I hope you enjoy this chapter! (Also: Who else is going to be alone on Valentine's Day? Well, I am!...Ha).

It wasn't the first time I saw a corpse.

The first time I saw a dead body was one of the times I attended my dad's 'deconstruction' jobs. It was somewhere in Massachusetts - near Medford. I was nine at time, and my dad decided I was old enough to join him. My mom was pretty reluctant, but he managed to convince her.

The job was pretty standard: The council ordered for a destruction of a building. Dad nosedived into the deal, promised with big bucks and more publicity.

I was on the curb, sitting with my hands on my knees. I halfheartedly listened to my dad's conversations. We were on winter break - a dreaded event for someone who couldn't go out and do anything like other families - so we ended up following my dad closer than usual.

I just wanted to go home. To sit in front of the tv and watch some stupid cartoon shows. To drink orange juice and talk to my imaginary friends.

However, I couldn't now. The clear signal was given, and the building was ready to blow.

No one realized that one remained behind a wall.

I remember how loud it all was. The big boom - the crashing that followed. Windows shattered, brick crumbled, and all was gone. Only rubble remained. However, as I squinted my eyes, I saw it.

She hadn't lasted a second. I heard her scream - quick, and soul breaking.

My dad was the first to alert everyone. He glanced at me, a bit befuddled. He looked to what I was staring at. "Shit," he grunted.

An ambulance arrived minutes later. They recovered her body. I had barely saw it in detail, but I saw the blood seeping out of her skull. Apparently a piece of concrete or something had hit her head, killing her almost instantly. She had lived long enough to scream.

I didn't cry. I only stared and couldn't stop gasping for air. My mom came soon enough, screaming my name. She was the one crying. She told me that the dead woman was just sleeping, and would wake up soon.

"When?" I had asked.

"Soon, baby, soon. She'll wake up in heaven," she had sobbed. "Just like you will - just like dad and I. But that'll won't be for such a long time, baby."

She hugged me tighter. "Just like Grandpa?" I murmured, looking blankly at the rubble.

"Just like Grandpa. In heaven, him and all the people get along just fine. Even the jerks that like to tease and hurt you. Everyone isn't divided, mean or ignorant."

I liked the idea of heaven. I liked the idea that no one really died - that they were just asleep.

Everyone was nice to each other. Harmony at last.

But my dad? He didn't think so kindly of my mom's claims. I heard them talking that night.

"Jesus, Cath. You can't fill Jason's head with bullshit like that!"

"How else am I supposed to explain your little 'mishap'? You know that. Besides, he's nine years old. A kid his age should never see anything like that."

"He needs to grow up soon."

"What he needs, Bud, is a loving family."

"You're not exactly parent of the year."

"Neither are you, Bud. You know what? When - and I mean when, not if, but when we get divorced, Jason's coming with me. He deserves a proper upbringing."

I fell asleep after that. I didn't want to hear how my asshole of a dad would respond.

I had hoped I'd never see a corpse again. I didn't want to feel empty again - the sense of horror and helplessness. And, here I was.

Staring into the face of another dead body.

It took me a second to process that she was dead. I glanced at Veronica, who was in total shock as well. She sat there, unblinking. I staggered over to Heather's vanity, and almost collapsed on her stool. I couldn't breath.

Veronica was still standing there. "She's dead. Oh my god," she uttered hoarsely. "I just killed my best friend."

"And your worst enemy," I remarked in a wobbly voice.

"Same difference!"

I knew I wasn't going to cry - I never cried. Sure, I would yell and shut down, but never cry. Haven't done that since freshman year. Chandler didn't even deserve to be mourned. How the hell didn't I notice Veronica taking that mug? It was so obvious. Now this corpse wasn't just a stranger, a shell of a human being. She wasn't just sleeping. Heather Chandler, the mythic bitch of the century - was across from me, lifeless.

Someone would find out what we did. Veronica would go to prison. My dad would begrudgingly bail me out, and we would move across the country. We'd never return to Ohio.

My life was already a pile of shit. I didn't need this to make it worse.

"JD!"

I looked over at Veronica. "Um, I'm just a little freaked, here. Did you, ah, say something?"

She sulked over, leaning on the vanity. "Her parents usually come home around nine or ten - we don't have much time. Oh my god. They can't know. We'll go to jail if they catch us."

Veronica paced around the room for a good four or five minutes, mumbling to herself. I couldn't keep my eyes off of the stiff lump surrounded by glass. Everything was numb, surprisingly. I could feel my heart pounding - my body trembling. I really couldn't breath. Shit, this really was our lives. Would my dad bail me out? Probably not. He's never liked me.

I tensed as Veronica touched my shoulder. "Okay," she began, unsteady. "Maybe, just maybe, we can fix this."

"How?"

"I can fake almost anyone's handwriting - including Heather's."

She reached over to the drawer besides me, pulling out a pen and paper. "Maybe we can fake this."

"Like a note?"

"Yeah, like a note," she agreed.

Veronica waited for me to comment, but nothing could come out. She began writing, reading what she wrote as she went along. "You might think what I've done is shocking."

She glanced back over to me, waiting.

