Modern Heathers

Chapter Twelve: We Did A Murder

"I just killed my best friend," I repeated, staring at Heather's dead body in a crumpled heap on the ground.

"And your worst enemy."

"SAME DIFFERENCE!" I shrieked, slapping JD in the shoulder.

He bit his lip. "Fuck.... well, we did a murder... that's a crime..."

"My life is over," I groaned, burying my face in my hands.

"You can do her handwriting, right?"

"Yeah...."

"We need a note. We can make it look like she killed herself," he said, "Like a suicide thing."

I looked up, trying not to cry. "Like a suicide thing?"

"Well, yeah..." he looked through her desk, pulling the sleeves of his jacket over his hands.

"Why are you doing that?"

"Fingerprints, babe," he sighed, opening a drawer. "Paper. And a pen."

I swallowed. "Well wouldn't that put my prints on the pen?"

"Yeah but you were friends with Heather. It will be okay. Trust me."

I nodded. Trust me. I trust him. He's my world. My everything. I have to trust him. "What do I write."

"I don't know... think. This has to be good enough to fool the cops." He sighed, trying to think. "What would she say? Make it sound like Heather. And it has to be meaningful."

"'Dear world,'" I started. "'Everyone thinks I have everything together. But I don't. Just because I'm gorgeous does not mean I don't understand pain and fear. I hid behind my popularity. But it was like a concrete prom queen crown, it crushed me. Everything in this world has stolen my happiness. I have power and greatness, so why give up? Because I have feelings. I am a person, too.' How's that sound?"

"Good, uh... 'there was pain in my path, my problems were myriad.'"

"'And I was having my period,'" I added, rolling my eyes. "Heather would never say myriad."

"Then what would she say?"

"No one thinks a pretty girl has feelings. But I do. I'm more than makeup and clothes. I'm more than popularity. I'm tired of pretending to be the queen of a world I can't live in anymore. Dear world, goodbye.'"

"Perfect," JD said, taking the note with his hand covered in his sleeve. He laced it under Heather's hand, her fingers on the page. He did the same with the pen. "We should probably clean the kitchen."

I nodded, dear running through my head. We would get caught. We would go to jail. My life was over. I could practically see my future exploding in front of me.

"Veronica," He said, grabbing my hand. "It's okay, alright? We'll be fine. We have each other, right?"

"This is so crazy and stupid and chaotic-"

"Chaos isn't so bad. Chaos is great. Chaos is what killed the dinosaurs, babe." He wrapped his arms around my waist and whispered into my hair. "It's gonna be okay."

I nodded. "I can't believe we just... we murdered Heather Chandler."

"I know. We should hurry up before someone else shows up."

We quickly wiped down the counter and cleaned the mug with the orange juice-egg smoothie in it before heading out and quickly locking the door, replacing the spare key.

Then we were gone.