Chapter Text
"For a greasy little nobody, you do have good bone structure." Heather sneered, holding up Veronica's chin. She looked down her nose and into the other girl's face, both of them making a point to avoid direct eye contact, but Heather's eyes seemed to drift to Veronica's plush lips more than a few times.
"Thanks?" Veronica blushed. Her cheeks turned a shade similar to Heather's trademark scrunchie.
This was followed by an intense silence in which they finally made eye contact, quickly getting lost in each other.
"Do you two need a moment?" Heather Duke's mockery snapped the two girls back into reality, back into that high school bathroom, back with Heather and Heather.
Heather McNamara giggled. It wasn't a malicious giggle, it was simply a giggle. It slipped out as though she'd been holding it in since she woke up that morning.
"What? No! What are you even talking about? I was just looking at her." Chandler's intention was to snap at her, to scare her, but she tripped over the words. "I just think she could use a makeover." With that, she finally let go of Veronica's face. Why was this nerd so attractive to her?
"Yeah, sure." The Heather in the green stockings rolled her eyes. "I'm sure that was all."
"Are you sure?" McNamara asked, more than sincerely. The others couldn't quite tell if she didn't get the joke or if she was just playing along. Although it wasn't always the case, this time she got the joke. Heather had excellent gaydar.
"Whatever." Heather Chandler's curls bobbed as she turned back to face the only non-Heather in the room. "Are you in or are you out?"
"Of the closet!" Duke chimed in.
"Oh, I don't..." Veronica started to explain something, but even she wasn't sure what she was going to say.
"Do you want us to make you over?" The tallest Heather interrupted.
"Okay." Veronica replied, somewhat anxious.
The Heathers unzipped their bags and each pulled out some form of makeup or accessory. It was Heather Chandler who pulled out a blue blazer and a short skirt. How was she ready for this? How did she know? Had she spent a long time daydreaming about finding a cute girl to be the fourth member of their group? Cute? Cute in a heterosexual way, of course.
"Here." Heather Chandler handed the clothes to Veronica, who began to put the blazer on over what she'd put on that morning. She was wearing a crisp white button-down as a makeshift jacket over a baggy striped t-shirt.
"No, not like that." Chandler corrected her. "You'll have to take that off and put the white shirt on by itself first."
"Heather wants Veronica to take off her clothes!" Duke taunted.
"I do not!"
"Do too!"
"I do not!"
"Isn't that what you just asked her to do?" McNamara interjected.
"It's fine." Veronica spoke before the bickering resumed. "It's not really a makeover unless you change your clothes, is it?" She laughed her awkward laugh.
That laugh. Heather Chandler couldn't get over that laugh. Oh my god, she thought, why was Veronica so cute when she laughed? It was a sort of chuckle. It was a marvelous laugh. Heather got the sense that it was going to become her new favorite song to get stuck in her head. She absolutely hated herself for thinking up something so cheesy.
Veronica started taking off her clothes and that's when Heather turned away completely. She faced the mirror, pretending to fiddle with her hair and adjust her scrunchie.
"Do something useful!" She ordered the other Heathers. One of them began to shuffle through a green purse full of lipsticks as the other searched for her plastic yellow comb.
Facing the mirror turned out to be an awful idea. Heather could see Veronica in the reflection. She desperately tried not to stare. Veronica began to unbutton her shirt and Heather was definitely not looking. Don't look, don't look, don't look. Those two words echoed through her head.
Her bra was blue, which Heather only noticed because it was the same color as the clothes she'd handed her. It was like it was meant to be. Not that bras are really important. Well, they are. They hold up breasts. No, don't think about breasts. Don't think about Veronica's breasts. She'd just met this girl and for whatever reason she was like this. Heather's train of thought had officially crashed.
"Found it!" Duke triumphantly held up a tube of lipstick, just the right shade for Veronica. "Did you find your comb yet?"
"It's right here!" Heather McNamara smiled.
"Can we hold off on the makeup for a second?" Veronica pleaded. "I still need to put the skirt on."
"Heather, why aren't you doing anything?" Duke smirked. "This was your idea."
"Shut up! I'll help with her makeup." Chandler was being overly defensive.
Veronica removed her frumpy skirt in order to replace it with the short one she'd just been given. Heather swore to herself she wouldn't look at Veronica as she did this. Heather had always hated that stereotype that girls like her watched other girls change clothes. She was never like that.
Even now, Heather wasn't looking at Veronica out of some disgusting animalistic impulse like people always try to tell you that girls like her do. She just wanted to look and looking was all she currently wanted to do, really. Heather hated what people said about girls like her. It made her wish she wasn't a girl like her.
Veronica had great legs, but Heather was straight.
Veronica had a cute butt, but Heather was straight.
Veronica was stunning, but Heather was straight.
She tried to convince herself, over and over. She really tried, but it never worked. Heather Chandler was not straight.
Veronica was finally dressed. Heather turned around.
"Foundation. Concealer. Heather McNamara, do the blush while I do the eye shadow. No, use the other brush." As she demanded it, so it was. The Heathers worked in a quick frenzy. "Eye liner. Mascara." Heather Chandler demanded beauty supplies in much the same way that a surgeon calls an assistant for a scalpel.
"Last, but not least, lipstick!" Heather Duke declared. She handed it to Chandler, who applied it delicately, grateful to have an excuse to stare at Veronica's lips.
When they were all done, Veronica turned to look in the mirror. "Oh my god," She beamed. "I look beautiful."
She really did. Heather Chandler was attracted to this dork from the start. This makeover didn't make a difference, but she did appreciate seeing Veronica in a short skirt like that. Heather had always been good at keeping her sexuality a secret, but if Duke's taunts were any indication, she could tell that it was going to be much more difficult from now on.
Veronica Sawyer was going to be the death of her.