. Before I could even protest, Chandler and I were already outside of her candy red porsche. I could see how Duke and Mac walked the other direction, most likely to Heather’s Jeep. I got into the passenger’s seat, upon not getting scolded for getting there I stayed, waiting for Heather to get onto it. When she finally did, she quickly shoved the key into the starter cylinder, the engine roaring to life as soon as she did that.
The ride to Heather’s house was uncomfortable to say the least, it was very silent. The only sound that was there the whole ride was a pop music station that just played the most popular songs of the moment, which annoyed Veronica to death, but she wouldn’t even dare to change the station because Heather seemed to like it judging from the little smile she had the entire ride.
As we stopped in Chandler’s driveway I couldn’t help but feel pure amazement, Heather’s house was big. It stood out from every other house in the neighborhood even though this was the best one in all of Sherwood, Ohio. She had many statues and bushes cut into various forms decorating the entrance to her house, and two giant wooden doors with golden accents that reminded you of just how rich the Chandlers were. The girl grabbed the key to the main entrance and opened the door.
The house was deadly silent as they entered, their steps echoed all around the place. This didn’t feel like the cozy yet giant home I expected, this felt more like a well decorated massive dungeon where if you spent more than necessary alone you’d go crazy. The stairs creaked softly as we walked upstairs. When we finally got to Heather’s room after what felt like an eternity, she entered. Being honest, that was more of the cozy place Veronica expected. It felt very Heather-like. The rooms were painted red, and a giant king bed rested in the corner of the room, right besides the window with beautiful crimson curtains and a nightstand with a peach colored lamp on top of it, it also had a copy of The Bell Jar, something that caught Veronica off guard, not expecting the queen bee to be a fan of literature.
I heard a little beep, and then I realized that Heather had turned on the air conditioner, and since I was positioned right where the air would go, I felt a cool breeze of air hit me, chills running down my spine as the unexpected cold nipped at my skin.
I sat on her bed carefully, not wanting the duvet to wrinkle, admiring the gorgeously decorated room in complete awe. After some time, Duke and Mac opened the door and the two girls entered, finally joining us.
As if they were communicating by telepathy, the three girls immediately went into Chandler’s walk-in closet, probably looking for an outfit that fit their standards.
“Heather, why?” Duke questioned, raising an eyebrow as she stared at Chandler like she had lost her mind for letting someone like Veronica join them. She didn’t want to seem too challenging, but if it was up to her, she would’ve yelled.
“Why not?” Chandler shrugged as she went through racks of clothes, looking for something that would fit the girl that was currently waiting for them.
“She doesn’t look like she can handle all of this.” Duke scoffed almost silently, giving Mac a pleading glance, hoping the girl would somehow back her up.
McNamara cleared her throat awkwardly. "Well, if we add her, wouldn't people think that we are adding random people?" McNamara sheepishly said, fidgeting with the hem of her skirt nervously.
"Or maybe they'll see our power, see that we can make nobody a somebody with the snap of a finger." Candler replied with a smirk as she gave a proud huff, the girl disinterested in her friend’s worries or critiques.
Duke didn’t want to push the topic any further and Mcnamara was already wary about it, so no one dared to speak another word about it.
As Mac was digging for some clothes that she thought may fit their standards, she found a particularly pretty blue blazer that would fit with a gray skirt that she had thrown somewhere in the closet because she couldn’t find something that would go with it.
A small grin was plastered on her face as she grabbed the blazer and the skirt, showing them to the other two girls
“I found these, whatcha think?” She chirped, Chandler giving an approving nod and Duke giving a barely noticeable smile.
“It 's nice.. It’ll work.” Chandler said, taking the articles of clothing from Mac’s hands and going out.
The unexpected sound that came with the door opening caused me to startle, sighing in relief when I saw that The Heathers had finally stepped out of that closet.
“Sawyer, we found clothes that will fit you.” The red clad girl announced, showing me the clothes as she held them in her hands.
“Okay. Thanks.. Where can I try them on?” I asked, not wanting the judging eyes of the three girls watching me as I changed, probably and most likely criticizing every single inch on my less than perfect body.
“The bathroom, it’s right there.” Chandler said, pointing to a closed door.
“Thanks.” I replied, quickly scurrying to the specified room.
I arrived at the bathroom, closing the door behind me. I stripped my old clothes, they pooled at my feet. I grabbed the blazer first, looking at it before putting it on. I grabbed the skirt, pulling it up my legs, doing the same with the socks I walked to the full-body mirror that was in the bathroom. A bright smile lit up my entire face as I stared at myself in the mirror. For one of the first times in my life I felt truly beautiful, I spun around, watching as the short miniskirt flew with the air in the direction I spun. I giggled at that.
When I opened the bathroom door, I was met with the three Heathers staring at me. These stares didn’t feel judging or mean, but rather proud and even somewhat comforting, they seemed to like how I looked right now.
"You don't look that bad for an ex-nobody," Chandler stated as she cocked her hips, placing one of her hands on them as she smirked proudly. "Perhaps you're more of a somebody-to-be." Chandler corrected herself with a chuckle as she looked directly at my eyes. I couldn’t help but stare at those beautiful pools of mesmerizing blue? Or were they gray?.. I didn’t know, still, I was being consumed by that gorgeous shade of whatever color they were..
Before I was fully consumed by my daydreaming, I snapped out of it as Mcnamara chirped. “Well, I think it's time to motor!” The girl said with a giggle as she turned around, walking with a characteristic bounce in her step to Chandler’s door, perhaps eager to get out of this house and its loud silence.
The other two Heathers followed Mcnamara’s path, also leaving. I didn’t have any choice except to go after them, trailing hot behind their tails.
We followed the same arrangement, me with Chandler and Duke with Mac. Honestly, that didn’t bother me as much as it did last time. Now the radio was playing some songs I actually enjoyed, and I found myself humming silently some of their tunes in our speechless car ride. Perhaps this is going to be better than I initially thought, who knows.. Perhaps I could even befriend Mcnamara, she seems like the nicest out of the three. Duke seems really indifferent about every single thing and Chandler.. Chandler feels nicer than I thought, although I don’t think I should keep my hopes too high up.