Chapter Text
Heather woke up already hating the day to come. She looked in the mirror, placing her hands on her chest, down the curve of her stomach to her hips. She glared at her reflection.
God we’re fat. Chandler thinks just because in headspace she looks alright it means we can eat junk all the time. I’ll add it to the journal. She leaned over the toilet and fixed the problem as best she could. But she knew her progress was set back too far for it to matter what she did in the moment. Or ever really.
“It’s not like she’ll listen to me.” She went back to her room and sat in front of the vanity, there was a drawer inside it that held makeup in one half and a small yellow notebook in the other held shut with three scrunches. Red, yellow, green and blue.
Heather blinked. No, that was 4. Her eyes narrowed as she flipped open the notebook past the colored pencil cursive reds and bubbly sharpie yellows until she reached someone who wrote with the soft gray of a pencil. Blah blah blah “new year new life” blah blah blah “Oooo why is everyone in school so mean wah wah.” Ugh, this bitch wrote like she was born yesterday… Considering she was new to the system she might as well have been. She skipped a few pages until she found what looked like Macnamera’s handwriting and- found out that the new girl had been teaching herself how to copy people’s handwriting style for fun. Dumb and a creep. Great.
A loud banging on her bedroom door interrupted her thoughts, “HEATHER! Your father is off for work, get down here NOW.”
Tell him David is bringing us
They didn’t have time to call David and 10 minutes before school wasn’t the time to piss off their dad.
And David sucks
David was cool, he thought they were hot which was what really mattered.
He doesn’t think it, he knows it. Because we are.
Duke pinched at her hip feeling that inch of fat, sure. Whatever. She tied back her hair, took her bag and went downstairs. Her mother glanced at her before turning back to the dishes.
“A green sort of day huh? You know I was reading this magazine about color theory`-”
“Red makes me look hotter, yellow makes me look happier and green makes me look like a puke stain. I know.”
Her mother shook her head, “I wouldn’t say it that way. But with your features it’s really not-”
Heather scoffed and rolled her eyes, “Is dad waiting outside?”
Her mother nodded, “Do you need money for lunch? Your father doesn’t want you asking him anymore,” She laughs, “Says you’re too old to be a mooch. But you have a solid decade left to take from me.”
God isn’t mom the best?
She hates me.
No she doesn’t, she’s just trying to look out for us. You know how hard it is for her, she doesn’t even have that big of an allowance it’s like… She probably won’t even be able to buy makeup this month.
Are you seriously planning on giving up money for the sake of your pride? That’s cold. Hard. Cash. I don’t care if it was given to you by Al Capone-
“Thanks mom, you’re the best.” Heather took the 20 dollars and shoved it into her bag.
A loud beep sounded outside, her mom kissed her on the forehead and cupped her face in her hands, “Have a great day sweetheart, keep your head down and stay safe.” Heather Duke stared at her face for a moment. Her makeup was always perfect, always on trend yet appropriate to her middle age, her hair pulled back into a perfect brown bun, the only thing that broke her magazine perfect image was her eyes. Large and blue; distant and painfully empty. She hated how much they resembled each other.
There was a second loud beep followed by the sound of cursing. Heather broke away from her and left.
The world felt… Strange. Uncanny. Like she could knock over one of the Mcmansions that surrounded her with the wrong touch. She glanced at her hands and they didn’t look like hers, strange, pale things that were the wrong shape for what she was… What was she? She found herself in the backseat of her father’s car, pinching at her skin. He was talking to her, and she was responding but what about wasn’t fully connecting.
Her mind clicked enough to know that water would help once she got into the school and she made a quick b-line for the restroom. She focused on listening to the steady flow of water, the cold stream against her hand. That was real, she was real. She tugged at her ponytail slightly to reconfirm it. There was a flush behind her. Gross. She turned to leave when in the corner of her eye, she saw her.
The only people who wore pigtails were sluts and people who wanted to feel eternally 12 and considering the rest of her there was no chance she was getting any kind of action. Honestly you’re kind of begging to be bullied if you wear a fucking unicorn sweater at age 17. Congrats, I think those two sentences put together might be the worst things I’ve ever heard in my life. God the front was crowded today what the fuck-
And now they were at a desk, a bell just rung. Fuck, how much time did they lose? She glanced at the calender on- Mr. Bernardo, he’s pretty cool Why the fuck would she care about that? Okay, same day, just a few hours later. It was so loud inside-She took out her pens and a notebook.
Okay, what the fuck was that?
You guys were going to be dicks so I stepped in.
Who are you?
I’m
Fuck she didn’t have a name yet.
< Oh you’re funny new girl. Well then, right now you have the body’s name, Heather.
Just Heather?
Well technically the body’s full name is Heather Duke Mchandler. There were only three of us so we split the middle and last name but
Her pencil slammed on her desk and they picked up the red one.
God, shut up. She wasn’t asking for our entire life story Heather
Sorry Heather.
I don’t think I’m a Heather.
What else would you be?
The pen stopped in her hand… Who was she?
We don’t have time for your existential crisis “not Heather.” I don’t know why you’re here, but I’m going to tell you something really important. We don’t need you. I’ve worked my ass off to get us to the point where we are now. If you don’t rock the boat and let me do what I need to, we can all be best friends and remain functioning. If you decide to play kiddie games though…
I will end you.