Chapter Text
The grin on Veronica’s face matched that of the Cheshire Cat as she stood outside the movies, huddled with Mac, as Heather and Duke had yet to arrive. Cars lazily drove by, leaving trails of greyish smoke from the exhaust pipes on the cold Autumn evening, and the crowd around the two girls buzzed with excitement. The film began at 6pm, and Veronica thought she’d get there early to save seats, but many others had had the same idea, and the theatre attendants refused to open the door until five minutes before the film started.
“Do you know when Heather’s gonna get here?” Veronica looked up at Mac, her breath forming a cloud that slowly dissipated.
“I think she’s picking up Heather in her car,” Mac said, still facing the road, “they’ll be here soon, you know Heather likes to be on time.”
The shorter girl nodded, pretending she knew which Heather.
“Duke,” Mac clarified.
Veronica shook her head, smiling. Of course.
Dear Diary, I would’ve thought I could tell which Heather by now, it’s so confusing when all their names are the same. It’s like a secret language, except it’s not secret, it’s just being able to tell. Which I can’t sometimes. At least when I say I have a crush on Heather I don’t have to specify. Heather crush squared? I don’t even know, man.
“Hey, look, there she is!” Mac jumped up, waving furiously to a green Jeep pulling over to the other side of the road.
A few moments later, the infamous tall blonde figure of the red Heather slid out of the passenger seat, gracefully landing on red heels and shaking her hair back, and folded her arms waiting. A girl that looked way too small to be driving soon strutted around the bonnet of the car, her long emerald coat swishing around the back of her knees, curly black hair bouncing. The two began to walk together towards Veronica and Mac, but Duke tripped and almost fell into the ditch, Chandler only just catching her by the waist. Mac snorted, then cringed, “Sorry, laughing at that is mean.”
“No, it’s okay,” Veronica assured, “It’s always a little bit funny when someone trips, and we know Heather can’t help it.”
“She has always had issues with coordination,” Mac nodded, frowning thoughtfully.
“Well, yes, she has dyspraxia.”
“...I’m so sorry, I’ve forgotten what dyspraxia is,” Mac apologised.
“It’s like dyslexia, but for coordination. Like, it’s why Heather’s so clumsy. You ever notice how she hits her shoulder on doorways heaps?”
“Oh! I remember,” Mac said, “Wait, how did you know she was dyspraxic? I don’t think she’s ever told me or Heather.”
“Oh, um,” Veronica flushed. She told me when she was diagnosed when we were eight, and we got excited together because she was happy that she wasn’t just stupid for not being more careful . “She- she told me?”
“You don’t sound very sure of that, Ronnie,” Mac cocked her head to the side, suspicions raised.
“No, it’s true… it was just in a different context,” Veronica waved her hands vaguely, trying to dismiss the topic, “Anyway, hi Heathers!”
“Evening, Veronica. Hey, Mac,” Duke acknowledged, standing opposite her to be next to Heather. Veronica’s stare softened, the prettiness of the girl in front of her taking her nervous focus. Duke’s black curls framed her face in a delicate way, free from the signature green ribbon. The dark eyes stared back at her, prompting Veronica to avert her gaze.
“Chandler,” Veronica nodded in acknowledgement, not looking into the girl’s eyes.
“Sawyer,” Chandler said coldly.
“Is it time to go in yet?” Mac blurted out.
“A couple more minutes, Mac,” Veronica intertwined her arm with Mac’s arm, smiling up at her. She gave a gentle squeeze as a comforting gesture, and Mac returned it gratefully.
***
“I’m paying, don’t worry,” Veronica gently pushed Mac’s outstretched hand.
“But-”
“I got it,” Veronica patted her arm, “If I’m dragging you all here, I feel obligated to pay for it.”
“But you’re not exactly rolling in cash, are you?” Mac said bluntly, raising an eyebrow.
Veronica held a hand to her chest dramatically, “Wow, Heather, are you judging my financial status?!”
“Um, no. I would never do that,” Mac blinked, sincere.
“She’s being sarcastic,” Duke piped up.
“Oh!” Mac turned and beamed at Duke, “Thank you, Heather!”
