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Everyone has a hole they need filling, and soulmates always did the trick.
Ever since Heather had learned to speak, it had been drilled into her how important it was to find your soulmate. In storytimes in school, she’d be told the beauties of seeing one’s empty colour for the first time. In those stories, a peasant boy would gaze at a princess from afar, pining and hoping that one day, he could say a single word to her. It was never known why those pining feelings were oh so strong, but they were. Then in those stories, against all odds, the love of that peasant would overcome all his obstacles and save that princess from whatever evil she was vulnerable to. He would touch her, and she’d touch him back, and he’d see the pretty pink dress she wore for the first time.
For the first ten or so years of her life, that’s how Heather viewed soulmates. Coming along to save her from some unknown evil that she was too young to fully comprehend, and everything would suddenly be perfect. With her empty colour becoming full would also follow nothing but happiness. Happily ever after, just like in those stories.
Then she turned 11. She entered middle school, and suddenly that fantasy collapsed. She witnessed her classmate Courtney find out her soulmate was Keith in 7th grade, and for a full two months, they were all the school talked about, a relationship everyone wanted, if you will. Then Keith ended up cheating on Courtney a total of three times in two weeks, and as revenge, Courtney cheated too. About as much cheating as you can do as a middle schooler, but nevertheless, all happiness went down the drain and merged with filthy sewage water.
Despite all that, they stayed together. They had to. They were bound by fate.
Had they chosen to part, they would have ended up like Tracy and her ex, Ashley. They broke up on very bad terms, and as a result, haven’t spoken to one another since. When losing one another’s soulmates, it was like pulling out a small, yet vital piece of a huge structure. Rather than losing just one colour, and going back to how you once were, they became…
...Colourblind.
It was a rare phenomenon, or at least, it was said to be. It was too heartbreaking to tell to young children, most kids first hear the word around the same age they’re told Santa Claus isn’t real, and even then, they are rarely told the whole of it. As you get older, though, the thought of it happening is said to be dreadful. Spending your whole life wondering what you’re missing, then finding it, only to not only lose it again, but everything. You reject the colour fate gifted you? Well, fuck you, you don’t deserve any of them.
It was freshman year of high school that Heather Duke first met Heather Chandler. She was beautiful, intimidating, short-tempered, but also very clever. Not necessarily academically speaking, though. Heather soon realised that when one day, she was accosted by the girl with yellow hair.
“You. You’re the girl who aced Mr. Hall’s test, correct?”
Thickly swallowing, Heather Duke replied,
“Y-yes?”
“Well, guess what I got?”
“I… um…” Her heart had been racing. Somehow the girl’s icy blue glare burning into her skull had stolen away all her words. Before she could think of a satisfactory reply, a test paper was slammed down onto her desk, the harsh sting of the noise raking through Heather’s skull and making her cringe. On it was a huge, bold, grey “F”, underlined and circled.
“I’m not failing this class, and you’re going to make sure of that,” Heather Chandler had growled. “When are you next free?”
“Uh…” Completely flabbergasted at just how much introduction and small talk the girl had skipped, Heather struggled for an answer. “After school?”
That had been a lie. She was planning on going shopping with her mom later that afternoon, but there was something about this girl that Heather felt… drawn to. She was scary, she was assertive, she was really pretty. She was like a cute little dog that, when you picked them up to give them a hug, they snap and bite at you, but you forgive them immediately because they’re just so cute.
The dangerous snarl on Heather Chandler’s grey lips turned up into a content grin, like someone had flicked a switch. The ice in her stare melted into a calm ocean that Heather wanted to drown herself in, and now that her nose was no longer wrinkled in a sneer, she could see the very light freckles dotted along the bridge of her nose. They suited her a lot.
So, taking notes - when you make Heather Chandler happy, she suddenly becomes even more beautiful.
“Perfect. Meet me by the parking lot, uhh…”
“Oh! Um, Heather. I’m Heather Duke, nice to meet you.”
She held out her hand to shake it, somehow feeling excited by just the idea of the girl touching her for even a second, but Heather Chandler turned up at it with a pompous look. Apparently, she was too good to accept such a gesture from someone like her.
“‘Kay. See you later, nerd.”
Then she left, and Heather hadn’t seen her all day, until they met up outside the school, by the parking lot, just as Heather Chandler had said. Heather had been dragged to her house, which was fucking surreal. She lived in a huge, gorgeous and somehow incredibly empty mansion. She hadn’t bothered to introduce her to her parents, even though they had said hello and she’d said hi back. She was simply led to a study room, where Heather had been instructed to sit opposite the table, far from Heather, despite the fact that tutoring would have been made much easier had she been sat next to her, but Chandler had firmly refused the proposition.
Another note: Heather Chandler liked to keep her distance.
They continued like that for weeks, with their only interactions being in their English class and then on Wednesdays, after school.
Not once did Heather Duke ever touch Heather Chandler. Not until a dumb, stupid accident on Duke’s behalf.
“Hurry it up. I’ve been waiting here for like, ten minutes now,” Chandler called, sitting on the wall of the parking lot with an impatient expression. Duke nodded frantically, speeding up her walk.
“Sorry, I needed the bathroom, and then I realised I forgot something in my locker, and I didn’t have time to organise my stuff so I just had to hurry out,” she quickly explained as Chandler jumped down from the wall. Duke clung tightly to her mess of paper and textbooks being hugged against her chest.
“You look like a mess. Your shoelace is untied.” Chandler eyed her feet that quickly moved, carrying her closer to the girl.
“It is? I didn’t realise-”
Duke had been cut off by her own clumsiness. She’d tripped over her own feet, sending not only her sheets of paper flying, but also her own weight right into Chandler.
“What the hell! Watch it!” was the last thing Chandler had snapped before the two of them had yelped in pain, squeezing their eyes shut as a sharp, terrible ache hit them both in the head. Duke forgot about her scattered papers, instead focused on rubbing her temples to try and soothe whatever the hell was drilling into her brain. It wasn’t even her temples that hurt, it more felt like someone had hit the back of her head with a hammer. A hammer with spikes stuck to it.
The pain only lasted maybe three or four seconds, though, before fading entirely. Duke wondered if it had even happened at all. She got her answer, though, when she slowly blinked open her eyes and was met with…
Red.
All she could do is stare at the sight before her. Not only was Heather Chandler wearing a bright red cardigan, red lips and a red scrunchie in her hair, but her hair had also changed shade. No longer blonde, but now more strawberry blonde.
Holy shit.
A mere few seconds after making the realisation, Chandler had opened her eyes and stopped rubbing the back of her head and looked at the girl on top of her. Her eyes widened, darting up and down Duke, fear struck in her gaze for a split second.
“Your eyes are green,” she murmured, before the shock faded and was replaced with anger. “Get off me!”
Before Duke could move herself, Chandler pushed her backwards and stood up, brushing stones and dirt off her clothes with a look of disgust on her face. Duke stared up at her, confused. Even when soulmates ended on bad terms, it was always the most exciting thing to happen when it first began. Therefore, Heather should be overjoyed, now, right?
While she was looking around the area, particularly at grass and leaves and moss, stunned by her empty colour finally being filled, she wasn’t looking at Duke. Meanwhile, Duke couldn’t stop staring at her.
She looked so nice in red.
She wished she’d touched her sooner.
“Tutoring is cancelled today.”
She’d seen her red lips move, but had hardly heard her. When she finally processed what she said, she could hardly hide her disappointment.
“What?”
“I have other stuff to do,” is all Chandler said, before marching off without sparing a second glance. Duke stared after her, feeling lost and confused. When Heather was out of sight, Duke could only look around to try and find other things that were red, or at least orange.
The school was tinted orange? That was something.
But without Heather, she had very little to look at.
