"Hey, Sunshine."

Heather climbs into the car and rolls her eyes. "Are you already drunk? Should I be driving?"

"I'll let you judge for yourself." Veronica pulls out of the driveway and starts towards her own house. "Also, do you happen to have the history answers? I can't afford to fail another class."

"Yeah, I brought my books. My mom's on me about my grades again. I know that isn't the ideal way to spend a sleepover-"

"We both need it. And hey, right now, everything that isn't staying in bed all day counts as productive." She eyes Mac and then looks at her longer. "Have you been crying?"

"Is it that obvious? I told you, my mom was getting on me about my grades. It's fine."

"It's not fine if you're upset. Want to talk about it?"

She shakes her head, and they pull into the driveway.

"My parents aren't at home. We can order pizza or something." Veronica eyes Mac again. "I'm paying."

"But-"

"Shush."

Heather glares at her but remains silent and grabs her bags. When they get into Veronica's room, she flops down on the bed and is hit with the smell of smoke and lavender. It smells like Veronica, which makes her cheeks go red. She sits up and begins taking books out of her bag to hide it.

"What are you struggling with the most?" Ronnie asks, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Everything! I'm failing high school!"

She puts a hand on her shoulder. "Calm down, Macaroon. We'll figure it out. Let's start with math."

Heather groans but opens her math book. "I have like a week's worth of work to do."

"Then we should start."

Facing her bad grades head-on is what Mac has been avoiding. No one is patient enough to sit there when she breaks down from the pressure or the anger of whoever is trying to help her. That is if someone helps her.

"O-ok..."

They work for the next half hour, Veronica trying to explain things step by step and Mac zoning out because of how smart she is. She's proof that you can be smart and beautiful.

"Heather!" Veronica snaps in front of her face, biting her lip and twirling a pencil.

"Hmmm?"

"Come on, stay with me. We're almost done."

"We are not! I still have like..." she flips through workbook pages and counts them, panic rising more with every page she turns.

"Heather. Look at me. You have to believe in yourself, okay? No one's expecting you to be perfect but you can do this if you try." Veronica gives her one of those smiles that make Mac have to struggle to not turn red.

"Thanks, RonRon. How do you do it?" She blurts the question before they can start on the next problem.

"Do what?"

"Keep it all together. You had to go to your best friend's funeral and you're... I dunno..."

"Not sad?" Veronica guesses. "I am, Mac. Believe me. But sometimes you have to push that stuff aside before it possesses you."

Heather nods and rests her head on her shoulder. "Thanks for helping me. My mom never makes me do homework and my dad is too busy to check. I don't see the point and then panic before tests."

"We're going to break that cycle, alright? One thing at a time, Macaroon." She erases something on the paper and turns the page of the textbook.

"I'm going to go pick up the pizza, want to come?" Veronica jiggles her keys and puts one hand on the doorknob.

"Uh... could I stay here? Anxiety," Mac explains. In truth, her anxiety is fine. But for some reason, she wants to stay in Veronica's room.

"Yeah, Okay. I'll be back in a minute," Veronica promises before slipping out the door.

Heather walks back into her room, flopping down on the bed before sitting back up and deciding to surprise her and try to do some work on her own. She glances at the desk and realizes she needs paper.

The first desk drawer is full of random pencils, old coupons and recipes, and paints. So much as been shoved in it that it will barely close. The second one is filled with markers, pens, and has a jar of cash.

The third one is hidden by stacked shoeboxes and locked.

I shouldn't.

She begins digging around the jewelry box on the dresser for a key nonetheless, pulling out necklaces and bracelets and... photos?

A stack of them sits at the bottom of the box. Forgetting about the paper and the key, she begins flipping through them.

Veronica and JD. Them in a car, both grinning with unlit cigarettes held in the corner of their mouths. Her with her head thrown back in laughter, him with an arm over her shoulders as he looks at her. Some are posed, most likely due to the request of a stubborn Veronica. The stack comes to an end five photos later. She flips the last one over, one where Veronica sits on a bench, with what looks like fire illuminating her face. The background is dark. She holds her arm up, but Mac fails to see anything out of the ordinary. She isn't wearing a bracelet or anything to show off to a camera.

Heather swears she can see tear stains on her face.

On the back are three words written in black marker. It isn't Veronica's neat handwriting, but letters that are slanted and thick.

To The End.

She tosses the photos down and spots something shiny on the bottom of the box. Picking it up, her fingers slide around the body of a red lighter with "1989" written in marker. She flicks it but no flame starts.

Is it some kind of metaphor? Does it have to do with him? She puts it back and pulls a neatly folded piece of paper out. As she unfolds it, a pang of guilt hits her chest. Last time she went through something of Veronica's it didn't end well. But the curiosity is too much to resist giving in to.

I'm finally getting out of this place. I'll be free. Maybe if it weren't such a crappy life in Sherwood, at Westerburg, I'd stay. But it is. Life doesn't have to be this way, and I'm glad that it won't be for much longer.

Under it are random lines. Forgive me for wanting to leave...maybe I don't have a chance at redemption... I hope this gives someone courage...

All of them are crossed out. Heather's hands shake as she folds it. It's a suicide note, it has to be. She puts the contents back in the jewelry box and closes it, sitting on the edge of the bed and debating what to do. She can't confront Veronica with their friendship already on the line after the kiss. Bringing up JD can't end any better than that did.

Then she thinks back to the diary. One entry stands out in her mind. "I told him today," it read. She finds her next move an act of impulse fueled by concern. Veronica's diary is in the first drawer of her nightstand. She flips through until finding the entry.

Dear Diary,

I told him today. I felt my life fall apart when I saw those two lines a few hours ago, and I hoped he would understand. It didn't go as bad as I thought it would, but we're both still in shock and trying to figure things out. I don't know if the plan we thought of as a joke will really be the solution now. I think it will. I'll write later, I'm exhausted.

V.S

The first time that Heather went through the diary, she didn't understand as she skimmed the entry. Only now it clicks into place. She told him about the baby that day. Mac furrows a brow, closing the book with shaking hands as another realization hits her.

Veronica found out that she was pregnant just weeks ago.

But the entry is from September.