Chapter Text
September 1st, 1989
Dear Diary…
I believe I’m a good person. You know, I think that there’s good in everyone, but…Here we are! First day of senior year! And uh…I look around at these kids that I’ve known all my life, and I ask myself—
What happened?
Sophia walked through the halls of Dream Academy High, her arms wrapped tightly around her textbooks, her shoulders drawn in, making herself small, and hopefully unnoticeable. Her glasses slid down her face, her oversized sweater-vest drowning her. Around her, chaos ensued, as is when one’s school is overrun by delinquents.
Jocks shoved nerds against lockers. “Pretty” girls snickered and laughed, pointing at other girls who didn’t fit the standard. Ugly names and slurs were thrown around like they were nothing.
The Filipina remembered the good, ole days back when they were all kids—tiny and happy, playing tag at recess, laughing and getting along with absolutely no care or worries in the world.
But, of course, they all grew up.
And not for the better.
Sophia didn’t notice another girl walking in her direction as she reminisced, not until she accidentally bumped into her. The girl grunted at the impact, glaring daggers at the Filipina.
“Oh, sorry!” Sophia immediately exclaimed, cowering slightly. The girl just scoffed and rolled her eyes before walking away, leaving Sophia, a relieved sigh escaping her lips.
This ain’t no high school. She thought. This is the, “Thunder Dome.”
The raven-haired girl groaned, silently praying, “God, please let me make it to graduation.”
Nine months.
Just nine months, then Sophia would be free from this hell-hole.
Still, the senior had faith—had hope—that things would be different this year. That maybe they all could be those carefree kids from kindergarten again.
A sudden movement caught Sophia’s attention, her head turning to see a smaller kid falling onto the ground after being tripped. The group of jocks snickered, walking away like they didn’t do anything. Sophia quickly ran to his side.
“Hey, are you okay?” she asked, extending her hand out only for the boy to swat it away, practically hissing.
“Get away, nerd!” He yelled before getting up and storming off. Sophia blinked, stunned.
“Oh…Okay.”
The senior sighed.
Guess the day she hoped for wouldn’t be happening today.
As Sophia continued down the halls, her mind drifted as it always did, wondering and fighting the urge to strike a match and set this dump of a school ablaze.
The raven-haired Filipina rounded a corner, stopping as she was met with the sight of a senior jock, sending a freshman’s lunch tray clattering onto the ground, food spilling everywhere.
Jonah Abraham, aka Abe.
Third-year as linebacker and eighth year of smacking lunch trays—
“And being a huge dick…,” Sophia grumbled. Abe’s head snapped to her, his eyes narrowing as he stepped into her space, his face inches away from hers.
“What did you say to me, skank?”
Sophia’s eyes widened, taking a step back. “N-nothing!” Abe just smirked, satisfaction flashing in his eyes, and Sophia wanted nothing more than to punch that smug look off of his face.
But she couldn’t, so, instead, she turned around to walk away, to get as far away as she could from the jerk, not noticing the figure standing in front of her until she turned her head, coming face to face with her best friend since diapers.
Yoonchae Jeung.
Sophia squealed in surprise, jumping slightly at Yoonchae’s sudden appearance.
“Ah! Hey, Yoonchip!”
“Hey,” the Korean girl greeted, dully, slightly awkward. “We on for movie night?”
Sophia grinned back, equally awkward but excited. “Uh, yeah! You’re on Jiffy Pop detail!”
Yoonchae’s face brightened at that, her eyes sparkling. “I rented The Princess Bride!”
The Filipina chuckled at that. “Woah-ho-ho, again? Wait, don’t you have it memorized by now?”
The younger of the two shrugged, her face falling into a sad, almost bittersweet smile, the light in her eyes dimming. “What can I say? I’m a sucker for a happy ending…”
Before Sophia could respond, a loud, grating voice boomed through the halls.
“YOONCH*NK, WIDE LOADDD, HONK! HAHAHA!” A senior jock barged through the crowd of students, his eyes set on Yoonchae, smacking her textbooks to the ground, cackling obnoxiously.
Jonah David, quarterback.
He is the smartest guy on the football team, which is kind of like being the tallest dwarf.
Sophia saw Yoonchae’s defeated face, her bottom lip quivering as she tried to hold in her tears. The Filipina turned, glaring daggers at Jonah, who was still laughing, hooting and hollering like a hooligan. She spoke with a rare confidence, edged with protectiveness.
“Hey! Pick that up right now!” Jonah turned to her with a raised brow.