She spent the rest of the week hunting for red coloured things. She found roses were red, as the poem suggested, that blood was red, which she found after nicking her finger with a knife when chopping up vegetables, that some of her belongings were red. So, not much, basically. She found her thoughts constantly drifting to Chandler, though, wondering if she was happy to finally be able to see green. She wondered what it was like, not seeing a colour that was basically everywhere. She must have lived in a grey world, so why wasn’t she happy to finally have that hole filled? Duke hardly had anything new to see, but she was still ecstatic.
The following Monday came, and Chandler walked up to her in school, outside of their English class.
“You’re my soulmate,” she began in a disgruntled tone. “Looks like we’re bound together, huh?”
Duke nodded slowly, unsure how she should be reacting. Secretly, she wanted to gush about how happy she was to finally see red, to know who it was that fate had gifted her. But Chandler still didn’t look pleased, so she kept her mouth shut.
“If we’re going to be together, you can’t be looking like that. ” She eyed her loose green and black clothing, consisting of a black t-shirt and green cardigan and a black skirt. Admittedly nothing flashy or fashionable compared to Chandler, so she gave a nod, accepting her invitation to a makeover. It was later that day, at the mall, did she meet Chandler’s friend, Heather McNamara. Apparently they’d been close for a long time, and McNamara had been the first to hear about Chandler’s soulmate discovery.
“Just excuse Heather, you get used to her bad temper,” McNamara said as she handed Duke a choice of green blazers. “She is actually happy to find her soulmate, I promise! She just prefers to keep her excitement to herself.”
By how casually she spoke, Duke assumed that how unenthusiastic Heather had reacted to her colour being filled was completely normal. Clearly she’d just been overthinking everything.
“That makes sense,” Duke said. “I wish we’d found out in a better way.”
“Well, that would have been ideal, sure, but not to worry!” McNamara patted her on the shoulder and smiled. “Fate gifts us with many things, and even if we don’t understand some of them, we should always be grateful, right? There’s always a reason!”
Her words reassured Duke, and she smiled back. Then, they were interrupted by Chandler walking back over to them, grabbing Duke by the arm as well as the clothes McNamara had picked out and pulling her into a changing room. A little intimate, she must admit, but surely she wasn’t going to stay and watch her get changed.
“Okay, try these on,” Chandler instructed, handing her the blazers. Duke nodded wordlessly and slipped her cardigan off. When she did so, Chandler let out a thoughtful hum, but said no more, so Duke went through all three.
“That one will do,” Chandler said when she put on the last cardigan. She stepped forward and fixed her collar, and after weeks of keeping so much distance between them, Chandler finally having her hands on her made Duke’s heart flutter. She wanted to hold them, but she knew better. “I’m more of a fan of tighter clothes, but I don’t think they’d work for you currently.”
“What do you mean?”
Chandler eyed her up and down, her expression remaining neutral.
“Tighter clothes work better on skinny girls. No offense.”
Duke’s fluttering heart was short down from the air, and yet despite the arrow piercing through it, its wings still flapped as she gazed into Chandler’s thoughtful stare.
“Oh,” Duke grunted. “Sorry.”
“No matter. I made it work.”
Indeed she did, and she continued to do so. Heather Duke went from a nobody to one of the most well known and most feared girls of the school the older she got, all thanks to Chandler’s ruthless bidding. The trio became known as the Heathers, and while Chandler made no effort to announce the fate-bound connection between her and Duke, that too was well known. It wasn’t a far-fetched speculation, either. As the years went on, Chandler became more openly affectionate with Duke. She never held her hand in public like so many other soulmates did, but she held her in other places, like around her waist, her shoulder, sometimes her arm, if she was lucky.
Duke knew not to overstep her boundaries, and that included returning all of those sweet gestures to Chandler. She’d learned that the hard way, like in junior year when she’d come up to her and wrapped her arms around her neck in an attempt to pull her in for a kiss, right in the middle of the cafeteria. Rather than lips pressed against her own, however, Chandler had pushed her off and pulled her to a secluded area at the back of the school, glowering at her.
“What was that?” she spat. Duke flinched.
“I was just… trying to kiss you?” She stared at the floor. “You do it to me all the time at parties.”
“Exactly. I do it to you. I don’t appreciate you acting as if being soulmates is something you can flaunt in front of everyone.”
“But isn’t that what you do?” Duke challenged, only to immediately regret it when Chandler took a dangerous step towards her.
“I do what I want with fate, Heather. If you haven’t noticed, I control this whole school. I control these students. Where you are now? You got here because of me.” She took another step. Duke pressed herself against the wall behind her. “Not even fate can get its flimsy little strings on me, and I don’t want anyone thinking that it has. You got it?” Another step. “I’m not on the same level as every other mindless student in this school. Everyone is so excited to meet their soulmate, and if they find them, they want to boast about how their fate is sealed, how a hole has been filled. I’m not so naive. Fate doesn’t own me. I own fate.”
Chandler was now caging Duke with her arms, and Duke could only cower as she gazed up at her helplessly. Her pulse was quickening from both fear and desire for the girl inches away from her, especially when she leaned in.
“The only thing I can’t change is who they gave me,” she murmured against her lips, breath brushing over them. “But, now, is that such a bad thing?”
Duke wondered if she should be upset that Chandler had indirectly called her naive, had admitted she thought of herself on a different level to her, but hearing her whisper that and feeling the very kiss she had been looking for before eagerly dismissed the thought. She allowed Heather to do as she pleased, pressing herself up against her with a knee between her legs and hands firmly gripping her hips. Duke’s hands remained flat against the bricks, knowing that any attempt to pull her closer would inevitably chase her away. She let Heather kiss her, touch her, mark her, because she was right. She was stronger than fate itself, and thus she could do what she pleased.
Sure, it made Duke feel powerless in turn, like she was just as blind as everyone else in the school when it came to the excitement over some silly little colours, but how could she possibly care when the colour that she could see was just so beautiful?
Having absorbed her words, Duke set herself on catering to Chandler’s wants and needs. If she wanted her to do her dirty work, she would. If she wanted her to please a guy she couldn’t be bothered with, she would. If she wanted her to be quiet, she would. She’d do it all for Heather, because Heather is what fate had gifted her, and who was she to feel ungrateful?
Admittedly, sometimes Duke felt as though Chandler didn’t feel the same way about her. Sometimes she’d pick out a pretty dress for her, only to put it back because it didn’t fit, or sometimes she’d take over ridicule towards other students because Heather wasn’t doing a good enough job. Every time, she’d go home tearful, look in the mirror and long to be looking at someone worthy of being Heather’s soulmate. As junior year came to an end, she began to take matters into her own hands, shaping herself to match fate, controlling how many calories she consumed and how many she lost, following Heather’s orders and never requesting anything for herself. It worked. It made Heather happy, and in return Duke was rewarded with affection she was never given in the public eye.
“It’s a shame you have to go through such drastic measures to get this beautiful,” Chandler murmured, running her hands up and down Duke’s sides. They’d gotten far less wide as of late, which was good news for Duke since the heat this summer was particularly high, and she could finally allow herself to wear revealing clothes. She sighed as Chandler planted soft kisses down the side of her neck, not caring about how slowly she was moving. She simply enjoyed the attention, the affection she was rewarded, and being straddled in the privacy of Heather’s dimly lit bedroom was more than worth the trouble she put herself through.
“It’s no big deal,” Duke said dismissively, her hands gripping the sheets. She could only silently request for Heather to do more by tilting her head up and exposing more skin, anything else would be far too needy.
Chandler cupped her chin and made their eyes lock. “You know I don’t like seeing you in pain, don’t you?”
“Of course I know that.”
Chandler smiled down at her. “Good.” She let go of her chin and began to crawl further down. “Now, shut your mouth, my parents are downstairs.”
All Duke could do is silently nod, not letting a single sound slip past her lips, or she knew Heather would stop. Especially nothing ridiculous, like ‘I love you’. If anyone was going to drop that first, it would be Chandler, not her. She wasn’t the stupid, naive girl Chandler once knew, and she was determined to show her that. She knew better than to initiate such a thing.
