One-hundred and twenty-seven wishes earlier, Belladonna had begun stalking the Heathers. The pair was too wrapped up in their own perfect world to notice what was going on around them. The problem was knowing exactly what she was looking for. She couldn’t follow them around day and night, and she had no way of knowing what it would look like when they did whatever it was they were doing.

But they were doing something. Of that, Belladonna was certain.

Strange things were happening. Their enemies were meeting with strange misfortunes. Boys were suddenly ignoring their girlfriends to flirt with them. The home-ec teacher allowed them to just sit around and chat in class instead of cooking. The Principal, Mr. Everson, was siding with them at every turn, sticking her with detention after detention. And that thing with the librarian, too, and her sudden urge to adopt — wasn’t that normally some sort of long, drawn-out process? But the most disturbing thing, the one that inspired this investigation, was that everyone had lost interest in Belladonna. Her closest friends no longer seemed to care about her, and no one responded to her flirtations anymore. It had started right after she had embarrassed Heather M. with a snarky remark in class. Belladonna was sure it was connected.

In the end, the answer came surprisingly easy when the pair pulled over at a nondescript part of the woods. Belladonna had to drive past them as they got out and lost them while she fumbled with turning around, returning, and parking. After some wandering through the woods, she caught up to them at the well.

Belladonna believed in the supernatural. In fact, she had suspected a supernatural explanation from the start. This suspicious-looking well confirmed it. Eagerly, she followed them down the well and through the caves into the cavern with the pool.

“No way,” she said, the Heathers turning around in shock. “Is this an actual wishing well?”

Heather M. regained her composure quickly and smirked. “Belladonna, I knew you were always a woman of lesser repute, but really now, stalking? Isn’t that a new low — even for you?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Belladonna scoffed. “But can you blame me?” She took in the sight of the cave before continuing, “Weird things have been happening all over town, always with you two at the center of it. This is why, isn’t it?”

Heather S. made a noise, apparently shocked. “You figured that out?”

“What, like it was hard? Anybody with half a brain cell knows how vain you two are. Suddenly fate herself starts going along with you?” Belladonna waved her hand dismissively, “This is huge. Just imagine what we could do.”

Heather S. was smirking now, too. “And what’s to say we’re going to let you use it?”

Belladonna glanced at the pool. “I don’t really see how you’re going to stop me.”

“Are you kidding?” Heather M. replied. “We can do anything we want. We can make you forget you ever saw this place, or make it so that you can never find it again.”

Belladonna’s heart sank. “I was hoping something this big would be enough for us to set aside our feud. But I guess you’re too petty for that. Big surprise from short-stack.”

“STOP CALLING ME THAT!” Heather M. roared, her nostrils flaring. Huffing to calm herself, she looked away. “Besides, can’t you tell that I’m taller than you?”

That felt… wrong. Belladonna was immediately sure of it. “But you didn’t use to be, did you?” Belladonna pointed at the well. “You changed yourself!”

Heather M. approached the surface of the water menacingly. “That’s it — I’m done with this.”

But Belladonna was quicker. She reached into her pocket and found a quarter. In a smooth motion, she tossed it into the pool shouting “I wish the Heathers were unable to make wishes!”

The Heathers watched as the coin landed in the pool, then shared a victorious grin.

“Oh, sweetie, you’re not half as smart as you think you are,” Heather M cooed.

“As my dad would say, the devil is in the details,” added Heather S. as she reached into her skirt pocket.

Suddenly, Belladonna’s heart was pounding. Had she just caught herself in a trap?

“I think we’re going to have to think up something better to do to you,” said Heather M. “Maybe we should make it so that everyone finds you hideous. Or just force you to drop out of school.”

“Wow, what a curse that’d be.” Belladonna cackled. “To make it worse, why don’t you give me your old face? That’ll keep the boys away. At least, that was your experience, right?” Apprehension gnawed at her mind, but she refused to believe Heather McGill could best her. There was a way out of this. There always was. She just needed to tip her over the edge, knock her off her feet.

