Heathers One-Shots

Duke x Veronica

Heather Duke x Veronica Sawyer.

Heather is drunk out of her mind, and she's getting to be extremely... open with Veronica. She ends up staying the night with Veronica to avoid going home drunk to her parents, but will Heather's feelings be the same when she wakes up in the morning?

Fluff.

For MacaroniTheSmolBean.

***

Veronica POV:

I'm studying for Ms. Fleming's quiz tomorrow when my phone buzzes. A text from Heather Duke pops up on my screen. Confused, I unlock my phone and read the text.

duke: cooming to yur hose now

She doesn't usually spell this terribly, so I'm slightly confused. I type out a response.

Me: Are you okay?? What's with all the typos?

duke: im durnk

She's drunk. I see. I sigh, texting her back again. 

Me: Are you at a party?

duke: yuppppppp

Me: Where?

duke: ram sweney

Me: I'll be right there. DO NOT DRIVE DRUNK, HEATHER!!!

I try to hit the last part home, not wanting my friend to try to drive here while she's intoxicated. I get up from my desk, slipping on some shoes and going downstairs where my parents are watching T.V. I decide against trying to explain that I'm going to pick Heather up, wanting to avoid excessive questioning. 

I head out the door as quietly as possible, getting into my car and starting the engine. I pull out of my driveway, heading down the road. Ram Sweeney only lives a few blocks away from me, so it's not long before I'm parked on his curb and getting out of my car to find Heather.

I'm not really dressed for a party, but I won't be here long. Ram greets me at the door, a big, dumb smile on his drunken face. I sigh, giving him a smile as to please him, and then I walk inside past him, looking for Heather. When I don't see her right away, I assume she must be in the bathroom or something.

I head towards the bathroom on the first floor. The door is locked, so I knock. "Heather?" I question. "Are you in there?"

"Veronica," I hear her slur, and she sounds like she doesn't feel good. 

She unlocks the door and lets it open, and I walk inside to see that she's on her knees in front of the toilet. She holds back her hair, retching into the porcelain, and I close the door behind me, not wanting anyone to try and spread rumors about her. She doesn't deserve that.

"Hey..." I say gently. "You feeling okay?"

She nods, but her face is pale. "I think that was the last of it," she answers, voice still slurred. She stands, albeit shakily, and flushes the toilet, moving over to the sink to swish water around in her mouth before spitting it back into the sink. She had to have had a lot to drink if she's throwing up. Poor girl. 

"Do you want me to drive you home now?" I ask.

"No," she whines, leaning her head on my shoulder, facing the ground. "I wanna go back to your house."

She's probably trying to avoid her parents. I get that. I would, too, in her situation. "Okay, I'll take you back to my house." I'll just take her back here in the morning to get her Jeep, and she can drive home from there. "Come on."