Heather Duke x Reader

3

It's 5:50pm and I'm worried. I really don't want to go to Heather Chandler's house, but if I don't, I'm sure they'll make my life a living hell at school. I don't know what to wear, and there's no way I'm going to wear those outfits the Heathers wear. I hate girly clothing. I decide to wear some black ripped jeans and an orange hoodie so I can at least match the stupid croquet ball they'll assign to me. I head downstairs to the front door and wait till it's 5:58. I look out the door while I wait, and see the Heathers already out getting ready for the match. I see Heather Chandler say something to Heather Duke, and Heather Duke turns on her heel and heads towards my house. My eyes widen and I head out the door, meeting her on my sidewalk. "Hurry up, Heather is going to start without us if we don't," she says as she grabs my hand and brings me over to Heather Chandler's house. My heart beats rapidly as I let her drag me. We get to Heather's house and go to her back yard, and there awaits Heather McNamara and Heather Chandler. "It's about time you two showed up," Heather Chandler says in her bitchy tone. I bite my tongue so I stop myself from mocking her. "Here," Heather McNamara says as she tosses my mallet and ball at me at the same time. I catch the ball but not the mallet. "Come on Y/N, I can't stand to watch my set to be dirtied." I smirk. "So are we on first name terms now?" Heather Chandler sighs. "You're up first, dyke. Is that better?" she says, sneering at me. I frown. "But I- I don't even know how to play croquet," I say, my anxiety closing in on me. Heather Chandler laughs. "And you don't even know how to play top either." I clench my jaw really hard. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" I say stepping towards her. Heather smirks. "I'm just being honest. You're never going to get with a guy if you keep this up, you know." "Keep what up?" She scoffs. "This whole, 'I want attention so fucking bad!' thing. It's getting really old." I laugh so hard I end up coughing. "You think I want attention? You've gotta be kidding me." I keep laughing and point at her saying, "You're good." Her eyes narrow. "Cut the shit. What's your damage, Y/N? Why are you pretending to be gay?" I stop laughing. "You think this is fake? Me being gay?" She nods. "Why the fuck would I pretend to be gay? Why would I decide to have to deal with bullying and harassment, and bitches like you calling me dyke and lesbo and homo, and everything else under the sun." She rushes towards me and slams me into the side of her brick house. "Don't. Call. Me. A. Bitch." I stare daggers at her and say, "Then don't call me a dyke." I say. Then with hate in my eyes I say, "Bitch." And after I say that she slaps me, and she slaps me hard. My hand shoots up to my face. I groan in pain. I try to shove out of Heather's reach, but she just shoves me back into the wall again. She stares at me with so much anger in her eyes. I look at her with only hurt in my eyes now, tears threatening to spill. "You call me all sorts of things day by day, and I let it roll off my shoulders. But when someone else calls you something mean only once or twice you just lose your shit?" I turn away from Heather's gaze and she grabs my face and forces me to look at her. "You don't look away from me." I try to scoff, but it comes out as a sob. "Fuck you." Heather is about to slap me again, but I catch her arm. I look at her with as much hate as I can and shove her off of me. She composed herself and brushes nothingness off of her skirt. "Don't come back here ever again." I laugh lightly. "Don't worry, I won't want to."

I walk across the street, trying to keep my cool. I want to cry so badly, but I don't want to give in to the Heathers' hatred for me. I finally reach my house and rush upstairs to the bathroom. I turn on the water in the shower, turn off the lights and get in the shower. I close my eyes and let the water pelt me.

I enter my bedroom and crawl in bed. I want to mentally prepare myself for tomorrow because I know the Heathers will ruin my life now, but it's pointless to even try. The Heathers are always unexpected. They always throw in a wild card. I sigh and lie down gripping the blankets on my bed.

Time to expect the worst.