Heathers Requests/One Shots

Starting Small

I, uh... don't know what to say. TW//Death

Veronica was proud of her boyfriend. Suggesting to rekindle her friendship with Betty was a great idea! She knocked on the door, getting no answer, as per usual. Her parents were very busy, going on trips often. If Veronica had to guess, they were there a week out of every trimester. The Finn's house was the same, with old photos of Betty's grandparents and it was a somehow neat mess. There was a path to the chaos, if you knew how to find it.

J.D. stopped in the kitchen. "You go on up, I'll get her something to drink. Maybe this," he said, grabbing some blue container from the fridge. It looked like punch.

"You're the best," I said with sincerity, kissing his cheek while I brushed past him. It was the second door on the left... ah, yes! Betty's room. Decorating with a soothing mix of light yellow and purple. Betty was already up, adjusting the books on her shelf. She was still in pajamas, athletic shorts and a large sweatshirt. Her hazel eyes turned to me in surprise.

"Veronica," she said, sounding downbeatingly happy. Did that even make sense? It was probably her hangover. "I... would have cleaned up more if I knew you were coming over. Why are you here?" Betty fell back onto her bed. She could hear J.D. in the kitchen, pouring the punch into a glass. "Who's that? Heather? No wait, is it Heather? Or no, no! Heather!" Veronica laughed. Betty was so quick-witted.

"No, actually, that's J.D.," she told her. Betty tilted her head and Veronica began to worry that she didn't know who J.D. was, but she motioned for Veronica to continue. "And, well, ever since I joined the Heathers, I've felt like we never hung out. I'm sorry I just kinda... left you. I understand if you're mad at me." Betty blinked, before smiling. She shook her head 'no'.

"You know what the difference between you and I is?" Betty asked. That was not what she was expecting. "You took the words thrown at us and made them something evil. I take them and make them into something different. You chase after the perfect life while I make it. Get it?" J.D. walked in, handing her a cup. "Oh, thanks. J.D., right?" He nodded, watching Betty a bit weirdly as she took a big gulp of the punch. Betty stood up, walking over to the door. "And I-"

Her hands flew to her neck as she turned around, eyes meeting first J.D.'s, then Veronica's. "I- I-" Her hazel eyes rolled up and she fell forward, breaking the spindly coffee table into splinters.

"Oh God... I just killed my nicest friend," Veronica panicked. J.D. was oddly calm about the whole thing.

"One you haven't spoken to in months," he observed. She batted his arm. She wasn't thinking about how this happened, and for that, J.D. was grateful. When she did, he was in for a ride. This was the calm before the storm and, if this was called calm, then that's a pretty good teller of how scary Veronica was when she was mad.

"Same difference!" Not really how that expression is used, he thought. But okay. "What do we do?!" J.D.'s eyes caught on a stationary box. He walked over and slid it across the hardwood floor to where Veronica was kneeling. "What's this?" she asked, her voice low and hoarse.

"How well do you know Betty's handwriting?"

(567 words)