[CHANDUKE] Slow dances.

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Heather Chandler was staring her down from across the multipurpose room. She's shadowed by dim lights and dancing teenagers, but they some how keep eye contact.

"What?" Duke lip synced across the hall and there's the roll of grey eyes and what she imagined to be the click of red heels on the wooden floor as reply.

The dark haired girl huffed, reaching for a cup of punch as the queen bee made her way over. Duke glanced up at her. Chandler was wearing 2-inch shoes, which didn't help with the horrid height difference between the friends. Heather pursed her lips.

"So where's your date, tinker bell?" Heather teased, falling beside her, leaning against the cheap pink table.

Duke scoffed. "You mean some AP English junior? Eh, who knows." She waved her hand. "Probably getting a hand job from a cheerleader in the bathroom or something," she huffed. The punch tasted like sour peaches and she drew back.

Heather Chandler almost laughed at that, a thin smile appearing on her red lips. "Real keeper, Heather."

"Shut up." Duke groaned. "What about you, goldilocks?" She heard Heather snicker. "What football player are you with this week?" Duke asked.

"None." Chandler replied, and Duke almost coughs on the punch. "No one I liked asked me out. And I didn't exactly want to go to senior prom with some football player who's praying for the off chance he might get in my pants."

Duke laughed lightly. "Tough luck," she smiled. "Better luck next time."

They raise their plastic cups to that. A silence fell over the pair as they turn towards the dance floor. "God look," Chandler vaguely gestured forward. Green eyes flicked forward. Chandler was pointing at McNamara and Veronica.

The brunette stumbled with her two left feet and her date giggled.

"Good for her." Chandler hummed. "Veronica's been in a funk since JD died. Good thing she's dating again. Even if it is just McNamara."

A silence fell between them for a moment once more and the blonde cleared her throat. "Come on," she said suddenly, putting her solo cup down.

"Hm?" Heather doesn't even look up until there's a hand on her wrist.

"Lets dance, idiot."

Duke lingered, green dress brushing the floor. "Heather, it's a slow song."

Chandler laughed faintly. "I'm aware, Heather."

The shorter girl's stomach flipped as she was pulled to the edge of the dance floor. Duke went cold as a gloved hand falls on her waist.

It isn't a dance, really. It's faint swaying back and forth at an uncomfortable closeness. That doesn't stop Duke's heart from beating in her ears. What was Heather getting at?

"Heather, why did you never ask me?" the voice in front of her asked. The grasp on her hand tightened.

Duke gave a shaky breath. "I—"

She jumped at the sudden tap on her shoulder. Duke stumbled back and McNamara stared, dazed.

"Are you ok, Heather?" The small girl asked her friend, taking a small step forward as Duke backed towards the punch bowl.

McNamara's date stood behind her. Veronica gave a concerned glance at the green girl.

McNamara frowned gently. "Are you okay?" She tried again, holding a hand out. Duke doesn't take it.

No one here is wearing red heels.


"I know you've been feeling out of the loop since Chandler died a few months ago, but you can hang out with us tonight if you want."

Heather wants to throw up, but no ones yelling at her to 'shut up' for once. She winced at the dance's bright lights.

"Heather? You're pale—do you want to sit down?"

Veronica can't help herself, she rolls her brown eyes. "You look like you've seen a ghost, Duke."

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