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Chapter Text

The first time JD had met the love of his life, he was nine years old.

Back then, JD wasn’t excited to move to Sherwood, Ohio. He wasn’t completely dreading it; at least he was moving with his mom and leaving his father behind all the way in Texas. Even at nine years old, JD knew he didn’t like his father. And he knew that when his mom came into his room a few days before the end of summer break with her eyes bloodshot and swollen and a fresh bruise on her cheek and sat him down to have a conversation his father didn’t even want to take part in, that in some way, the messy divorce meant good news. So he helped his mom pack up everything they owned and stared out the window during a six-hour road trip. He wasn’t sure why his mom had chosen to move them to Middle-of-Absolutely-Freaking-Nowhere, Ohio, though. The town seemed almost asleep; it was the kind of tired suburb where only old people or people with babies lived.

Still, he didn’t complain. Not when he’d tried helping his mom with some of the lighter boxes (look, the kid had quite a life by that point, but he was still very much the size of a nine-year-old boy), not when he slept in a mattress for a week before his bed got delivered, and not when two nights into their existence in the town of Sherwood his mom had brought him to the doorstep of the house across the street.

She’d told him the Sawyers lived there. Old friends of hers, from college. That they were nice and welcoming and had a daughter his exact age who was simply lovely. And that she had to work tonight, since one of her two new jobs had already started, and that she’d leave him with them just for a few hours.

“I can be home alone, mom.” JD insisted as his mom knocked on the door across the street.

“I know, Jason.” Amelia said, empathetically placing a hand on his shoulder, “But this is better for you. I don’t want to leave you alone.”

JD frowned. Granted, he could see her point, and he’d read enough psychology books from the shitty library at his old school to know that isolation was generally not a good thing, but he really didn’t want to spend his evening chatting with a bunch of strangers.

“You can meet their daughter.” Amelia continued, her hand now rubbing his shoulder. “It’ll be good for you to have a friend before you start school.”

JD almost scoffed at that. He was sure whatever girl in that house that had grown up in this sheltered graveyard of a town wouldn’t exactly be his immediate other half, but he stayed silent as some woman opened the door for them.

“Amelia!” the woman exclaimed fondly, grabbing his mom and pulling her into a hug. JD stood helplessly on the doorstep.

“Carrie.” His mom said, voice quieter but just as fond. “It’s been too long.” JD tried to convince himself that this was a good thing; his mom didn’t really have friends of her own back in Texas, and JD liked seeing her happy. Still, he cringed a little when Carrie Sawyer looked behind his mom and noticed him, tugging at his sleeves impatiently.

“You must be Jason.” Carrie said, taking him in with the enthusiastic smile of an aunt you can never place. “Oh, you look so lovely.” JD just waved, unsure what to do with himself. He’d never been particularly nervous in social situations, but he had to admit that this was quite uncomfortable.

“Well, come in!” Carrie beckoned them, smiling warmly. JD wearily followed his mom inside.

The house was rather different from theirs; sure, the walls of the living room were green while theirs were blue, and the layout was different, but the main difference was that the Sawyer house looked very… lived-in. To start, they had all of their furniture, and he couldn’t exactly say the same about his own new home. There were papers on the coffee table and he’d noticed a height chart on the wall of the doorway, surrounded by little doodles of semi-deformed hearts and suns and smiley faces. He’d briefly noticed family photos strewn about, and almost wanted to take a look but decided against it.

His mom talked with Carrie for a while in the living room, where they also met Mr. Sawyer, whose first name was apparently Leonard. The adults chatted away while JD sat impatiently in a chair. He’d brought a book with him here; his mom had advised against it, but he knew he’d need one. He was just about to pull it out of his black hoodie as unnoticeably as he could, a skill he’d practiced quite a bit in school, when he’d heard hesitant footsteps coming from the front door and entering the living room. Out of pure curiosity, JD turned to look.

“Oh, good, she’s back.” Leonard said, a bit too excitedly for JD but he didn’t comment on it. “Jason, this is Veronica.”

The first time JD had seen Veronica Sawyer, the love of his life, when they were both nine years old, she didn’t seem particularly excited to meet him. She barely peeked into the living room at first, and seemed to cringe when her dad had announced her presence. She seemed small, JD noted; definitely smaller than him, and what made her even smaller was the way she seemed to be positively shrinking into herself. She was wearing this big, blue sweater with stars on it, and a rainbow scarf that definitely didn’t match her whole pretend-I’m-not-here vibe. Her hair didn’t quite match it, either; it was brown and big and frizzy, and in JD’s opinion too long to be comfortable. Her skin was pale and her eyes were big and brown, and they widened even further when she’d caught sight of the two new people in the living room. She wasn’t a people person, that much JD could tell, but it seemed that she was a different kind of antisocial than him. A more scared kind; she looked like a drop of rain could send her into a panic attack right about now.

“Veronica, honey.” Her mom asked, seemingly going for gentle but JD recognized the slight behave tone to her voice. “Did you have fun at Martha’s?”

“Yeah.” Veronica said softly, almost a whisper, looking down at the ground.

Veronica’s parents introduced her to JD’s mom, who greeted her with a warm smile that somehow seemed to ease her obvious nerves, and to JD. He gave her a sort of finger wave, not really thinking about it much, and she actually gave him a small smile that didn’t seem too forced. He wasn’t sure why that had made him happy, but he chose not to dwell on it.

Amelia had to leave shortly after; too shortly, in JD’s opinion. The Sawyer couple seemed nice (if a bit overly polite), and Veronica didn’t seem so bad, but JD really wasn’t looking forward to spending the rest of his evening sitting in awkward silence with a tiny girl who seemed to be as fragile as a porcelain doll and scared of human beings. Still, he had no choice. His mom went to work, and the adult Sawyers went to prepare dinner in the kitchen, leaving a reluctant JD and a jumpy Veronica alone in the living room.

Veronica hesitantly left her hovering position by the living room entrance and went to sit on the couch, picking at her nails as she did.

“So…” she started, voice quiet, seemingly wanting to make the situation less awkward. “Hi.”

JD nodded at her, finding her reluctance somewhere between incredibly dumb and mildly amusing. “Greetings.” That made her do that small smile again, like from before.

“Jason’s a cool name.” she said, somewhat lamely.

“Actually, I prefer JD.” JD volunteered, not much better than her own feeble attempt at conversation.

“Oh.” Veronica said. Or squeaked, is a more appropriate way to put it. “That’s, um, also cool.” She said simply, and he noticed the tip of her finger get red where she was picking at it.

He looked away from her for a second, and out of the corner of his eye he noticed her eyes immediately jump to inspect him. She wasn’t big on eye contact, he’d gathered. She seemed to take him in, and at some point when he’d looked back, he noticed her frowning. In fact, she seemed so confused by something that she didn’t even flinch when he turned to her.

“Do you have a book in your hoodie?” she blurted, voice louder than before. JD halted at that; did she have x-ray vision or something?

“How…” he said lamely, dumbfounded. “How did you do that?”

She shrugged, and looked back down at the ground. “It was creasing unevenly.” She explained, somewhat bashfully. “And it didn’t look like you were hiding something small, and the creases seemed like they were touching the edges of something, and there were four edges. So, um, I just figured.” She finished with her voice going a bit on the quieter side.

“That was impressive.” JD couldn’t help but say, noticing the way it made the tiniest of smiles creep onto her face. “Are you, like, a genius or something?”

Veronica just shrugged. But then she looked up, and her small smile turned more into a grin that very much surprised him. “I hide books all the time.”

He couldn’t help but grin back at her. “Wow,” he started sarcastically, “Hiding books? What a rebel.” She let out this giggle, and it came out loud and like nothing he’d ever heard before. She seemed to catch onto it immediately, slapping her hand over her mouth for a brief moment.

“Yeah, well.” She muttered, seemingly still trying to hold in her laughter. He wasn’t sure why she was hiding it; it sounded quite nice, from the little he’d heard. Strange, sure, but oddly contagious.

“It’s not like you’re much better.” She teased gently, that soft grin back on her face. Maybe teasing wasn’t the right word, exactly, but there was a hint of joking to her tone.

He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Fair.” He said. She hid her mouth with her hand as slyly as she could (which was not slyly at all), and JD heard a squeak of laughter behind it. He had half a mind to tell her to stop hiding it, but he didn’t.

He did want to keep the conversation going, though. “So, you like reading?” he asked. Veronica nodded, but it didn’t seem like she was trying not to talk, just that she was maybe more content with quiet answers for the time being. “What’s your favorite book?”

She tried to conceal herself, but JD could tell from the way her eyes lit up that her squirming now wasn’t an anxious kind. “Anne of The Green Gables.”

“I hadn’t read that one.” JD said, remembering that he’d heard the name but never had the chance to try it out. “What’s it about?”

Veronica launched into an explanation. She babbled away about some redheaded girl living in a farm, and her voice grew louder and louder and her body less and less tense as she spoke. JD liked watching her this way; with her face alight like this, she didn’t seem so fragile or scared anymore. She talked until her parents said that dinner was ready, and while they ate spaghetti (with criminal amounts of oregano), she asked him about his own favorite books and other interests and old hometown. He enjoyed talking to her; sure, at some points her voice would suddenly grow quiet and she’d dwindle down, seemingly self-aware, but those moments seemed to go away rather fast. And when his mom came to get him and he gave Veronica another finger-wave, she didn’t even try to hide her giggle, and that felt weirdly like a win.

So no, when they were nine years old, Veronica didn’t become his other half in the beginning. It took a lot of slightly awkward dinners, and a couple months of school, and walking home together every day, and seeing her clam up and open up and then clam up again, and get bullied, and discover sarcasm, and discover that she could pretty much wrestle like a boy (JD kind of blamed himself for that one), but Veronica ended up becoming his best friend. His favorite person.

And the love of his life, but there’s still time to get to that.

Chapter Text

The first time Veronica and JD had fought, she was ten years old.

Veronica had never been one for conflict. Even when she got bullied, she’d usually just sit there and take it, as much as it hurt. JD thought she was ridiculous for that, and that if people were mean to her she should be mean back. She said that she knew but she just couldn’t do it, not for herself, so when she got bullied he protected her just like she protected Martha. Martha always promised that if JD got bullied she’d protect him just to make it all go full circle, and Veronica said she was sweet while JD just laughed.

Still, today, Veronica didn’t stay quiet. And surprisingly, it wasn’t because she was getting bullied.

Well, not directly, at least. But today was one of those days where Kurt and Ram felt like they could be as mean as they wanted and get no consequences. Granted, that was practically every day, but usually even Sherwood’s meanest fifth graders had their limits. Not today, though. Veronica was sitting alone in her classroom, since Martha was sick and JD was in the bathroom, so she was basically trying to shrink into herself in her seat by the wall as she wrote in her diary. She wasn’t writing anything important; just practicing forgery, which was a neat little trick she recently found out she could do. She’d just almost perfected JD’s messy scrawl, and she was determinately trying to get it right. So determinately, in fact, that she didn’t notice someone come and grab her diary from right under her pencil.

“What are you writing?” a voice asked mockingly, a voice Veronica recognized and very much dreaded. She looked up, and wasn’t surprised to see Kurt holding her diary over his head, and was even less surprised to see Ram shadowing behind him. Why Martha had a crush on that guy, she’d never understand. She stayed quiet, willing for them to just realize that she wasn’t in the mood and leave her alone, but no such luck.

“My buddy Kurt just asked you a question.” Ram said from behind Kurt’s shoulder, his voice menacing even at ten. Or, well, maybe it was mostly menacing to Veronica, who was ten.

Realizing that she had to answer, Veronica tried her best to come up with something.

“Give it back.” Is all she managed to squeak, her throat having closed up the way it always did when she got nervous. Kurt and Ram just laughed, the sound obnoxiously loud and making Veronica flinch.

“What are you going to do about it, Veronica Mouse?” Kurt taunted. Veronica flinched at the nickname. It was a relatively new invention; most kids at school always picked on her for being as quiet as she was, and Veronica Mouse was just one of a cluster of nicknames she’d had over her school career. But something was worse about it, worse than anything else she’d been called before. Maybe because it was so, so dumb; putting Veronica before mouse just sounded so wrong. And maybe it was because she’d heard Heather Chandler talking about its real meaning about a week ago at recess: Veronica was Veronica Mouse, because she was quiet and squeaky and small, and Martha was Mute Button Martha, because she was too big to be a mouse. Something about that description made Veronica unbearably angry, but she didn’t do anything about it. Still, thinking about it made her cringe.

“Yeah, what are you going to do?” Ram parroted, towering over Veronica who was still cowering at her desk. She’d have stood up, but she was terrified to move and it wouldn’t have made that big of a difference. Her mom always said that her growth spurt would come soon, that she wouldn’t be small forever; that maybe it’ll just take her longer than other kids. In times like these, Veronica found herself willing it to come as soon as possible. Plus, from her spot in the chair it was easier to pretend she could ignore the rest of the classroom’s eyes on her.

God, where was JD?

“Give me back my diary.” Veronica tried again, her voice louder this time. That wasn’t necessarily a good thing, though, she realized when the boys in front of her hollered with laughter again.

“Oh, it’s a diary?” Kurt said with the kind of evil joy you wouldn’t think was possible in a ten-year-old, but then again, kids are cruel.

“Open it!” someone called from the other side of the classroom, and Veronica recognized the voice of Courtney. She’d never really liked her. Soon, the entire class started chanting at the boys to open the diary, and Veronica could only sit frozen in her place and bite her lip so her sobs won’t escape.

The boys were holding the diary over her, as if she’d even be stupid enough to try and get it back. She kind of wished they’d just open it, get it all over with. Of course, she also wished she had a single bone of bravery in her body, but she knew that would probably never happen. The chanting of open it and Veronica Mouse were deafening to her ears, and after Heather Duke yelled “Look! She’s about to cry!” the chants of Crybaby only made it all louder. Veronica wanted to disappear. She wanted a teacher. She wanted her parents. She wanted Martha. She wanted JD.

As if she’d summoned him with her restless thoughts, JD walked through the door of the classroom just then. He looked at the chaos for a brief second before quickly seeking out Veronica, the way he always did. When his eyes fell on her, and on the familiar notebook in Kurt’s hand, he got this angry look. She didn’t like that look on him, particularly, but it seemed to always show up when she was being bullied. She wasn’t sure why.

“Stop it.” JD said harshly, his voice loud but calm as he stepped up to Kurt and Ram. Veronica was still watching from her desk, internally grateful that he’d decided to come back.

“Or what, Shadow Boy?” Ram taunted. Shadow Boy; another relatively new invention. Not new, actually, but rarely used, since no one ever really bullied JD. Veronica kind of adored the way people seemed to be scared to mess with him. He was like Heather Chandler, in that immune to teasing way, but a lot less mean. You didn’t have to be a genius to guess the nickname’s origin; JD’s tendency to wear nothing but black. Her classmates were rather uncreative, Veronica had always thought, but words still hurt.

“Yeah, you can’t protect your girlfriend.” Kurt said, the last word rolling off of his tongue with an evil smirk and sending the class into laughter. Veronica noticed JD’s fists clench at his sides.

Now, she wasn’t entirely sure what she’d thought he was about to do. She hoped he’d stand next to her, maybe tell them to leave her alone, and take the attention off of her. Or maybe he’d just do this thing where he held up a book really high and people got scared. What she hadn’t expected, though, was for JD to lift up his clenched fist and punch Kurt square in the face, and do the same to Ram a moment later. Veronica actually gasped, and the class erupted into a new type of chaos.

They fought, the three of them. An actual, physical fight, the kind Veronica had only ever seen in movies. Granted, it wasn’t nearly as epic as the fights on TV, but it was slightly terrifying all the same. It was punches by relatively small fists thrown at faces that twisted in pain and kicks on shins and possibly a few tears shed (not by JD, though). Veronica wanted to call a teacher, but something kept her rooted to her seat as she watched the fistfight with wide eyes. In the end a few teachers were called, dragging the three boys away and ordering the frantic class to settle down. As Veronica stayed in her seat and watched one of her best friends get led away with his fists still clenched, her heart dropped when she noticed the blood on his nose.

God, what had he done?

She was mad. She was so mad. He couldn’t just punch people; that’s not how it worked. Sure, they got bullied, but they had to be above it, just like Veronica’s parents have always said. He couldn’t just go up to the two most popular boys in class and punch them because they were being mean. It was wrong, so wrong.

And it gave him a bloody nose, which really didn’t sit right with her.

Veronica didn’t see JD for the rest of the day. She assumed his mom had been called and he had to go home. She wondered if he’d gotten punished; he deserved to, in her head. Punching and fighting had to be punished, or else he’ll never learn. Even though he was her friend, Veronica was beyond furious at him.

Although, she had to admit, being left alone for the rest of the day was quite nice.

Still, when she got home, Veronica was positively infuriated. She angrily scribbled her thoughts in her diary as soon as she went up to her room, not even caring how careless her usually perfect handwriting looked. She could fix that later; right now she just needed to write.

Dear diary,

She started, clutching her favorite pencil so hard her knuckles were nearly white. Still, she was careful not to rip the page in her frantic writing.

JD punched someone today. Can you believe it, diary? He punched Kurt and Ram in the face! They were being mean, though; they took you and refused to give you back and then they called me Veronica Mouse again. I wish they’d stop doing that.

But he can’t just punch them. It’s wrong, and mean, and I’m mad at him. I’m so mad at him, diary, you have no idea. Well I don’t know if he does, either, because we haven’t really talked yet. He had to go home, because he punched someone. I still can’t believe it. Tomorrow at school, I’ll tell him that I’m mad. And that it’s wrong, and I hope he’ll say sorry. Not only to me; to Kurt and Ram, too. I know they don’t deserve it, diary, but I’m sure it’ll make JD feel better on the inside, even if he won’t know it at first. And I-

Veronica’s angry scrawling was cut off at that point, by her mom yelling something out to her.

“Veronica!” Carrie called from downstairs. “Jason’s here!”

Veronica froze, the pencil falling out of her hands. She figured she’d see him at school tomorrow, have time to think of what she’ll say. She was too angry to deal with him right now, in her opinion.

“Tell him to go home!” she yelled towards the door, picking up the pencil and messing with it in her fingers. When she heard silence, she figured that was the end of it. But then a knock came at her half-open door, and she turned around to see JD grinning at her, a bandage over his nose.

She scowled. “You hurt your nose.” She stated simply.

“It wasn’t me.” JD said, still grinning his usual jokey smile. “It was Kurt. Or Ram, I guess, but probably Kurt.”

For once, Veronica was unamused. “I told you to go home.” She said, her voice harsh. JD’s face fell.

“I thought you were kidding.” He said, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “Is everything okay?” did he seriously not get it?

“You can’t do that, JD.” Veronica said, trying to summon what her parents called her bossy voice. She preferred grown-up voice. Whatever it was, it usually worked with JD.

Right now, though, he just looked puzzled. “Do what?”

Veronica sighed in annoyance, placing her hands on her waist like she was much older than she actually was. “You can’t just go around punching people, JD!” she said, her voice growing a little higher as she snapped.

JD looked like he still didn’t understand. “But they were mean to you.” He reminded her. “I can punch people if they’re mean!”

“No, you can’t!” Veronica exclaimed, exasperated. “You can’t punch people! That’s not how the world works!”

“Wait,” JD started, his tone much less harsh than hers, “Are you mad at me?” he seemed almost scared of her answer. She didn’t have time to dwell on that, though.

“Of course I’m mad at you!” she cried, kind of flapping her arms to punctuate her point, but then realizing how stupid she looked and putting them back at her sides.

JD didn’t seem to notice her arm-flapping, though. His expression turned that much softer in a heartbeat. If Veronica fully knew what that word meant, she’d say vulnerable. “Nikki, don’t be mad.” He pleaded, his voice softer than she’d ever heard it. “I don’t want you to be mad. I’m sorry. Just please don’t be mad.”

“It’s too late.” Veronica said stubbornly, crossing her arms over her chest. She was giving him a bit of a hard time, she knew that, but she was mad and she wanted him to know that. “Go home.” She ordered, voice harsh.

He left with a muttered “Goodbye” and his face fallen, and she waited until he was gone to cry into her pillow. She’d been too hard on him. She meant for him to apologize, not look as sad as he did, but it was too late now.

Veronica spent the rest of the afternoon in her room, wondering how she should handle the situation while hugging her favorite stuffed animals for comfort. When she went downstairs for dinner, she was still beyond gloomy. Her parents could tell, but they didn’t comment on it at the table. Later, though, when Veronica was watching a cartoon on TV with her dad that he never admitted he liked, he said something.

“What happened with JD today?” Leonard asked carefully, and Veronica’s head rose from the pillow it was laying on. “Why were you so mad at him?”

Veronica hesitated for a moment, but decided to be honest. “He punched two boys today in class.” She explained, noting her dad’s slightly surprised look. “It was Ram and Kurt.”

“He punched them? Just like that?” Leonard asked, eyebrows furrowed. Veronica shook her head.

“They were being mean to me.” She said, her voice growing quieter. “They took my diary and they called me Veronica Mouse again. And then JD saw them do it, and he punched them really hard. And there was blood in his nose.” She tried not to cringe at the memories; it’s been quite a day.

“So why are you mad?” Leonard asked, lowering the volume on the TV just the slightest bit.

“Because he can’t just punch people.” Veronica frowned, her point still making sense in her head despite how guilty she felt. “Violence is always bad; it’s like you and mom told me. He can’t just punch people, even if they’re being mean. He has to be the bigger person and rise above it.” She finished her point proudly, hoping her dad was pleased with her remembering what he’d always said.

Leonard sighed. He was used to his daughter being that way; insightful, beyond smart, but too obedient for her own good.

“Look, Ronnie.” He started, now muting the TV completely. Veronica didn’t protest. “You are a very, very good person. And I’m proud of you for sticking to what you belive in.” Veronica started feeling uneasy, sensing a but was coming. “But I think that JD was just trying to protect you.” Leonard continued. “He may have not done it the right way, and it’s good that you told him that, but you should be a little easier on him. He only meant good, Ronnie. He wanted to protect you, because he’s your friend.”

Veronica frowned, although she knew he was right. “But if he meant good, why did he do something bad?” she asked, still not understanding.

Leonard smiled, and if it seemed a bit sad Veronica didn’t catch it. “Because sometimes that’s how the world works.”

Veronica nodded. None of it made much sense to her ten-year-old mind, but she realized that JD was just trying to look after her, the way she looked after Martha. “I should apologize tomorrow.” She said guiltily. “I yelled at him.”

“I think that’s a great idea.” Her dad said, ruffling her already messy hair the way he always did. “But don’t feel too guilty, okay? You were sticking to your morals, and that’s a good thing.” Veronica gave a nod and a small smile.

Soon, an idea sparked in her head. “I should make him an apology gift.” She said determinedly, hopping off the couch and not even bothering to look back at her dad as she raced for the house’s stairs. He just laughed softly and finished watching the cartoon by himself.

Veronica left for school the next day with her apology gift clutched in her hands. She wanted to knock on JD’s door, but when she left she saw him already a decant distance from their homes. She had to walk fast to catch up with him, so when she did, she was a little breathless.

“JD!” she called out when she wasn’t too far away. He turned around, and seemed confused to see her. She supposed it made sense, after how mad she’d been yesterday.

“Hey, Veronica.” He said, his voice a lot more careful than it usually was with her. She hoped it wouldn’t last.

“I got you something.” She said, opening her palm in front of him. In it rested a string bracelet, one that she’d had to go to sleep late to make; it was blue, her favorite color, and black, which was his. “It’s an apology gift. I’m sorry I yelled.” She raised her chin proudly; there, she’d done it. She apologized.

“It’s okay.” JD said honestly. “I’m sorry I made you mad.” He plucked the bracelet from Veronica expectant palm, albiet hesitantly.

“It’s okay.” Veronica said, no less truthful than he was. “I’m not mad anymore.” He smiled at her, and it made her grin.

“I made myself one, too.” She said, pulling the identical extra bracelet out of her pocket. “So we can make them pact bracelets.”

“What’s the pact?” JD asked, already messing with the loose thread on his bracelet.

“A pact to not fight, because it’s stupid.” Veronica said proudly. She raised her hand for a shake, the way she’d seen adults on TV do when they closed an important agreement. “Deal?”

JD grabbed her hand and shook on it. “Deal.”

“But it means that you can’t just punch people, okay?” Veronica told him sternly, her grown-up voice making a comeback.

“Promise.” JD said, lending out his pinky, and she took it with hers. Pinky promises were more important than handshakes, anyway.

Chapter Text

The first time JD really, truly thought about his future, he was eleven years old.

Some people would say that eleven was too soon to be thinking about what you wanted to do with your life; some people being, well, most people. And JD thought the same thing; he didn’t know much about his future, nor did he want to. He knew he wanted to have an okay life with okay people, and that’s about it.

Veronica, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. Since that one Saturday her older cousin moved a grand total of an eight-hour drive away from Sherwood, the day Veronica discovered that leaving was even an option, she’d formed a plan. JD wasn’t sure how, honestly, but in what was no more than a week, his best friend became a walking college brochure. She’d formed a full life plan; she was going to study at Harvard, and be a lawyer, and live as far away from Sherwood, Ohio as she could go. New York, she’d said, or Boston, or Los Angles. She even made what she called a “dream board”, which was essentially a piece of cardboard with printed out photos of colleges and buildings and written out plans in her neat handwriting.

She showed the dream board to JD with all the pride of an eleven-year-old who refused to admit how bad they were at crafts, explaining points of it while JD just frowned, looking at the cardboard with a confused expression.

“Where did you even get all of these things printed out?” he asked, looking at the various photos scattered all over the board.

“My dad has a printer at his office.” Veronica explained, tapping her bitten nails against the cardboard. It was a new habit she’d picked up, the biting thing; JD always noticed her doing it at school. One time, he slapped her hand out of her mouth, because he heard his mom say that biting your nails was bad for you. Veronica lunged at him in retaliation, because she’d recently discovered the wonderful world of play-fighting and just how surprisingly good she was at it. For a girl who was the size of a doll and afraid to sneeze when not around the right people, Veronica could wrestle.

“Doesn’t this look so cool?” she asked now, pointing to some photo of an old building glued onto the board. “It’s Harvard.” Her eyes shined as she spoke, and JD found that looking at her was much more interesting than looking at the photo.

Still, he looked at the old building as Veronica pointed at it, babbling on about some history he couldn’t care less about.

“Isn’t Harvard, like, really far away?” JD asked her at some point, once she moved on to talking about college majors.

Veronica paused, and when she looked back at him, her big eyes were shining even more. “Six hours by car.” She said excitedly. “I’ll be six hours away from here, JD!” she seemed beyond happy at the prospect of leaving Sherwood behind. And he understood; their town was boring and pointless, and Veronica had all these dreams that were so big he could never even begin to think of anything like them. Still, the thought of Veronica being so far away from him made him feel weird, even though he knew it was seven years away.

He didn’t get the chance to tell her that, though, since she immediately pointed back to her board and kept on talking. And, well, when Veronica talked about something she was excited about, JD couldn’t not listen.

The first time that week she talked about something that wasn’t college related came on Friday afternoon. She called him after school, beyond thrilled, and explained too quickly that there was going to be a meteor shower that night and that her parents have finally, finally allowed her to sleep in the backyard to watch it; in a tent and everything. She explained that Martha was going somewhere with her family over the weekend, and then she asked if he wanted to come watch the meteors with her. And, in addition, pull a white night. Because “My parents will be all the way inside” and “Who can stop us?”.

JD almost laughed at that suggestion; scratch that, he did laugh. Out loud. And he couldn’t see Veronica over the phone, but he knew just how hard she was frowning.

“What’s so funny?” she asked, sounding puzzled.

“Are you seriously asking me to pull a white night?” JD asked, still laughing, much to Veronica’s confusion. “Do you even know what that means?”

“It means staying up all night.” Veronica said confidently. “What’s funny about that?” she was getting a bit defensive now, so he tried his best to conceal his laughter.

“Just…” he started, his cackles replaced with a slightly superior grin. “You go to bed at nine, Veronica.”

“So what?” she said, still defensive. “I’ll just not sleep on Friday. It’s easy, you do it all the time.” She reasoned. Veronica was just about the only person in the world who knew about JD’s sleepless nights, and how frequent they’ve been becoming. He didn’t tell her why they happened, exactly, but she was the only one who even knew they existed. She had to be, because sometimes during those nights he’d sneak out and climb through her window, startling her awake and rambling nonsense at her while she halfheartedly tried to tune him out by hiding in her blanket. Quarter heartedly, even, but she had her good girl reputation to uphold. He understood. Plus, bothering his half-asleep best friend was better than lying in bed with his stupid thoughts, even if she shoved the occasional pillow into his face.

Still, JD knew that the second he was out of that window, Veronica was asleep like the dead. Usually even before he was out. Which was why he was very, very skeptical of her ability to pull a white night. After a school day, no less.

“It’s easy for me.” JD said into the phone. “You are going to fall asleep before midnight.” He was being a little condescending, he was aware, but sometimes he couldn’t help himself.

Veronica was having none of it, though, and he couldn’t see her arms crossing but he knew they were. “No I won’t!” she insisted, voice defensive and whiny in a way that made him grin. He could always tell when he was winning with her; Veronica showed every emotion on her face and her body and her voice, and this time was no different.

She paused for a moment, probably to get her normal voice back. “Look, are you coming or not?” she asked eventually, irritation written all over her tone.

“I’ll be there at six?” JD tried, not so mocking anymore. Even he knew she had her limits.

“Sure. The meteors are coming at ten, though, so we’ll have time.” And then she hung up the phone; possibly because she was eager or just annoyed at him. He wouldn’t have blamed her for either option.

He was knocking at her door at six and two minutes, and when she opened she was grinning with obvious excitement, all petty, halfhearted annoyance from their phone call now long gone. She dragged him to the backyard and eagerly showed him their tent; it was pretty small and didn’t seem very stable, but he put his bag into it nonetheless. They were called inside for dinner soon, and she shoveled the food down her throat despite her mom’s reminders that “Eating like that won’t make the meteors come any faster, Veronica”. Still, she finished her plate of chicken and rice in record time, and JD had to admit he was impressed. She spent the rest of the meal slyly kicking him under the table, and not-so-slyly squealing a giggle every time he retaliated. Every time one of her parents looked over in suspicion, though, she was the picture of innocence; she had quite the talent at that. To himself, JD sometimes thought he’d corrupted her. Although he knew Veronica could be plenty infuriating without him, he was definitely an enabler. He never really minded that fact.