On September 1st, senior year began. The Heathers were more powerful than ever, and everyone knew it.
Everyone, including Veronica Sawyer.
“This is an excellent forgery,” Chandler had been the first one to speak to her in that bathroom, stepping towards her confidently and snatching the hall pass right out of her hand. “Who are you?”
“Veronica. Sawyer,” she stuttered, holding out a hand. Had Duke not been busy recovering from the vomit she had lured out of her mouth moments before, she would have laughed, easily predicting Chandler turning her head up at the pitiful greeting. “I crave a boon,” Veronica continued, her hand slowly fell.
“What boon?” Chandler sneered.
“Um… let me sit at your table. Just once, no talking necessary. If people think you guys can tolerate me, they’ll leave me alone-”
She was cut off with Chandler cackling, to which Duke and McNamara mimicked right away. In response, a look of determination appeared on Veronica’s face.
“Before you answer, I also do report cards, permission slips and absence notes.”
An idea popped into Duke’s head, and she stepped forward. “How about prescriptions?”
“Shut up, Heather.” Chandler pushed her back in line, and she hung her head.
“Sorry, Heather.”
That earned an odd look from Veronica, who eyed the two of them suspiciously. Duke could only glare back at her, as if to tell her to mind her own fucking business.
“For a greasy little nobody,” Chandler spoke again, stepping towards Veronica and lifting up her chin. Duke couldn’t deny the slight twinge of jealousy she felt when she did so - she hadn’t gone anywhere near her for the first few weeks when they’d met, but now she was willing to touch this… nobody, as Heather described? “You do have good bone structure.”
“And a symmetrical face!” McNamara chipped, hurrying towards Veronica. “If I took a meat cleaver down the centre of your skull, I’d have matching halves. That’s very important.”
Duke scoffed at their comments. “Of course, you could stand to lose a few pounds.”
She was shot with another look from Veronica, this time offended. Good.
“You know, we could make this beautiful,” Chandler hummed thoughtfully, eyeing her up and down. “Though, first things first, your fashion sense needs a lot of attention.” She laughed at the clashing colours on her scarf, her long patterned dress and denim jacket. “I mean really, what are you, colourblind? ”
McNamara gasped. “Heather! Don’t you think that’s a little harsh?”
“No, it’s okay,” Veronica said. “She’s right.”
The trio all stared at her, with Chandler and McNamara taking a step back in shock.
“You’re actually colourblind?” Chandler spat with disgust.
“Yeah. No use in hiding it, right?” Veronica shrugged nonchalantly. Duke stared at her with bewilderment - how could she be so casual about that? Even dare mentioning it to the three most powerful girls at the school. “I’m not surprised my fashion sense is no good. Do as you will with it.”
Chandler looked at her with uncertainty. “Okay… well… if you’re going to be hanging out with us, you’re not even going to hint that there’s something wrong with you, got it?”
Veronica deadpanned at her. “There’s nothing wrong with me.”
“Maybe from your point of view, but you and I both know it’s, how do you say… limited?” Chandler sneered as she stalked past her. “Meet us by the parking lot after school. Heather, Heather-” she snapped her fingers, and in an instant, both Duke and McNamara were at her side, “-let’s go. We’ll sort… this out later.” She gestured to the whole of Veronica, who sneaked an eye roll when Chandler looked away. Duke didn’t take her eyes off of her, hoping to put her in her place. Even if she were to be one of them, she wouldn’t be on their level any time soon.
After school, the Heathers met up with Veronica, where they took her to the mall. It took Duke back to when she’d been properly accepted into the friendship group, only now she could take satisfaction in being on the other end.
“Do you want me to help pick out clothes for her, Heather?” Duke asked.
“No. Stay with her to make sure she doesn’t go anywhere,” Chandler instructed.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Veronica tried to protest, but Chandler didn’t listen. She instead walked off with McNamara, and while Duke could only longingly stare after her and wish she was standing with her, she knew to respect her wishes. An uncomfortable silence fell on the two of them, with Veronica rocking back and forth as she gazed in the mirror in front of her. Duke eyed her up and down judgmentally, and it seems Veronica saw her reflection do the same.
“Something the matter?” Veronica questioned, locking eyes with Duke’s reflection. Duke raised a brow at her.
“Surely even with no colour, you can see how bad that outfit is?”
“What’s so bad about it?”
“Well…” Duke came to stand in front of her, looking up at her with disdain. “Let’s start with this fucking rag.”
She grabbed her scarf and slipped it off her neck. Veronica gazed at her cooly, but still bemused.
“I still get to keep that, right? My friend knitted me that.”
“Well then, she needs to do a better job.” She shoved the scarf back into Veronica’s hands. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she was colourblind too.”
“Whether she is or isn’t is none of your business,” Veronica grunted. “Now, anything else you want to critique?”
Duke snorted. “Where to start?” She pinched her dress and lifted it up slightly. No, it didn’t reveal any skin. It was far too fucking long. “I don’t even know where to begin with this.”
“You’re so sweet, you know that?” Veronica cooed sarcastically.
“I don’t aim to be sweet.”
“I see Heather Chandler has quite the influence on you, then.”
Duke snarled at her. “That’s my soulmate you’re talking about.”
Veronica scoffed. “I think that’s why I feel bad for you.”
Duke felt her blood begin to boil. “I’d watch your fucking mouth, if I were you,” she hissed, stepping towards her as threateningly as she could. “I don’t appreciate you standing there and insulting her, and I don’t think you will either if I were to let that fact slip to her.”
Veronica frowned at her, but said nothing more. Satisfied, Duke stepped away from her and spent the rest of the wait in silence, and when Heather and Heather finally returned from their clothes hunt, she felt relieved. Out of nothing but pity for Veronica, she didn’t expose her to Chandler for insulting her, instead happily stood by Chandler’s side as she sent McNamara and Veronica off into a changing room.
“Is there really any hope for her?” Duke commented slyly when they were out of earshot. Chandler didn’t look at her.
“Are you doubting me?”
Duke shrank a little. “No, I’m not.”
“Good.” Chandler looked down at her dangerously. “If I could give you a glow-up, I can give her one just as easily. Like I’m gonna let a few of her grandmother’s rags get in the way of that. I’m better than that.” Duke ignored the pang of hurt by her words when she felt her chin being lifted up. “I mean, just look at you now. You’re beautiful.”
Feeling her face warm up, Duke smiled and nodded, saying no more as her chin was dropped and Veronica and McNamara returned. They agreed on the look of a blue blazer with a grey skirt, and from there, Veronica became part of the group. She wasn’t necessarily their friend, more like their coworker with a low wage, yet an essential job. She could tell Veronica wasn’t necessarily happy with that position either, often feeling guilty whenever she forged a note for the next poor soul they chose to be a victim of their next prank, or trying to argue with Chandler when it came to cancelling her plans with her friends, only to inevitably lose.
Heather Duke didn’t like Veronica.
She was an ungrateful bitch.
“I don’t get why you keep giving her second chances,” Duke whined as they drove to Veronica’s house. “She’s so disrespectful-”
“Shut up, Heather!” Chandler commanded, and Duke fell silent. “She may be a handful, but she’s still useful, and she’s more than I can handle.” She shot her a glare. “You know I can handle her, don’t you?”
Duke nodded. “Of course I do.”
Chandler smiled. “Thought so.” She pulled just outside Veronica’s house and planted a kiss on Duke’s cheek, making her grin stupidly. “It’s a shame she was so fucking stubborn about that note, I’ll admit, but so long as she doesn’t mess this party up, it should all be okay.”
She honked her horn until the front door opened, and Veronica stepped out. Duke had to confess that they did a great job with rearranging her wardrobe - she did in fact, look good in the tight black dress and grey shoulderless shirt they had bought her. And hey, when it was grey and black, she wasn’t exactly missing much herself.
