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September 10th, 1989.
Dear Diary,
I had the strangest exchange with the ‘three musketeers’ today. Strange isn’t a good word, now that I think of it. It was enlightening and perplexing, moody and… off.
But, I learned all about McNamara.
In a way I’d never expected.
Chandler had insisted we bring about a plan, some bonding idea she’d conjured up from her never-ending pile of high-school goals, made to afflict awe and wonder at how stereotypically idyllic we’re supposed to be. This week, instead of partying, she’d concocted something far more… mundane, surprisingly. A… movie night.
Somehow, Chandler and Duke, with a combination of both charm and cash, managed to get a viewing for a horror movie for just us Heathers. A whole, almost empty theatre to ourselves, and probably a pink slip for whatever schmuck pulled off the whole thing.
When I’d questioned Heather on why she pulled this together, she had not the worst reasoning, but still nothing solid enough to make this fully understandable. “First, we’ll be trendsetters, watching it just before October, second, it shows that we have the influence to do it, and third, it’ll have to be fun.”
We’d only hoped the last would be right.
When we’d initially set out the plan, or rather, Chandler set out the plan, there’d been some discourse. McNamara in particular was a touch hesitant about the plan.
Even going so far as to bring it up over lunch at school.
“Heather, I know you want to do it, but does it have to be a horror flick?” her voice wavered with discourse, her gripping a burger in her hand tightly as she spoke.
“Oh what, Heather, are you afraid of a little gore?” Duke mused. To be fair, that was what we were in for. The film, Society, was about the only good thing Chandler could snatch from the theatre’s old selection of reels, since the boy they got wrapped up in this mess only knew where they kept movies that they’d held over for occasional re-runs, or simply because they have nothing left to do with them. About everything else was too childish or generic, so she decided full-on horror was the way to go.
I didn’t worry about having the stomach for it. I mean, I could just look away if there was something particularly nasty, but it won’t be a worry, really.
McNamara couldn’t have that confidence. So I’d decided to give a touch of support.
“Hey, if you’re not a fan of it, we don’t have to watch that one-”
“No plan changes, babes,” Chandler insisted, eyes squinting at me as an annoyed, tired look plastered her face. She turned to McNamara. “You won’t need to back out, it won’t do anything to you, it’s just a movie.
‘My way or the highway’ has truly been epitomised by the teen queen of Westerberg High.
After that, we simply planned for the day, organising outfits, (despite the fact that this event was in no way public), and got ourselves ready for a night of horrific viewings. McNamara had visited my place beforehand, since she needed a ride and lived close enough to walk by. We didn’t speak much beyond just boring talk, the kind uncles have at a family dinner, only this time flavoured with a heavy coating of high-school drama.
However, as we’d prepared, she got more and more antsy, a slight shake in her step and voice as the time creeped towards seven, what she must assume to be her witching hour. Just as it was getting closer to our time, and I’d finished getting on a skirt that's zipper was being far too stubborn, she finally managed to speak her mind.
“Veronica, is it… stupid to be afraid that the movie thing won’t go well…?” she finally spoke up, causing me to turn to her with a soft gaze. Poor girl was getting worked up. Not something I expected from a capital H. Heather.
“No, I get it, horror’s not everyone’s thing,” I reminded, scooting closer to her, as she was sitting on my bed. “If it’s too scary, that’s alright.”
Heather then looked askance, idly pulling at a loose hair, twirling it as she thought. “But… whenever I get scared, I get… well…”
I raised an eyebrow, but she hesitated too much to continue on her own. “Get… what?”
She mumbled something, which I’d only realised afterwards was the word ‘little’. Even if I’d heard, I’d be just as lost, if not more so than just not hearing her say anything. Soon after, we were interrupted by the blare of a car horn outside, probably courtesy of Duke.
I stood from my place on the bed, adjusting my scrunchie, “Well, we’d better head off, but,” I gently grabbed her hand, squeezing it softly, “If you need to get out of there, just tell me, okay?”
