Modern Heathers

Chapter Eleven: I Swear It Was An Accident, Part Two

Heather leaned her head against the headboard, lazily glaring at me. "What did you make for me?" She asked in a condescending tone.

"Toast with jam and orange juice," I said, passing her the plate and the mug.

Heather rolled her eyes at it. "Not much effort there, huh?"

"Sorry Heather."

She sat up straight and chugged the orange juice, watching me. "You wanted me to forgive you? Then start begging."

"Well I-"

Suddenly Heather froze, a hand on her throat. She stood, looking as if she was about to vomit. Her face paled and she stumbled forward.

"Corn..... nuts." She choked out as she collapsed, landing in a heap on the floor.

"Holy shit," JD breathed.

I quickly pulled out my phone. "Don't just stand there, call for help!" I screamed at him, already typing in 911.

"It's a little late for that," he said, lifting one of Heather's arms and releasing it; she was totally limp.

A knot was beginning to form in my throat. "Is she...?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"I just killed my best friend."