“Thank you for waking up my cat,” Veronica commented as she stepped into the car, sitting next to McNamara in the back seat.
“What’s your cat’s name?” McNamara asked.
“JFK.”
“That’s stupid,” Chandler muttered, before starting up her car again and driving off to Ram’s house.
“Yeah, what kind of name is that?” Duke laughed.
“Shut up, Heather.”
“Sorry, Heather."
Duke glanced in the rear-view mirror, and again, she saw Veronica shoot them both a look. This time, it was a look of concern.
Duke desperately wanted to snap at her to mind her own business.
They arrived at the party and were met with all eyes turning towards them. Many requests to join games of Spin the Bottle, Never Have I Ever, 7 Minutes in Heaven, and so on, and so on, were thrown at them immediately, to which they all declined through Chandler simply walking past them.
They settled on some stools by the kitchen counter, a good view of the party in front of them. Kurt came up to the four of them and handed them all Jell-O shots. Luckily for Duke, she’d controlled her calorie intake enough today to swallow a few tonight, even if it had meant eating hardly anything all day. They took amusement in instructing Veronica on the correct way to take a shot, to which she didn’t seem to care too much.
“You’re doing it wrong, ” Chandler groaned in frustration, but Veronica just laughed.
“Really? ‘Cause I feel great. ”
Duke rolled her eyes at her naivety, before Chandler grabbed her arm and dragged her away from the kitchen counter and instead towards the dancefloor, where for a few blissful minutes, she held her close around the waist and even let her receive a few kisses down her neck, before inevitably letting her go to soak up the boy’s attention. She didn’t like her letting other people touch her in ways that not even she could, but she knew it was all just a game, one that Chandler always intended to win. She couldn’t fault her in that.
“Is that normal?”
Duke whipped her head around to see Veronica shoving through some other teens to make her way over to her, brow furrowed with concern. Ugh, not this again.
“Is what normal?”
“That.” She nodded to Chandler, who was busy grinding on several guys at once. “Does she always leave you like that?”
Duke frowned at her. “Why does it matter?”
“I thought she was your soulmate.”
“She is.”
Veronica opened her mouth to retort, but then, unexpectedly, she closed her mouth.
“Do you wanna go get a drink?” she asked instead. Duke blinked, surprised.
“I’m sorry?”
“You don’t have to,” Veronica said. “But… if you wanna get away from the noise for a bit.”
Duke actually considered the proposition, and with one look at Chandler, who was far too occupied for Duke to even think of interrupting her to ask her permission, she shrugged, assuming it would be fine, and nodded.
“Yeah, whatever.”
Veronica offered a smile, leading Duke out of the crowd and over to a table full of alcohol bottles stolen from the liquor cabinet. Veronica poured herself straight vodka and mixed it in with lemonade, while Duke just grabbed a bottle of beer. They both found a more quiet corner of the party, which while shadowed by the balcony above them, was refreshing after so much noise being blasted in Duke’s eardrums.
“So, you enjoying your first party?” Duke asked, swirling her beer around in the bottle.
“More than I thought I would, thanks.”
An awkward silence fell on them both, before Duke found herself looking at Veronica up and down. Despite the first comment she’d ever made towards her, she did not in fact, need to lose any weight, unlike her. She was slim, and while not exactly curvy, was definitely pretty, especially after her makeover. She suited blue a lot, Duke noticed, it had become her signature colour. No matter Duke’s jealousy towards her, she couldn’t deny that Veronica, ungratefulness aside, was actually very appealing. Which got her thinking.
“How did you become colourblind?”
Veronica snapped her head towards her, looking taken aback. Duke knew it was an incredibly personal question, and had she had no alcohol in her system, she likely wouldn’t have dropped it on her. But she was curious.
“Excuse me?”
“I was just wondering,” Duke said with a shrug, taking a sip of her beer. “If you don’t mind.”
Veronica gazed at her for a long moment, eyes flickering back forth as they debated answering her. Then, to Duke’s surprise, she shuffled along the couch so she could lower her voice, but still let Duke hear her.
“I met my soulmate in sophomore year,” she began. “His name was JD - we dated for a while.” She stared at her cup, expression blank as she watched the bubbled float to the top. Duke started to feel bad for asking at all, but Veronica continued. “At first it was fine. We were happy together, we shared a lot in common. Horror novels, black comedy, a disdain for assholes in the school.” She huffed sadly. “I was naive. I thought everything was perfect and that nothing could change us. Fate had gifted me with a wonderful boyfriend as a soulmate, the empty hole I’d always had was filled. What more could I possibly want, right?”
Duke leaned a little closer. “What happened?”
Veronica bit her lip. “I… I won’t go into details, but he started to get very pushy and controlling.” She stared off into the crowd, looking incredibly focused as she did so. “He believed that just because we were bound by fate, I couldn’t live my own life. I had to live our lives and our lives only. I wasn’t free, I started to live in fear, and I started to cry out to fate, wondering why it was making me suffer.” Duke had no idea how she sounded so calm. It was eerie. “At first I thought that it would get better, that it was all part of the plan… but I got tired of waiting for things to get better. So, so tired.” She sipped her drink. “I cut him out my life, and all the colours I could see went with it.”
“Oh.” Duke shifted uncomfortably. “Do you ever regret it?”
“Never.” Veronica smiled at her. “I lost my colours as well as my fashion sense, but I gained my freedom. I haven’t been that scared since, and I’m not constantly plagued with a need to find some sort of hole to complete me. I don’t need anyone to complete me - all I need is myself.”
Her perspective was interesting, but far too jarring for Heather to really compliment. The mere idea of willingly rejecting your soulmate and your colours was a concept far too extreme for her, and Duke couldn’t tell if Veronica was brave or stupid for doing so.
“What’s it like being colourblind?” she asked. “What can you see on me?”
Veronica chuckled, gazing at her up and down. It was so different to how Chandler did it - it was gentle, and she looked as though she appreciated every bit of her. “You have black hair, your clothes are very light, and your eyes are…” She squinted, leaning closer to her until their faces were inches apart. “I can’t tell what colour your eyes are.”
“They’re green,” Duke said. “I have maybe a sixth Caucasion genes in me, so that’s where they came from.”
“Ah, I see.” Veronica smiled sweetly. Duke was confused; she didn’t like Veronica, and yet she really liked the way she looked at her.
She wasn’t used to it.
“Green was Heather’s colour,” Duke said. She saw Veronica’s smile drop slightly, but only for the briefest of moments before it came back again.
“Was it?” she said. “How did you two meet?”
A little confused as to why Veronica was suddenly interested in a relationship she’d shown nothing for distaste for until now, Duke hesitated replying.
“She… she needed me to tutor her,” she explained. “Then one day I tripped and fell into her, and suddenly, we saw colour.” She tucked some hair behind her ear. “She didn’t appreciate the clumsy reveal very much.”
Veronica tilted her head. “She was still excited to finally find you though, right?”
Duke opened her mouth to reply a ‘yes’, only to realise that it would have been a lie. She sat with her jaw hanging open as she struggled for an answer, and the longer it took her, the more Veronica’s smile dropped. Feeling a discomforted churning in her gut, she turned to her to argue, only to be interrupted.
“There you are.” Chandler’s voice caught both of their attention. She stalked towards Duke, though her eyes were glued to Veronica, full of suspicion. Veronica just looked away, and Duke was surprised to feel disappointment when Chandler pulled her up onto her feet and away from Veronica. “Come on, Kurt and Ram will be bringing out the piñata soon.” She shot one last look to Veronica, before dragging Duke away. Duke glanced behind her and saw Veronica followed, but kept a safe distance from the two of them.
Whatever. If she didn’t like Chandler, she would just have to deal with it.
The Heathers (and Veronica) got a good view of the balcony, right in front of the crowd. The music was turned down slightly by Ram, who remained on the ground floor, while up on the balcony stood Kurt, leaning over the railing of the balcony. For a little bit of time, Duke felt comfort in how she was pulled close to Chandler, her arm around her waist and caressing her side almost protectively, though when Ram stood up on the kitchen counter and began to speak, she let go, to her chagrin.