She shook her head, “But… Heather-”
“The only Heather’s opinion I wanna hear on the matter is you, not them.” I finalised, the horn sounding once again before we made our way downstairs and to the car. There, Duke and Chandler impatiently waited, giving sighs of relief as we finally came in.
Soon after, we sped off to the theatre, with Chandler making some usual gossip while touching up her lipstick. Not that she needed to, she just is a… bit obsessive.
“So, Veronica, you haven’t been doing many ‘favours’ recently,” she commented, to which I groaned. Of course I’d have to prove myself once more. I’d gotten about a week and a half of being a Heather with only a few slips and notes, it’s probably just the first of many to keep up appearances.
“Doctor’s note, permission slip or just a regular note?” I numbly remarked, already pulling a pen and notepad from my purse for practice.
She smiled grimly through her reflection in the sun visor at her seat, shotgun, of course. “No need to get your panties in a twist, Sawyer, just a simple note.” she clarified coldly, looking idly at her nails as she continued. “Jimmy in my algebra class has been hounding me all week, find a way to get him off my ass,”
I nodded along, “Alright, sure thing.” I don’t really know Jimmy that well, he’s just some geek I’d worked with on a history project some years ago. Not the type I’d expect to be toying with…
I can’t believe I just wrote that…
But the Queen demands it.
I already began jotting down some scribbles, trying to get down what his writing might be like. It had to be either excessively cursive with the curliest q’s I’d known or too jagged to the point it looked like a mishmash of triangles and squares. After some research I’d done after, I learned it was the latter. Found his signature on an old yearbook I’d borrowed that had a swath of signatures, all because one girl had demanded she get everyone on campus to sign it. The signature, supposedly his best writing, looked like hieroglyphics.
Still, as I tried to figure out what the note would be, McNamara poked at my shoulder slightly. I glanced up at her curiously, and the girl looked shaken. Her lip was a tad wobbly and she was gripping her skirt like a lifeline. I just hoped to god she wouldn’t cry, that would really set off Duke.
“Oh, hey, what’s up?” I whispered, thankful that Heather C and Heather D were too busy chatting about some dumb thing Kurt and Ram did a few days back.
“I’m… scared…” she sniffled, pulling up her knees slightly, though keeping her shoes from getting on the seat out of fear of incurring any wrath for getting the seats dirty.
“Aw, shh,” I soothed, taking my hand in hers. I’m not the most comforting person, especially considering my position at that moment, and now, but I thought I could help her. And boy, she needed it. “Are you worried about the movie?”
She only meekly nodded, wincing at the word ‘movie’ like I was incurring the devil’s name. She looked exactly like a lost lamb, probably ready to cling to me and not let go. My gaze softened further, my thumb lightly rubbing her ever-cold hand.
“Hey, don’t worry, you can hold my hand through the whole thing if you need.” I offered, which honestly surprised me, especially after. McNamara was the most agreeable of the Heathers, whenever Chandler let her speak, but I still didn’t really trust her that much or know her well. Guess I was just looking for a real friend, beyond the mere collective status we both had at the school’s top rung of ‘purity’.
Thankfully, as I held her hand, she seemed to cool down a bit. I was surprised to see her like this, but it only makes more and more sense in retrospect. She’s the head cheerleader, one of the top girls amongst the school. Plus she has the pressure of the other Heathers’ reputations to keep up along with her own. Not only that, she had to spend time with the two blissful idiots that are Kurt and Ram.
Guess I just didn’t see her as vulnerable before.
This experience proved me wrong, but I don’t think less of her for it.
It honestly makes our group more human.
“Heather, what are you whispering about?” Chandler called, causing McNamara to flinch hard, losing grip of my hand.
“N- Nothing, Heather.” she murmured, putting her hands back in her lap.
Duke sighed. “Oh puh-lease, you can handle horror, stop being a sissy.” she insisted, causing McNamara to shrink back. She looked so scared, and was trying to hide it, but lord help her she couldn’t do anything to keep it secret.
