"Thanks for sticking up for me." (DukeSaw)

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Marshy: Shitty title, yeah. This is to make up for the previous chapter, m'kay? Also I woke up at three am this morning lmao, it's currently 5:30am and I have school in two, three hours. Cool, right? Eh, anyways, make sure to drio dialogue prompts or somethin' that can spark my dead imagination. 'Kay? 'Kayyyy-
#DukeProtectionSquad #ProtectTheStringBean

TW: Eating disorder mentioned, uh, general bullying, and the d-word.
edit: it's now 7:30am at the time of uplpading this.

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“Soulmates are pointless,” Heather Duke stated, as she exited the bathroom stall she was previously retching in, her bulimia making it's appearance whenever she ate. She sometimes wondered how she wasn't dead yet from this ‘diet’ of hers. Heather and Heather turned to look at her as she walked over to grab her own make up.

“You're only saying that because you haven't found yours, Duke,” The yellow Heather, Heather McNamara, stated, “I'm sure if you found him-”

“-Or her,” Heather Chandler - the red Heather, and the alpha of the clique - butted in, “Babe, we can't just assume genders of soulmates,” She continued, in a softer turn as Mac shrugged.

“Sorry,”

Duke had been alone for a while now. She didn't really mind, or care, about the whole soulmate ordeal. Mac and Chandler found eachother back in, what, Kindergarten? It's surprising they haven't grown apart. She didn't mind, they were happy, and she didn't want to disturb them. Besides, she had other issues.

“In other cases, shouldn't you see a doctor about your bulimia, Heather?” Mac asked, patting Duke's back as she sighed, ignoring Chandler's overprotective glare. Yeah, she was real possessive of Mac, but she was the Queen, couldn't really argue with her.

“I don't like my doctor, I swear, he's nuts,” The green clad girl stated with a barely suppressed eyeroll. Chandler shook her head, reapplying her eye shadow.

“He injected you with that to save your life-”

“You know I hate needles!”

“It was a flu jab, Heather!”

Still,” Duke folded her arms, before she suddenly dashed back into the stall, throwing up what seemed to be her whole stomach, and everything she has ever eaten, ever. That was the last of her contents, as she breathed in and out gently.

Click. Click. Click.

Overly cheap heels clinked throughout the hall. The bell had gone a few minutes prior, so it couldn't be anyone, really. Well, apart from-

“Ah, Heather and Heather,” An all too familiar voice echoed through the small room. Ms. Pauline Flemming, a stupidly bad guidance counselor, and Duke's English teacher. Often described as the hippy teacher, or just the really annoying one. Either way, not many people liked her. Duke couldn't keep back her bile that climbed up her throat and she retched again, “…and Heather,” Flemming stated, quite disgusted, “Perhaps you didn't hear the bell over all the vomiting? Lunch is over, and you're late for class,”

“Heather wasn't feeling well, we were helping her,” Chandler stated with a false smile, the one she used on all the teachers and students like Martha Dunnstock, or how she's known, Martha Dumptruck. Flemming arched an eyebrow, looking at her as if she were stupid. She then smiled.

“Not without a hall pass, you're not. Weeks detention,”

However, just before she could actually give the detention slips out, another person burst from the stall furthest away from Duke's.

Heathers Oneshots! (REQUESTS OPEN!)Read this story for FREE!