1. Greetings And Salutations

Vance Sawyer sat with his back to his locker, as the other teenagers walked through the halls. They drifted past him in a blur, as he began to write in his journal, cleverly hidden in his school notebook.

September 15th, 1988

I hate my friends. I know, what a revelation, right?

I remember how elated I felt when Heathcliff Chandler came up to me and allowed me to be a part of his group. The Heathers were feared by everyone in Westerburg High. If anyone even looked at them funny, they were socially destroyed. They made sure that everyone in school knew their place. They maintained order, they kept us all in check.

They never even noticed me until Heaton Duke saw me perfectly forge my doctor's signature to get out of sports one day. While he thought I was a "sissy" for wanting to get out of doing sports (his word), he thought I had a gift.

I was suddenly useful to them, and thus, I was recruited to become a Heather.

That moment should have been the beginning of the rest of my life; forever revelling in the ecstasy caused by hundreds of eyes gawking at me as I walked down the halls.

It didn't last.

It only took a day for me to realise that I was much better off living as a nobody, than feeling enslaved by my three new horrible friends. A FUCKING DAY. They were so hateful to everyone, and no one deserved it. But all I could do was just let it happen.

I was just their puppet, and I wish they'd all just d

"Son of a bitch!" Vance shrieked, as Heath McNamara kicked him in the shin, causing him to stop writing. He quickly threw the books back into his bag.

He looked up to see the three Heathers stood above him in their usual places; Heathcliff in the middle, Heaton and Heath stood either side of him.

"Cafeteria. Now." Heathcliff glared coldly, before swiftly exiting the hall, his two henchmen trailing behind.

Rolling his eyes, Vance stood up and reluctantly followed them.

As they made their way into the cafeteria, Vance looked out at the sea of rich kids, jocks, cheerleaders, stoners, nerds and social rejects; trying to predict which one of them would be on Heathcliff's hit list that day.

At the table right at the far back, he spotted a girl. She had long dark hair, and was dressed all in black with a leather jacket. The girl was sat all alone, but she didn't seem to mind. Vance didn't recognise her, so he guessed she may have been a new student.

The girl locked eyes with Vance, giving him a confused glance, followed by a smile.

He decided to smile back.

"Now, Vance." Heathcliff began, breaking his concentration. "Before we get started with the lunchtime poll, I need you to do something for me. You see Martin Dumptruck over there?"

He turned his head to see a slightly overweight boy, casually eating his lunch with the other unpopular kids. His real name was Martin Dunnstock, but everyone nicknamed him 'Dumptruck' because of his size. It sickened Vance to think of just how insensitive that was.

"This morning, the dickhead just walked straight into me," he continued angrily. "And I hear he has a bit of a thing for Kristen Kelly...I mean, who doesn't, right?"

"She's hot." Heath added.

"Anyway, I need you to forge a love letter in her handwriting."

Vance raised an eyebrow. "Seriously, Heathcliff? I don't have anything against the guy."

"So, you have something against me? Against the Heathers?"

"We saved you, Vance." Heaton chimed in. "We dragged you out of isolation, we lifted you out of the pit of hell that you were in. We're practically saints!"

A bit dramatic, Vance thought to himself.

"And you won't even do us this one favour?" Heathcliff said in mock sadness. "So, this is the thanks we get."

"Fine, I'll do it." He sighed.

"Good. Heaton, bend over."

Without hesitation, Heaton Duke bent over so that Vance could use his back as a table to pen the letter. Taking out one of this notebooks from his bag, he began to write as Heathcliff dictated exactly what he wanted him to say.

Dear Martin,

You're so sweet. I've liked you for a long time. I wish you'd come and sit with me and my cheerleader friends; I'd love for everyone to know how I feel about you. I know you like me too, and we shouldn't hide our feelings anymore.

Love, Kristen x

When the note was written, Heaton stood up and Vance tore the page from his book, folding the piece of paper up. Heathcliff nodded at Heath, in some sort of unspoken code, and he crept up to Martin, dropping the note onto his tray without him noticing. Quickly, Heath walked back to his friends.