“Hey, if she doesn’t wanna go through with this it’s understandable” I attempted to reason, but Chandler was too hung over to hear any more arguing.
“Shut. It.” She demanded. “We’re going.”
No push-and-shove without someone falling off if you’re arguing with her.
Still, my heart went out to McNamara. Soon after, we finally arrived at the movie theatre.
The place was empty, as you’d expect, and as Duke and Chandler charged forward into the movie with gusto, I hung back with McNamara. She clung to me like a tiny deer, hiding meekly behind me and holding my hand for dear life. If only I’d known what was going on with her earlier, but Chandler was too busy being herself and Duke was too busy being an asshole.
Slowly, we proceeded, only because I didn’t want to infuriate the two higher-rank Heathers. If I had a choice, I’d have brought McNamara home and given her the TLC she needed. But no, oh no, we had to fulfil our Heathers duty by being all prissy in our ivory towers. Or ivory theatre, in this case. Well, the theatre was about as ivory as a small, second-rate constant-smell-of-butter theatre could get.
We arrived in the theatre room itself after Duke paid for popcorn and drinks, sitting down in the near-empty area. It was eerie, since this theatre only had one projector, so it was usually packed. But, now there were only four seats all occupied, top row in the back, side by side. Dozens of empty seats lay before us. Guess we don’t get to see much from our “upper echelon” view.
As the projector spurred to life, McNamara clung to my side, a slight whimper escaping her mouth. It was sure to be a long hour and a half or so, and it was. The poor girl shook the entire time, only being still during the calmer scenes, but still she was just lost in anticipation.
Soon after, Chandler started to take notice of something. Though she was focused on the movie, she kept tiredly gazing towards McNamara, watching as she let out tiny little whimpers and was kept glued to my side, her eyes closed during every scary scene.
She stood from her seat next to Duke, since of course we were sitting in ‘hierarchy order’. “Veronica, Heather, can you come with me for a second?”
Duke scoffed lightly, “What, sharing gossip?”
Chandler’s cold stare silenced her immediately, and the three of us went off to the bathroom. Once inside, McNamara stayed almost completely still, still by my side. Chandler sat on one of the toilets after putting down the seat, patting her lap, but McNamara merely shook her head.
“Wan’a be wif Vew’onica,” she stammered, still shivering as she stumbled through my name.
“Alright sweetheart,” Chandler relented, glancing up towards me. “Guess you’re on baby duty tonight.” I raised an eyebrow, and she sighed. “Aren’t you supposed to be well read?”
I wrapped an arm around McNamara before speaking, “Yes, but I’m… not familiar with what’s going on.”
“Well, I can’t explain all of it,” on account of her state of being hung over, not because of lack of care, (surprisingly), “but it’s a coping mechanism Heather uses when she’s especially tense.”
“Oh, and it involves…” I glanced down at her adorable, innocent, red-rimmed eyes. God, she looked so cute and vulnerable, I wish I had known how to help her sooner. “Her being the sweetest little thing I’ve ever seen?”
Chandler snapped her fingers, “Yes, she reg… resses, yeah that’s right, and needs someone to make sure she’s taken care of, and doesn’t cry,” she whispered the last part, turning to McNamara and making her voice softer than her normal strict, tired tone. “How old are you feeling, honey?”
McNamara meekly held up one finger. How can she make a single gesture so cute?
“Yeah, she’s gonna be a bit of a crybaby tonight, I’d help take care of her but I cannot shake this headache.” She murmured, rubbing her temple, “Keep her here if she needs, just make sure she’s a bit happier,” she stood, going over to the door, “Just don’t miss the whole movie.”
As she left, I turned to the baby before me, not fully sure how to handle her. But I’ve babysat before, so I guess I’ll just handle it from there. Plus I got past the harsh step of getting them to like me already.
“Hey, kiddo, how are you feeling?” I pondered, softening my voice like Chandler did. I know the question had an obvious answer, but I didn’t know what else to do.
