(11) Heather

"Oh my gosh, I have the best teacher this year for history!!"

"Really?" I ask, lazily letting my eyes close from the bright summer sun.

"Yeah, oh my gosh, Alice told me that his hardest question for their midterm last year was 'What year was the War of 1812!' If he's as easy with sophomores as he is freshmen, then I am home free!"

Patsy and I are sprawled on the hammock, comparing our schedules and completely freaking out about this being our last week of total freedom. I'm balancing a plate-of potato salad and the last bit of a hotdog on my lap in the shade of two evergreens, while the other girls are playing badminton.

Cameron, Josh, and Alex are manning the large, smoky grill in front of the deck, and Sammy's putting his finishing pieces of strawberry on a sad looking strawberry shortcake, the whip cream ; belting into a puddle from the strong rays of sun.

Even in the shade, I am sweating terribly in my light blue gingham shorts and white sleeveless shirt. I sigh with content, though, as this is exactly how I want to spend the last days of the summer. The birds are chirping, the bees are buzzing from the towering sunflowers ten feet away, and the air is filled with the chatter and laughter from all my closet friends. I put my bare foot on the grass and push the hammock a little to create a gentle swing.

"Oh look, it's Heather," I feel the hammock jolt around as Patsy cranes her neck to see who's arriving.

"Who?" I ask, not bothering to open my eyes.

"Hea-ther!" Patsy says it slowly, as if I hadn't heard what she had said.

"Who's Hea-ther?" I ask, laughing a little bit.

"The new girl, of course!" I open my eyes and am wide awake now. "A new girl?" I look to the light wooded deck where a darkly tanned, long blonde-haired girl is standing next to the grill. She is completely flirting with Cameron and Josh. I watch her for a few seconds and for some reason I instantly don't like her as she plays with her tresses and Cameron acts all goofy around her. Britney is standing next to her, introducing her to everyone.

"Where's she from?" I ask, not moving my gaze from those tanned shoulders and legs.

"Florida. She moved here last week, right next to Britney's house. Britney's been parading her around like a prized Gucci handbag!" Patsy scowls. I barely hear her as I hear Heather's charming little voice praise Cameron's roasting hamburgers.

"By the way, oh my gosh," Patsy says, "I didn't tell you, did I? You wouldn't believe what I heard Brit telling her the other day at the club! Daria, Britney can't be trusted!"

I don't act surprised at Patsy's words. I am used to Patsy's insults to Britney, and Britney's complaints about Patsy, and I am constantly stuck in the middle. But, still, Britney has never had anything to say about me.

"What did she say?" I ask, wide eyed.

"Just that you're the group tramp." She said it like it had no meaning whatsoever. "She said what?!" Patsy is about to repeat herself, but I cut her off.

"I know what you said, Patsy but what did she mean by telling the new girl that?!!"

"How am I supposed to know. I told you Britney's a brat."

I sit up, knocking my plate onto the grass. Heather is gorgeous. In her hot pink pink halter top and tight black capri pants, she looks like a model, there is no doubt about that.

I had been referred to as the group "tramp?" What on earth would make Britney say that? I guess maybe it appears that I
spend more time with the guys than the other girls do, but whatever, we're just friends! Britney doesn't even know about Brett Mclntire unless Charissa told her, but no, Charissa wouldn't do that.

Patsy gets off the hammock.

"Whatever, Daria, I'm going over to say ‘hi.’”
Just then I watch Cameron take a hot dog off the grill and place it in a bun. Sammy pours on ketchup proudly and they both admire their handiwork in the sunlight- Then they walk toward me and I notice Heather is watching their every step.

"This is one prized dog!" Cameron hands me the plate as if it's sacred.

I pretend not to notice that Heather is still watching us closely.

“Guys, I'm stuffed! I can barely look at that! Cameron, this will be my third".

"C'mon, Daria, one bite won't kill you."

I take a bite and smile- it is pretty good, all the while watching Cameron closely. He keeps glancing over his shoulder at Heather who is still standing next to the grill on the deck.

“So what do you think of the new girl?” I ask, pretending not to know anything about Cameron’s obvious adoration of her.
He looks back at me. “Oh you mean Heather? She’s cool. She already has her driver’s license and is taking me to the beach tomorrow.”

He smiles at her across Sammy’s backyard. This completely annoys me, as she waves so cheerfully back. Then, I can’t be sure, but I think I see Heather smile slyly at me as Cameron turns his head. I jerk my head away from her gaze, pretending not to have noticed that evil but perfect smile.

So Heather wants some competition, does she? I think to myself, burning with hatred for that perky, blonde twerp who just decided to take over after moving here from the land of Mickey Mouse. The next year isn’t going to go as smoothly as I thought, with my new identity as the skank, and a new girl who plans on competing with me for any guy that walks on two legs. My thoughts are interrupted as Sammy’s mom comes outside holding an absolutely gorgeous chocolate cake.

“Sweet, cake!” Cameron jumps off the hammock and Sammy and I follow close behind. I sit at the table next to Josh and my eyes narrow as Cameron coincidentally has to sit next to her highness.

Why am I acting like this, I ask myself? I am never like this. I’ve never had such mean thoughts. I push these thoughts aside, taking a bite of the cake I’ve been handed, trying to enjoy the last few delicious moments of summer.

As Heather pulls out her schedule and Cameron drags his crumpled one of his faded, dark green shorts, the fall suddenly doesn’t seem so inviting.

I’m just going to work extra hard at getting Jeff Waters before she does. I dig deeper into my chocolate cake which just doesn’t taste as good as it should. Suddenly the birds stop chirping, the bees quit buzzing, and the yard turns completely black with only Heather sitting across the table-in that pink halter top and those black Capri pants with her hair cascading around her tan shoulders shimmering in the last few rays of summer.