“Alright people, listen up! What’s Westerburg gonna do to the Razorbacks on Sunday’s game?”
He looked up to the balcony, and every gaze in the room followed and saw Kurt holding up a pink pig piñata and laughing.
“Gonna make ‘em go wheee! Wheee! Wheee! ” Kurt squealed like a pig as he thrusted into the behind of the pig, and while everyone laughed, including Chandler, Duke could only roll her eyes.
“Way to show maturity,” she quipped, a little louder than she intended, as Ram clearly heard her. He looked down at her and grinned impishly, before hopping down onto the floor and making his way over to her.
“Where’s the fun in being mature?” he said, before reaching out his arms towards her. Duke tried to escape, but Ram caught her from behind, and to her disgust, she could feel him dry-humping her. When she looked to Heather and Heather for help, she was only met with McNamara grimacing helplessly, while Chandler burst out laughing. Veronica was nowhere to be seen. A pit of dread formed in the bottom of her stomach.
“Quit it, jackass, get off of me!” she barked, trying to wriggle out of his grip, but to no avail. There was no point in trying to escape just a strong grip when she was gifted with no physical strength at all.
“Yo, Ram, emergency!”
Veronica’s voice caught her attention, and to her relief, the dry-humping stopped, though she was still in his grip.
“I saw some freshmen jumping over the pool fence,” Veronica said, standing just behind Ram, who finally let Heather go so he could turn to Veronica with rage.
“I hate freshmen,” he growled. “Where are you little pricks? I’m coming for you!” He marched off out of sight, leaving Heather to stumble forward. She looked at Chandler again, but found she was too busy laughing to look back at her. She would have kept staring at her sadly, had Veronica not tapped her on the shoulder.
“Hey, are you okay?”
Duke snapped her head around to her, a mixture of emotions swirling around her head. She picked a random one to use for Veronica.
“I didn’t need your help,” she snapped. Veronica frowned at her, before looking over to the very person Heather had been staring at pleadingly.
“Some soulmate you got there,” Veronica muttered, before walking away. Duke watched her go, slightly remorseful for rejecting her comfort, but she told herself it was for the best.
“Does she always have to ruin the fun?” Chandler spoke up, suddenly standing next to Duke. “Honestly, she’s so serious. ”
Duke let her pull her closer, ignoring how her skin began to crawl when she felt long red nails graze over the fabric of her dress. She simply let Heather nudge her head onto her chest, where she rested for comfort. It wasn’t often Heather would let her do such a thing at all, nevermind in public, so Duke let all her worries leave her and allowed for Heather to run her fingers through her hair. Because unlike a certain someone, she was grateful for what fate gave her, and for what she was able to fill that hole she had in her heart.
Or at least, she was pretty sure she had a hole in her heart. Everyone had one, no matter what Veronica believed.
But as time went on, telling herself that became so much harder for Duke, and it was all Veronica’s fucking fault.
“You can’t hang out with both of us,” Chandler argued, leering at Veronica dangerously. “It’s either or. That’s how things work.”
“Says who?” Veronica retorted. Any anxiety Veronica may have shown when they first met had disappeared at this point, and now she was stupidly brave to the point where standing up to Chandler was a common occurrence. “If I wanna hang out with Martha, I can. If you’re not okay with that, then you can say goodbye to all those plans to ditch school with no repercussions.”
Chandler seemed to consider what she said, and reluctantly, she stood down. It was a rare sighting, or at least, it used to be. Lately, Veronica had become a lot better at getting her way, and Duke found it fascinating. Not only did Veronica reject fate itself, she rejected all man-made social constructs. She’d even stated that she couldn’t care less if someone referred to her as ‘he’ - it was all the same to him. Those social constructs also included the rules that Chandler had lay down for the rest of the school to follow, and it was infuriating.
And Duke felt so, so bad for not being just as angry. In reality, she found her behaviour strange and unique, and she wasn’t entirely sure why she was so drawn to it. Then, one day, she got her chance to figure it out.
“Do you want to study together at some point?” Veronica had asked her after catching her alone. Duke raised a brow.
“Why? You’re intelligent, and so am I.”
“Exactly. We can raise our grades higher than ever.”
Duke considered it for a moment, before nodding. They agreed to meet up over the weekend, at Veronica’s house. They brought out their History notes, and surprisingly, they sat in a fairly comfortable silence.
“Do you want one?” Veronica had broken the silence to hold out a strawberry twizzler to her. Though Duke’s stomach rumbled at the mere sight of food, she pushed it away.
“No thanks.”
“Not a fan?”
“They’re okay, I’m just not hungry.”
Veronica frowned. “You haven’t eaten that much today.”
Duke shrugged wordlessly, and that was when Veronica closed her textbook and pushed her notes further down the bed.
“This is personal, so don’t feel obliged to answer, but… when did you become bulimic?”
Heather lifted her head up in surprise. She felt like she should have been offended by the incredibly invasive question, but by how Veronica looked at her so earnestly, she somehow wasn’t. The way she was so genuine had softened the blow.
“Earlier this year,” she replied. “Near the end of junior year.”
Veronica bit the inside of her cheek as she shuffled a little closer.
“How did it start?”
Duke stared at her textbook, but she took in none of the words.
“Heather?”
Biting her lip, she answered,
“Sometimes I wouldn’t fit the dresses Heather picked out for me,” she murmured. “And… it feels a lot better to have control over my diet.”
She dared to look back at Veronica, expecting a look of mockery and disgust; she hadn’t even explicitly told Heather why she did the things she did, because she knew she would get laughed at. She never wanted to disappoint her, after all.
Instead, though, she was met with a caring, meaningful gaze. It made Duke uncomfortable - she had no idea how to react.
“I’m not going to tell you what to do with your life,” Veronica said, “but I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” She tucked a stray strand of black hair behind her ear. “Who cares if you can’t fit in a few dresses? There are plenty of dresses I can’t fit in that I would love to wear.”
Duke scoffed in disbelief. “Sawyer, have you seen yourself? You’re skinny as hell.”
Veronica smiled. “I know. I mean plus-size dresses. So many of them are pretty, but they’re just too big for me to wear.”
Unsure how to take in that information, Heather’s gaze just dropped down to her book again. But not to continue studying.
“I want to be someone Heather wants,” she murmured. “I’m her soulmate. I want to be good enough for her.”
“Aren’t you already good enough for her?”
“I… make sure that I am, yes.”
Veronica’s brow knitted. “Heather, no one should have to make sure they’re good enough for someone.”
Catching Heather off guard, Veronica’s fingers linked with her own. A place that no one had ever touched - not even Heather. She knew she should have pulled away; Heather only liked people being affectionate with her when she was around to watch, but the sensation of soft, warm hands stroking her own was too good to release.
“You know I don’t like Heather. I know you probably resent me for that, because she’s your soulmate and all, but…”
Duke looked up, and saw that at some point, Veronica had shuffled even closer, until their shoulders brushed. Heather kept telling herself to pull away, that doing so would stop her heart from racing, but she stayed put.
“But?” she murmured.
“I only don’t like her because she doesn’t treat you right,” Veronica whispered, her mouth close enough to have her breath brush over Heather’s face. “You deserve a lot more than you think.”
Words got stuck in Heather’s throat. She tried to say, you don’t know her like I do, she’s not so bad, she’s just got her own way of showing affection, but nothing came out. How could they, when blue lips were closing in as they both edged closer and closer to one another, until there was no more distance to travel.
Kissing Veronica was a feeling Heather had never experienced before. Veronica was gentle, she didn’t impose, she went at a pace Heather was comfortable with. Her lips were soft and they didn’t desperately invade, they didn’t seem hungry or desperate to steal her words, even if they had been taken away from her anyway. There was no attempt to overpower her, no attempt to win… it was just a kiss.