They still had plenty of time before the meteors after dinner, but Veronica seemingly couldn’t wait. So she dragged JD outside, and they played game after game of Uno in their tiny tent because Veronica was an incredibly sore loser and JD was alarmingly good at manipulating card games. That whole charade led to a chase around her backyard, which ended with one of them pinned to the ground and the other sitting on top of him gleefully with her hair in a complete mess. JD didn’t want to talk about it.

Maybe he was a bit of a sore loser, too.

They went inside at some point, using the living room that was surprisingly unoccupied to watch a movie. Veronica picked it; Snow White, one of her favorites. For once, she’d actually been in the mood to watch The Princess Bride, but they both agreed that watching it without Martha would be an unforgivable act of betrayal. So, JD sat through another Disney princess movie with Veronica’s croaky singing along. When he pointed something out about how bad her voice was, she sang even louder. When he pretended to grimace, she shoved a pillow into his face.

In moments like these, he sometimes forgot she was quiet. It was easy; when she was spitefully scream-singing at him, or masterfully pestering him with sarcasm until he kind of wanted to shove her against a wall (but, you know, lovingly), or picking a fight with him when she was bored that always left her face red and her hair a mess, or going on and on about college or meteors or some book, it was easy to forget she wasn’t always this way. That he was one of the few (see: two) lucky people who got to see this side of her. Maybe he was the only one; while she definitely didn’t hide herself with Martha, she never let herself get as playfully mean and loud as she did with JD. They had a different type of friendship, JD knew that, just like his own friendship with Martha wasn’t like his friendship with Veronica. And JD liked their friendship. Not for the first time that week, JD found himself thinking that he’d miss this side of her when they wouldn’t talk every day. When she’ll be in college, with all these new people she’d have to hide herself from. Because when Veronica wasn’t with just him, it was easy to remember she was quiet.

But when her parents walked into the living room and asked her to sing a little lower, and Veronica flushed pink and sunk into herself, and JD remembered she was quiet again, he realized that he’d miss this part of her, too. He didn’t want seven years to go by.

The movie was over at just around nine thirty, so they went back to the backyard and sat right outside of the tent, waiting for the meteors. JD was expecting Veronica to be bouncing impatiently, and when he noticed she wasn’t, he looked over and saw her eyes fluttering closed.

“Are you falling asleep?” he asked with a laugh. Veronica’s eyes flew open, a scowl on her face.

“No!” she insisted, her voice whiny.

“Jesus, Nikki, it’s nine thirty.” JD continued, laughing even further at her deepening glare. She was pretty cute when she was tired, he noticed. She seemed softer. “Are you secretly an old lady?”

“Shut up.” Veronica grumbled, lying down on the grass next to the tent. JD lied next to her, plucking out blades of green and throwing them in her general direction. They barely grazed her.

“When I’m at Harvard, I won’t have to go to bed early.” She said after a beat of silence, reflective. “I’ll pull white nights all the time, and I won’t get tired at all.”

“You’d have to do it alone, though.” JD muttered under his breath. Veronica looked over at him.

“What?”

He shook his head, hair rubbing against the grass. “Nothing.”

They waited in relative silence for the next thirty minutes, Veronica distracting her tired mind by humming Snow White songs and JD pretending he wasn’t listening to her. Her voice was beyond terrible, but he was bored and his best friend’s humming beat listening to crickets.

The meteors finally came a bit after ten. Veronica rose from the grass immediately when the first one flew through the sky, her eyes widening with joy.

“JD, look!” she said eagerly, shaking his arm like he was the one who’d had his eyes closed a second ago. He slowly sat up, looking at the sky and then looking at Veronica.

“I’m looking.” He said, lingering on her a bit longer than he planned to. Because for the first time in the past three years, he’d reached a new revelation about her.

Veronica Sawyer, his best friend, was beautiful.

JD had never really called anyone beautiful. He knew Veronica was pretty; it was all his mom ever said every time she saw her, making Veronica blush and mess with her hands until JD dragged her up to his room. But now, as he was looking at Veronica, he noticed that she was more than pretty. Sure, her eyes were big and this addictive type of brown, and her face was round and pale and doll-like, and her hair seemed impossibly soft even when it was a messy bird’s nest on her head, but it was more than that. When JD looked at her right now, at her brown eyes widening in excitement and her doll-like face in an astounded smile and her hair in a mess with grass blades all over it, she looked beautiful. It was something about the way she seemed so… he couldn’t describe it. Happy, maybe? Hopeful?

Enchanted, he decided eventually. Did he fully know what that word meant? No, probably not. But he knew it meant something magical, something sparkly, something that made you happy and that you couldn’t look away from. And that was what Veronica looked like to him, right now; magical gaze up at the sky and sparkly eyes and a smile you just couldn’t look away from. She was enchanted watching the sky, and he was enchanted watching her. His best friend. His beautiful, beautiful best friend.

“Isn’t it amazing?” she breathed eventually, snapping JD out of his trance. He hoped she didn’t notice the way he’d lingered.

He looked up at the sky. The meteor shower was gorgeous, sure, but he had to physically resist looking at Veronica out of the corner of his eye. “Amazing.” He agreed, and couldn’t help a glance at her when she smiled.

When the meteors finally stopped a while later, Veronica’s parents came outside to say they were going to sleep. Veronica smiled at them, the picture of innocence, saying that she and JD will go to sleep soon and hugging them good night like she didn’t give JD the most ridiculously mischievous look the second they walked inside the house.

“Wow.” JD couldn’t help but say as Veronica sat on the grass next to him, after her parents went inside. “Such an evil genius, you are.”

“I know.” She said gleefully. Then she looked at his self-satisfied grin and frowned. “Oh, wait.” She realized. “You’re making fun of me.”

He just nodded.

“Well, I don’t care.” She snickered briefly at her own joke, and then lied down on the grass like she had before, but her eyes weren’t falling closed this time. JD lied next to her, thoughts swirling around in his mind as he watched her watch the sky.

There was a beat of comfortable, contemplating, sleepy silence, that JD didn’t particularly hate but also didn’t particularly like. He took a while to break it, though.

“You won’t see stars in the city.” He said eventually, almost a mutter with how soft his voice was.

Veronica turned her head towards him, her hair dragging against the grass as she did. “What?”

“You said you wanted to live in a big city, right? After you go to Harvard?” JD reminded her. She just looked at him, and he took that as agreement. “You can’t see the stars as good in big cities. It’s this thing called light pollution.” He explained.

Veronica frowned. “Oh.” She said simply. “That’s too bad. I love stars.”

JD looked over at her, clad in a dark blue pajama set with stars and moons and, weirdly enough, cats strewn all over it, and held back a sarcastic I know.

Veronica looked back up at the sky, but JD’s head was still turned towards her.

“I’ll miss you.” He mumbled at some point. She turned towards him, and he knew she heard it. Their heads were inches apart, after all. “When you go to Harvard.” He continued, noticing her slightly confused expression. “When you’ll be six hours away.”

“Oh.” She said again. It didn’t look like the thought never crossed her mind, though, and something about that made JD happy.

Soon, though, her eyes lit up, and she looked at him with this excited glint in them. “Maybe you won’t have to.” She said, almost a whisper.

JD furrowed his eyebrows. “Elaborate.” He said, and if she wanted to tell him off for once again “talking like he had a stick up his butt” (her words, not his), she didn’t.

Instead, she scooted just the littlest bit closer to him on the grass before she spoke. “Maybe you can also go to Harvard.”

JD scoffed. “Harvard’s for really smart people, Nikki. Like you.”

Veronica frowned. “But you’re smart.” She said matter-of-factly. He just gave her a look.

“Okay, fine.” She said eventually. “Then maybe you can go to a different college; close to Harvard. And we can both leave this place together, and live in the city and stay up late every night.” Her face was positively alight as she described her plan. “Ooh!” she jumped, though she was still lying on the ground but the energy was there. “We can do a road trip! For six hours!”

JD couldn’t help but beam. He had to admit, going to college with Veronica would be amazing; that way he won’t have to miss her, nor would he have to stay in this sleepy, boring town.

“We won’t stay up every night, though.” JD said, and Veronica’s beaming face fell. “You’ll fall asleep before midnight.” She paused for a moment before giving a forceful shove at his shoulder.

“Shut up.” She muttered, turning away from him. He grinned.

There was another beat of silence, but Veronica broke it this time.

“So, what do you say?” she asked eventually, eyes still pointed at the sky. “College together?”

He smiled. The idea made him excited already; now the seven years couldn’t go by fast enough. “Absolutely.” He said decisively. Veronica did turn to him then, a beam almost splitting her face in half. He’d already been turned towards her with a grin rivaling her own.

They stayed in relative silence for the next few minutes, watching the stars they won’t be able to see in the city. At some point, when JD looked down at his oddly silent best friend, he noticed her eyes fluttering shut again. He gave a poke at her waist, watching in amusement as she recoiled with a startle.

“Stop falling asleep.” He ordered. “It’s too early for that.”

She glared at him. “I’m not falling asleep.” She insisted. JD gave her a look, and she smacked his arm. He gave her waist another poke, and this time she let out a squeal, so he used her half-asleep state to dig his fingers into her ribs and tickle her. She fell into a startled laughing fit, too tired to fight against him. She should’ve never told him she was ticklish; he enjoyed using it against her too much.

Veronica kept laughing that loud laugh of hers, batting at JD’s hands but not succeeding at all in pulling them away. Her face was turning red and she was frantically squirming, and his own laughter was almost as loud as hers. It was a miracle her parents couldn’t hear them from inside.

He let her go when she was genuinely unable to breathe, laughing as she gave him a death glare. He found it so funny that this bossy-look of hers used to work on him; now he just looked at it and thought she looked ridiculous. And honestly, with her general size and giant eyes and round face, kind of adorable.

They talked in whispered giggles for around another hour, about nothing in particular, but soon Veronica fell asleep. He considered waking her up just to tease her about it, but decided not to. She’d probably punch the living daylights out of him if she’d be awake enough. Plus, he figured, she looked peaceful when she slept. All soft and content. That was another side of her, he’d realized. That not a lot of people got to see.

JD didn’t know much about his future. Not what college he wanted to go to, not what he wanted to study, not where he wanted to live, not what he wanted to do. He didn’t know much about his future, except that he wanted Veronica in it with him. Whether they’d end up in New York or Boston or Los Angles or right back here in Sherwood, Ohio, he wanted her there. All of her; every beautiful side.

He fell asleep surprisingly easily that night, Veronica’s arm pressed against his and their sleeping bags long forgotten inside the small, unstable tent. And if Veronica’s pajama clad shoulder resting against his made his stomach feel funny, he pushed that to the back of his mind. That was for future him to handle.

Chapter Text

The first time Veronica realized JD was her safe space, she was twelve years old.

Safe space. That was something Veronica had been hearing a lot lately; ever since her first day of the sixth grade, it seemed to be one of the only things the grownups in her life said to her. Find your safe space, Veronica, they’d say. Right, like that was going to help when she was shaking and hiding in a corner and biting her lips so she won’t cry. Sometimes, she did it so hard they’d bleed.

Find your safe space. Yeah, as if. What even was a safe space? Was it a room? A view? A thought? A physical thing? Veronica had no idea. She’d tried asking, don’t get her wrong; she asked her mom, and she asked her dad, and she asked the school counselor they made her see, and when that didn’t work the therapist she went to two sessions with before practically begging her parents to let her just handle this on her own. All their answers were about the same; something along the lines of it looks different for everyone, or you’ll know it when you need it, or it’ll come to you at just the right time. The whole ordeal was giving Veronica a headache.

Stupid adults with their stupid vague answers, thinking they could fix everything about her just because one stupid middle school counselor diagnosed her with stupid anxiety. Whatever that even meant.

It’s not like she could say anything; not to them, at least. She could, however, complain to the one person in her life who’d been thinking her exact thoughts for years now. So, after her second session with the godforsaken therapist, Veronica climbed up to JD’s window (she’d started doing it last year, deciding that he shouldn’t be the only one to startle her with his presence at random moments) and knocked with more force than usual. JD, who was reading in his bed, noticed her and opened. She tumbled inside, landing ungracefully on the floor.

“Have you ever stuck that landing?” JD asked her sarcastically. Veronica sort of growled at him, getting off the floor and angrily flopping onto his bed, face hidden by her hair. JD blinked.

“You okay?” he asked, sitting down next to her.

“A safe space.” Veronica said angrily, not looking at him. He didn’t respond; he had zero idea what was happening, but when Veronica got angry she tended to be a bit ambiguous at first. He knew that, or at least she thought he did. “What even is a safe space, JD?”

“Therapy didn’t go so great?” he asked, calm but not careful.

“Is it a room?” Veronica continued her angry speech, pretty much ignoring him. “Is there a room that I’m supposed to go to when I have a panic attack?” Panic attack; another thing that all the adults seemed to fuss over. Veronica had apparently been having them since she was six or seven, and she hadn’t even known. She’d handled them just fine, she didn’t understand why she had to use all these weird breathing methods or start counting things she could see now that she knew what her bouts of nervousness were called.

“I hate adults.” Veronica groaned, talking more at JD than actually to him, and lied back on the bed until her head was touching the mattress.

“No, you don’t.” JD said casually. Veronica turned her head towards him, and he wasn’t even looking at her.

“Yes, I do.” She insisted.

“I hate adults.” JD said pointedly. “You are an optimistic idiot who believes everything they say to you.” now he was looking at her. Which was good; she wanted him to see how hard she was glaring.

“Gee, thanks.” She said sarcastically. Sarcasm was becoming her favorite form of communicating lately; her parents said that it was because she was becoming a teenager, but JD said that it was because she was fucked up, just like him. Veronica didn’t really like the word fucked (he called her childish for that, but her parents were so against cursing that it just felt wrong), so she hadn’t responded. She didn’t disagree, though. “And I don’t believe everything they say to me, by the way, and I’m not an idiot.”

“One, you definitely are an idiot.” JD stated, not missing a beat. Veronica reached out a hand and smacked his leg; he shoved at her shoulder in response. Their physical affection was still limited to pretty much only violence. “And two, you totally believe everything they say.” Veronica narrowed her eyes at him, but he continued. He’d stopped being threatened by her death stares long ago. “You’ve been ranting to me all week because you want to find your safe space.”

“I don’t want to find it.” Veronica insisted. “I just want to know what it is.” She muttered. What could she do; she was a curious person.

“It’s not a bad thing, you know.” JD said, leaning back on the wall, his head getting closer to Veronica’s. “Believing them.”

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “Look who’s talking. Don’t you always say that grownups are delusional for thinking they ‘can fix our brains’ or whatever?” she asked, adding sarcastic air quotes for emphasis.

“I’m saying they’re delusional for thinking they can fix my brain.” JD clarified. “I still think they can fix yours.”

“Excuse me, but my brain doesn’t need fixing.” Veronica said, her arrogant tone only half joking. “I am perfectly fine.”

“Right.” JD scoffed. “So you’re not planning to drag me and Martha into a very specific corner behind a very specific, distant tree tomorrow at lunch because you heard Kurt and Ram and the Heathers say they were going to have a dodgeball tournament and you’re scared of them knowing you ditched?” he finished with a pointed look at her. She scowled.

“Shut up.” She muttered. And for once, he did. The smirk on his face spoke volumes, though, so she smacked his leg again anyway.

Veronica went back home later that day, immediately being pestered by her parents with questions about therapy. She wasn’t sure what to respond. She grumbled out one-word answers and went upstairs, hearing her mom say something about her becoming a moody teenager. Veronica didn’t know what her safe space was, but it certainly wasn’t this.

She did try to execute her plan the next day. Right when lunch started she grabbed Martha and JD, the former following her keenly and the latter rolling his eyes as he trailed behind them. She tried leading them to the tree behind the gym; it was the place they usually hung out at, mostly her and Martha, when they wanted to keep away from crude comments or judging gawks. With JD, sometimes, Veronica allowed herself to be more in the public eye. He glared daggers at any cheerleader or jock who even dared approach them; and while Martha was beyond grateful, Veronica sometimes felt like she owed him her life. Or at the very least an ice cream cone. With sprinkles on it, of course.

Today, though, JD’s threatening looks and shadow-like appearance didn’t save them. Because when the trio were a mere few feet away from their blissfully far away tree, three dangerously familiar girls approached them; one exceptionally skinny and clad in green, one with impeccable hair covered in yellow, and one with a threatening, almost model-like walk dressed in all red. And as far as JD’s protection skills and Veronica and Martha’s pathetic wide-eyed stares could get them, a trio of losers could never win against all three Heathers. It was against the laws of nature, simply impossible. Which is why Veronica felt a pit drop in her stomach when the three most popular girls in school approached her and her friends, their heads held high and their smiles devilishly sweet and beyond clearly fake.

“Hey, guys!” Heather McNamara greeted them, her usual airheaded perkiness making an appearance and a complete contrast to her other friends’ hawkish eyes. Still, she knew what she was doing; that much was clear. “Coming to the dodgeball tournament?”

Before Veronica, JD or Martha could answer, Heather Chandler piped up. “Of course they are, Heather.” She said, addressing her bubbly friend though she was looking straight ahead of her at Veronica and her friends, threat written all over her face. “It’s not optional, after all. In the name of school spirit.”

Veronica gritted her teeth; such was her luck. She’d been stupid enough to think she could escape the popular kids’ wrath, but clearly she’d been wrong. “We’re just going there.” She said in her trademark quiet squeak, her throat seemingly unable to produce another sound with the way it was closing up.

“How very.” Heather Duke said, clearly sarcastic. Veronica would be lying if she said she understood the statement.

Heather Chandler turned towards her green-clad friend, strawberry blonde curls whipping at the air. “Shut up, Heather.” She hissed.

Duke seemed to shrink into herself. “Sorry, Heather.” She muttered, her voice not much louder than Veronica’s had been mere seconds earlier.

Chandler turned back to the group, a hawkish smile gracing her face. “See you soon, then.” She said, apparently pleased, turning around and sauntering away with her friends trailing behind her.

Veronica almost groaned; she’d been this close to pulling it off. Still, she turned to her friends with a grimace.

“Guess we’re playing, after all.” She said, noting that Martha’s dreading look wasn’t much different than her own. The two girls started walking in the opposite direction, towards where they knew the game was being held.

“Come on, guys.” JD stopped them, not following. “You know you don’t have to go.”

“Maybe you don’t.” Martha said softly, looking at the ground as she followed an equally wary Veronica. “They can’t do anything to you.”

“Then I’ll make sure they can’t do anything to you, either.” JD insisted. “This whole thing is so dumb; it’s not like they can hurt you.”

“I have geography with Heather Chandler next period. She’ll crucify me if we don’t go now.” Veronica said, almost shuddering at the mere thought of it. She gave JD an apologetic look, muttered a “Sorry, J”, and led Martha away. She knew he wouldn’t follow.

Veronica and Martha were put in the girls’ team very much against their will, and the game started. While they both planned to try and hide between the other kids until the end and somehow get out of this, their plan didn’t exactly work. It seemed that the popular kids were exclusively trying to hit the nerdier ones; and as much as the sixth grade boys of Sherwood, even the popular ones, hadn’t quite gotten their growth spurts yet, they still had impressive aim and highly questionable senses of humor.

Veronica and Martha didn’t go first. They weren’t the complete bottom of the barrel; a few other kids were targeted before them, like the math club nerds or the band geeks or the theater kids. Every time one of the nerdier kids got hit, the popular ones would howl with laughter; some obnoxious hollers, some high-pitched giggles, and the Heathers with their signature choir of hawkish laughter. Every time a kid left the game zone with their head down and their hair mussed, Veronica and Martha could only look at each other with looks of equal dread.

Veronica was wound up the entire game. She’d always been embarrassingly bad at sports; she tripped when she jumped, got a pain in her sides when she ran, and was pathetically out of breath every time she’d climbed through JD’s window. But now, with terrible unease (that her therapist would call anxiety) occupying her mind the entire game, she was beyond terrible. When a ball came her way, all she could do was duck; for once, she was grateful for her small size, since it helped her avoid far too many close calls of a ball whipping into her head. She was shaky on her legs every time she rose up, and the chorus of laughter following each kid’s exit of the game was far too loud and made her flinch. She tried staying behind Martha, who at least managed to stay focused on her surroundings. Veronica could only focus on the fast, unsteady beating of her heart; and she wasn’t even running.

She and Martha were targeted soon enough, barely a second after Betty Finn from the theater club left with her ponytail askew. Balls came flying at them, their colors bright and overwhelming for Veronica. She tried hiding and ducking, and Martha was trying her best, too, but she could only do so much. And when a green ball came flying at her side, it sent Martha tripping and she barely caught herself, her glasses falling in the process. She barely managed to catch them in her arms.

The cruel laughter soon followed, and Veronica’s pounding heart pinched when she saw Martha push her glasses up her nose and leave the field. She gave Veronica an apologetic look as she went to sit on the benches by the play area, and soon it hit Veronica; she was all alone. Her legs almost buckled underneath her, the pace of her frantic heart increasing. She looked away from Martha and ahead of herself, deciding that she wasn’t going to let them humiliate her. She also wasn’t going to cry, something that she now apparently needed to do, if the lump in her throat was any indicator. But easier thought than done, it seemed, because as soon as Veronica decided to will her heart to just shut up for once, will you? a red ball came flying at her from the boys’ side of the field and hit her square in the face, the impact of it sending her toppling to the ground.

The laughter above her made her flinch; it was loud, obnoxious and aggressive. And so, so mean. Veronica barely registered Heather Duke tauntingly asking “Aw, are you okay?” and Kurt (or Ram, she could barely tell them apart these days) saying “Dude, that was rough!” before she got off the ground, her legs still shaky, and sprinted away from the field.

Her ears were pounding, her head dizzy, and her legs trembling as she ran as far as away as she could, wiping her sweaty hands on her pants and already out of breath. Though she didn’t think it was from the sports she didn’t really do. She rounded the corner of the yard, trying her best to ignore judgmental glances, and ran until she was behind the gym. When she made it to the tree, finally, she crashed on the ground and buried her head in her knees, finally letting her sobs escape.

She wasn’t sure why she was crying. She was supposed to be used to this shit already (Oh, if only JD could hear her now); she was supposed to be used to the taunts, the obnoxious laughter, the objects flying in her face. Then why was she crying? Stop crying, Veronica, she tried telling herself, but that only seemed to make it worse. And the churning in her stomach and pounding in her ears and trembling of her whole body didn’t do much to stop her weeping, either. And her sudden inability to breathe certainly didn’t help.

She wasn’t sure how long she sat under that tree, head between her legs, kind of trying to disappear into her mountain of hair. It couldn’t have been over three minutes, maybe four max, but to Veronica it felt like an eternity of her heart pounding in her ribcage and her breathing labored and unstable. When she finally looked up, however long later, if only to see how many people she’d humiliated herself in front of, she only found JD. He was standing next to her, watching her carefully, a book clutched in his hand. He must’ve gone to the tree without them to read, Veronica thought.

When he caught her eyes, his own widened. He seemed scared; and Veronica would’ve tried regaining her composure if she wasn’t terrified of her own body right now, too. With streams of tears running down her face and everything in her insides screaming, she was probably quite a sight to behold.

Still, he came closer. Cautiously, he walked over to where she was under the tree and sat next to her. She wanted to bury her head back in her knees so badly, but she didn’t. Her vision was slightly darkening, anyway, so it’s not like she could see his face very well. She knew he was scared, though, that much was obvious.

“Nikki, are you okay?” he asked. She didn’t answer. “Yeah, okay, bad question.” She almost snorted at that; she tried to, actually, but the sound came out like another unsteady, hoarse breath, before turning into a fowl cough that made her flinch. She could tell the panic on JD’s face was increasing.

“Can you breathe?” he asked carefully. Once again, she didn’t say anything, but she shook her head. “Try to take a long breath, and hold it until I tell you to stop. Okay?” Veronica could only nod. She had no idea what he was doing, but then again, she was just about clueless herself. Maybe she should’ve listened to the school counselor when she taught her all those breathing methods.

JD instructed her to take a breath, and it was endlessly shaky, but she managed. She held it until he told her to let go, slowly. Then he did it again. And again. And she heard him muttering numbers under his breath; one, two, three four. He counted when she took a breath, counted when she held it, and counted when she let it out. Eventually, that’s what calmed her. She did the breathing thing, and her breaths were getting increasingly more stable, but eventually what made her heart slow and her body stop shaking and her nausea subside was listening to his calm, quiet counting. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four.

It took a few minutes, but he stopped telling her to breathe. She didn’t need him to; she was mostly back to normal, aside from her still sweaty palms and the familiar headache behind her eyes.

“I hate dodgeball.” She said softly. JD turned to her, but he didn’t say anything. So, she kept going. “I fell. In front of everyone. It was so embarrassing, I just…” she paused, taking another breath. One, two, three, four. “You were right. I shouldn’t have gone.”

JD shrugged. “What’s done is done.” He started messing around with his book, not looking at her. “Sorry I left you and Martha to the wolves.”

Veronica shrugged, her gesture softer than his. “What’s done is done.” He did look at her then, and he smiled. She smiled back.

“You know,” Veronica started, messing with the hem of her sweater, “I think I just had a panic attack.”

“See, and you didn’t even need the safe space.” JD said, a good-natured smirk on his face. “Fuck the grownups.”

“Yeah, fuck them.” Veronica agreed. JD’s smile widened.

“I don’t think they were wrong, though.” she said after a beat of silence. “I think I found my safe space, after all.”

JD turned to her. “Oh yeah? What is it?”

“You.” she said simply. He frowned.

“But I’m a person.” He reasoned. “Can your safe space be a person?”

“I don’t know.” Veronica shrugged. “You make me feel safe, so I just figured.” JD kept frowning at her, and she had to admit the whole thing made no sense to her, either.

“Then maybe you can be my safe person.” She settled eventually. “How’s that sound?”

“I’ll take it.” JD said, feigning calmness in a way that made Veronica’s eyes roll. Still, she didn’t resist when his arm went to wrap around her shoulder, holding her closer to him than she already was, her side resting against his own. She grumbled, but it was barely halfhearted. They hadn’t done this before, but she had to admit, it was nice.

It did, however, make her heart beat all fast again. But surprisingly, it wasn’t unpleasant. It felt safe.

Chapter Text

The first time Veronica saw JD cry, he was thirteen years old.

That might sound like a surprising thing; he’d seen her cry plenty of times, the reasons ranging all the way from her grandfather dying to the video store not having the movie she wanted to rent. But the thing was, JD was different than Veronica on the whole emotion front. She was easy to read, wore her heart on her sleeve. Her comically large eyes showed every emotion she was feeling, and it never seemed like she tried hiding it. JD, though, he was the complete opposite. He hid everything; every bad day, every lump in his throat. From his mom, and his teachers, and his Veronica.

Well, kind of. Because as hard as he tried, Veronica could always read him. He had no idea how, but every time he was going through anything, she always somehow knew. She never made a big deal out of it, but she told him jokes and went along with his schemes and bought him slushies (which he’d become practically addicted to in the past year), and he knew that she knew. He didn’t like that she did. He didn’t like the idea of Veronica feeling bad for him, feeling like she needed to help him. He didn’t like the idea of anyone pitying him, but especially her.

Like today, he knew she was feeling sorry for him. He barely felt sorry for himself; nothing happened. Nothing that he’d deemed that major, at least. He just got a letter.

A letter from his dad.

JD never heard from his dad much. Sure, there was the occasional happy birthday call that he tried his best to ignore (that never came on his actual birthday, anyway), or the times JD’s mom made him call to “check in” because she knew his dad’s business was close to flopping (once again) and he’d do it just to please her, but all in all, JD didn’t really talk to his dad.

He did see him, sometimes. In his own head. Sometimes, when he was trying to fall asleep, memories of Bud would show up in his mind. Memories of yelling he used to hear through his bedroom wall; of bottles smashing and guns fired in the backyard; of running into the bathroom when he heard footsteps louder and harsher than usual; of being caught inside said bathroom, of hands so much bigger than his own being so unforgiving with him he was sometimes scared he wouldn’t survive them, that he’d spend the rest of his days inside that said bathroom that failed to hide him.

On nights like that, when the memories showed up, JD would get out of bed as fast as he could. He’d sneak out his window and into the one of the house across the street, startling his best friend awake and laughing when she’d throw a pillow or a stuffed bunny at him. Then he’d talk to her about whatever, sit on her bed as she’d halfheartedly tell him to go before she’d burst out in her infectious giggles at one of his jokes. He’d climb out her window soon enough, not get much sleep, and drag her to the local 7/11 the next day after school. They’d get slushies, her usually cherry and him usually blue raspberry, and he’d start a game; see who can drink it faster. Or at least he’d say it’s a game. And he’d always win, while she’d be clutching her head and laughing and calling him a psychopath. And he’d have his own brain freeze, too, numbing and intense, but the pain in his temples would always be the thing pushing the memories away. Or freezing them away, he should say. Until next time.

Because the memories were only temporary, is what JD always tried to tell himself. They were old, and not real, and nothing to worry about, and he really should just get over them. Just like he should get over this whole letter thing.

It wasn’t even that big of a deal; yesterday, when Veronica was just leaving his house and he was walking her to the door, his mom pointed him to the pile of mail on the dining table and said a letter came for him. He frowned, since no letters ever came for him, and went to open it immediately. He felt Veronica leaning over his shoulder as he ripped the envelope open, and something about that made his heart feel all squirmy, the way it’s been doing a lot whenever she got close. It stilled soon enough, though, when he read the letter. Or invitation, he should say.

A wedding invitation.

You are cordially invited to celebrate the marriage of Bud Dean and Leslie Hunter, the invitation read. JD heard Veronica let out a small gasp behind him, but somehow the sound didn’t fully register in his mind. His fingers clenched around the paper, creasing its edges, and his brain was flooded again. All memories; of yelling and bullets and punching and hiding. All the memories that were somehow better at night, with the comforting darkness and no one around. Not his mom making dinner in the kitchen, not his Veronica standing behind him.

