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Heather wiped her tears away and zipped up her last duffel bag. She had her jewelry inside, something she was hoping would keep her identity together in the upcoming times. She had to stay strong and pretend she was as put together as she wanted the world to believe her to be, for the slight hole that she'd feel whole again soon, too.
The house was quiet, her parents left town a couple hours earlier to “discuss how to deal with this situation”, and they said it with a scowl to show Heather how displeased they were about her. But it didn't take a genius to understand their feelings, their words – especially her mother's – were enough.
“I can't even look at you,” said in the general direction of where Heather was sitting, small, like a child having been caught with the cookie jar open. But Heather was an adult now and her parents didn't tolerate her presence in the house anymore.
Hushed words behind closed doors that Heather had caught while sneaking around. Relatives somewhere else, camps, programs. Heather was an abomination, wrong, a bringer of shame, and they had to either rid themselves of Heather or force Heather to shed that sick part of her personality.
Heather stayed in the hallway earlier and listened for a few minutes more, then practically skipped to her car and sped to a gas station to make a call with the payphones behind the building and out of sight.
The phone was sticky and Heather frowned in disgust, then swallowed when the first ring came through and held her breath until there was a soft click and a warm voice introduced himself.
Raspier than Heather remembered. Remember was a strong word, it was more like Heather had a very distant and faint recognition of that person, but if she had to pick from a crowd the corresponding face, she'd remain completely clueless. And this voice said hello, and then his own name, and Heather hesitated before revealing her own. At the silence that followed, Heather feared that she'd gone too far and that her only shot at freedom had slipped from her grasp.
And then, only then, Uncle Dale asked how she was.
Heather held back and chose her words carefully.
Not even three minutes later Heather got approval to visit Dale, just for a few weeks, while she'd sort her things out and get her new life going.
After the call, Heather had to sit down and chew on the words a little bit, let them sink in completely, and let herself understand what she was about to do. Her parents and the town she could leave behind, but Veronica, Duke, Mac? That was impossible.
Even if Veronica shouldn't have mattered to her anymore, even if Heather's snake tongue had betrayed her emotions completely and told Veronica to leave when all she'd really wanted for her was to stay. And after Veronica had begun to keep her distance, Heather found herself alone, or with Claire, and with her guilt and her sadness about her future and her longing for Veronica.
And now, Heather had nothing. She didn't even have her heartache anymore, she could only think about the future and paying for enough gas, and about which bags to bring, and which clothes to leave behind.
Heather drove over to Duke to beg her to go with her, because she feared that she couldn't go the distance alone and would turn back and forget how cruel her world has become and how it wouldn't greet her back, even if she'd apologized for her ways. And Duke, the true friend that she was, told Heather that there was nothing for her to stay here for and that she should leave to where she was safe. And that was not the place she'd been calling her home for her entire life.
Duke tagged along when Heather went over to Mac, and the three of them talked over what would happen, what should happen after she'd leave, to make sure that she'd be remembered as a wronged saint as if that would make this whole situation anything other than cruel and awful.
And the whole time Heather was trying to wave away that nagging thought in the back of her mind, Veronica, who she wanted to say goodbye to last, because she wanted her to be the first thing to come to her mind when she thought back of Sherwood. Her mind was a cassette tape and would need to be reversed to play the memories over again, and with Veronica the last piece, she'd be the first to skip over to go to the beginning and the last to hear again.
She hugged Duke for a long time and even longer Mac, because releasing them meant that she was going, and it was final, and it was perhaps the last time they'd meet. Heather wondered how long her hug with Veronica would be and if she'd be brave enough to kiss her for the last time.
At last, Heather sat inside the Porsche again and through her tears, waved goodbye to Duke and Mac, Mac who was crying too, and Duke was hiding her misty eyes from the both of them, but Heather knew her childhood friend just too well to be led on.
And then it was just Heather and the car, and she put it in gear, and started slowly, to go to Veronica's, even if it was already dark outside and Veronica's parents surely home as well. It didn't matter. Heather knew she had to make right the biggest thing she'd fucked up in her life.
The drive was silent and her heart was in her throat. She'd swallowed tears and wiped at them with a tissue and the cogs were turning and turning and turning in her brain, endlessly, and she kept thinking about what to say and what not to.