“No problem,” Duke grunted, slightly pink. Whether from the cold or… something else, no one could tell.
Their tickets told them their seats were in the back row, so the four filed along. Mac, then Veronica, then Duke, then Heather. Veronica sat on the edge of her seat, grinning and bouncing her legs, her fists clenched in anticipation. Mac stared at her fondly, eyes creased in enjoyment, seeing the girl so happy. Duke and Heather, on the other hand, were sitting rigid. Duke’s arms hugged around her middle, inside her emerald coat, and both Heather’s legs and arms were crossed, a stony expression set on her face. Veronica paid no notice to the grumpy two, instead focussing directly ahead on the large screen.
Halfway through the film, Veronica found herself surrounded by three girls intensely surveying the screen, eyes wide open and mouths slightly ajar. Suddenly, a jump scare shook the theatre and all four of the girls reacted. Chandler and Duke swore, while Mac squealed and grabbed Veronica’s arm tightly. The sudden warm pressure on Veronica’s arm jolted her slightly, in a different way from the fear caused by the televised jumpscare. She turned to look at Mac, her eyebrows slightly raised in surprise.
“Oh, sorry, Ronnie,” Mac’s cheeks went slightly pink, attempting to pull her hand back. The brown doe eyes gazed in a way that seemed innocent, yet concerned. Veronica felt a little twinge in her chest, but it wasn’t unpleasant.
“No, no, it’s fine!” Veronica hurriedly assured her, reaching across to keep her hand there. The two hands joined and the two girls inhaled at the same time.
Mac beamed at Veronica, then shifted to face the theatre screen. Veronica blinked and shook her head. She glanced at the other two girls next to her. Duke sat upright, her hands pulled together in her lap, the dark eyes determinedly focussing ahead, but not really on the film. Veronica peered behind her to see Heather, but the only part of her that was visible was her mess of blonde locks. Draping over Duke’s shoulder.
“Heather!” Veronica hissed, alarming Duke, “Is Heather asleep on your shoulder?!”
“I didn’t choose this, Sawyer!” Duke whispered furiously, “If she dribbles, she walks home!”
“Ew!” Mac said.
“Oi, shut up!” a guy’s voice barked from in front of them. The three girls gave a grudging apology. Veronica settled back into her seat, and felt the same warmth she had before as Mac slumped gently onto her shoulder.
***
Despite the others’ assumptions, Heather was not asleep. She had, for a few seconds, dozed off, but suddenly awoke as she realised who she was leaning on. Rather than deal with the awkwardness of apologising and sitting back upright, she’d decided pretending to be asleep was her best bet. Heather had almost jolted up when Duke had made the dribble statement, as if she would dribble, that’s fucking disgusting. No, Heather spent the duration of the film thinking intensely. How could she make it up to Mac? God, Heather Chandler doesn’t apologise, she’s not a fucking pillowcase. But when it comes to your best friend of over a decade, whom you fucked over by causing so much distress she had a meltdown, what else can you do? She didn’t even know why she’d gotten so angry in the first place. Jealousy, perhaps? Fuck that, Heather Chandler doesn’t get jealous. She and the others had fucked the same guys before. But Mac isn’t those guys. She isn’t a guy at all. She’s Thea, sweet Thea, her best friend.
Formulating some sort of plan in her head might get her going.
Hi, Heather. No, call her Thea. That’s her special name. Hey, Thea. I’m going straight off the bat here, I’m sorry. Sorry doesn’t really feel enough. I fucked up real bad. God, how the fuck do people do this?!
Hey, Thea. I get- no, I understand- if you don’t want to see me, or speak to me. But I want you- no, I would like- if you could listen to me speak. I don’t want to ask for forgiveness, because it’s selfish. But also I kinda do. That’s not the point. I shouldn’t have pushed you like that. I’m sorry I made you feel so bad. That sounds too fake.
How am I supposed to make it sound real?
“Make what sound real?” a voice hissed.
Shit, she’d said that out loud. Heather tried to pretend she was still asleep, but she wasn’t very good at it.
“Sit up, you fucker, I know you’re awake,” Duke spat.
Heather begrudgingly sat back in her seat, glaring at the smaller girl as she crossed her arms.
