Chapter Text
Dear Diary, I guess I should’ve expected JD’s window would’ve been locked with a fucking gigantic padlock.
Veronica harrumphed as she walked along the road, barely lit by the moon, her feet aching. To be fair, she wasn’t originally intending on walking in heels for this long. First to JD’s house, now… no clue. Her plan had been to get laid in her last night socially alive, but she couldn’t do that. Veronica racked her brains, despairingly trying to think of solutions to her Very Big Problem. It was kind of hard to think though. She was quite a bit tipsy. She really did not want to face Heather on Monday. Of course, she did know where Heather’s house was, but was she really that desperate? The night was cold and clear, and she looked up at the stars as she walked the concrete path. A breeze fluttered through her hair and she shivered as a chill ran across her skin. Reminding her so much of the icy cold eyes of… goddamn it. She was going to have to apologise. And since she was already out, it may as well be now.
She got to Heather’s house around twenty minutes later. She could see the light in Heather’s room, on the second story. Heather’s awake, that’s a good start. Veronica thought about knocking on the door, but then Heather might not let her in, and that would be bad because then she wouldn’t be able to apologise. Then again, there was a ladder on the side of the house. Lightbulb.
Veronica was on the awning of Heather’s house now, outside her window. That window, unlike JD’s, did not seem to have a lock. But Veronica thought she’d better knock anyway. What she was doing was insane, but she didn’t want to break and enter, you know? Yes, Veronica Sawyer is a dumbass, but she likes to think she’s a polite dumbass. She rapped her knuckles on the window pane. One, two, three.
Heather’s footsteps stalked towards her, and when she came into view, a shocked look came across her face. Heather quickly opened the window and hissed at Veronica, “What the hell are you doing, are you insane?! Get off my roof, you goddamn moose!”
“Heather, I’ve come to apologise,” Veronica looked at her.
“Why the fuck did you climb on my roof instead of coming to the front door?!”
“Um,” Veronica grinned nervously, “because I’m an idiot, obviously. Anyway, can I apologise now?”
Heather folded her arms and raised an eyebrow, “Hope you brought knee pads, bitch.”
Veronica hopped through the window into Heather’s room, and looked around. The queen-sized bed stood in the middle, covered by soft pink sheets and a mountain of pillows. The wardrobe was open, and Veronica saw all her red outfits, accompanied with shades of black, grey and white. Heather was still wearing her party dress, but she’d taken her jacket and heels off. Her makeup had been removed, revealing a light decoration of freckles across her aquiline nose and rosy cheeks. It softened her appearance, making her appear almost human. Despite all that, those piercing stone-blue eyes glared right back at Veronica, just like the mythic bitch she was.
“Sawyer, snap out of it,” Heather barked, bringing Veronica out of her trance.
“Sorry, Heather,” Veronica gulped, “Right, so here we go…” She then faced Heather properly, directly opposite her, “Listen, Heather, I’m so-”
Heather let out an evilly sweet laugh, “Do I look like I’m kidding? Down!” The girl sat on the edge of her bed, legs crossed, looking at Veronica as she knelt down in front of her pitifully.
Veronica began again, “I’m really sorry, Heather. I shouldn’t have called you a bitch.”
“Is that all?” Heather eyed her, incredulous at the lack of apology, “What about my shoes?”
“You should have listened to me when I said I wasn’t feeling well,” Veronica mumbled, her brain hazy with her tipsy state, then clapped her hand to her mouth.
“Excuse me?” Heather was outraged.
“Come on, Heather!” Veronica shuffled forward, right in front of her, “Just tell me what I can do to make it up to you!”
“I already told you what you need to do,” Heather uncrossed her legs and leant forward, her face inches from Veronica’s, “Apologise, Sawyer.”
Veronica rested her cheek on Heather’s knee, “I’m sorry, Heather. I don’t know what else I can say other than that. I’m sorry.”
Heather’s face flushed, “What- what are you doing?”
Veronica then realised where she was and her eyes widened as she jerked away, “Shit, I didn’t mean to do that. I’m kind of drunk, if you haven’t noticed.”
Heather scoffed, then she began to giggle. It filled Veronica with an uncommon feeling. A light one, a… happy one. Veronica had only heard Heather genuinely laugh a few times in her time of knowing her. The rest of her laughs were fake, or laughing at someone else’s misery. Heather’s laughter was like ringing bells, sweet and merry. Her eyes twinkled and her mouth, free from its usual red coating, spread into a wide smile. Veronica, don’t you dare be attracted to her. She’s a megabitch. She could ruin you . Veronica internally slapped herself.
Dear Diary, is it me or is Heather Chandler really fucking pretty? God, I’m a dumbass. I shouldn’t have gotten ridiculously horny before I came here. Also, why JD, of all people? Anyway, shut up.
