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Chapter Text

“Hi, I’m Veronica Sawyer and I’m a recluse and I’m here because my parents are under a huge misconception about my lack of friends,” she said flatly before sitting down and opening her notebook.

Dear Diary,

Mom and Dad got concerned and instead of confronting me decided to confront you instead. Turns out sharp sardonic wit isn’t good for parents worried their recluse daughter might be suicidal. Now I’m at a special program for “at risk teens” all summer instead of not leaving my room unless the house is on fire.

The girl to her right stood up next. She was immaculate. She wore a red sweater over a plain white dress, her strawberry blonde hair was perfectly curled into tight ringlets held back with a red scrunchie, and there wasn’t a thread or strand or hair out of place. “I’m Heather Chandler and I’m hear because my therapist told my parents to and they don’t want to deal with me. But I guess I’m supposed to say I don’t have a healthy mental image of myself and have suicidal thoughts.” Heather put “suicidal thoughts” in air quotes before sitting down.

Joining me is mythic bitch with secret insecurities, Heather Chandler.

A girl in a light-yellow sundress that matched her golden locks stood up across from Veronica. “That’s funny, er, well- I mean my name’s Heather McNamara. Um, I took one too many Zoloft so I’m here for overdose.” “Overdoes” like “suicidal thoughts” was in air quotes.

Airhead second popular girl head cheerleader, Heather McNamara.

“I guess I have to go next,” the girl to Veronica’s left said, standing. “I’m Heather Duke, I have an eating disorder and I passed out because I went three days without eating anything and I’m severely underweight.” Underweight she was, Heather’s arms were practically bone and her green skirt was synched in so much that Veronica was sure she could fit Heather’s red scrunchie around her waist.

And the lacky token ethnic friend, Heather Duke. She’s the one who runs the year book. Dear God, there’s three Heathers. If that doesn’t make you want to vomit I don’t know what else would.

“I guess as the last girl, I’ll go,” a heavy-set girl in a pink hoodie announced after Heather sat down. “My name’s Martha Dunstock. I received letters at school telling me to kill myself because I was ugly and fat so my parents got worried and now I’m here.” Martha finished with fake enthusiasm, even giving her arms a little swing and a thumbs up. Veronica instantly liked her.

Martha Dunstock, the person with the biggest heart here. Too bad that doesn’t count for anything.

“Kurt Kelly.”

“Ram Sweeney.”

The two boys sitting adjacent to Veronica said at the same time. “I’m here because my coached pushed me too hard as quarterback for college reps and I ended up passing out during a game. Also, I apparently have anxiety.” Kurt started.

“And my dad thinks I’m at a conversion therapy thing instead. It’s bad at home.” Ram finished.

“We were both labeled at risk teens by the school counselor,” they said simultaneously.

The toxic masculinity football superstars: Ram Sweeney; third year as linebacker and eighth year of smacking lunch trays, and Kurt Kelly; smartest guy on the football team.

“You act like you already know each other,” Heather remarked, brushing an imaginary piece of dust off her sweater, her nails painted matching red.

Ram grabbed Kurt’s hand. “Boyfriends, but we go to different schools so don’t tell the therapist or whatever.” Kurt squeezed his boyfriend’s hand back.

Who are secretly gay.

“Don’t tell them I snuck all of my makeup in,” Heather bartered, moving to straighten out her starched and pressed skirt of her dress.

Heather’s already broken the rule and smuggled in contraband. Guess what it is? Makeup obviously. We were barely allowed to take any of our personal belongings. Literally one outfit for each day of the week. People say the popular girls aren’t good at math, but no, they’re going to know exactly how many different clothing combinations will make a technically different outfit down to the hairbands they brought.

“I didn’t think we could bring journals either,” Heather noted timidly, twirling her blonde hair absentmindedly around her finger.

“Nope,” Veronica popped her ‘p’, as she went back to date her entry.

“Hey, what’s your deal, trench coat kid?” a voice asked, catching everyone’s attention. It was the boy directly across from Veronica. He was indeed wearing a trench coat and had a smirk on his face insinuating he was possibly planning to kill everyone while they slept.

And lastly we have psycho trench coat kid, he smiles like a cat about to knock something off a table.

“Fine,” Heather said, brushing a curl behind her shoulder. “What’s your name and why are you here?”

“Aren’t you that Jason Dean kid the nurses were talking about? The one who cut just a little too deeply last time?” The boy continued, a few of them winced at the mention of cutting. Veronica looked at him curiously, for once not immediately going back to writing. “Doesn’t look like much a Jason though, should probably call him JD or he’ll punch my lights out.”

And he talks in third person, he’s going to kill us all.

“Well now that we’re finished with these useless introductions we were required to do, I’m going back to my room.” Heather announced, standing up and readjusting her sweater.

“You said you brought your make up?” Heather asked eagerly, jumping up, her yellow dress fluttering lightly with every movement.

Already the Heathers are off to do their make up already.

“And my curlers,” Heather added proudly.

“Curlers?” Heather look at both of them, her wavy black hair swaying like water down her back.

And their hair.

“I brought a brush and a few combs?” Martha tried to say helpfully. To Veronica’s surprise, Heather gestured for her to come with them.

Surprise, surprise, they’ve invited Martha to join them. I’ll need to keep an eye on them to make sure they don’t crush her.

Veronica looked up when Heather didn’t walk off, realizing she was waiting for her to ask to join as well.

Do I look like the type of person to join the mean popular girls who rule the school?

Heather took it as an answer and walked off, the other girls following her. Ram and Kurt got up a moment later, leaving her alone with JD.

Lucky me, Heather didn’t drag me off but now I’m stuck with Jason Dean. He’s smiling too much for my liking and he won’t say anything either, he just keeps smiling like he’s amused by something. Obviously that something is my, but what is it that he’s amused by?

“Hey, cute boy, why do you keep grinning at me like that?” JD spoke after a minute.

Veronica glanced up at him for a second. “I don’t know if I’d call myself cute, but you really want to know why I’m staring?” she answered, deciding to play his game.

He’s trying to engage with me and he’s still doing that weird third person thing. I don’t really know how to explain it. It’s like he’s talking as you to him but at the same time you can tell he’s talking to you. It’s the rhetorical thing people do when they’re miffed you’re ignoring them or when you don’t answer them, except he’s not just being sarcastic.

Her response seemed to interest JD as he sat up straight and uncrossed his arms. “Is it because I keep writing in my journal, even while having a conversation, and won’t make proper eye contact?” his voice dripped with slight mockery while his eyes flashed with interest.

“Maybe I should stop trying to elicit unwanted conversation,” Veronica shot back.

“I wouldn’t be talking to you if I didn’t want to,” he pointed out.

“I don’t know, you’re a really small girl all alone in a room with me, a kid in a psych ward wearing a trench coat,” she easily rebuttaled.

He gives off a weird nonthreatening vibe, but at the same time I swear he’s plotting my death in his head. How can someone be nonthreatening and untrustworthy at the same time?

“So am I scared of you, then?” he asked, his voice had changed, it was softer like he genuinely cared to know if he scared her.

“Should I be?” she asked breaking the charade. Her voice was barely above a whisper as she dared to peak up at him again. He’d leaned over his lap in interest, chin resting on his hand, elbow resting on his knee.

“I don’t think you’ve given me a reason to be,” his voice had lost its snark despite the continuation of the third person.

Does he naturally talk in third person? Is that how mental he is? You’d think he’d stop if he were truly serious about something. It feels like a game, like he’s prodding you for answers. The way he has to assume and ask questions for you, it makes me uneasy.

“You shouldn’t be so presumptuous,” Veronica closed her notebook and stood up. JD looked a little put out and she wondered if it was because she was finally leaving or if she’d officially quit the unspoken game they were playing when she went back to speaking like a normal person. “Psycho trench coat kid who talks in weird third person,” she reiterated.

“I think I sound like the presumptuous one now, considering I don’t really know anything about you,” JD said getting up, he sounded more dejected than Veronica would have thought. Veronica stuck her chin up and retired to her room, Heather’s room must’ve been right next to hers because she could hear giggling through the wall.

God, I can’t believe he would accuse me of being the presumptuous one. Maybe I don’t know his whole life story, but could he not see how wearing a trench coat to a psych ward wouldn’t cause assumptions?  Maybe, JD, if you didn’t want to be tagged as someone who’d blow up a school, you wear different attire to a psychiatric ward and don’t talk in third person.

There was another giggle. Veronica was tempted to go and see what exactly was going on and make sure Heather hadn’t done something awful to Martha.

I’ve given in, I’m going to go join the Heathers and make sure they haven’t tied Martha to a chair or something worse. There’s no point staying in my room, it’s not really my room anyway. There’s no personalization. There’s not even any real privacy. They have to be able to see in our room at all times, there’s a little porthole window on each of our doors so they can look in if they really need to. I think it just let’s the male nurses and psychos like JD creep on us while we sleep.

Veronica sighed and went to the room next to hers, bracing herself as she knocked on the door.

Chapter Text

Heather answered the door with a smug look on her face. “Well, well, look who finally decided to join us,” she taunted.

“I came to make sure you hadn’t murdered Martha and gotten us all in trouble already,” Veronica clarified, holding her notebook protectively to her chest.

“Martha’s fine,” Heather rolled her eyes, stepping aside to let Veronica in. Martha, at the moment, was perfectly fine like Heathered claimed. She was sitting on the bed while Heather did her make up and Heather’s bony fingers curled her hair. Martha let out a giggle as the blonde girl tickled her face with a brush.

“Hold still,” Heather whined, her golden hair falling over her shoulders.

“I’m trying,” Martha giggled again.

“You’re going to make me mess up,” Heather threatened as she pinned another curl.

“See?” Heather asked rhetorically. “Now sit down while I do your hair,” she commanded.

“My hair?” Veronica questioned incredulously.

“You won’t have to close your eyes and I assume you’re going to want to continue writing whatever condescending judgements you have in your diary that you snuck in,” Heather explained exasperated.

“What are you going to do to my hair?” Veronica was still suspicious.

“Well, Heather’s using my curlers, and my pins for Martha, so looks like you’ll have to deal with braids.” Heather pointed to the curlers rolled up in Heather’s black hair and the bowl of pins she was using for Martha.

“Christ Heather, how much contraband do you have?” Veronica swore.

Heather smirked, “You let them get distracted by a flat iron and you can get away with anything. I would have brought my nail polish too if they hadn’t been checking for liquids.”

Veronica sat down like she was instructed and let Heather begin to brush her hair. She didn’t really know what could be done with her hair, as short as it was, but also didn’t really care. Nor did she care if Heather looked over her shoulder and saw what she was writing, the girl had already guessed what type of stuff was going in her diary anyway.

Martha’s fine, astonishingly. Heather is doing her makeup while Heather is doing her hair. And I’m getting my hair slowly ripped out of my head by the demon queen of high school.

“I am not pulling that hard, you’re a pussy,” Heather objected.

“So Veronica,” Marth asked eagerly, Heather had finished her makeup and was now helping pin the rest of her hair up. “What did you do while you were gone? Did you go exploring? I think we should find the kitchen next.”

“I bet she stayed and talked to Jesse James,” Heather mused, tilting Veronica’s head forward before she could answer for herself.

“I did,” Veronica confirmed irritably, “he’s weird. That third person thing? He doesn’t stop, it’s like how he speaks naturally.”

Since when did I become such a gossip? here I am talking to these girls I’ve just met like we’re all best friends at a sleepover discussing boys.

“I think maybe he’s just lonely,” Martha said cheerfully, Veronica was mildly confused how she could sound cheerful about it. “Maybe we should invite him to join us.”

“Invite the kid who would bring a gun to school to join us in doing each other’s make up?” Veronica could feel Heather’s eyebrow raise.

“We don’t know anything about him, just that he’s here for cutting. And that’s actually pretty sad.” Martha pointed out, making Veronica pause.

“Funny, he said the same thing,” Veronica said, though not sounding amused. “About no knowing him. At the very least we’d know what type of guy he is.”

“Fine,” Heather relented, as she did something that felt like tying a knot in Veronica’s hair. “We’ll go after hair is finished.”

“Ooohhh, I can’t wait to see what I look like,” Martha gushed. “Do you think I’ll finally be beautiful?”

“Martha you’re already beautiful,” Heather said, as she gave another yank Veronica could feel all the way down to her skull. “You’ll just finally look it.”

