Chapter Text
Heather couldn’t decide whether or not Duncan was a good or bad influence on Courtney, but one thing was for certain: Duncan was under the influence. As was Geoff, and Bridgette was a bit more giggly than usual. Courtney, DJ, and herself were the only sober ones in the group. They stood and chatted about Geoff’s upcoming party.
Heather had been to a few of Geoff’s infamous parties before but usually with Lindsay, Courtney never liked these sorts of events. But last time, Lindsay had run off with Tyler the moment they arrived, so Heather was stuck by herself. She drifted around the house moving from group to group, but none of them seemed to welcome her. Heather ended up sitting on the couch by herself, sipping a drink and scrolling through her phone. Over the past few months, Heather felt more and more detached from her old friends as they started dating and hanging out with different people. Heather felt like a captain standing at the bow of their sinking ship while all the passengers had fled to lifeboats.
Heather was lost in her own thoughts for who knows how long, when suddenly DJ tapped on her shoulder.
“Hey, you look kinda out of it. Do you want me to get you some water?” he offered with concern in his eyes.
Heather shook her head, “I’ll go on my own, but thanks.” She made her way to the restroom. Standing in front of the mirror, hands gripping the sink, she stared into her reflection. She felt her heart beat in time with the pounding bass of whatever muffled pop song was playing on the dance floor. It all felt surreal, empty. Heather desperately wanted to splash her face with cold water, but her makeup would be ruined. Instead, she settled for combing a shaky hand through her hair.
The surge of cold air and loud music from the bathroom door opening removed Heather from her trance, and she quickly turned on the tap to act like she was washing her hands. Two girls in matching pink dresses, Katie and Sadie, walked in laughing loudly. Heather shot them a glare through her reflection, and she could see their flushed faces in the mirror. She was not happy about the interruption. She was having a moment . Katie and Sadie stopped giggling for a second before resuming at a lower volume.
Heather exited the bathroom not really knowing where she was headed. She thought about going back to her group, but she noticed that Leshawna and Gwen had joined. They were not people she wanted to talk to, and they surely wouldn’t want to talk to her. Heather found herself next to the refreshment table. Picking up a cup of water, she took a large swig. The not quite cold, not quite lukewarm water was wholly unsatisfying.
Now that Leshawna and Gwen had moved on, she walked back to her group with the cup in hand.
DJ was the first to acknowledge her, “Feeling better?”
“Meh, not really,” Heather confessed, “I think I might leave early.” This caught the attention of the others.
“You sure?”
“Are you still coming to the party?”
She shrugged. She didn’t want to tell them how she felt like a stranger, like she didn’t belong in their group, so she just said bye and walked off.
Maybe she still had one companion. She glanced at the group of mathletes who were standing near the edge of the room. She and Harold made eye contact, and Harold excused himself from the group to approach her.
“Hey, I need a ride,” Heather whispered as she leaned against Harold’s side.
“Home?”
“Anywhere you want.”
Heather felt Harold tense a little, “Of course, m’lady,” but if he was nervous, his voice didn’t show it.
They walked to Harold’s car with arms practically glued together and hands brushing every few steps. The faint music and quiet of the early night was punctuated by the clicking of Heather’s heels.
They settled into Harold’s car when he broke the silence, “Why do you want to leave?”
“I was getting bored, and there’s no point in staying. We already know Courtney’s gonna win - no thanks to you rigging the votes,” Heather punched Harold’s arm lightly.
“Hey, it’s the least I can do for you,” Harold smiled and tentatively reached over. His hand had barely inched onto the center console before Heather grabbed it and placed it on her thigh.
They sat there for a bit in silence.
“Give me your phone,” Heather held the hand that wasn’t holding Harold’s toward him.
Heather scrolled for a moment before commenting, “You’ve added more songs.”
“Yeah,” Harold breathed, “for you,” he added more quietly, “for us.”
“Hmm, what was that last part?” Heather knew what he said, but oh how she wanted to hear it again. She closed her eyes and leaned closer, still facing forward.
Harold turned toward Heather’s relaxed form and tried to steady himself. A difficult task considering just how hyper aware he was of his hand on her leg. His palm was probably getting sweaty. Oh gosh, what if Heather could feel him sweating through her dress? The words came out in a rasp, barely above a whisper. “For us,” he murmured into her hair, her soft, sleek hair that tickled his lips as Heather turned to face him.
Heather pressed play on Harold’s sex playlist and set his phone down. She brought her hand up behind his head, running her fingers through his hair - it was just long enough that she could grab and pull on it - and she tried to pull him closer. But before their lips met, Harold was yanked back by an invisible force. The fucking seatbelt.
She let out a breathy laugh as Harold fumbled with the seatbelt. Harold with his love of math, his asthmatic lungs, his cramped little blue car that now felt more comforting than constricting, his illegible handwriting, his raspy voice, his surprisingly high self confidence, his playlist that started it all, his everything . Gosh, he was perfect .
Without the restriction of a seatbelt, they were free to get much closer. Harold’s right hand snaked up from her thigh to rest on Heather’s lower back as his left hand tucked her hair behind her ear and stroked her jawline. Heather had one hand gripping the lapel of Harold’s jacket pulling his body against hers, and her other hand was back in his hair pulling his face towards hers.
Their lips met softly at first, with Harold’s stubble lightly tickling like little pinpricks. Heather parted her mouth in a small sigh, and Harold loosened his grip on her lower back and let his right hand fall lower.
Oh baby just,
Heather deepened the kiss as she yanked on Harold’s tie and roughly ruffled his hair. Harold let out a gasp and cupped Heather’s ass tightly, scooting her closer.
Breathe on me,
They broke apart and Heather climbed over the center console and onto Harold's lap, straddling him. Quickly catching her breath, she leaned into another kiss, this one more desperate and needy.
We don’t need to touch,
Heather pulled away, lips lingering on Harold’s jaw. They stared at each other with half lidded eyes, both breathing heavily. Harold was the one with asthma, but Heather was just as breathless.
Just breathe.