Veronica then internally panicked about what her first thoughts had been. She’d never really thought about anyone other than boys in a romantic context. There had been a few times where a girl had made her heart flutter a little by touching her, sure, but Veronica had been told by her parents that it was normal. ‘ All girls have girl crushes, Ronnie, I’ve had them too ,’ her mother had said when Veronica had questioned her about it. Besides, everyone found Heather Chandler attractive, why shouldn’t she? Mac had even told Veronica that it would be a shock if there was anyone who didn’t find Chandler attractive, and that had quelled Veronica’s worries.
So, she brushed off those thoughts. It was just an attraction in her mellow state. She knew that many other girls made out with their friends when they were drunk, so it must be normal.
Once the laughter had died down, Heather tilted her head thoughtfully, “I still want you to apologise, Veronica. Otherwise, you’re dead meat on Monday.”
“Damn, how many times do I have to say sorry?” Veronica huffed.
“Until I’m satisfied you mean it,” Heather’s grin was incredibly condescending.
“God, you’re insufferable sometimes,” Veronica shook her head and got up to sit beside her.
Heather faced her indignantly, “What are you doing? Get back on the floor, you stupid fuck!”
Veronica said nothing for a moment, surveying Heather with contempt. It filled Heather with a feeling she despised. Veronica wasn’t afraid of her like the others, wasn’t compliant and didn’t cower before her. It made Heather feel afraid. Who was she if not someone to fear? And how dare this stupid, little shit make her feel scared? It was Heather’s clique, Heather’s school, Heather’s life. She should be in control.
“Mm, no,” Veronica smiled innocently as she leant towards Heather, warning alarms going off in her head. Back the fuck up, Veronica. You’re in deep shit .
“Jerk. You really do want to wanna be like Dumptruck, huh?” Heather said, her annoyance clear.
“Shh.”
Heather’s heart jolted as Veronica pressed her lips to hers, planting a small kiss on the corner of her mouth. Then Veronica leapt back.
“Oh my God, Heather, I’m so sorry, I’m tipsy and-”
“Veronica, shut up,” Chandler was dangerously quiet.
She did so immediately.
Dear Diary, I am so dead.
“I can see you’re not in the state to make it up to me now,” Heather said, her tone falsely sweet, “So, you’ll stay here and maybe I’ll forget about what you just did.”
“Where-where will I sleep?” Veronica asked cautiously. Why was Heather being nice to her? Heather could ruin her for what she’d just done. It was enough to, not only put her at the bottom of the social ladder, but get her bullied and harassed for the rest of her school life, and probably after that too.
“Well, you’re already on the floor now, aren’t you?” Heather stood up.
Veronica held back an annoyed retort, “Can I have a pillow, or a blanket, or something?”
Heather looked around her room exasperatedly, then stalked over to her desk where her jacket was. She threw it on top of Veronica, who rolled her eyes slightly, but accepted that it was at least something. She lay back on the floor at the end of Heather’s bed, but before she could close her eyes, she heard, “Not at the end, Sawyer, God. You’re not a dog.” Heather held back the following sentence about her being a bitch.
“Then where?” Veronica frowned.
Heather gestured to the space to the right of Heather’s bed. Right next to where Heather usually slept. Damn.
Heather turned out the light after Veronica had settled on the floor next to the tall bed. Veronica drifted to sleep after a few minutes, but was awoken sometime later by rapid shifting in the bed above her.
“Heather?” Veronica whispered into the dark, “Are you okay?”
No response. She turned on the lamp and saw that Heather was near the edge of her bed, closest to Veronica. She was asleep, but her expression was painful and incredibly distressed. Her arms shook and her head twitched, and every so often, the slightest whimper escaped her lips.
“Heather!” Veronica sat up on her knees, kneeling as tall as she should so she wouldn’t be standing over Heather. As soon as she touched her, Heather shot awake, and jolted up, her breathing fast and panicked.
“Fuck- God, Veronica, don’t do that!” Heather shook her head, rubbing her eyes that seemed to have filled with… tears?
“Heather, you looked like you were having a- like a bad nightmare!” Veronica worried, “Are you okay?!”
“It’s whatever,” Heather huffed. She pulled her knees up and hugged them, “It’s the same dream over and over again, and it still fucking scares me. Shouldn’t I have gotten used to it by now?”
Veronica opened her mouth to reply but was shot down by Heather.
“That was a rhetorical question, Sawyer.”
“What’s it about?” Veronica asked.
Heather glared at her, “It doesn’t matter. I’ve had these night terrors since- since last year. I’d like to believe it’s my Pluto in the 12th house. It’s what Mac says to make me feel better. She loves astrology, you know.”