I have to admit, Heather did a nice job on my hair.

Veronica admired herself in the mirror one last time.

Maybe she should become a beautician, my hair looks like it’s been braided into a crown of flowers. No way this wouldn’t be popular for prom.

“Beauty is pain, honey. I take it you like it?” Heather inquired as she reapplied her red lipstick. Heather was wrapping her and Martha’s curls in a headscarf while Heather brushed up her own makeup.

“It’s very, Heather, I’ll give you that,” Veronica admitted.

“We should get some celebratory ice cream!” Heather chirped, putting Heather’s makeup away and spinning in a twirl of yellow skirts. Martha agreed clapping her hands excitedly.

“You guys can go on ahead, I’ll clean up,” Heather offered, collecting the remaining hair pins and putting them in a baggie.

“No, you’re coming too,” Heather said in a way that sounded like a snapping fingers command. “Come on, Heather, you need to know where the kitchen is. Maybe we’ll find some frozen yogurt.”

Heather looked apprehensive as she played with the hem of her skirt but nodded.

“Maybe they’ll have mind ice cream, it’d match your skirt,” Martha tried.

“No that would be very,” Veronica said, pointing to Martha in agreement.

They all followed Heather, who had taken role as designated line leader somehow, into the kitchen. Veronica had slight suspicion on how the girl knew where everything was, or maybe it was special powers that came from that red scrunchie.

Perhaps fittingly, JD was already in the kitchen. He didn’t appear to be doing anything sitting at one of the bar stools. “Greetings and salutations,” he said to all four of them with a two fingered salute.

“Hi I’m Martha!” Martha said eagerly, waving back at him. A look crossed JD’s face like he was watching a kitten play with a piece of string.

“What are you doing in the kitchen?” he asked, and Veronica started to think maybe he’d talk in first person this time. “Aren’t you supposed to be in your room silently plotting our deaths?” he looked straight at Heather, who gave an indignant huff in response. Veronica took a seat at another bar stool.

Ran into JD in the kitchen, what are the odds? Still doing that weird game. Martha’s trying to make a friend out of him. Maybe she had a point about at least going through the motions of inviting him.

“I bet you’re all wondering what I’m doing in the kitchen all by my lonesome,” Veronica murmured.

JD looked at her with fascination, like he had when she’d played his game earlier. “Any particular reason you’re eating ice?” he answered.

“Yes there is, let me tell you,” Veronica watched him out of the corner of her eye as Heather dug around the freezer for ice cream. Heather got spoons and Heather got bowls. Martha took a seat next to Veronica, possibly oblivious to the tension in the room.

“I bet it’s a coping mechanism,” he explained. “A way to hurt yourself without causing any actual harm.”

“Want to know if it works?” she continued, if JD had a problem with her pressing, she was sure he would deflect or simply walk away.

Instead he shrugged, “Even if it doesn’t it’s all you’ve got.”

“Found some ice cream!” Heather announced proudly in a sing-song manner, waving the container victoriously in the air. “And look, mint chocolate chip.”

“What’s the serving size, and what are the calories per serving?” Heather asked, clutching the spoons with a white-knuckle grasp.

“Early dessert,” Heather reasoned, handing out the bowls. She looked apprehensively at JD before offering him one as well.

“I figured, if you are plotting our deaths, I should be nice to you so maybe you’ll reconsider me,” he remarked, accepting the bowl. Heather looked away uneasily.

Have you ever heard of someone being snarky after being offered ice cream?

“Hey, she offered you a bowl, be grateful,” Heather snapped, opening the tub of ice cream.

Does he have something against ice cream?

At that moment Kurt and Ram also decided to walk into the kitchen. “Are you guys having an ice cream party and didn’t invite us?” Ram asked, sounding genuine.

Everyone’s here, now it’s truly a party like Ram said.

“No, but would you like some ice cream?” Martha asked.

“Sweet!” Ram exclaimed, getting two more bowls out while Heather divvied out spoons.

JD’s watching us all with eyes lit up like a Christmas tree and he’s not saying anything. You know what they say, no one plans a murder out loud.

“We only have one carton, so don’t eat all of it, you jocks,” Heather warned, dishing out her and Heather’s ice cream before passing it to Heather.

“Oh, well they can have mine if we don’t have enough-” Heather tried but was cut off by Heather.

“No, eat your ice cream, it matches your skirt. If Kurt and Ram are that big of pigs than they can find something else,” her red nails tapping against the bowl.

“Oh! Veronica, Heather, Heather, Heather, and I were wondering if you guys wanted to join us for hair and makeup.” Martha said as she received her bowl.

“Hair?” Kurt questioned, running a hand through his own.

“So you’re not opposed to the makeup?” Heather teased.

Ram shrugged. “Why would we be? Sounds fun.”

I’m going to try not to get ice cream on you. Kurt and Ram have agreed to come do makeup with us, who would have thought? JD’s still watching us though, with an undiscernible look on his face. I still think he’s plotting our deaths. And now we’ll be gathered in a small confined area.

“Does this invitation extend to everyone?” JD finally spoke again.

“If you’re agreeing to have your makeup done,” Heather clarified.

“What if you’d rather do someone else’s makeup?” JD hadn’t taken any ice cream for himself and instead popped an ice cube in his mouth.

“Only if you promise not to kill us all and make it look like a mass suicide.” JD bit down on the ice cube with a smirk, Veronica didn’t trust him.

I think we’re all about to die.

Chapter Text

Somehow everyone managed to pile into Heather’s small room. Heather and Heather took Kurt while Heather showed Martha how to blend colors on Ram. That left her and JD, and JD had said he wanted to do makeup instead (not that Veronica knew or cared how to apply makeup in the first place). On top of that, she needed to have her eyes closed for most of it so she couldn’t write like when Heather was doing her hair either.

“Can you tell I like blue?” he commented, looking over her, an unsettling smirk on his face. Veronica looked down at herself. Her shoes were blue, sure. And her blouse. And her notebook… and her pen. She decided not to give him the satisfaction of answering. It didn’t seem to bother him like she had hoped. The security really must have been distracted by Heather’s flat iron because she’d brought in like four pallets of eye shadow. JD had picked the smallest one, Heather had called it “mermaid” and it had mostly blues and greens.

JD gently tilted her chin up, presumably for better lighting. Veronica closed her eyes, bracing herself for being stabbed with whatever shark thing he’d managed to hide in a pocket of his trench coat. Instead she felt the light tap of one of Heather’s tiny makeup brushes against her eyelid. She opened her eyes just a smidgen and saw the surprisingly thoughtful look on JD’s face as he examined the color pallet. She couldn’t see what color he chose, but soon felt the soft patting again forcing her to close her eyes.

Since eyeshadow was the only partially fun part about makeup that Veronica could see, it was only about five minutes before JD had either gotten bored or finished. She opened her eyes as he gave her his final appraisal. He looked pleased with himself which made her uneasy. Looking in the mirror she saw that he’d actually don’t a decently good job at blending a metallic teal with royal blue. “You don’t strike me as someone who used to play with their mom’s makeup when you were a kid,” he told her.

Heather turned around, having heard the comment, and looked just as surprised as Veronica had felt, JD got a smug look on his face. “You did that?” she asked pointing, causing Heather, Heather, and Martha to turn around as well. Kurt and Ram, who had been turned into an experimental rainbow pallet, also opened their eyes to look.

“Can you do eyeliner too?” Heather asked, look at him with wide hazel eyes. Someone had already done her eyeliner, but it was smudging against her golden eyeshadow.

“I don’t have any liquid,” Heather said, pointing to her bag, her own eyeliner was of course perfect like every other aspect of her appearance.

Heather literally hopped over to Heather’s makeup bag, her skirts bouncing in a way that reminded Veronica of the flap of butterfly wings (really anything the blonde girl did reminded Veronica of a butterfly). She retrieved a small jar and a thin bristled brush and presented it to JD with a hopeful look on her face.

“Heather, I’ll do your eyeliner for you,” Heather said, sounding uncharacteristically jealous.

“I know I just, I’ve never had a guy do my makeup before,” Heather flushed, nervously twisting in place and making her dress twirl out like an upside-down buttercup. Veronica took the lack of attention to her and picked up her notebook.

JD’s surprisingly good at makeup, at least at eyeshadow. Heather wants him to do her eyeliner and Heather looks like she’s about to scratch his eyes out for impressing her girlfriend. Ram and Kurt look like a unicorn smacked them in the face with its tail, I think a set of face paints would have been more useful for what Heather, Heather, Heather, and Martha ended up doing. I wonder if we could get some if we promised not to eat it.

“It’s one of those charcoal ones you need to add water to,” Heather explained, still looking just as unhappy. JD nodded and looked into the jar (for what Veronica didn’t know why) while Heather eagerly went off to retrieve a cup of water from the bathroom.

“Careful Heather, you keep glaring like that your face is going to freeze that way,” Veronica snickered. Heather shot her a nasty look as Heather pattered back into the room.

Why is it so weird for guys to be okay with wearing makeup and even more of a spectacle when they can do it? Anyone who can do it is pretty impressive to me. Yeah maybe it’s a little surprising for a guy to know what he’s doing because guys don’t normally wear makeup, but don’t treat him like a unicorn.

Veronica looked back up as JD was drawing a thin black line over Heather’s left eyelid. Heather was still fuming, and Veronica pursed her lips in amusement.

Though it is pretty funny to see Heather so angry over something so stupid. Who’s going to kill who know, Heather? I guess I don’t have the right to say that since I was thinking the same thing. Don’t know what else we were supposed to think of you JD, but alright, I admit that I misjudged you.

Veronica looked up again when Heather clapped happily, presumably after JD had finished. “Ohh, let me see!” Martha said excitedly, Heather getting up to look as well.

“How’d you get it so even?” Heather asked, grabbing Heather’s chin.

“You have to have a lot of talent to do even eyeliner,” Heather snipped, of course her eyeliner was also even.

“Thank you,” JD smirked at her.

Heather is so mad. It’s freaking hilarious. I don’t get the whole eyeliner must be even because I don’t wear makeup, but JD’s serving Heather her sass right back at her and it’s amazing. Poor Heather, she just wants the attention of her girlfriend back.

“Um, how do you get makeup off?” Kurt asked, raising his hand, very much less impressed by the eyeliner skills JD apparently also possessed.

“This comes off with soap and water, right? I’ll come off in the shower,” Ram seconded.

“Why? You don’t like what we’ve done?” Heather mocked, a wicked grin coming back to her red lips. “Yes, it comes off with soap and water.”

“Kay, well I’m taking this off now,” Kurt said getting up.

“Me too,” Ram followed. “I don’t want it rubbing off on anything, plus it’s kind of itchy. Hoe do girls deal with this stuff on their face all day?”

“Well, first of all, we don’t put eyeshadow all over our face,” Heater pointed out, gesturing to the lack of green eyeshadow not around her eyes.

“Wait, there’s only one shower,” Heather observed, starting to twirl her hair again.

“Mhhm,” Heather agreed, still smirking.

“Yup!” Kurt popped his ‘p’ and grabbed Ram’s hand before dashing out the door.

Well, Kurt and Ram just went off to have shower sex. That was a thing that very much just happened. They were pretty shameless about it too.

“I don’t get it…” Martha said seriously, as Heather’s cheeks went pink while Heather and Heather burst out into giggles.

Oh poor Heather, she looks so horrified. And Martha’s just too innocent to get it. I’m going to need to protect her from Heather.

“It’s okay, it’s not like it’s that funny anyway,” Veronica could see JD shaking his head at her out of the corner of her eye.

“Here Martha, I’ll take your curls out,” Heather offered. “They should have had a long enough time to set to be nice and lose. And if you sleep with your hair up they’ll still be plenty wavy tomorrow.”

“I’ve never had any friends before,” Martha admitted. “Especially not such pretty girls like you.”

Heather just shrugged, her curls bouncing. “I never had any real friends either. Girls were jealous and boys were horny. I was just wanted as a “friend” or a fuck.”

“No one wanted to hang out with me,” Heather said removing the clips from Martha’s hair. “I think I was kind of the school joke, you know? ‘Bulimia is so ‘87’ I don’t even have bulimia.”

Heather put a hand on her arm comfortingly, “Well they’re stupid, I’d love to be friends with you. My friends suck, most of them are stuck up because they’re cheerleaders and jocks and they rule the school. I’m not allowed to do this or wear that or hang out with those people. And some days all I can do is smile.”