She felt Veronica’s hand cup the side of Heather’s face, and after a while of repeating the same motions, Veronica tilted her head and deepened the kiss. Not to the point where it turned messy, like so many of Chandler’s kissing sessions did, just enough to keep Heather entertained. And she was very entertained.
A few long minutes had passed when Veronica parted, and though Heather tried to chase after her lips like a helpless puppy, Veronica made her pause by taking hold of her hands that lay flat on the bed sheets, lifting them to her waist and pressing them there. Immediately anxiety jolted through Heather’s body, and it seems Veronica noticed her shoulders tense when she ran her hands up and down her shoulders and neck.
“Everything okay?”
“I don’t... “ Heather stammered, staring at her own hands, touching someone else. Actually touching someone, in an intimate way. “Is this…”
“Yes.”
That was all that needed to be said, before their lips collided again. This time it was more confident, with the kiss starting out deep and their motions quicker than before. Heather sighed as fingers stroked her scalp soothingly, tangling themselves in black hair, that is until those hands left to land on her own very still ones. At first she thought she’d done something wrong, and that Veronica was going to pull her off, but to her surprise, she pressed her hands harder against her sides, asking for pressure. Heather, albeit nervously, complied, and slowly ran her hands up and down her hip and thighs, and in return, hands continued to run over her. They never slipped in more explicit places or even hinted at the need to do so - they simply held her, and held her close.
It was disturbing.
Heather broke the kiss, shuffling back in a state of shock. Veronica gave a concerned look, reaching out to her.
“Are you alright?”
“I…” Unable to organise her thoughts, Heather frantically began to gather up her books, not caring that her worksheets were getting crumpled as she shoved them all together in a messy pile. “I have a soulmate, and it’s not you.”
Heather leaped off the bed, while Veronica scoffed.
“Who cares?”
“I do.”
“ Why? Because we’re told from a young age that we all have a hole that we need someone to fill? Face it, Heather, none of it is true.”
Heather shouldn’t have let herself stand by the doorway to listen, but she did, against her better judgement.
“You don’t have a hole that needs filling, Heather, and Heather certainly isn’t the person who’s doing that.” Her gaze darkened. “All she’s done is convinced you that she is, it’s all to keep you close. You’ll mold yourself around her all to fill a hole that she made up, and that mold will never be good enough, because she’ll always change her shape and size all so you’ll keep trying and trying to live up to her standards.” Her eyes became glassy. “It’s all fake, Heather. Sure, fate gave you Heather, but fate gave me JD. Fate isn’t a perfectly laid out path. It’s a random, blindfolded throw that’ll sometimes land in a ditch full of venomous snakes.”
Heather was frozen by the door, every word cutting into her like a blade.
“You’re wrong,” she murmured. “Fate gave me Heather. She’s mine, and who am I to give her up because of pseudo-free-thinking?” She tore her gaze away from Veronica, as much as it pained her to do so. “You can’t change fate, Veronica. You can convince yourself you can, but look where that got you? You’re fucking colourblind. ”
Before Veronica could respond, Heather slammed the door and made her escape. She dived into her car and definitely broke the speed limit on her way home, but she didn’t care. When she made it home, she hurried upstairs and jumped onto her bed, burying her face into her pillows as tears began to flow from her eyes.
The worst part was that she wasn’t upset that she’d cheated on Heather.
She was upset that she wanted to do it again.
“You’re quiet,” Chandler had said the following Monday, coming up from behind her and running her palms across her shoulders. It was meant to be soothing, but it was nothing compared to those consoling, welcoming hands that had been on her the previous Saturday. Duke stared at their reflections in the mirror, praying that she didn’t grow too tense under her touch.
“Was I meant to be talking?” she asked apologetically.
“Not necessarily,” Chandler murmured, leaning in to plant rough kisses and nips behind her ear. She watched her do it in the mirror, hands snaking around her to grope possessively and a dark chuckle ringing in her ear. She swallowed thickly. “How did your study session with Veronica go?”
Duke’s breathing hitched. “Wh-what?”
Chandler grinned at her deviously in the mirror. “Heather told me,” she said nonchalantly. “You didn’t tell me you were friends now.”
“Uh- um, we’re not.”
“You don’t sound very sure.” She stepped around her to face her directly, resting her hip against the bathroom counter with folded arms. “I’ll ask again, how did it go?”
For a split second, Heather considered using this moment to her advantage. She could lie, say Veronica was trying to turn her against her, something to make Chandler mad at her enough to kick her out. It would have been perfect.
Say it, she thought, opening her mouth. Just get rid of her, and you can leave all of this behind.
“It went fine. She’s such a nerd though,” she nervously laughed. “Not only is she colourblind, but she needs a monocle to read.”
A satisfactory grin spread on Chandler’s face, and she laughed along with her. “She might as well be completely blind. I mean, really, what’s the point in seeing anything if it’s blurry and discoloured?”
“Yeah,” Duke huffed in agreement. “What’s the point?”
Chandler then leaned forward to plant a kiss on her lips, and Duke desperately tried to indulge in it as much as she usually did.
But now she knew it could be better, more genuine, it suddenly felt far less rewarding.
As the week continued, Heather and Veronica inevitably crossed paths. They sat opposite each other at lunch, and Heather was forced to face her, as much as she didn’t want to. All she could think when she looked at her was not only how she had touched her, but how she had listened to her. She’d let her speak about the most stupid things, and not once made her feel like they were stupid, to the point where now questions were racing through her brain whenever she felt Chandler’s leg brush against her own.
Was she ever stupid or naive?
Or was she just stupid and naive to her?
They were uncomfortable questions she didn’t want answers to, because the answer of ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to both of them was too painful. There was no escape, and so she dismissed them every time.
Or at least, she tried. It would be easier if Veronica didn’t pull the same shit she always did.
“You should let Heather go first.”
Chandler whipped her head around to Veronica, gripping her croquet mallet fiercely.
“What?”
“You always go first,” Veronica said, a little timidly. “Why not give Heather a head start?”
She glanced at Duke for the briefest of moments, likely only to clarify which Heather she was talking about.
“Because I always go first,” Chandler sneered at her. “She’s fine with going third.”
“Have you ever asked her?”
Chandler glared at her, astounded at how she’d dare to argue. Stepping closer to her, she snarled,
“How about you take the shot for her?” Her lip curled up into a smirk, while Veronica frowned.
“I…”
“Go on,” Chandler challenged, stepping back and gesturing for Heather and Heather to do the same. McNamara seemed to do so quite excitedly, eager to see the outcome. Duke, however, could only pity Veronica as she stepped in front of the line of croquet balls in front of her, trying to figure out which one was Duke’s. She was able to rule out McNamara’s - yellow was lighter than red and green. And while Duke wasn’t entirely sure how similar the two complimentary colours appeared in black and white, clearly it was similar enough for her to stare at the two of them for a long time.
Then she finally made her choice.
She hit the red ball.
Cackling smugly, Chandler stepped forward.
“Thanks for the head start,” she said with a taunting grin. Veronica could only stare darkly at her as she stalked past her.
“Whatever, it’s just a dumb game,” she muttered. If Chandler heard her, she made no effort to show it, instead focusing on the game as it continued. The whole time, Duke remained quiet, making little effort to get ahead of the game, unconvinced that she’d win.
Then when she finally spoke up, she asked Chandler yet another stupid question, and got the response,
“Did you have a brain tumour for breakfast?”
Wincing, Duke helplessly watched as Chandler hit her red ball into her green, driving it completely off course. Muttering a curse, Duke walked over it defeatedly, taking in the huge distance she had to cover.
“That’s a tricky hit, Heather,” McNamara commented, clearly doubting she’d be able to make up for the progress lost.
