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As beautifully thought-out and friendly, if you can even call it that, as Sierra was, things always tended to get a bit… obsessive .
Not like Heather’s obsessive, where people tended to cry and millions of dollars slipped closer and closer to the palm of her hands.
But still.
Obsessive.
“You have been formally invited to the event of a Total Drama lifetime !”
Duncan, door answerer of Team Chris is Really Really Really Really Hot, didn’t have the chance to decline before a note, something akin to a love letter, was thrust into his hands. Pink paper, twirly writing, and art, that Heather could not make out from her spot behind the production equipment.
Sparkles scattered and Duncan held the note at a distance with great distaste. “What the hell is this?”
The girl's voice lowered in octaves, but raised in excitement until she was practically spitting on the delinquent. “An invitation to a secret, exclusive , event, in the room behind the cafeteria.” Heather could only see the back of the girl's silhouette, but she could imagine the cheek aching grin from where she stood.
Uhh. Secret meeting behind the cafeteria sounded quite… proppositional. Duncan though? Heather never saw Sierra as the type of girl to be into the likes of him.
A greasy mohawk rested against the door frame. Arms crossed and demeanor cocky, “I’m accounted for, honey.”
Yuck , Heather thought, big ego much? Even if she agreed with the thought process: men thinking women are hitting on them? Gross.
“Ew.” Sierra responded and Heather nearly spluttered away her hiding spot. “I am not trying to steal Courtney’s man. Or… is it Gwen’s?” She laughed, a clearly false laugh that Heather herself has used a million times. Sarcastic, yet feigning innocence. “It’s so hard to keep track these days.”
Duncan’s scowl could kill herds.
“I mean, this summer, you were dating both at the same time at some point. Weren’t you? Told Gwen you had broken up with Courtney, all while the lawyer’s daughter was blissfully unaware, taking care of Brittany . Your child.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about.” Duncan denied.
“Oh, I have proof.” Sierra tilted her head and her braid followed her line of motion almost hypnotically. “Remember how you once went on a date with Courtney to the aquarium, and then three hours later, you were with Gwen, at the horror movie marathon? In Toronto. Annnd I was in the back row. You probably don’t remember that part, but I was there. Taking pictures.”
Two dates, two different girls, same day. That was low. Even for a dickbag as big as him.
Duncan pushed out of the door frame to second class with a single worried glance back at his teammates, “Keep your voice down.” He closed the door behind him.
“So you do remember.” Sierra’s voice lightened, taking on a cartoony quality. She raised on the balls of her feet, giddy, “That’s good. We both know the first-aid on this hunk of metal - ” She patted the metal walls jokingly. “ - ain’t the greatest.”
“Ha ha.” He deadpanned. “ What do you want ?”
“You and your team in the room behind the cafeteria, in two hours. Which isn’t a hook up by the way.” When the man took a few seconds too long to reply she continued, “Unless, you want your girlfriend and ex-girlfriend, my teammates, to have something to bond over…”
“Alright.” He bit out. “Done. We’ll be there.”
“All of your team.”
“I’ll figure it out.”
“Great. See you there!” She whirled around, her smile adorably delighted. There were more invitations in her hand, more than she now needs. Her plan clearly went better than even she anticipated.
The smile dropped from her eyes as she spotted Heather. A painfully obvious display of annoyance scrunched her nose.
Duncan slammed the door behind him in his escape, and Heather made no move to pretend she didn’t just eavesdrop during the entire interaction. There’s no point.
“Inviting the enemy to a soiree?”
“Correction.” She flatlined, and Heather mourned her mischievous spark, “Inviting everyone to a soiree. Here - ” She offered Heather a pick of the invitations, and she took the most non-glittered option.
“Fan the friendship flames?” Heather read and raised a single eyebrow. She walked alongside Sierra to first class. A marker drawing revealed itself as she flipped over the paper. Remarkably better than Heather would have expected.
“Good, right?” Sierra asked.
“Yeah.” Heather replied, sarcasm leaking from her non-existent pores. This was the corniest shit she’s ever seen.
“Sarcasm is unbecoming of you.” She huffed and pushed open the golden trimmed door, holding it open for Heather, who walked through without a thank you. “You’re welcome.” Sierra growled. “Next time I should just let the door hit your boney butt on the way in.”
Heather ignored her. Her butt is not boney, thank you very much . “Where did you even find this much glitter?”
