Chapter Text
Heather has been seething for weeks and for good reason.
Look, the thing is, when Sawyer first arrived Heather could not be bothered to give any fucks about this new nobody waltzing into Sherwood and throwing their complacent little town amuck with gossip and imaginary scandal.
Frankly, Heather thought a little uproar, some drizzling of excitement has been long overdue.
She. Just. Doesn’t. Care.
Except Little Miss Upstart went from having absolutely nothing to do with her to being the most massive annoyance in Heather’s nearly eighteen years of existence.
And she’s friends with Jason Dean who, let’s be real, probably shortened her lifespan by a decade just by being associated with him.
Hell, this whole fiasco is Jason’s fault.
One day, they’re talking about college plans like they usually do then the next thing Heather knows Jason has not shut up about Sawyer. It’s like every opportunity he got he was Veronica-this or Veronica-that or Veronica-somehow-even-though-the-conversation-had-nothing-to-do-with-her-in-the-first-place.
Heather was willing to be forgiving. Was—past tense—being the operative word. His blatant little crush on the newbie was cute. Then, somehow, he manages to infect Heather and Heather and now they’re always talking about Veronica-this and Sawyer-that.
What? Did they all have a secret meeting called Let’s Discuss Veronica Sawyer at Every Given Opportunity Especially When Heather is Around?
Heather is pissed but, really, they can talk about whoever the fuck they wanted to talk about. Who cares. She most definitely does not.
Veronica Sawyer is beneath her.
Except.
Heather suddenly can’t dismiss Sawyer as beneath her because the bitch had the fucking audacity of relegating her to second place in the school-wide story writing competition. Three long years of being a winner and this greasy, little nobody puts an ugly smidge on her otherwise perfect record.
Heather would have protested but she read the story and fuck Sawyer but the girl could write.
It was beautiful, honest, and raw—and Heather is really, really, really furious and torn and annoyed. Because how dare Sawyer come to Sherwood and bring her more-than-just-nice writing and make Heather put crummy little second place in her college applications.
Sure, Heather was still a technically better writer but Sawyer apparently conveyed more emotion and tenderness and whatever the fuck Ms. Fleming was gushing about. And as much as Heather disliked to admit it emotions weren’t exactly her strongest suit. And Sawyer just so happened to excel at it.
Fuck Sawyer.
After that, everything was Sawyer-this and Sawyer-that, and Heather could not go two feet without being bombarded by Veronica Sawyer’s suddenly ever-present self.
And Heather hasn’t even actually met her in person.
But now Heather was frustrated enough to care that Sawyer was suddenly everywhere and on everybody’s lips. She did not endure having Jason Briggs practically dry humping her leg at the college party last week just so Veronica fucking Sawyer can be the talk of the school.
Because she apparently decked Ram Sweeney and gave him a broken nose.
Granted, Heather finds Ram getting punched very hilarious and more than likely well-deserved.
Still.
Heather is furious and if—when she sees Sawyer, the newbie is going to see just who rules this school.