“Here’s the coin.” Heather S. said, taking an ancient-looking coin out of her skirt pocket and theatrically flourishing it before passing it to a red-faced Heather M.
“So, Belladonna, you thought you were so crafty following us here, did you?” She smirked and turned towards the well. “Well, you’ll be following us everywhere soon.”

Belladonna’s stomach clenched up. “What, like a dog? Didn’t realize you were into pet-play, Heather. Did you pick that up from one of those shitty novels you always read?” Heather M. looked back towards her, but her grin showed no mercy.

“Hm. Your middle name is ‘Heather’, isn’t that right?” Belladonna felt fear strike deep in her heart, her veins going ice cold. Heather M. laughed.

“No,” Belladonna said, almost automatically. In the span of a few moments she had gone from the triumph of thinking she had outsmarted the Heathers to begging them for mercy. “Please.”

Heather M. held out her fingers, raising each one in time with her words. “Heather, Heather, and Heather. I like the sound of that, don’t you?
“H-hold on!” She pleaded. Heather M. cleared her throat and shot her one final conniving grin.
“I wish that Belladonna Heather Kowalski wanted nothing more than to be our friend,” she proclaimed, and in one fluid motion flung the coin into the pool behind her.

Belladonna assumed it would be like a force pushing its way into her mind. Maybe she could resist it. After all, she was still herself, wasn’t she? It couldn’t really change who she was. And what was it going to change, anyway? She already thought the Heathers were amazing.

As soon as that thought occurred to her, she shivered. The wish was already affecting her. She wanted to be their friend more than anything. But why should she want to resist that? They knew best, after all, and if this was how they wanted her to be, it didn’t make any sense to fight.

“How do you feel?” asked Heather S.

What was the correct answer? Certainly, Belladonna was frightened, and maybe even still a little angry, but was that what Heather wanted to hear? Maybe she just wanted to hear that Belladonna was feeling good.

Of course, being here now with the Heathers was starting to make her feel better. It was like she knew things would be okay as long as they were here.

“Good,” she answered, trying to sound enthusiastic.

“Well, that’s certainly a change of demeanor,” said Heather M. “I have to say I’m proud of myself for coming up with a way to punish you and gain us a friend we can trust at the same time.”

Punishment? It took Belladonna a moment to realize Heather M. was talking about what had just happened. Belladonna was sure that she had been right to follow the Heathers here, but that didn’t matter. They thought it was wrong and that made it even worse than being wrong.

“I’m sorry!” Belladonna practically shouted, tears forming in her eyes. “I shouldn’t have followed you. That was really stupid. I can’t believe I did that.”

“Geez, she’s terrified,” said Heather S. as she took a step back. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re going to be our friend now. You should be happy.”

Hope filled Belladonna at Heather’s kind words. The world was bright now. Nothing could go wrong. She had never been happier. “I am?”

“Of course.” She smiled, and the idea of not smiling in return was unthinkable.

“We’ll have to do something about those clothes,” Heather M. cut in. “We can’t have you following us around looking like that.”

Belladonna loved her clothes, but she realized now that her sense of style must have been terrible if Heather M. disliked it so much. She plucked nervously at her favorite black leather jacket and green band tank.

“I bet you’d look good in pink,” suggested Heather S.

“Erm,” Belladonna started. It was extremely difficult to object. She desperately hoped it wouldn’t cause any problems. “Pink… isn’t really my color.”

Heather M. gave her a disappointed look. “Oh. That’s too bad.”

Terror filled Belladonna. She felt like she was suddenly on the brink of losing everything she had just gained. Disappointing Heather was even worse than angering her.

“Oh, but maybe I could try it,” she said with a frantic haste. “Actually, I bet it would look great on me.”

Heather M. smiled and the world was bright again. “You really are going to make a good friend.”

Belladonna beamed back with excitement. Nothing could be as wonderful as Heather’s approval.

“Oh, do you mind grabbing the coin out of the pool for me?” Heather M. asked.

A task that would earn her more approval! “Of course. I’d be happy to,” Belladonna said enthusiastically. This was easy. She’d make sure she was always the coin grabber. If they could trust her, she’d only become better friends with them.