Are we all spilling our secrets? Martha started, thanking us for handing out with her. Heather told us she was more envied at school than wanted. Heather’s not even popular at school. And Heather hides behind smiles.

“What about you, brooding James Dean knock-off?” Heather asked, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

Brooding James Dean knock-off, ha, I’ve got to use that some time.

“You mean you didn’t have a perfect life moving to a new school every semester and being teased about being a school shooter?” JD asked rhetorically.

“I think you seem very nice,” Martha commented sweetly, JD smiled at her.

“Well I don’t know what you expect people to think when you wear a trench coat and talk in third person,” Heather rolled her eyes.

Okay, I get it. Universe you can stop having Heather say everything I think out loud.

“We should start putting stuff away, dinner’s in a few.” Heather advised, collecting the hair pins.

“Wait, you didn’t ask Veronica,” Martha said.

Heather looked over at her and smirked. “Veronica writes in her diary even while she’s having a conversation. I think she’d be insulted if I assumed she hung out with anyone in the first place.”

What kind of mind reading abilities does that red scrunchie give her?

“What are we doing after dinner?” Heather asked, gathering up the eyeshadow pallets and handing them to Heather to put away.

“We could come back here or go to someone else’s room,” Heather suggested, shoving her makeup away where it wouldn’t be seen.

“All our rooms are the exact same, does it really matter whose room we go to?” Heather asked, taking out her own curlers now.

“They took the door off mine,” Heather said quietly, looking at her feet. JD finger gunned a ‘me too’ at her.

They took the doors off Heather and JD’s rooms. I guess because they’re the ones that technically “attempted”. Heather said hers was an accident while JD, JD never actually said one way or the other.

“You can sleep with me if you want,” Heather offered, collecting the curlers and pins from Heather.

“Really?” Heather asked smiling, Heather nodded.

Heather’s got her girlfriend back.

“Do we have to go to dinner?” Heather asked, as Heather began to usher everyone out of the room.

“We’re all going to dinner, they’re serving spaghetti with extra oregano,” Heather made a go on gesture.

“Wait, someone needs to go get Kurt and Ram!” Martha exclaimed.

“I’ll go!” Heather tried but Heather grabbed her arm.

“No, I’m not allowing you to risk it. Jesse James, you do it and don’t join them,” Heather ordered, and Heather let out a squeak (Heather pouted, her plan foiled).

“Because you totally look like the person to do that,” Veronica could hear JD mutter under his breath as he exited, which Heather paid no head to as she tugged everyone else off to the kitchen.

Does JD look like the type of person to join in on gay shower sex and make it a threesome?

“Come on, Veronica!” Heather snapped.

Is JD even the type of person to have shower sex?

“VERONICA!”

I hate my friends.

Chapter Text

JD walked into the kitchen with a fully dressed Kurt and Ram only a few minutes after them. “That was quick,” he said for Heather.

“Good boy, you didn’t get distracted,” Heather jibed back.

Heather may very well end up dead by the end of this, and from JD’s hands, but for a very different reason than what I fist assumed… well, actually the same reason. Heather’s a bitch and JD’s going to lose his tempter with her, except the rest of us won’t end up dead with her, hopefully.

“Don’t antagonize the trench coat wearing psycho,” JD mocked Heather. She shook her head at him and handed him a plate.

“Heather,” Heather warned her girlfriend very seriously as she sat down with her plate of spaghetti.

“Please,” Heather said waving her off. “He’s harmless. If he wanted us dead, we’d already be dead. Besides, he might have problems, but he doesn’t have that kind of problems or he wouldn’t be with us in the first place. And I don’t think he considers any of us worth the time in jail either.”

Heather’s such a dry wit pessimist. We’re so similar it’s scaring me.

“That’s such a comforting thought,” Kurt deadpanned, slurping up his noodles. There was a snorting sound from JD and Veronica realized he was laughing.

“Got everything figured out, don’t I?” he asked Heather. He sat down next to Martha with his place of pasta and a cup of just ice.

“Am I wrong?” Heather retorted, sitting between Heather and Heather.

“Pessimism and practicality rule the world,” JD confirmed before popping an ice cube in his mouth.

God, everyone’s so droll. I might have to marry Heather as soon as we get out of here. Heather, Heather, and I could be wives, we’d be like Mormons without the man.

Pessimism and practicality, my new life motto.

“Are you confirming that you would kill us if you could get away with it?” Heather inquired, picking up a single noddle with her fork and looking at it distastefully. JD only answered with a shrug.

What does it say about you that the only reason you’re not dead is because of inconvenience?

“How many of us would be worth the effort?” Veronica asked, twirling her pasta on her fork and shoving as much of it as she could into her mouth. Elegance was unimportant to her.

“Should we be talking about this?” Heather questioned. “I mean, do you think they’re listening in on us?”

Heather thinks they might be listening to us. Is that legal? That has to be a violation of our privacy, right? But we are in this stupid weird therapy. And we’re labeled “at risk”, they could have an argument.

“Then they got to listen in on Ram and Kurt’s shower sex,” Heather said, placing the perfect amount of pasta in her mouth. With Heather, elegance was of the utmost importance.

That means they would have herd about Kurt and Ram, and about Heather's illegal beauty products, and you.

“How do you know that’s what they were doing?” Martha asks as Kurt and Ram both go red as the spaghetti sauce. Heather answers by pointing at them.

“I guess we’ll find out at our therapy sessions tomorrow,” Heather said, picking at her plate trying to make it look like she’d actually eaten.

What would happen if we got caught? I know they take you away. Heather would have all of her stuff confiscated. Would Ram and Kurt be separated? Could they even be moved from here?

“I can’t believe we actually have to do those,” Heather complains, going up for seconds in a flounce of yellow skirts. “I mean, we’re already here which is bad enough, and how many of us actually need to be here?”

No on raised their hand and just looked around at each other, that was until JD started laughing. “Of course everyone’s going to say they don’t belong here. Who wants to admit they have problems?” he pointed out.

“But none of us are actually here for attempting,” Heather stated. JD give Heather a peculiar look, which no one else notices, too busy looking at the person speaking. “We’re the only ones without doors to our rooms and I told my parents and the doctors a million times that it was just an accident. I didn’t mean to take that many, it just got away from me.”

Heather says none of us are actually here for attempting, which is technically what this dumb thing is supposed to be about. But JD’s not saying anything and I’m wondering if maybe he is. Heather’s here because of mental health, Heather has an eating disorder, Heather’s in so much denial of her depression that she accidentally almost overdosed on Zoloft, Kurt has anxiety and faces over pressure from football, Ram’s dad is homophobic, Martha’s made fun of, and I keep to myself. Yeah we all have problems that would definitely label as “at risk” but JD… he said he was here for cutting, and not just cutting, but cutting too deeply. I’m thinking back to how he never really specified if it was on purpose or not.

“Heather, if you’re popping pills like that-” Kurt starts.

“I’m not saying it’s not a problem!” Heather snaps, surprising Veronica and by the looks of it everyone else. “But I’m also not saying I’m suicidal. And I don’t think I should be here if I don’t actually need to be here.”

Heather definitely needs to be here.

“I am not okay,” she heard JD mutter.

“Will you stop that?!” Heather spat at him, apparently Veronica hadn’t been the only one to hear him. “I don’t know if you do it because you think it’s cute or what, but it’s not. Okay? It’s obnoxious and rude! I don’t need you mocking me! Talk like a normal person!”

Everyone stares at Heather in silence, Veronica didn’t think the small happy girl didn’t have it in her to have so much rage. Realizing she’d yelled pretty harshly and probably confirmed JD’s “not okay” statement, Heather flushes and shrinks into herself.

“Heather,” Heather said softly, reaching for her. Heather jerked her arm away just as Heather’s perfectly manicured hand was about to touch her.

“No, I’m fine,” Heather insisted. “I’m just… having my period…” she muttered before rushing out of the room. Heather quickly got up and hurried after her, leaving the rest of them in awkward silence.

Neither Heather or Heather ended up coming back, so Veronica took it upon herself to make sure Heather ate. It took a lot of coxing and eventually JD asked if Heather wanted him to get out a measuring cup and measure out a precise serving for her. Even though Heather had looked mortified at the idea, she agreed to it and together Veronica and Martha managed to get her to eat all of it.

Ram and Kurt finished off the rest of the spaghetti, which killed Veronica’s hopes of having some tomorrow for lunch (stupid football players). She ended up staying behind to clean the dishes just to vent her frustration on scrubbing the pot.

“I think I like spaghetti a bit too much,” JD commented, he was next to her cleaning the plates and silverware (there was no dishwasher, at least not one they had access to).

“Just my favorite food,” Veronica sighed. “My mom makes it with extra oregano, and it used to cheer me up when I was sad. I was hoping to have some tomorrow for lunch. It’s been the one good thing in this miserable hellscape.”

“My make up does not look that bad,” he teased. Veronica rolled her eyes but couldn’t help as a small laugh slipped her lips.

“No, but makeup isn’t exciting for me, food is.” She said as she rinsed off the pot and began drying it off.

“Whoever said diamonds are a girl’s best friend got it wrong,” JD joked.

“For once I agree with you,” Veronica agreed. “What’s a shiny rock got on a good homecooked meal?” she wasn’t quite sure when her attitude towards him had changed, but it had and for the first time that day she left a conversation with him in a good mood and not suspecting him of possible homicide.

Veronica didn’t really want to go to her room, so she was a little relieved and a little surprised (and even more surprised to be relieved) that Heather’s door was open. Apprehensively Veronica stuck her head in.

Heather was laying down with her head in Heather’s lap while the other girl gently stroked her long golden hair. “Is everything okay?” Veronica asked, both of them looked over at her.

“Yeah,” Heather mumbled sitting up. “I should probably go apologize to JD for yelling at him.”

“I don’t think he’s mad at you,” Veronica said. “He didn’t say anything, and he wasn’t angry either.”

“I should still go apologize,” Heather sighed getting up, Heather glared at Veronica for being the reason Heather was leaving. “I got worked up and I took it out on him. Now I just have to hope he doesn’t reduce me to mood swings and hormones.”

“He’s not the type of person to do that,” Heather said reassuringly. “And if he is then he’s right, we’ll see who’s the one killing who.” Heather gave her a brief smile before walking out of the room.

As soon as she was gone Heather went back to glaring at Veronica. “I got Heather to eat a full serving of spaghetti?” Veronica tried distracting her.

Heather nodded curtly at her and stopped glaring. “She and Martha walked past about ten minutes ago, I think they went to her room to continue doing their hair.”

Not knowing what else to do Veronica turned to head back to her room. “Veronica,” Heather called just as she started to walk away, “thank you.” That left her the most surprised of all.

Chapter Text

“So Veronica, how did you do adjusting yesterday?” Dr. Fleming asked, smiling at Veronica who thought it was stupid and wanted to slap if off the therapist’s face.

“It happened,” Veronica stated dryly. Dear Diary, she started mentally.

I don’t think any of us slept last night, we all eventually just passed out and hoped to wake up and find this mess a dream.

“Yes but was it good or bad or a little bit of both?” Dr. Fleming pressed.

Today’s the first private therapy session. Dr. Fleming’s asking how I liked being ripped away from everything familiar without being allowed to bring anything with me and forced to interact with people I’ve never met who also have problems and are just as miserable about the situation as I am.

“It happened,” Veronica repeated with no more emotion than the last time.

“Well let’s walk through everything that happened,” Dr. Fleming suggested. “You met the other kids, what did you think of them?”

Dr. Fleming has the voice where you’re forcing yourself to sound nice and patient while you were internally strangling the person you were talking to. I have the luxury of going last which means she’s totally fed up with all our teen angst bullshit. I would have loved to have sat in on JD’s or at least Heather’s session. It would be golden to watch her try to manage the perfectly polished girl, her sharp wit, and red scrunchie.

“They’re here too,” Veronica gave Dr. Fleming her own smile back.

Dr. Fleming must never know I don’t absolutely hate all of them.

“Okay what about Heather, she’s very sweet,” Dr. Fleming tried.

“There are three Heathers,” Veronica pointed out. “And all of them are the preppy girls you’d expect to rule the school.”

Dr. Fleming’s trying to get me to gossip, I’m not going to gossip with her. Is she trying to get me to tell her about Heather’s stuff?

