A/N: Somehow I only managed to get one chapter for this rewrite written up on my week off. Time really is a dwindling thing when you get older. Treasure the moments you have while they're still present people. I know I miss a lot of things that I took for granted over the past few years...

I'd love to say that this new chapter offers a positive note. Really, it doesn't. Because angst, drama and tension never were good friends with positivity and happy endings. Plus this IS a story about high school students. Gotta lace in that extra misery, stress and high-hormone drama. What is a good high school AU without the petty problems of society's developing youth?

Anyway, I'm gonna cut myself off here. Hope you're all doing well behind the screen my loves.

Till next time,

Drama

Uncertainty

Heather's P.O.V

Something is wrong. Something is REALLY wrong.

Right now I should be bored, sitting in Lindsay's living room and entertaining her two party-crashing sisters and the idiots I perpetually seem to attract as friends. Nail-file in hand, I would roll my eyes as Lindsay blathers on about some long-winded tale, nail polishes and equipment in hand as she buffs out my nails and massages my feet. Tapping on her phone, Courtney would be talking about Duncan, some plans she has for a date or a joint event between her debate club buddies and her casual friends. Everyone else would be spread about the room, either painting nails, applying facials or flicking through the countless channels on Lindsay's gigantic TV, trying to find the right thing to watch.

Tonight, though, I'm not bored. No, how could I be bored when I couldn't even sit still, my mind racing with way too many thoughts as Lindsay brushes out my hair, talking to her sister about a new technique she's read about in Teen Queen Magazine. Currently, it's only us and Sadie - the latter helping herself to some blueberry muffins that Paula swears are a miracle for weight loss. Which is complete bull.

Honestly, I can't be bothered to correct Lindsay's idiot sister, Paula. Instead I'm on my phone, swiping through feed after feed of clips and reels of Anne-Maria's impromptu party. Too many familiar faces are there, cheering as teams play beer pong and others set up a game of ring of fire. Geoff has popped up quite a few times too, grinning as he mans the music or jokes about with Bridgette, placing his hat on her head.

Really, the puzzle isn't that hard to crack. With all the posts and the absences and agitation, I know all too well what is wrong. People are straying. Some people are plotting. And they all thought that they could get rid of me.

Plotting behind my back is a crime that many have tried and failed to get away with. There's a reason why Chris had me signed on as the upcoming Queen Bee for Wawanakwa's new generation of students. There's a reason why the past Queen Bees had seen potential in me, training and grooming me into the perfect successor to all of their legacies. My experiences make me well-equipped for the job. Everything about me makes me perfect for the job.

Everyone else seems to underestimate that. Anne-Maria Jones and Courtney Fairbank appear to be part of those people, thinking that I couldn't catch on to when someone is straying from my influence. Trusting my little cousin, Hannah, was a mistake on the traitor's part. At least, I could see why they went to my cousin - that crafty weasel is a good connection - but she isn't too good at hiding her feelings toward me. At all.

Part of me knows to expect a move from Hannah, delivered by one of my dissenting followers. Now, sitting in Lindsay's living room, trying to keep it cool in front of Paula and Sadie, I'm thinking of all the ways I could carry out damage control. Something that is proving to be hard to think of with Courtney missing and Dakota slipping out my grasp. Perhaps I'll have to address that problem too, tighten the leash around her neck...

"I think Katie only used me," Sadie suddenly speaks out. Blinking, I turn to look at her, realising that Paula and Lindsay have swapped places. Now Paula is braiding my hair, doing something fancy to it I guess, while Lindsay is coaxing the truth out of Sadie.

"Why would you think that?" Stirring the pot, Lindsay frowns as she unties Sadie's hair from its pink bobbles. Pulling out some detangling spray, she continues, "I thought that you guys were like... BFFs?"

"We were," Sadie nods, holding her head high as Lindsay begins to brush out her hair. "But there were a few times where I questioned if that was true. Like, back in ninth grade, when she stole my date. Or that time in tenth where she got into the cheer squad and ditched me. All thanks to my ideas, by the way. If I never choreographed that routine, she would have never gotten selected for the final draft."

Silence overwhelms the room in that moment. Shocked, Lindsay is silent, lips pressed into a tight line as she brushes Sadie's hair way too much to be normal. Paula is also silent, focused keenly on her braiding. I'm quiet myself, half-elated from the success of my plan but also half-horrified at just how effective it has been in breaking up a life-long best-friendship. What have I just done? What power did I just use?