“Mind giving a warning before you turn into a slob on me?” Duke scoffed.
“Shut up, Heather!” Heather snapped.
“Sorry, Heather.” Duke’s jaws were clenched. She grabbed the hem of the emerald coat and swept it over her legs, not-accidentally swiping it close to Heather’s face, and came to rest on the shoulder of Veronica’s that Mac wasn’t on.
Heather felt a pang of loneliness, seeing the three bunched up together. Yellow, blue, green. All connected colours. Red was an outsider, really. A powerful colour, but the cost of power comes at the price of togetherness.
***
The four girls stood outside the cinema, the cold night dark and bone-chilling.
“How are you two getting home?” Duke eyed Mac and Veronica.
“Well, we were thinking of walking, but I guess we didn’t think this far ahead that it would be dark. And Westerburg isn’t exactly the safest place in the world,” Mac shrugged, her lips pulled together in an awkward smile.
“I can drive you,” Duke shook her head.
“Are you sure?” Veronica made direct eye contact. Is it really best for those two to be in the same car?
Duke gave a vague wave, brushing her off. She likes the front seat, the princess.
“Heather and I’ll go in the back seat,” Veronica announced, rather loudly.
“Yes!” Mac linked arms with Veronica.
Chandler nodded, silent. She stepped up into the Jeep and sat. Staring forward, Heather watched the street lights and the gentle trickle of traffic travelling up and down the generic street.
“ Seatbelt , Heather,” Duke quipped as the three others got in.
“Shut up , Heather,” Heather glared at the girl next to her.
***
“Here’s your house, Veronica,” Duke pulled to the side of the road, “Veronica?”
“I think she’s asleep,” Mac’s voice was soft. Duke looked up in the rear-view mirror and saw that, indeed, Veronica had slumped onto Mac, her thick brown hair covering her face.
“What is everyone’s thing with shoulders?” Duke scoffed.
Mac gave a knowing look, “I don’t think you can speak on that.”
Duke flushed, and restarted the car, “She’ll have to stay at your house, Heather, you’re the only one who could carry her out.”
“That’s okay, Dad wouldn’t mind,” Mac shrugged with the shoulder Veronica didn’t have her head on.
Heather looked behind her seat at the two girls. She smiled slightly, seeing Veronica completely knocked out. Probably stayed up all last night in excitement. Then her eyes drifted upwards to see Mac gazing dolefully right at her, and her smile fell. She was pretty tonight, as always. ‘ How are you feeling?’ She signed.
‘Fine.’ Mac lifted her hand and signed back.
‘Can I talk to you later?’
‘Depends.’
‘On?’ Heather raised an eyebrow.
‘Is it going to be a shit apology?’
Heather paused, her cheeks reddening. ‘ Hopefully not.’
Mac gave a faint giggle, then spoke, “Heather?”
“Mm?” Duke said, keeping her focus on the road.
“Heather’s coming to my house as well,” Mac nodded, thinking, “You could too if you wanted, but I dunno how your parents would feel.”
Duke grimaced, “I’ve already done that twice this term, I think the phrase ‘third time lucky’ doesn’t apply here.”
“True,” Mac acknowledged, “Don’t feel left out though, okay? You’re always in our-” at least, in my “-hearts.”
“I’ll keep that noted.”
Focussing back on herself, Mac felt conflicted. At the same time, she wanted to make up with Heather, but on the other, Heather was shit at apologising. And it wasn’t the act of apologising that made Mac nervous, that’s fine, but would everything be okay? Would Heather be better? How could she be sure that it wouldn’t happen again? I need to find out why it happened. Why did she do it? It hadn’t been the first time it had happened, but the other times had a reason. Well, possible reason.
A shift on her shoulder brought her out of the racing thoughts. Veronica’s head had moved further into the crook of her neck, a hand stabilising her.
“Hey, Ronnie,” she whispered.
“Hey, Mac,” Veronica mumbled sleepily, “You’re really sweet, y’know?”
Mac wiggled in her seat, a grin spread across her face, “Aw, thank you! You’re sweet too.”
“You’re sweeter, though,” the brown-haired girl insisted.
“Well, I don’t know about that,” Mac frowned.