Veronica smiled, “Yeah. It’s sweet. I don’t know how she can believe we magically have traits based on where the planets were when we were born, but if it makes her happy, I don’t mind.”
“Sounds like what someone with Capricorn placements would say,” Heather smirked.
Veronica bulked, “What?! How did you know?!”
“It’s obvious, really. Didn’t I tell you you have good bone structure?”
A warm feeling filled Veronica’s chest. Here she was with Heather goddamn Chandler, having a civil conversation, no insults, no dry comments, just… banter? About Heather McNamara’s special interest, no less. Veronica made a note to let her talk to her about it. She loved hearing Mac’s infodumps.
She was relieved that Chandler had calmed down, the conversation distracting her from her previous distress. Heather seemed… lighter. More free. The blonde girl’s hair was messy, something that was very unusual to Veronica. Heather Chandler was always perfect. Or seemed that way. Veronica knew there was more to her than everyone else thought. It was part of the reason she wasn’t scared of her. You can’t be scared of something scary when you know there’s something (hopefully) good underneath, right?
***
Heather felt odd. Obviously. She’d had that same fucking nightmare again. The one where she was suffocated by a rough hand, helpless at the disposal of the faceless monster above her. The one where she tried desperately to escape, but was helpless as the monster terrorised her. Heather never told anyone what the dream was about, much less where it had originated from. No one needed to know.
It’d been the reason she’d made Veronica lay on the floor next to her, instead of at the foot of the bed. She wouldn’t have cared if it made her seem like a dog. She would’ve liked to make her lay there and call her a bitch, payback for before. But tonight she knew she needed someone next to her. Someone safe. Veronica didn’t need to know that though. She was blissfully unaware of what Heather still had to deal with.
“Well, you also called me a greasy little nobody, is that something to do with astrology?” Veronica said playfully.
“Capricorn risings generally have greasier hair, at least that’s what Heather told me,” Heather said off-handedly, “You’re lucky I gave you my jacket. You’re not so greasy tonight.”
Veronica batted her eyes, “Aw, thanks, Heather. You’re such a charmer.”
A light pink blush dusted Heather’s cheeks, “Shush.”
A smug grin spread across Veronica’s tired face, “Not shut up? Going soft on me, Chandler?”
“Ugh,” Heather grabbed one of her pillows and threw it at Veronica, “Don’t be a pillowcase.”
There was a silence.
“So, um, do you wanna go back to sleep, or…” Veronica’s voice trailed off.
Heather frowned. Going back to sleep meant a chance of having that nightmare again. Being alone in a big bed with heavy sheets always carried that risk. It wasn’t Heather’s fault she needed the weighted blanket to sleep.
She rolled her eyes, annoyed at what she was about to say, “Veronica, you look cold. There’s enough space for both of us in this bed.”
Veronica tilted her head, confused, “Oh, it’s fine, I’m not-”
“Just get in,” Heather said sharply.
“Rightio,” Veronica shut her mouth and walked around to the other side of Heather’s bed, and slid in. It was warmer than she had imagined, the sheets heavy and swamping, yet still soft. No wonder Heather loved this bed. Veronica lay on her back, her arms rigid by her sides, not wanting to touch Heather. The girl in question switched the light off again and suddenly the room was dark again. It took a while for Veronica’s eyes to adjust to the darkness, the light from the moon outside seeping through the curtains. She glanced over at Heather. She looked to be asleep, thank God. Unlike Veronica, she was on her side, facing away. Her arms and legs curled inwards, so really, the only part of Heather that wasn’t covered in blankets was her head. The sight of blankets jolted Veronica, reminding her of the absurdity of where she was.
Dear Diary, out of all things expected to come out of tonight, sharing a bed with Heather Chandler was not even close to one.
Veronica had been Heather’s favourite recently, sure, but did that really constitute what had happened tonight? They went by the label of best friends, but tonight was really only one of very few times where they actually acted that way. Heather Chandler was a very private person. The only person who had known her longer than middle school was Heather McNamara, who had been her best friend since kindergarten. Chandler never seemed to want to talk to anyone about anything, unless it was pranks or bullying. Everyone either thought that was it, or knew there was more but didn’t care to see it. Not Veronica. She wanted to see Heather Chandler underneath all the bitchiness, underneath all those layers she’d built up to seem perfect in a school where no one was perfect. She wanted to see the real Heather.
***
Veronica hated mornings. Especially when she woke up with a headache from her party drinking. She tried to yawn, but she choked as she inhaled something fluffy and soft. She opened her eyes. Hair? Blonde, curly hair muffled her squeak as she realised where she was and who was cuddling her. Heather’s head rested underneath Veronica’s chin, her breaths slow and even, so much different from last night when she’d been having that nightmare. Her arm was draped around Veronica’s middle, her hand falling limp over her side, and as Veronica tried to move her legs, she realised one of Heather’s had bent over the top of them.
