War in Broadway High

19. Your True Colors Are Beautiful

Veronica.

Note to self, breaking into JD's bedroom through the window yields great results. First time, check!

Now it was an hour after that, they were lounging on the couch downstairs, and it felt right to be there. In her own home, she wasn't allowed to have her feet up on the cushions, but here, JD had assured her no one would mind. So she was curled up, leaning against him, his arm around her. His jacket smelled like him, like dry autumn leaves, leather, smoke, and the warm scent of his skin, now mixed with her perfume.

There were still boxes scattered around the house as if the family had never finished unpacking, or as if they were ready to move at a moment's notice. One of those boxes was the makeshift table where the TV was propped up in front of them. They were 'ironically' watching some corny action movie, but Veronica wasn't really paying attention. She had too much on her mind. It had been a tough day at school, and the events of Friday night kept playing in an endless loop in her head.

It had been an accident. JD hadn't meant to push Rich off the window and she hadn't meant to not lift him up. But still, she felt bad. But not as bad as she thought she should feel. Which in a way, just made her feel worse. They'd killed someone! Sure, he was trying to hurt them, and he was a bully, an asshole most of the time...but he was also just a kid. With a chance to grow and a whole future ahead of him. A future they'd just...snuffed out. She snuffed out, when she could have grabbed him but didn't-

"Hey." JD seemed to have noticed her growing anxiety. "You're a million miles away." He trailed kisses on her lips, cheeks, and jaw, short and soft and sweet, and it effectively made everything beyond them disappear.

For a bit, but then there were sounds of screaming from the movie and Veronica pulled away. They reminded her of Rich.

"Sorry, I just...I'm worried." She played with the collar of his shirt, absentminded.

"About Heather? You think she'll go through with her threats?"

Veronica shook her head.

"Not right now. She needs to play the grieving girl for a bit, 'vindictive bitch' wouldn't look good in the public eye after someone's suicide. So it bought us some time, at least. But I was thinking about Rich...I mean, don't you feel bad, about what happened?"

"Of course I do. But we did what had to be done. He's gone, and we are still here..."

He started kissing her neck. Veronica sighed and slowly let herself relax, curling her fingers in his soft brown hair, feeling calmer.

"Gosh Pops, you didn't tell me you were bringing a girl over."

Veronica didn't expect to hear Bud Dean's voice, and a bit startled she moved away to finally meet JD's dad.

"Didn't hear you come in, son," JD replied without skipping a beat, leaning back on the couch.

He did a good job of masking his emotions behind nonchalance, but Veronica was getting pretty good at reading him, and she could tell the arm around her had tensed up, and his eyes were apprehensive.

She composed a polite smile and reached her hand out to offer it to Bud.

"Hi, Veronica Sawyer, it's nice to meet you."

The man was holding a six-pack, and instead of shaking her hand, he placed a beer in hers, giving her a once-over. There was an offputting air about him. Veronica couldn't quite put it into words, but it felt like danger.

"You should stay for dinner, sweetheart, I'm sure the old man won't mind," Bud said, opening a can for himself and chugging it.

She never wanted to refuse an invite so badly in her life for no apparent reason.