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Strange

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It was weird, not having Veronica sit with them. Or walk with them. Or be with them, in general.

It was also weird seeing Veronica in what she wore before them.

Leather. Lots of leather. Leather jacket, combat boots, spikes, chains, ripped jeans, band tee shirts or crop tops. Black lipstick, smoky eyeliner.

Holy hell, Heather Duke was gay.

Heather Duke had kept a close eye on her, just to see what she was up to. She started hanging around the new kid, who wore a trench coat and kind of looked like a school shooter. 

Heather could see him try to make her laugh a lot at lunch, when they were sitting with Betty and Martha.

Her smile never reached her eyes.

Kind of like all of the Heathers.

Chandler had lost her fire, and with it, her control.

Mac had lost her spunk- she wasn't fit to lead.

So, Duke stepped up to the plate, leading until Chandler could take the reins again.

Duke didn't eat anymore.

She didn't think she'd seen Veronica eat recently, either.

Within a week, it seemed like Veronica had broken. She seemed constantly on edge, she always pulled her sleeves down to cover her arms completely. The circles under her eyes got darker and darker as the week got closer to Friday.

Friday morning, Duke witnessed Jesse James carrying an unconscious Veronica to the nurse.

"What happened?" She had asked.

"She fainted. She'll be okay. Continue on, Captain," was his reply.

And during lunch, she seemed fine. She nibbled at a cafeteria burger, her eyes shifting nervously. 

She locked eyes with Duke, tearing up.

She got up and walked off, tossing her burger into the trash.

"Veronica?" Billy the Kid called after her.

She didn't reply.

Within seconds, he was up, following her, his coat billowing behind him.

Duke turned her attention back to her book, and ignored the sound of sirens outside.