Katie and Sadie represent two constants. They represent the roles we play, the characters we maintain, within Wawanakwa. Now, though, they appear to be breaking from the roles that I was assigned to reduce them to. Sadie, in her words, is spelling it out to me that our safety in our roles is not guaranteed nor assured. People could change, things could change, and therefore my spot at the top could also change.

That isn't a good sign.

"Well, I think you should be less harsh on her," Surprising everyone else in the room, my words come out rushed and sharp as I fold my arms across my chest. Sniffing, I lift my chin into the air. "We all have petty arguments, but that doesn't mean you bash on your past friendship. Not everything, even if the intention was false, is a lie."

Once again, silence envelopes the room. For a moment only the low buzz of the TV fills the room, joined by the soft scraping of Lindsay's brush going through Sadie's hair.

"Yeah, Heather's right," Lindsay agrees, nodding as she hums slightly. Setting down her brush, she grabs an elastic band and a comb. "Not everything in a lie is fake. Katie must have meant some of the stuff she did for you."

"Maybe," Sadie agrees, her voice low and thoughtful. "But maybe not."

Yeah, maybe not. Like a lot of things in life, friendship isn't a certainty. Love, wealth and health are never certainties either. But, in all my years, I have always thought that the roles we play in Wawanakwa are. As Queen Bee, the successor to the heavy, golden crown, I have always believed that my title is a certainty. Now, though, I'm not too sure. Unknowingly, Sadie has just tipped the scales of my reality.

Courtney's P.O.V

Cancelling on Heather tonight is definitely a risky move on my part. Never before have I skipped out on Heather's more or less mandatory bonding sessions, especially when it involves a new scheme of hers. Cancelling is the equivalent of showing Heather that you don't care. Cancelling is a certified way to have her suspicions tacked right onto you. Tonight, though, I have decided to break my perfect streak because too much is going on within my head for me to put up a decent facade in front of her.

For once, everything has been going well. Today - unlike most days in this godforsaken town - has actually felt like something I have under control, something I could rely on to go as exactly planned. But then, out of nowhere, I just had to have been thrown a curve ball by fate. Duncan and his mother just had to offer me that stupid ride.

Awkward would only sum up a tiny millionth of that car ride. Even though Duncan's mother did smile at me, try to launch into a casual conversation about my plans for college, there had been a tension behind her expression, one that I could recognise well. Too well. Even now I can't say exactly how but I feel like she knows what has happened. Part of me feels like she could read it off me, sense it just from my presence alone.

Mothers always have an uncanny sixth sense for those sorts of things. Plus Duncan's behaviour didn't help, a solid wall of silence and grunts whenever his mother tried to get him to engage. Anyone with eyes can see that something has happened between us. Anyone with a brain could deduce that I've done something to Duncan.

So, even though I did smile and wave and thank Mrs Carter for the ride, I don't feel too well in reality. Even though I did tell my own mother that today went well and I'm excited for the following day, all of me can't help but dread it. Hannah; the USB with Heather's downfall; Justin; Duncan: they all link together, creating a nasty web of doubts and worries about what I'm currently doing, the people I've involved in my own battle.

Pre-Senior me would have never involved anyone else in her battles. Getting everything done by myself is a Courtney Fairbank trademark that has persisted ever since my Freshman year in Wawanakwa. Everyone knows that I'm reliable because I've always got everything done, regardless of the obstacles that come my way. Relying on others isn't normal for me. Depending on others is just as strange.

Yet, in my quest to take down Heather and derail her tyrannical rule, I'm forgetting what I stand for. More and more, I'm forgetting what it means to be Courtney Fairbank, class president and valedictorian of her grade ever since junior high.

Pulling out my phone, I decide to call someone who would probably help to set me straight. If this is really a bad idea, something that I shouldn't be doing, then she would say it plain and straight. Neutral, in the middle, I could always count on this person to deliver the most effective verdict on what I should do - even if she doesn't know that I use her as a means of advice and guidance.

"Hello?" Croaky and sleep-laced, Dakota's voice comes across as groggy as she answers my call. "Who is this?"

"Hey Dakota, it's Courtney," Trying to sound as normal as possible, I feel the familiar twitch of my 'professional smile' stretching across my lips. "Sorry to bother you but I wanted to suggest something to you. It's to do with..." Taking in a deep breath, biting back to the squirm in my gut, the blaring alarms in the my brain, I force out the rest of my words, "It's about dealing with Heather and finally knocking her down a peg or two."