She shrugged. “The supply closet. There’s lots of stuff in there. Anyway, you’re coming right?”
“What even is it?”
Sierra squinted at her like she’s dumb. “A campfire? Duh .”
“Why?”
“All of you are so close! Even boyfriend-trading Gwen and Courtney. I’m just - an outsider to you all.” She began gathering blankets and pillows, stuffing them under each of her arms. “I want to be friends, I guess.”
Heather set her invitation on the bar table and watched Sierra hectically collect things for her event.
Friends.
For some reason the word put a bitter taste in her mouth. A concept Heather has never been quite good at. At home, and on the island.
“You know, blackmailing isn’t a great way to make friends.” She knows that first-hand.
Sierra hummed in confusion.
“Duncan…” Heather trailed off.
“Oh that! Pshh! We just haven’t had the campfire vote-out experience! Duncan will forgive me once we get that - ” She grinned happily, dropping her mountain of fluff by the door, and sat her hands on her hips. “You know, the routine bonding that the other 22 of you went through every night on Island.”
“Ritualistic, more like.” Heather muttered, doubting her plan heavily.
“There’s a reason cults are so close, Heather!” She sing-songed, dancing gently over to the snack tray. “After tonight, my ostracization of pre-fire will finally be over and I will get the Total Drama friendship that I so have desperately desired and dreamed about the last couple months.”
Heather pursed her lips, a frown over-taking her without her consent. Sierra floated around, unfairly tall and naively merry. Gourmet marshmallows gradually took up the majority of her tray. White and fluffy.
“Do you think these marshmallows will work? Or should I throw them on the floor a few times for authenticity?”
“Being a part of the campfire vote-out will not make them like you more.”
The concern didn’t add even a slight hesitation to her ministrations. She waved Heather off. “Stop being such a negative nancy.”
“Just - don’t get your hopes up.”
“Just because the campfire didn’t work for you , doesn’t mean it won’t for me.”
Ache and annoyance battled in her chest. Missing each other and instead stabbing her heart over and over.
And that was what Heather got for trying to be a nice, friend-worthy person.
-
She guilt tripped Gwen into coming. A couple of watery eyes that slipped up and sent a trail down one of her flushed cheeks. Gwen agreed, and the tear got wiped away with a little dance.
Once Gwen agreed, Cody was easily in the bag as well.
For Courtney, Sierra claimed she was having a bit of difficulty picking out some activities and could really use a leader to help wrangle all the opposing personalities. Instead of asking Courtney to be that person, she asked, do you know anyone like that? And Do you think Alejandro would be up for the job? Needless to say, Courtney volunteered with an offended jut of her hip.
One by one, Sierra used her fellow castmates' personalities against them and, one by one, Heather admired from afar. She knew DJ’s grandmother's phone number. It was admittedly impressive. Creepy, weird, and insane, but impressive.
She could be a very useful addition to Heather’s inner circle.
-
The room behind the cafeteria was not the location Heather would have chosen for a friendship trauma bond.
But she understood they were limited to the confines of the flying deathtrap.
It was a small box of a room - if she could even call it that. Certainly not big enough for the group of them to gather comfortably. A stack of boxes sat at each back corner. And a layer of dust bunnies blanketed the floor, that Heather distinctly didn’t want anywhere near her only pair of jean shorts.
The lack of dry-cleaning on this show should be considered criminal.
In the center of the room was a pile of orange, brown, yellow, and red craft paper. Crinkled into little balls of color. A lighter laid next to it and Heather really hoped that this wasn’t going to end in literal flames considering the wood paneling that it was taped to.
Metaphorical flames , however, she expected and welcomed heavily.
Heather gestured around the room with a single finger. “This is going to go horribly.”
“What?” Sierra responded, offended. “No ‘Hello! Nice top’?”
“Hello. Nice top.”
Sierra laughed, then scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Liar.”
-
Heather claimed the top of a box, after wiping it down with the back of her hand a number of times. She was not going to get stuck shoulder to shoulder with any of those grease balls.
Slowly, she observed as more and more of the cast arrived. Loud and annoying. Each lower on her pyramid than the last.
She doesn’t know how she didn’t see it before, but yeah, Gwen and Duncan are totally together. Sending sickening, love-struck, hidden glances back and forth. A small, wistful grin on each of their faces. So terribly obvious.
How long is that going to last? Heather thought with a snort. A couple episodes. Max.
