Thursday afternoon, cheer practice. Mac was getting dressed to go home, hoping to just go to sleep as soon as she got home and showered. She was exhausted beyond belief, as practice had been particularly strenuous. Homecoming was coming up, and the routine was rather difficult, putting it lightly. She was pulling up her skirt, when suddenly she heard a camera shutter. She jumped a little and saw Heather Chandler with a camera.
"Hey, Heather...what're you doing? I'm trying to change in here!" Mac uttered, quickly pulling her skirt up. She threw on her blouse fast and began quickly buttoning it.
"Well, the janitor was asking me to take pictures of the particularly mildewy spots in the locker rooms, if you must know. I'm not taking pictures of anyone, I was actually aiming upwards." Chandler explained, being the perfect liar.
'So naive…' The red Heather thought to herself, taking a few more shots around the room, as if she was actually seeing any "mildew". Chandler knew she had to be very convincing to fool Mac.
"Just get changed, won't you? My camera won't bite." She teased, glancing over at Mac. Mac rolled her eyes and put on her blazer and slipped on her flats.
"Whatever Chandler" The blonde muttered, grabbing her bag. "See you later?"
"Yeah, see you." Chandler replied, smirking slightly as Mac walked out. She didn't even know.
'Mac is dumb as fuck, my God. Now, I have to get these copied and developed…" Chandler thought to herself as she exited the locker room. She thought herself to be the cleverest girl in the school for this one.
"If this doesn't destroy her, nothing will." She drove off to the drug store to get the photos printed, and once she had them she got to work.
The next school day, Heather arrived to laughter. She didn't know why, but when she found her locker vandalized, she was clued in to the reason behind these jeers. Her locker was covered in sharpie marker, vulgar words etched in with pocket knives, and possibly pig's blood.
"Go to hell, Slutnamara." The message wrote. She began to tear up, unable to comprehend why this all happened. That's when she looked around at other people's lockers, and there they were. There were pictures, candid pictures, of her half naked. She just started to cry, running right into the girl's bathroom.
"Heather!" She heard a voice say, knocking on the bathroom stall door. "Are you okay?" Asked Veronica, worried sick about her friend. "I saw what happened, it's disgusting- not you, whoever did this" She tried to get the door open. McNamara opened the door, hugging Veronica tightly.
"Chandler did this, I know this she did!" She cried, hugging the her blue bestie.
"I don't doubt it, Mac. Don't worry, we'll get those pictures removed as soon as possible…" Veronica stroked the blonde's hair. "It's gonna be okay"
Mac just whimpered and hugged her, unable to think of anything but how hopeless she felt. She knew people were going to mock her as soon a she left this bathroom.
"P-Please walk me to class." She said, wiping the tears from her eyes. "And… is JD here today?"
"I called him actually, and left him a voicemail. I think he wanted to skip today, but I think it's better if he's here to... y'know, be here." Veronica responded,
"Maybe I should skip too. I can't deal with this shit, I'm ruined." McNamara continued to sniffle and whimper, trying her best to wipe the running mascara from her cheeks.
"I'll skip with you- but first and foremost, let's find JD. You wanted to do that, right?"
"Y-Yeah…" She said, grabbing her stuff from her practically demolished locker. "Let's go find him…."
Veronica grabbed her own things as well and brought Heather to where she knew JD was - the 7/11 down the street from his own. She just knew it somehow, like a sixth sense.
There he was, sipping a cherry slushie, his eyebrow raised when he saw the sobbing image of his girlfriend, and her first desperately making an attempt to comfort her.
"What the fuck happened?" he asked, visibly enraged as he took the blonde into his arms.
"She ruined me, I'm ruined." Was all Heather could say in response. "They're call me names, they're saying I'm fat…" She sniffled and buried her face into his chest. She was practically inconsolable.
Veronica took a deep breath and looked at JD, who now gently stroked Heather's hair and poorly attempted to hide his burning rage.
"Heather Chandler took some candid pictures of her while she was changing and posted them all over school. I think every locker got a copy, plus a nice little note about how much of a 'pig slut' Mac is. I took some of them down, but Westerberg is huge, I don't think I can." Veronica explained, a tinge of fear in her voice. She didn't have anything to do with the cruel stunt, but she could see JD's rage. It shook her to her core; she'd never seen someone so upset.
"Is that so?" Jason raised an eyebrow. "Did Chandler hurt you, baby doll?"
Mac nodded. "I knew she would. She hates me, she hates me more than anything!" She began to sob again.
"We're going home, don't worry. I'll take care of this...I'll take care of you...I'll take care of her." He grimaced as he walked out, setting McNamara on his motorbike and whisking her off to his home. Veronica watched. Something was terribly wrong about this, but she didn't know what. Something about the words "I'll take care of her" made her feel sick to her stomach. She shuddered in disgust, going to her car. He would just punch a few holes in his wall, calm down and just help Heather recover from this traumatic experience- or at least, that's what she hoped he would do. She knew JD was a little off, but surely his off-ness wouldn't make him violent, or at least that's what she had to keep telling herself. She lit a cigarette and drove to her own house, putting the concept of a violent, cruel Jason Dean from her mind.
"Baby, everything's going to be okay." JD reassured, doing his best to make Heather feel comfortable in his small, somewhat run-down home. "You're going to be fine, and Chandler's going to pay for this." He carried her inside and brought her to his bed, letting her kick off her shoes and lie down. "Rest up, sweetheart. All that crying must be exhausting…"
Heather nodded in response and went to wipe the mascara tears from her cheeks, but JD stopped her.
"Don't get makeup on your blazer. I'll get you a rag." He said, going into the bathroom and grabbing a washcloth, wetting it with warm water. "Here, wash that stuff off your face."
"Oh...thank you…" She wiped all the makeup off of her face, revealing the fact she had light freckles under the foundation she usually wore.
"Cute." He said simply, taking the rag once she was done with it.
"What's cute about me? Don't you know, I'm hideous. A pig slut" She covered her face in shame once more, remembering the mean words the demon queen of Westerberg had branded her with.
"Now, that isn't true at all. You aren't a pig or a slut." JD gently pulled Heather's hands away from her face. "Quite the opposite. You're beautiful"
"You mean it?" She said, finally ending her cries.
"Of course I do. I mean it more than I've ever meant anything I've ever said." Jason replied, kissing her nose. "You know I love you"
"And I love you too" Mac replied, smiling slightly. She hugged him.
"Now, we ought to do something about that bitch, huh?" JD started, pulling away from the hug only to hold her pale, soft hands in his.
"What's that? Spread her naked pictures everywhere?"
"Please, everyone's already seen her naked" He laughed a little bit. "And she calls you a slut. People are allowed to do what they wanna do, but man… she's the poster child for genital herpes."
"Yeah, I guess that wouldn't work, would it?" Mac replied, still brainstorming for revenge plots. "What if we gave her weight-gain bars under the guise they're for weight-loss?"
"Wouldn't teach her much." JD replied simply, patting her head. "Maybe if someone commits a lesser offense against you, sure."
"Right… well, she has a party this weekend! Maybe we could crash it?" Mac suggested.
"You're getting warmer, but I have a better idea. Let's give her a hangover cure she's sure to remember." JD smirked, a small glimmer of evil in his caramel eyes. "What say you to that, dearest?"
"Sounds like a plan"