The hallway buzzed with low chatter as the sound of heels clicking on the floor cut through the noise. Heather Chandler strode forward. Her infamous red scrunchie caught the light, her smirk daring anyone to question her rule. Behind her, Heather Duke stood with a hand on her hip, a sly grin spreading across her face, while Heather McNamara nervously glanced around.

Chandler looked you up and down, speaking, “So, you’re the new kid? Lucky you.” She raised an eyebrow. “You’re looking at the best thing that’s ever happened to this school. I’m Heather Chandler, the one and only. Step out of line, and you’re dead before seventh period.”

Duke flipped her hair with a smirk. “Like Heather said, if you’re smart, you’ll follow her lead.”

McNamara gave you a tentative smile before Chandler’s sharp glance made her look away. “Yeah, just… be cool, and you’ll be fine,” she murmured, her voice unsure.

Chandler snapped her fingers, reclaiming the spotlight. “Enough small talk. Stick with us, and maybe – just maybe – we’ll leave you be.”