“What’s so funny?” Cody asked from under her, seated on the floor in front of her box. His foot pressed into Tyler’ tailbone, whose entire lap was covered by Lindsay’s legs.
Heather crossed her arms, resting against the wall behind her. She put on a frown and looked away from the chihuahua. “Who said you could talk to me?”
“Must you be so mean, Heather?” Alejandro joined the runt, a graceful quality to his voice that made Heather want to throw up. “Your teammate merely asked a friendly question.”
Can his team vote him out already? He’s like obsessed with her or something.
“Oh. I’m sorry.” She faked a smile and turned to address the boy. “Cody, I was laughing at how ridiculous Alejandro looks with his nose shoved up everybody's ass. ”
Cody cackled.
Alejandro gasped, a hand grabbing at his chest. “So vulgar!”
Cody’s undying laughter could be heard through the entire reply, and didn’t stop after either. It reminded Heather of a never-ending spongebob episode. The sound drew attention from the rest of the room and Heather couldn’t help the curl of her lip.
It wasn’t even that funny.
Alejandro’s annoyed expression did bring her a bit of happiness.
“Good one, Heather.” Sierra bellowed, eyes staring earnestly into hers with enough intensity to startle.
Heather looked away, pride flooding her then, and said, “I’m always good.”
-
Finally, the entire group arrived.
“Ugh, this room is so ugly.” Lindsay noted. “Spiderwebs are so out.”
Around the campfire sat a circle of teenagers. Gwen, Duncan, and Courtney were in a literal triangle shape across the pit. Spare e-scope members were thrown in between them chaotically, along with a Sierra, who had to squeeze her way into the inner circle to reach the fire.
She sat criss-cross applesauce, longer legs squashed over Gwen’s to her left, and Izzy’s to her right. “So. Harold.” She awkwardly chuckled, pieces of baby hair falling past her face as she lent forward to light the paper. “Miss that guy, huh?”
He was voted out two weeks ago.
Interesting conversation starter. Again, not exactly what Heather would have chosen, but she could see the appeal.
“Nah.” Duncan snorted, trying to lean back on his hands only to slap DJ’s lap. He pulled back quickly. “That guy was a huge nerd.”
“Oh!” Sierra yelped, lighter burning her finger in her haste to agree. “For sure. Yeah.”
The sight made Heather kind of feel bad for her. She could understand doing anything to fit in. Literally spent her entire sophomore summer working out and starving herself so she’d have friends the next year.
Only for her to learn that her looks weren’t the thing that was wrong with her.
“Are you for real going to talk about my Harold-baby right in front of me?” Leshawna had literally just taken her seat, but stood back up again swiftly.
Heather kept silent, watching the argument unfold with a heavy bias towards a side she’d rather not voice her opinions on.
-
The fire did not last long. Seconds after it roared to life, screams erupted.
“What the fuck?”
“Are we going to die?” Lindsay cried.
“We are not going to die.” Courtney chided, stomping the small spark that began to stray from the intended pile. Then, she moved to putting out the fire completely, shoe mushing at the paper until the heat disappeared, taking the light in Sierra’s eyes with it. “At least if someone stops trying to kill us.”
Sierra exhaled. “Sorry.”
“It was a fun idea?” Owen weakly comforted.
Noah snorted. “If you consider almost burning in a fiery pit of Total Drama hell with a bunch of sweaty ignoramuses, fun - yeah, It would have been a blast!”
-
“Babe. Com’on, you know you mean the world to me.”
“You told me you broke up with her weeks before we got together!”
“Nope!” Courtney manicked. “You were kissing my sloppy seconds the whole fucking time!”
Sierra held up the snack plate with a scared bunch of her shoulders. “I brought marshmallows?”
-
“You know, I tried to warn you.”
Hair whipped past her, revealing Sierra’s expression morphing from defeated to murderous. “You know, I hate you. ”
Heather rolled her eyes and joined the taller girl on the floor. The wood was cold beneath her palm and prickly pinched the skin of her leg. Thoughts of her shorts grumbled in the back of her mind but she pushed them away. “Get in line.”
“I think I’d die before I got out of it.” Sierra seethed.
“Probably.” Heather replied, vindication crawling at her throat. But the sad expression melting Sierra's face pushed it back down. Wet streaks stained her cheeks and her lips were twisted into a depressed pout.
