Sorry I didn't post this sooner! I had a lot of stuff to do, and it's been really stressful...Forgive me.

Something about McNamara's writhing, sobbing form seemed to cause me to feel more than guilt. I couldn't tell if it was the mascara running down her cheeks, or the bitter cries she emulated - but something caused me to approach her.

Graduation day was moved to Tuesday, which left us stuck in Mrs. Lockwood's fifth period. The sudden deaths called for another brief grief session.

"Hey, Heather," I murmured. She turned her head slowly, brushing the frizzed blonde hair back away from her face. "You doing all right?"

The blonde sniffed, wiping away the tears from her face. "I - I just can't believe it."

I inched my chair towards her and leaned against the desk.

McNamara slowly moved towards me, wrapping her bony arms around me. Tears dribbled down her blazer and her canary yellow nails dug into my skin.

"First Heather drinks drain cleaner, then Veronica goes haywire, and now Kurt and Ram commit double suicide?"

I rubbed her back.

"What's happening to Westerburg, JD?" Heather sobbed. "It's like we pissed off something - or someone!"

Taking a few seconds to breath, I bit my lip. "Maybe these weren't suicides. You know, like the news said. Like, uh, double murder or whatever?" I suggested.

McNamara seemed like she wanted to agree, but her stiff form softened and she continued to cry. "That's ridiculous, JD. What happened, then? No one at Westerburg would be stupid or brave enough to even do anything to them! Or each other!"

I nodded softly. "Never mind - You're right."

As her tears began to soak my plaid shirt, I winced. This new 'empathy' thing was tiring. Veronica was an easier figure to comfort - she'd cry for a couple minutes, wipe her face, and then demand a cuddling session over some movie. The brunette would stare intensely at the movie, debate theories about the plot line before switching to murmuring quotations from poets of English and French origins to me...A typical scene from a cheesy romance.

Meanwhile, Heather preferred to blabber on and on about her feelings.

As McNamara continued to do just that, I spaced out and thought about the coming days. The trip to Indiana would have to be delayed for a day or two - there was Kurt and Ram's funeral to attend and Heather to comfort over her boyfriend's death.

Would Nicholas be disappointed? Hopefully not. Knowing him, he'd just brush it off and change the conversation's topic. A trait I had grown to hate and admire over the years.

I sighed. She was still crying. As I searched for something to my mind to say to help her feel better, I blurted, "I understand how it feels, Heather. I've lost someone too."

"Who?" she asked, sniffling.

I looked away from her. "My mother. She, ah, didn't like pop's line of work, so she blew out of there...Literally."

"How old were you?"

"Around fourteen..." I stated slowly and quietly. As I bit my lip, I continued. "...It was hell, without her. She'd play shit like Itchycoo Park and Twist and Shout in the car every time we moved. Now my dad doesn't turn on music or anything and we just sit in silence. For hours - sometimes up to a day."

A frown graced my face. "When she died, the music died. Like that one song - American Pie."

"Well, yeah, but at least she didn't turn out to be a murderer or something," McNamara pointed out.

I glanced down at the floor and fumbled with my cigarette carton in my pocket. "At least you didn't lose someone major. High school boyfriends come and go - mothers don't."

Our conversation seemed to end there as Mrs. Lockwood halted the discussion - until I saw Heather McNamara after school again. As I dragged myself on the walk home, McNamara excused herself from her group of friends.

The yellow trademark blazer was, once again, stained with tears. She clutched her purse and gazed haphazardly around the street, slowly inching to my side. "Sorry I didn't wait for you this time. I don't know. Didn't feel like walking home with you."

"It's a natural part of grief," I replied, faking an empathetic frown for her. "You don't enjoy doing things you did before."

She sighed and shook her head, slowly bringing her gaze to meet mine. "I guess you're right."

Tension faded from the air as I plucked a Marlboro from the pack and held it out towards her. She murmured what else do I have to lose, snatched it, and waited for me to light it.

"Would you have guessed that Kurt and Ram could do something like that, JD?"

I shrugged and lighted her cigarette. "Kinda. They were really fucking aggressive, you know."

"Oh, god," McNamara replied, wiping away her tear stains with her sleeve. "I had no idea. Sure, they beat you up, but I didn't think they were capable of suicide! That's like, extreme!"

I cringed at her sentences. Everyone believed Veronica, apparently.

As we walked down towards our neighborhood together, McNamara sniveled up her face and coughed. "How can you handle these things? They're terrible!"

"With practice, it isn't so bad," I assured her. "Have you smoked before?"

The blonde shook her head and put out the cigarette. "No, I haven't. Heather thought it was gross so I never even tried...But thanks for the cigarette, I guess. It kinda helped."

She sniffled. "Wanna make some chocolate chip cookies? I found a really good recipe in my grandmother's old cook books."

Even though this was all technically Veronica's fault, I felt partly responsible for the whole thing. What else could I do except...

I nodded, throwing my bag over my shoulder. "Sounds great, Heather. We can watch 'Ghostbusters' after that, if you want."

McNamara grabbed my hand and smiled. "Yeah...I'd like that."

o000o

Ram Sweeney and Kurt Kelly were found dead on May 28th, 1989 in the backwoods. Apparently, it had been murder. But, not at the hands of a coldblooded killer, no...

They had gotten into a fight and 'Kelly was stabbed in his lower back, while Sweeney was shot in the neck and head'. Kurt had stolen his father's gun and Ram had used his knife. They had killed each other.

I was told this a couple days later - thanks to Veronica.

How? Well, she crept into my room, parted the curtains a bit, walked over to me and uttered...

"Jesus Christ, all you is sleep these days! Wake up!"

I opened my eyes a bit and stared blankly at her. "Good morning to you too."

"Today's the funeral," Veronica grumbled, crawling onto the bed next to me. "And we'll be late if you don't get up. Throw a frown on and fake some tears, JD."

I sighed and bit my lip, glancing off into the side. I didn't like Kurt or Ram. Everyone knew that at this point - why would anyone expect me to be there for them? "Is this really that much of an important event, Veronica? Don't think anyone would notice if we happened to be absent."

She shook her head. "Heather Duke and Heather McNamara would notice. They're always on my back."

"Uh-huh," I murmured, rubbing my neck. "All right, fine. Give me a second."

I hopped off the bed and stumbled towards my dresser, trying to mask the fact that I had barely gotten a wink of sleep the night previous. Veronica remained on my bed, her legs crossed and her eyes watching, like a hawk, around the bedroom.

Today was going to be a long day.

Thanks for reading!

Today's chapter was pretty subtle in the plot, but I'm sure that JD and McNamara's relationship will be pretty important in this fanfic...I wonder why...

Also, next week's chapter will be much longer. It'll cover Ram and Kurt's funeral among other things.

Response to Reviews

DisneyDreamer123: As you read, it didn't exactly turn out like the musical and movie did. Remember, this Veronica is different from canon JD...

Jasmemem: Ah, thank you so much! C:

Miller Memestar: So am I. I wonder what Veronica's plan is...

Megan: Will do!

Have a good night/day!