“I’m sorry, are you actually talking to me?”
Sophia felt her knees weaken, fear striking her core, but she held her ground for Yoonchae.
“Yes, I am! I wanna know what gives you the right to pick on my friend. You’re a high school has-been waiting to happen. A future gas station attendant.”
Silence.
The hallway went still.
Jonah’s eyes narrowed, taking a couple of steps towards the Filipina. He leaned forward, towering over her until their faces were merely inches apart. His gaze was focused on something. Sophia didn’t know what until—
Jonah smirked. He pulled back, pointing to her forehead.
“You have a zit right there.”
The entire hallway broke out into snickers, Sophia’s face burning red.
Dear Diary…
Why?
That seemed to be the question everyone was thinking, not just Sophia.
Murmurs haunted the halls—of students’ thoughts, their regrets, their insecurities.
Why don’t I fight back?
Why do I act like such a creep?
Why won’t he date me?
Why did I hit him?
Why do I cry myself to sleep?
Sophia could hear the cries of some students as they walked through the halls, trying their best to survive, just like her.
“Somebody fix me.” / “Somebody save me.”
“Send me a sign, God. Give me some hope here. Something, anything, to live for.”
Then, as if God heard their pleas, the double doors of the hallway opened.
But what came through wasn’t a miracle.
It was Hell on heels.
Time felt like it had suspended in the air, every head turning towards the doors as three figures walked through.
The Heathers.
On the far right, clad in a bright, plaid yellow blazer over a light, pastel yellow button-up and a matching plaid, yellow skirt, topped with knee-high yellow socks and light heels was Heather Skiendiel.
Head cheerleader. Her dad is loaded, he sells engagement rings.
On the opposite end, on the far left, clad in an equally bright, green blazer over a white button-up and black skirt with knee-high green socks and black heels was Heather Raj.
Runs the yearbook. No discernible personality, but her mom did pay for implants.
And then, in the middle, at the very front of their triangle formation—
was Heather Avanzini, the Almighty.
Or as Sophia likes to call her—a mythic bitch.
She wore a fiery red blazer over a white button-up and a black-and-white plaid skirt. Her socks were knee high, paired with an expensive set of Mary Janes. Her flawless blond curls were pulled back into a high, half-ponytail, held by her infamous red scrunchie.
The three walked through the halls, students parting for them like the Red Sea. They were like solid Teflon. Never bothered, never harassed.
Sophia would give anything to be like that.
Murmurs filled the halls once more, following the trio as they passed.
“I’d like to be their boyfriend.”
“I’d like them to be nicer.”
“I’d like to kidnap a Heather and photograph her naked in an abandoned warehouse and leave her tied up for the rats.”
All heads, including the Heathers’, turned to the lanky student who said that, their faces incredulous. Under Avanzini’s cold gaze, the boy squeaked and immediately darted. The red-clad leader smirked, basking in her effect on others before turning back with the other two Heathers, walking into a nearby bathroom.
The hallway seemed to return to normal then, going back to its usual chaos of hell breaking loose, but Sophia’s eyes stayed trained on the bathroom door the Heathers disappeared through. Then, without thinking—
She moved forward.
Straight into the lionesses’ den.
As Sophia entered, quietly, the first thing she noticed was Avanzini and Skiendiel standing outside one of the stalls. From it, the muffled sounds of a girl throwing up could be heard, which Sophia assumed was Raj.
Avanzini scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Ugh, grow up, Heather! Bulimia is so ‘87.” Seconds later, Raj emerged from the stall, her normally perfect, dark olive complexion looking pale, contrasting her jet black hair. Skiendiel looked at her with concern.
“Maybe you should see a doctor, Heather.”
Raj turned to her, thoughtful. “Yeah, Heather, maybe I should.” She said, before her cheeks puffed out, running back inside the stall.
The door to the bathroom opened, revealing their teacher—Ms. Missy—wearing a pair of red reading glasses and her iconic high bun.
“Ah. Heather and Heather,” the sound of vomiting echoed through the room, “And Heather.” The teacher sighed, her gaze fixed and pointed at the trio.
“Perhaps you didn’t hear the bell over all the vomiting. You’re late for class.”
Avanzini gave Ms. Missy an innocent look, sarcasm dripping in her voice. “Heather wasn’t feeling well. We’re helping her.”
Missy let out a low chuckle. “Not without a hall pass, you’re not. Week’s detention.”
That was when Sophia made her presence known.