She would start with a quiet sorry and would follow it up with a louder one, one for just Veronica to hear and the other for the entire world to know that Veronica was wronged and would need justice. And then… And then? What could Heather even say? And what could she say that Veronica wanted to hear?
She turned left where she should've turned right. Her heart was beating louder now and her stomach cramped so hard that she needed to pull over and let her emotions play out. Heather was in agony now, chest tight and a sharp pain in her gut, and she leaned over to signal to her body that she was in there too, her brain, that was supposed to lead the whole person, not the pain, and not the fear.
Minutes passed and sweat was rolling on her forehead and she looked up and realized that she'd crossed to the point from where there was no coming back. The sign in the distance was real and final and it was telling her that she was leaving Sherwood, and to have safe travels.
Heather couldn't leave without Veronica or without Veronica knowing how incredibly sorry she was for the pain she'd been putting her through. Some bird chirped in the distance, and crickets were all around her now, and she was about to leave into the night. Her shaky right reached for the gear and gravel creaked under the slow turn of the car. Then monotonous hum, and her fingers drummed impatiently on the wheel.
If she didn't do it fast enough, she'd chicken out, and she didn't want to disappoint Veronica once again.
More and more houses, white fences, patios with lights and patios in complete darkness. She was going slow now, really slow, looking for a parking spot. Another light was turned on suddenly on the left and Heather didn't want people to talk about her late night visit at Veronica's. The last thing Veronica needed was to be bullied for her association with Heather.
So, she parked the car on the other side of the street and a house away, and she looked around. Nobody in the area, just cars, silent, some trees looming over, wind rusting the orange leaves. Heather sat in the car for a minute, trying to continue her imaginary monologue, come up with ways to follow her speech after saying that she was so very sorry. The words just wouldn't come and she gave up and opened the door.
She didn't lock the car because she knew she'd be back in a couple minutes. She crossed the street, her shoes thumping slightly, which she thought would give her away and people would come and attack her from the shadows for just being there, but then she reached the gate for the Sawyers’ backyard and there was nobody around her.
The gate opened with a squeak and Heather got scared again, so she waited for a few seconds, but the night remained still around her. She could see the lights dance in the living room, Veronica's parents were watching TV, and Heather knew Veronica wasn't with them.
She walked quietly to under Veronica's window, even ducking her head a bit to surely not be seen from the living room window.
And then it was just her and the dark window of Veronica, and Heather didn't want to but she knew she had to wake her. She looked around for pebbles, and she grabbed a couple, her fingernails now having dirt underneath, but she did it for Veronica and would do it again for Veronica, because she wanted to see her, just one more time.
She chose a small pebble, the tiniest one and she even pulled her arm into a throwing position, when the light came on in Veronica's room. Heather dropped the pebble in surprise and leaned down to grab after it, and from that position she'd thought of what Veronica would think of her if she'd saw her there, like a creep, in the night, sneaking up on her life again, despite Veronica having never asked her to do so.
And if anything, the last thing Heather wanted was to be remembered as a creep even by Veronica, one of the last people who didn't think her that. Besides, she'd disturbed Veronica's life one too many times already, and she didn't have it in her heart to do it again.
She straightened up and from that position caught a glimpse of Veronica, hair wet from the shower, wearing a serious expression.
Heather swallowed and knew that she'd missed the right moment if there ever was such a thing. So, she scurried uncharacteristically to her car and sat inside.
She stared at the house and stared at the light inside Veronica's window, and didn't find the strength inside herself to meet her again and tear open their wounds, because then she'd bleed out and she had an uncle to visit and a world to hide away from.
Her moment had come and passed, she let the feeling sink in that that was it, and she was ready and free to go, now knowing that it was the fair thing to do to not disturb Veronica. She'd been selfish about their relationship way too much already and now it was her turn to give back to Veronica and leave in silence.
Heather started up the engine and put the car in gear. Her hands were shaking and she swallowed hard, feeling tears swelling in her eyes again. With blurry vision, Heather turned her head, hoping she'd see Veronica again, but she wasn't there anymore, only the light from her window.
Heather pressed on the gas pedal gently and the car moved, and she had no other choice but to look ahead, too, again, but this time without Veronica forever. And she knew she made the right choice because she wanted to love her correctly this time, even if that meant that she had to look back one last time in silence and leave her behind.