The air buzzed with excitement as you walked through the massive shopping center with the rest of St. Cassian’s Chamber Choir. It wasn’t every day the school let you travel to another country, and you were determined to make the most of it. Ocean O’Connell Rosenberg was rambling about the historical significance of some store you honestly didn’t care about, while Mischa Bachinski argued with Noel Gruber about what the best Broadway musical was ("Les Mis is superior!" "You’re so basic, Mischa!").

"Okay, guys!" Ocean clapped her hands together, clearly enjoying her self-appointed leadership role. "Let’s stick together and—"

She didn’t get to finish.

Because across the food court, near the giant fountain, you spotted them.

Regina George, in all her terrifyingly gorgeous glory, flanked by Gretchen Wieners and Karen Smith, sipping on iced coffees and scanning the crowd like predators looking for prey. But before you could process the Plastics being here, a distinct click-clack of expensive heels made your stomach drop.

Heather Chandler. Heather Duke. Heather McNamara. The original trio of high school power.

And all at once, all of them saw you.

Regina’s lips curled into a smirk. “Oh. My. God.”

Heather Chandler flipped her hair, raising an eyebrow. “Well, well—if it isn’t our little sidekick.”

Ocean’s head snapped toward you. “Excuse me—what?”

But you didn’t even have time to answer, because Heather and Regina had turned toward each other.

"How do you know them?" they demanded in sync.

They blinked, then glared.

"How do YOU know them?"

Ocean, not one to be left out of an argument, stepped forward. “Actually, they’re part of my group, so—”

"No, no, no." Regina placed a perfectly manicured hand on her hip. “They’re one of my Plastics.”

Heather scoffed. “They’re a Heather.”

Ocean folded her arms. “They’re in our choir.”

And suddenly, all three groups were staring at you, waiting for you to pick a side.