“Uhm, actually! Ms. Missy, the four of us are out on a hall pass,” the Filipina handed a slip of paper to the teacher, awkwardly, “Yearbook committee.”
Ms. Missy looked at Sophia, skeptically, her eyes scanning the note. As she read it, her face fell into a grimace. “I see you’re all listed…,” she grumbled, annoyed, handing the note back to Sophia. “Hurry up and get where you’re going.”
With that, the teacher disappeared, Sophia letting out a sigh of relief, cheering internally that her note worked. But her celebration didn’t last very long because, now, she had the attention of the three most popular and most powerful people in school.
Sophia gulped as Avanzini approached her, ripping the hall pass from her hand to look at it. The Filipina stood nervously, physically feeling her legs shaking as the leader’s eyes narrowed, shooting back towards her.
“This is an excellent forgery,” she commented, slowly, almost impressed, but it was clouded by suspicion, “Who are you?”
The Filipina trembled, fear gnawing at every bone in her body. Her throat felt tight, but she forced herself to speak.
“S-Sophia. Laforteza. I crave a boon.”
Avanzini’s eyes narrowed further, sharpening into blades. “What boon?”
Sophia was taller than Avanzini, so she bowed her head slightly, making herself smaller and looking up at the blonde Latina with pleading doe-eyes.
“Uhm, let me sit at your table, at lunch. Just once! No talking necessary. If people think that you guys tolerate me, then they’ll leave me alone.”
The three Heathers laughed, condescendingly. Sophia’s heart skipped a beat, desperation clawing through her throat.
“Before you answer, I also do report cards, permission slips, and absence notes.”
Raj’s eyes lit up. “How about prescriptions?”
Avanzini glared at her. “Shut up, Heather!”
The Indian immediately backed off, her posture shrinking. “Sorry, Heather…”
The Latina turned back to the Filipina, humming in thought, her dark hazel eyes scanning over every inch of Sophia’s body.
“Hmm…For a greasy, little nobody, you do have good bone structure.”
A flash of ginger popped into Sophia’s view as Skiendiel also examined the raven-haired nerd. “And a symmetrical face. If I took a meat cleaver down the center of your skull, I’d have matching halves. That’s very important.”
“Of course, you could stand to lose a few pounds,” Raj quipped, bitterly.
Avanzini hummed, her eyes still lingering on Sophia’s face, trailing down to her lips.
“You know…this could be beautiful. Mascara, maybe some lip gloss…” The blonde turned to the other two Heathers. “Get this girl some blush, and Heather, I need your brush.” Her gaze turned back to Sophia, her eyes flashing as she smiled, wickedly. “Let’s make her beautiful.”
Sophia felt her breath hitch as Avanzini drew closer to her, makeup brush in hand. Her other hand lightly traced the raven-haired girl’s jaw, her nails brushing her skin like a blade. The Latina spoke low, her voice soft yet dangerous, leaving Sophia breathless and maybe a little wet.
“Okay?”
“Okay!” Sophia managed to squeak out.
Avanzini smirked, and the transformation began.
Outside the bathroom, the hallways remained a dangerous minefield. Students fought, others yelled, most were just trying to get by without getting caught.
There was no peace.
Until the bathroom door opened, and someone yelled out.
“Who’s that with Heather?”
All heads turned once again, meaningless chatter filling the halls.
“Woah, she’s a babe.” Some boys whistled, earning smacks and eye rolls from the girls next to them.
The unknown figure walked behind the Heathers, clad in a royal blue blazer over a white button-up and a slate gray skirt. She wore white, knee-high socks and a pair of glossy, black Mary Janes. Her raven-hair shined, falling in perfect, soft waves that flowed as she walked.
A pair of eyes in the crowd recognized her instantly.
Yoonchae, who stared at the girl, disbelieving, her voice coming out small, slightly broken.
“Sophia?”
Avanzini smirked, stepping aside to let Sophia walk through, revealing her new self to the people of DA. For the first time, she wasn’t met with boo’s or racist remarks. Instead, the students cheered, chanting her name, almost in reverence.
Sophia basked in it, a relieved grin on her face. For once, she felt beautiful.
And in this school, when you’re beautiful?
It’s a beautiful fucking day.
Sophia laughed like she had won the lottery, unaware of the way Yoonchae’s face fell as students shoved past her, flocking her best friend. The young Korean silently hoped they were still on for movie night, but seeing Sophia’s face—
She wasn’t sure if the Filipina even remembered she existed.