"Veronica really could stand to lose some weight, it would help her face to not look so bloated, honestly." I say after Veronica leaves to get drinks for Chandler and I.
Alright, to be frank, I don't hate Veronica that much. I really don't. Even if she doesn't really deserve to be in the Heathers and is way too clumsy and thinks her own stupid jokes are hilarious. What annoys me is that she has a crush on Chandler and Chandler doesn't even realize it. Veronica is always checking her out whenever Chandler isn't looking, she does anything Chandler wants all the fucking time; all she ever does when Chandler talks is stare at her lips. Honestly, Chandler's pretty damn smart; I don't know how she hasn't picked up on it by now.
"Shut up, Heather." Chandler says sharply to me, making me look up at her borderline murderous glare.
Instead of resorting to my usual, acquiescing, "sorry, Heather", I get kind of mad about it. Why does she care what I say about Veronica?
"Why do you care?"
"Because I'm trying to have some peace and quiet before I have to go back to my stupid fucking house and I'd rather my free time weren't filled up with stupid fucking comments like that, Heather."
"That's not what I meant."
"I don't know what else I could possibly care about." I know I'm pushing it, but surprisingly enough, Heather hasn't screeched at me yet.
"Just the other day I said that Heather's cheerleading uniform looked a little snug and it was probably because she's been getting popcorn the last few times we've gone to the movies and you didn't tell me to shut up then."
"Another day, another annoying, pointless thing to bring up. What fucking point are you even trying to make, honestly?"
"You told me you didn't care about Veronica."
"I never said I did care. And I still don't." Her voice is nearing the danger zone, but I'm almost fucking there.
"Then why did you say something about what I said about her but not Heather?"
"Because I wasn't in the mood! Christ on a stick, Heather, you are being so fucking annoying right now." Chandler says, her voice like ice and poison and everything hostile. "And I don't know how many more fucking times I have to tell you that I don't give a shit about Veronica. She's expendable, dispensable, not important, whatever the fuck you want to say. She's a source of rides and errands and forged notes, alright?"
"Whatever you say, Heather." I answer, trying to be antagonistic on purpose.
The weak, angry defense doesn't come right away. There's silence while she copies Veronica's chemistry homework, but she only makes it through a few questions before adding, "Do me a favor and stop over-interpreting my goddamn life."
"Sorry, Heather," I reply, not because I'm sorry, but because Chandler only gets really angry when she's hiding something, and I'm damn curious.
And when Veronica comes back with Chandler's sparkling water, I watch how her hand brushes Veronica's as she takes it, and how she leans her head against Veronica's shoulder as she finishes copying her chemistry homework. And how she reads the forged hall pass Veronica gives her for seventh hour over and over, even after Veronica leaves.
Even though the thing only has Chandler's name and some fake signature.
Besides, Heather Chandler hates reading.