Heather sighed. “There’s no winning with them, Sierra. They’re assholes. All of them. You and me included. The only way you can get on this show is to be crazy, or a complete asshole. They want good TV. You of all people should know that by now.”
“What about Owen?” Sierra asked, tears resting dewily on her bottom lashes.
“Owen is so nice he’s an asshole via making people think they aren’t assholes .” Heather leveled. “Exhibit A: Noah.”
“Ugh,” She scrunched her nose in disgust and pulled her legs closer to her chest. Hair flowed prettily down the length of her bare leg and Heather fought the urge to run her fingers through the loose strands. “I hate that guy.”
“ Everyone does. His literal only redeeming quality is Owen.”
“The fans like him.” Sierra reasoned.
“Yeah, well, the fans have bad taste.” Heather replied bitterly. Everyone loved a mediocre man with a questionable sexuality for them to exploit. No matter how offensive or disrespectful that short piece of shit got, it would never compare to the scrutiny of a woman in entertainment. Especially one with such a big personality as herself. Why cater to the mass of men and insecure women that were never going to like her anyway? “Who cares what a bunch of snotty-nosed losers think?”
“Yeah, I never got the Noah hype. He always won my blog popularity polls, so I started taking him out, but people just spammed his name in my comments anyway. It was so fucking annoying I banned his name entirely.” She laughed at the memory fondly and Heather felt compelled to join.
After a moment, a silence settled over them.
Sierra broke it. “You used to be one of my least favorites too.”
Hurt weighed Heather’s chest. It stung, worse than it usually does. Of course Sierra was apart of the Fuck Heather club. Why did Heather expect it any other way? “Thanks.” She replied sarcastically.
“But I think you got a bad edit.”
“A bad edit?”
“Yeah, like the producers made you out to be this big evil villain. And while I don’t think you are entirely innocent. I think the editors definitely played it up.” Her gaze went elsewhere. The ground, the door, Heather couldn’t really tell. Her fingers played with the ends of her purple hair. “I mean, you’re here now. And I bet there were probably plenty of other scenes that showed the human in you that they cut out. You’re not that bad.”
The pathetic excuse of a compliment warmed Heather far more than it should - a lot more, actually, since it tingled all the way to her icy heart and thawed into it enough for a stupid pool of optimism to leak it’s way in.
“Hey.” She grinned. “I take offense to that.” The smile turned sour, her chest freezing back over faster than she thought possible. Big, evil, villain. “If I'm going to be the one everyone hates, I might as well be the best at it.” She struggled to keep her voice indifferent. “Starting to look like Alejandro is going to take that place.”
“No!” Sierra shouted in alarm, an arm shooting out in front of her and slapping the wooden flooring. “Never. You were iconic. You tricked so many people. You won so many challenges - You literally shaved your head to stay another day.”
A blush fought its way to Heather's face. A humiliating burn that made her puff her cheeks and look away. Her heart raced like crazy. “Obviously I was iconic.”
“Shaving your head!” Sierra repeated in awe. “You may not have been well liked, but the fandom at least acknowledges your game. The day that challenge arises is the day Alejandro displays how heinous he truly is.”
“You don’t like Alejandro?”
“Hell no.” She stated, then fell into her rambling tendency, “I mean, sure he’s got big arms, nice hair, nice teeth, a sparkly personality, and he’s good at everything. But I see straight through those emerald eyes. And he’d probably kill himself before shaving his head. Pussy.”
“Yes, thank you!” Heather huffed, temporarily flabbergasted by another castmate with unveiled eyes. “No one is that good at everything. He thinks he can just charm his way into every girl's pants.”
“And Tyler’s.”
Heather’s jaw dropped in a single laugh. “Sierra!”
“What?” She shrugged, a cute sheepish nature taking over the gesture. “It’s true. Have you seen the way Tyler watches him when he thinks Alejandro isn’t looking? I bet my fellow bloggers at home have already written at least 40 thousand words of fanfic about them.”
Heather shook her head. “You’re so weird.”
“Like you’re not a secret nerd too.”
A million insults swarmed Heather’s brain. Some mediocre, a quick hit to the ego and that was all. Others, much harsher. Friendship ruining and life altering (yes, she’s that good). But Heather found that she didn’t want to hurt Sierra.
She didn’t want to ruin what little oasis she had begun to form.
There were no cameras to defend herself from. No audience to hold Sierra’s words over her head later. There was just Heather and Sierra.