She hurriedly tugged her shoes off and waded out into the pool until she found the coin. Returning it, she placed it into Heather M.’s hand triumphantly.

“We should probably make another wish,” said Heather M. “So no one wonders why Belladonna is suddenly hanging out with the Heathers.”

 

* * *

 

On Monday morning, Sophie paused to examine herself in the mirror for the tenth time before heading to school. The previous afternoon, she and Chloe had made a trip to a secondhand store because she didn’t want to spend her first day of freedom wearing clothes Heather had picked out for her. They didn’t have Heather’s seemingly infinite funds, but they managed to afford enough for Sophie to start to craft her own sense of style and she now stood before the mirror dressed in simple, fitting skinny jeans, a pair of canvas sneakers (which looked markedly better on her smaller feet, she decided), a blue floral top and a cozy grey parka. Letting the Heathers dress her up had been fun at first, but the clothes she had worn at their instruction had always felt performative. There was a comfort now in wearing a more subdued, less attention-grabbing outfit, and knowing that she still looked right to herself.

As she made the walk to school, she wondered if Belladonna would be there. The poor girl might need a day off after her ordeal. Heather M. would be wondering about “Heather K.’s” absence and likely text her. Would Belladonna reply? On the other hand, she had sounded excited to gloat to the Heathers about her freedom, so maybe she would show up after all? Sophie felt a small thrill at the realization that she had no idea what she would be walking into when she arrived at school, but that no matter what, she was safe. Her reflection would stay hers, no matter what.

The one thing she hadn’t expected, however, was Heather M.’s absence from Statistics.

 

* * *

 

On Sunday night, Heather M. had a strange dream. She was standing in the cave beneath the Well. Heather S. was there too, standing at the side of the pool with Heather K. But it was Heather K. as she used to look. All black and green clothing and way too much makeup.

“Here’s the coin,” Heather S. said, removing the coin from her skirt pocket and passing it to Belladonna.

“So, Heather, you thought you were so crafty following us here, did you?” She smirked and turned towards the Well. “Well, you’ll be following us everywhere soon.”

Heather’s stomach clenched up “Wait!” Belladonna looked back towards her, but her grin showed no mercy.

“I wish that Heather McGill wanted nothing more… than to obey every order I give her,” Heather K. proclaimed, and gently tossed the coin into the pool.

Heather awoke late. Why hadn’t her alarm gone off? She felt a surge of anger. She hated when things went wrong and hated it even more when she didn’t have anyone to blame. She was too late to pick up the other Heathers, so she texted them to let them know that they were on their own, then rushed her way through her morning routine. She refused to skimp on her makeup, however, so by the time she made it to her SUV it was already well into first period. That was no problem. Missing one class wasn’t a big deal and she still had Sophie’s punishment to look forward to.

Unfortunately, the SUV wouldn’t start. Heather let out a shout of frustration and hit the steering wheel a few times. She made a mental note to wish that her SUV would never break. Taking a deep breath, she calmed herself, then with no other choice available, set off walking.

Despite the clear morning, clouds gathered overhead with remarkable speed and it suddenly started raining hard. By the time she reached the school’s parking lot she was soaked, shivering, and her makeup ruined. First period was nearly over, but Heather would have just enough time to fix herself up in the bathroom before her second class.

Just as she reached the school’s door her heel broke. She nearly screamed in frustration, but unlike in her car, this was a public place. Years of practice had taught her how to keep herself calm and dignified even in the most frustrating of circumstances. She kept an extra pair of shoes in her locker. None of this was unfixable. Determined not to let this day beat her, she stepped inside.

As the bell rang and the hall began to fill, Heather hurried to her locker to swap out her defective heels. Bare feet on the tile floor, she snatched the shoes from the top shelf of her locker and quickly fastened them around her feet. They felt a little more… snug than she was used to, but they were spares after all. And her feet felt very comfortable! A few sets of eyes followed her as she sauntered into the bathroom. New marks, she decided. Even with ruined makeup, she was still a catch.