Silence. Complete radio silence fills her end of the call as I anxiously gnaw at my lip, staring at the burnt sienna walls of my bedroom. Silence is never a good indicator when it comes to Dakota Milton, infamous for her constantly running gob and appetite for the spotlight. Part of why Heather has selected her for the Squad is because of how easily she can mold to social situations, effortlessly falling into the role of a local celebrity whenever we go to huge school community events.

So, to receive silence from Dakota is concerning. Really concerning.

"Are you... ok Courtney?" The first words she says to me are a question. One that definitely betrays her shock and probably revulsion at my suggestion. "Cause I really just thought that you said something about sabotaging Heather."

"I did," Confirming my words, the decision and plans that I have been putting into action over the past while, I nod. That's why I have broken up with Duncan. That's why I'm sacrificing a lot - too much if I really stop and think about it. Getting Heather knocked off her throne, deconstructing the rigid social hierarchy our school has, is something that I'm determined to do. Even if it does cost me everything.

"Well," Pausing once more, Dakota gives away her hesitation. Uncertainty. "That sure is an ambitious goal."

"It's possible," I defend, trying to push the idea once more. "Doesn't she deserve it? Think about all she has done to you - to everyone - Dakota? She's always dangling false hopes for us to follow. She's always using past mistakes against us. Don't you want to get back at Heather for all these years of constant torment?"

This time, Dakota lets out a sigh. Long, flowing and somewhat fatigued, she gives away her entire stance on my preposition, "I'm sorry, Courtney, but I just can't be a part of that. Like sure, I do want Heather to face justice for what she's done to me and so many others, but I don't want to do it in the same way she does. Neither should you," In a whisper, a tiny, timid thing, she adds, "We're better than that."

"Better than that?" Echoing her words, eyes wide as I try to withhold my frustration, I shake my head. "How can we be better than that Dakota? Look at today! Look at what we allowed to happen, right in front of us, because we were terrified to confront Heather. No-one will spontaneously gain the balls to face her head-on. So how can you defend her after all she's done?"

"I know that!" Dakota responds, just as passionate as me and just as outraged. "I know how nasty and mean Heather can be. But I also know that deep in that icy chest of hers, she also has a heart, Courtney. Growing up with Heather, seeing her before Wawanakwa, I can confidently say that she is human. Retaliating will only make her worse."

"Well," Sniffing, my gaze hardening along with my heart, I deliver my own verdict on the debate. My stance on what I'll do with Heather - even if Dakota believes that it's wrong. "It's your mistake to doubt me."

Hanging up, my frown only grows as I toss my phone onto my pillow. Dakota is no help. Lindsay wouldn't be much better. Both of them, wrapped so tightly around Heather's finger, used to seeing her as their old classmate - the girl that had been bullied in their junior high school - couldn't see the necessary evil that has to be done in order to get rid of her. None of them could see that Heather's rule as Queen Bee is overdue in being overthrown.

This means I am back to square one; I am back to doing things my own way.

Deciding that my usual allies would be of no use, I pick up my phone once more and dial a number that I thought I never would after Heather's warning. But now, filled with desperation, I have no-one else to turn to. My old friends are the only allies I have left.

Gwen's P.O.V

Waking up to my ringtone definitely isn't a pleasant experience. If there is one thing most people know about me then it's that I totally hate when I'm woken up by a phone call or my alarm (on school days). Interrupting precious sleep time is like a crime against me - one that most people learn very quickly to never commit again. Grumpy Gwen is definitely not a ball of sunshine to be around; grouchy Gwen is even more unpleasant.

Nevertheless, someone dares to call me on a Sunday morning of all days. Scratch that - at three in the fucking morning on a Sunday. What type of lunatic - Oh, Courtney. Of course.

Frowning at my phone, I disentangle myself from the heavy, warm weight of my best friend and pick up the tiny, glowing device that is my phone. Luckily for Courtney, she hasn't woken both of us up. If that had been the case then Duncan definitely would have let her know how big of a mistake that is. Just like me, Duncan hates being woken up by a stupid, annoying electronic device.

Part of me couldn't help but be confused by the sudden phone call, though. Late night phone calls aren't really a thing with Courtney, who has a very particular and solid bedtime that she maintains even over the weekend. Calling people at the most random hours of the night definitely isn't the norm for her. Something has to be up. Something major - especially if she's risking trouble with Heather and is calling me.

"Hey Gwen," As soon as I answer, the chipper tune of her preppy voice fills my ears, nearly startling me to death. "Sorry for calling so late!"

"Uh... it's fine," Blinking, I shake my head as I try to regather my thoughts. Once they're sorted, I trudge toward my kitchen, flicking on the hall light as I shuffle across it. "What's up though? You don't usually call me at... well, the fucking witching hour."