“She’s right,” Duke announced, “I think you’re the sweetest of anyone ever.”
Mac’s cheeks heated up, “Well, that’s very nice of you to say, Heather.”
“Um,” Duke coughed, “No- no problem?”
“She’s not good at taking compliments,” Mac whispered, a little loudly, to Veronica.
“Hey!” Duke exclaimed.
“You can’t say I’m wrong.”
“...fine. We’re at your house, anyway,” Duke huffed.
“Wait what?” Veronica sat upright, “Isn’t my house first?”
“Well, yes, but you were sleeping so Heather said you should come to my house,” Mac shrugged, undoing her seatbelt, “I’m sure your parents will be okay with that.”
“Oh, uh, sure,” Veronica scratched her head. She didn’t expect this. But whichever way the wind blows, I guess. “Thanks for the ride, Heather.”
“Yeah, thanks, Heather,” Mac beamed to the girl in the driver’s seat.
“You’re welcome,” Duke said.
Heather stayed in her seat, frozen with apprehension. I don’t think I can do this, I can’t do it, I just can’t right now. Her hands gripped the skirt of her red dress and her brow knitted in a conflicted expression.
“My house next,” she mumbled.
“What?” both Mac and Duke said.
“But aren’t you coming with me and- Veronica and I?” Mac said, a little dejected.
“No.”
Duke looked back and gave Mac a reproachful look. Mac huffed and gritted her teeth, then pushed the car door open and jumped out, Veronica following behind her. Heather watched her march angrily towards the house, yellow dress swishing around her knees.
“Heather-” Duke began.
“Shut up, Heather,” Heather said, tired, “I don’t have the energy to argue.”
“Mm,” Duke frowned, starting the Jeep once again. The two left in silence.
***
“God, Ronnie, it’s just so fucking frustrating! Sorry for swearing, but fuck! ” Mac paced around her room angrily, Veronica half-asleep on her bed, “I really don’t think English has enough words to describe how I feel. I know Heather is shit at apologising, and who knows, maybe she wasn’t ready, but once I expect something to happen and it suddenly changes, I can’t fucking handle it! ¡Estoy hasta la coronilla de Heather! ¡Mierda! ”
Her hands began to pat her thighs at a steady pace as she took a deep breath, “I’m not going to have a m- a breakdown over this again. It’s Heather’s issues and I am not responsible for- for that. But can you understand how frustrating it is?!”
“Tell me about it,” Veronica scoffed, “She changes her opinion on me every goddamn minute. I can’t keep up.”
“I know!” Mac nodded furiously, “It’s like she plays Russian roulette in her head to see- to see how she treats us. Except she’s not Russian so it can’t be Russian roulette. But ‘Heather roulette’ doesn’t- doesn’t have the same ring to it, alliteration is important.”
“Anyway,” Veronica interrupted Mac’s tangent, “Do you wanna keep venting about her?”
“I don’t know!” Mac flopped on the bed next to Veronica, “I feel bad shit-talking about my best friend.”
Veronica shrugged, “Well, it’s kinda justified. I don’t know what exactly happened, but it must’ve been bad.”
“It was bad!” Mac held her face in her hands.
Veronica held out her hand, and Mac took it gratefully, squeezing it gently. Mac faced her, “Do you mind if I have, like, a little monologue moment.”
Veronica laughed, “A monologue moment?”
“Why’s that funny? If I want to speak for a while uninterrupted, isn’t that a monologue?” Mac’s face was blank.
“Yeah, yeah, it is a monologue, don’t worry,” Veronica smiled, putting up her other hand in faux-surrender, “I just- the way you speak sometimes is so, uh, cute? I dunno if that’s the right word but I can’t think of another one.”
A faint pink blush came over Mac, and she mumbled, “The word you’re searching for is ‘endearing’. And thank you, I guess. I was just worried you were making fun of me and I couldn’t tell. That happens a lot, you know?”
“Heather, I would never make fun of you,” Veronica held Mac’s hand with both of hers, “I promise.”
“Good. I mean, it is the basic expectation for friendships, but I haven’t got it in the past. So, thanks. I’m going to start my monologue now.”