Right, Veronica.

He turned towards her, and the look in her eyes was so sympathetic it kind of made him want to die. He didn’t need her feeling sorry for him; not over this, not over anything. So, he cleared his throat. And he led her to the door. And he ignored her soft, quiet protest of “JD…”, and her soft, tentative question of “Are you okay?”. And he said goodbye and that he’ll see her tomorrow at school.

And when his mom asked about the letter, he said it was junk mail. Because it was; nightmare creating junk mail, maybe, but junk mail nonetheless.

For once, JD spent a sleepless night in his own room. But the next day, when Veronica came up to him after school and asked “Slushies?” with all the soft care in her voice to almost make him flinch, he couldn’t say no. So now they were sitting on the curb outside the 7/11, and JD was majorly winning in their fast drinking contest. Veronica was just cracking up, the straw barely clutched between her lips.

“How is your head not screaming?” she managed to ask him through her giggles, taking quick sips of her drink and recoiling every time she did. He just shrugged, making her laugh even harder.

“Done.” He announced a few seconds later, showing his empty cup to a cackling Veronica.

“Oh, come on!” she protested around a laugh. “I’m not even halfway through mine!”

“Guess you’re just weak, Sawyer.” JD taunted her. She kicked his foot, scuffed white sneakers bumping against his own bigger, black ones.

She took a sip of her drink, slow this time, glaring at him briefly when he chuckled. After a beat, though, she spoke again.

“J?” she said, voice unbearably careful like before. JD knew he wouldn’t like what was coming.

Still, he responded “Yeah?”

She stretched her legs out in front of her, watching them like she was contemplating something. They were getting longer, he noticed; she’d been rapidly catching up to him on the height front, wasn’t quite so tiny anymore. He hoped his own growth spurt would come soon, since the idea of Veronica being taller than him made him feel… off.

“Are you okay?” she asked eventually, soft.

“Yeah.” JD said quickly, wishing he had more of his slushie left. “Yeah, of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Veronica looked at him then, out of the corner of her eye. She looked like she wanted to respond to that, but she didn’t. “You’d tell me if you weren’t, though. Right?” she asked instead.

Something clenched in JD’s chest, and he almost wanted to sigh. He didn’t, though, and chose to focus on the numbing, freezing pain taking residence in his brain as he answered her. “Yeah.” He said, trying to sound convincing. “Of course.”

Then he leaned over and stole a sip of her drink, earning himself a punch to the shoulder and an animated scowl that made it easier not to focus on the pity in his best friend’s comically large eyes.

JD went home after they finished their slushies, laughing with Veronica all the way to his doorstep. She waved goodbye to him like she normally did, but gave him this meaningful I-Know-You’re-Not-Okay-But-I-Won’t-Say-Anything-Just-Know-That-I’m-Here kind of look that she always gave him when she knew he was going through something. He wanted to stop her, to tell her that he was fine and that it was just his dad’s wedding and that he hadn’t even seen his dad in years and that he doesn’t care, he can’t care, but she was inside her house before he could.

And when he walked into his own house, trying to forcefully will Veronica’s pitying look away from his mind, he was met with his mom sitting at the dining table and clutching a familiar white envelope. When she heard JD come in she looked up, her concerned look more apparent but not that much different than Veronica’s.

Dammit.

“Hey, mom.” JD said carefully, trying his best to look casual. He knew what was coming; questions. An interrogation where his mom was a detective with endless pity in her eyes. The thought alone made his stomach twist.

“Jason…” his mom started, her voice too gentle for his liking. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

JD shrugged, going for normal as he towed off his shoes and threw them by the doorstep. For once, his mom had nothing to say about that. “Because it’s not a big deal.”

“Of course it’s a big deal.” Amelia insisted, standing up in a way JD knew meant a hug was coming. He wasn’t in the mood, so he started moving towards the stairs and his mom seemed to take the hint. Still, she kept talking. “This is your dad, Jason. And he’s getting married to some woman you don’t even know, and that must be so hard for you.”

“But it’s not.” JD’s voice came out harsher than he meant it to, the words coming out of his throat before he could stop them. “I don’t care that the asshole’s getting married,” he continued, barely registering that his voice was growing louder and louder, “I just wonder how much of a dumbass that woman has to be to let Bud fucking Dean beat her up for the rest of her goddamn life!”

Silence. deafening, horrible silence that made JD want to cringe. Something in his mind half hoped that his mom would sober up and tell him to watch his language, that he’d say sure but not even think about it, and that it’ll all be normal again. That she’ll ignore the fact that he just called his own father an asshole and may have possibly revealed a whole new type of problem she wasn’t even aware of. But, of course, no such luck.

“What…” Amelia started, gaping at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish. If JD didn’t have a sudden unwelcome pain in his throat, he’d find it funny. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing, mom.” JD said quickly. He ran up the stairs, ignoring his mom calling after him. He shut the door to his room and locked it as loud as he could, knowing his mom would never disrespect his privacy.

The pain in his throat was strong no matter how hard he tried to swallow it down, and his fists were tightening at his sides and his jaw was clenching so hard it hurt, but he wasn’t going to cry. That’s what he swore to himself as he paced around the room. He wasn’t. This was his dad; his loser dad, with his failed business and inability to hold a relationship. But it was also his father, his strong father that made him feel helpless, that made him wish he could erase the existence of alcohol from the earth so he wouldn’t smell the foul scent of it on his father’s breath when he’d come home late and angry, when he’d find JD and yell at him for whatever and do stuff that no parent should do to their kid, stuff that were painful and that his mom never did. The memories thawed in JD’s brain, the freezing of the slushie from earlier now seemingly ineffective, but now they had a new layer; between his own whimpers and cries, he remembered hearing his mom scream through his bedroom wall. Begging no and please, and he could hear sobs from his mom’s throat and glass plates smashing and things slamming on the floor and smacks and punches and a window unlocking-

Wait.

JD whirled towards the other wall of his bedroom, towards the window, his legs shakier than he’d realized. That’s when he saw a blur of blue and flowers and frizzy hair stagger its way inside; Veronica, with her long dress swishing around her legs as she stumbled through his bedroom window. She got up as gracefully as she usually did (which is to say not at all) and gave him her signature bet-you-didn’t-see-me-coming grin, one that would normally make him laugh but right now he couldn’t focus on. Her grin faltered and was replaced with a concerned frown almost as quick as it appeared, though, when she saw JD’s face.

“JD?” she asked, her voice careful. She didn’t walk towards him, just stayed rooted by the window while he was on the other side of the room. “Is everything okay?”

He wanted to tell her yes. He wanted to tell her that he was fine, that she shouldn’t worry, that they could play a game or talk or do whatever it is she came here to do. He also wanted to tell her to get out. Wanted to yell at her to leave his room, that he didn’t want her to see him like this. There was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to do. He wanted to calm her concern, and he wanted to talk to the one person who might actually understand him, and he wanted her to go away and keep thinking that he was strong and unbreakable.

But then he caught her eyes, and he was done for.

He folded into himself completely; he didn’t fall on the floor, exactly, but he tripped backwards and landed on his bed with his legs bunched up. And then he sobbed; loud, and wet, and it sounded pathetically broken even to his own ears. He couldn’t see Veronica, but he could guess the look in her eyes; scared, probably, definitely uncomfortable. Maybe she was leaving, climbing out the window. Maybe she’ll pretend like she never saw this; it’ll only be for the best.

When JD felt the mattress dip a little from under him, he realized that Veronica wasn’t leaving. She was sitting by his side now. He expected her to be careful, to not know what to do; even he never knew what to do when he saw her cry. But to his surprise, there was confidence in her movement as she scooted closer to him on the bed. And even more confidence when she gently cradled his head in her small hands and brought it closer to her, her movements assertive but endlessly soft.

“JD…” he heard her say quietly, almost a whisper. And the sound of his name, infinitely gentle in her familiar voice, sent him folding again.

He let his head crash into her chest; he hadn’t hugged her in God knew how long, especially not like this, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. One of her hands left his head and went to wrap around his shoulder, holding him closer to her, while the other stayed in its place above his hair. JD’s own hands went to wrap around her waist, holding her tight; and for once, he didn’t care that it made him look weak. He’d gone this far, anyway, with the wet sobs still coming out of him and probably wetting the light blue fabric of her floral dress.

Veronica’s hand, the one still over his head, gently started running through his hair. Running through, then smoothing it down. He did that to himself, sometimes, when he was nervous, and he had to admit that it was oddly calming.

“Is this okay?” she murmured above him, the familiar uncertainty creeping its way into her voice almost being enough to make him laugh. He didn’t answer, really, but he scooted a little closer to her, and from the way her fingers kept running through his hair he gathered she took it as a yes. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling, her fingers in his hair; beyond strange, sure, but not unpleasant. Veronica’s fingers were small, and a little cold, but something about the movements felt grounding. It felt like every time she touched him; soft, and sweet, and oddly exhilarating in a way that sent his heart racing every time.

Not at first, though. At first, the gentle brushing and smoothing of her fingers through his dark hair was actually the thing that calmed him; he focused on the brushing, the gentle grazing of her cold fingers against his scalp (her hands were somehow always cold) and on her arm wrapped around him. She was still so much smaller than him, but being in her hug made him feel safe in a way only she could make him feel; sometimes with her words, sometimes with her laughter, and apparently sometimes with her touch.

His sobs subsided after a few minutes, but he was still holding onto her, head buried so low into her chest he was almost at her stomach. He knew his hair would be a mess later, same goes for that dress of hers, but he couldn’t let go of her. Not yet.

“JD.” She whispered to him when she finally heard him calm, not commenting on the way he still held onto her. “What happened?” he tensed under her, but she strengthened her grip on his shoulders and let her fingers smooth through his hair faster; still soft and gentle, until he relaxed a bit under her touch.

“I don’t care that he’s getting married.” JD mumbled eventually, voice muffled by her dress. “I just feel bad for that woman.” Veronica stayed silent, but the rhythm of her movements let him know that she was still there, she was just letting him talk. Maybe she was scared that if she’d interrupt he’d stop altogether; and honestly, that wouldn’t be at all farfetched. “I mean,” JD continued, his voice a bitter murmur, “What kind of absolute dumbass would marry Bud Dean? And let him hurt her for the rest of her pathetic life, vow at the alter to let him come home shitfaced and smash furniture and fire guns and yell at her…” he paused. He knew he could tell Veronica; sometimes he thought she knew. She was smart, sometimes infuriatingly so, and she could put two and two together. But she was just so pure. So sweet. He figured that maybe she couldn’t bring the idea to her head, the idea that a parent would do something to harm their own child. Still, if someone could understand, it was her.

So JD swallowed, the taste of tears salty in his mouth before he continued speaking, his murmur lower than before. “And fucking hit her.”

Veronica’s grip seemed to tighten around him even more, but her fingers stopped running through his hair. She stilled as she held onto him, and for a second he thought he’d scared her; that maybe she couldn’t understand, couldn’t put two and two together. Maybe she’d decided this was too messed up of a topic for her to deal with. But then she removed her hands from around him and instead took his head in them, softly lifting it up to her level, looking into his bloodshot eyes without an ounce of fear.

“You’re safe.” She told him, her voice just as grounding as her firm touch on his chin. “You’re safe, JD. He can’t hurt you. No one’s going to hurt you. And I know you’re scared, and I get it. I’ll never fully understand what that asshole put you through, and I know you hate remembering it, but I promise you. Jason Dean, you’re safe.”

He didn’t say anything for a beat. He just looked into her eyes; so sure, and promising, and directed at him like she would keep them there forever if he asked her to. But then a soft, barely-there smiled spread on his lips.

“You said asshole.” He whispered, his voice hoarse and gravelly. Veronica let out this soft laugh that he’d never heard her do before, and then she took his head and pulled it back down to her chest, this time both of her hands around his shoulders as his went to wrap around her waist.

And there it was; the exhilarating feeling that always came with her touch. The way her skin against his could send his heart racing and his stomach squirming, and right now her hold could send only one thought through his mind: I love you.

Because yes, he loved her. He loved Veronica Sawyer, his Veronica, the girl who wrestled with him over card games and shot witty insults at him and hid behind him during school assemblies and let him sneak into her room in the middle of the night and bought him slushies when he was upset and held him to her when he cried, reassured him and grounded him without an ounce of doubt in her brown eyes. He was in love with his best friend, and he was realizing it with her hands wrapped around his shoulders and his head buried into the fabric of her dress that was wet with his own tears.

And then he heard her murmur “Slushies?” from above him, with all the soft care in her voice to send his heart swelling.

God, he was so in love with her.

Chapter Text

The first time Veronica actually managed to keep a secret from JD, she was fourteen years old.

Veronica had never been good at keeping secrets. Well, from some people maybe, but not from JD. With JD, he’d know just the right buttons to push to get her to blurt whatever was on her mind. It didn’t help that usually when she tried hiding something from him it was a prank, or a joke, or a surprise, or just something that already made her giddy and excited enough that she’d be on the verge of a giggle-fit whenever she thought about it. And unfortunately, JD was annoyingly good at recognizing when she was near a giggle-fit and he knew exactly how to get her to one. Plus, when all else failed he resorted to tickling her, a form of torture that she hated to admit worked just as well now as it did when they were kids.

For example, Veronica never managed to keep her Halloween costumes a secret from him. She loved Halloween; it was her favorite holiday, so much so that she started preparing for it all the way in August, and her costumes over the years were always exceptionally detailed and have ranged from terrifying zombie with brains in her hair to Belle from Beauty and The Beast. And every year, she tried keeping it a secret. She wanted it to be a surprise; and she always managed to keep it from Martha. And from her dad (Her mom always helped with the costume, so she couldn’t exactly keep it from her). But every time they talked about Halloween and Veronica had that one specific grin on her face, JD would know that she was hiding an idea from him in seconds and it’d be out of her in twenty minutes tops.

This year, though, it was August and Veronica still had no idea what costume she wanted. It was driving her crazy; she’d have to start preparing soon enough, if she wanted her costume to be as good as last year’s (a vampire-ballerina. JD made fun of her. She won the town’s costume contest and refused to share her candy with him).

One hot afternoon in August, slushies in hand, she and JD were walking by what was the only thrift store in town. It was the place where Veronica usually managed to find the most crucial parts of her costumes. She stopped at the window as they were walking, trying to get a peek inside to see if she could find some inspiration. She knew she only had a few seconds before JD got impatient and dragged her away by the arm, and when he didn’t, she got kind of confused. She looked towards him, and saw him transfixed on something at the window. She couldn’t understand what, though. But then he asked if they could go inside, and who was she to turn down a trip to the thrift store while in a Halloween-costume crisis.

Once they were inside, JD wordlessly hurried towards a specific section of the store, leaving a puzzled yet endlessly curious Veronica to trail behind him. She followed him all the way to the winter clothing section now at the back of the store, and watched questioningly as he looked around for the thing that fascinated him in the window. A victorious expression crossed his face a few seconds later, and he walked over to one of the hangers on the wall to pull something off of it. When he held it out, Veronica’s eyes widened.

“Oh no.” she said, entirely serious, looking at the piece of clothing in JD’s hands like it had personally harmed her.

“Oh yes.” JD parroted her, proudly inspecting the coat he was holding.

A trench coat. Who even wore trench coats? Veronica surely didn’t know anyone who was under the age of sixty and not a fictional serial killer who did. Plus, this coat was floor-length and faded black and had far too many pockets to not have belonged to a mafia associate in one of its former lives.

“JD, you can’t buy a trench coat.” Veronica stated, watching as JD examined the coat proudly. “We’re already getting bullied.”

“You’re getting bullied.” JD said, not batting an eye at her blatant dismissal of his excitement. They both knew he was going to do whatever he wanted, anyway. “I’m going to be wearing this awesome coat, and no one’s going to come anywhere near me.”

“That includes me, you know.” Veronica said, crossing her arm defiantly.

“No it doesn’t.” JD dismissed her without looking up, now slipping his arms into the sleeves of the old coat.

“It’s August.” Veronica continued protesting, ignoring his admittedly true remark. “What on earth are you going to do with a trench coat in August? You’ll boil alive.”

“Well, beauty is pain.” JD said sarcastically, making his way to one of the mirrors in the further wall. Veronica followed him, furrowing her eyebrows as she took in the sight of him in the coat.

She had to admit, he didn’t look that bad in it. It was too big, but not in a bad way. The color of it and the way it wrapped around him in some kind of shield only added to his usual shadowy appearance. It made him look a little taller with the way it hovered barely an inch off the floor, and Veronica briefly considered stepping on it to see if he’d slip. Yes, she knew it was a little mean, but he did that to her every time she wore a dress and she didn’t like letting him get away with things.

All thoughts of payback slowly left her mind, though, as she kept watching him. The more she looked at him in that stupid trench coat, Veronica had to admit; JD looked good. While the coat was ridiculously oversized, it definitely left less of his shape to the imagination than his usual hoodies did, and Veronica couldn’t help noticing that puberty was treating him well. While it made her look like a too-tall-for-the-rest-of-her-size stick (she was 5’6 now and still growing, by some weird turn of events) with a frizzy mountain of not-straight, not-curly hair and ugly braces on her teeth, it made JD look very fittingly tall (Still taller than her, because of course she couldn’t get close to his height without him jumping six inches), with dark hair that was just the right amount of messy and dark, smooth skin that Veronica had always been jealous of, but now it made her feel… something else. Something she couldn’t quite place, and wasn’t sure she wanted to.

“See, even you’re checking me out.” JD said smugly, having now turned away from the mirror to smirk at her.

“What?” Veronica exclaimed, snapping out of her trance. “I wasn’t- I wasn’t checking you out, I was judging you.” she tried regaining her composure, a bit weirded out by just how flustered his comment had made her.

“Sure you were, Sawyer.” JD mocked, the annoyingly arrogant look on his face making Veronica flip him off. She looked around the room, something in her needing to not look at him for a second, when her eyes fell on something hung up in one of the racks. It was a shade of faded black, with a fabric that looked to Veronica like no one under the age of sixty and not a fictional serial killer would wear.

“You know, I think I’m going to make this my new look.” JD stated, back to watching himself in the mirror.

“Uh-huh.” Veronica replied distractedly. An idea was brewing in her mind, and not to toot her own horn, but it was a good one. Much better than stepping on JD’s coat to make him trip.

She did do that when they left the store, but that’s beside the point.

August and September came and went, and soon it was October. Veronica slaved away on her Halloween costume, keeping it a full secret this time. She didn’t tell her parents, since she knew they wouldn’t be on board, and she didn’t tell Martha (Well, she did tell her it would incredible and Martha trusted her blindly on that), and she didn’t tell JD.

Yes, Veronica managed to keep her costume a secret from JD. It was too good to tell; and even with her terrible track record, Veronica swore to herself that she had to try. She kept telling him that she had no ideas, but by the time October rolled around he figured out she was lying and made it his life’s mission to get the truth out of her.

One day, a mere three weeks before Halloween, Veronica was peacefully reading on her bed when she heard her window unlock. She wasn’t surprised, but she didn’t get up to help JD and watched him clamber his way in. He did manage to land rather gracefully on both feet, which pissed her off to no end. How did he always do that?

“Pumpkin.” JD announced as he walked further into the room. Veronica placed a bookmark in her book and readjusted on the bed so he’d have room to sit.

“What?”

“That’s your Halloween costume. A pumpkin.” JD insisted as he sat down next to her, and Veronica couldn’t help the giddy grin on her face and the fluttery excitement in her stomach when he mentioned the costume.

“What makes you think that?” she asked, itching to prove him wrong. It wasn’t often that she was driving him crazy and not the other way around, and she was loving it.

“Well, you kept saying you had no ideas, so that must’ve meant you had to resort to asking your mom.” JD explained his theory confidently. “And what other reason could you have to hide it from me other than it being completely stupid and cliché. Veronica Sawyer, the self-proclaimed queen of Halloween wearing a pumpkin costume? You must be so embarrassed. Plus, when you and Martha went to the thrift store last week I saw that you bought that ugly orange sweater, and thus, pumpkin.” JD ended with a flourish of his arms, clearly proud of his well thought out theory.

Which made it all the more satisfying for Veronica when she said “Nope.”

JD blinked at her. “Nope?”

“My Halloween costume’s not a pumpkin.” She repeated, not even bothering to hide her pride in tricking him. “And that sweater is adorable, by the way. It has a cat on it.”

“It’s disgusting and I hate you.” JD sulked, leaning his head on the wall behind Veronica’s bed. He took a moment to glare at nothing in particular before turning back to her. “I mean Jesus, Nikki, it’s neon orange.”

“I’m not taking fashion advice from you. You look like a school shooter.” Veronica retorted. JD really had made the trench coat his new look; he also added a dark flannel he always wore under it, and black jeans, and his usual scuffed shoes. It’s a good thing they lived in Ohio, or he would’ve melted alive weeks ago.

He ignored her comment. “Tell me!” he whined instead, and Veronica almost laughed. He was beyond desperate, if he was resorting to the childish-whine-puppy-eyes method. Still, she was unaffected; she invented the whiny puppy eyes.

“No!” she whined back, her tone mocking his. It was very much different, though, what with the smirk added to her voice.

“I will tickle you.” JD threatened, whiny puppy eyes now gone. And that’s how she knew he was really, really, truly desperate. And she knew that this time, she wasn’t going to crack.

And she didn’t.

She didn’t crack, not even when his fingers were digging into her ribs and her stomach and she kicked and flailed and laughed like a maniac. She screamed at him to let her go, squealing and cackling and squirming under his arms, but every time he said that he’d free her if she told him the costume, she quieted. He finally let her go a few minutes later, his attempts having failed, and she was grinning proudly as she sat up, despite the mess of her hair and pain in her sides. Something in her was reveling in keeping this from him; it was exciting, having the upper hand for once. Being in control of him, even if it was something as small as this.

Plus, she knew his face would be priceless when he found out.

JD didn’t give up, but Veronica stood her ground impressively for the rest of the month. When the 31st finally came around, she woke up extra early to get ready. They were going to be wearing costumes at school, like they did every year, and she had to make sure hers looked extra good this time. She and JD were going to be walking to school together like they did every day, and whenever Veronica thought of him seeing her like this when she opened her door she had to suppress a giddy squeal. She made sure every aspect of her costume would look as perfect as possible, so much so that when her mom yelled out “Veronica! JD’s here!” she was still putting her shoes on. She quickly finished tying them and hauled her bag over her shoulder, racing downstairs. JD, who was clad in a surprisingly detailed vampire costume, had let himself inside the house like usual and he was standing in front of the stairs as she descended, unable to contain the grin on her face.

His jaw practically dropped when he took her in. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me.” He said bitterly.

Because Veronica was dressed like him.

For starters, she was wearing a trench coat, almost identical to JD’s signature one. It was just a tad too big for her and a similar shade of black, the one that caught her eye that day at the thrift store. She borrowed one of her dad’s flannels, and made sure to pin it at the back so it wouldn’t ridiculously dwarf her. She wore a black t-shirt underneath everything, of course, a pair of black jeans and her only black sneakers. She even tied her hair into a ponytail so it’ll look shorter and made sure to have some of it cover her eyes, the way JD’s hair sometimes did. It was impressive, how much like him she looked. Well, shorter and paler and with a different face and a different body, but the message was clear as day.

“What do you say?” Veronica twirled a little, the fabric of the coat swishing around her body as she did. “You like it?”

“You little piece of shit.” JD muttered, taking her in with shock written all over his face.

And there it came; the fit of giggles. She was practically doubled over, holding the railing of the stairs as unstoppable giggles bubbled out of her. She didn’t even care how weird she sounded, the look on JD’s face was enough to take any feeling of insecurity out of her and replace it with satisfied, slightly smug joy. And when she finally looked up, JD was smiling at her. It seemed beyond reluctant, but her laugh had made him smile. And that made a whole other type of giddiness enter heart, making it pitter-patter in a surprisingly familiar way.

She didn’t have much time to dwell on it, though, because soon her mom entered from the kitchen.

“Let me see the costume!” she said excitedly, walking towards Veronica. Her eyebrows furrowed when she saw her grinning, giggle-drunk daughter and the outfit she was clad in.

“You like it?” Veronica asked joyfully, directing her question and the resulting twirl at her mom. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see JD shaking his head.

“Are you dressed like…” Carrie trailed off, looking at JD as if to complete her question. Veronica nodded proudly.

“Veronica, that’s not very nice.” Her mom scolded, a slightly confused frown between her eyebrows. Veronica’s face fell, something twisting in her chest. She knew her mom wouldn’t exactly be on board with her pulling this kind of prank; she still barged into her room in concern whenever she heard screaming or cursing, even if it was followed by elated laughter. But Veronica hoped that she’d at the very least appreciate the humor.

“I don’t mind it, Mrs. Sawyer.” JD said casually. Veronica looked towards him with a grateful smile, and he made sure Carrie’s eyes were still on her before he flipped her off. Veronica started giggling again, and Carrie’s frown deepened.

“If you say so.” She said, giving Veronica a we’ll-talk-about-this-later kind of look. “You guys should head out, you’ll be late.”

Veronica practically skipped next to JD on their way to school, the uncomfortable feeling after her mom’s comments leaving her whenever JD shook his head or tutted or flipped her off or hissed halfhearted curses at her under his breath.

“Come on, you have to admit, this was genius.” Veronica said at some point, nudging at JD’s rib with her elbow through the cape of his admittedly very well put together vampire costume.

“I will admit no such thing.” JD insisted, making Veronica huff despite the giant grin refusing to leave her face. “Where did you even get a trench coat, by the way?”

“At the thrift store.” Veronica explained proudly. “Back in August, when you bought yours.”

“Hold on,” JD turned to her, incredulous. “You’ve been keeping this from me since August?” Veronica nodded smugly, and JD’s eyebrows raised. “Damn, Sawyer. You’re getting better at this.”

Veronica couldn’t help but giggle again. “I know!” JD rolled his eyes and knocked his shoulder against hers.

“People are going to judge us, you know.” He said after a relatively silent beat. “This is a very weird costume.”

“I don’t care.” Veronica shrugged. And here’s the thing; she actually didn’t.

Her terrible fear of anything social and crippling anxiety of being judged have been getting miraculously better this past year; so much so, in fact, that she wasn’t scared to talk to cashiers and started raising her hand in class. Everyone now looked down on her for being too smart, and she’d heard several people call her a teacher’s pet in the past few months, but she could look past it. And when she couldn’t, and she’d lock herself up in some room shaking and crying, JD would always find her. And he’d say “fuck them”, every single time. And that was Veronica’s mindset when she put this costume together; fuck them.

And right now, when she saw JD’s grin, she had a feeling he knew that.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders as they walked, something that he’d started doing recently. Veronica liked it, even though she’d never tell him; he was always so warm, and his arm around her made something pleasant flutter in her stomach.

“It’s a good costume.” He murmured softly, his face closer to her ear than she’d realized. The fluttering in her stomach got more intense, and she turned her head towards JD’s, now needing something to settle her down.

JD’s face was so close to hers now. Had he leaned in? His dark were eyes looking into her own, and Veronica didn’t want to look away. They’ve been this close before, she didn’t understand why the fluttering in her stomach was feeling like a swarm of eager butterflies, but she couldn’t bring herself to look away.

She could feel his breath on her cheek, and when her eyes briefly darted towards his lips, a mental image of crashing her own against them startled her so badly that she turned away from him abruptly. Their heads almost bumped together in her sudden movement, and she chose to ignore his confused frown and look down intently at her black shoes.

Still, the thought of kissing him didn’t leave her mind; not when they reached the school, not for the rest of the day, not for the rest of the week. Not for a long, long while.

Well, there’s another secret she’d have to keep.

Chapter Text

The first time JD and Veronica kissed, he was fifteen years old.

He had to admit, he’d thought about kissing her before. He was in love with her; that much he’d realized a while ago, and while not telling her was tormenting him, he knew Veronica would never want him that way. He couldn’t ruin things with a stupid love confession, not with her; what they had was too important to screw up. They were each other’s safe spaces, each other’s favorite people, and they knew each other better than anyone else.

Which is why when Veronica climbed through his window one random Saturday afternoon, still clad in her pajamas, and didn’t even flinch or glare when she toppled to the ground like she usually did (She was much clumsier than she cared to admit, especially now with her longer limbs, and JD found it beyond amusing), she didn’t even have to speak before JD asked “What’s got you in such a good mood?”

Veronica beamed up at him from the floor. “I have a date for homecoming!” she announced, standing up and going to flop on the bed next to him with a dreamy kind of smile on her face.

“You do?” JD asked, trying his best not to sound disappointed.

JD didn’t really do homecoming. Or any school dances, if he was being honest. Up until last year Veronica wasn’t a big fan of them, either, but when Martha dragged her to the fall formal she’d gotten hooked. He’d made fun of the both of them for it, but they’d ignored it and he couldn’t blame them. He did love seeing Veronica happy, and he probably wouldn’t have gone to homecoming with her even if she asked (Between his utter disdain of tuxedos and the way his heart would undoubtedly combust if he danced with her, it was a disaster waiting to happen), but thinking about her going with another guy she liked made him feel jealous. He hated it, but it was the truth; the thought of Veronica being interested in someone else, despite him knowing that she’ll never be interested in him, made disgusting jealousy burrow deep in his stomach and make him a little queasy.

Though that might’ve been because he’d had three slushies today.

“Who is it?” JD asked now, watching as Veronica leaned on the wall behind the bed and stared up at the ceiling like an overdramatic romcom heroine.

“Dave Zanders.” Veronica sighed, and JD recognized the smile on her face as the one she always got when she tried to contain her joy but just couldn’t.

“Zanders?” JD asked, trying his best not to sound skeptical. It clearly didn’t work, though, because Veronica turned to him with a frown.

“Yeah.” She nodded. “Anything wrong with that?” she was getting defensive, so clearly he’d come off much more doubtful than he’d meant.

“No, nothing.” he hurried to correct. He hated when she was mad at him; ever since they were kids, Veronica being mad at him was just about the worst scenario JD could fathom. “Just… he’s a football player, right?”