“Yes, but Miss. Chandler is an exceptionally polite young lady.” Veronica stares are her in shock.

Heather’s nice? Heather?! Oh she’s so playing Dr. Fleming like violin. Damn, now I really wish I could have seen what happened. Does that mean Heather had another freak out and tried insisting she didn’t need to be here?

“She’s definitely exceptional,” Veronica equivocated.

“Oh and Martha, Martha’s also someone I hoped you’d get along with,” Dr. Fleming continued, hopeful she might finally have Veronica talking.

“Martha’s sweet,” Veronica conceded, her hands twitched in her lap. She needed to write.

“Does she seem like someone you could possibly be friends with?”

If I played along, would she let me go early?

Veronica shrugged, “More than anyone else,” which wasn’t a lie.

“That’s wonderful to hear! So I would like you to try to talk to someone today-“ Dr. Fleming droned on and Veronica tuned her out.

I’m beginning to wish JD had actually killed me yesterday.

“So,” Heather asked, her red lips popping against her impossibly white teeth. She looked happier now that she’d be able to put makeup on. It was probably a good thing her sessions were first. “What did you end up telling that nut job of a woman?”

Dear Diary

We’ve been instructed by Dr. Fleming to “talk and feel” after our individual sessions. Sometime last night the chairs have been replaced with actual furniture. The guys have taken the couch, Heather and Heather claimed the love seat, and Martha, Heather, and I took the remaining chairs and a kitchen barstool.

I’m so glad to have you back, which means they’re probably not eavesdropping on our conversations. I took a leaf from Heather and buried you under my bras and panties. Now if they find you, I can claim the staff was perving through my stuff. Which is also not something I want to think about.

“You guys make me want to throw up,” Heather answered.

“You girls are the reason I’m gay,” Ram snorted.

“There’s a bullet under his pillow for everyone one of us,” JD added, his feet kicked up at the coffee table as he laid back and looked at the ceiling.

According to Heather we make her sick, according to Ram I make him gay, and according to JD he’s still plotting our death.

 “I told her you guys were all very nice and I was happy to have some friends,” Martha said more than slightly horrified, Heather laughed and Heather giggled.

“It’s a joke,” Heather said with fake exasperation. “But really, what did you tell her? That woman’s easier to play than a triangle.”

Easier to play than a triangle, I’m not joking when I say Heather and I will get married.

“That she makes me want to throw up,” Heather deadpanned. Heather continued laughing, almost falling out of her chair.

“That JD has a cute ass,” Kurt snickered. JD sat up, winked, and finger gunned him.

“That I hate all of you,” Veronica piped up.

When in fact Heather hates it here, Kurt’s not taking this seriously, and JD might actually be into gay threesome shower sex (I swear if Heather is right about one more thing).

Heather groaned. “Seriously? None of you took the opportunity to mess with her?”

“What did you tell her, Heather?” Veronica asked. “I hear that you’re “an exceptionally polite young lady”.”

Heather grinned wickedly. “Just exactly what she wanted to hear, that ‘being here was really going to help me and having other people who I can talk to was great with easing the pressure I put on myself’. She ate if off the floor like a dog.”

Lick it up, Dr. Fleming, lick it up.

“Should you really be lying to her?” Martha questioned.

“What does it matter?” Heather asked, having recovered from her laughing fit. “What do you think will happen if we actually try to tell her what’s going on? It’s her fault for thinking we’d tell the truth in the first place.”

“But she’s supposed to be helping us,” Martha pointed out.

Oh Martha, sweet naïve Martha who still has faith in adults.

“Adults are too dumb to know what we really need help with,” Heather said lazily, examining her nail polish like there might be a chip (there wasn’t, it was absolutely perfect). “And even if they knew they still wouldn’t help us. Because that’s the adult world, you have to grow up and deal with it yourself.”

“We already do most of it on our own, you’d think the least they could do is help us with the little bit we actually ask for help on,” Kurt laughed humorlessly. “They only care when it inconveniences them.”

The secret to life is knowing how to take care of things yourself and not bother inconvenience someone else with your problems because they’ve got their own.

“But what about your parents?” Martha insisted, receiving more mirthless laughing from Ram, JD, and all three Heathers.

“If you’re lucky, they’re actually do give half a damn,” Veronica spoke amongst the bitter laughter. “But even then you wonder how much of it was also to save face.”

“I’m bored,” Heather suddenly announced, getting up and stretching. Her attire for the day was a emerald tunic with black leggings, it somehow made her look skinnier. “There’s absolutely nothing to do here. They’ve moved us to the middle of nowhere, there’s no phone, no cable for the tv, and not even a damn pool for the whole summer.”

Heather’s right, the place they have us at sucks. I don’t know if they build it or what, but it reminds me of a single level college dorm. Everyone has their own separate barely legal-size room, there’s a main space, and kitchenette/dining area. There’s a tv in the corner with no service and a small yard with no pool.

“Yeah, give a group of unsupervised suicidal kids access to a pool!” JD exclaimed with fake enthusiasm.

“Not suicidal,” Heather reminded him in a sing-song voice. She had on a pastel yellow blouse tucked into a pair of white high-waisted shorts. Veronica didn't take her for a girl to wear shorts, but on the other hand they showed off her legs well.

She watched him closely at Heather’s statement, but he showed no indication that he cared or had even heard her.

“Gonna be if this is what my summer is,” Heather mocked her (again JD gave no reaction).

“Pop some Jiffy Pop and watch a movie,” Veronica suggested.

“The Princess Bride!” Martha gasped happily.

Martha looks like the type of person to have memorized the whole script to The Princess Bride.

“Wouldn’t you have that memorized?” Heather teased, her curls bouncing as she turned to look at Martha.

Damn Heather.

“I like happy endings, kind of a sucker for them,” Martha flushed.

“Princess Bride it is then,” Heather said to Martha’s excitement. “Big strong boys, move the furniture to face the tv, would you?” she fake flirted at Kurt and Ram.

“I’m going to find some Jiffy Pop,” Veronica volunteered.

“There wouldn’t be any,” JD told her, “stove’s not working.”

“What do you mean the stove’s not working?” she asked, a little thrown off at how normal he currently sounded. “And how do you know?”

“It’s not plugged in, nor is it attached to a propane tank,” he answered her, defeated Veronica plopped back down in her chair. It hadn’t even occurred to her that they would’ve cut the oven.

“And again you know this how?” she demanded.

“He checked it last night while we were asleep,” Heather spoke for him, giving him an unamused look as she straightened out her skirt which it didn’t need (obviously being pressed and starched like her dress).

“Lord knows what else he does while we sleep,” JD said, Veronica blinked at him.

You know, I get that JD still kids about murdering us, even after Heather “comfortingly” assured us that he wouldn’t actually, but he still says stuff and I don’t know if he wants us to take him seriously or not.

“There should be regular microwave popcorn,” he added.

“But the microwave doesn’t work, I already tried it yesterday,” Ram said, starting to push the couch over. “I guess it’s unplugged, I’m surprised it was even in there.”

“Should work now,” JD replied nonchalantly.

“Because you plugged it in?” Heather asked sarcastically, going over to the bin with the movies in it, her hair was still curly from yesterday.

“Because they replaced the metal utensils this morning,” he informed them, moving to help Kurt and Ram with the furniture.

They replaced the metal silverware…

In exchange for a working microwave we now eat with plastic forks you get from fast food restaurants.

I feel like we deserve this to some degree, making fun of how adults have no idea about the shit we get up to and how they’re shocked when we’re left unsupervised. Well they’ve finally taken note and it’s ruined any change for big fun or fun in general.

“Just someone go find some damn popcorn,” Heather muttered in the tone that they all felt.

Chapter Text

Turns out Martha wasn’t the only nerd who had memorized the entire script to The Princess Bride. Ram and Kurt were pretty good at acting out a lot of the scenes almost word for word.

They’d found a couple microwave bags of popcorn and The Princess Bride buried at the bottom of the movie basket (“because of course they’d have it” Heather had said, and they did).

I never thought in all my life I would be watching The Princess Bride with the three most popular girls in school while the star linebacker and quarterback take turns enacting romance scenes with a girl who’s made fun of for her weight. I think Ram wanted Heather to be Buttercup because she’s blonde, but then decided Heather was too scary to fight for her. Martha knows the lines anyway. I think we’ve chucked more popcorn at them than we’ve eaten. Let’s just say Kurt and Ram are in football and not drama for a reason.

The movie ended and Kurt, Ram, and Martha took a bow while Heather threw a fist full of popcorn at them. “You suck! I want my money back!” she jeered (Veronica suspected she was more trying to find an excuse not to eat the popcorn).

“As you wish!” Ram giggled and got more popcorn thrown at him.

“Hey pick that up!” Veronica scolded. “You’re going to have to clean up the mess you made.”

Heather stuck her tongue out but started to sweep up the popcorn. “Well that didn’t even kill two hours,” Heather complained as she dumped the floor popcorn in the trash. “Now what?” she asked Heather and Heather, who were still in the loveseat and had refused to gut up as Kurt and Ram pushed it back in place.

“We could go outside?” Kurt suggested, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Veronica thought he’d started to look antsy towards the last thirty minutes of the movie. “Ram and I, we didn’t do our workout yesterday.”

“There’s not much you could do,” Heather said wrinkling her nose and finally getting up. “Not that I could see. I guess you could do pushups with us sitting on your back.”

“It’s be better than nothing,” Kurt shrugged. “Ram and I will be going back into football senior year and I don’t want to spend all summer…”

“Yeah I get that, I go back into drill squad,” Heather muttered crossing her arms.

“Fine, I guess,” Heather sighed, still in the chair. “But I’m going to have to ask for sunscreen first.”

“The redhead does not tan,” JD snickered, earning him a sharp glare from her.

“Neither does the blonde,” Heather added raising her hand. “SPF 1000 please.”

“Come on Heather, I’ll get your back,” Heather offered, elegantly rising from the loveseat and straightening out her skirt.

“We’re not waiting on you,” Heather said opening the door outside. “Kurt, Ram, looks like you’re going to have to warm up with me and Martha.”

“Well I don’t know about me, I think I’ll just watch,” Martha flushed.

“Nah, if I can bench press Kurt, you’ll be a piece of cake,” Ram waved her off, Martha flushed even deeper.

“You coming Veronica?” she squeaked.

“Sorry, Veronica’s a vampire due to her lack of going outside all her life,” Veronica answered. “She incinerates in the sun quicker than the redhead.”

“JD spontaneously combusts upon the removal of his trench coat,” JD said when Martha turned to him.

“You’ll spontaneously combust if you go outside with your trench coat on in this heat too,” Heather remarked before walking outside. Ram and Kurt followed, and after a second of internal debating, Martha.

It’s the second day and everyone’s already stir-crazy. The movie was nice, but it only lasted an hour and a half and no one wants to spend all day watching movies anyway. They’re all going outside now to watch Kurt and Ram exercise (without their shirts on, trust me it’ll get to that). Well, JD and I aren’t, and Heather and Heather have gone off to get sunscreen. JD by the way…

Veronica looked up at him from where he was now sitting across the couch from her. “So Kurt said I have a cute ass,” Veronica said grinning.

“Where the hell did he get that idea from?” JD asked back, smiling mischievously.

“I think it was the shower sex,” Veronica teased, “great way to look at someone’s ass you know, being naked and all.”

JD rolled his eyes, “You didn’t actually have shower sex, quit teasing.”

“I didn’t have shower sex?” Veronica fake gasped.

He snorted. “You’d have to take your trench coat off.”

“Ah yes, the spontaneous combustion, how could I forget?” Veronica crossed her arms.

“Heard it’s terrible for your overall wellbeing, exploding an all.” He pretended to sound concerned.

“Side effects may include death,” she quipped without thinking.

“Everything’s side effects include death,” he deadpanned, Veronica let out a breath she wasn’t aware she was holding. “What did Fleming ask you?” his question caught her by surprise, she hadn’t been thinking about that at all.

“If I liked everyone, same question she asked everyone else,” Veronica told him uncertainly.

JD’s asking about Dr. Fleming, I can’t tell if he’s talking about me or himself finally.

“I have a feeling your questions were different,” he replied smoothly.

There it is, he’s aware I’m watching him, of what I think. Or what he thinks I think.

