Heather answered the door with a smug look on her face. "Well, well, look who finally decided to join us," she taunted.

"I came to make sure you hadn't murdered Martha and gotten us all in trouble already," Veronica clarified, holding her notebook protectively to her chest.

"Martha's fine," Heather rolled her eyes, stepping aside to let Veronica in. Martha, at the moment, was perfectly fine like Heathered claimed. She was sitting on the bed while Heather did her make up and Heather's bony fingers curled her hair. Martha let out a giggle as the blonde girl tickled her face with a brush.

"Hold still," Heather whined, her golden hair falling over her shoulders.

"I'm trying," Martha giggled again.

"You're going to make me mess up," Heather threatened as she pinned another curl.

"See?" Heather asked rhetorically. "Now sit down while I do your hair," she commanded.

"My hair?" Veronica questioned incredulously.

"You won't have to close your eyes and I assume you're going to want to continue writing whatever condescending judgements you have in your diary that you snuck in," Heather explained exasperated.

"What are you going to do to my hair?" Veronica was still suspicious.

"Well, Heather's using my curlers, and my pins for Martha, so looks like you'll have to deal with braids." Heather pointed to the curlers rolled up in Heather's black hair and the bowl of pins she was using for Martha.

"Christ Heather, how much contraband do you have?" Veronica swore.

Heather smirked, "You let them get distracted by a flat iron and you can get away with anything. I would have brought my nail polish too if they hadn't been checking for liquids."

Veronica sat down like she was instructed and let Heather begin to brush her hair. She didn't really know what could be done with her hair, as short as it was, but also didn't really care. Nor did she care if Heather looked over her shoulder and saw what she was writing, the girl had already guessed what type of stuff was going in her diary anyway.

Martha's fine, astonishingly. Heather is doing her makeup while Heather is doing her hair. And I'm getting my hair slowly ripped out of my head by the demon queen of high school.

"I am not pulling that hard, you're a pussy," Heather objected.

"So Veronica," Marth asked eagerly, Heather had finished her makeup and was now helping pin the rest of her hair up. "What did you do while you were gone? Did you go exploring? I think we should find the kitchen next."

"I bet she stayed and talked to Jesse James," Heather mused, tilting Veronica's head forward before she could answer for herself.

"I did," Veronica confirmed irritably, "he's weird. That third person thing? He doesn't stop, it's like how he speaks naturally."

Since when did I become such a gossip? here I am talking to these girls I've just met like we're all best friends at a sleepover discussing boys.

"I think maybe he's just lonely," Martha said cheerfully, Veronica was mildly confused how she could sound cheerful about it. "Maybe we should invite him to join us."

"Invite the kid who would bring a gun to school to join us in doing each other's make up?" Veronica could feel Heather's eyebrow raise.

"We don't know anything about him, just that he's here for cutting. And that's actually pretty sad." Martha pointed out, making Veronica pause.

"Funny, he said the same thing," Veronica said, though not sounding amused. "About no knowing him. At the very least we'd know what type of guy he is."

"Fine," Heather relented, as she did something that felt like tying a knot in Veronica's hair. "We'll go after hair is finished."

"Ooohhh, I can't wait to see what I look like," Martha gushed. "Do you think I'll finally be beautiful?"

"Martha you're already beautiful," Heather said, as she gave another yank Veronica could feel all the way down to her skull. "You'll just finally look it."

I have to admit, Heather did a nice job on my hair.

Veronica admired herself in the mirror one last time.

Maybe she should become a beautician, my hair looks like it's been braided into a crown of flowers. No way this wouldn't be popular for prom.

"Beauty is pain, honey. I take it you like it?" Heather inquired as she reapplied her red lipstick. Heather was wrapping her and Martha's curls in a headscarf while Heather brushed up her own makeup.

"It's very, Heather, I'll give you that," Veronica admitted.

"We should get some celebratory ice cream!" Heather chirped, putting Heather's makeup away and spinning in a twirl of yellow skirts. Martha agreed clapping her hands excitedly.

"You guys can go on ahead, I'll clean up," Heather offered, collecting the remaining hair pins and putting them in a baggie.

"No, you're coming too," Heather said in a way that sounded like a snapping fingers command. "Come on, Heather, you need to know where the kitchen is. Maybe we'll find some frozen yogurt."

Heather looked apprehensive as she played with the hem of her skirt but nodded.

"Maybe they'll have mind ice cream, it'd match your skirt," Martha tried.