"Yeah, sorry about that again," Sighing, Courtney can't help but spike up my concern levels with her answer. There's something major going on with her - with her and Duncan and Heather, it seems. That combination definitely doesn't sit well in my gut. No, I've never liked it when Heather ends up getting jumbled into the lives of two of my oldest friends. "I just... I really need help with something important. It involves Heather."

"Heather, huh?" Yep. This entire situation definitely isn't meshing well with my gut. Grabbing a glass from the cupboard, I head to the sink and turn on the tap. "That sounds like a whole lot of trouble and there's a lot on my plate right now," Filling up my glass, I frown as I add, "Aren't there other people you can ask for help? Doesn't everyone and their cousin hate Heather?"

"Yeah, I know that," Another sigh. My mind can't help but picture Courtney as a completely stressed out mess on the other end of the line, wide awake at three am, trying to fix whatever mess she's placed herself within. "But no-one's exactly jumping to help me either. Trust me, the last thing I wanted to do was involve you in my mess, Gwen. I know you have a lot going on right now with Trent and everything."

Taking a pensive sip from my glass, I try to clear my head of the image. The guilt. Sure, Courtney used to be one of my best friends. Yes, Duncan used to date Courtney and through that link we have managed to strengthen our once severed friendship. But even with those ties, those strengthened bonds, I'm not exactly willing to place myself front and centre before Heather's wrath. Right now Heather isn't troubling me and I need the peace and quiet.

But... Courtney does help me out. Courtney, to an extent, is my friend. Leaving her high and dry would definitely break whatever code we have between us at the moment. But getting involved is also just as risky - especially as I don't exactly trust Courtney as far as I could throw her (which isn't very far).

"Sorry Court but I just can't. Not right now," Setting down my glass of water, I glare at my reflection in the kitchen window. Pale-faced, eyes surrounded by a circle of shadow, forehead creased with worry lines: I look like a mess that I shouldn't be right now. Not when this year is supposed to be one of my best. "But I do feel bad because you've helped me out a ton over the years. So I'll pass the favour on."

"Who to?" Is her immediate question, almost panicked. "You need to be careful who you tell Gwen."

"Of course, I'll be careful! What do you take me for, an idiot?" Scoffing, I roll my eyes as I drain the remainder of my glass. Leaving it on the counter - because I really couldn't be asked to wash up - I turn away and begin heading back to the living room. "Just trust me when I say I know someone who will help."

"Alright, I'll trust you," Eventually, almost reluctantly, I hear Courtney grit the words out. Definitely a big achievement for her. Relinquishing control always has been something she's found difficult to do - regardless of who she's trusting or handing control over to. That's partly why we had fallen out, disagreeing on something that simply led to us parting ways. "But only if you tell me who it is I'm working with."

Hm. Honestly, it isn't surprising to see that Courtney added a twist. Really, I shouldn't have been so annoyed by the condition. My hands should not have pinched at my brow and my teeth should not have bit my tongue as I fight the urge to snap at her. But they do. Annoyed, frustrated and definitely grouchy, my body betrays the emotions that my mouth really wants to communicate across the phone.

Instead, though, I simply say, "Anne-Maria. She'll probably help."

"Oh," That is the genius response. An oh.

"Yeah," Is my response, somewhat snarky and agitated as I linger in the hall, waiting for the chance to flick off the light, shuffle back to the living room and return to peaceful, restful slumber.

"Well thanks for that I guess," Significantly more chipper, Courtney speaks up once more, bringing the conversation toward its close. But, obviously, not without her signature laced in threat, "Oh, and Gwen, if you tell Heather and you'll pay."

'Yeah, whatever,' I think as she hangs up and I'm left with a silent, black-screened phone in my hand. Like I'm going to warn Heather about Courtney and whatever sinister plans she has waiting. Honestly, I've been waiting years for a moment like this one to happen. Heather's been overdue in a payment from karma - hopefully filled with social justice and a dash of intense second-hand embarrassment. Who would I be to stop such a divine, natural thing?

When I return to the living room, feeling the returning grogginess in my system and releasing its yawn, I find Duncan half-awake, checking his phone. No doubt he's heard a good chunk of the conversation - at least that's what I've gathered from the question sitting within his eyes.

Confirming my suspicions he asks, "Who's calling you at this hour?"

"Courtney. She's planning to get a hit on Heather," Picking up the TV remote, I turn the device on. Guess sleep is out of the question now - Duncan would keep me up for a good couple hours. "She wanted to know if I was in."