Veronica nodded, her excitement back. “And he’s popular, too.” She added happily. “And he asked me to homecoming, JD!”

JD knew who Dave Zanders was. He was one of the popular guys (He had to be, if he was on the football team) and tended to treat girls like complete trash. Even someone as aloof as JD knew that Dave Zanders had a new victim girl every week, and he’d use them and break their heart. The thought of him doing that to Veronica, using her and then dumping her for some other girl, made JD’s blood boil.

But he didn’t say anything, because his Veronica (or not so his, anymore, he supposed) was sitting crisscrossed on his bed and babbling on about dresses, and he loved seeing her happy.

As the next week went by, JD noticed that Veronica acted very different when she had a crush. She was even flightier and clumsier than usual (Which was saying a lot), her uniquely loud laughter was almost entirely replaced with dreamy, soft, kind of annoying giggles, her usually witty and sarcastically hilarious comments which he loved were cut to a minimum, and she’d constantly be pulling Martha off to hushed, giggly conversations with a giddy smile on her face. JD thought she sensed his reluctance to talk about her newfound crush on Dave Zanders, as much as he tried to hide it; still, she told him highlights, like how they passed notes during French class and that one time he said her dress looked nice, the short dress she wore just for him. JD had always liked every outfit she wore, long dresses and ratty jeans and funky scarves and all, but he didn’t tell her that. He had to keep reminding himself that she was happy, and that was a good thing.

Veronica was a ball of dreamy sighs and flighty giggles for days, which made it incredibly confusing when on the Friday that marked a week before homecoming she sat at her, Martha and JD’s usual lunch table with a solemn expression on her face and her eyes swollen, not touching her food. What made it even weirder was that on Fridays she had French right before lunch, and usually she’d be just about bouncing down the halls after French. JD and Martha immediately exchanged a look when Veronica sat at her usual spot; they could tell something was wrong, and JD had a sneaking suspicion he knew what it was.

“Ronnie, are you okay?” Martha asked gently before JD could, carefully eyeing a gloomy Veronica from across the table. “You seem sad.”

Veronica faltered shortly, messing with her hands. “It’s Dave.” She muttered eventually, her voice low and hoarse. She sounded like she’d been crying; JD wondered if she’d skipped class to do so. “He doesn’t want to go to homecoming with me anymore. He, um, he asked Ashley from dance club instead.”

Oh, that dick.

JD felt himself get angry, felt his fists clench at his sides. How could that absolute piece of shit do that to her? To his sweet Veronica? He could’ve just left her alone; she didn’t deserve to be one of his stupid achievements. She was way too good for that, and JD hated that Dave Zanders had made his best friend cry. He briefly considered finding that Zanders guy and giving him all the punches he deserved, but one look at Veronica’s dejected face settled him down. She hated when he got into fights.

Still, he couldn’t help hissing “That fucking asshole” a little louder than he intended. Veronica half-looked at him from her spot at his right side with an expression he dared to call grateful, though it was still mostly miserable.

“Don’t worry.” Martha hurried to comfort Veronica, forever sweet to a fault, grabbing her hand from where it rested on the table. “We’ll both go with you. It’ll be fun! Right, JD?”

JD wasn’t sure how to answer that. He wanted to comfort Veronica, to make it better; he hated when she was sad. But he didn’t think he could go to homecoming with her. See her in a dress that will possibly make her more gorgeous than she already was, watch as she inevitably looked around for Dave and Ashley all night with a wistful look (he’d learned that Veronica was quite the drama queen when she had a crush), maybe even dance with her… he wouldn’t be able to take it. And he refused to let his feelings slip in front of her; it would ruin everything. His best friend’s tendency to overthink seemed to have rubbed off on him, ironically enough.

Veronica seemed a little less glum than before, maybe having cheered up at the suggestion or maybe trying to look happy for Martha’s sake, but her face fell even further when JD eventually shook his head.

“I don’t really like homecoming.” He said, trying to look relaxed and not like watching Veronica’s face fall made him feel queasy. “But you guys go, you’ll have fun.” He hurried to add.

Martha, who’d briefly had a cartoonish frown on her face, quickly gave a squeeze at Veronica’s hand. “Yeah, we can make it a girls’ night!” she said eagerly, eyes kind behind her pink glasses.

Veronica smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Sure. Yeah. Let’s go together.” She squeezed Martha’s hand back, and JD chose to ignore the way she glanced in his direction.

The notion of going to homecoming with Martha seemed to cheer Veronica up, and the two discussed their outfits and hair all week long. JD knew better than to tease them about it; when Veronica and Martha took something seriously they took it seriously, and he knew mocking them would somehow result in Veronica shoving his head into a locker. Or breaking into his house to murder the hamster his mom gave him for his birthday last year (he named is Slushie, because of course he did). And he loved that hamster.

So, he was subjected to five days of lunches at school dedicated to dress chat and being asked for opinions he knew nothing about. He was half sure they were asking him what color looked best on them or if their hair looked better up just to mess with him; Veronica was messing with him, that’s for sure, he could tell by that uncontained grin on her face. Martha was usually too sweet for that stuff, so it was a fifty-fifty chance.

By Thursday, it seemed that Veronica was fully cheered up; even excited. She had her dress and knew just how she’d do her hair and she didn’t appear the slightest bit depressed at the whole Dave Zanders thing. Which was good, because the guy was seriously an asshole in JD’s opinion. He even told Veronica that he’d beat him up if she asked him to. She rolled her eyes and told him she wasn’t some damsel in distress, though she didn’t seem entirely opposed to the idea.

Veronica’s generally joyful mood all week was the reason JD got very confused when on Thursday afternoon he climbed up to her window when he got bored to find her curled up into a ball on her bed, hands hugging her knees and her head buried in them. He knocked on the window carefully, giving her a chance to ignore him despite how badly he wanted to know what was wrong, and when Veronica’s head shot up her face was red and swollen. Still, she got up and went to let him in.

“Hey.” She greeted weakly, clearing her throat and sniffling when her voice came out croaky. JD frowned; something was clearly wrong.

“You okay?” he asked carefully as he entered her room, closing the window behind him. He placed a cautious hand on her shoulder and she seemed to relax into it. He couldn’t help but feel selfishly happy that he had that effect on her.

“Yeah, it’s nothing.” she said unconvincingly. He gave her a clearly disbelieving look and she sighed, slipping away from his hand as she went to sit on her bed.

“Just…” she started, sniffling again. For the second time in far too little days, at least in JD’s opinion, it was clear she’d been crying. “Martha just called.” She said eventually, watching JD as he came to sit next to her but her eyes faraway enough to let him know she wasn’t actually focused on him. “She’s sick. Really sick; some bad flue or something. She has a fever.”

“Does that mean she can’t go to homecoming?” JD asked, although he already knew the answer.

Veronica nodded glumly, messing with her hands. “And I know it’s dumb to be sad about this, and kind of selfish,” she continued, intently watching her fingers, “but I was getting kind of excited to go and I already bought this dress and it’s just… it sucks.” She admitted eventually, clearing her throat when she got a little choked up.

JD placed his hand back on her shoulder, and she leaned into it like before. Like always. He let out a small sigh, thankfully not loud enough for her to hear, before he spoke.

“How about I go with you?” he offered. It was a disaster waiting to happen, he stood by that; but it was worth it to see Veronica’s tear stained face light up.

“Wait, seriously?” she asked eagerly. He nodded, and she let out what sounded almost like a suppressed squeal, seemingly unable to control her excitement. She threw her arms around his waist in an awkward sitting down hug, and it made JD’s heart start beating in a familiar way.

She pulled away far quicker than he’d have liked her to, looking up at him carefully. “Are you sure you want to go, though?” she asked hesitantly. “I know you hate these things, and I promise I’ll be fine.” She sounded so unconvincing he was sure she was doubting herself, too.

He wasn’t sure he wanted to go. Actually, he was one hundred percent sure he didn’t, and that it would end in disaster, and that he hated tuxedos with the burning passion of a thousand suns. Still, he took a look at Veronica’s face, and she looked like she was trying not to look too hopeful, and he loved seeing her happy. So, he nodded again.

“I’m sure, Nikki.” He said, and smiled when she threw her arms around him once again. His overthinking could wait.

Acquiring a tux the day before homecoming was quite the task; still, after JD told his mom the situation, she was more than willing to help. They ended up renting him a tux which he paired with his one and only button up shirt; it was a shade of gray so dark it was almost black, and the rented suit was an actual black, so JD didn’t hate the way he looked too badly when he got ready for homecoming on Friday. He was comfortably similar to his usual shadowy look. Well, minus his beloved trench coat.

He told Veronica he’d knock on her door when he was ready, and as he walked the short distance to her house he couldn’t help but wonder what dress she’d bought. Was it short or long? Sparkly on matte? Blue or…

Well, that he didn’t really have to wonder. He was almost entirely certain that the dress was blue.

When he knocked on her door, adjusting the uncomfortable jacket of his suit, her dad opened. He told him that Veronica was still getting ready, and while he wasn’t too eager to make it to homecoming, he couldn’t resist yelling “Veronica! Get your ass down here! Your hair is going to look bad either way!” in the general direction of the second floor. Leonard Sawyer laughed shortly at that, and JD was relived; he’d always had more of a sense of humor than Carrie.

“I’m coming!” Veronica yelled from her room, and he could hear she was slightly out of breath. He wondered why, but then again, he knew nothing about girl fashion.

JD heard a surprisingly violent clicking of heels against the floor and soon Veronica descended down the stairs, almost stumbling in her shoes, and JD had to clench his jaw so it wouldn’t drop.

She was beautiful.

Granted, she was always beautiful, but now she was positively stunning. Breathtaking. The dress she was wearing was, in fact, a shade of dark blue; it wasn’t too long, came up to right under her knees. It was sparkly in a way that stood out against her soft, pale skin, in a way that JD appreciated, and was quite simple other than the little built-in belt hugging her waist. Or maybe it was a sash? Ribbon? JD had no idea, but he knew that the little silver-colored stars it was made of made the shine in Veronica’s eyes look even brighter than usual. Her too-long hair was kept down, flowing past her shoulders, but she must’ve done something to style it because it didn’t look nearly as messy as usual. JD couldn’t help but gawk at her; she was gorgeous. Striking. Dazzling.

He was so fucked.

“I know, I know, I look pretty dumb.” Veronica said self-consciously, still rooted to the stairs and holding onto the railing. JD was too busy willing his brain to stop sending electric bolts all through his body to wonder why. “I just liked the stars, I guess.”

“Yeah.” JD replied distractedly. “So dumb.” Veronica scoffed at him.

She tried going down the stairs, but tripped almost immediately and barely stopped herself from face-planting on the ground by grabbing the railing for dear life. JD quickly understood why; the heels she was wearing, as blue as her dress, were thin and high and definitely not easy to walk in. Veronica looked at him apologetically with the cutest flush spreading on her cheeks.

“I’m not used to these.” She explained, gesturing towards the offending shoes with her head.

Even in his still slightly awestruck state, JD couldn’t help but smirk.

“Clearly.” He said, sarcasm dripping off his voice. She tried flipping him off, but the sudden movement almost made her trip again.

They left the house a little bit later, after Carrie insisted they take a bunch of photos JD just knew his own mom would somehow acquire and unknowingly torture him with (or knowingly; it was hard to know with Amelia). Still, he didn’t mind it as much as he usually did; Veronica deserved to be fussed over when she looked like that, and he reveled in the little laughs she let out when he made a face at the camera. They were nothing like the airy giggles Dave Zanders had elicited, and JD was actually happy about that. Her real laughter was so much better, anyway, especially directed at him.

He assumed she’d make fun of him about the tux, and after the last weird two weeks he’d been missing her witty insults, but when he asked her what she’d thought of it she bashfully looked away from him and muttered that it looked nice. Weird, but maybe she wasn’t back to herself yet. It’s not like he could blame her; the sight of her in that dress was enough to wash any appearance related insults from his brain for the next month. And he’d been wrong; her hair did look good.

When they finally made it to Westerberg High, Veronica was already hissing curses at the entire high heels industry under her breath, and JD found it beyond amusing. Still, he couldn’t help but flinch when he walked into the gym, Veronica following closely behind him since he’d walked slow enough that she’d catch up and fast enough that he’d have something to tease her about.

The gym was packed; teenagers were everywhere, dancing and talking and laughing in groups. The decorations were mediocre at best, clearly under the practically nonexistent budget, and the loud speakers were playing some pop song JD couldn’t stand. He looked towards Veronica, who’d made her way to his side, with his nose wrinkled. He didn’t have to bend his head as much as usual, he noticed; the heels made her a good few inches closer to his height.

“Is this what it’s always like?” he asked her, watching as she looked around the poorly decorated room.

She shrugged. “Pretty much.” She looked over at him, apology in her eyes. “You don’t have to do this, you know. We can go.”

He shook his head. He wanted to leave this place so, so badly, but he knew she wanted to stay. And besides, he couldn’t let that dress of hers go to waste. It’d be such a shame, especially since she was the best looking one here, at least in his opinion.

“I’ll be fine.” He assured her, watching with relief as her unsure look was replaced with a smile. He looked away from her, glancing around the room once again, when a specific movement caught his eye. He smirked.

“Plus, I think somebody’s spiking the punch, so this might be more interesting than I thought.” He said. Veronica looked around the room, and her eyes fell on the snack table, where Kurt Kelly was pouring something out of a shiny silver flask and into the punch bowl while Ram Sweeny was laughing obnoxiously behind him. Veronica turned back to JD, her eyes wide.

“How are they not getting caught?” she asked, the hush of her voice letting him know she found the whole thing exciting. So, he shrugged.

“Beats me.” He said simply, before he smirked at her. “Want to try it?”

She bit her lower lip in thought for a moment, but then nodded. Her eyes were even shinier than her dress as she followed JD to the snack table and watched as he poured both of them glasses of punch. She downed hers in two seconds flat, before her face contorted into disgust.

“Definitely spiked.” She rasped. JD laughed, taking a sip of his own drink, and Veronica broke into a fit of giggles. Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as he thought.

They didn’t do much during the dance. Talked amongst themselves, mostly, with Veronica making fun of the Heathers’ over the top outfits and JD watching her in admiration. The spiked punch was making it harder to hide. They didn’t dance; JD certainly didn’t want to, and Veronica claimed her feet felt like they were being stabbed with needles, so they mostly hung around and laughed every time they took a sip of the pink punch.

They drank too much, that was beyond obvious. They didn’t drink a lot, but the two cups they did drink were more than enough to get them noticeably tipsy. JD had only ever drunk with his mom (one of the perks of having a chill single parent is that they teach you how to be a teenager), and Veronica had never even drunk before other than the odd sip of wine her dad snuck her at restaurants, so both their alcohol tolerances were pretty much nonexistent.

They decided to leave after two or so hours, seeing as they had no reason to stick around and the music was giving JD a headache. They didn’t want to go home just yet; Veronica’s curfew had been extended especially for the dance, and she wanted to use it. So she and JD ended up at the local 7/11 just a tad after ten thirty at night, sipping slushies and sharing a big bag of pretzels while laughing about nothing. Veronica had taken off her heels on their way after almost falling on her face for the nth time, spitefully muttering something about feminism and double-standards, and opted for half-stumbling on their walk to the convenience store (she really could not hold her liquor. Or punch, he should say). The heels were resting in her lap as she and JD sat on the curb outside the store, watching the quiet streets of Sherwood at night.

“I hope Martha’s feeling better.” Veronica said at some point, looking up at the stars she loved so much. She took a sip of her lime flavored drink. “She must be pretty bummed.”

JD looked at Veronica out of the corner of his eye, his own half-frozen grape slushie in his hands. He took a handful of pretzels out of the open bag lying next to them before he spoke. “I don’t get why you guys like these dances.” He confessed, briefly considering he might’ve offended her but continuing nonetheless. “They’re so boring.”

Veronica shrugged. “They’re fun if you’re with the right people.” She said simply, taking another sip of her slushie. She then turned to JD.

“I don’t think I would’ve had this much fun if I’d went with Dave, you know.” She said softly, her big eyes a little glassy as they looked into his.

“I know.” He stated. “Dave sucks.”

“He does.” Veronica laughed. She sobered up a few seconds later (well, not literally, but close enough to it) and looked down at the heels resting in her lap. JD grabbed one and playfully bonked her on the head with it, not really sure what he was doing but reveling in the clearly fake glare she gave him. The glare quickly died out, though, and now she was just staring at him, her look a little dazed.

“It’s a shame you don’t go to these things.” She said eventually, still watching him. He couldn’t look away from her as she spoke. “You don’t look as bad in a tux.”

“Gee, thanks.” He replied, his sarcasm barely halfhearted. He waited a beat, scooting just the slightest bit closer to her on the sidewalk. “You don’t look too bad yourself, you know.” She didn’t answer him; not with words. Instead, she moved so she was sitting closer to him on the curb, her pretty dress rubbing against the pavement as she did.

They were much closer now, her bare leg resting against his own. She waited a beat and moved a little closer; or maybe he did, it was hard to tell, but now their shoulders were touching. Hers was bare and his was still clad in the uncomfortable suit jacket, but even the thought of Veronica’s skin against his almost made JD shiver. He was looking down at their touching knees until now, trying to stop himself from looking up, but the laughably small amount of alcohol was clouding his brain enough that he did look up, to find that Veronica was already looking at him.

Her big, doe eyes were smart and thoughtful as they looked into his own; dazed with alcohol and shiny with sugar, but more serious than he’d ever seen them. They were such an addictive brown color, JD couldn’t help but notice; warm and clever and shimmering, just like Veronica herself. Enchanting, almost. He couldn’t look away, but it seemed like she couldn’t, either.

She did look away at some point, if only for her gaze to flicker downwards towards his lips. He instinctively followed her movements, always trusting her blindly, and he looked down at her own lips. The light lipstick she wore earlier was gone now, wiped away by the punch and the slushie, and yet her lips were cherry pink in a way that stood out against her pale skin. A way that pulled JD towards them; closer, and closer, and before either of them knew it, he was kissing her.

And she was kissing him back.

JD was kissing Veronica, and Veronica was kissing him back; her hands had raised to his shoulders, splaying there somewhat awkwardly, but JD didn’t mind. He loved every way she touched him. His own hands were holding her waist, right under her star belt. Their legs were much more than touching now; they were practically tangled together, much like their lips, who were crashed against each other clumsily. She tasted like slushie, was the first thing JD noticed, and there was a little bit of pretzel-salt on her lips. He did taste something different on her lips, something warm and sweet and enchanting, just like her. JD couldn’t believe it; he was kissing Veronica, and Veronica was kissing him back-

Wait.

He was kissing Veronica.

Shit.

He needed to pull away. Right now, before anything else got ruined. He was tipsy, and she was tipsier, and they couldn’t do this. Not like this, not right now, and probably not ever; there was too much at stake, his fuzzy mind told him.

So, he pulled away. He didn’t want to, God he didn’t want to, but he pulled away. He ended the clumsy kiss, removing his hands from her waist and lifting his lips from hers; her own hands stayed on his shoulders, her soft touch still sending warmth throughout his body. He slowly untangled his legs from hers, not daring to look at her; though he figured he had to, if he wanted things to stay normal. To not be ruined. So he summoned some courage, and he looked up at Veronica’s face. She was already looking at him, her eyes even more dazed than before.

And then she burst into giggles.

“Oh God.” She laughed, her hands slowly sliding off his shoulders. There was a blush on her nose and the tips of her ears, he noticed, and it was far from faint. “Did we just kiss?”

He started laughing, too; Veronica’s laugh had always had that effect on him. “I think so.” He said around a chuckle, watching as Veronica let out the most endearing snort.

“Wow.” She breathed, her smile tipsy as her gaze caught onto his. “We’re drunk.” She stated, giddy and a little stunned. “Like, actually drunk.”

“I think we are.” JD nodded, still laughing. “It means we won’t remember any of this tomorrow, anyway. I saw that on TV.”

“Hold on,” Veronica chuckled, “we’re not that drunk.”

“Maybe I’m not.” JD teased. “You definitely are.” Veronica grabbed one shoe from her lap and tried throwing it at him; it barely grazed his knee before falling on the ground.

JD raised his eyebrows and smirked. “I rest my case.”

They finished their slushies and walked home shortly after, Veronica leaning against JD almost entirely and pushing him off the sidewalk when she felt like it. He didn’t push her away. It was weird, but he didn’t feel sad; something in him felt lighter as he waved goodbye to Veronica, his Veronica, and watched her enter her house from his own doorstep. He didn’t ruin anything; he kissed her, and it felt great (if a tad cumbersome), and he didn’t ruin anything. He still had her; his best friend. The love of his life. His Veronica.

They both went to bed fully content that night, Veronica with her diary clutched to her chest and JD after having had a very meaningful (somewhat pathetically so) talk with his hamster. He had Veronica’s smart eyes in his head as he lied awake and she fell asleep to the thought of JD’s smooth hands cradling her waist; but it didn’t matter. It was the punch’s fault, right?

The next morning, they both woke up with mild headaches and found that it was very much not the almost-not-spiked punch’s fault.

And that they were both, to put it in JD’s words, so fucked.

Chapter Text

The first time Veronica realized JD would always, always be there for her, she was sixteen years old.

Veronica’s been having a weird junior year, to say the least. Between cutting her hair to shoulder’s length over the summer, finally investing in a pocket-sized diary, and getting her first F on a test, it’s been a wild ride. But the weirdest thing had been, undoubtedly, joining the Heathers.

It happened the third day of September, by a complete accident; she was just going to the bathroom between classes when she heard the bell ring. She freaked out, naturally, since she hated being late, and was just about to run out of the girl’s bathroom in a panic when she heard heels clicking on the floor outside followed by the sound of violent vomiting in the stall next to her.

Shit.

The Heathers have decided to enter the bathroom, and Veronica was now trapped in here. Realistically, she could get out, but facing the Heathers was worse than any form of detention Veronica could fathom. So, she helplessly stayed locked in her stall, recoiling every time Heather Duke retched (she knew it was Duke; everyone knew it was Duke) and listening as Chandler criticized her for… having bulimia? That’s not very nice, Veronica thought. Bulimia was a serious thing; and it’s been effecting Heather since middle school, that much Veronica knew. Maybe it was fitting that her signature color was green, Veronica thought to herself, and almost smiled at her own joke before reprimanding herself for being a terrible person and tardy all in the span of a minute. She was not having a good day.

JD would be proud.

She didn’t dare to sit on the dirty toilet, opting to stand and will for the Heathers to leave soon so she could run to class and maybe still make it before the teacher arrives, when she heard a new voice joining the Heathers’ rather disturbing conversation about eating disorder trends.

“Ah, Heather and Heather.” Veronica heard Ms. Fleming’s familiar voice greet, and internally cursed to herself. Now a teacher was in the mix. Duke, once again, vomited violently, and Veronica cringed. “And Heather.” Ms. Fleming continued. “Perhaps you didn’t hear the bell over all the vomiting, but you’re late for class.”

“Heather wasn’t feeling well.” Veronica heard Chandler’s threatening voice, and even in the relative safety of her little stall, she shrunk. “We’re helping her.”

For once, Ms. Fleming seemed to be having none of it. “Not without a hall pass, you’re not.” She stated, and Veronica could hear glee in her voice.

Wait. A hall pass.

Veronica quickly pulled her diary out of her back pocket, unlatching her blue pen from the cover and quickly starting to write. She might actually have a way to get out of this.

“Week’s detention.” Ms. Fleming continued. Heather Chandler was just about to start resisting when Veronica emerged from her stall, clutching the note she’d scribbled with an accurate imitation of her homeroom teacher’s handwriting.

“Um, actually, Ms. Fleming,” Veronica piped up, walking bravely towards the teacher and where all three Heathers now stood, “all four of us are out on a hall pass.” Her hands were slightly shaky as she handed Ms. Fleming the note, trying to come up with a plausible reason for her to even be breathing the same air as the Heathers. “Yearbook committee.” She settled eventually, hoping her voice didn’t sound too hesitant.

Ms. Fleming carefully examined the note, and as Veronica expected, she found no fault in it. “I see you’re all listed.” She muttered, taking another look at the paper before handing it back to Veronica. “Hurry up and get where you’re going.” And with that, the teacher left the bathroom.

Veronica turned the note over in her hand, admiring her own work, but barely a second later fingers manicured in red snatched it away from her. She looked up to see Heather Chandler looming over her, examining the note much like Ms. Fleming had earlier, the two smaller Heathers watching over her shoulder.

“This is an excellent forgery.” Chandler said, sounding impressed. Veronica smiled timidly. “Who are you?” the red Heather demanded, towering over Veronica in a way that made her gulp. Even now, with Veronica being one of the taller girls in her grade (a proud 5’8, thank you very much), Chandler still had a significant advantage over her in the height front that reminded her of her younger days, where almost everyone at school could tower above her.

Still, she squared her shoulders and answered. “Veronica.” She said as confidently as she could (which was to say not at all). “Sawyer.” She continued after a pause, though she was almost entirely sure the Heathers knew who she was. Everyone knew everyone in this small school.

“You’re a good forger.” Chandler stated, though it didn’t exactly sound like a compliment.

“Thanks…?” Veronica said hesitantly, her voice coming out squeaky the way it hadn’t in a while. Popular kids still had that effect on her, it seemed. She wondered if she’d ever be rid of that.

“You’re welcome.” Heather McNamara piped up from behind her red-clad friend, ever the sweet cheerleader.

Chandler ignored her bouncy minion and kept her gaze set on Veronica. “Do you do anything else?”

Veronica furrowed her eyebrows. “I’m sorry?”

“Do you forge anything else?” Chandler clarified, seemingly annoyed that she even had to. “Report cards, permission slips, absence notes-“

“Prescriptions?” Heather Duke asked hopefully. Chandler turned to her.

“Shut up, Heather.” She hissed. The green-clad Heather shrunk, much like Veronica remembered her doing since middle school.

“Sorry, Heather.”

Chandler turned back to a confused and slightly frightened Veronica, one perfectly shaped eyebrow raised in anticipation. “So?” she demanded.

“I… can do other stuff.” Veronica said lamely.

“Perfect. Do you want to sit with us at lunch today?” Chandler asked. Well, it was really more of a statement than a question; like she was telling Veronica what she wanted rather than asking.

“And we don’t do this a lot.” Heather McNamara said, her eyes wide. “So this is, like, a big deal.” Chandler rolled her eyes, but she didn’t tell McNamara to shut up. She just watched Veronica with expectant, hawkish eyes.

“Um…” Veronica faltered under Chandler’s gaze. “Yeah. Yeah, um, sure.” She said eventually.

“How very.” Chandler stated. With a turn of her strawberry-blonde curls she left the bathroom, her sycophants trailing behind her. McNamara turned and sent a smile Veronica’s way; she returned it, confused and a little dizzy.

And that, in a nutshell, was how the weirdest part of Veronica’s year had started. That day at lunch she sat with the Heathers instead of with her regular friends, and the next week the Heathers took her on a shopping spree to buy all blue clothes (now her signature color, apparently, since it “looks good on pale people”, in Chandler’s words, which once again didn’t sound like a compliment), and the next week she was invited to her first college party, and now she was popular.

It was weird, being popular. She wasn’t used to everyone’s eyes on her; while her days of crippling social anxiety were mostly gone, Veronica had never exactly enjoyed being the center of attention. And when she was with the Heathers, that was exactly what she was. Not the loser, nobody, Veronica Mouse anymore; but the hot, sarcastic, honorary Heather. The girl who dressed in preppy blue clothes and always matched her friends. the girl who got hit on by jocks and nerds alike every day, and was too polite to turn them down so the Heathers shoed them away for her. The girl who pranced around the cafeteria once a week with a lunchtime poll question, each one dumber than the other, asking the kids Chandler couldn’t be bothered to deal with. She was a Heather now; she had to get used to the attention. Only, she didn’t.

Which was just one of the reasons she fought so hard to keep in touch with her old friends. Being a Heather was demanding, but Veronica refused to abandon her friends. She always made time for them, even when it was hard; even when it meant she had to skip class because Martha had free period or wake up in the middle of the night to climb into the window of the house next door and have the first real conversation with JD she’d had all week. With the Heathers, Veronica didn’t always feel like herself. She did, sometimes, when she helped McNamara with her homework or got a little too overly competitive at croquet, but most of the time she didn’t. She wouldn’t say she lost herself; she liked to think she wasn’t that kind of person. Melodrama had always been more of a JD thing. But she had to admit, every time she put on a too-short-to-feel-comfortable-in skirt or reluctantly did a shot at a party, she felt like she was watching herself from afar. Like she was watching some other Veronica; a much cooler, hotter, if still just as anxious Veronica.

With her older friends, Veronica could feel like herself. When she’d watch The Princess Bride with Martha for the hundredth time or get a piercing headache from yet another slushie-drinking contest with JD, she’d feel like the old her. She could almost picture herself with a funky scarf and an ancient pair of jeans and her too-long hair flowing all the way to her ribs.

So, she stood the Heathers up today. It was the second week of October, and they asked if she wanted to go to the mall and get some fall clothes, and she’d said no. She claimed she had a ton of homework, which she did; her now rich social life left her much less study time than she liked. But still, Veronica only endured Chandler’s annoyed snarl and Duke’s demeaning “later, Nerd” so she could climb up the trellises of the house next door, a folder of schoolwork clutched in her hands.

JD had been home sick for a good week now; some flue that refused to leave him alone. In previous years, it wasn’t like Veronica saw less of him when he was sick; she’d bring him homework every day and hang out with him, watching movies or playing cards or just talking, knowing that he’d repay the favor when she’d inevitably catch whatever he had. But not this time. This time, it was Friday, and Veronica actually hadn’t seen him or talked to him since last weekend; a whole nine days since they’d spoken. That number was too close to their highpoint (eleven days, in the seventh grade, when Veronica and her family went on some trip to Africa), at least in Veronica’s opinion, and she missed her best friend. So she grabbed his heaping pile of homework that she knew he’d never do anyway, convinced the Heathers she was busy, and was now knocking on JD’s window with her free hand. She could see him inside; he was on his bed, reading, but he got up to open for her. She clumsily toppled inside, landing on the floor like she usually did.

