Chapter Two:
"You're Lucky That Your Little Girlfriend Was Here To Save You."
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Heather blew a bubble with the gum she was chewing, slamming her locker shut for the final time.

She popped the gum, pulling her bag onto her back. Heather weaved through the hundreds of faces as she made her way out of the building.

She passed by Henry Bowers and his psychotic little gang, Patrick Hockstetter with his stupid crazed grin, Belch Huggins that little perverted smirk on his face as he watched girls pass by, Victor Criss, the one that tried to recruit her into the little group of crazies.

She avoided his stare, just wanting a peaceful last day of school.

Unfortunately, that wasn't going to happen. But Heather didn't know that yet.

She watched as Greta Keene purposefully knocked straight a boy from her science class, Stanley Uris. She got along with Stan well, the few rare times they had talked, and had no problem with the boy.

Heather scoffed loudly, earning a middle finger from the annoying girl. Heather smiled sarcastically, returning the gesture.

She walked outside and faced the black bucket, noticing the so-called loser's club, as they had deemed themselves.

All in all, they seemed pretty nice to Heather. She stood on the steps, watching and waiting for the four boys to leave first.

The boy with glasses raised his hand for a highfive, but it immediately got slapped down by Stan.

Heather shook her head to herself, wondering what the loud mouthed boy had said this time. She didn't know his name, but she'd heard his comments about girls and what he'd done with them. And that just screamed virgin to her.

Heather watched as the same boy began to walk off, before being rudely knocked down by one of the Bower's gangs members. Heather felt her mood drop, being taken over by anger and annoyance.

"Jesus Christ, not again." Heather scoffed, tightening her grip onto the backpack. She watched the older boy bully the group of friends, before she decided to step in."Abso-fucking-lutely unbelievable."

Henry Bowers began walking off.. until Bill said something. The blonde mullet wearing asshole spun around and began walking up to the group again.

"Hey!" She shouted, taking fast paced steps towards the group of boys, "You better back the fuck up, Bowers."

The taller boy rolled his eyes as she stepped next to Bill glaring at him. Patrick and Belch laughed, shaking their heads as they watched this exchange.

"What are you gonna do, Scotty? Hm? Verbally abuse me? Ha! Physically assault me? Babe, I'm taller than you. I'm stronger than you, I could fucking kill you. I could do it. Hell, I want to do it." Bowers and his gang laughed. "Who would miss you? I wouldn't. Your dumbass family wouldn't. No one would, Heather Scott. Because no one fucking likes you."

"Big talk comin' from someone whose name sounds like bowls." Heather crossed her arms and squared her body to look bigger and more intimidating.

Bill had slowly backed up so that he was standing with the other three boys, not uttering a word.

"Oh, shit!" The boy with glasses laughed, clapping, "I'm gonna have to use that! That's funny as hell, what ever your name is."

"You fucking bitch! I'm gonna kill you and then I'm gonna cut your body into tiny little pieces!" He whispered maniacally, pulling out a knife. "And then? Then I'm gonna kill the little asshole boyfriend of yours next to you and all his little fag friends."

"You can't say that fucking word, Bowers, oh, oh, sorry, I mean Bowls." Heather squared the boy up as she crossed her arms. "You're just pissed because I didn't wanna join your psychotic little sausage fest."

Henry's eye twitched as he grabbed her by the arm, his grip increasing as he harshly yanked her forward, "Watch your fucking mouth, you little whore. I'm not afraid to hit you. We only wanted you in there for a little fuck doll."

"Watch it, your daddy's watching." Heather smirked, "Wouldn't want him to catch you again, huh? You know what happened last time he caught you threatening me, don't you, Henry?"

Henry froze, shakily looking up at his father before harshly throwing Heather to the ground. Heather didn't under a sound, getting up quickly to not show him any weakness.

He squared his shoulders, turning his attention towards Bill, "You're lucky that your little girlfriend was here to save you. But she won't be here every time. And I'm gonna make sure your summer is a living hell."

"And you, you fuckin' bitch, you're gonna regret stepping in-" Heather cut him off before he could continue.

"Come near me, or Bill, Stan, the kid with glasses, or the tiny one, I will fuck you up."  Heather finished her sentence by spitting on his face. "Now, get the fuck away from us before I tell your daddy on you. He wouldn't want to hear that, would he?"

"Oh, you're gonna fucking regret that, you little bitch." He glared, smacking her across the face. "This summer's gonna be a shit show for you."

He wiped the spit off of his face and turned to walk away. Heather raised her middle finger to the boys, though they couldn't see it.

"That, was hot as fuck. What's your name, sexy face?" The boy with glasses smirked, sliding his arm around her, "Mines Richie Tozier, also known as your future husband, and you can spit on me any day."

"Arm. Off." She said slowly. Richie let his arm fall from her shoulders, still waiting for an answer. "The name's Heather. Heather Scott."

"Wait a minute! Did you call me 'the little one'?" The little one shouted, "I'm not little!"

"Sorry, didn't know your name." Heather shrugged, popping her gum.

"It's Eddie Kaspbrak!" He shouted, taking a puff of his inhaler.

"He-Hey, uh, thanks for t-t-th-th-that." Bill smiled at her, scratching the back of his neck, "But, uh, you d-di-didn't have to.."

"Please! And miss a chance to fuck with Bowers? He's always messin' with you, and you guys don't deserve it." Heather shrugged.

Stan stood silent, watching her with confusion written on his face.

"Wha-"

"Science class!" He suddenly interrupted, "You're in my science class."

Heather popped her gum, glancing him up and down. "Yeah."

Bill looked between them before speaking again. "S-S-See you around?"

"Later, losers." She began walking backwards before she spun and began walking towards her bike.

"Holy shit, guys, that's hot as fuck. And that as- Ow! What the fuck, Bill?"

Heather let out a low chuckle, shaking her head at the silly boy. She reached her hand into her pocket for her gum.

"Ugh, shit, come on." Heather groaned, realizing she'd have to make a stop at Mr. Keenes pharmacy on the way home. "Great."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

{ Word Count: 1173 }

{ A/n: richie telling heather to spit on him is a mood }

{ Edited: Yes }