“Yeah, whatever.” She tried to play it off with a flick of her hair. “I guess we both have no place to talk.”
Silence took them once again and Heather spent the time fighting the urge to get closer to the other girl. Even in the dim lighting she could see her pretty clearly, even without the glow of the fire. She stared at the side of her head and fell smitten at the slight curl in the bottom of her hair and the effortless nature that came with it.
Overcame with nervousness as she watched Sierra fiddle and poke at her make-shift campfire.
Crunching a yellow, burnt, paper in her hand, Sierra finally spoke up, “Thanks for staying.”
Heather’s reply got stuck in her throat. Something earnest and surprising. Something that flustered her enough to reply, “Now you owe me.” And despite the nature of the phrase, her voice came out teasingly.
“Oh yeah?” Sierra replied, just as playful. Her eyebrows dropped a smidge. “Whatever do you want, Queen Bitch?”
“Queen Bitch? That’s a new one, crazy .”
“Crazy?” Sierra gaped. “I am not crazy.”
“Yeah. Tell that to the Islanders family members numbers you have saved in your contact list.”
“Some people collect things. I collect my future friends’ moms.”
“You’re right. Not crazy - insane .”
Sierra nodded her head once in approval. “Much better.” She joked and shoved Heather's shoulder gently. The action sent a buzz through Heather’s brain. “But seriously, I’d rather you just tell me now then fuck me over half-way through the game.”
“Me fuck you over?” Heather replied and then pointed a finger towards the door. “I watched you manipulate every single person out there today. If anything, I want you on my team.”
It might just be Heather’s ticket to the suitcase of cash. And that’s it. Nothing more. A truce until the final two, maybe three, where they will ultimately go separate ways and never speak to each other again.
Heather won’t be reminded of the other girl every time she sees a splash of purple. And she won’t feel bad for betraying her. Because money solves all the world's problems. Including the romantic regret and pain of not going for someone that might have genuinely made you happy for life.
New shoes and a couple years of financial security fills the same hole. Surely.
“What?” Sierra asked. And Heather had no idea whether she was referring to the first or second part of her sentiment. Both were valid options.
Instead of answering, Heather stated, “You’re just as bad as me, crazy.” And couldn’t resist nudging her back. “Own it.”
The girl struggled to look offended. An obvious war was waging over her face. Surprise. Disbelief. Denial. Flattery. It stopped on a poorly concealed smile and a straightening of her shoulders. She met Heather’s gaze from under her lashes, brown eyes, almost black, searching Heather’s gray ones.
“Did you mean it? Would you wanna team up with me?”
“You got more of that secret intellect?”
“Yeah.”
“Then, duh.” Heather chuckled. “We could make it to the end.”
“Hell yeah, girl power!” The girl deflated. “But, then what happens?”
“I don’t know.” Heather answered honestly.
“We fight to the death after you turn on me? So bloodied and nasty that it ends in a fandom war over who should have won? Thus, never actually ending and fueling our feud through the next several generations?”
“ Orrr ,” Heather tilted her head in the girl's direction. “We have an honorable battle or come to an agreement on some sort of splitting the money deal.”
“You’d split the money with me?”
“I’d consider it.”
Sierra hummed.
She knows Heather too well. So well, Heather’s surprised the girl is even considering her offer at all. Analyzed her for two whole seasons. Discussed her actions over the internet with hundreds of other like-minded nerds.
Heather found herself excited for the journey, but everytime she hit a make-believe wall where the obvious option would be to throw Sierra under the bus and gun it for the million, dread lodged itself between the divots of her lungs and inflated like a balloon ready to burst.
She didn’t want to.
But it was inevitable wasn’t it?
Sierra’s eyes were a stormy dark brown. They skittered back and forth, trying to reach in and pull out secrets and feelings Heather’s pushed down too deep to be coughed up like they are nothing. Her cheeks heated but at least the uncertainty of loyalty was nowhere to be seen.
The girl suddenly stuck out her hand. “Test trial alliance for the next three episodes?”
Heather took Sierra's hand into her own. It was soft and smooth. Delicate unlike her personality. Blue nail polish was chipped at every edge of her nails and Heather wondered how long it would be before it was entirely gone as she grasped the hand firmly. She ignored the racing panic in her mind of what was to come, oddly giddy as the hand squeezed back. A couple days? When there's so many other losers to get through. Relief flooded her and she smirked, “I can definitely do that.”