“Graceful.” JD commented. He always did that; she’d stopped batting an eye at it.

Instead, she handed him the folder. “I’m bringing you homework, so stop being a dick.” She ordered sternly.

“Sorry, sorry.” JD rolled his eyes, taking the folder from her. “Thanks.” He said, and she could tell he meant it.

He threw the homework folder on his desk, probably never to be touched again, before looking over at Veronica and frowning. “What’s on your feet?” he asked bluntly.

Veronica looked down; her feet were clad in a pair of black ankle boots, shiny with an impressive heel. “Chandler gave them to me.” She said offhandedly. The red Heather had claimed Veronica was at a terrible lack of “casual heels”, whatever that meant, so she gave her the boots she claimed were too small. They squeezed Veronica’s toes a bit, as well, but she liked them. They made her feel like new Veronica was a badass.

JD seemed to tense a little at the mention of the Heathers, but it was gone before Veronica could comment on it. Not that it mattered; she knew his disdain for the most popular girls at Westerberg and just how much he disapproved of Veronica joining their clique. She sometimes felt like he was judging her, and she hated that feeling. He was supposed to be the one person who never did that.

“They seem painful.” He commented now, still watching Veronica’s boots.

She shrugged. “Beauty is pain.” She said simply, remembering that Duke had said the exact same thing today after she emptied her stomach of her lunch. Veronica almost shuddered at the memory; she didn’t like Duke, not one bit, but she felt so bad for her it made her feel sick herself.

JD sat down on his bed and Veronica followed, sitting crisscrossed because she knew his mom’s “shoes off on the furniture” rule never phased him. Veronica hardly got to sit crisscrossed these days; a Heather always sat with one leg crossed over the other, like she was a lady but also ready to attack. That’s how Veronica worded it, at least. Silently making fun of them made all the weird rules a lot less boring.

“How is the demon queen, by the way?” JD asked, leaning back against the wall. “Bit anyone’s head off lately?”

Veronica sighed. “Just her own friends’.” she said bitterly. “She almost punched me today for trying to change the lunchtime poll question.” She told JD, rolling her eyes at the memory. “Why are you pulling my dick, Veronica?” she said in a high-pitched voice, parroting Chandler’s words from earlier in the day.

“What a bitch.” JD laughed at Veronica’s impression, and it loosened something in her. At least she still had someone to vent to. “What was the question, anyway?”

Veronica sighed noisily again. “If you inherit five million dollars the same day aliens tell the earth they’re blowing us up in two days, what would you do?” she recited the dumb question, her disregard beyond obvious.

JD paused shortly, maybe to think, maybe for dramatic effect. “That’s the stupidest question I’ve ever heard.” He stated eventually.

“Thank you!” Veronica exclaimed, making JD snort. She leaned back against the wall, shaking her head. Despite the perks of her newfound status, she really did hate the Heathers sometimes.

“Hey,” JD started after a beat, making Veronica turn to him, “are you busy tonight? I’m not really sick anymore, so I thought maybe we could watch some movies? We haven’t done that in a while.” He offered.

Veronica let out a groan. “I’d love to, believe me,” she said honestly, “but I have this-“ she cut herself off abruptly, realizing what she was about to say. “Thing.” She finished weakly. “I have a thing.”

As usual, JD could see right through her; he knew her too well. “What kind of thing?” he asked suspiciously.

“Just… something.” She said, trying for offhanded but refusing to look in her best friend’s eyes.

Still, she knew he was raising his eyebrows when he simply said “Sawyer.” He sounded like he didn’t believe her one bit. “What thing?”

Veronica was still looking intently at her lap. “A date.” She admitted reluctantly. “I… have a date.”

“Oh.” JD stated simply. She almost cringed.

They’ve never really discussed their little incident from homecoming last year yet. You know, the one where Veronica kissed him. God, she’d been so stupid; kissing her best friend. Alcohol did weird things to her brain, she learned that night. She’d managed to brush it off; she’d laughed, because it was funny and ridiculous and she’d been a little drunk but mostly on a sugar high, but the next morning when she had woken up, she hadn’t laughed. She’d stayed in her room all day, hiding her pounding headache from her parents, and scribbled furiously in her diary. Because kissing JD had felt good. She’d enjoyed kissing her best friend, and she didn’t know what that meant, and she was beyond terrified to find out.

But before she had time to process all that her new, confusing social status came about, and Veronica pushed the JD issue to the back of her mind. Not that it was hard; they were fairly normal, even after the whole kissing thing. They acted exactly like they always had. Still, Veronica didn’t talk to JD about her love life. She didn’t have much of a love life to talk to him about before she became a Heather, but now that she had guys hitting on her left and right, she didn’t tell him. She told Martha, who giggled along enthusiastically; and she told the Heathers, because she had to; but she didn’t tell JD. She wasn’t sure how he’d react.

Right now it didn’t seem like he knew how to react, just watching Veronica with his face both stunned and emotionless.

“It’s not, like, an actual date.” Veronica hurried to clarify, still not making eye contact.

JD frowned. “What so you mean?”

“It’s… um…” Veronica almost sighed again. While she wasn’t sure what JD’s general response to her now-active love life would be, she knew what his response to this part would be. “Heather McNamara’s going on this date with Kurt, but he wanted it to be a double date with Ram, and she asked if I could go with her so I, um, I agreed to go.” Veronica blurted out the story quickly; she knew she wasn’t in judgment-free territory anymore, and she didn’t like that. “As a favor.”

“Wait.” JD started, and Veronica was still looking anywhere but at him. She was now fixated on the window in front of her; there was a pigeon on the tree outside. “You’re going on a date with Ram Sweeny?”

“Not an actual date.” Veronica repeated. “A favor. For Heather.”

“Why are you helping her?” JD asked, and Veronica almost flinched at the disapproval in his voice. “Don’t you hate her guts?”

“Not McNamara’s.” Veronica admitted. “She’s my friend.” It was true; while Chandler and Duke made Veronica want to rip her hair out and choke them both to death with it, McNamara was her friend. She could be a tad clueless, but she was beyond sweet to Veronica and to everyone else; that is, when she dared to speak. Veronica didn’t like the way she was like Chandler’s pet, since the yellow Heather was her own bubbly, lovely person, but of course, she couldn’t say anything.

“Still, couldn’t she ask Duke or something?” JD asked, and Veronica wondered why he was dwelling on this so much.

“Duke’s got a family thing.” She volunteered nonetheless. “And Chandler’s dating that senior dude, so that leaves me.” She finally looked away from the window she was fixed on and towards JD. He wasn’t looking at her, instead watching the wall in front of him. Her stomach knotted a little.

“You’re judging me, aren’t you?” she asked weakly. She couldn’t help it, though when JD didn’t answer for a beat, she regretted the question.

He turned towards her eventually, finally looking into her eyes. “I’m not judging you, Nikki.” He said decisively. Something about the nickname made Veronica relax; no one but him ever called her Nikki, and she hadn’t heard the name in a while. These days it was all “Sawyer” from the Heathers or “Ronnie” from her parents or “Ronica” from the occasional sleazy jock, but no Nikki. She’d missed it.

“Just…” JD continued, running a hand through his hair. Veronica frowned; that was never a good sign. “Promise me you won’t start dating Ram Sweeny?” he asked eventually. The grin he gave Veronica was completely good-natured, and it made her smile.

“Promise.”

That night, Veronica wore the boots Chandler gave her. Along with a leather jacket and her longest dress that was still Heathers appropriate (she didn’t feel like exposing her full legs to Ram Sweeny, so she wore a light blue dress that cut off right above her knees). As much as she didn’t want to do this, she had to look nice; it was a Heather’s duty, no matter how much she wanted to spend tonight watching Disney movies with JD in her pajamas. She sighed as she styled her now shorter hair, combing in some product McNamara recommended to fight its frizz; she suddenly had a deep craving for a slushie.

The date was… weird, to say the least. For starters, it was at a cow pasture. Yes, a cow pasture. The whole place smelled, and the only attraction was the cheap alcohol the two boys had brought. Heather seemed beyond excited to go out with Kurt; she really liked him, apparently, but Veronica was sure Chandler had something to do with the oddly convenient setup. The clueless cheer captain and the smartest guy on the football team (who still had the IQ of a baboon); it was a match made in heaven. On her end, Veronica couldn’t wait for the night to be over. Apparently Ram hadn’t gotten the memo that she was just doing this for Heather, or maybe he had and he didn’t care. He said every sleazy pickup line Veronica knew and some she didn’t but was horrified by nonetheless, and every time he even tried getting physically close she moved away, muttering something about how bad cows smell. Plus, between the two of them, Ram and Kurt drank every drop of the suspiciously inexpensive beer, so Veronica didn’t even have alcohol in her system to make the night more bearable.

It was towards the later hours of the night, eleven or so, when Veronica noticed Heather getting uncomfortable. Kurt was beyond hammered, and he was constantly touching her; breathing down her neck, almost, and Heather squirmed and gently tried to push him off. Veronica didn’t like seeing that, so she decided to do something about it.

“I think Heather and I are going to take off.” She announced as politely as she could, nodding at Heather who shot her a grateful look.

“No!” Kurt cried, stretching out the syllable like an overgrown child. “We were just going to go have sex, right, babe?” he asked a squirming Heather. Veronica blinked, stunned; he really was an idiot.

And completely shitfaced.

“Don’t go, Ronica!” Ram exclaimed, making a move to grab Veronica’s arm but almost toppling to the ground, grabbing the fence behind them for support.

“We’ll see you guys at school.” Veronica said, trying her best to ignore him and will Heather to come with her.

Only, she couldn’t see Heather.

Veronica looked around in a panic until she saw her yellow-clad friend, and her heart dropped. The smallest, sweetest Heather was being led away forcefully by Kurt to some faraway area of the pasture. She noticed Veronica and gave her a pleading, wide-eyed look; Veronica sprang into action. She started rushing towards where Kurt and Heather were going when she felt a large, forceful hand on her arm.

“Come on, Ronica.” Ram slurred, practically incoherent. Veronica was still turned away from him, trying to break free of his hold. “We can do what they’re doing. I want to do what they’re doing.”

“Ram, let me go.” Veronica ordered, grabbing his arm with her hands to make him release her. “I’m not in the mood.” Ram didn’t listen. Instead, he turned her around and towards him.

Now, Veronica wasn’t short by any means, especially with the heeled boots adding a good three inches to her height. But Ram was a jock; and a tall one at that, so he towered over Veronica, and she felt threatened. She knew he was drunk and had no idea what he was doing, but the way he stood above Veronica made her want to shrink; she felt tiny. She felt helpless. She hated, hated, hated feeling tiny and helpless. She hadn’t felt like that since she was at most thirteen, and she hated it so much.

“Ram, get away.” Veronica ordered, her voice shaky. “I’m going to go find Heather and we’re leaving.” Ram only moved closer, and closer, until Veronica was backed up against the fence.

He didn’t say anything; he just grabbed her head and kissed her. Veronica resisted as much as she could, using her hands to peel his palms away from her face, but he was persistent. He smelled and tasted like alcohol and alcohol only, and it made Veronica feel sick, and he grabbed her hands in his own so she wouldn’t resist; so hard it was bound to leave bruises. His tongue was making its way into her mouth, and she just near gagged. She tore her head away from him, trying to look around for Heather, but she couldn’t see her. Even more panic settled in her stomach, but she didn’t have any more time to look because Ram was making another move to kiss her.

His hands were all over her body; big and sweaty and dirty, and Veronica wanted him off of her as fast as possible. She felt claustrophobic, trapped between him and the fence, and her heart was pounding in her ears. There were tears in her eyes; she wanted them gone. She wanted to square her shoulders and look right at Ram and punch him in the face, and be brave, and go find Heather and run, but she couldn’t. All her body allowed her to do was freeze, and just will for Ram’s hands to magically be removed from her waist and her hair and her face and anywhere they ever were.

“Come on, Veronica.” Ram slurred between sloppy kisses all over her face; each one made Veronica feel closer to vomiting. “You want this. You wanted to be popular.”

“Ram.” Was all Veronica could gasp, her body working against her as she tried shoving him away but couldn’t bring herself to move. “Get off of me.”

He didn’t.

His hands kept moving around on her body, and Veronica was hyper aware of his touch; she wanted it gone. She wanted him gone. She wanted to be at home, in her pajamas, watching Disney movies with JD. She wanted tonight to never have happened. She didn’t even want to be popular anymore.

“Yo! Dude!” Someone called from behind Ram. He turned towards the sound, his mouth finally leaving Veronica’s face, but his hands were still firmly holding her shoulders. It was Kurt who called out to him, and Veronica hoped to see Heather behind him perfectly fine, but she wasn’t there.

“Heather ran off.” Kurt slurred, walking closer to them. Veronica needed to find Heather, and she needed to make sure she was okay, and she needed to go home.

Ram was distracted and still wasted, so when Veronica’s reflexes were back she could break away from his hold quite easily. She slipped away from him before he could grab her again, and gave him a strategic kick in the stomach with her heel that sent him toppling to the ground. And just to be safe, she did the same to Kurt; lifted her leg and kicked his stomach with her heel.

Only she slipped, and had now fallen to the muddy ground along with the boys. She landed on her knees, and she felt them burn, but she couldn’t focus on that. Or on how she was now completely covered in slippery mud. She just had to run.

So, she ran.

Veronica ran out of the cow pasture as fast as she could with her high heels and the burn in her knees; and she was surprisingly quick. She dashed through the gate of the pasture, her eyes scanning the area for Heather. She didn’t have to look far; her small friend was huddled behind a tree, tears streaming down her face. Veronica rushed over to her, panting.

“Heather, are you okay?” she asked quickly, going to place her hands on Heather’s shoulders but remembering the mud all over herself and deciding against it. “Did he do anything to you?”

Heather shook her head and sniffled. “I, um, I ran before he could.” She said, a sob escaping her. “You look like a mess, Veronica, I’m so sorry. Are you okay? I didn’t mean for-“

“It’s not your fault.” Veronica hurried to say; she couldn’t have Heather feeling in any way guilty over this. “I’m fine.” She lied, just to reassure her. Heather just nodded.

“Can we maybe take a raincheck on the sleepover?” Veronica asked carefully; she didn’t want to leave Heather alone, but she wanted to go somewhere she knew better than the rich girl’s house.

Heather nodded again. “Good idea.”

Veronica made sure Heather was okay to get home and watched as she left, small and shaken and helpless.

And only then did Veronica allow herself to cry.

She felt so dirty; not only because of the mud. Ram’s touch was like a ghost all over her skin and her face and her hair, and it made her feel disgusting. She could barely walk as she made her way home; her heels were too high, and her legs were shaking so hard she was afraid they’d buckle underneath her. Plus, she noticed some blood dripping down her legs along with the mud; she must’ve really scraped her knees when she fell. Her sobbing was hardly related to the pain.

She should’ve been more careful; she should’ve never agreed to this double-date thing in the first place. God, she hated those jocks. Kurt and Ram could go rot in hell, for all she cared. She hoped she hurt them with her kicks; Chandler’s shoes had some sharp heels on them. It was a shame she’d probably ruined them. And her clothes, too; she didn’t know how easy to clean leather was, and her pretty dress was probably messed up beyond repair. Besides, Veronica was sure that every time she’d wear it, she’d feel dirty. Dirty, and disgusting, and taken advantage of.

God, she hated Ram Sweeny.

She wasn’t sure how long it was until she stood in front of her house, quiet tears still streaming down her face. She didn’t want to go inside. She didn’t want her parents to ask why she wasn’t sleeping at Heather’s like they’d planned, or why she was covered in mud, or why she was crying, or why her knees were bloody. She didn’t want questions. She wanted to shower, and she wanted to sleep, and she wanted Ram’s touch erased from her body.

So, she climbed the trellises of the house next door.

It was a struggle; between her high heels and bloody knees and blurry eyes and still shaky legs, Veronica almost fell three times before she made it to JD’s window. She could see him inside, reading; she knew he wouldn’t be asleep. She didn’t even hesitate before knocking. He looked towards the window and his eyes widened when he caught sight of her; she must’ve been quite the vision, dirty and hurt and sobbing. JD sprung up to open the window for her.

“Veronica, what happened?” he asked quickly, taking her hands and helping her inside, as gentle as ever. The question only made her want to sob again, so she didn’t answer. Instead, she sniffled, and used one muddy finger to push her hair out of her wet eyes.

“Can I use your shower?”

He gave her his cleanest clothes. Some old, faded band t-shirt and striped pajama pants that were just in the laundry. Veronica took them with her and went to take a shower; JD’s bathroom was as good a spot as her own house to peel off her muddy clothes and sit under a stream of hot water. She scrubbed herself with soap over and over again, anything to get the ghost of Ram’s touch off of her skin, but it didn’t work. She still felt unbearably disgusting; and the nasty, open scabs on both her knees were doing nothing to help with that fact.

She wasn’t sure how long she spent in the shower, sitting under the stream of water because she could barely stand up and scrubbing herself until her hands burned, but she knew it was a while. When she finally got out her head hurt, and there was steam on the mirror. Still, she avoided looking at it at all costs as she slipped into the clothes JD gave her. They were too big for her, with the shirt cutting off at her lower thighs and the pants so big she had to roll them up, but they smelled like laundry detergent and they concealed the ghost of Ram’s hands on her skin. Just a little, but enough to almost make her sigh in relief.

When Veronica quietly entered JD’s room, clutching her muddy clothes and a box of Band-Aids, he looked up immediately. He walked over to her, taking the clothes and putting them on the ground. He gently put a hand on her shoulder and led her to his bed; she leaned into it. Where he touched she could feel Ram’s revolting touch fading away, replaced with the feeling of JD’s warm, comforting hand.

“Veronica.” JD said her name so gently, she thought; his voice was so grounding. He didn’t slur it. “What happened?”

She told him.

She didn’t even hesitate. She told him everything; how drunk the boys had gotten, how uncomfortable she could see Heather was feeling. How Kurt dragged Heather away. How Ram trapped her against the fence, how he kissed her when she didn’t want him to. Veronica sobbed as she told JD, but she didn’t care; he was the one person she let see her like this without caring. The one person who knew how to handle it.

When she was done talking, JD looked angrier than she’d ever seen him. He looked like he was ready to kill someone. Still, when he brought his hands to her shoulders, they were gentle. And when he pulled her into a hug, his touch was so soft it made her cry even harder. She fell into him, her head buried in his chest as she sobbed and probably made a mess of his shirt. She nestled to him as close as she could; everywhere she could feel his touch, Ram’s touch was gone. Her icky feeling melted away as JD held her, and she never wanted him to let go. He didn’t seem like he was going to, anyway.

“Those dicks.” He muttered, and she didn’t think he meant for her to hear it. “Those assholes. I hate them so much.”

“Me too.” Veronica mumbled, her voice muffled into his chest.

“They can’t hurt you anymore.” JD assured her, only half-looking at her face because she was grasping onto him like a lifeline, not that he seemed to mind. “I’ll make sure of it, I promise. They’ll never do anything like that to anyone. They’re never going to touch you again.”

“Okay.” Veronica muttered weakly, the comfort of JD’s touch making her adrenaline wear off. She was so tired she could fall asleep sitting up, right then and there.

“You said you hurt your knees, right?” JD asked. Veronica just nodded. “You brought Band-Aids?” she nodded again.

JD didn’t stop touching her, even as he bandaged her knees. She insisted she could do it herself, but her voice was weak and beyond unconvincing. Still, JD kept one hand on her shoulder as he carefully placed a few Band-Aids on her scabs; a cross of four on each knee. There was a little blood seeping through them, but they made the pain subside almost completely. Though that could’ve just been his touch. Veronica leaned into it, not one bit ashamed. She never felt like she had to be, with him.

“Can I stay here tonight?” she asked softly after he finished bandaging her knees, watching as one of the Band-Aids was painted red with her blood. “I told my parents I’d sleep at Heather’s, and I don’t really want to tell them why I’m not.” She explained.

“Yeah, of course.” JD hurried to say, standing up from the bed and going towards his closet. “I think my extra mattress is here, so I’ll sleep on that and you can take the bed.”

“Can you…” Veronica started. She was going to regret this so much tomorrow, but right now she just needed him next to her. “Can you sleep on the bed? With me?”

JD halted near the closet. Veronica flinched. She knew sleeping in the same bed with your best friend that you just kissed last year and never talked about it was probably a weird thing to do, but she selfishly needed his touch. It wiped the grossness off of her; it made her feel warm and comforted. She needed it. She needed him.

“Of course I can, Nikki.” He said eventually. The nickname was almost enough to make her smile.

JD climbed onto the bed next to her; he kept his shirt on, for obvious reasons, though Veronica had climbed through his window enough times to know he never slept with it on. Still, she didn’t think of that as she slipped under his blanket. He leaned over his dresser to turn out the light, and then it was dark; but Veronica could feel exactly where he was. He practically radiated warmth.

She wasn’t sure what she was doing, but she grabbed his arm with both of her hands. She brought it close to her, and hugged it like a stuffed animal. It was weird, but it made her feel comforted; like he was there to ground her, and he wasn’t going anywhere. He tensed for a second in confusion, but Veronica quickly felt his other arm wrap around her waist; she was pulled against him now, and she felt warm and reassured and clean.

“Thanks for being there for me.” She murmured, voice muffled into his pillow.

“Always, Nikki.” He whispered back, clearly not as sleepy as her. “Always.”

He was always there for her, she thought to herself. Even now, when she was with the Heathers and she went on dates with football players, JD was there for her. She could always count on that; that he’d be there to unlock his window for her. To let her talk. To hold her and comfort her, wipe every bad feeling from her body away with his touch. His touch that could comfort her, warm her, clean her.

Because she loved him.

Veronica Sawyer was in love with her best friend. That’s why she’d enjoyed kissing him; that’s why his touch could fix everything. Because she was so, so in love with him, to the point where the mere presence of him next to her could comfort her. To the point where she held his arm to her like a stuffed animal and it was the safest she’d ever felt. She probably should’ve been scared by that realization, or at least confused, but she wasn’t.

Because she didn’t even need to hold his arm to get him to stay.

She didn’t really see him for the rest of the weekend. She stayed home; she turned down the Heathers when they asked if she wanted to hang out, and didn’t really talk to anyone other than Saturday morning, when she’d called McNamara to see if she was okay. Veronica spent the weekend in the shirt JD gave her and never asked to get back, exchanging the bandages on her knees every few hours while she kept herself busy; did her homework, read, but mostly wrote in her diary.

She wrote about her best friend. About his warm touch and kind words. About the way he could make everything better. About how grateful she was to him; more than words could express. About how she was in love with him; how, when she thought about it, she had been for a very long time.

When she came back to school on Monday, avoiding Kurt and Ram like the plague and dodging Chandler and Duke’s questions about the date, she looked for him all day. He wasn’t there; when she cornered Martha during lunch to ask, she simply shrugged and said he wasn’t at school today. Weird; he’d told her he was feeling better.

Veronica knocked on his door, for once, instead of the window. Her scabs were healing and they made it harder to climb, so she opted to wait at the door until he opened. It happened fairly quickly; he was probably in the living room when she knocked. The sight of him should’ve made her heart beat; only it didn’t, because when JD opened the door, his lip was busted and there was a bandage over his nose.

“Oh my God.” Veronica exclaimed bluntly when her eyes fell on him.

“Hello to you too.” JD muttered.

“JD, what the hell happened to you?” she asked, ignoring his sarcasm. How could he have hurt himself this quickly? She’d just seen him on Friday, and she was pretty sure he hadn’t left the house since.

He shrugged. “Just gave some assholes what they deserved.” Veronica looked at him, puzzled, before her eyes widened in realization. She remembered Heather Duke saying something today about Kurt having a black eye and Ram apparently having a missing tooth; she’d tuned it out at the mention of their names, but it was coming back to her now.

“You beat them up.” She stated.

JD shrugged again. “Again, just what they deserve.”

His words went through her mind again; always, Nikki. Always. He would always, always be there for her.

She hugged him. Right there, on his doorstep. She needed him closer to her, and he didn’t seem to mind; his hands were around her a second after she did.

“Thank you.” she whispered, squeezing him tight.

He squeezed her back, his touch warm and comforting. “Always.”

Chapter Text

The first time JD felt Veronica slipping away from him, he was seventeen years old.

It was so weird to him, that Veronica was a Heather now. He’d been trying to come to terms with it since last year, but he just couldn’t. She wasn’t the geeky, genius, awkward girl he loved anymore; she was now this popular, assertive, honorary Heather. Which JD, infuriatingly enough, still loved.

It was a different kind of love, now. He was in love with her, with the popular Veronica Sawyer, but he was even more in love with her. With his Veronica, the girl she used to be. And that might sound a little harsh, but it wasn’t like that girl disappeared. He could see her peeking out of the cool, unintentionally stuck-up façade Veronica had adopted; his Nikki popped out of the disguise from time to time, in the form of a loud giggle or a colorful scarf or a hand raised eagerly in class. She wasn’t gone, Veronica was just hiding her. And he hated it.

It reminded him of the first time he’d met her; way back when they were nine years old. He’d thought she was this fragile, tiny, terrified thing, but then she’d laughed. The first time he heard her laugh, something in him that he didn’t know existed was ignited. Back then, she’d tried to hide her laughter. She’d hidden her mouth behind her hand and muttered something, though he could see her eyes were still sparkling. Even all the way back then, when he was nine and the girl who grew up to be the most important person in his life was a mere stranger, he didn’t want her to hide her laughter. Veronica’s laugh was like nothing he’d ever heard before; it was loud and a little strange and the most unique sound he’d ever heard, like he’d soon found out the whole of her was; odd and beautiful and unique and refusing to be contained. And now she was doing it again; hiding. Hiding her laughter with her hands, but this time, adding a few blinks to make the sparkles in her eyes subside, all because some red-wearing bitch and her two color-coordinated minions made her feel like she had to. Well, JD had to give some credit; while he knew Heather Chandler and Heather Duke constantly criticized Veronica and treated her like trash, Heather McNamara didn’t seem too bad. He actually caught her hiding her own laughter sometimes; but she did it less than Veronica did. Maybe she’d been doing this for so long that she was losing herself fully, and JD was so scared of that happening to Veronica. Because if she’d lost herself, he’d lose her, too.

JD was scared shitless of losing Veronica. He’d been terrified of it since last year; since she’d stopped sitting with him and Martha at lunch. Since she’d started wearing blazers and high heels that didn’t match her style, since she’d started waking up early to tame her hair. She promised him she wouldn’t abandon them; he didn’t say he was scared, but his Veronica could read him. She’d promised that she’d keep hanging out with him, keep her window open, still tell him everything. And lately she’d been keeping those promises less and less.

For starters, she’d been blowing him off constantly since senior year had started. Every time he suggested a movie night or going out on a slushie run or studying together (which meant Veronica would be studying and JD would make it his life’s mission to distract her), she’d say she couldn’t. That she had a party, or a trip to the mall, or homework, or she was just so tired from all the parties and mall trips and homework she’d had all week. And she’d stopped climbing through his window at night; sometimes he’d climb through hers to find her sleeping like a baby, and when he’d wake her up with a grin, she’d seem seriously reluctant and only relived when he left. That was new. She’d stopped telling him things, too; she used to run to him whenever she had exciting news, anything from gossip to a Christmas present she found hidden in her parents’ room. But now she’d just mention stuff offhandedly, as an afterthought; that she went on a date with some guy last night and that Heather told her she needed new shoes and that she failed a test. Stuff his Nikki from a year or two ago would freak out about, this new Veronica would say like they didn’t matter.

He was fighting so hard to keep her it was almost pathetic. He suggested they hang out whenever he could, holding out hope that she’d sometime agree. He’d realized cornering her at school was useless months ago, but that didn’t mean he didn’t try talking to her in the hallway or their shared classes. She’d politely answer or wave, but wouldn’t go much past that. Every well-mannered smile she sent his way made a piece break off of JD’s heart.

He missed her, so much. She used to be his, dammit. Not in the disgusting misogynistic way; Veronica was her own person, of course. But he used to be a part of her. They used to be inseparable; wherever he went she went, and it worked the other way, too. Now she’d barely talk to him in the hallway, and his love for her was based on memories that tortured him every time she civilly waved at him in the hallway.

Today she’d finally agreed to hang out, for the first time in God knew how long. It was a Tuesday, and she’d finished her homework over the weekend, and Heather Chandler was doing something so the Heathers didn’t have their queen forcing them into spending time together. So, when JD asked Veronica if she wanted to go get slushies with him, she agreed. They were now sitting on the curb outside the 7/11; they haven’t sat at that particular spot since they were fifteen, a little tipsy and madly in love. Well, one of them. Neither of them talked about it, though, and JD just started drinking his blue raspberry drink too fast. He was expecting Veronica to follow suit like she always did, but instead, she turned the cup over in her hands.

“How many calories do you think are in this?” she asked casually, examining the icy, purple liquid in her cup. JD stopped drinking.

“Not a lot.” He said. He had no idea, but then again, he didn’t think it mattered; Veronica had always been thin, and last year he’d noticed her lose more weight than was probably good for her. She was still gorgeous, but she’d been just as gorgeous before and he wasn’t sure she knew that. She was friends with Heather Duke, after all.

He was in no position to tell her that, though, so he just shrugged. “It’s frozen juice. Can’t be that bad for you.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Veronica muttered. Still, her first sip of the drink was small and hesitant.

JD tried not to dwell on that. He was hanging out with Veronica for the first time in a while, and he would do anything to make his Nikki come out today. Just get the smallest glimpse of her; make sure she wasn’t gone yet.

“So,” he started, taking another sip of his drink and barely wincing at the pain; he was almost used to it, and he enjoyed the way it numbed the thought of Veronica barely picking at her lunch today. “Have you started applying for colleges?”

“Not yet.” Veronica said unconcernedly. And that was all she said before she took another slow, tentative sip of her drink. JD had to fight a frown; usually, the topic of college would send Veronica into a rambling speech about Harvard and Boston and law degrees, but not anymore, apparently.