Dear Diary, what absolute fuckery is going on. Satan herself is cuddling up to me like Martha’s goddamn Ragdoll. Heather fucking Chandler is asleep in my arms. Does this make me a kind of God?
Heather sighed in her sleep and nestled her head further into the crook of Veronica’s neck. The hand that had previously been limp suddenly grasped Veronica’s waist firmly and she stifled a yelp of pain as the red acrylics dug into the soft skin. Veronica shifted so that Heather’s head rested on her upper arm as the arm went underneath her neck, resting Veronica’s hand softly on the sleeping girl’s back, a thumb gently rubbing back and forth across the pink, patterned fabric of Heather’s sleeping robe.
Veronica didn’t know how long they lay there together, their bodies entangled. It could’ve been minutes or hours, and Veronica wouldn’t have known the difference. She was too busy dozing and holding Heather close to her. After a while though, her head started to pound more intensely. She didn’t want to leave Heather and the warmth of their bodies pressed together, the comfort of the soft, weighted sheets and the springy mattress. Alas, hangovers feel like shit.
She slid out of Heather’s embrace, tucking a cream-coloured curl behind the girl’s ear as she stood up to go to the kitchen. She made a note to talk to Heather about why there was an embrace in the first place, but a slender hand caught her by the skirt and Heather grunted, “Where you goin’?” A faint southern twang stood out in Heather’s voice to Veronica.
“Uhm, to- to the kitchen?” Veronica stuttered, alarmed at Heather’s sudden awakening.
“Fix me a Prairie Oyster, will you?” Heather’s voice was muffled, as she still had not bothered to face up from her pillow.
“Sure thing, boss,” Veronica rolled her eyes, fighting off a smile.
After Veronica had made the beverage- and gagged at the smell of all the gross ingredients put together- and Heather had chugged it all, she sat on the bed as Heather flopped back, sighing.
“I don’t know why you insist on having those,” Veronica chuckled, “They don’t even work.”
“As long as I believe it works, it works,” Heather sniffed, “Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of the Placebo effect?”
“You’re a goose, you know,” Veronica smiled. Despite what most people thought, Heather Chandler was not the usual air-headed bitch. Of course, she was known for her beauty, but if in some alternate universe she wasn’t considered absolutely gorgeous, she’d definitely be able to get by with her brains. Unless it was maths or anything to do with reading. Heather always made Veronica read out the questions to her so she wouldn’t have to be embarrassed by struggling to read them.
“So, uh, am I forgiven, Heather?” Veronica asked tentatively.
Heather looked up and contemplated her. The blue eyes bored into Veronica’s brown ones. “You’re on thin ice, Sawyer. You are forgiven, however, that can be taken away at any given moment should you fuck up again.”
Veronica paused, then remembered what she’d originally intended on saying, “Heather, why were you cuddling me?”
Heather inhaled sharply, then regained her control and shrugged, “I was cold. You’re warm. I don’t know, I didn’t mean to.”
Veronica raised an eyebrow, “The Heather Chandler I know would’ve let herself freeze before she ever cuddled up to someone. Who are you and what have you done with Heather?”
“Don’t be a dumbass,” Heather rolled her eyes, “Anyway, you should leave now.”
“Right,” Veronica straightened out her dress, “See you Monday, Chandler.”
Heather gave a small smile as Veronica swiftly left her bedroom, the sound of the front door closing a few moments later. Then her face dropped and she hissed, “Shit!” She cradled her face in her hands and slumped her shoulders. She had meant to cuddle up to Veronica. Very much so.
She’d woken up and seen Veronica lying next to her, sleeping peacefully. The way that soft moonlight had illuminated her tan face, given a silvery sheen to her dark, chestnut brown hair. Heather’s eyes had followed the outline of Veronica’s profile, almost magnetically drawn to her. All this had given her an overwhelming feeling. She didn’t know how to describe it other than overwhelming. It was like Veronica’s arms were a flower, and despite Heather being a queen bee, not a worker, she too had found herself in their embrace.
And now she was panicking. Veronica was right. Heather Chandler did not cuddle up to people, much less people who had kissed her after coming in through her bedroom window.
This was wrong, all of it. Everything was so confusing. The worst thing of all was that not only had Heather liked being that close to Veronica, she now missed her touch.
Heather rolled off her bed and stalked over to her vanity. “What the fuck is going on with you, Heather?!” she spat at her reflection. It was too much to think about right now. She lay back in her bed and forced herself to sleep. Before she did, however, she thought about those weird feelings one last time. Probably just hangover, she thought, hopefully. She ignored the fact she’d never felt them before.