“Possibly, why would you think that?” she asked carefully, he still sounded playful.

JD’s always so hard to gauge, why does he sound so natural about this? Does he really think I’m that nosey?

“Your reaction to Heather last night mainly, and your tendency to… equivocate,” he named off.

“So you’ve noticed that,” she confirmed, he was looking at her like when they’d first met, soft but inquisitive. “Am I even allowed to tell you that? Confidentiality and all.”

He shrugged, “That’s for the therapist, we can choose to tell each other whatever we want.”

“What do you want me to tell you then?” she cocked her head to the side, examining him for anything else but he gave nothing.

“Okay lovebirds, get a room!” Heather suddenly interrupted their conversation. “Preferably Veronica’s because it actually has a door.”

Veronica whipped her head about to glare at her.

Making a joke about JD not having a door? The hell Heather? What’s your damage? You’re so aware, why would you say something so flippant?

“Sleeping your way through everyone, aren’t you?” JD chuckled, drawing Veronica’s attention back to him. He seemed unaffected by Heather’s comment, though Veronica knew that meant absolutely nothing.

“Please, you didn’t actually have sex with Kurt and Ram, they didn’t even have sex themselves.” Veronica could feel Heather’s eye roll.

 “Are you coming Veronica?” Heather inquired, holding up a bottle of sunscreen.

“And miss Kurt and Ram without their shirts on?” Veronica joked.

“It’ll be very,” Heather promised, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder (Heather crossed her arms indignantly and walked out).

“What’s the SPF on that sunscreen?” Veronica asked, taking the bottle.

“One-thirty-five,” Heather answered. “I still wish there was a pool though,” she sighed wistfully, following Heather outside.

Guess I’m off to “ogle” at Kurt and Ram’s muscles, looks like I’m going to have to leave you here.

“Me too,” JD said, after Heather had left. Veronica looked at him as she started applying sunscreen to her arms. He was looking at the spot Heather had been standing at.

“Are you coming?” she asked.

“Would it be a good idea?” he shot back.

“Kurt and Ram will be shirtless, if that wink meant anything,” she tried to sound lighthearted and not worried.

“Who would want to miss that?” he was smiling again. She wanted to say he was faking it but didn’t want to bet on it.

JD had managed to fine a small sliver of shade so he didn’t spontaneously combust by taking his trench coat off or keeping it on. Heather was sitting in front of Kurt and Ram doing splits Veronica could only dream of doing. Martha was on Ram’s back (to her delight) while Veronica, Heather, and Heather had all piled onto Kurt despite his protests. “I can’t bench press three hundred pounds yet! Get off Heather!” he said laying face first in the grass.

Heather grumbled something indignant but climbed off and sat next to Heather. “Five!” Ram called triumphantly.

“You got a head start!” Kurt accused as she started doing pushups.

“How many can you do?” Heather questioned, bending over Kurt’s shoulder as if to try to look him in the face.

“Fifteen,” Kurt responded, gritting his teeth.

“Twelve,” Ram corrected, as he finished.

“What’s the difference?” Veronica inquired idly.

“A lot,” Kurt said pointedly, sitting up on his knees. “Twelve Kurt.” It sounded like he was telling a small child the number of cookies they were restricted to.

“Maybe we should do some yoga?” Heather offered. “I could teach yoga.”

“I don’t do that,” Veronica pointed to her splits as Kurt counted to twelve.

“You don’t need to be able to, it’s just stretching,” Heather explained, moving from the splits so crisscross.

“I’m down,” Heather of course agreed.

“Sounds like a good idea,” Ram nudged Kurt after he was finished.

“I guess,” Kurt muttered.

“Great!” Heather hopped up eagerly, everyone slowly followed suit.

Veronica looked over at JD, who obviously had no plans to join them. He had a laid-back posture like he didn’t really care what was going on but she knew he was watching them closely and probably with some amusement. She wished she were over with him instead, notebook in hand. Veronica tried to watch him back out of the corner of her eye but at one point he managed to slip away without anyone else noticing. He returned about ten minutes later with a tray of something colorful laid out on it.

“Popsicles!” Martha observed rushing over.

“It took you ten minutes to get popsicles?” Veronica raised an eyebrow.

“No scissors,” JD wrinkled his nose and handed her her notebook.

“That’s stupid,” Heather commented, taking a yellow one and handing a red one to Heather. “We’re lucky they didn’t take our shoelaces.”

 “Does this mean that if we want more it’s going to take another ten minutes?” Ram complained as he finished his now melted popsicle in one gulp, getting an agreed mumble from almost everyone else who had finished their popsicle except for Heather and Kurt.

“I’m sorry but a popsicle is not worth my ten minutes of my time or dignity,” Heather said, adjusting her hat for what had to be the eleventh time since they’d been outside. Somehow she’d managed not to dye her lips the color of her popsicle unlike everyone else. “I wish we could leave because I’d absolutely kill for a Slurpee right now.”

Does JD look like the kind of person to actually kill someone over a Seven-Eleven Slurpee, I don’t know, maybe it’s just because his lips are purple from his popsicle. Kurt hasn’t even eaten his which is now totally melted. He’s looking at it like it holds the answers to the universe.

Ram noticed his friend and lightly tapped him on the shoulder, snapping Kurt out of whatever trance he’d been in.

I bet it’s still more insightful than Dr. Fleming.

Chapter Text

Veronica stared up at her ceiling. She couldn’t sleep. Three days and she still couldn’t find a way to fall asleep that wasn’t passing out form sleep deprivation. Heather had Heather and Kurt had Ram. She didn’t know what Martha, Heather, and JD did but they all looked better rested than she did in the morning (Dr. Fleming spewed some bullshit about how she just needed to open up more to feel more comfortable, as her dark circles were the one thing Veronica couldn’t hide form the therapist). 

Veronica sighed and sat up, counting sheep wasn’t going to work tonight, not that it ever did. She thought about getting her notebook out, but then she’d stay up all night writing instead. She needed something to put her to sleep that wasn’t crawling in the bed with Heather and Heather, even if they were going to get married. The only other thing she could think of was a late-night snack. 

Veronica tiptoed down the hallway and into the main area, where the couch and the chairs had yet again been rearranged by Heather, Kurt, and Ram in an act of stir-crazy impulsion. It really was pathetic how little had been planned for a group of teenagers to do all summer. 

She was surprised to see the kitchen light on and even more surprised to see JD up an all the bowls and glasses seeming to have been drug out of the cabinet. “What are you doing up so late?” he raised an eyebrow as soon as he noticed her. 

 “I was just about to ask the same thing,” Veronica crossed her arms. 

“Same as you, I suppose, can’t sleep like any other sane person in this hellhole.” 

“So you got the sudden urge to have a midnight snack or something?” 

“And you’re in the kitchen doing who knows what with all the dishes.” It suddenly registered to her that they weren’t having a normal conversation, or he hadn’t. It was so confusing when he was so close to sounding normal. Several times the past couple of weeks she’d get a few sentences into a conversation before realizing he wasn’t stopping his third person mannerism. Expect this time she was too tired to play along and she didn’t have her notebook to write about it either. 

“I’m making some hot chocolate, want some?” she offered, reaching for one of the glasses that were already out. Picking it up she noticed there were markings, looking closer she found the markings were measurements. “What is this? Serving size for milk one cup… serving size for orange juice three-fourths cup… Did you do this?... Did you do this for Heather?” That’s when she finally saw the marker in his hand. 

“So you’ve noticed how she’s always fussing about whenever we try to make her eat even though she knows that she needs it.” He remarked, writing something down on a baggie. 

“You’re measuring out exact serving sizes for her.” Veronica finally put it together. That’s when she saw everything. Not only were all the bowls and cups and plates out, but so were boxes of cereal and measuring cups and other assortments of food. “You think that’ll help anything?” he merely shrugged in response and pointed to the milk jug. Veronica was puzzled for a second before remembering her hot chocolate. 

“Can I help?” If she was going to be up she might as well do something that might be useful. Again she was met with silence and just a shrug. They worked together in silence (except for JD chewing on some ice like he "always seemed to be doing). 

Eventually she did have hot chocolate, but that was after she helped JD finish measuring out serving sizes and put the dishes away. They sat on the couch, dreary eyed and while she sipped on a mug of warm cocoa and JD continued to suck on ice cubes. It was 3:47 in the morning, there was no way she was going back to sleep so all there was left to do was wait for the sun (or Kurt, Veronica was pretty sure Kurt got up at 5:00 to exercise while Ram couldn’t monitor him like a child). 

JD hadn’t really said much, which she considered odd. He was usually engaging in some sort of sharp banter with someone that he, more often than not, started. 

Veronica felt her fingers twitch against her mug. She didn’t like thinking this early in the morning, especially without her notebook. She needed to write down her thoughts. 

JD bit down on an ice cube, breaking her concentration. “What’s that supposed to do?” It was the first thing that came to her mind and she was too tired to have a filter. 

He raised an eyebrow at her. “I thought you already told me this.” 

“You told me it’s a coping mechanism, but you didn’t tell me how. It’s an alternative to self-harm, but how? You’re chewing ice, how’s that an alternative?” She didn’t think she was being nosy or insensitive. It’s not like she was asking him to prove the validity of his problems. 

“You just sit there numbing the roof of your mouth like brain freeze.” He sucked another ice cube in with a pop (like with a grape). 

“Brain freeze?” 

“Like second rate brain freeze.” He corrected, grinning. 

 “So why not ice cream?” 

“So why not a whole gallon in one sitting?” 

“... Is that problematic or-” 

“Just the fact that any normal person could eat a tub of ice cream in one sitting?” he finished for her. She wanted to relax a little, but he always had cup of ice so she couldn’t help wondering. 

“So is there anything better than ice besides eating a tub of ice cream at a time?” Veronica tried to keep her more relaxed front. 

“So is there anything better than a Slurpee?” Veronica thought back to the other day when Heather had complained about wanted to go to a Sev-Elev for a Slurpee. JD hadn’t replied, but Veronica remembered joking to herself that he fit the type of person to actually kill someone over a Slurpee from Seven-Eleven. 

“A Slurpee huh? I guess I was right when I suspected you and Heather were in cahoots to break out of here and haul ass to rob the nearest Sev-Elev.” 

“The biggest heist since Ocean’s 11.” 

Veronica suddenly burst out laughing uncontrollably to the point of mild hyperventilation. Eventually she calmed down enough to barely coherently mumble out “Ocean’s 7- 11” before succumbing to nothing but giggles again. JD was looking at her very disapprovingly but was also trying very hard to keep from laughing. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, but he too ended up giving in to her dumb joke and the both of them laughed hysterically together for at least thirty seconds. 

She was a little shocked to hear him laugh fully and not just snicker. Again, it was probably the lack of sleep they were currently running on. “Worst. Joke. Ever.” He managed to deadpan. 

“You laughed so I don’t believe you.” She finished off the remainder of her hot chocolate and set the mug to the side. “So where did you learn such a nifty little trick?” Upon examine her words, she wasn’t entirely sure she should call it ‘nifty’. 

“Was it suggested by a half decent therapist or was it self-learned when the other stopped being an option? Or maybe a combination of both?” 

“And how did you mom take this therapist prescribed addiction to Slurpees?” she air quoted ‘therapist prescribed’. 

“Guess she couldn’t really do much being dead and all.” Veronica stared at him. He really hadn’t just said that so casually, had he? 

Veronica gaped stupidly but she wasn’t sure what she could say. 

“Guess it didn’t help with all the crazy. Poor Jason De a n watched his mom commit suicide by wa lking into a building his dad blew up a few minutes later, of course he’s going to have a few screws loose ." He tugged at the sleeve of his trench coat. Veronica hadn’t even realized he had it on. He always had it on it had just became a part of him. But if he had it on now, then did he ever take it off? 

“I’m-I’m so sorry JD You didn’t deserve to have that said behind your back.” 

“Or in front of your face either.” 

“They did not .” Loathing crept into Veronica’s voice so pure she wasn't aware she was even capable of feeling. 