Setting up at a sink, she made short work of removing her ruined makeup with a few wipes from her purse and pulled out the essentials she kept on her person. But as she reached for the moisturizer, her hand froze. Was that really what went first? Wasn’t it—

Of course! How could she forget? Her hand shifted towards her lipstick, ruby red as usual, and uncapped it. She drew it across her eyebrows, nodding confidently as her brow became caked with the red wax. After finishing, she wrapped her lips around the stick and moved them around until she was satisfied she’d done a good job. Once she’d applied eyeshadow to her cheeks, blush in circles around her eyes, and mascara to her eyelashes, she scoffed. Why had she brought so many other products if they weren’t needed? Maybe she’d be able to make her bag lighter moving forward. She strode from the bathroom and checked her phone. She’d be a little late to second period, but that wouldn’t matter in the grand scheme of things.

A green blur shifted from the corner of her eye, giggling following it in the distance. She turned and stared down the hallway, but found only more of her classmates checking her out. “Whatever,” she quietly hummed to herself. “Jealousy knows no bounds.”

 

* * *

 

Finally. Finally, Sophie could sit next to Chloe again. It was funny how even though they were dating again and spending plenty of time outside of school together she still felt a glee in getting to spend her next two classes with Chloe.

As she arrived in class, she felt a mischievous impulse and smiled and waved to Heather S., who responded with a confused stare. She supposed that settled one mystery. Belladonna must be taking the day off and hadn’t bothered to tell the Heathers what had happened. Perhaps Heather M. had missed Statistics because she was busy pounding on Belladonna’s door, demanding the coin so that she could punish Sophie. She softly chuckled to herself at the image.

However, despite her earlier confidence, Sophie found herself continuously looking over her shoulder throughout the lecture. Heather M. still scared her. That was still a plain fact. Even if she didn’t have the coin, what if she could somehow dispel the wish with a verbal command? She’d seemed to already have that sort of power when it came to the dance the previous Friday night.

 She knew a confrontation was inevitable—if nothing else, it would certainly happen in Home-ec—but she wanted time to steel herself.

“Hey, are you okay?” Chloe asked, concern on her face.

Sophie tried to smile to show she was okay. “Yeah, just nervous.”

“She can’t hurt you anymore,” Chloe reminded her, and pulled her into a half-hug.

Heather S. remained alone in the corner of the class now that Sophie had returned to her seat with Chloe. Sophie caught her texting quite a bit during class, as did Ms. Francesca. Ultimately, Heather S. only stopped once the teacher had confiscated her phone and shut it securely in her desk. Sophie had the distinct feeling that something was off judging by how frazzled Heather S. looked, but she couldn’t seem to put her finger on it.

She didn’t have much time to dwell on the mystery, unfortunately, as a knock on the door signified a guest in the classroom.

“Oh, Mr. Everson.” Ms. Francesca looked up from the smartboard. “How can I help you?”

A tall, slim and bearded man entered the classroom. “Can I borrow Sophia Swan? We need to clear some stuff up in the office.”

Sophie’s stomach dropped out from under her as Ms. Fancisca nodded. “Fine by me. Sophie, you’re dismissed. Chloe, make sure to pass along the homework, yeah?”

Chloe’s eyes, as well as the rest of the class, were focused on Sophie as she collected her things and followed Mr. Everson from the room. What did he mean by “clearing stuff up”? Was it her records, or something else? Her breaths became quick and hollow as she rounded the corner to the office.

 

* * *

 

One-hundred and twenty-six wishes earlier, as she sat in Heather M.’s room, looking up at her companions sitting on the bed while they contemplated what to do with her, the newly-renamed Heather Kowalski tried to make sense of what had happened to her.

It occurred to her that the wish had worked. It was the only way she could reconcile her love for the Heathers with her memories of years of feuds, pranks, and social sabotage. Considering the phrasing of the wish, she realized that only one thing about her had truly been changed. She now wanted nothing more than to be the Heathers’ friend. However, while that desire was at the forefront of her mind, it wasn’t alone. Every instinct she had screamed at her that she had been brainwashed.

“This is wrong,” she blurted suddenly, breaking the silence. “I-I’m not… I’m not supposed to be…” Her voice fell to a whisper. “Like this.”

