weak; mcduke

rise

rise (vb)- move from a lower position to a higher one; come or go up.

october 2, 1989 (the same day) / duke's pov

Extending my arms, I shoved open the glass doors of the front of Westerburg High. The halls were tightly-packed at this hour. People still parted way for me to head to my destination. I clenched and unclenched my fists as I moved. I soon arrived at my locker. I pulled off my backpack, hung it up on the hook inside and grabbed a stack of textbooks.

I heard light footsteps behind me and kept my eyes fixed on my locker door. Once the footsteps went quiet I slapped the door shut and turned to see the face of Heather McNamara. My heart thudded. I forced myself to exhale and meet her gaze. Her doe-eyes instantly fell to the ground. Her skin was rather pale and she clutched a single textbook in her arms.

"Heather, follow me," I ordered, emitting a bored tone. She nodded weakly and lagged behind me as I approached the guidance office. I knocked on the door with my knuckles and Ms. Fleming opened it.

"Oh, Heather and Heather. Can I help you?" she asked with forced cheeriness. I shrugged.

"Are we allowed to clean out Heather's locker? Her stuff has been sitting in there for a while, now," I asked sweetly. Heather opened her mouth to speak but a single glare tainted with a bit of my rage kept her mute.

"Sure. Just be respectful." And with that, she closed the door.

I twisted the lock a few times on the former almighty's locker, swearing a few times.

"What the f*ck is her combination?" I muttered. "11-27-1," Heather spoke quietly. I didn't respond and entered it. The door let out a click and opened. The inside had books and makeup littering the bottom. Pictures and trinkets latched onto the door and sides. I began rifling through the items and passed one to Heather. I didn't need to look to see her hand was shaking when she took it from me.

I turned my head as Veronica came to the both of us swiftly. "Oh, hey, guys. Still looking forward to that apology from both of you for being two high-scoring b*tches last night," she spat. I bit my lip, fighting the urge to laugh. I felt Heather tense up at my side.

"Um, cleaning out Heather's locker. Little respect?" I let the sarcasm leak in my words and put my hand to my chest. I noticed Chandler standing at Veronica's side. What did she want now..?

"Ugh, Heather Duke is such a sad little poser," she said to her. How was Veronica supposed to hear a figment of my twisted mind?

"Veronica, tell her to stop touching my stuff! Veronica! Veronica!!" Chandler screamed as I curled my fingers around the one thing I'd been searching for.

"Shut up Heather!" Veronica yelled. There was no way she could hear the ex-queen bee, so I whipped my head around and revealed the red scrunchie that once belonged to her.

"You shut up!" I snapped back. "I don't have to shut up anymore!" There went the punchline. I stretched it and wrapped it around my hear in a makeshift ponytail. This was my entire plan all along. I allowed myself a tiny smile. All my life, I'd been hunted by the mythic b*tch. I'd played her game and won, so I was simply taking my trophy.

My gut hardened with rage that trickled out of my mind. I attempted to block it off, but another dose of fury pulsed through my body. I allowed it, disregarding the stab of dread in the back of my head.

"Hey, that's Heather's scrunchie..." Heather stepped the forward as she protested.

"Shut up Heather," I snapped, miming the line I was constantly told, letting menace lace my words.

"Sorry, Heather." She flinched and leaned backwards. I smiled fakely at no one in particular.

"Now that Heather is gone, it's up to me to replace her," I stated, fixing the scrunchie.

"...Replace Heather Chandler..?" Veronica began. A jolt made its way up my spine. I could feel the shadow watching me from a distance. Payback would be the sweetest thing I'd experience for a long, long time.

// mcnamara's pov

Something was going to happen. I could see it in the look in her eyes, the expression on her face. It was scary; I wasn't good at reading emotions, but I could sense some type of foreboding anger building up. And it was about to overflow.

"Please. You should worry less about me and more about your reputation," she began, stepping closer to Veronica. My muscles locked in place. No...

"Kurt and Ram have been telling the whole school about your little three-way last night." My stomach dropped and lurched.

"Three-way?" A new voice queried. I glanced back. It was Veronica's boyfriend, "psycho trenchcoat kid", as Heather Duke called him.

"Oh, there was no three-way last night. Nothing happened," Veronica stepped backwards, shaking her head rigorously.

"Well I remember differently. I seem to remember there was a-" Duke began. She was cut off as Kurt and Ram lunged around the corner.

"Big sword-fight in her mouth!" they yelled at the same time. My heart quickened and I bit my tongue, not wanting to hyperventilate. Jesus Christ... what had Heather done? I looked over. Veronica gaped, blood draining from her beautifully symmetrical face.

"And she allowed it?" a jock following the two piped up. Ram nodded to him. "Big sword-fight in her mouth!" Kurt yelled again. I felt a stinging sensation and realized I'd been digging my nails into my palms. Heather was smirking smugly, a dark glint in her eye despite the bright lighting in the halls. I stared ahead as Kurt and Ram continued parading around, bragging to each and every person. I stiffened when I felt Heather's hot breath in my ear.

"You'd better f*cking go along with it." The venom contained in the sentence made me check that this was the same person I'd once known and loved. She began spreading the word around as well, charismatically grinning to the crowd. As I followed and watched her verbally destroy Veronica's life, I knew this wasn't Heather. It was something else that'd been festering beneath the surface for a lifetime. And I was responsible for releasing it.