“But you’re crazy and a kid, so it’s not like you’re going to understand.” JD continued picking at his sleeve. He was no longer looking at her and had lost the sarcastic drawl in his voice. “It’s not like each word cuts like a blade until the cuts become real. But what else can you do except pretend you don’t hear the whispers and the gossip. You’re asking for it aren’t you? When you change schools every trimester and you wear a trench coat and talk in third person. Why even ask for people to give you a chance when that's what you present them with? People don’t care how hard you’ve tried in the past or how hard you’re still trying because you’re obviously not trying hard enough if you’re still doing it. They don’t care if you wear the coat to hide the scars or if you talk that way because you literally can’t stop no matter how hard you try. They don’t care how hard you try as long as you’re still doing it.” 

Veronica couldn’t process all the information being thrown at her. She picked up bits and pieces, ‘change schools every trimester’, ‘to hide the scars’. She needed her notebook to write out her thoughts and process what was being said. But one thing that made its way through loud and clear was J.D.’s voice cracking. Without thinking – she couldn't think – she leaned over and hugged him. 

She wasn’t sure if she was surprised when he hugged her back, there were too many things running around in her brain, but she could feel him grasping at her shoulders. He shuddered against her as he attempted to keep his breath under control. She didn’t let go and she wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that but eventually she realized JD was muttering something in her ear as he buried his face in her shoulder. ‘ Veronica, Veronica, Veronica’  

Chapter Text

“Well fuck me gently with a chainsaw!”

Veronica bolted up, almost falling off the couch. She didn’t even remember falling asleep and had almost thought that her encounter with JD last night (or this morning) had been a dream.

Heather Chandler was glaring at her, arms crossed and tapping her foot. It was then Veronica noticed everyone else was also in the room, staring at her in shock or amusement (expect Martha who didn’t get it and Heather who had covered her face with her hands).

“Thanks for christening the couch, it’s not like we were going to use it anymore anyway.”

Veronica opened her mouth to retort when she looked down at JD who looked back up at her with an eyebrow cocked in question. Horror filled her stomach and her face and chest went deep red. When she’d sat up she'd ended up straddling his waist.

Of course both of them still had their clothes on, so Heather was just goading her, but still, their predicament didn’t leave Veronica in the best place to argue back.

Logically what must have happened is she’d merely fallen asleep on top of JD whenever that had happened and when she’d sat up so suddenly that this had been a natural position. That didn’t make it any less mortifying.

“Well if you’re going to do anything get off him,” Heather called from behind her, Veronica could envision Heather’s hands on her skinny waist and an obnoxious smirk on her face.

“Yeah,” Kurt chimed in. “And here I thought we’d get some porn on Cinemax.”

Veronica blamed being woken up so suddenly on the fact that she hadn’t thought to get off JD as soon as she realized what was going on. She scrambled off of him, nearly falling off the couch again and tripped over the coffee table. She decided she really couldn’t be more embarrassed than she already had been and brushed herself off, not caring about the looks she was receiving anymore.

“We drew straws, Veronica, you get first with the hippie this morning.”

“You drew straws, Heather got first with Dr. Fleming and you’re making me go first anyway.” Veronica wasn’t certain that’s what had actually happened, but it was a very Heather thing to do and the lack of response proved Veronica right.

“But I’ll go because I’m a nice person.” Mainly she’d have some time not being antagonized by Heather or anyone else and she could tune Dr. Fleming out and begin to think about what JD has said last night.

Dear Diary,

Veronica rubbed her temples as Dr. Fleming started with her usual questions. She answered the doctor with the same answers she always gave, she had better things to think about than Dr. Fleming’s prodding.

I ran into JD last night and we ended up talking about some stuff that… I’m still not sure I understand. He said his mom committed suicide and- and he saw it. And he changes schools all the time. That he talks the way he does because he can’t not do it.

Veronica opened her eyes. “Dr. Fleming does anyone ever talk in their sessions? I mean besides Heather Chandler; she’s playing you by the way.”

The doctor gapes at her like a fish. “N-no the rest of you have been rather insistent on keeping quiet. Why do you ask?”

“I talked to Jason Dean last night and… I just wondered what he might say to you if he actually spoke.”

The gaping turns into grinning and Veronica instantly regrets speaking anything at all. “Oh! So you’ve been talking to Jason Dean? What has that been like? What have you two talked about?”

“Well, stupid trivial stuff mostly. He wants access to slushies – preferably from Seven-Eleven – told me about his “self-prescribed” coping mechanism.” Dr. Fleming nodded along rather dumbly, keeping her smile. Veronica squinted her eyes when there was no reaction to JD “Slurpee medicine”.

I wonder, how much does Dr. Fleming actually know about us? I guess she has access to our medical history and whatever our parents wrote down for the reason they put us here, but if we don’t talk.

JD said brain freeze was an alternative he came up with a therapist and it can’t have been with Dr. Fleming. For one thing he was already doing it when he came here. I suppose that means she wouldn’t know, it’s not like any doctor would actually write a prescription for such a thing.

“And we- well he told me about his mother.”

I don’t know why I said that, I’ve already said more than enough to get her off my back.

“He did?” satisfaction turned to shock, did Dr. Fleming not know about JD’s mother either?

“About what happened to her. What she did. How it affected him.”

“And what did you think? How did that make you feel?”

Here we go with the ‘talking and feeling’ nonsense she’s always rambling on about.

Veronica shrugged. “I don’t know, it was insightful, I guess. We were both so tired by that point we might as well have been high.” She didn’t want to tell Dr. Fleming what she actually thought.

What would I say anyway? I barely even know what I actually think.

I have to wonder, what is JD’s life like? What has it been like without his mother? How has he survived constantly changing schools?

And what would I say about… about what he confirmed? He confirmed that didn’t he? I mean, I had a hunch from the way he acted, specifically around Heather. I guess I never really thought about what it meant. For us it sucks to be treated like little kids, not to have knives or scissors or even a microwave for a little while. But JD might actually need those precautions. God what would it be like to look at things like that?

“Well any talking is better than nothing!” The doctor’s voice was shrill with excitement.

Veronica was about to roll her eyes and leave when an idea hit her, Dr. Fleming was in a good mood that probably wouldn’t keep. “Dr. Fleming we’re rather bored without much activities to keep us busy. It’s not even been a week and we’re already stir-crazy. Is there anything you could do about that?”

Veronica went to go find JD after she was free, notebook secured in hand. She wanted to continue their conversation from last night. There were still things Veronica needed to process and JD seemed to be able to read her better than she could read herself half the time.

It took a while to find him because he was the one place, she never thought he would be. He was in his room laying on his bed asleep.

“What are you doing here?” Veronica almost dropper her notebook. Apparently not asleep.

“I thought you were sleeping.”

“Why aren’t you sleeping? We’ve maybe had five hours of sleep the whole week?”

“Do you mind if I come in?”

“These rooms aren’t really ours; we all know that.” He sat up to look at her properly, Veronica found herself shifting to attempt to appear casual.

“They’re the best we’ve got. And we all still deserve the little privacy we’re allowed. Do you mind if I come in?”

“There’s no door.”

“Even more of a reason to ask.” Like she never thought she’d see JD in his room, Veronica never thought she’d see him confused. JD who was always so sure of everything he did, who always had everyone figured out before they said a word, was looking at her with his head cocked like he was staring at an enigma or the greatest mysteries of the world.

Without saying a word, he readjusted himself so there was room on the bed for her to sit. A silent ‘yes’ that struck Veronica almost as bewildered as JD looked. Again, she had forgotten the way he talked even though it was one of his defining characteristics.

“What’s with you talking so ambiguously lately?” she asked blatantly, taking a seat next to him and opening her notebook. “I totally forgot about your… thing.”

“It’s like you’re attempting to sound normal.”

“Oh…” A blue ink spot was forming from where she was holding her pen down on the page without writing.

“That’s surprising that you want to try. That you’re still trying.”

“No, I think it’s nice. Maybe this time it won’t be spit back in your face.” Veronica felt awkward for not knowing how to respond. She looked up to see JD looking at her peculiarly again. “What?”

“You’re confusing, you’ve never been confusing before.”

“No, you’ve always been confusing. But I’ve just brushed it off as your… quirks. But you being confused by me? That’s confusing in a new way. Why am I confusing you? You always seem to… know me better than myself.”

The same uncertain face remained on JD’s face and Veronica could practically hear his voice though he never uttered a word. ‘I’m confused at you being confused by me being confused.’

“I guess we sometimes give each other more credit for knowing what’s going on than they deserve.” Veronica mused under her breath before turning back to her notebook.

Dear Diary,

I found JD in his room. Who would have thought? That’s not all that’s new. Apparently, I confuse him as well. All I did was ask if I could come into his room. Even if he doesn’t have a door it’s a common courtesy thing. Is he used to having his privacy invaded? Does he not even expect his privacy to be respected? … That has to be it, doesn’t it? Why else would he be so confused by – well – manners.

God I really do wonder what his life used to be.

Chapter Text

The new reveal about JD didn’t exactly comfort Veronica and it just added a further layer of complexity and confusion to what she was already trying to unravel.

He speaks in- not third person, God damn how do you describe it? Like a second person narrative from the perspective of the person he’s talking to. Jesus! Why’d it take me so long to figure out how to describe it properly. He’s here for cutting, but unlike Heather I think his actions were more purposeful. He watched his mother commit suicide by walking into a building his dad blew up (don’t know if he’s an arsonist or what). For whatever reason he’s constantly changing schools. And he’s not accustomed to privacy. Talk about a basket case.

Veronica read and reared over what she just wrote and shook her head. Just writing it out wasn’t going to help her piece JD together.

“Oh there you two are!” Veronica looked up to see Heather poking her head through the doorway. “Never thought I’d find either of you in here. Come to the living room, Dr. Fleming got us something and she wants us all to see it for some reason.”

Veronica looked over at JD, but he was already standing up and stretching. She was mildly disappointed that he was so willing to go. On the other hand, anything that Dr. Fleming wanted to show all of them at the same time was at the very least intriguing.

“Do you know what she could possibly want to show us?” she asked, turning back to Heather.

The blonde shrugged. “I don’t know, wouldn’t tell any of us.” With that she flounced away, probably expecting them to follow her. Veronica knew very well that if they didn’t Heather would come for them next.

Everyone else had already gathered in the small living area, including Dr. Fleming who had a couple very large gift bags at her side that had been hastily stuffed with tissue paper.

“Oh good, you found them!” Dr. Fleming said, clapping her hands together. “Veronica, I took into consideration about what you said, and I got all of you something.”

Veronica felt her face turn red as Heather’s scrunchie as everyone turned to her. She really didn’t want to know how Dr. Fleming had interpreted any of her words. “That’s so considerate of you, Dr. Fleming,” Veronica tried to say earnestly.

“Well,” the doctor said, gesturing to the bags. Everyone looked rather uncomfortable at the idea of pretending to be excited at whatever had been gotten for them. Well, everyone but Martha, who was oblivious to the tension. She walked forward and started digging through one of the bags eagerly.

“Oh Dr. Fleming, this is perfect! Thank you so much!” she exclaimed, pulling out a brand-new game of Monopoly. Veronica began to laugh but managed to hide it as a cough. She didn’t know how the doctor could think a game of Monopoly would be good for a group of teenagers she wanted to build a friendship.

Heather strutted up next, adjusting her skirt as she bent down and reached into the second bag, pulling out what looked to Veronica like a mini slow cooker. Heather must have thought something along the same lines because she made the first unflattering face Veronica had ever seen her make, as she held out of the thing with a look of confused distaste. “It’s an ice-cream machine!” Dr. Fleming waved her hands in ‘ta-da!’ to Heather’s confusion.

Heather quickly caught herself and forced a smile. “An ice-cream machine?” she questioned.

“Yes, Veronica told me that me that you and Jason like frozen treats so I thought you could make your own.” Dr. Fleming explained. Heather’s face began to twist up again and she promptly turned and dropped it into JD’s hands. Veronica could already see his mind working on how he would use it, which she supposed was about right. Where Heather was disgusted, JD was intrigued.

“There’s another treat in there for you kids. I would love to stay longer but I have work, have fun!” Without waiting for anyone else’s reaction, the therapist turns and leaves. Veronica could see the doctor praising herself for what was probably her good deed of the week.

Heather lets her façade fully drop and digs through the second bag one more time, pulling out a several multicolored sticks with matching colored plastic balls. “And what the fuck are these supposed to be?” she asks, letting the balls fall to the floor and roll under the sofa. As Heather held the sticks upright, everyone could clearly see what they were, or what they were supposed to be.

“Oh my God,” Ram snickered. “I think their supposed to be croquet mallets, but they’re plastic.”