"No that would be very," Veronica said, pointing to Martha in agreement.

They all followed Heather, who had taken role as designated line leader somehow, into the kitchen. Veronica had slight suspicion on how the girl knew where everything was, or maybe it was special powers that came from that red scrunchie.

Perhaps fittingly, JD was already in the kitchen. He didn't appear to be doing anything sitting at one of the bar stools. "Greetings and salutations," he said to all four of them with a two fingered salute.

"Hi I'm Martha!" Martha said eagerly, waving back at him. A look crossed JD's face like he was watching a kitten play with a piece of string.

"What are you doing in the kitchen?" he asked, and Veronica started to think maybe he'd talk in first person this time. "Aren't you supposed to be in your room silently plotting our deaths?" he looked straight at Heather, who gave an indignant huff in response. Veronica took a seat at another bar stool.

Ran into JD in the kitchen, what are the odds? Still doing that weird game. Martha's trying to make a friend out of him. Maybe she had a point about at least going through the motions of inviting him.

"I bet you're all wondering what I'm doing in the kitchen all by my lonesome," Veronica murmured.

JD looked at her with fascination, like he had when she'd played his game earlier. "Any particular reason you're eating ice?" he answered.

"Yes there is, let me tell you," Veronica watched him out of the corner of her eye as Heather dug around the freezer for ice cream. Heather got spoons and Heather got bowls. Martha took a seat next to Veronica, possibly oblivious to the tension in the room.

"I bet it's a coping mechanism," he explained. "A way to hurt yourself without causing any actual harm."

"Want to know if it works?" she continued, if JD had a problem with her pressing, she was sure he would deflect or simply walk away.

Instead he shrugged, "Even if it doesn't it's all you've got."

"Found some ice cream!" Heather announced proudly in a sing-song manner, waving the container victoriously in the air. "And look, mint chocolate chip."

"What's the serving size, and what are the calories per serving?" Heather asked, clutching the spoons with a white-knuckle grasp.

"Early dessert," Heather reasoned, handing out the bowls. She looked apprehensively at JD before offering him one as well.

"I figured, if you are plotting our deaths, I should be nice to you so maybe you'll reconsider me," he remarked, accepting the bowl. Heather looked away uneasily.

Have you ever heard of someone being snarky after being offered ice cream?

"Hey, she offered you a bowl, be grateful," Heather snapped, opening the tub of ice cream.

Does he have something against ice cream?

At that moment Kurt and Ram also decided to walk into the kitchen. "Are you guys having an ice cream party and didn't invite us?" Ram asked, sounding genuine.

Everyone's here, now it's truly a party like Ram said.

"No, but would you like some ice cream?" Martha asked.

"Sweet!" Ram exclaimed, getting two more bowls out while Heather divvied out spoons.

JD's watching us all with eyes lit up like a Christmas tree and he's not saying anything. You know what they say, no one plans a murder out loud.

"We only have one carton, so don't eat all of it, you jocks," Heather warned, dishing out her and Heather's ice cream before passing it to Heather.

"Oh, well they can have mine if we don't have enough-" Heather tried but was cut off by Heather.

"No, eat your ice cream, it matches your skirt. If Kurt and Ram are that big of pigs than they can find something else," her red nails tapping against the bowl.

"Oh! Veronica, Heather, Heather, Heather, and I were wondering if you guys wanted to join us for hair and makeup." Martha said as she received her bowl.

"Hair?" Kurt questioned, running a hand through his own.

"So you're not opposed to the makeup?" Heather teased.

Ram shrugged. "Why would we be? Sounds fun."

I'm going to try not to get ice cream on you. Kurt and Ram have agreed to come do makeup with us, who would have thought? JD's still watching us though, with an undiscernible look on his face. I still think he's plotting our deaths. And now we'll be gathered in a small confined area.

"Does this invitation extend to everyone?" JD finally spoke again.

"If you're agreeing to have your makeup done," Heather clarified.

"What if you'd rather do someone else's makeup?" JD hadn't taken any ice cream for himself and instead popped an ice cube in his mouth.

"Only if you promise not to kill us all and make it look like a mass suicide." JD bit down on the ice cube with a smirk, Veronica didn't trust him.

I think we're all about to die.

AN:: Aww, look. Heather's nice! (kind of sort of) Veronica's slowly learning to trust and not judge everyone.

And yes, I'm going to not use any of the Heathers' last names. Hopefully I'm doing a good job of distinguishing them.