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The crickets chirped just a little too loud as Veronica plopped down behind the 7/11. The summer heat had come, the heat that washes over you and begs you to look at the world just a little differently, if only for a second.
Fuck this.
Veronica placed her Big Gulp on the pavement beside her with a bit too much aggression and tapped her toe mindlessly as she tried to clear her mind. Sometimes, her room just felt like it was closing in on her, with all its shelves and walls and ceilings and books she’d already read. Sometimes, more often than not nowadays, she just needed to go out when the evening was young and find solace in the 7/11 parking lot.
She wondered what it would be like if someone from school saw her like this. Ripped jeans, eyeliner bolder than normal, that stupid monocle Heather McNamara said made her look like Teddy Roosevelt. It was the version of herself she always wanted.
After a minute or two of staring at the trash cans and the rising moon and feeling the world click into place. Veronica heard it. A rustle, to her right. And when she looked, no one but Heather Chandler was sitting next to her.
The Heathers saw each other on weekends sometimes, but it was always for parties or some formal bullshit that Veronica despised. She supposes that the red bralette and flowy white shirt Heather is wearing now aren’t all that different from those formal dresses, but it seems more natural. Although, it was odd to see her not all dolled up and ready to reign the school.
Veronica sat in silence for a moment, almost considering leaving and doing her deep philosophical contemplation elsewhere when Heather Chandler spoke.
“You come here sometimes?” she murmured, gazing off into the beat-up soccer field that lay just a little ways before them. The crickets chirped louder.
“Yeah, sometimes. Really brings out my inner poet, I guess.” Veronica rolled her eyes at herself but grinned. A tap of her finger against the cement.
“God, Ronnie. You think you’re practically Oscar Wilde.”
“Oh, but to define is to limit,” Veronica quipped. The conversation felt more free than any banter they’d ever had over the lunch table.
Heather groaned almost playfully. “Ugh, shut up! You’re such a smartass.”
“I can’t help it with my 140 IQ.”
Heather scoffed, but said nothing more. They stared at the dusty field again for a few minutes, Ronnie occasionally pausing to drink her Big Gulp. Somehow Heather got close enough just to steal a sip or two.
“Hm,” she suddenly sighed in deep contemplation. Abruptly, she turned. “Ronnie?”
The girl’s head tilted, an eyebrow quirked in interest. “Yeah?”
There was another pause, a lull in the whole interaction. Veronica’s eyes met Heathers expectantly.
All of a sudden, Heather moved forward and brushed her lips over Veronica’s cheek, her soft breath almost indistinguishable from the breeze. There Heather paused languidly for barely a second. But before Veronica could even blink, Heather was back in her place again.
“H-huh?” Veronica stuttered, a little under her breath. Heather only smiled and shrugged in response.
They sat like that a second more until Heather stood up.
“Ugh, I have to leave. See you later, Sawyer,” she quickly winked. And then she just……walked away, and around the corner, and left Veronica sitting in the same place she started, with the tiniest trace of lipstick on her cheekbone.
“Goddamnit, Heather,” Veronica groaned, looking up at the sky deploringly and taking a long sip of her Big Gulp—but not before she thought of Heather’s kiss, and smiled.