"So, what's the lunchtime poll question, Heathcliff?" Heaton asked.

"Heaton, you were there when I wrote it!"

"...I forgot."

"Well, here it is: you inherit five million dollars. And, on the same day, aliens land on the Earth and say that they're gonna blow it up in two days. What do you do?"

Heathcliff looked to his friends with wide, excited eyes, clearly very proud of his question. It took a few seconds for it to register, but Heath and Heaton soon looked on board with the idea. Vance, however, was just cynical.

"I'm a genius, right?" He chuckled. "Come on, Sawyer, let's go and ask the cheerleaders and football team."

The two of them got out of their seat and as they wandered through the hall, Vance caught sight of the new girl he had seen earlier. She was still looking back at him, with a slightly bemused manner.

"Do we have to restrict the question to just them?" Vance asked Heathcliff.

"Who else are we gonna ask? Benny Finn?" He replied sarcastically. "Come on, Vance; you're a Heather now. You're above all the nobodies. All the girls either want you as a friend or a fuck. You can sleep with any girl on the cheerleading team."

"But I don't want to sleep with any of them."

"You're being ridiculous," said Heathcliff, before beckoning him over to a group of jocks.

"I just think we should talk to different types of people," Vance tried to reason with him. "The more answers the better, right?"

"...Fine."

The lunchtime poll question had been answered by almost everyone, creating a bizarre range of answers. With every second that Heathcliff had to spend with the unpopular people, he felt his mental state deteriorating. How dare they breathe the same air as me? He thought.

"Vance! Look, look!" Heathcliff nudged Vance suddenly, watching the scene unfold before him.

Martin Dunnstock had read the forged note, and the widest grin possible spread across his clueless face. As he began to approach Kristen's table, Vance's stomach began to churn.

The poor guy, he thought pityingly. He doesn't need this.

"Hi, Kristen..." Martin smiled shyly.

Kristen looked at her best friend, Rose, and she tried to suppress a laugh. "Can I help you, Dumptruck?"

The poor kid seemed to be sweating. "I...I just wanted to know...if I could...maybe...sit with you? I got your note."

"What?" Kristen asked in amusement.

Martin's face dropped. "The note...the one you left on my tray?...You said you liked me-"

Kristen Kelly and Rose Sweeney erupted into a fit of laughter at the very thought of this. "I never sent you a note! Why would I like you?"

"Hey, everybody!" Rose yelled out suddenly, standing up and grabbing everyone's attention. "Martin Dumptruck thinks Kristen likes him!"

Right on cue, the whole cafeteria was filled with everyone cruelly chuckling at Martin's expense, except for Benny Finn, Vance and, obviously, Martin - who proceeded to quickly leave the room; his face tomato red.

Vance glanced at the mysterious new girl, and she instantly held eye contact again. This time she was shaking her head slowly at him, looking disappointed. Whether she was disappointed in Vance, the Heathers or anyone else, he wasn't sure. However, he was just relieved to find another person who didn't find that prank funny at all.

Then he realised that she had been the only person in the room who hadn't been asked the lunchtime poll question.

"Are we done with the poll?" Vance asked the Heathers, who were all still laughing.

"I guess so," Heaton shrugged. "It looks like we've asked everyone."

"Well...we could ask her...couldn't we?" He asked, directing his gaze to the new girl.

"Jennifer Dean? Really?" Heath sighed.

"How do you know her?"

"She's in my American History," he told him. "I guess she transferred recently, I don't know. I've never spoken to her, she seems weird."

"Okay, then I'll ask Jennifer myself." Vance said, a smirk beginning to form on his lips.

He wandered down to her table right at the back of the cafeteria, not looking away from each other. Jennifer started to smile back.

"Hello, Jennifer Dean." Vance grinned.

"Greetings and salutations," she giggled. "You're not a Heather, are you?"

"Oh god, no," he replied, making a face. "I'm Vance Sawyer. I hope you don't mind, but I need to ask you a question."