JD looked down at his feet, in his trademark scuffed boots, and noticed Veronica’s next to his, clad in these little blue heels that seemed beyond uncomfortable. He remembered she used to not be able to walk in heels; one time in freshmen year, she’d tried wearing them for a Halloween costume but was in so much pain by the end of the day he’d had to carry her half the way home. Now he still saw her stumble or trip occasionally when she wore high heels, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her in mere sneakers. He hoped she still owned them; somewhere in her closet, with her old ratty jeans and colorful sweaters. Somewhere the Heathers couldn’t reach.

“How are the Heathers doing?” JD asked as a final resort. “I saw them terrorizing some freshmen this morning, what was that about?”

Veronica just shrugged. “I don’t know.” She mumbled.

JD refused to give up; if there was one thing his Nikki couldn’t resist it was gossiping about the kids she hated, and he was positive she still hated most Heathers. “Did they wear too many primary colors?” he asked mockingly.

“You’re not funny.” Veronica muttered. He knew it would only be a matter of time until she’d give in and smile, so he continued.

“Or maybe they dared not to bow down to the demon queen of high school?” normally by this point Veronica would be laughing, or at least rolling her eyes and shoving at his shoulders and calling him dramatic, so he probably should’ve been more surprised when she didn’t respond. He hated that he wasn’t, so he kept going.

He gasped jokingly, his tone dripping sarcasm as he spoke with a purposely overdramatic hush. “Did one of them wear a scrunchie?”

“JD, stop it!” Veronica snapped, her head shooting up. He almost flinched; that was unexpected.

“They’re my friends, okay?” she exclaimed, messing with the straw of her drink as she spoke. “And you can’t just keep making fun of them. I’m like that, too.” She reminded him. Said the words he’d been pushing away from his brain for the past year or so. “I wear a scrunchie.” She raised her left arm where a dark blue scrunchie was resting around her wrist.

“But you’re not like them.” JD insisted, watching the scrunchie on her hand intently. “You’re… you’re you. And they’re so mean… You weren’t bullying those freshmen today, right?”

“Of course I wasn’t.” Veronica sighed, staring into the melting drink in her cup. “Just stop… doing that thing, okay? Where you judge me. I know you hate them, but just stop.” Before he had a chance to respond Veronica was pushing herself off the ground. “I have to go.” She muttered.

He bid her a confused, hesitant goodbye and watched as she walked away with her little heels, throwing her nearly untouched drink in the garbage. She didn’t trip once.

He hadn’t been judging her; had he? Not on purpose, anyway. He knew she wasn’t like them; she wasn’t mean. He wasn’t judging, just... he’d always respected her for staying so loyal to herself, even when it was hard, and it seemed like she was doing it less and less. And he didn’t like it; he didn’t want his Veronica to disappear. He hated watching the girl she used to be get sucked away by three color-coded bitches with the same name, and the worst part was that she was just letting them. She was letting them turn her into their primary-colored clone, letting them take her heart away and replace it with a blue scrunchie.

Shit, maybe he had been judging her.

He stopped trying to talk to her after that. And pathetically, it wasn’t hard; they’ve been seeing so little of each other lately he was more used to spending days without her than he was with her. He spent his time at school either alone or with Martha. The ever positive Martha Dunnstock who still managed to stay friends with Veronica, who rooted for her constantly and looked at her now popular friend with adoring eyes, though JD could see how much it hurt her. He was glad they were still friends, at least; while he’d never been as close to Martha as he’d been to Veronica, they’ve become quite a trio over the years, and his sweetest friend needed someone in her corner, someone to talk to in the hallway or have lunch with. And maybe he needed someone, too.

At home he kept himself busy; reading, usually, watching meaningless crap on TV, occasionally studying (very occasionally), and sometimes just staring out his window trying to will a blue-clad girl to come knocking on it.

She never did.

He didn’t speak to her for the rest of the week. He saw her at school; sometimes she’d have the decency to smile at him, sometimes she’d return to her conversation with the Heathers without giving him a second glance. Sometimes she’d give him this look, on the rare occasions she’d be alone; it was this sad, guilty, pitiful look. He’d call it longing if he didn’t know better. He did, however, know better; he knew that it was nothing. Just a leftover feeling she’d held onto with him, something that was going to disappear soon. It’s not like she’d ever had more than friendly feelings towards him, and apparently, their eight-year long friendship was not enough to survive the glitter bomb that was the Heathers. JD had given up on his Nikki; every day he could see her slipping away, hidden behind sparkly eyeshadow or choked with hair product.

By Friday, he wasn’t surprised when Veronica walked into the cafeteria with the Heathers and ignored him completely. He was sitting in his and Martha’s regular table, the one that used to be their entire trio’s but hadn’t been used in that manner since sophomore year, with a book in his hand. He’d been reading it, but when his ears picked up on Veronica’s familiar voice in a conversation with her friends, it was all he could focus on. It was a habit he’d had since they were kids; always seeking her out in a crowd, not relaxing until he found her. He wondered if he’d ever be rid of it.

The Heathers were talking about some party as they made their way to the center of the cafeteria, their usual table as always unoccupied; a homecoming party at Ram Sweeny’s house. That dick. Ever since last year, JD couldn’t hear the asshole’s name without remembering the satisfaction of knocking the jock’s tooth out of his mouth, followed by the unmatched feeing of Veronica throwing her arms around him and hugging him fiercely on his doorstep.

Right now, Heather Chandler was blabbering on about matching dresses. Veronica told Chandler what she was planning to wear, said some fashion words JD wasn’t sure he knew, but then she quieted and let Heather McNamara take her place, then the yellow clad girl did the same thing for Heather Duke. Duke’s words were cut off early with a shrill “Shut up, Heather!” from her master, and they moved onto a different topic. The Heathers’ conversations always seemed to have the same structure; the hierarchies were obvious, who could talk when and about what and how long. And it was all controlled by Heather Chandler; the all-mighty, who could silence amazing, uncontained girls like JD’s old best friend.

He was just about to go back to his book when another thing in the Heathers’ conversation caught his attention, though this time it wasn’t Veronica’s voice. It was Chandler’s, of all people.

 “Veronica.” She demanded harshly, looking at her red nails with disinterest as she spoke. “I need a forgery in Ram Sweeny’s handwriting.” Something about Chandler’s tone made JD feel like something bad was coming; he hoped Veronica wouldn’t agree. He cautiously looked up from his book to see that she was now writing carefully on a stray piece of notebook paper, probably copying the words Chandler was saying, something about Ram missing some girl and inviting her to his homecoming party, in the handwriting of the dumbass who’d almost raped her last year.

Okay, yeah, he was definitely judging her.

“Put an xo after the signature.” Chandler urged Veronica, who complied. She finished her forgery and handed Chandler the note; the red Heather examined it before a gleeful, hawkish smirk spread on her face. She handed the note to Duke quite quickly when she got bored with it. The green-clad girl scrambled to grab it.

“Who’s this for, anyway?” Veronica asked, and the lack of interest in her tone was making JD worried. There was no way she was going along with this; she wouldn’t bully someone.

Right?

“I just found out Ram used to hang with Martha Dumptruck.” Chandler said mockingly, and JD could feel his heart drop at the exact same time Veronica’s face did.

“Yeah, in kindergarten.” Veronica said, and JD recognized this was her trying-to-fix-things-and-change-the-topic voice. If he was her he’d be using his don’t-bully-my-friends fist, but whatever. She’d never been much of a violent person, anyway. “We all did.”

“We all didn’t kiss on the kickball field.” Duke piped up, seemingly excited by the gossip.

Veronica grabbed the note from the green girl’s unsuspecting hand, holding it close to herself. McNamara was sitting by her side but she didn’t try to grab the note, instead watching Veronica’s fingers clutching it with a wide eyed, deer in the headlights type of look.

“Veronica, what are you doing?” Heather Chandler demanded. Veronica just gaped; JD knew her scared look like the back of his hand, so he knew she was vulnerable. He sat and quietly rooted for her in his mind; don’t let them do it, Veronica. Stay loyal. He briefly glanced at Martha, who was standing in the lunch line completely oblivious. He hoped she’d stay that way.

“Don’t do this, okay?” Veronica pleaded, the note still clutched safely between her fingers. “Not to Martha.”

“What? It’ll give her shower-nozzle masturbation material for weeks.” Duke said with an evil smirk. JD was close to seething; Veronica had told him that Duke could be just as mean as Chandler sometimes, and he hated seeing it.

So, for once, he agreed when the red-clad leader of the group snarled “Shut up, Heather!”

Duke shrunk. Good, JD thought. “Sorry, Heather.”

“Martha’s had a thing for Ram for like twelve years now, okay?” Veronica continued her pleading. “This… this would kill her.”

“Look, you wanted to join the most powerful clique in school.” Heather Chandler started saying, her voice going up in a way that made it so obvious that she was being manipulative. JD prayed to the God he didn’t exactly believe in that Veronica would pick up on it. “This is just the kind of thing we do. This is for all of us to enjoy, but you are for some reason determined to ruin my day.” Chandler finished with a sneer in Veronica’s general direction.

She opened her palm and placed it on the table, a silently threatening invitation. “If you want to fuck with the eagles, you have to learn to fly.” The red Heather said ominously, cocking her head intimidatingly in Veronica’s way. Complete bullshit, in JD’s opinion; what eagles? They were cruel vultures, the Heathers. Forbidding, ruthless predators.

Veronica just stared at the red-clad girl. JD’s mind was going a million miles per hour; don’t do it, he silently begged her. Don’t do this to Martha. Because Veronica was right; this would crush their poor, naïve friend, who had a crush on the mean jock despite his bullying towards her over the years. Last year Veronica had been so considerate of that she refused to even tell Martha about the cow pasture incident; she hadn’t wanted to upset her. So surely she wouldn’t go along with this note prank, right?

Wrong.

JD cringed as he watched Veronica reluctantly place the note in Chandler’s expectant palm. Heather got a triumphant smirk on her face, closing her hand around the note. She handed it to Duke, who was this time ready to grab it.

“Heather, place this on Dumptruck’s lunch tray, will you?” Chandler requested. Her green-clad minion nodded obediently, and quickly scurried off to place the note on Martha’s tray. JD considered going over there and stopping her; he couldn’t just watch them do this to Martha. But he was still busy watching Veronica, with this stunned, guilty look on her face. He could barely look at her right now, but he still watched.

“Come on, Veronica.” Chandler drawled demandingly. “You used to have a sense of humor.” And with that, the red-clad blonde pranced out of the cafeteria, not having touched a single bite of food. Heather McNamara sent Veronica an apologetic look and quickly scampered after her leader, leaving the blue-dressed part of their group sitting confused in their wake.

He shouldn’t talk to her, JD tried convincing himself. He shouldn’t talk to Veronica. They haven’t spoken all week; he didn’t even think they were friends anymore. He couldn’t just go up to her now.

But he was angry with her. Oh, he was so angry with her. She just sold out Martha, the girl she knew even before she knew him. The sweetest, kindest, most bullied person in all of Westerberg high school. And she just let the Heathers give her this note; this note that would give poor Martha false hope with her rapist of a crush who didn’t even like her back.

This note that Veronica wrote.

With that in mind, JD marched to the middle of the cafeteria where Veronica was sitting. She looked up when she noticed him, and he could see in her eyes she knew what was coming.

“JD-“ she started, but he cut her off.

“What the hell, Veronica?” he demanded. Her face almost crumpled, but he was too angry to care.

Okay, that’s a lie.

“You just sold out Martha. Martha, of all people. They’re going to destroy her. Like, actually, crush her.” he stated furiously, his voice going lower the way it did when he got mad. And he barely ever got mad at her; not this mad, at least. He didn’t think he’d ever been this mad at anyone. “What the hell.” He repeated.

“JD, I didn’t mean to!” Veronica excused hurriedly. Her eyes were wide; she seemed terrified, but not of him. Of herself. “It all happened so fast, and I took the note! I’ll try stopping it, I swear. I won’t let her go to the party.” She promised, her tone begging. For what, JD wasn’t sure.

“You bullied her.” he said harshly. “You just bullied someone, Veronica.” He looked at her; he hardly could, but he did anyway. And in her wide, guilty, brown eyes, he saw a glimpse of someone else.

She wasn’t new Veronica anymore; she was his Nikki again. The little girl who got picked on so much she hid behind her best friend during gym class. The girl who spent her lunches having panic attack in the dirty school bathroom until someone found her more often than anyone should. Veronica Mouse, who wrote in her diary instead of speaking because when she spoke, people would mock her until she wished she didn’t have a mouth at all.

But then, in a blink, that little girl was gone, and in front of him stood the new Veronica again. And she was pissed.

“I didn’t bully her, JD.” She insisted, and her voice shook a little as she spoke. With anger or fear; he wasn’t sure. “God, how could you even say that? I would never bully anyone.” JD just chuckled bitterly, unable to help himself, and Veronica crossed her arms.

“Stop judging me.” She ordered for the second time that week. “You’re in no position to judge me right now.” She was looking up at him with all the determination in her eyes to almost hide the anxiety in them; almost. But he knew her better than everyone, so he noticed the way her voice trembled when she continued. “You’ve never cared what people thought. You’ve never had to hide. You don’t know what it feels like, and I do. More than I want to. And you can’t judge me, and you can’t just accuse me of bullying one of my best friends when no one’s ever bullied you in your life, okay? So stop judging me.” She finished with her voice lowering and her eyes having this ominous glare in them.

Holy shit, she was threatening him.

Veronica Sawyer, the girl who used to say she’d be there for him until the day they died, was placing her hands on her waist and using those soft, big eyes of hers to threaten him. She was feeling attacked, so she was attacking. Staring him down like a hawk. Like a hunter. Like a Heather.

“You’ve changed.” JD blurted out before he could stop himself. Veronica’s intimidating gaze didn’t falter; if anything, her eyebrows raised, as if daring him to continue. And, well, he’d never been one to turn down a dare. “You’re not you anymore, Veronica. You’ve lost yourself.” She slouched a little, probably a reflex from years of shrinking. “You’ve become this insufferable, popular kid clone who wears preppy clothes and treats people like shit.” And abandons her friends, he considered adding, but he didn’t get the chance because Veronica snapped at him.

“Look, I may dress a little different now,” she exclaimed, gesturing to her trendy blazer and too-short-for-dress-code skirt, “But I’m still me!” she insisted.

JD just watched her for a moment. Standing in the middle of the cafeteria, hands located on her cocked hips, her eyes glaring at him in rage and her eyebrows raised in a challenge. Not a single hint of the Nikki he once knew; that Nikki cried when she was angry. She exploded and she said everything that she felt, and she stood for her beliefs. She wasn’t this kind of person; the one who attacked. Who hurt people and pretended she didn’t know what she was doing.

So, he said something. Not something he was proud of, but something that needed to be said. Something he’d been holding in since last year.

“Sure about that, Heather?”

Veronica’s confident mask crumbled in front of him completely. He could see it happen, down to the second; her whole face fell. Her hands curled into fists, now digging into her blazer-clad waist. She stood just the littlest bit less straight, but she could’ve sunk to the ground with how small she suddenly seemed. Regret twisted in JD’s chest as he watched Veronica’s lips start quivering, her eyes widening with fear and hurt and pure fury.

JD had to fix this, fast. “Wait, Veronica,” he tried, “I didn’t mean-“

“Don’t.” she cut him off, voice quiet and shaky and harsh. “Don’t talk to me, JD.” And before he could say anything else, she left the cafeteria, her head bowed down and her lunch still on her tray.

JD watched her leave, feeling sick to his stomach. God, he was awful. He was a scum of a human being; he’d just said that to his best friend of the past eight years.

Or, well, who was he kidding; it was barely seven.

And the worst part was that he could see his Nikki again as he watched Veronica leave. He could see her, sad and hurt and humiliated, walking out of the cafeteria with her head bowed down and shiny tears in her eyes; only JD caused those tears. That was the last thing he’d wanted. When he was a kid, the worst scenario he could fathom was Veronica being mad at him; but now, Veronica being this hurt by him was the worst thing in the world. He’d never felt this shitty.

Scratch that; when he saw Martha talking to Veronica at the end of the day and excitedly showing her the note, and Veronica nodded at her with red-rimmed eyes and touched-up makeup, he felt even shittier.

For the rest of the day, all JD could think about was how bad he’d fucked up. He tried distracting himself; he went to 7/11 and got two slushies, he watched meaningless stuff on TV, just anything to numb himself, but nothing worked. All he could think about was Veronica; her threatening glare. Her quivering lip. The guilt and anger simultaneously on her face. He’d hurt her so much, and he hated himself. How could he have said all those things? Calling her a bully, when he knew better than anyone how badly she’d been bullied over the years and how much of an effect it had on her, so much so that she had to join a trio of color-coded bitches just to survive high school.

He wished he could talk to her; he wanted to apologize. Wanted to tell her that he was an asshole and he didn’t mean anything he said and that he was so, so sorry, and that he wanted her to take him back. To be his friend again. Some days, in the past few years, there were moments he couldn’t stomach just being her friend. When she got a crush on another guy or went on dates or just did something that made him fall for her even more, he felt like it wasn’t worth it. Like the jealousy and longing was too much; like maybe it would’ve been better if he wasn’t her friend, because he so desperately wanted to be more. But then something would happen; she’d laugh at him, or say something sarcastic, or fight for her beliefs, or stand up for Martha, and he’d realize he was so lucky to just have her in his life. Friend or more, he needed to keep Veronica Sawyer in his life, because she was the most amazing thing there.

And now he’d gone and fucked it all up; she wasn’t even his friend anymore. She was just the girl he’d spent the rest of the day thinking about, so much so that later in the night, when he heard a sports car’s loud engine roar down the street, he rushed to look out his window. He saw Veronica just leaving her house; wearing some sparkly blue thing, her short hair looking impossibly soft even from his position at the second floor window. She entered Heather Chandler’s flashy red car and JD watched it drive off, knowing his Veronica was sitting inside of it and he couldn’t talk to her.

She wasn’t so his anymore, he supposed.

It was with that depressing thought that he went to sleep that night; tried to sleep, was a more accurate way to put it. His insomnia was still going strong, even after all these years. So, after a good few hours of tossing and turning in his bed, his mind clouded with thoughts of blue clothes and big hair and guilty brown eyes, he gave up and decided to keep reading his book. He was beyond awake, anyway, and his well-loved copy of The Catcher in The Rye was much better company than his own miserable thoughts of the girl he loved and had wounded.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d sat there reading, but he was sure that what snapped him out of it was a familiar sound. A sound he hadn’t expected to hear tonight; a sound he hadn’t heard in a long while. Too long.

His window unlocking.

JD looked up from his book. If he was being honest, he half expected a particularly careless intruder to come barging in; it would’ve honestly made more sense. Because it couldn’t have been who was thinking. It just... couldn’t. right? But it wasn’t an intruder; it was her.

Veronica came toppling into his room through the window, a blur of frizzy hair and sparkly dark blue and long limbs. She landed on the floor and sat up like she belonged there; looking up at JD and giving him a dizzy kind of grin.

Holy shit, she was drunk.

“Veronica?” JD questioned lamely, putting his book down and walking the short distance towards her.

Veronica was now pulling her shoes off of her feet; yet another pair of heels she seemed itchy to get out of. JD looked to the clock on his wall as she yanked off the shoes, and it informed him it was well past two in the morning. Veronica wordlessly stood up to face him when she was barefoot, swaying a little as she did. JD couldn’t help but take in her appearance.

She was wearing this sparkly, dark blue dress; something covered in sequins that seemed like it was way too short for the Ohio cold. She didn’t even have a jacket over it; how didn’t she freeze on her way here? She seemed a little disheveled, leaves from the tree outside his house stuck into her unruly hair. And still, barefoot and in that stupid dress with a drunken daze in her eyes and shrubberies in her hair, Veronica was the most beautiful girl JD’s ever seen. Curse his fucking heart.

“Veronica, what are you doing here?” he asked. Veronica raised her finger to her lips and shushed him in an overdramatic way. He wasn’t used to that with her; she’d never been one for melodrama, but then again, he’d figured out a while ago that alcohol had weird effects on Veronica’s brain. Like causing her to giggle a lot or kiss people or climb into the window of the guy she’d had a screaming match with in the middle of the cafeteria just this afternoon.

Or breathlessly say “Heather’s going to kill me” as a conversation starter.

JD’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Not, like, kill me kill me,” Veronica clarified, and it may have been a tad stupid that she’d even had to but who was JD to doubt the queen of Westerberg, “But she’s going to destroy me. Socially.” Veronica paused, biting the bottom of her lip in thought. “And maybe physically.”

“Wait, Veronica, slow down.” JD said, trying his best to act like this was normal. This drunk, melodramatic conversation may be the only one he’d have with her for a while, if how things went down this morning was any indicator. “What happened?”

“I was at the party.” Veronica started, clearly trying hard not to slur her words. “And Martha showed up. And the Heathers were going to make fun of her, and I couldn’t let that happen. And they dressed up this pig piñata to look like her, and I got mad and I kind of… threw it. In the pool.” As she spoke, JD couldn’t help but think there she is. The girl who stood up for her beliefs. Maybe he hadn’t lost her yet; maybe alcohol brought out his Nikki, after all.

“I told Martha to go home,” Veronica continued, and something in her gaze sobered; he could see her imagining poor Martha’s hurt face. He saw it in her eyes. “But then Heather got really mad and she grabbed me, and she was spinning me, and I had a little too much to drink and… um…” Veronica looked down at her bare feet, JD’s gaze subconsciously following hers. Another childhood habit. “I puked on her shoes.” She muttered.

JD’s head shot up. “What?” he asked for the second time, his shock completely different now.

“And I told her to lick it up.” Veronica continued. JD would say she seemed bashful if it wasn’t for the familiar, uncontained grin he could see on her face; like she was proud of herself when she didn’t want to be. She definitely should’ve been, in his opinion, and probably in ninety percent of Sherwood’s population’s opinion.

“Veronica, that’s…” he tried finding the words, but as this not-so-timid Veronica swayed in front of him, the dark blue sequins on her dress slowly falling off and onto his floor, he could only come up with “You’re so drunk right now.”

Veronica shrugged noncommittally. “I vomited most of it out.” She said, but from the daze in her eyes he could tell that was only partly true.

“Anyway,” Veronica continued, “Heather told me she was going to kill me on Monday. Like, actually, in those words.” Somehow, JD could very much see that. “And my life’s kind of shit. I mean, Martha’s mad at me, and you’re mad at me,” he didn’t even have time to jump in and apologize before she kept talking, “and I kind of hate myself, and somehow the only person who’s my friend right now is Heather McNamara, which is weird and kind of ironic, but anyhow.” Veronica looked up at him, big brown eyes confident as they gazed into his. “I have thirty hours to live. And I wanted to ask you if you wanted to spend them getting freaky.”

If JD had a drink right now, he’d spit it out.

He blinked, not sure he’d heard her right; maybe she had been slurring. “What?”

“Having sex.” She clarified, still watching him expectantly. “Like, you and me, we’d be having-“

“Yeah, yeah.” JD cut her off. “I get it, just, um,” he paused, trying to come up with a less lame way to finish his sentence that he hadn’t used three times already, but still only managing to blurt out a stunned “What?”

“Look,” Veronica started, the confidence in her voice shocking him. This was the same girl who used to squeal when he’d use the words ass. “I want this. I want you. I’ve wanted this for a while.” JD barely had time to process her words; the words he’d been wanting from her for so long.

“And it’s either you say yes,” Veronica continued in a matter-of-fact tone that was damn near driving him insane, “and we do this, and probably avoid each other for the rest of the year, or you say no, and we don’t do it…” she trailed off, and he could see the drunken gears in her currently questionable mind working. “And we probably avoid each other for the rest of the year.” she settled eventually.

JD could only gape at her.

He wanted this, he wanted her, so bad. He’d been wanting her for years; but not like this. He wanted her like this, don’t get him wrong, more than he’d ever wanted anyone. But he didn’t want to be her bad, drunken decision. He wanted her to love him. Dumb and overemotional, he knew, but he couldn’t help it. JD had been in love with this girl, with his Nikki, the girl he’d spent the past few months mourning the loss of, for years. He didn’t want to be a hastily made choice; if she wanted them, he wanted all of them.

But then she walked closer to him.

She walked even closer to him in his little room, her bare feet making their short way over to him on the hardwood floor, and looked up into his eyes.

“Either way, I’m a dead girl walking.” She stated. This killing metaphor was really getting away from her, but he didn’t have the time or the mind to tell her that. Because she reached backwards, and in what was admittedly a very clumsily non-seductive movement (but it worked on JD nonetheless), unzipped the back of her dress. “Tonight I’m yours.”

He could see the straps of the dress falling just the slightest bit off of her shoulders; she made no effort to move them, instead looking up at him expectantly. “Veronica, you’re drunk.” He reminded her, though he had to swallow because he could currently see the straps of her bra and it was black lace and making him crazy. But he couldn’t; not like this. He wanted love. He wanted his Nikki, not the Nikki that came out of regular Veronica when she was drunk.

“I was drunker when I kissed you.” Veronica said in a low voice, the look in her eyes letting him know she knew exactly what she was doing.

Oh, screw love.

He grabbed her by the waist. He was a little alarmed by his own urgency and quickly realized that he should probably give her time; for all he knew, she was just as inexperienced as him. So he spent a few seconds not really doing anything; just holding her by the waist, gazing into her eyes.

“Is this oka-“ he tried, but before he had time to finish his sentence, he was being pulled down by his shoulders and his mouth was on hers.

She was just as urgent as he felt, but fully unapologetic for it; their second kiss was so unlike their first it was almost laughable. While their first kiss, at fifteen, was sweet and slow and tipsy and awkward, this kiss was the complete opposite. It wasn’t sweet; Veronica’s lips moved against his in fast, hot, urgent movements. Her hands were firm on his shoulders, keeping him in place as if he’d even try running away. It was as if she’d been holding this urge in for as long as he’d been. Her tongue started making its way into his mouth probably faster than appropriate, but he didn’t mind; she tasted good. Like at fifteen, all warm and enchanting. This time he could taste quite the amount of alcohol on her, as well, and he was seriously starting to doubt her whole “I vomited it all out” comment.

He broke away from her. “Are you sure you’re sober enough for this?” he knew she wasn’t fully sober, not by a long shot. But he didn’t want her to be in a state of clouded enough judgment to do something she didn’t fully want.

Veronica, apparently, was having none of it, because she actually rolled her eyes before using her hands, still etched firmly on his shoulders, to push him to his knees on the ground.

He looked up at her, hands having left her waist and slowly slid down to her exposed thighs. She was gazing down at him full of confidence, hands still keeping him where she wanted.

“I’m sober enough.” She stated, and he wasn’t sure if the sparkle in her big eyes meant that she was unexpectedly lustful or definitely not sober enough. “Come on, JD.” She breathed, now crouching down to his level. Yeah, she was probably just as inexperienced as him. “I’m on the pill, and I’m pissed, and I look very hot in this dress.” He couldn’t help but agree; the flimsy fabric with the sequins falling from it made her look even more stunning than she usually was. Popular girls knew how to pick dresses, he had to give them that.

“Make this whole town disappear.” She ordered, her hands making their way to rest on his chest. His eyes followed them; they were a little cold, since he was wearing the thinnest pajama shirt he owned to combat the Ohio cold but still not sweat himself to death. “Keep the world locked out; you hate it, I hate it. Just make it all go away, JD. For tonight.” Her words were pleading, but her tone was anything but. In fact, he’d never heard her sound more assured or in control. She knew what she wanted, and she wanted him. Maybe just for a night, maybe just to forget, but he once again realized that he’d take what he could get with her. If he was lucky enough to have her in his life again, just for tonight, he’d make the most of it.

So, he grabbed the hands resting on his chest and gave them a squeeze, at the same time inching himself a tad closer to her on the floor. His knees hurt, but he couldn’t care less. “That works for me.” He announced, his voice soft and hissing. Veronica’s eyes sparkled even further, pure excitement and hunger masking the fear he could still see etched behind them.

“You’re beautiful.” She breathed before pulling him against her by the fabric of his shirt, taking charge again.

He let her be in charge. For the rest of the night, he was at her will; doing what she wanted. She was the one who decided they’d get off the floor; she was the one who jumped into his arms; she was the one who, when he set her down on his mattress, climbed on top of him like she belonged there, kissing him all the while. And he let her. Seeing her in charge like this… it was better than he could’ve ever imagined. He was jelly in her hands, bending down to her will. She told him to slap her, and he did. She told him to pull hair, and he yanked until the mane on her head was mussed and unruly. She decided when they kissed, she guided his hands to rip her dress off and leave her in the black lace bra he’d seen earlier; it was better than he could’ve envisioned. She tugged at his shirt to pull it off and he obeyed; his pants were discarded seconds later. He only took charge when she was rocking against him and he couldn’t take it anymore, falling back onto the bed with her satisfied smirk in front of his face. Then he took the lead; he moved faster, the way he realized she liked, and it didn’t take long for her to fall with her head on his chest, biting on his bare shoulder to muffle a scream when she reached her climax. She laughed at the pained whimper he let out; same old Nikki.

They fell asleep, eventually. The cold outside was forgotten since they were both so warm under his blanket, tangled up in each other and in the messed up sheets. Veronica slept with her head on JD’s chest, her hair tickling his skin, their legs intertwined. She fit him like a puzzle piece, like a part of him he couldn’t separate from if he tried.

And yet, he couldn’t fall asleep.

JD should’ve easily fallen asleep by now; he was exhausted, and giddy, and his favorite person was sleeping soundly in his arms. It should’ve been so easy to sleep like this, with the feeling of Veronica against him. But he couldn’t, because he knew it wouldn’t last. She wasn’t in this, not the way he was; he was just a one-time thing for her. Something to help her forget her popularity troubles and regret tomorrow. And she was probably right about the whole avoiding each other thing, because he was sure he wouldn’t have the courage to try talking to her at school on Monday, and he’d probably be subjected to nothing more than a polite hallway wave. Tonight had been his last night with her, for forever; maybe she hadn’t lost herself, not like he’d thought, but he’d lost her. And that was just as bad. He just hoped he’d get to say goodbye tomorrow; have her grin at him again, maybe even giggle. Awaken to the feeling of her tucked against him one last time.