"And you said no?" Duncan frowns, communicating exactly how he feels about that decision. Any sane person would have jumped at the opportunity to get a decent hit on Heather Chang - especially with someone like Courtney on your side. Duncan would have definitely said yes without hesitation if she'd called his phone. Ever since we'd started high school, he's had a pretty decent hate streak on Heather and her agenda.

"What? It's not like I gave up the opportunity of a lifetime! If anything I was dodging a bullet," Shaking my head, I plonk down beside Duncan on the couch. Snatching a decent portion of the blanket, I wrap it around my shoulders as I flick through channels, "I know you're head over heels for her, but I don't trust Courtney, Dunk. She's clever and a lot of clever people tend to be deceitful little shits. She won't hesitate to throw me under the bus if things go south, especially since she thinks the entire crush incident was me."

"Well, you got two things wrong there, Pasty," Duncan scoffs, yanking the blanket back in his direction. Overwhelmed by the force he uses, I end up toppling into his side, my head bumping against his shoulder. "One is that I'm head over heels for that crazy chick. Two is that she hates your guts."

"She hates my guts, Duncan," Sighing, I settle on some news channel that's currently airing a live police chase via one of the helicopters. "What happened in middle school totally destroyed whatever friendship we had."

"So why are you still friends with her?" Duncan asks, prodding for the answer in the straightforward, blunt way he always does. Taking the remote from my hands, pausing the live chase, he demands my attention, "I mean, if you know it's pointless why bother?"

"Because she wasn't always like this," Frowning, I go to grab the remote. Effortlessly, Duncan holds it far away - just out of my reach. Damned bastard is going to be stubborn about this. "You know as well as I do that she used to be one of my closest friends. At least until you two became fucking friends."

On my first day at middle school, it had been Courtney out of everyone else in my class who approached me. Everyone else had gawked and stared at me, the weird pale girl with impossibly dark hair and mysteriously dark brown eyes. Before, I had gone to school with people that I knew. But since my mum wanted me to do well, had wanted me to have a better school, she'd pushed for me to attend one in the more uppity areas of town.

Enter my first day at Isla Bonney Prep. Nothing too special. Just another weird, public school kid somehow finding herself attending a more posh, proper middle school. That day had been a lot on me - everyone just watched and didn't bother to break the ice. Instead I was left by myself, watching as other kids played with each other and longing to return to where my friends were, most likely having fun together.

"Hi, my name's Courtney," Shiny. I remember her smile being impossibly shiny as Courtney walked up to me, holding out a hand. Pristine, her collared blouse was devoid of creases and matched with her pink checkered skirt. "I heard you're new around here and since I'm class representative I thought it'd be best if I introduced myself to you."

"Oh," Whenever I got nervous, I tended to blush back then. Arguably, even now, I still do that. "I'm Gwen."

"Well, it's lovely to meet you Gwen," Courtney had laughed at me, but in the friendly kind of way, as she shook my hand. "I'm sure we'll be great friends."

"Friends?" I'd echoed skeptically, unable to fathom what she was saying. At all. Instead I had to voice my own suspicions, frowning as I did, "So you mean no-one like... paid you to speak to me?"

"What? Of course not!" Courtney was now frowning, shaking her head as she placed her hands on her hips and sniffed. "I'll have you know that I take my responsibility as class rep very seriously. That means no classmate is left behind."

And when Courtney had said that, dragged me into her world by telling me about her noble goals as a class rep, I had truly believed her. That was how we'd became friends, trusted each other with everything and anything without the slightest bit of hesitation. At least, that's how it used to be between us. We'd had a good run until Heather just had to sink her hooks into Courtney, blurting out her crush and framing me in the process.

"Gwen," Duncan's voice brings me back to the present, his hands shaking my frame. In that moment I must have blanked out, transported myself back to the past, back to when Courtney hadn't been so consumed by vengeance and anger and pain. "Look, I'm sorry for fucking it up."

"You didn't fuck it up, Duncan," Shaking my head, blinking back the tears, I distance myself once more. Physically removing his hands from my arms, his safety net from my shattering heart, I try to hold myself together, "You didn't make Courtney the way she is. I should have tried harder to prove the truth and I should have... I should have warned her about Heather. None of us could have known about what she'd do."

"Yeah but- "

"Just leave it in the past, Dunk," Flashing him a tiny smile, I sniff. "It doesn't matter anymore."

But we both know better. Much better. What happened with Courtney isn't in the past, couldn't ever be left in the past, because it affects everything we do now. What happened with Courtney is exactly why I couldn't tell Duncan that I love him much more than he would ever know.