“Heather?” the soft sound of Heather Mac’s voice startled Heather, and she nearly crashed into a wall.
“Fuck me!” she cried, indigently. “What do you want, Heather?”
“You know you can’t talk to me like that anymore. I’m not okay with it,” Mac said calmly.
“How very,” Heather sneered. “Did you come to rub it in that you and Veronica were all chummy, or did you actually want something?”
“Yeah. Veronica, Martha, Betty and I are hanging out tonight, and I wanted to know if you wanted to come.”
“Hang out with the nerd brigade? No thanks, I’d rather swallow liquid drain cleaner.”
“Suit yourself. I just thought it would be better than hanging out by yourself.” Heather Mac began to walk away. Heather hesitated but joined her.
It would only be a one night thing, but Martha, Betty, Veronica and Heather Mac were genuinely better friends than Chandler, rest in peace, bitch, ever was. There are no pointed comments about her weight. Veronica even raises an eyebrow and shoves the chips bag towards her.
Betty and Heather Mac are the first to go to sleep, a few hours after the vodka is produced. Heather thinks there might be something connected to that, but her eyes are slowly closing. Martha is asleep, but Veronica is awake and watching Heather.
“Hey,” she says. “You have a good night?”
“Yeah,” Heather says, focussing on her words so they don’t meld together. “Thanks for inviting me.”
“You’re welcome. Look, Heather, you may have been the mythic bitch of high school, but I know there’s good in you. All you have to do is fight for it.”
When Heather woke up the next morning, they were all still there. And that was what mattered