“S-“ she sniffled. “Sc- scawed,” she mumbled, her voice shaky and light, like the cry of a sheep.
“Oh,” I tried to think of some kind of pet name. I decided to go with the normal ones first, something simple. “Poor baby, is there anything I can do for you to make you feel better?”
Heather merely made grabby hands up at me, whimpering more. At this point I fully realised the situation. I was dealing with a teen-sized toddler. For better and worse. Sure, she was absolutely adorable, but I had no clue what to do. Did she want milk? She probably wanted to be carried, but I couldn’t do that, I’m not some jock. I’m a writer, not a wrestler!
But, the baby will demand what the baby will demand. Honestly I’m surprised I wasn’t shocked at the situation itself, but I just knew my friend needed me. Any confusion about how this worked or what was happening or why didn’t matter. Heather was scared, and needed me.
So I was there.
I, as much as I could, scooped up Heather, wincing at the weight. But, she seemed happy, at least. Her whimpers silenced, and she curled into my embrace, nuzzling into my neck. I… may go to the gym afterwards to get better at carrying her.
To hell with it, I’ll lift more than Kirk or Ram could hope to do to make her happy.
After bearing that weight though, I realised it wouldn’t last long. So, carefully, and slowly, I stepped over to the end of the bathroom, sitting down with Heather in my lap.
“There there, shh, I’ve, no, Veronica’s got you,” I hummed, hoping the third-person speak would make me a little more understood.
Thankfully it worked, but not how I intended.
“Vew-... ve… vew…” she babbled, trying desperately to pronounce my name. Makes sense for a one-year-old.
So, then came the hard step. What would she call me?
The poor girl was caught up on my name, so I couldn’t use that, the ‘r’ got her all mixed up due to her baby lisp. At the moment, I didn’t have any ideas, in hindsight, I could have gone with a couple things. ‘V’ could work, it was simple, just one letter, or three if you add e’s. ‘Ronnie or ‘Ronica were options, but relied too much on ‘r’, and were too long. I could have said ‘Veve’ since babies work best with repetitive sounds but… well…
The baby worked too fast for my rational thinking.
“Mama?”
The holy word had been spoken. This baby was my own, at that point. I was to take care of her and give her all the necessary cuddles, she was from that point on my responsibility, and is even now.
I accepted the title with pride. Fearful, anxious pride, but pride. Anxiety for not knowing what to do, but still happy that she was willing to trust me to take care of her.
Even now, I’m not sure what to do now that she sees me this way. What, should I go off toy shopping and make sure she has properly packed lunches with a little note in them wishing her a good day? Well, she doesn’t eat enough sometimes, so the latter might be a good idea. Still, that’s for tomorrow.
Back to that moment, I decided to do the only thing I could, accept the title. “Aww, yes baby?” I sang, smiling down at her and rubbing her back lightly.
She clung to me closer, nuzzling her face into my chest.
“Ca’ we go home, pease?”
Oh, poor, sweet thing. She asked of me the hardest demand of all.
Telling Heather Chandler no.
I knew the rational part of my brain wanted to deny the girl her request. Stirring conflict in the Heathers was only sure to cause the two of them more problems down the line.
But she was relying on me. It was weird, I’d only known about this all for less than half an hour, but I was still so invested. McNamara showed me a side of her that was vulnerable, that could feel safe. Something about it clicked with me. It shouldn’t make sense, a teenager mentally feeling like a toddler, but yet it does. Something about that gentleness, the longing for something before, so antithetical to my current goals of getting away from high school after living it to the fullest made sense.
I still don’t get why.
But at that moment, I relented, and went along with her suggestion.
“Okay, baby, we’ll get you home.”
I managed to avoid Chandler on the way out, and got her home via taxi, thankfully. Right now, I have not the slightest clue what wrath will be sent my way over this, (as there will be comeuppance eventually), but it’s fine. I chose empathy today, and sometimes that hurts.
All in all, though?
The cuddles were worth whatever comes next.