Veronica nodded. Her eyes drifted to the floor where a magazine lay, the pop star Madonna facing the reader in a broad, pretty smile, white teeth flashing. She was bathed in golden sunlight while in the water, and her dark hair was slicked back with the substance.
“Heather has been my best friend for over a decade, you know. We met in kindergarten because we both couldn’t read so we got lumped in with a bunch of other kids with learning disabilities. She was the only one who knew sign language at all, ‘cause her sister is non-verbal, so she saw me being unable to talk to the teacher, or the other kids, and-” Mac signed quotation marks, “-adopted me.”
***
“Hey! What’th youw name?”
The tall girl was barely four years old, her ginger curls bunching around her shoulders. Her eyes, though they appeared a cold grey-blue, held warmth in the way they creased with the toothy smile on her lips, and her pink pinafore matched the stripy long-sleeve undershirt at the chest, making her seem like a little cartoon character. The mismatching of the coloured striped sleeves added to this, one blue and one green, and her socks should’ve been at her knees, but one had fallen. The blue Mary-Jane style shoes matched the right sleeve.
Heather Chandler plonked herself on the floor in front of where Mac sat on the mat. Mac stared back at her blankly.
“Can you talk?” Heather asked, not a hint of teasing in her bright voice.
Mac shook her head. Heather nodded, “That’th okay. Ethie can’t talk eithew. That’th my thithtew, by the way.”
Mac stared at her again, not knowing what else to do.
“Can you thpeak thign language?” Heather held up her hands and gave a slightly wobbly, ‘Hello .’
Mac immediately smiled widely, ‘ Yes. Hello .’
Heather gasped, “You can!” ‘ What’s name? ’
‘ Do you mean, what’s your name? ’
“Oh, yeth,” Heather shook her head, “I’m thtill learning, thowwy.”
‘ It’s okay ,’ Mac crawled forwards and sat closer to Heather, ‘ My name is Heather .’
“My name’s Heathew too!” Heather exclaimed. She paused, then asked, her eyes wide with anticipation, “Do you wanna be fwiends? I don’t have many, ‘cauthe I’m new. I’m fwom Kentucky, but Mommy and Poppa have jobth hewe now.”
‘ I would like that ,’ Mac signed, beaming.
***
“She was my first friend. First actual friend. Dad had tried to make other kids be friends with me before, but Heather was the only one who actually approached me and made an effort to be friends with me,” Mac gave a sad smile, “And she was the sweetest one too. Never got mad at me, always tried to make me feel better. A few things must’ve happened but I can’t exactly pinpoint what. I know… she has nightmares, but I won’t say what I think caused it because it’s quite a personal topic, for her at least. But she was acting differently before that too. I think it must’ve started in middle school, but not at the start. If it were at the start, she wouldn’t have let Heather join us.”
Veronica nodded once more. It seemed to be the only thing she could do right now.
“Sorry for making you listen to all this,” Mac continued, “I’d usually talk to Heather or Heather, but Heather isn’t here, and Heather is the reason I feel like this. Guess you’re my proximity comfort.”
“Heather, my love, I’m honoured,” Veronica placed her hand on Mac’s thigh, fingers splayed out so that the index and pinky were situated closer to the inner thigh than what might be deemed appropriate.
Mac looked at her, eyes wide, mouth slightly ajar. She felt her heart flutter and her cheeks darken. There seemed to be an abundance of that, lately.
“I- sorry, did that make you uncomfortable?” Veronica quickly removed it, her expression concerned and a little anxious.
Mac took a moment to process the question, then shook herself, replying, “No, no, no! Gosh, sorry, I- I just wasn’t expecting it. It was good, fine, great. It didn’t make me uncomfortable at all.”
“I feel like I’ve broken some brain circuit of yours,” Veronica cocked her head, a small smile playing on her lips.
“Perhaps you have,” Mac stared down at the ground, “Damn. Sorry, didn’t think that would have such an impact on me!”
“I’m known for having that kind of effect on people, Heather especially,” Veronica shrugged.
“Mm,” Mac hummed, a glum look falling over her face.
“Do you wanna keep talking, or do you wanna do something else?” Veronica hurriedly continued, “I don’t mind either way, of course.”