I couldn't respond. "But, to me, it describes the innermost turmoil that consumed my life," she breathed slowly, and continued composing. "People think that just because you're beautiful and popular, life is easy and fun. No one understood, I had feelings too."

"I die knowing no one knew the real me."

She nodded. "Good idea. Hey, this isn't too bad," she laid the note on Heather's desk. Veronica stared down at the corpse, her expression blank. She closed her eyes. "Okay, now we just have to get out of here."

Veronica shuffled over to the door, glancing back at me. She waited anxiously, every odd noise startling her.

Corey - or whatever that dog's name was - started barking. I didn't think too much of it until I heard the front door squeak open.

At that moment, both Veronica and I froze. Bug-eyed, she raced towards the window, budging it open. She held it open for a second.

"JD?" she called, nodding towards the outside.

I rose up from the stool, green eyes trained on dark brown. She went first, landing on the roof. I hopped out, ignoring the fact that a corpse laid in the midst of her own blood, drain cleaner and glass.

The jump from there wasn't that high. Both of us were able to land into the thornless bushes below, only perturbed by the screams of Mrs. and Mr. Chandler.

I winced and Veronica ran.

We scrambled towards the gate, tearing through the surrounding trees' hefty branches to reveal my motorcycle.

We got on. I started to drive.

Speeding off. Leaving behind a horror scene for the Chandlers. Renouncing the wrong we had done.

Just...driving away. To nowhere - somewhere far, far away.

I stopped at the outskirts of town, pulling on the curb. If we went any farther, I'd be out of gas and we'd have to walk home. If we dared to, anyway.

Veronica almost fainted, falling into a bed of grass. I stayed put, lighting up a cigarette. I watched as she slowly regained her composure, sitting up in the field and staring up at the sky.

She picked a dandelion, tousling it in her fingers. Expressionless. "We really did it," she droned. "She's gone."

Veronica continued lumbering on, endlessly listing the affects of our simple, yet not so simple mistake. She became white noise as I wandered over to the small hill that overlooked Sherwood.

Heather's property was unheard of in the midst of the woods, but the familiar outline of Westerberg, the Snappy Snack Shack, and my shabby neighborhood dotted the landscape. The streets and halls that Heather had walked. The people that Heather had ridiculed, dated, befriended and tolerated still present in the town. The very fact that I had seen her alive and healthy forty minutes ago. All of these still present, even after her death.

I bit my lip, glancing away from the scenery. With a successful attempt to smooth my trench coat, I stepped back to Veronica.

She was staring at the tiny flowers in the field. Silent and tugging at her hair.

"Veronica?" I murmured, leaning down to meet her eyes.

She sighed, shaking her head. "Sorry. Jesus - We should go. I should go. My mom is still home, and she'll want me home soon." Veronica smiled dishonestly, brushing my hair. "We'll deal with this shit later."

"Veronica, don't you think this is a thing that, uh, is more than important to deal with?" I asked.

"It's covered, Jason -"

I sat by her, narrowing my eyes.

"Don't call me Jason."

" - Okay? Well, everything's sorted. Heather killed herself. We're fine, and I really have to go home," she stuttered, standing up.

She was technically right. The Chandlers would - well, now found their daughter dead with a suicide note on her desk. What else would they think happened? The handwriting was exact...

...But, she didn't show any signs of depression. Not even a utterance of sadness. Nothing.

I watched as Veronica strolled over and waited by my motorcycle, tranquil and content.

How was she content? Chandler was dead. I'm not one for empathy, but Jesus Christ. The bitch was dead. Veronica should be a little more shocked. Even for a few more seconds.

I followed her, looking back at the view of Sherwood. The town would be in chaos either later today or tomorrow.

I drove to Veronica's house, the drive there a little - uncanny. The streets were free of cars, sidewalks of people, and houses of lights. It was around the afternoon, so where was everyone?

We arrived at her home a couple minutes later. She didn't jump off straight away.

"JD?" she asked in a tremulous voice. "Why don't you let people call you Jason?"

I sighed, leaning against her. "Only people to just call me Jason are either dead or on the other side of the country."

She grimaced, stepping off of the motorcycle. "Way to lighten the mood. What is on the other side of the country?"

"It's more of a matter 'who' is that far away, Veronica."

She rolled her eyes, chuckling. "Later, loser."

It was almost like Heather Chandler wasn't dead, and we were stereotypical duo of an angsty boyfriend and his rebellious, rich girlfriend.

Almost.

This was a fun chapter to write. It's a bit long, to be honest. Oh well.

Veronica seems to be a bit more confident than JD is. I wonder if she'll do the same as the canon JD, or try something else to rid Westerberg of the cliques...All we know is that JD tied to Veronica until they die.

Also: I have a Tumblr ask blog for this universe now. Mind stopping by just to follow or even leave an ask? Well, I'll leave the link here: (Remove spaces)

askroleswappedjdandveronica. tumblr. com

By the way, thanks for twelve follows and nine favorites. I can't believe how quickly this has been becoming more and more popular. Thank you for everything.

Responses to Reviews

Anna The Oreo Artist: I'm glad you're enjoying it as much as I am! :)

SweetRiceball20: Things will only escalate from here. So...I hope you're ready for the ride. It's gonna be a long one.

Thanks for reading. Have a wonderful day.