But when he finally woke up late the next morning, she was gone; the only signs that she’d even been there were the blue sequins littering the floor of JD’s room, his clothes on the ground and the pinch in his heart.

Chapter Text

The first time Veronica realized she’d have to live without her best friend, she was eighteen years old.

Well, almost.

Veronica’s never thought she’d have to live without JD. She’d always been a planner; every detail of her life was fully calculated in her mind by the time she was eleven, and over the years of her overthinking she added a plan B and a plan C and whatever she needed. But in none of those carefully thought-out plans, not even in any of the anxious worst-case-scenarios that came during midterms or finals or just moments of crippling self-doubt that made it hard to breathe, did she imagine her future without JD.

She was sure he’d always be there. When they were younger, they’d fully planned on making it out of this town together; going to college close to each other, her in Harvard and him somewhere near. Living in some big city, maybe sharing an apartment. Those were childhood dreams, and while she was ambitious, grown-up Veronica was still a realist, and she knew their lives might turn out a bit differently than they’d planned. Still, whenever she thought about her future, she knew JD would somehow be in it. He’d been a constant in her life since she was nine years old; someone she saw every day, someone she knew she always had. But that all of changed exactly four months, three weeks and four days ago.

And yes, she was counting.

She could’ve fixed it, probably. She messed it all up the first time when she’d exploded on him that day at the cafeteria; the day he finally caused her to face what a jerk she’d become. She’d almost lost herself, being friends with the Heathers, and he was just helping her see that, like a good friend was supposed to do. Even when they were barely friends anymore. She could’ve gone to his house later that day and apologize; finally abandon the Heathers, have more movie nights with Martha, start keeping her window unlocked when she went to sleep again. She could’ve so easily done that.

And instead, she’d had to go and fuck him.

She shouldn’t have gone to that godforsaken homecoming party. That was the start of all her troubles, basically. She went there, and she shooed Martha away with no explanation, and she drank way too much and she vomited on Heather Chandler. Even in her drunken state, she could tell JD was amused when she’d told him; he hated Chandler more than she did, sometimes. Still, Veronica knew she’d fucked up. Well, at least it was her way out of the Heathers, for good. It’s been a fun year and a little, but no one does something like puke on Heather Chandler’s designer shoes without consequences. Probably disastrous consequences, ones that Veronica had been terrified of.

So terrified, in fact, that the only thing her drunken mind could’ve thought of doing was break the lock on the house across the street’s window and demand of her best friend and the guy she’d been in love with for god knows how long now to sleep with her. And he did.

And it was good.

It’s not like Veronica had anything to compare him to; she’d been the only virgin Heather at that time. The other three girls liked making fun of her for that, Chandler and Duke in their demeaning, Look-At-Virgin-White-Veronica type of way, and even Heather McNamara gave a friendly jab every once in a while. And ironically enough, Veronica’s innocent status was taken the exact day she’d untangled herself from the web that was the Heathers.

Veronica, in her life, had heard plenty of first time stories. About it being awkward or confusing or just something you needed to get out of the way. But with JD, it was nothing like that. It was burning and passionate, and despite her lack of experience, Veronica could just tell that it counted as good. The way he let her do whatever she wanted, and the way he took the lead when he figured out what it was… she’d never felt so in control of anything before, and he just let her. It had been an exhilarating night of confidence and pleasure for Veronica, and it was with her best friend in the entire world.

But then she’d fallen asleep.

It hadn’t been hard for her to fall asleep, not with JD’s arms around her and her head on his chest. His touch has always had that effect on her. But it was what came after she dozed off; she had a nightmare. A bad, bad nightmare.

She was waking up, right there in JD’s room, to see the smirking face of a familiar girl in red. The last time she’d seen her, Heather had been covered in vomit, but now she was the picture of deadly beauty in the same crimson dress she’d worn to the party and a red scrunchie tying her curls together.

“Hello, slut.” She’d bitten out.

“Heather,” Veronica gasped, “how did you get in here?” she’d asked in her dream, sitting up in the bed with nothing but her bra on.

“I’m like oxygen.” Chandler had gloated, vicious even in Veronica’s subconscious. “I’m everywhere!” after a beat of nasty laughter, Chandler continued.

“Sleeping with psycho trench coat kid, Veronica? Really?” she asked maliciously. “I will crucify you for this!” the evil gloating in her voice had probably been the main reason Veronica hadn’t realized she was dreaming. “Everyone’s going to know that sweet little Veronica is nothing but a dirty whore.” Chandler finished with a satisfied sneer.

“Why are you so determined to hurt me?” Veronica asked, confused. She’d known Heather was a bitch, but for a moment there, she’d really thought they were friends. She wouldn’t do something this bad to her own friend, right? Even if they were ex-friends.

“Because I can.” Heather hissed spitefully. “You’ll see; on Monday your reputation is done for, Sawyer. No one’s going to touch you now; not even Martha Dumptruck. Though I don’t think you needed me to push her away, did you? You did that all yourself.” The truth behind Heather’s nasty words made Veronica nauseous. “In fact,” Heather continued, “I might wreck you so much even your psychotic little boy toy won’t come near you. Though he won’t have much of a choice, considering what I’m going to do to him.” The demon queen finished with smug smirk.

Veronica’s heart dropped, and she felt her whole face contort into pure fear. “Heather, leave him alone.” She pleaded. “You can destroy me, I don’t care, just leave JD out of it. Please.”

Heather simply shrugged, the movement poised and lethally elegant. “I might.” She said, her tone letting Veronica know that she’ll hurt him regardless. “Or I might not. Either way, you’re going to be all alone.” Heather drawled, arrogant. “Both your loser friends can’t stand to look at you, and no amount of begging will you get you back with us. You’ll be standing in the cafeteria on Monday, all alone, and everyone will be watching.” Just as Heather finished her gloating words, a crowd of Veronica’s classmates appeared behind her. She gulped, anxiety burning in her stomach even in her sleeping state.

“It’ll be so very.” Heather announced, before breaking into hawkish laughter. In the meantime, the chorus of the students behind Veronica started repeating Heather’s words; very, very, very, they sang. Veronica shut her eyes tight in fear, begging for the red Heather’s militant laughter to stop…

And then she’d woken up.

Her eyes had flown open in a panic, her chest tight and her stomach churning. The only thing that managed to calm her down was JD’s arms wrapped around her-

Oh no.

Veronica sat up in the bed, breaking free of her and JD’s tangled heap. It wasn’t like she’d forgotten their night; she meant what she’d told him, she’d vomited out quite a bit of the alcohol in her system before their little adventure. It wasn’t like she hadn’t wanted him; she’d been in love with him for a long while, probably longer than she was even aware of. It was just that alcohol had a tendency to make her impulse control drop to zero. But now she was sober, and hungover, and was realizing she’d made a huge mistake. She’d just slept with her not-so-best-friend in the worst timing she possibly could’ve. Not that there was a good time to sleep with your not-so-best-friend, but if there was, it certainly wasn’t this.

Veronica had been in quite a dangerous situation on the social front. Heather Chandler was brutal, and Veronica knew better than anyone she wouldn’t stop until she got what she deemed was appropriate revenge. While she knew JD didn’t care much about his reputation, she also knew that if they kept sleeping together (started dating?) he’d get pulled into her mess. If he dated the traitor of the Heathers, especially being the aloof nobody he already was, he’d finally start getting bullied. No amount of beating people up could make them scared of you when you’re at such a disadvantage, hanging out with a former Heather. Veronica knew that Heather in her dream had been right, especially since she’d said similar things at that godforsaken homecoming party; no one will touch her now, because Heather will make sure of it. She wouldn’t hesitate to ruin the life of anyone who got near the girl who betrayed her; she was dramatic like that. And ruining lives, for Chandler, wasn’t just spreading rumors; it could mean actual, physical damage, being bullied by what in a roundabout way would be the entire school and, though Heather had never confirmed it, Veronica knew she’d tempered with grades for people who pissed her off enough. She was nicknamed the demon queen of high school for a reason, after all, and Veronica couldn’t let her do that to him. Not to JD.

But social ruin was hardly her biggest worry. Veronica wouldn’t admit this to anyone but herself, but she was scared of starting something with JD. Terrified, in fact. He’d been her best friend for so long; she couldn’t fathom trying to date him and then breaking up. While it was breaking her heart, leaving him like this, knowing she wouldn’t be speaking to him any time soon, she couldn’t risk dating the guy she’d been so, so in love with for years now and have it not work out. She loved him too much to lose him that way; though, she figured she was losing him this way, too. She was just protecting the feelings she had for him. Maybe she’d lost him, but she couldn’t risk losing her love for him.

So, she’d left.

The clock on JD’s wall read six thirty-eight as Veronica got herself back into her uncomfortable dress and grabbed her heels (she couldn’t be bothered strapping them on). She looked at JD one last time, making sure he was asleep, before she opened his unlocked window and climbed down, holding in her tears until she was safely in her room.

And she hadn’t spoken to him since.

The next couple of weeks were basically hell for Veronica. She avoided JD like the plague, and it wasn’t hard because she got the feeling he was avoiding her, too. Heather had been right; she had no one to sit with at lunch for the first week or so, with Martha only giving her sad glances in the hallway and refusing to talk to her. Veronica didn’t blame her, not even close, but it still hurt. At least she saw her sit with JD during lunch; they weren’t alone, and it seemed like Heather wasn’t interested in destroying them. Veronica hoped it would stay like that.

She barely even registered Heather’s bullying; it wasn’t much different than the way people used to treat her when she was younger. Mostly ignoring her, muttering hurtful things when she walked by in a volume loud enough for her to hear, occasionally cornering her for threatening. Mostly the Heathers did that; or, well, most of them. While Veronica saw McNamara sitting with her friends at lunch, when they’d come harass Veronica, the yellow-clad girl would suddenly disappear. All in all, it wasn’t the worst thing they could’ve done. Maybe Veronica had been right; maybe the red-wearing queen of Westerberg had a few bones of loyalty in her perfect body.

Veronica had gone through school like a ghost for a good two weeks or so, distracting herself by studying and getting herself fully ready for college applications. That was the perk of having no friends, she supposed; more time to study properly. She hadn’t had this much free time in at least a year.

Veronica’s lack of human interaction changed after exactly sixteen days. She was sitting under a tree in the courtyard, the place where she’d started spending her lunch breaks since sitting alone in the cafeteria made her chest feel tight, eating her sandwich and balancing a book on her thighs. She was so engrossed in it that she didn’t notice little yellow heels approaching her spot in careful steps; in fact, she didn’t notice until the person was standing right in front of her, a lunchbox with a sunflower pattern clutched between their fingers.

“Can I sit here?” Heather McNamara asked tentatively.

Veronica looked up in surprise at the sound of her voice; they haven’t spoken in a while. “Um… yeah.” She said hesitantly. “Sure.”

Heather sat down next to Veronica, leaning back on the tree. Veronica noticed her leg was bouncing; clearly, she was nervous.

“Did Chandler send you?” Veronica couldn’t help asking.

“No.” Heather shook her head, looking down at her tiny skirt. “I… I don’t think she’ll be sending me to do anything anymore, actually.” She said, her voice small but not insecure.

Veronica closed the book on her lap and turned her head to look at Heather. She was seemingly cowering behind her mountain of blonde curls, a stressed move Veronica knew better than anyone. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Heather started, still intently looking down, “after everything that happened with you, I was… kind of confused. I realized that in, like, a year, you were a better friend to me than the friends I’ve had since elementary school. And that if they could just kick someone as nice as you out of the group, just like that, I don’t want to be friends with them anymore.” Heather confessed, gaining enough confidence by the end to turn her head towards Veronica. “So… I told Heather I didn’t want to hang out with them anymore. And I, um, I kind of told them to suck it.”

“You what?” Veronica couldn’t help but grin. Who knew, the sweet Heather McNamara would rebel someday.

A small, bashful smile spread on Heather’s face. “It didn’t work out that great.” She muttered, though she still seemed proud of herself. “But it doesn’t matter. I just… I really missed you, Veronica, and I was hoping we could maybe be friends again?” Heather asked carefully, looking up at Veronica with cautious hope shining in her eyes.

Veronica didn’t hesitate. “I missed you too, Heather.” She admitted, watching as the other girl smiled in relief. “And of course we can.”

Being friends with Heather didn’t fix everything, not that Veronica had expected it to, but it made it a little better. She had someone to sit with at lunch, someone who greeted her good morning every day. And Heather was finally free to be her bubbly self without anyone shutting her down, like Veronica had always thought she deserved.

They were getting closer, too; they weren’t best friends when Veronica was with the Heathers, nothing like that, but now they were bonding like they never have before. Nothing was perfect, but having a good friend by her side made school much less of a hell for Veronica. People were starting to leave them alone, too, resorting to ignoring them without the rude gossiping; the Heathers clearly kept their loyalty to McNamara, and while Veronica’s bullying was subsiding only as a result, she was still grateful.

About a month and a half after Veronica and Mac became friends again, Heather didn’t come to school. She’d called Veronica the night before and said that she was home sick with some seasonal cold, so Veronica spent her lunch break under her and Mac’s usual tree by herself. It wasn’t terrible; she had a book to keep her company. Still, she’d gotten used to having a lunch partner again.

She couldn’t really get into the book, so at some point, she started looking around the courtyard instead while eating her sandwich. A familiar, light pink sweater caught her eye; it was Martha, hurrying her way through the yard while protectively clutching a lunchbox. Veronica’s heart pinched. She kept watching her old friend, wondering why she was alone, when two familiar boys came up from behind the oblivious Martha.

Shit.

Veronica started watching more intently as Kurt and Ram, those two disgusting assholes, started talking to Martha. She didn’t hear exactly what they were saying, but she could hear them taunting her; mockingly asking her why she was in such a rush, calling her Martha Dumptruck. Veronica wanted to help, but Martha had been ignoring her polite waving in the hallway and apology attempts for a good two months, so she didn’t know if that would end so well. Still, when Ram made a move to grab Martha’s lunchbox, Veronica couldn’t do nothing. She shot up from her spot under the tree and hurried towards the trio in the speed of lightning.

“Leave her alone.” She ordered sternly when they all still had their backs to her. “Right now.” Martha’s face was full of surprise as she noticed Veronica, and Veronica wished it wasn’t. When they were younger, it was the norm for her to protect her friend like this; she was Martha’s JD, in that protective against bullies way. That hadn’t been a thing for a while, though.

“And why would we listen to you, Veronica?” Ram tried taunting her, still holding Martha’s lunchbox where she couldn’t reach it. Veronica squared her shoulders; she’d gotten better at handling him, but when he was being demeaning like this she couldn’t help the flashbacks of the cow pasture entering her mind.

“Yeah, you’re a nobody now.” Kurt backed him up. “You don’t scare us. And you don’t even have shadow boy to protect you anymore.” The mention of JD made Veronica’s stomach drop, but she hid it. Martha was giving her this It’s-Fine-Leave-It-Alone kind of look, the one she gave when it definitely wasn’t fine, so that was all the more motivation for Veronica.

She took a deep breath. “Because I may be a nobody now,” she said in as calm of a voice as she could muster, “but I still kicked both of you in the mud. And in regards to JD, while he may not protect me, if he knew what you guys were doing to Martha you’d both have missing teeth.” She didn’t even doubt her statement; JD had always been fiercely protective of his friends, and while she wasn’t one of them anymore, she knew that habit hadn’t stopped. “So I suggest you give Martha her lunchbox and leave her alone.” She finished as confidently as she could.

The boys muttered “whatever” under their breaths as they handed Martha her pink lunchbox, and Veronica thought she heard one of them mutter “bitch” as they were walking away, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Instead, she turned to Martha.

“Are you okay?” she asked carefully.

Martha nodded, albeit weakly. “Thanks, Veronica.” She murmured. Veronica just nodded, ready to go back to her tree, when Martha’s soft voice stopped her.

“I’m sorry that I’ve been ignoring you.” She apologized, her voice as sweet as ever. “I think I just needed some time to process everything. You’ve… changed.” She said the words so hesitantly Veronica’s heart broke.

“Martha, I’m sorry.” She said honestly. “I really messed things up. I shouldn’t have joined the Heathers, it was a mistake, and you have nothing to be sorry about. I would’ve ignored me, too, with the way I’ve been acting.” Veronica confessed, finally saying what she wished she could say to Martha for months now.

The other girl nodded. “I know you’re friends with Heather McNamara now,” Martha said carefully, her voice quiet, “and that you don’t really need me anymore, but do you think… we could be friends again?” the question was wary, but there was a glimmer of hope in Martha’s tone.

“Martha,” Veronica started, “I will never not need you.” The small smile that spread on Martha’s face made Veronica relived while also making her heart pinch; Martha really had to start realizing how amazing she was. “And if you forgive me, I’d love nothing more than to be your friend again.”

Martha nodded. “I forgive you.” She said, and Veronica as usual could find no trace of bitterness in her tone.

She threw her arms around her friend, hugging her close; they’d missed each other like crazy, and Veronica wanted to hit herself for being such a bad person that Martha Dunnstock had given her the silent treatment for two months. The sweet, ever forgiving Martha.

“I have so much to catch you up on.” Veronica laughed as they finally broke apart, giddy with relief. She felt like a giant weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

“Like what?” Martha asked with shiny eyes, ever adorably curious.

“Well, I don’t think I’ve told you why JD and I aren’t talking anymore…”

In the next few months, Veronica finally had stability in her life again. She was friends with Martha and Heather; the two girls surprisingly got along swimmingly, so they became kind of a trio. Having two good friends by her side made Veronica so much happier; they even dulled the ache that JD had left in her heart. Not fully, though.

Veronica didn’t think she’d ever fully stop missing him, if she was honest. She kept hoping it’d get easier, but it never did; she still felt the same pinch in her heart when she’d see him leave his house in the morning and walk the other way to avoid him, or see him reading alone at lunch, as usual unbothered, now that Martha was sitting with them. He’d been her best friend for so long, a constant in her life. It was pathetic, but Veronica had never thought she’d live without him. And now that she was, she had to admit it was a beyond sucky way to live. And it was all because of her.

It’s been a while since Veronica’s life finally started getting on track, and it was now March. March fourth, to be exact; precisely a week before Veronica’s eighteenth birthday. And she was only dreading it. She was beyond excited to finally be a legal adult, don’t get her wrong, but she knew it would feel weird celebrating without him.

Her and JD’s milestones have always been intertwined with each other, and when they were kids, they often dreamed about turning eighteen. JD was excited to be out of his mom’s control so he’d be allowed to get a motorcycle; he claimed it was the first thing he’d do at eighteen. Veronica didn’t tell him that he would probably not have the money for that, and instead dreamed on about moving away as soon as she could, finally graduating high school and being valedictorian. Those were all childhood dreams, but even in those, Veronica and JD always said they’d still be friends at eighteen. He promised he’ll take her on his bike, she promised to mention him in her graduation speech.

If eleven-year-old them knew how they turned out, avoiding each other on the street and ignoring each other in school hallways, they’d probably pass out from shock. And Veronica wouldn’t blame their younger versions, not one bit.

So, even a week before her birthday, Veronica wasn’t excited. She really should’ve been, but she wasn’t. That didn’t stop her current friends’ excitement, though; one thing Martha and Heather had in common was their adorable eagerness to make people happy, and this time was no different.

“So, Ronnie,” Heather asked one day at lunch, “Are you doing anything for your birthday?” Martha turned towards Veronica, excited at her answer.

Veronica just shrugged. “I don’t think I am.” She admitted as casually as she could.

Martha frowned. “Why not? You’re turning eighteen!” she reminded her, secondhand excitement sparkling in her eyes behind her pink glasses.

“I know, I know.” Veronica said, still trying to keep her casual façade. If the Heathers had taught her one thing, it was how to hide her feelings like a pro. “I just don’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

“Maybe I can throw you a party!” Heather brightened. Veronica gave her a look. “Not a big party, I promise,” Heather assured, “it’s just that my mom has this baker friend who asks you to tell her about the person celebrating and then makes the most amazing birthday cakes, with all these tiers and fillings-“

“Mac, that’s very sweet,” Veronica cut her off, chuckling slightly at her friend’s enthusiasm, “but I don’t want a party.” Heather frowned, and Veronica felt a little bad so she grabbed her hand and quickly gave it a squeeze.

“Your birthday’s on a Friday, right?” Martha confirmed, and Veronica nodded. “Then maybe we can all hang out? Nothing big; maybe go to the movies, get something to eat, have a sleepover?” Martha suggested. Veronica, as always, was beyond grateful for her.

“Yeah, that sounds great.” She said, and genuinely meant it; she’d come to love her hangouts with Martha and Heather, and having one on her birthday would be a nice way to celebrate without adding salt to her JD wound. “Heather? You in?”

Heather was still frowning intently, but she turned her head towards Veronica. The look on her face was confusingly thoughtful. “Can I bring the cake to the sleepover?” she asked finally.

Veronica laughed at that, a good-natured grin on her face. “I’d love nothing more.”

On the morning of her eighteenth birthday, the day marking her legal adulthood, Veronica woke up and cried.

She couldn’t help it; she tried not to, she really did, but there was a persistent ache in her heart, like her JD wound had been reopened and filled with salt water. There she was; eighteen. The age she’d always dreamed of. She planned to finally leave this town when she turned eighteen, her best friend by her side. But her best friend wasn’t even talking to her anymore, and she’d lost him completely. She started regretting her choices from months ago, regretting them deeply; maybe it would’ve been better if they’d dated and broken up. If she’d lost her love for him. Maybe then it wouldn’t hurt this much, spending the first birthday morning in her life without her neighbor across the street knocking on her door with his schoolbag and a gift.

Still, Veronica tried her best to plaster on a smile for the rest of the day. Her parents didn’t seem to notice she wasn’t herself; she ate her annual chocolate chip birthday pancakes with as much excitement as she could muster, and she opened all her gifts. Her parents always went beyond overboard every birthday, getting her a big gift she knew about and then a bunch of little ones. She’d always thought they were doing too much, but the gifts were somehow always perfect.

This year, her big gift was a polaroid camera; she’d wanted one since she was a kid, and she figured that now would be a perfect time. She could document her senior year memories so she’d have something to look back on in college.

She felt a little bittersweet as she held the camera in her hands; this would probably be her last birthday morning at home. While Veronica didn’t like Sherwood, not even a little, the thought of finally leaving it behind for good was starting to catch up to her. Still, everything in her life was changing, anyway; it was as good a year as it could’ve been to leave it all behind.

She brought the camera to school in her backpack, too excited to leave it at home. She didn’t pull it out; she wasn’t an idiot, she knew it would somehow break. Still, before she left for school, she stood on her doorstep and took a quick picture of the house across the street. She stored it in the pocket of her blazer, since even without her popular status she’d found out she quite liked the preppy style. She didn’t look at the photo all day, but it was practically burning a hole in the pocket near her heart.

Martha and Heather were waiting by Veronica’s locker before first period, and when she arrived, they sang happy birthday in the sweetest, most awful voices she’d ever heard. She laughed and thanked them, but they could clearly see something was going on.

“Ronnie? Is everything okay?” Martha questioned her carefully as Veronica placed some things in her locker.

“Yeah, you look a little off.” Heather added, voice full of sympathy.

Veronica cleared her throat. “I’m fine.” She insisted. “Just… big age, you know?” that wasn’t all there was to it, not by a long shot, but Heather and Martha nodded like they bought it. Veronica knew they didn’t.

The rest of the day went by normally, and Veronica didn’t see a glimpse of JD. She wondered if he was even at school today; maybe he’d decided to ditch, or he was sick. Then she hated herself for caring. She had to get over him, and she wasn’t making it any easier on herself.

Her hangout with Martha and Heather later that night finally managed to cheer Veronica up. She dressed up nicely, as the three girls agreed to do; she wore a short floral dress, dark blue of course, with a blue pair of converse, a red scarf and her trusty leather jacket, since it was still a bit cold outside. The girls all walked together, Heather and Martha coming to knock at her door right around six with the Heather holding a cake box so big in comparison to her tiny self Veronica almost laughed. The cake was put safely in the fridge, but not without a few close calls; even with three people, lugging around the giant cake was not an easy job.

Veronica got to pick the movie, naturally, and there was some romcom showing that she really liked, so they went to watch that. It was beyond trashy, but it was fun. The three girls munched on popcorn and talked through the whole thing; so much so that towards the end of the movie, a theater worker came to tell them to quiet down. They apologized, but their hushed snickering didn’t stop until the end of the movie. When they left the theater, they could finally cackle.

Their good mood carried all the way to dinner; the best burger place in town, right by the movie theater. The girls ordered too much food and threw crumpled napkins and onion rings at each other in between fits of giggles. When they got up to leave a French fry fell out of Heather’s neat curls, sending all three girls into hysterics. Veronica could barely remember her somber mood from that morning; it helped that she was dragging her camera around, having already finished a good chunk of her film with photos of food and popcorn and her smiling friends and herself. She couldn’t wait to glue the photos into the new notebook her parents had gotten her; a photo journal, they called it. Veronica loved the idea.

She was still happy when their trio reached her house, smiling and laughing. But when she was just standing on her doorstep, sticking her key in the lock, a voice wiped the smile off of her face completely. A voice she could recognize anywhere.

“Veronica!” someone called.

She turned around, and there he was; Jason Dean.

The boy she’d been missing like crazy for months. The boy who hadn’t spoken to her and she couldn’t blame him. He was standing at her front yard, his hands behind his back, looking almost as scared as she felt.

“We’re going to go get the cake ready.” Martha told her gently, opening the door and leading a slightly protesting Heather inside. Veronica just nodded, still fixed on the boy in front of her.

“JD…” she breathed when her friends were inside the house. She didn’t know what to say. But she did take a few paces towards him, stepping off her doorstep so she was standing in her front yard; not quite close to him, but close enough.

“Happy birthday.” JD said cautiously, his foot tapping against the ground. Veronica knew a nervous habit when she saw one; still, she wasn’t much better, picking at her nails as she stood in front of him and refused to look into his eyes.

“Um, thank you.” She replied feebly, for the lack of anything else to say.

JD tentatively removed his hands from behind his back; he was holding a rectangular package, wrapped somewhat messily in green paper. Veronica looked at it, curiosity eating at her beating heart. She wasn’t even ashamed to admit it; the mere sight of JD could send her heart pounding like a hammer.

“I, um,” JD started, watching the package like it was the most interesting thing in the world, “I got you a gift. For your birthday.” He stretched out his hand, the parcel clutched in it, and Veronica felt her eyes widen. She certainly hadn’t been expecting that.

“Oh, wow.” She said lamely, carefully taking the gift while making sure their fingers don’t touch. “You really didn’t have to, you know.” She couldn’t help saying as she inspected the package that was now in her hands.

“I wanted to.” JD stated, and she couldn’t trace anything but truth in his tone. It made her heart beat even faster; he’d always been that way, more caring than anyone could think he’d be. More than she deserved.

Still, Veronica carefully ripped away the hastily handled wrapping paper. It wasn’t hard; it really wasn’t wrapped that well, which made her suspect it was JD himself who’d wrapped it. When the green paper was off it revealed a notebook.

Not just any notebook; probably the prettiest notebook Veronica had ever seen. Its cover was dark blue and made of leather, the feel of it rough but beyond soft in Veronica’s fingers. A piece of ribbon stuck out of the pages, bright red and standing out against the blue. Veronica carefully opened the notebook, and even the pages were breathtaking; faded and old-looking in the best way, a little flower doodle at the top left of each one. When she closed it up again, still busy inspecting, she noticed something threaded on the back cover. There, in the middle, in thin golden string, her initials were threaded; V.S. She actually gasped when she noticed, running her fingers over the gentle string.

“You go through diaries like a maniac,” JD explained bashfully, watching as Veronica observed the notebook with awe, “and I figured this one could last you at least until college.”

“JD… it’s beautiful.” Veronica breathed, running the red ribbon bookmark between her fingers. “I… I don’t know what to say.” And it was true; Veronica was truly, utterly speechless.

“Then can I say something?” JD asked, his tone so careful it sounded terrified. Veronica looked up from her new journal and nodded, sensing something serious was coming; still, she didn’t look into his eyes.

“Veronica, I’m so sorry.” JD started. “I was a jerk to you for a really long time, and you didn’t deserve it at all. You were making friends, and I was just being a jealous asshole…” he took a breath, and Veronica could tell this was something he’d wanted to say for a while. “And then I slept with you while you were drunk, which is a whole different kind of messed up, and I don’t even know how to start apologizing for that because it was so wrong of me to-“

“JD.” Veronica cut him off, her voice shaking. It didn’t surprise her. “It’s not like you took advantage of me. I wasn’t that drunk.”

“You were drunk enough.” JD insisted, and Veronica could tell he’d been torturing himself about this. “And then you left, which obviously means you didn’t want me, so I’m really sorry I took advantage of the way you were the night before.”

Veronica took a few moments, trying to calculate her words carefully. Still, all she could come up with was a blurted out “Are you kidding me?” JD flinched, if only a little; clearly, she’d come off harsher than she’d meant to.

“JD, you think I didn’t want you?” Veronica asked. The concept was foreign to her mind; she could think of a thousand and seventeen reasons he wouldn’t want her, but no reason at all for him to think she didn’t want him. Absolutely none.

Still, he was gaping at her now, his face unreadable. “You wanted me?”

“I’ve wanted you for so long.” Veronica admitted. Surprisingly, it wasn’t hard. She’d been needing this confession out of her; so, she kept going. “I don’t even know how long; it became a fact to me, at some point. The sky is blue, Sherwood is a shithole, Veronica Sawyer wants Jason Dean.” Loves, her brain corrected her. Veronica Sawyer loves Jason Dean.

“JD, I broke into your house and asked you to have sex with me.” She almost laughed at the absurdity of it all, barely registering the fact that she was yelling it in the middle of the street; once again, if her eleven-year-old self could’ve seen her now.