“I wanna listen to some music. Do you like Madonna?”
***
Heather was lying on her back on her bed against the pillows, staring up at the bedroom ceiling, studying the grooves in the detailed plaster-work. Well, not really. With every groove her eyes followed, her thoughts swirled around her brain like a storm, all revolving around one thing. Heather McNamara. And maybe, just maybe, a little bit of Veronica Sawyer.
A knock on the doorway of her room jolted her up, and she looked over to see an auburn-haired woman, slightly older than Heather by about four or so years.
“Hey, Esther,” Heather groaned, slumping back onto her bed, keeping her gaze to the girl.
‘ Hello, Heather ,’ Esther signed, ‘ Are you okay? ’
“No,” Heather said bluntly, “I miss Thea.”
‘ What happened? ’
“I caused her a meltdown and she’s mad at me. Fucking obviously,” Heather crossed her legs, her brow furrowed, “I don’t even really know why I yelled at her. I mean, I wanted help with math, but then I got scared that she didn’t like me anymore and that she would try to leave me and I panicked. But when I panic I don’t sit down and cry like a fucking loser. Sorry, that’s mean. Crying isn’t loser-y. But I got angry instead and I said so much stuff I didn’t mean. I wish my mouth had a fucking filter.”
‘ What type of stuff? ’ Esther walked in slowly, and timidly sat on the edge of Heather’s bed.
“Ugh,” Heather held her hands over her face and said, her voice muffled, “Like how she should pay attention to me more and how she’s nothing without me because I’ve been protecting her my whole life. That part is kinda true, but I do that willingly, she can take care of herself to some extent.”
Esther poked Heather so that the girl removed her hands from her face, then signed, ‘ Anything else? ’
“I-” Heather’s face heated up, and she near-whispered, “I also called her, um, a dyke.”
Esther frowned, shoulders dropping, ‘ Why? ’
“She was looking at Heather weirdly,” Heather bit her lip, “I know it’s a bad word, and I promise I’m not homophobic. I- no, that’s not necessary to say- I don’t know why I said it. It just seemed to be the only thing my fucked-up brain could say to top it all off.”
‘ I think you need to stop blaming it all on your brain ,’ Esther shuffled a little closer, ‘ I love you, Heather, but you need to take responsibility for your actions. ’
Heather whined, “But I didn’t mean it.”
‘ You still said it. Even if you don’t mean it now, you meant it then, and that caused harm .’
“Get outta here with your logic,” Heather said, then quickly clarified, “Sarcasm, by the way.”
‘ Have you thought about how to apologise to Heather? ’
Heather lay back on her bed, and stared at the ceiling again. “When have I not been thinking about that?”
Esther tapped her again.
“What?” Heather looked at her.
‘ You can’t know what I’m saying if you’re not looking at me .’
“Damn.”
‘ You have to do it soon. The longer you wait, the longer it stews and Heather will only get more mad at you ,’ Esther looked at her sternly through the half-moon glasses.
“I know, but how? Do I fucking phone her? God, you couldn’t paint me any more of a loser,” Heather groaned.
‘ Just do it, Heather, it’ll work itself out if you put the effort in ,’ Esther slid off Heather’s bed, ‘ You’re welcome for the advice. Thank your lucky stars you have a sensible older sister to rely on .’
“Yeah, thanks,” and once more, Heather was alone in her room.
“Right,” Heather swung her legs around and grabbed the red phone off her bedside table, and dialled a number. It rang for a few moments, but no one picked up. “Okay,” Heather exhaled, “That’s fine, just leave a message.”
The phone beeped for the message.
“Um, hey- hey Thea,” Heather began, her nervousness appearing in her voice much more than she would have liked, “I know it’s a pussy move to start this in a fucking voice message, but I couldn’t do it in person today. Um, I’m not asking for forgiveness, because that’s selfish. Even though I want to. That’s not the point. I’m sorry I made you have a meltdown. There’s really no other way to say it, but I’m sorry. I love- I care about you a lot and I should never have pushed you to that point. You don’t have to speak to me ever again. I just wanted to say it so you know I haven’t been fine about it. Anyway, I hope you’re having an okay night with Veronica.”