“You can do it,” Veronica encouraged - the first time she’d spoken since the beginning of the game. Duke didn’t believe her, but in locking eyes with her for what may have been the first time that day, she suddenly was filled with determination. Taking a deep breath, she swung her mallet forward and hit the ball hard enough that it went flying, first bouncing off a tree, then off a statue, and finally rolling through her goal. A strange sense of satisfaction flooded through her when she saw the disappointed look on Chandler’s face, while both Veronica and McNamara cheered her on.
“That was incredible,” Veronica commented with a friendly smile, and a dreaded fluttering sensation erupted in her chest. She didn’t respond, and instead took the victory.
“This game was rigged,” Chandler grunted.
“How was it rigged? I gave you a head start, didn’t I?” Veronica quipped from across the garden. Chandler shot her a warning glare, but there was very little she could do other than continue to play. Only, she couldn’t make up for Duke one-upping her, because Veronica’s mother came outside and announced that McNamara’s parents had arrived to pick them up. The trio all hurried inside, but as Duke trailed behind, her shoulder grazed past Veronica, who whispered to her,
“Even if you play by her rules, you can still win.”
Duke didn’t reply.
But it was becoming very hard not to.
It became so difficult, in fact, when Chandler would slip her tongue in her mouth at parties to flaunt her power over her in front of everyone. When she focused more on how still she forced her hands to be when Heather touched her rather than focusing on how good it was supposed to feel. When she was supposed to happily listen to Heather complain and scheme and ridicule, while knowing her input mattered so little.
While making herself throw up again, and again, and again, constantly wondering, for what?
Heather told me she doesn’t like to see me in pain, she thought as she stared at the now-clear toilet water in front of her. Then… why does she let me suffer?
For the first time in her life, Heather asked herself the question: Why? Why did Heather never listen, never care, never hold her hand? Why was she never excited to find her, why did she never let her touch her in the same way she was touched, why… why… why…
Why have you never told me you loved me? Tears began to well up in her eyes. I’ve been waiting for you to say it for so long, but… you’ve never said it.
“Heather?”
And that was another thing. Why did she care so little, when Veronica cared so much?
Why does everything feel so right about Veronica, when it’s supposed to be so, so wrong?
She threw some gum into her mouth and stepped out of the stall.
“What do you want?”
Veronica hesitantly walked towards her, but she kept a safe distance between them. Rightfully so, because this was the first time in weeks that they had been alone together. Despite that, the conflicting feelings Duke had felt for her hadn’t faded. If anything, they’d been festering at the back of her mind, and she lacked the right tools to maintain them properly.
“I was just checking you were okay. I figured you were… you know.” She nodded to the stall. Duke just wiped her mouth consciously.
“Whatever.”
A silence fell on the two of them, before one of them spoke up. This time, it was Duke. Something that simply didn’t happen with Chandler.
“Veronica?”
“Yes?”
“What’s it like to be colourblind? In general, I mean.”
Veronica gazed at her calmly. No hint of surprise or curiosity. It was almost like she’d expected her to ask.
“It wasn’t fun at first,” she said. “Not only do you lose the colour you spent your whole life hunting down, you lose everything. You can’t even use your imagination to colour anything in - along with your vision, you lose your memory of colour.”
Heather widened her eyes. She didn’t know about that last part.
“So… you don’t know what green looks like?”
“Not anymore, no. I’ve lost the ability to picture it.” Veronica smiled bittersweetly at her. “For a short time, it felt like my whole life was over. Everything had been taken from me. I started considering running right back to JD - not because I missed him, but because I missed the colours. ” She traced her fingertips over the marble counter. She would never see that it was a light ocean blue. “But then that emptiness faded. I realised that colour wasn’t all there is to living. You can see depth, you can see darkness, you can see light. You can hear, you can touch, you can taste, you can smell. There’s so much to appreciate, but we never do, because we all focus on one insignificant thing.”
Duke tilted her head thoughtfully. “Do you ever miss seeing colour?”
“Yes. Of course I do,” Veronica said. “I have moments where I wish my soulmate wasn’t a dick. I have other moments where I wish I was strong enough to handle him in my life. But I push those away, because more than anything, I would rather lose my ability to see colour than to lose my happiness.” She slowly turned towards Duke. “Why do you ask?”
Duke bit the inside of her cheek.
“No reason.”
She was sure Veronica saw through the lie. Heather absolutely did.
Veronica’s description of colourblindness swirled around in her head for days and days. It was still scary to her, and the thought of it happening was enough to cause her heart to clench in fear, but more than anything, an odd sense of relief flooded through her. Knowing that it wasn’t the end of the world, knowing that there was more to the world than just colour, made her feel at ease.
So much at ease at the thought of losing her colours, in fact, that like black contrasted to white, she compared it to how at ease she felt with Heather.
She wanted to feel at ease with Heather.
She wanted to swallow her feelings and keep living the life she’d become accustomed to.
She didn’t want to be ungrateful for where fate had led her.
But she could no longer ignore her feelings, because Veronica had been right all along.
Finally allowing those questions she’d been pushing to the back of her head flood forward, she let out what felt like years of built up tears. She sat in her bedroom and cried to her heart’s content, the yearning and wanting and needing for Heather’s approval and affection surfacing in her head. It no longer felt like a motivation to keep her on Heather’s good side, but instead brought her pain and aching like she’d never felt. While she couldn’t bring herself to let go of the feelings, she couldn’t deny, through Veronica’s words, that she was hurt.
Heather had hurt her, and that’s all that mattered. Not fate, not colours, not Heather Chandler. Just her, and the pain that had been inflicted on her throughout the years.
Finally she answered those two questions that had been buzzing in her head like insects for weeks.
Was she stupid and naive? Or was she stupid and naive to Heather?
To her, the answer was yes to both.
But she never said it out loud. Not until maybe another week passed, when Veronica agitated Chandler for the last time.
“No, Heather!” Veronica had argued. “I’ve told you before, and I’ll tell you again. Messing with my friends is where I draw the line!”
Chandler stared her down, fire in her gaze. “I’ve had it with you, Sawyer,” she snarled. “I should have listened to Heather when she said I was giving you too many chances all those months ago. You’re nothing but an inconvenience.” She grabbed her blazer and forcibly ripped it right off of her, despite Veronica’s protests. “If you think I’m going to play goody-two-shoes for you, you couldn’t be more mistaken. Fuck you and your forgery - we survived three years without your help, we can continue like we always have.”
Veronica leered at her venomously. “You’re right about one thing, Heather.”
“And what’s that?”
“You should have listened to Heather.”
With that, Veronica shoved her aside with her hip, marching down the hallway, stripped of her blazer and all of her power, and yet not caring at all. She shot Duke one last apologetic glance as she walked past, before turning away and walking out of sight. As soon as she was out of earshot, Chandler cackled.
“Fucking imbecile. She forgot those little embarrassing photos in her blazer.” She rummaged through the blue pockets and pulled out the bunch of photos of Martha Dunnstock. “She can act as high and mighty as she wants when she sees these plastered all over the school.”
Both Chandler and McNamara laughed in victory, while Duke unconsciously found herself shuffling away from Chandler’s side, her heart aching for Veronica.
“Don’t.”
Everything fell silent, and it was then that Duke realised what had slipped out of her mouth.
“What?”
Swallowing dryly, Duke forced herself to look up at Chandler.
“Don’t do that,” she begged. “Please.”
Chandler’s face twisted up in disgust, striking fear into Duke, who stepped away.
“And why not? She’s not one of us anymore.” She eyed her suspiciously. “I thought you said you two were never friends. Were you lying?”
Duke stared at the floor and shook her head.
“Then why-”
She grabbed her chin and forced her to look into her icy glare, freezing her in place.
“-Are you defending her?”
Duke trembled under her touch, and again and again in her head she told herself, it shouldn’t be like this, you shouldn’t be scared of her, all to block out the urge to blurt out numerous apologies on the tip of her tongue and the urge to melt under the deadly claws that were her fingertips.