"Fire away, Vance." Jennifer replied positively, leaning back casually in her chair.

He was slightly stunned by her personality. Jennifer seemed to be a loner, and because of that, Vance expected her to be one of those shy, quiet personality types. Yet, that seemed to be the complete opposite. The way she spoke and carried herself in conversations gave that away; she exuded so much confidence.

"You inherit five million dollars," he told her. "Then aliens land on the Earth and say that they're gonna blow it up in two days. What do you do with the money?"

Jennifer hesitated. "That's the stupidest question I've ever heard."

"Trust me, I know."

She thought about it for a little while. "Well...let's say you and I take a boat out into the middle of a lake somewhere. I'll bring along a bottle of tequila, my sax and some Bach. Would you like that, Vance?" Jennifer said smoothly, on the verge of being seductive.

Vance was almost speechless. It seemed as though she was coming onto him, and he couldn't tell if he was attracted to her, or unnerved by her. Maybe it was both.

"How...very-"

"Vance, let's get outta here." Heathcliff huffed. As it had turned out, Vance was so enthralled by Jennifer that he didn't notice Heathcliff walking up to him.

He sighed, before turning back to Jennifer. "Later."

"Definitely." She winked.

Heathcliff dragged Vance away, after shooting Jennifer a death glare. In response, she gave him a wry smile.

"What's your damage, Heathcliff?" Vance asked him as they headed off to the other side of the lunch hall.

"My damage?" He retorted. "Says the guy who seemed to be getting a little too friendly with Joan Jett over there. I don't like her, Sawyer."

"You don't even know her."

"Neither do you," he said coldly. "And I suggest you keep it that way, otherwise you'll be cut off."

Kristen and Rose had been watching Jennifer's interactions with Vance for the entire time, and seemed equally as suspicious.

"She looks so weird," Rose said in disgust. "Who wears all black and nothing else?"

Kristen appeared to be furious. "Did you see the way she was talking to Vance Sawyer? She was clearly flirting with him! He's meant to be my date to the prom!"

"He hasn't actually asked you yet, Kristen."

"No, but he will. As long as that bitch doesn't get in there first." She replied. "Besides, I have to, because you're going with Heath McNamara, and everyone else on the squad is already paired up. Anyway, I'm way hotter than that...that thing over there!"

"Vance would be an idiot to choose that girl over you," Rose agreed. "I say we teach her a lesson."

The two cheerleaders strutted over to Jennifer's table, ready to tear her apart, emotionally. They both took seats on the opposite side, without her permission. Although they tried to intimidate her, Jennifer's expression did not appear to change.

"Hi. You're new here, so we'll go easy on you, for now." Kristen fake smiled at her. "But, you know that guy you were just talking to? Yeah...he's my prom date, and therefore, off-limits. Being new, you probably wouldn't have known that, but now that you do, there's no excuse. Back off."

"Yeah, this school has a no sluts allowed rule," Rose added.

Jennifer continued to lean back in her chair coolly, unfazed by the threat. "Well, they seem to have an open door policy for assholes though, don't they?"

The two cheerleaders looked at each other, somewhat shocked.

"I'm sorry," Kristen scowled. "Did you just call us assholes?"

"You didn't hear me?" Jennifer grinned. "Allow me to repeat myself."

In that moment, she got out of her chair, and pulled a gun out of her jacket pocket. Kristen and Rose screamed, instinctively getting out of their chairs. Everyone turned around to see what all the trouble was.

BANG. BANG.

Jennifer Dean fired two gunshots, then sat down as if nothing had happened.

The shots had just been blanks, but it was enough to petrify the cheerleaders into dashing out of the cafeteria. It looked as though they wouldn't be messing with her again.

The whole room was silent.

"Do you like her now?" Heathcliff muttered to Vance.

Vance could barely focus on what he was saying, as his eyes could not move away from Jennifer Dean. He was even more enchanted by her than he was before.

And he couldn't explain why.