“How very. Or they would be if they weren’t more pliable than tin foil.” Heather drawled, holding up a ball with the tips of her bony fingers before squeezing it, and thusly denting the ball.

“This sucks,” Heather scowled as she fished out the balls Heather had let roll under the couch. Veronica found it odd to see the blonde girl unhappy. Heather always looked like she was critiquing everyone in her head – she was perfect and everyone else was deserving of judgment – while Heather tended to have  pinched look on her face, like she was displeased or didn’t know how to look happy (Veronica also attributed it to her skin stretching tightly over her cheek bones). Unlike the two of them, Heather seemed genuinely happy until she obviously wasn’t. It reminded Veronica oddly of Martha, except with flamboyance and confidence. “I mean, I love croquet as much as the next person, but why would she get us the game when just to insult us with some cheap kiddy version.”

“Yes, give the homicidal kid a wooded hammer to bash everyone’s brains in.” JD snorted from behind what Veronica assumed to be the instructions to the ice cream maker.

“Well you’re definitely not going to be killing anyone with these,” Kurt said, taking one of the plastic mallets from Heather and hitting Ram with it.

“Ow!” Ram cried, grabbing the mallet from Kurt and hitting him back with it. “It can still hurt you idiot!”

“We could always play Monopoly,” Veronica suggested with fake enthusiasm, taking the game from Martha and holding it like a display girl on an infomercial.

“Please, Veronica, no one wants to play that stupid reindeer game.” Heather scoffed, shoving the rest of the plastic croquet mallets into Kurt’s arms. “Come on, we might be able to salvage this wreck by William Tell-ing off of Kurt and Ram while they do planks.”

Heather got off the floor, still looking disappointed. For whatever reason she was taking the questionably good intentions of Dr. Fleming with more cynicism than anyone else (JD being too occupied with the ice-cream machine and everyone else finding it laughably pathetic). Veronica supposed it could be from being stripped of unchaperoned trust. Felling like she was unrightfully under suicide watch (resulting in everyone being denied access to everything from scissors to a working microwave until the cutlery was replaced with plastic utensils) was understandably irksome and possibly embarrassing. JD seemed to rightfully be under careful watch, but Heather took every extra precaution as a personal insult.

“Don’t worry,” Heather reassured her girlfriend. “If all else fails we could play a life size version of Whack-a-Mole.”

Unsurprisingly JD didn’t join them in their adventure outside, instead heading to the kitchen to play with his new present. The plastic balls were so cheap that they barely flew ten feet. Any attempt to play croquet was abandoned and the girls took turns seeing who could hit a ball the farthest. Standing on Kurt or Ram’s back and hitting a ball off their head quickly lost its novelty and Heather’s suggestion of human Whack-a-Mole almost happened when Heather got aggravated and tossed her green mallet across the lawn (going farther than her ball). This incident didn’t help Heather’s spirits, and Heather pulled the cheerleader into her lap to try to cheer her up. Only Martha seemed to be enjoying herself, content with her one-person game of improvised miniature golf.

Veronica had to admit that she was bored out of her mind and didn’t know how Dr. Fleming could have thought they’d be able to entertain themselves with the crap croquet set she got them. “This is awful,” Heather griped, picking her mallet up off the ground and tossing it in the pile with everyone else’s. All Veronica could think of was how her hair was expertly French braided down her back in a black rope and that out of sheer boredom she wanted to yank it to see what would happen (she’d probably have her eyes clawed out by Heather’s red nails).

“I suggested Monopoly but noooooooo,” Veronica rolled onto her stomach from where she had been lying on her back in a small patch of shade.

“No one wants to play Monopoly, Veronica,” Heather groaned, readjusting herself in Heather’s lap.

“Honestly, would a game of Monopoly last any longer than this between us anyway?” Ram asked, holding Kurt’s feet down while he did sit ups. “If we didn’t get just as bored someone would end the game flipping the board our of anger.”

“Well I don’t know what else we could do unless you have any suggestions.” Veronica glared at him. At that point JD walked out looking uncharacteristically as put out as Heather.

“What’s wrong?” Martha asked politely.

“Machine doesn’t work, obviously,” Heather answered for him, taking a seat next to Heather and Heather. “Because it’s a piece of crap like this croquet set.”

“Machine doesn’t work, or the bowl needs to freeze first,” JD corrected her, walking over to Veronica in the shade. He looked down at her and his usual look of mischief appeared back on his face. “Sucks to play the waiting game for a piece of crap that won’t work.”

Veronica couldn’t help but giggle and Heather rolled her eyes like she wasn’t the one with Heather in her lap. “So we don’t know yet if it’s a bust. Which means we might have access to slushies.”

“How are you even going to make a slushie anyway?” Heather asked, bending over to look at JD upside-down.

“It’s not like it’s a giant popsicle you can make from Kool-Aid,” he answered, and she scowled at him. Veronica forgot that not everyone realized JD just talked that way – and Heather in particular seemed bothered by it more than anyone else, Veronica remembered the freak-out she had on him the first night.

“Well in the meantime, we’re bored,” Kurt complained as Ram made him stop doing sit-ups. “Know how to fix that?”

JD turned to grin at him and Ram groaned, smacking Kurt for complaining. “Oh God, he’s going to kill us.”

Chapter Text

Ram wasn’t completely wrong about his uneasy feelings towards JD’s grin. JD’s game, as it turned out, was a rather mashed up game of improvised Clue. Seeming to know better than to ask Veronica to tear out paper from her notebook, he asked Martha to go inside and fetch some loose-leaf paper, a handful of pins, and a bowl. Then he told everyone to write down six quarrels they might have with a person – each varying in severity – and then tear the paper so that one quarrel was a different piece of paper, before handing them out randomly to everyone (not including him as the moderator). While they were busy doing that, Veronica watched him write their names down, mark two of them (which she couldn’t see), and then jumble the names up in a bowl. Everyone was then to draw a name at random from the bowl, the two marked names were for the victim and the murderer. They were not only to find out who was who to win but also find out the quarrels between the two to know the motive. The different quarrels would also dictate how well they’d get along with each other. Veronica was surprised for how well thought out it was for such a makeshift game.

“You must be a very lonely child,” Heather remarked, as she gracefully drew a name from the bowl. JD barely dignified her with an answer and instead rolled his eyes.

Everyone seemed rather excited to play the game, Heather talking with Martha and Kurt about creating characters for the next round. JD wasn’t even trying to hide how pleased he was. Veronica closed her eyes for dramatic effect as she picked her name. ‘Ram Sweeney’ was written in small need print without a mark beside it. After everyone had their name they looked through the quarrels they had acquired.

‘Threw up on Heather Chandler after getting drunk at a party’

‘Called Ram Sweeney stupid’

‘Said Kurt Kelly he had no future’

‘Told Heather Duke to shut up’

‘Left Martha Dunstock for popularity’

‘Gave Heather McNamara a bad drink’

“Gosh, you guys are… creative,” Veronica commented looking around.

“I’ll say. Heather did you say everyone told you to shut up?” Heather asked incredulously, already exchanging quarrels and names with Heather.

“Yes,” Kurt and Ram answered at the same time.

“You were supposed to put down different things for each one,” Martha pointed out.

“No,” Heather crossed her arms, “the instructions were to put down quarrels of different severity. Depending on who told me to shut up makes it more or less severe.”

“I mean you can’t argue with her,” Veronica agreed giggling. “And Heather, you’re not just supposed to share everything with Heather whether she’s your girlfriend or not. Kurt and Ram aren’t sharing information.” As if realizing what was happening Heather’s face twisted into an ‘oh’ and she plucked her papers from her girlfriend’s perfectly manicured fingers.

The game officially commenced and Martha was surprisingly firm in refusing to give Veronica information. Kurt eventually won after mainly trial and error. Apparently, Veronica killed Heather after she threw up because Heather condemned her as a social pariah. Ram then decided that Veronica obviously killed Heather by giving her a poisoned Slurpee and framing it as a suicide (Heather disagreed, insisting she was more likely to die from a fake prairie oyster).

It was certainly much more fun than the pitiful game of croquet and another round was started immediately, the second round everyone writing up characters for themselves and creating more personalized vendettas. JD was roped into this round and everyone decided to add how they were to die – whether it made complete sense or not – and with the possibility with more than one person being able to die and/or be the murderer. Round two concluded with the revelation that Kurt and Ram killed each other in a lovers’ spat.

By the third round the Clue aspect had mostly deteriorated and instead it was more of a roleplay they made up as they went. In a surprising twist Martha killed all three Heathers for bullying her and ran off with Ram, Bonnie and Clyde style (it was Veronica’s favorite round and based on everyone’s laughter she wasn’t the only either).

It was about time for lunch and JD’s attention and concern had been turned back to his ice cream machine. Spaghetti was served again because either no one was creative enough for something else or it was the easiest to make. Whichever one it was Veronica wasn’t sure she could live off of pasta the whole summer no matter how much oregano was added.

“What the hell is this?” Heather asked, holding up a plate and tapping at it with a boney finger. Veronica stared blankly at it for a second before realizing what it was.

“Oh that’s serving size markers. It’s what JD and I got up last night before we got to the sexy fun time.” She tried to joke, hoping JD didn’t take offense but he possibly didn’t even hear, too wrapped up in his ice cream machine. Martha and Heather were watching him with rapt fascination.

Heather looked back at the plate, examining it like an ancient artifact before setting it down gently. “That’s actually really nice of both of you.” She said, not looking Veronica in the eye.

“Well it was JD’s idea, I just happened to walk in on the right time.” Veronica shrugged.

“It’s clever and very thoughtful,” Heather agreed, beginning to dole out dishes. She gave Veronica a large serving and handed her the spice jar of oregano then used the excuse of food to drag her girlfriend away from JD. Heather received a small serving, and to everyone’s surprise, ate most of it unlike the first night where she maybe ate two bites after Heather and Heather gave up prompting her. Veronica watched her twirl pasta on her fork like she twirled her black hair on her finger.

“What’re you going to test your makeshift bomb out with?” Heather asked, for once unsarcastically – well minus the makeshift bomb comment.

“Think good old Doc. Fleming got any Kool-Aid for slushies or didn’t think it all the way through?” He didn’t really answer.

“Well did she or did she not?” Veronica poked, finishing her spaghetti and getting up for a small second serving. “The suspense is killing me.”

“You seem like a person to know how to make homemade ice-cream, don’t you?” she got her response.

“Are you kidding me?” Heather demanded scowling. Veronica thought it was amusing how normally food would wipe away lipstick, but the tomato sauce made her lips look even more red.

“Were you a boy scout or something?” Heather inquired, hoping up and joining Veronica text to the pot for another serving. Despite being pale as ever, there was a noticeable difference from where the sun was starting to bleach her hair from a warm golden to something more like corn silk. If she continued staying outside so much, she’d look like a ghost by the end of summer. “Because you’re really handy and stuff, knowing how to do all these things and all.”

“He just had a lonely childhood,” Heather said with the false sweetness of condescension.

“Hey now, you’ve reached your limit for the day of snark comments picking on JD,” Veronica teased, hoping Heather would pick up on what she really meant. Thankfully she did.

“If he were a boy scout, he’d have better people skills from selling popcorn,” JD chuckled.

“That shit’s hard though!” Ram exclaimed, surprising everyone.

“Never took you as the boy scout type,” Veronica commented, trying not to giggle.

“Yeah well I quit in middle school right after they started the whole popcorn thing,” he grumbled.

“I was a girl scout as a Daisy,” Martha piped up. “I quit after graduating to a Brownie because the other girls would accuse me of eating all the cookies.” She added sadly. Heather gave her a sympathetic look and patted her gently on the arm.

“Those things are addicting though,” Kurt said, completely oblivious to the mood. “My sister was a girl scout through middle school, and I swear me and my dad always ate more than she sold. Do you guys put them in the freezer and save them for summer?”

“So how do you make ice-cream?” Heather asked, having gone back to look over JD’s shoulder. “Talking about cookies has made me crave sweets.”

“There’s ice cream still in the freezer if Kurt and Ram haven’t eaten it all already,” Heather pointed out, trying to regain her girlfriend’s attention. “Dr. Fleming didn’t think anything through when she did this, but she still congratulated herself for her good deed of the week.”

“But homemade ice-cream sounds better,” Martha argued, the talk of sweets having distracted her as well. “I’ve never had homemade ice-cream and it sounds fun to make.”