“I just…” she started, willing herself to finally say it out loud. She hadn’t even told Martha and Heather this part of the story. “I ran away because I was scared.” As always, admitting her secrets to him seemed like second nature to Veronica; old habits die hard, she supposed. “I was scared that if we start something I’d lose you completely; more than I already have. That we wouldn’t work out and I’d lose you for life, and I couldn’t bare that thought.” There was a lump forming in her throat; so much for her mood getting better. “It’s selfish, I know, but I couldn’t… I couldn’t let that happen. I was so fucking terrified of losing you, JD, that the only thing I could think to do was run away. I knew that if I wouldn’t I won’t be able to help myself.” She knew that if she’d stayed in his room that day, the first thing she’d have done in the morning would’ve been kissing him.

For a moment, JD just stared at her. Veronica’s stomach dropped; maybe this whole confession thing had been a mistake. Maybe she should’ve just taken the notebook, said thank you, went back to the house, eaten the crazy cake in her fridge-

“I was scared, too.” JD admitted finally, the words tumbling out of his mouth like he’d been waiting years to say them. Veronica’s mind stilled, her pounding heart and JD’s words the only thing registering in it. “Of losing you. I was so fucking petrified, it was pathetic. When you became a Heather, and we drifted apart… I was so scared that I’d lost you.” Veronica could hear him getting choked up; he never cried. “That’s why I was such a dick to you. I was so jealous, you were this new you and you were way too good to be my friend… well, you always have been, but you finally realized it, and it killed me.” He paused for a long beat, looking at the ground; she was sure he’d finished talking, and was already calculating the next thing she’d say when he spoke again. “Because I’m in love with you.”

Veronica halted; even her thrashing heart skipped a full beat. “What?”

JD looked up, catching her eyes with his own. “I’m in love with you.” He repeated, the confidence in his voice shocking her. “I’ve been in love with you since we were kids. And back then I was confused, but also not because you’ve been my best friend for so long that it made sense for me to be crazy about you. And I was scared, because I was in love with my best friend, but also not scared, because my best friend was you, and it’s…” he paused for a moment, taking a breath; Veronica was, weirdly enough, the most stunned that she’d just heard Jason Dean actually ramble. “That’s basically what my brain has been sounding like for the past five years.” He admitted, the bashful chuckle he let out only surprising Veronica further.

“Because I’m crazy about you. That’s why I slept with you, even though I knew I really shouldn’t have. And it’s weird, but it’s also not, and it scares the shit out of me. Like, you seriously have no idea how scared I am. And I think… I might’ve lost you already, so I just needed to say this. I’m really, truly, crazy in love with you, Veronica.” He finished, his voice not shaking in the slightest.

His words made it sound like he was about to leave, but he didn’t; instead, he stood watching a gaping Veronica.

Her mind was going a million miles a minute, but it wasn’t like she was thinking anything articulate or smart; just one thought was running through her head, repeating over and over again like a mantra. Jason Dean is in love with me.

“I’m in love with you, too.” She said finally. She’d thought her voice would come out weak and squeaky, like it always did when she was scared, but she was speaking steadily and carefully. “I’m not sure for how long, if I’m honest, but I know that I am. That’s the reason I didn’t want us to date. I knew that if we wouldn’t work out and I’d stopped loving you… I couldn’t take it.” She was looking into his eyes as she spoke, not missing the sparkle in them. “Because I’m so truly, crazy in love with you,” she repeated his words from earlier, “that I was more scared to have you and lose you than to not have you at all.” For the second time in the past couple of months, a giant weight had been lifted off Veronica’s shoulders. And it felt good.

JD just looked into her eyes after her confession, his gaze as always grounding her but his exhilaration clearly just as strong as hers.

“Let’s stop being scared.” He offered, taking a step towards her.

After her own step, Veronica took his head in her hands, pulling it down to her level. Her beautiful notebook fell on the floor; she’d pick it up later.

“That works for me.” She said softly, her face so close to his she could feel his breath on her nose.

And then he kissed her.

JD grabbed Veronica’s waist and pulled her up to her tip-toes, his hands just as comforting and warm as she remembered, before he crashed his lips against hers.

This kiss was nothing like their passionate ones had been that day in JD’s bedroom; it was even better. They were giving themselves time to revel in it all. Veronica’s hands carefully slid up to run through JD’s hair before her tongue entered his mouth, eliciting a soft moan from him which made Veronica chuckle into the kiss, deepening it further. He tasted like cinnamon and coffee and sugar and something else she couldn’t quite compare to anything; he tasted like home. His arms around her, his lips on hers, their noses rubbing together, was like the feeling of finally, finally, being home.

They broke apart carefully, still holding each other. Their faces were inches apart, but she knew exactly how his giddy grin looked. After all, she’d known him for over half her life; and besides, her own grin wasn’t much different.

“I love you.” She whispered to him.

“I love you too.” He whispered back, his breath tickling her nose.

Veronica slowly lowered to stand normally, and JD’s head instinctively bowed down to follow her, if only for a moment; she wasn’t even sure he noticed, but it made her smile grow. Old habits really do die hard; where she went, he went, it seemed. He’d never grown out of that.

“Look,” Veronica started, looking intently into the shining eyes of the boy she loved, “I have Martha and Heather and some weird rich people cake waiting inside, but I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?” as much as she didn’t want to, Veronica started moving away from him.

“Yeah.” JD nodded. “Tomorrow.” He promised as Veronica picked up her new diary from the ground.

She turned to look at him as she walked away, her grin refusing to be contained. “Bye, JD.” She said, his name rolling off her tongue in a way she hadn’t even realized she’d been missing.

His grin seemed even bigger than hers as he waved. “Bye, Nikki.”

She didn’t wait until tomorrow; of course she didn’t. Instead, she waited until her friends fell asleep to climb up the trellises of the house next door and knock on her best friend’s unlocked window.

Chapter Text

When JD married the love of his life, he was twenty-seven years old.

It was the perfect time for them to get married. For some couples, twenty-seven could’ve been considered too young, but JD and Veronica have known each other most of their lives (exactly two-thirds of their lives, as Veronica loved to unnecessarily state), so getting married at that age was almost considered late. They’ve been dating for a whole eight years by the time she’d proposed to him, that Christmas in their old hometown, and he’d still been surprised. He had to hand it to her, Veronica had become an expert at keeping secrets; a good poker face was something that came with being a good lawyer, he supposed.

Yes, Veronica was a lawyer now. That was even more of a reason for them to get married right now; while they weren’t rich by any means, Veronica’s seven years of obsessive studying had payed off when she graduated Harvard with honors and law school as valedictorian, allowing her to get a job at a well-respected firm not long after her graduation. Between that and JD’s book editor job that he’d had for almost four years, the couple was in a great position to pay for a wedding. Nothing big, just close friends and family.

The planning had been surprisingly easy, as everything seemed to be when Veronica was in charge. JD wanted to help, genuinely, but he could only watch as his fiancé made decisions like a pro and occasionally asked for his opinion about flowers or tablecloths. So, his job had become what it usually was during big preparations; making sure Veronica doesn’t overthink herself into oblivion. Usually he was good at it, if he did say so himself, what with the eighteen years of practice he had. But two weeks before the wedding he left to get some groceries while Veronica was at work and came back to see her sitting at the kitchen table of their small New York apartment, still in her work outfit, her head in her hands and taking unsteady breaths like she was trying not to have a panic attack.

JD dropped the bags on the counter and approached her; he wasn’t sure she’d even noticed him come in, which was never a good sign.

“Nikki?” he asked carefully, placing a cautious hand on her shoulder to alert her to his presence. “What happened?”

Veronica’s face was still hidden by her hands as she spoke. “The people who run the venue just called.” She muttered, her voice shaky and a little muffled. JD didn’t need to confirm what venue she was talking about. “They said someone paid them a lot of money to use the place for the date of our wedding, and they kind of kicked us out.” She let out a choked sob at the end, clearly one she’d been trying to hold in.

“What?” JD exclaimed, sitting down in the chair next to her. “Is that even legal?” Veronica finally looked up at him and shook her head. He could see pools of tears in her big eyes.

“What are we going to do, JD?” she asked, her voice close to breaking at the end. A stray tear fell out of her right eye and ran down her cheek; JD used his finger to wipe it away as softly as he could.

“It’s okay.” He reassured her, gently bringing his hands to her shoulders. She fell forward, letting her head crash against his chest; he held her like it was second nature. Because it kind of was. “We’ll figure something out.”

It took no longer than two minutes until he felt her relax against him; he felt, as usual, unfittingly proud of calming her down. He never liked when she was anxious, and he loved that he was able to do something about it.

“Hey, I have an idea.” he started after a while. Veronica glanced up at him briefly, if only to show she was listening, before burying herself in his shirt once again. Not that he minded.

“When I told everyone at work we were getting married, Kyle told me about this old library in Manhattan that can be rented out for weddings.” Kyle was JD’s closest friend from work; a nice man that shared his love of books. No one shared his passion for them like Veronica, though, that much became even more obvious when her head rose from his shirt with her eyes lit up. “I told him that we already have a venue because my awesome fiancé picked it out, but now that we don’t…” he trailed off, raising his eyebrows at her like he knew he’d hit the idea jackpot.

“Do you think they’ll have an opening?” Veronica asked, ever the worrier, though he could see the excitement clear as day on her face. “We only have two weeks.”

JD just shrugged. “We won’t know until we check.” He said simply.

The old library did, in fact, have an opening. After checking out the venue’s website online and seeing that it was probably the prettiest place possible for a wedding, they made the call to ask. And sure enough, they had an opening in two weeks; apparently the place wasn’t very trendy, kind of a hidden gem. Veronica and JD were elated, and spent the next day running calls to guests and vendors alike, informing them about the change. Their wedding was going to be better than they imagined; two bookworms getting married in a library. It was going to be perfect.

Their respective bachelor and bachelorette parties happened two nights before the wedding instead of the night before, since the ever responsible Veronica did not want either of them to be nursing a hangover on their wedding day. JD teased her, saying that she was just insisting on that because she couldn’t hold her liquor to save her life. But, of course, he did whatever she wanted; wrapped around her little finger as he was.

Veronica’s party was hosted by Martha, her maid of honor, and was a night full of dorky drinking games that other people might’ve thought were weird but Veronica enjoyed more than any trashy never have I ever. JD’s party was hosted by his own best man; Heather McNamara.

Yes, the girl who hadn’t worn a pair of pants in public since she was fourteen was going to be JD’s best man. He’d become her friend shortly after he started dating Veronica, way back in senior year of high school. They were back to their normal trio, him, Veronica and Martha, with the new addition of Heather Mac. He was skeptical of her at first, with her history, but she was nothing but sweet to him. He warmed up to her after a while, starting to see that she was more than a shallow, rich, formerly popular girl. But the night she truly became one of his best friends came after a few months; when she came knocking on his door well past ten at night, all alone, her face tearstained and scared, and came out to him as a lesbian.

He’d been baffled. Weirdly enough, not surprised, but beyond confused. Still, he let her into his house, and listened as she babbled and overthought. She told him she’d tried to come out to her parents that night, hoping that might help ease some of her anxiety about the matter; but that it only resulted in her dad yelling and her mom crying. They hadn’t kicked her out, nothing like that, but she couldn’t stay there any longer. JD tried his best to comfort her; he wasn’t sure he was doing a good job, but it seemed that the admittedly disgusting tea he’d made her and his occasional nod to let her know he was listening had been enough. She hugged him when she was finally out of words; he hugged her back, surprised.

“Why did you come here?” he couldn’t help but ask when she stopped squeezing his bones; for a five-feet-one-inch-tall cinnamon roll of a person, the girl had some impressive strength. “It’s okay, of course, just… why?”

Heather had shrugged. “I didn’t want Ronnie or Martha to think I was into one of them.” She deflected with a joke, making JD smile. He knew a coping mechanism when he saw one.

“And you’re a good person to talk to.” She added as a softly muttered afterthought. JD’s smile had widened.

So, that was their origin story; JD and Mac, the most surprising bond in the group. Then again, with their group being an emo boy who wore all black, a dorky bookworm with an affinity for weird scarves, a sweet nerd who loved The Princess Bride, and a gay former Heather, anything could happen.

Even with Mac being JD’s best man, Veronica managed to drag her to a sleepover the night before the wedding. Veronica, Martha and Heather planned a sleepover just the three of them; when JD jokingly got offended, Veronica reminded him that he couldn’t see her the night before the wedding and that this was for his own good. She didn’t kick him out of the apartment, exactly, but she did set up snacks with an unnecessary flourish, and he got the memo.

It wasn’t like he had nowhere to go; his mom was in town for the wedding, staying at a hotel room with a pullout sofa she said she was more than happy to put to use. JD was oddly happy to spend the evening with his mom; while he loved living in the city, being away from her had been the hardest part. JD had always been close to his mom, a little unusually so, and spending an evening catching up with her sounded great to him, even if it meant being away from his fiancé.

So, JD and Amelia spent the night before the wedding catching up. They went to some restaurant for dinner and were fully set for a movie marathon in the hotel room; all filled with the romcoms JD had been raised on and secretly loved. When they were kids, Veronica used to make fun of his extensive knowledge of romcoms, but as they’ve grown up she started appreciating it more and more. She had a romcom partner right across the street; and besides, she preferred it over the times he made her watch horror.

JD and Amelia only managed to finish one movie before JD’s mind wandered over to Veronica. It was stupid, but he wanted to see her. He was surprised she was so invested in the no-contact-the-night-before-the-wedding rule, since she’d never been one for clichés, but apparently it was very important to her, and he respected that; of course he did. And it wasn’t like they were some disgustingly co-dependent couple that couldn’t spend a minute away from each other; not at all. But his heart was practically overflowing with love for the woman he was set to marry in less than twenty-four hours, the woman he’d been picturing in a white dress she refused to show him, and he really, really wanted to see her.

So, he did something stupid. Definitely not the stupidest thing he’d ever done, but still pretty stupid.

“I’ll be back in a bit, okay?” he informed his mom who was just getting out of the bathroom. He got up from the couch, where he’d been perched in front of the hotel’s TV, and started making his way to the door. “I have… something I need to do.”

Amelia watched him leave with a perceptive expression. “You know you’re not supposed to see her before the wedding, right?” she reminded him.

JD fought the urge to roll his eyes. “See you later, mom.” He said simply while opening the room’s door.

Amelia smiled knowingly. “Bye, Jason.”

Their apartment wasn’t too far away, so it only took JD twenty or so minutes until he was standing on his own doorstep, grinning to himself like a moron at the mere thought of seeing his soon-to-be-wife.

He decided to knock on the door; he had a key, of course, but he figured he should let Mac or Martha have more time to tell him to leave if he was truly not wanted there.

He heard a soft sound of pattering feet, and when the door opened, his best man (or woman, he should say) was standing in front of him with a face of crazy, heavy makeup. Smokey eyes, bright red lipstick, too-pink blush, and most notably eyeliner all around her eyes. The makeup was a stark contrast to her yellow, lacey nightgown, and she looked beyond ridiculous. Even more so when she noticed JD and her eyes widened.

“JD?” she questioned, incredulous as she gaped up at him.

He could only gape back, unable to look away from her colorful face. “Michael Jackson?” he asked, ever witty even in his confusion.

Heather seemed puzzled for a moment, before seemingly remembering the mess on her face and looking down. “We were doing makeup.” She muttered, her embarrassment beyond amusing to JD. 

Heather soon sobered up, remembering her situation, and glared up at JD. “What are you doing here?” she hissed at him, accusatory. “You’re not supposed to see Veronica!”

“I just wanted to say hi.” JD defended, raising his hands in a gesture of surrendering. Heather seemed to be having none of it, crossing her arms as she gave him a death-glare.

“Well, you can’t.” she stated. “Veronica’s in there, and she’s wearing her dress, and if you see her you’ll have bad luck for seven years.”

JD’s eyebrows furrowed. “I think that’s the rule for opening umbrellas indoors, Mac.” He reminded her. She just shrugged. “And wait, she’s in her dress? Why?”

“That’s none of your business.” Heather declared harshly, stubbornly raising her chin but only managing to look like an angry little child.

“Come on, Mac, you’re not going to stop me from going inside.” JD reasoned, moving to enter the apartment. Heather blocked his path.

“I absolutely am going to stop you from ruining your own wedding.” She announced, guarding the door with her small frame. “It’s my duty as your best man, isn’t it?”

JD gave her an exasperated look. “Heather.” He sighed.

She leveled him with a look of her own. “Jason.”

They stood like that, staring each other down with a laughable amount of seriousness, for a good ten seconds before JD could hear the sound of pattering feet on the hardwood floor once again.

“Mac, what’s taking so long?” a familiar voice called out. Heather jumped, but before she could hide the doorframe, it was too late.

Veronica came barreling towards the front door, a blur of wild hair and crazy makeup and white fabric. When she noticed JD, she gasped, and just stood staring at him. And it wasn’t like he could do much else, captivated by his Veronica’s magic as he was.

She was beautiful.

Her face was covered in something similar to Heather’s; heavy eyeshadow, weirdly placed eyeliner, lipstick so red it would probably stain her lips for the next week. That, paired with her hastily put on wedding dress and her feet clad in a pair of fuzzy cat socks might’ve made her look a little ridiculous. But to JD, she was stunning all the same.

It was her smile, he realized; she was wearing this giddy, tipsy type of smile (so much for her no drinking rule), and it only seemed to widen when she caught sight of him. He had half a mind to mock her for breaking her own rule when she knew she took hangovers much worse than him, but that thought died out when she stood frozen in front of him, happy. He could read her, always could, and she seemed beyond joyful to see him. Plus, the sight of her in the white, simple but gorgeous dress that he’d never seen before made any snarky remark leave his mind immediately.

“Damn it, Ronnie, go back in the living room!” Heather ordered, frustrated. Veronica paid no mind to her, instead gazing at JD with that blissful, unfocused grin.

“Please tell me that’s not going to be your wedding makeup.” JD said, the nature of the teasing words almost a default but his voice much less sarcastic than usual. “That lipstick will stain everything.” Veronica just giggled, the sound as loud and strange as ever.

“Veronica!” Heather whined indignantly, stretching out the last syllable. “Why do I care about this wedding more than both of you combined?”

“It’s very sweet of you, David Bowie.” JD joked, unable to help himself. Veronica giggled again; no matter how long they’ve been together, making her laugh would never not make him feel victorious.

Heather gave JD another glare, muttered something about giving up, and stalked her way back to the living room.

“What are you doing here?” Veronica asked after Heather was gone. “She’s right, you’re not supposed to see me.” He chose not to comment on the fact that she was clearly as unhappy about the rule as he was, and instead opted for a simple shrug.

“I wanted to talk to you.” He said simply. He never hid his intentions with her; he could always tell her anything, plain and simple. No games.

Veronica’s tipsy grin melded into a smaller, endlessly soft kind of smile. “Miss me already?” she asked, clearly going for teasing but the gentleness in her tone only making her sound adoring.

He felt his own grin subsiding into one more similar to hers; tender and loving. “Of course.” He said softly. She giggled again; she did that a lot when she was drunk. But this time she was fond and gentle, not loud and tipsy. He loved both versions.

“I like the dress.” He said, taking in the long, white dress Veronica was wearing.

It really was a lovely dress; nothing too fancy, a simple long, white strapless gown with a bit of a flower pattern at the top. But what made the dress truly magnificent was the woman inside it. It fit her like a glove, not only because of the size; it was just so distinctly hers. Even JD, with his admittedly poor knowledge of fashion, could see that the dress was practically made for his Veronica. Even with her currently crazy makeup, unmade hair and fluffy socks, she looked magical; like some enchanting fairy princess, the kind that could hypnotize with her beauty.

She’d been making him read fantasy books, if it wasn’t obvious.

“You do?” Veronica asked him now, giving a little twirl.

“Very much.” He nodded, watching her like he was captivated. Which he very much was, and not at all mad about it. “You look like a damn princess, Nikki.” He stated; again, no hiding.

Veronica’s smile widened, brightening at the compliment. Again, he felt proud that he was the one to have made her smile like that.

“You broke your rule, by the way.” He couldn’t help saying. Veronica’s smile dropped, which was a shame, but her adorable confused look was quite a good consolation prize. “You’re so drunk right now.” He gave a crooked, teasing grin.

“I’m not drunk.” She insisted, the unfocused look in her eyes doing little to support her words. “Heather made us cocktails, so I had a few and I’m a little tipsy.”

“How many have you had, exactly?” JD asked, not mad in the slightest and more so doing it to get a rise out of her. Another childhood habit he’d never quite gotten rid of; it was an impossible task, almost, when Veronica’s flustered pout was always so damn cute.

It was just as cute right now, too, when she realized she’d been caught. “It had peach juice.” She stated as a form of defense. “I like peaches.”

JD nodded, giving a patronizing but clearly good-natured grin. “Of course you do.”

Veronica tutted at him, though she was smiling. “Get out of here.” She laughed, moving closer to the door to give him a gentle shove.

“I’m going, I’m going.” He raised his hands in mock surrender, letting her push him out the door. He snuck a quick kiss to her lips before she shut it, though; when they pulled away, she giggled again.

“You have lipstick on you.” She observed, tipsily playful.

“You’re one to talk.” JD teased back, leaving before he was tempted to smudge her makeup completely. He had tomorrow for that, after all.

The next day, Jason Dean married Veronica Sawyer, the love of his life.

It was a simple wedding; small, only friends and family. Nothing too extravagant. Except for the venue, of course; the library was so breathtakingly beautiful that JD was a little worried Veronica would zone out during the vows and just stare at the shelves. She’d always had some weird affinity for old books or notebooks; he could still picture her awestruck look the first time she entered the Harvard library, and this place was arguably more impressive.

But, of course, she didn’t zone out. She didn’t take her eyes off of him the entire ceremony, even as happy tears streamed down her face; for the first time, his own tears had appeared long before hers. When he’d seen her walking down the aisle, looking magical and enchanting and something words couldn’t quite describe, the tears appeared. For once, he didn’t hide them. He didn’t feel embarrassed; everyone who mattered to him in the room was crying, with the maid of honor and best man (woman) sniffling as to not ruin their makeup, Veronica’s dad tearing up and her mom fully sobbing, and JD’s own mom crying. He hadn’t seen her cry since that day when he was nine years old, and she came into his room back in Texas with her eyes red and puffy to tell him they were moving to Sherwood; he never thought he’d be so happy seeing her cry.

The newlywed couple made it home at last hours later, at around midnight, giggling with pure joy and giddy excitement. The first thing Veronica did when they entered the house was call him her husband; the first thing JD did was grab her by the waist and kiss her like he never had before.

He was careful pulling her beautiful dress off, but in her own eagerness, Veronica grabbed his hand to rush him and ended up creating the tiniest tear in the fabric of the skirt.

“That’d be a nice thing to explain to our kids.” She joked lightheartedly, looking at the tear in her beautiful dress like it was nothing. JD kissed her again, making her let out a happy kind of giggle, as he finally slipped the dress off of her. She eagerly stepped out of it.

That night, JD couldn’t sleep. But it wasn’t the regular kind of insomnia, when he was anxious or sad or just plain annoyed at himself for being unable to sleep (which made him annoyed, which made him unable to sleep, which made him annoyed, which made him unable to sleep…). It was a different kind; a good kind.

He couldn’t sleep, because his wife was laying in his arms. His wife.

Veronica Sawyer. The girl he’d loved since they were kids, since she was a tiny little thing with too much hair and he was a boy who wore all black and had impressive climbing skills. His favorite person in the world, the girl he loved before he knew what being in love even meant, was sound asleep in his arms after their wedding.

He couldn’t fall asleep, because he was too happy. Too excited. The feeling of her laying against him, a shiny ring on her finger underneath the blanket, snoring softly the way she insisted she never did, made him so content he refused to fall asleep and miss it. She always made him feel content; happy, joyful. She was bliss in the form of a person, his own personal ray of sunshine, but this was a different kind of joy. He felt like a puzzle piece he didn’t know was missing had finally slotted into place; and that puzzle piece was her. His Nikki, fitting into him like she belonged there. Which she really, really did.

And now, what did JD do when he couldn’t sleep?

Pester his best friend, of course.

“Nikki.” He whispered, nudging her shoulder. He didn’t really have to move much for that; she was practically nestled into him, laying between his arms with her head on his chest. Not that he minded.

She let out a low, sleepy groan in response, so he tried again.

“Veronica.” He tried, this time nudging her foot with his. He regretted it immediately; he forgot her feet were always freezing.

“M’sleeping.” Veronica slurred, seemingly trying to move away so he’d stop bothering her but just barely managing to move her head to her pillow.

This time, JD nudged at her back that was now half turned to him. “Veronica.” He whispered, a bit louder this time.

Veronica finally turned her head towards him, the most adorable, sleepy scowl on her face. She looked like an angry cat whose nap had been interrupted.

“What, Dean?” she hissed, as annoyed at the disturbance as he’d hoped. Some things never got old.

He just grinned. “Dean-Sawyer.” He reminded her. Merely saying the name sent butterflies flying through his stomach.

She grinned back at him, tired and reluctant but seemingly unable not to, before she readjusted to be fully turned to him.

“You okay?” she murmured softly. She knew he wouldn’t wake her up in the middle of the night for no good reason; she knew him inside and out.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He hurried to reassure her, whispering although they were obviously the only two people in the room. “I’m just… I don’t know. Really, really happy that you’re my wife now.” She smiled at him, seemingly just as content and blissful.

“And I’m happy that you’re my husband.” She mumbled, a sleepy gentleness to her voice even with her lopsided grin. Her eyes started fluttering shut as she was looking at him, though, and he nudged her shoulder again to stop them.

“Don’t fall asleep.” He requested at her confusedly pouting face. “Come on, let’s go get a slushie.” He offered.

She frowned at him. “JD, are you insane? It’s like three in the morning.” She reasoned. It was actually well past four, as the clock on their wall said, but he didn’t tell her that.

Instead, he half-shrugged; it was a bit of a struggle, while still laying on his side, but he managed. “They are open twenty-four-seven.” He prompted.

Veronica sighed, though she didn’t sound even close to actually angry. A tad exasperated, maybe, but not angry. “JD, we have a long flight tomorrow. I want to get some sleep.” It was true; their flight to their short honeymoon in Spain, a combined wedding gift from their parents, was set to leave the next afternoon.

Still, JD didn’t give up that easily. “You know you can sleep on the plane, right?” he reasoned, eyebrows raised. Veronica paused to think at that, seemingly weighing her options.

“Can I use you as a pillow?” she asked eventually.

JD grinned. “Always.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, contemplating, before she sighed once again. “Fine, let’s go.”

They walked to the 7/11 closest to their apartment; it was a mere seventeen-minute walk, as JD had made sure to check three years ago when they’d moved in. Veronica had laughed at him then, but he was sure that she was now grateful for the short walk. She seemed just as blissful as him; practically radiating sunshine, walking down the streets of New York in the almost morning wearing his shirt and a pair of leggings. Not that his own outfit was much better; an old band shirt and a pair of sweatpants. Still, neither of them cared, too caught up in talking and laughing to each other as they walked.

They got their favorite slushie flavors, feeling the need to celebrate; cherry for her, blue raspberry for him. She eagerly challenged him to one of their fast-drinking contests, but he declined. Brain-freezes numbed his mind, made it possible to pretend he was somewhere else; but right now, he was right where he wanted to be.

He did, however, sneak his hand under the lower part of Veronica’s shirt when she wasn’t looking and let his freezing cup touch her skin; she shrieked, a whole new kind of competitive arising.

They sat on the curb, since there weren’t that many cars passing by; it wasn’t like the middle of the night in Sherwood, when it was all deserted, but it was nice nonetheless. Their impromptu slushie run had taken them back to a few memories; half their afternoons had been spent like this when they were kids. And on days where JD had been particularly convincing and Veronica had known her parents were sleeping like the dead, some of their nights had been spent like this, too.

So, they reminisced, laughing as the feeling of nostalgia warmed them up and their drinks cooled them down. It was so familiar to them, sitting like this on the curb with a sugary drink in hand, but it also wasn’t. They didn’t have stars to look at, this time; instead, they opted for staring at the few little sources of light they could see in the New York city sky.

Not that it made much difference to JD; his Veronica, his wife, shone brighter than any star.

They left close to six in the morning, when the sun started rising. They were laughing the whole way home, drunk on giggles and sugar and love, stumbling in their half-awake states. Veronica said something about being happy that they’d gone out; JD teased her, claiming she was just being stubborn before, but she just rolled her eyes and smiled.

When Veronica used her key to unlock the door, JD surprised her by bending down to pick her up, bridal-style. She let out a startled laugh, looping her arms around his neck like she trusted he wouldn’t drop her.

“What are you doing, weirdo?” she laughed, not resisting when he carried her inside. Younger her would’ve started kicking and squirming, probably, but even then it had been a show; she only used to do it because she knew he wouldn’t have put her down, anyway. Now she just went along with his antics, putting up no fight; she could admit that they were fun.

“I never did carry you over the threshold.” JD reasoned, laughing along with her and shutting the door with his foot so they wouldn’t wake the whole apartment building at five in the morning with their cackles.

“You’re such a dork.” Veronica teased affectionately, giggling when he opened the bedroom door with a flourish and letting out something resembling a squeak when he almost dropped her in the process.

He tightened his grip around her, not letting her fall. “A dork who’s your husband now.” He said, singing the word husband like it didn’t make his heart flutter.

Veronica let out a hum as he carefully placed her on the bed. “I think I can live with that.” She shrugged, starting to wriggle out of her leggings.

JD could only watch her; his Nikki, truly his at last.

“You know something?” he asked her, tossing his sweatpants aside and climbing under the blankets next to her. She turned to him, curiosity shining in her big eyes. “You, Veronica Dean-Sawyer,” he said, emphasizing the name dramatically on purpose, “Are the love of my life.”

Something softened in Veronica’s gaze as she watched him now, looking into the eyes of the man she loved.

“And you, Jason Dean-Sawyer,” she started, her tone parroting his, “Are being very, very cheesy.” He raised his eyebrows and let out a mocking gasp; she giggled for the nth time that night, the sound music to his ears.

“And I love you more than anything in the world.” Her head inched closer to his on the pillows while she took his hand under the blanket.

“I think I can live with that.” He muttered, making her grin softly. He leaned closer, pressing his lips to her in a soft kiss. She tasted like slushies and home; and he could feel the cold metal of her brand new ring where her fingers were interlaced with his.