“I-I just think that-”
“I didn’t fucking as for your opinion, Heather.” She released her chin, but still towered over her. “You should know better. If I want to hear anything from you, I’d ask, wouldn’t I? ”
She cringed as her voice became lower, more dangerous. But still, somehow, she held her ground.
“Fuck you.”
Her eyes were squeezed shut, but she could hear Chandler taking a step back in awe.
“ What? ”
“Fuck you,” she said louder, blinking an eye to look up at her. “Fuck you, Heather.”
She was met with the most infuriated, and yet most confused look she had ever seen on Chandler’s face, that is, before she could see it in her eyes that she was putting the puzzle pieces together. Enragement filled her glare, and it made Duke want to crumble from fear.
“I knew she was up to something…” she hissed. “But I trusted you to not fall for her little mind games.”
“They weren’t mind games,” Duke snarled. “They were hard truths you never wanted me to hear.” She forced herself to hold her gaze, no matter how much her whole body shook. “Because if I did, I wouldn’t be wrapped around your finger like the toy that I am to you. Fuck you, Heather. Fuck you, and get the fuck out of my life! ”
As those last words fell from her tongue, a sudden intense pain slammed into the back of Duke’s head, and as she shut her eyes and yelled in agony, she heard Chandler let out a similar noise. If the pain of gaining colour was bad, then whatever the hell this was was straight up torture. It lasted longer, maybe a whole minute, she couldn’t be sure, of nothing but what felt like a dagger sinking into the back of her brain and tearing a chunk of it out. Tears escaped her eyes as she desperately tried to caress her head in hopes that it would fade, and eventually, it did, leaving a faint echo of what it was. A simple headache that she could very easily handle after… that?
Wiping her tears away, Duke slowly blinked open her eyes.
She was met with grey.
Greys, greys and more greys. Everything was grey, different shades of grey.
She was… she was…
“No…” She hadn’t even thought to look at Chandler, but it seemed she was having the same realisation as her, with how she was frantically looking around the hallways, looking at McNamara, looking at her , with an emotion she had never seen painted on her face.
Fear.
“I can’t see,” she whimpered. “I can’t see colour. This can’t be happening…” Her eyes landed on Duke and stayed, suddenly wide and desperate. She stumbled towards her, her blue eyes no longer blue, though Duke could clearly see they were glassy. Chandler gripped onto her shoulders and began to plead,
“Heather, please, I’m sorry.” Her voice quivered as she spoke. “I’ll be better, I’ll change, I promise. Just, please, fix this, I can’t be colourblind, you can’t be colourblind, please, I’ll do anything. ”
Duke couldn’t deny that part of her wanted to hold her, wanted to reassure her that it was okay, and that she could let everything go and let everything go back to how it was. They’d see colour again, and everything would be fine.
Except it wouldn’t be, because no matter how much Duke’s heart ached right now, she knew it couldn’t compare to how she felt when she was with her. So she listened to the other, hopefully wiser half of her instinct, and ran. As she did, she made one final note about Heather Chandler.
She was scared of fate.
She ran, and she kept running, she didn’t stop, not until she found the only face she could properly recognise in the sea of greys, whites and blacks.
“Veronica!”
What she once knew was brown hair flipped as Veronica turned her head, surprised to see her running towards her with tears flowing out of her eyes. Little needed to be said, though, as Veronica simply stopped in the middle of the corridor and held her arms out, so that Heather could fall into them and sob.
“I can’t see, I can’t see colour, everything is so grey, I don’t-”
“It’s okay.” Her hand stroked the back of her head, exactly where the faint aching was. “Let’s get you some ibuprofen and water. You can tell me about it when we’re alone, okay?”
Heather nodded shakily, and she was taken back to Veronica’s house, given some ibuprofen to ease her headache, some ice cold water and… a lot of hugs. She was still unsure how to react to the last part.
“How are you feeling?” Veronica asked, stroking Heather’s hair soothingly and letting her rest on her shoulder.
“Empty,” Heather replied solemnly. “I thought you said we didn’t have a hole that needs filling. Why do I feel so empty?”
“Because you believed you did for years,” Veronica replied. “It’ll take you a while to unlearn the junk everyone teaches you your whole life. Even longer when your soulmate reinforced that idea in the most toxic way.”
Heather could only stare forward. Who knew that the last time she was in Veronica’s room was the last time she’d see it in colour?
“How long will it take for me to get used to this?”
“I can’t be the judge of that.” Veronica rested her head on top of Heather’s. “It may take days. It may take months. It may take years, but you’ll get used to it.”
Heather curled up on herself. “I don’t understand,” she murmured against Veronica’s black and white blazer - and yes, it was actually black and white. She remembered the colours by recognising the asymmetrical patterns. “I was stupid and naive to love Heather, but I’m stupid and naive to go against fate.” She buried her head into the crook of Veronica’s neck. “Which one is it? Am I doomed to be stupid and naive no matter what?”
“You’re not doomed to be anything, and you are neither of those things,” Veronica told her, pulling her closer. “Fate is a path we choose to take, when we refuse to look at our surroundings to look for other paths. By only looking forward - doing the very thing you were told to do from birth - you don’t notice your surroundings getting darker, more dangerous. Many don’t escape, either because they feel like they have nowhere to go but forward, or because forward is the most comfortable option. You never know where those other paths may lead, after all.”
Though what she said was scary to Heather, her voice was strangely calming to listen to.
“Do you know where those paths lead?”
Veronica chuckled. “Haven’t a clue, my love. But isn’t that the joy of life?” She shifted so Heather would lift her head up to look at her. “Unpredictability?”
Heather gazed at her longingly. “Don’t you get scared?”
“Everyone gets scared.”
“How do you stop being scared?”
“Having someone to walk with helps.”
Chewing on her lip, Heather leaned closer and murmured,
“Can you please walk with me?”
Veronica smiled, leaning in as well. “Of course.”
A burst of pain shot through the back of Heather’s skull again. Not as intense as before, and so it only made her groan in annoyance, though the same couldn’t be said about Veronica, who let out a string of curse words in the few seconds the pain remained. Then, it was gone, and they both blinked at each other. Heather thought it was odd, but assumed nothing of it, as Veronica was still very much black and white. Veronica, on the other hand, had widened her eyes and was staring at Heather with bewilderment.
“Veronica?”
Veronica didn’t reply, instead just gripped her chin and moved closer, before finally exclaiming,
“Your eyes! They’re green!”
“What?”
“I… I see it. They’re green. They’re dark green around the pupil, then bright green in the iris… they’re green. ”
“Veronica… what do you mean you can see it? You’re colourblind!”
Veronica tried to gather her words for a moment. “You felt it, right? That pain?”
“Y-yes? I assumed it was just leftover from before-”
“What in my room is blue?” Her gaze darted around the room. “Fuck, I don’t remember, I…”
As she frantically searched, Heather let her eyes trailed elsewhere, and eventually they fell on Veronica’s phone sitting on her nightstand.
Her blue phone.
“Your phone is blue.” Heather widened her eyes. “I see blue. I can see blue, Veronica!”
“I see green! ” Veronica covered her mouth. “I didn’t even know this was possible...”
“Me neither.”
They both stared at each other for a long moment, acceptance finally settling in.
“Do you still want to walk with me?” Veronica asked.
“Of course I do,” Heather replied. The pair smiled at one another, before leaning in to close the gap that they had both wanted to close for far too long.
The kiss was just as amazing as last time, if not better, because now Heather lacked the guilt and much of the confusion that was once there, even if some still lingered, staying with her discomfort at losing so much colour.
No doubt she’d miss all her lost colours. No doubt she would likely always wish things could have been different, that she’d always long to see the world as a rainbow again. But if Heather could be grateful for anything, anything at all, it would be the one colour she had found, not through fate, but on her own. One that she got to keep by her own choice.
“Veronica?” she whispered against her lips.
“Yes?”
“Can I touch you?”
She was met with the warmest smile she had ever been faced with.
“Of course you can, Heather.”