Dead Girl Walking || Heathers Modern AU || mango_maya

Chapter Two

AN- Haven't written in a while, so here's a short-ish chapter. Please vote and comment!

Dear Diary,

So, it's been two weeks since I sold my soul to the devil, who wears Heather Chandler's face. I haven't talked to Martha or Betty since that weekend that Heather took me shopping, and changed my whole life, not to be dramatic or anything. I'm part of the popular group now. I don't get made fun of, but I'm the only one under the Heathers protection. Martha and Betty are not.

I look up and see him. The boy wears a flannel shirt with a black jacket over it. He has a slushie in hand. A weird choice for fall.

"Veronica," Duke interrupts my thoughts, "Heather says to get to the cafeteria, stat."

"Okay, jeez," I say, standing up.

Heather Duke starts to walk, glaring at Betty as she goes.

"You shouldn't have bowed down to the diet coke heads," the boy says, walking towards me.

"Excuse me?" I respond, taken aback.

"It seems like you have a soul, unlike the color-coded girls you hang out with."

I just stared at him.

"We are all born with marks for evil." He smirked and walked past me.

I turn to face him. "Woah, you can't just quote Charles Baudelaire at a girl then walk away. I didn't catch your name."

Without missing a beat, he responds, "I don't remember throwing it. Au revoir, Veronica."

"Okay, Mr. No-name Kid." I pick up my bag and head to the cafeteria, unable to shake him from my mind.

"God, what the hell took so long, Veronica?" Chandler asks.

"I got caught up. Why'd you need me here?" I push my hair out of my face.

"So, I may or may not have taken Ram Sweeney's phone. I need you to get his log in stuff off of it." Heather Chandler explains.

"Oh, my God, Heather, that is so wrong, on so many levels. I am not going to take someone's phone and then take their personal information from it."

"Well, Veronica, if you don't want to, do you want to go sit at the losers' table again?"

I glance over at Martha and Betty. Yes.

"No, I don't."

Heather Chandler hands me the phone. I click the home button. The dummy doesn't even have a passcode on his phone. After searching through his notes and images, I find a screenshot of his passwords. All of them. I quickly send them to myself, and then delete all of the evidence that he may have texted me.

"He's coming, Veronica." Heather MacNamara warns.

I pass the phone back over to Chandler, who waltzes over to Ram. I faintly hear her making up some excuse or another, claiming she found his phone in the halls. Martha glances over at the two, and I can see all of the pain in her eyes. She's liked Ram since kindergarten. I think she still hopes that he will see her. Why would she even want him to?

"That wasn't even hacking. She just had me use his phone," I say, mostly to myself.

"What was that?" Heather Mac looks up from Instagram.

"Nothing, Heather."

She gives me a small smile. MacNamara is the only Heather that I actually like. She's really nice. It sucks that she got thrown in with the others. I think she could do better. But who am I to judge?

"Veronica?" Chandler says, walking back to us.

"Yup?" I turn to her.

"Alright, you have the passcodes?"

"Yeah. Why do we need Ram Sweeney's Instagram information, anyway?"

Chandler immediately gives me a look. "Just give me the passwords, Veronica."

"Fine." I text all of the information to Heather Chandler.

"Thank you," she responds.

We watch her fingers click away. Duke looks over at her phone. "That's hilarious."

"What? Heather, what are you doing?" I say, trying to look at the phone.

"Sending Martha Dumptruck an invite to Ram's party."

"Don't do that." I reach for the phone. "She's had a crush on him since forever. This might break her."

"Does it look like I care?" Heather continues to type.

"C' mon, Heather. What's the use in doing this?" I snatch the phone from her, reading through the message. "'I've liked you for a very long time?'"

"Veronica, what the fuck are you doing?" She pulls the phone back. "We're only having a little fun."

"Yeah, we're only having fun," Duke echoes.

I just look down at my hands. "Okay." 

"Anyway, you will be coming to Ram Sweeney's party with us. Should be fun." Chandler locks her phone and puts it down on the table. 

"I was invited to this party?"

"Of course. You're one of us now."