That effectively ended any further protests from Heather. However, an hour and a half and two failed ice-cream attempts later JD, Heather, Ram, Kurt, and Martha were making a very detailed list of ingredients for Dr. Fleming to get them while Heather was trying not to look too smug.

“Well now we know milk isn’t a substitute for cream and chocolate syrup isn’t a substitute for sugar and vanilla extract,” Veronica tried to say optimistically and getting promptly ignored.

“You said you could also make frozen yogurt?” Heather asked, absentmindedly running her fingers through her dark locks. JD nodded and her interests seemed to perk up. “That would be good with fresh fruit.”

“You might as well ask for a recipe book while you’re at it,” Heather sighed, clicking her perfectly filed nails boredly on the counter. She, Heather, and Veronica had stayed to watch everyone else help JD tinker with the ice cream machine out of lack of anything better to do. While Veronica had thought it cute to watch five people mess over a tiny bowl Heather had cringed the whole time at JD’s inaccuracy and substitution experiment. Now with the cleanup done and a very dejected looking everyone at the lack of frozen treats, she’d seemed to blame Veronica for inadvertently being the cause of the ice cream machine.

“You think Dr. Fleming will even get any of this stuff for us?” Ram asked.

“Nothing needs to be cut with knifes, nothing needs to be heated by an oven, nothing to be killed with. Should be fine.” JD answered, taking the mess and dumping it into the sink to wash out. Taking the pen and the paper JD hadn’t written on Kurt suggested playing ‘what am I’ in the living room.

Veronica stayed in the kitchen to help JD clean, as Heather and Heather had kindly done the dishes from lunch. JD must not have expected her to stay because he looked at her curiously then muttering “Veronica.”

“Yes-” she began to respond before realizing what he had said and dropping a bowl on the floor.

Chapter Text

JD looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “Whoops?” he asked like he hadn’t said her name at all, and Veronica was left wondering if she’d just imagined it.

But he had, she thought as she picked up the dropped bowl and placed it in the sink before grabbing a cloth to clean up the mess she had made. He said her name like he had said it- she needed her notebook to write. She couldn’t think without writing.

She hurriedly helped JD with the rest of the dishes before rushing back to her room. If he’d commented on her behavior, she hadn’t processed it.

Dear Diary,

JD said my name. He actually said my name. As himself. I swear he did. I thought maybe I’d imagined it because he acted like he hadn’t, but he did. He said it just like he’d said it last night.

Veronica jolted at the memory, casing her hand to jerk across the page.

JD said my name last night. He said my name while he was hugging me. I didn’t even notice it but he did.

I don’t think he knows he did like I’m pretty certain he didn’t notice this time. Does that mean he’s done it before? I’ve not even known him for a week.

Veronica nervously tapped her pen against the page. Her mind was going too fast for her to even write.

What do I do? It’s not like I could confront him about it. He’d either deny it or have a freak out over it. It might even make things worse. Like what if he becomes self-conscious and stops talking. He already knows what he does it weird and jokes about it as a defense mechanism.

It’s not like I could tell Dr. Fleming. She’d definitely scare him off.

No. I need to talk to him. If he’s doing it then there’s a reason and there’s a reason he’s saying my name.

JD actually needs the help this stupid program is supposed to be providing it and he’s not going to get it from anyone else. If I can help him at least a little bit then that’s something, isn’t it?

Veronica took a deep breath, closed her notebook, and carried it into the living room where everyone else except JD was laying face down on the floor. JD was sitting on the back of the couch, reminding Veronica of a bird sitting on a telephone wire looking down at the goings on below it.

“What are you doing?” She asked, hugging her notebook to her chest.

“Sulking, what does it look like?” Heather asked, not even lifting her head to answer properly. Veronica was surprised Heather would even allow herself such a moment of indignity.

“Sulking, why are you sulking? You’ve got nothing to sulk over, you could be playing croquet.” JD quipped, turning from looking down at them to look at Veronica and wink at her.

“We could play another game of JD’s game.” Veronica suggested.

“That’s not new anymore, it’s lost it’s appeal,” Kurt rolled over on his back.

“Well you can’t do this all summer,” Veronica huffed. “Like it or not we’re stuck in this hell hole and we’re going to have to find something to do.”

“There’s still Monopoly,” JD taunted. That made Heather look up to glare at him.

“What’s wrong with Monopoly?” Martha asked, who had been the only one actually happy about the game. “I like it, it’s fun.”

“You obviously land on Boardwalk first,” Heather said, brushing her black hair out of her face from laying on the floor. “Out of all the games Dr. Fleming could have gotten us she got Monopoly. Couldn’t even get Game of Life. At least that wouldn’t been mildly interesting.”

“What about you?” Ram asked JD. “You made fun the last time. Can you make Monopoly fun?”

“Oh come on now, he isn’t a miracle worker,” JD replied wrinkling his nose, though looking over at where the box was placed as if accepting the challenge.

“I doubt God could salvage Monopoly.” Heather snorted, standing up and straightening out her skirt.

“God wouldn’t say to play Monopoly,” JD got up and opened the Monopoly box and taking out some of the pieces. “God would say screw Monopoly and play poker.”

“Do we have cards?” Heather asked, the last one to get off the floor.

“I swear if we don’t even have a deck of cards.” Kurt said.

“I think I saw one in the basket that held the movies.” Martha said, walking over to dig through the bin of VHS tapes. After a few minutes she triumphantly presented them with a small packet of beat up playing cards.

“Everyone knows how to play poker right?” Heather asked, taking the cards from Martha and shuffling them between her thin fingers.

“Texas Hold’em.” Veronica shrugged. “I’ll write the rules down for anyone who doesn’t know. It’s not that hard to play.”

“Dealer!” JD called and Veronica blinked at him for a second. No one else however took notice of JD’s slight out of character comment, there was little groaning but no protests.

“Everyone knows the basics, right?” Heather asks, sorting out the fake bills according to the Monopoly rules. “I’ve played strip poker before, but I don’t know what type of poker it was.” The blonde paused and tilted her head. “Actually, I’m not sure it was even poker I was playing. The guys just kept telling me I was losing until I was naked.” A murderous look crossed Heather’s face and Veronica couldn’t blame her.

“Which one is Texas Hold’em?” Ram asked.

“Two cards each, three rounds,” JD answered, dealing out the cards after they gathered in a circle. “Round one, three cards; flop. Round two; fourth street. Round three; fifth street. Match, raise, pass or fold. Next round starts after everyone passes. Highest is five of a kind. Then straight flush, four of a kind, full house, flush, straight, three of a kind, two pair, one pair, high card.” By the time he finished explaining he’d dealt out all the cards.

“How do you know this so well?” Kurt questioned, trying to look at his cards nonchalantly.

“Why wouldn’t he?” JD responded, flipping over the first three cards for round one.

“Here, I’ve written down the card order and what they are, in case you don’t know,” Veronica said, quickly scribbling on a lose piece of paper she’d found left over from JD’s earlier game. “Straight is five cards in order, flush is five of the same suit, and straight flush is five in order of the same suit. The higher the cards are stronger your hand. If two or more people have the same hand the pot is distributed based on how strong their hands are. Heather did you make sure all the suits are completed?”

“Yup, but there’s no wild cards so you can’t do a five of a kind.” Heather said, braiding her hair like a dark rope to keep it out of her face.

“Knock to check,” JD added. “Left of the dealer starts, bid starts at two dollars.”

It was pretty clear that only JD had any actual experience with poker. Kurt and Ram knew the hand ranks but didn’t have good poker faces. Veronica quit after two rounds and volunteered herself divide the pot in case there were matching hands. For fun she donated all her money to Martha.

Soon it was just down to JD, Kurt, Ram, and Heather because everyone else kept folding. Kurt and Ram would fold after the second round if they didn’t have a good hand. Heather’s bitch face kept JD from reading her so it’d turn into both of them trying to out bluff each other.

After about three games of just Heather and JD playing against each other they switched to Blackjack face up. At least Veronica could try to card count Blackjack. Blackjack was a little more fun because it wasn’t just Heather and JD competing against each other and the rounds were shorter.

Martha tried to explain Rummy to all of them, but Kurt and Ram kept getting confused about the different runs and the afternoon ended in Go Fish which JD of course had somehow figured out how to add betting to. Despite it being such a childish game, all three of the Heathers and Ram were just as invested in the game as they were with the previous two games. JD didn’t seem to care at this point, more interested in watching.

Veronica got up and walked into the kitchen after offering to make a bowl of popcorn for them. She was surprised when Kurt followed her in. “Hey Veronica, you’re the most well-adjusted person here, aren’t you?” he asked, not looking her in the eyes.

“Why would you say that, Kurt?” Veronica asked, genuinely surprised.

“Well Heather is-, and Heather is-, and Heather is-,” he did a gesture for each of the girls. “Martha is stuck in a bubble of sunshine and rainbows, Ram has to deal with his father, and JD is… JD. You’re the only person I feel like I could talk to, Dr. Fleming being a disillusioned hippie.”

“I mean, of course you can talk to me. I’m not really sure I’m qualified to help.” Veronica shrugged a little modestly. “Though I guess even JD’s more qualified then Dr. Fleming. What do you want to talk about?”

“Just, how are you so well adjusted? What do you do? All I can think about is trying to keep my grades high enough to continue sports so I can go to college and then maybe become a college burn out. Ram says I shouldn’t worry so much, but how can I? I mean I’m predestined for it, a future gas station attendant.” Kurt rambled and it was clear it was something he’d been keeping in for a while.

“Wait Kurt, slow down, take a breath.” Veronica tried to calm him down. “Have you talked to Ram about any of these worries?”

“I told you Ram just tells me not to let it get to my head. He doesn’t understand. And he’s already trying to get his dad off his back about being a homo. He doesn’t need to deal with me too.” At this point Kurt had started bouncing on the balls of his feet. “And he shouldn’t have to deal with me, I should be able to manage myself. I’m not Ram’s responsibility.”

Veronica realized her fingers were busily tapping against the counter, distracting her from whatever Kurt was saying. She hadn’t expected to deal with anyone else’s problems besides JD’s and her notebook was left in the living room. “Look Kurt,” she said, getting a bowl as the popcorn was finishing. “I just write everything down so I can sort out my ideas. That’s all I do.” Cutting off anything else he was about to say, she walked back into he living room popcorn in hand.

Chapter Text

Okay so I feel you guys are owed this since either one of you or several of you are still very persistently checking in on this obviously abandoned fic

I love that you keep hope for so long but you also scare me because I’m non confrontational

I might rewrite this fic in advent of the Heathers West End proshot coming out but I’m not going to be finishing this as it is, I can’t go back and read my old writing because it makes me cry (literally why did none of you bully me out of never using the same verb twice, I was such a pretentious little fuck)

But here is the rough outline/ending I was planning on working up to that I will keep if I rewrite the story (currently)

TW: suicide attempt/cutting bc JD (big surprise)

Everyone continues to suffer through Dr. Flemming’s bad therapy, mostly they learn to help each other so it seems like therapy camp was good for something right? (I have a smut scene written y’all. And if you think you would’ve wanted it no you don’t. You don’t want a smut scene written by my virginal ass you dodged a bullet)

Heather M and Kurt start fake dating after they get out and everyone minus JD still get together regularly throughout senior year or high school

One day Veronica gets a call from JD where he’s obviously distraught and apologizing while there’s yelling in the background, she tries to ask him what’s wrong but he hangs up

Worried Veronica calls 911 to his house later she’s informed JD attempted suicide and is in the hospital

Rounding up the rest of the gang they all go visit JD and Veronica has her first and only run in with Big Bud Dean

Basically Veronica pisses Bud off and he refuses to let JD have contact with Veronica or anyone else, plus they’re moving anyway so Veronica can’t track them down

It ends pretty depressing with Veronica not being able to reach out to JD after that but the epilogue takes place while Veronica is starting her first day in law school at Harvard and she’s sitting at a small local cafe when she’s recognized by JD who is a barista there coincidentally

The next place Bud got relocated to was actually Boston but JD bolted the minute he turned 18 and has been working small jobs with just a GED since then

Of course Veronica tells him what everyone else has been up to (the only ones I can remember is that Heather C is I think in fashion and Kurt or Ram is still in sports)

They trade phone numbers hopeful ending

Fin.