Terror filled her as she hugged herself, rubbing her hands up and down along her upper arms. She should get away, right? Somewhere where she could clear her head, put the Heathers out of her mind for a moment, and figure out what to do. Maybe if she ran away from them — maybe if she could keep from hearing them, she’d get to keep being herself. She’d be safe then, right?

Before she could stand, Heather S. slid down from the bed to lean close to her. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. We’re going to take care of you.”

The words were a glimmer of hope. The Heathers would take care of her. They would make sure everything was okay. Except, was that really her thought or was it a result of the wish? She squeezed her arms, whimpering.

Heather S. turned to look at Heather M. “I’m starting to feel a little bad about this. It’s kind of messed up.”

Heather M. looked down at Heather K., face filled with concern. “Do you want us to undo the wish?”

Heather K. nodded without hesitation. She was afraid that if she thought about it, she would change her mind.

“Why?”

Heather K. winced at the question, but she pushed forward. “Because I’m an individual. I’m my own person. I don’t want other people to control who I am.”

Heather M. gave a small, thoughtful “Hmm” as she considered this.

Then she smirked. “But other people do control who you are, don’t they?” She stood and began pacing the room as she continued. “Sure, you pretend to be all edgy and non-conformist, but you know as well as I do that everything about you, every thought in your head, comes from someone else. Your parents, your friends, even the teachers and the bullies and Heather and I. By rebelling against what you call ‘normal’, you’re still allowing it to influence you. How is this any different?”

Heather K. gaped at Heather M. “Because it’s mind control.”

Heather M. halted her pacing and sat down next to Heather S. “But that doesn’t really answer my question, does it? Advertisements are mind control, too, after all. You wrote a whole essay about it in Composition last year. So are those movies you watch and those comics you read about dreams and birds and serial killers. I know you better than you think, Heather. You worry about that kind of thing much more than most people. So if anyone can tell me, it would be you. How is this different?”

Heather K. squeezed her eyes shut. It was different. She was sure of it. There was a line somewhere between the ordinary influence people exerted over each other and what Heather M. had done but... where was it exactly? What made the thoughts she was having now less her than the ones she had on any other day?

Finally, after a long pause, she had to admit it. “I… I don’t know.”

“It sounds exhausting, worrying about something like that all the time,” Heather S. said quietly.

Heather K. opened her eyes to give Heather S. a pleading look “How do you deal with it? How do you not constantly worry whether your thoughts are your own?”

“I don’t know,” Heather S. admitted. “It’s not like Heather and I are unthinking rule followers. We’ve had detention for breaking the dress code just as often as you have. So I don’t see a need to wonder where my thoughts come from. I just look at what’s around me and think about what feels right and focus on what's most important to me.”

Heather K. hesitated. “But what’s most important to me right now is something you put in my head.”

“You heard what she said,” Heather M. said confidently. “She doesn’t spend all her time worrying about where she gets her thoughts. She just worries about what’s most important.”

Heather K. considered this. It would be easier, wouldn’t it? Not stressing about why she felt the way she felt and just doing what she really wanted to do. However, something about it still felt wrong. She scrunched her face as she thought carefully. Heather S. had said that she focused on what was most important to her. That made sense. And since it came from someone as wonderful as Heather, it had to be right.

So what was most important? The unsettling feeling that this was wrong or the desire to be the Heathers’ friend? The phrasing of the wish only really left one option, but she decided to think it through anyway. She imagined asking the Heathers to undo the wish. Heather M. might be disappointed. Heather S. would certainly feel guilty about what they had done. Neither of those thoughts sat well with her. Was it really worth causing them trouble just to satisfy some half-baked theory about “free will”? So instead, she imagined forgetting about how she used to think and embracing her newfound desire to be the Heathers’ friend. Back at the Well, in the immediate wake of the wish and before she had given it any thought, the smiles on the Heathers’ faces had been rapturous. Was it really worth giving up that feeling over some imagined concept of “identity”?

The doubt melted away. Her decision was made.

“I want to be your friend,” she said. The words spilled out of her less like a decision than a plea.

The other Heathers smiled and Heather K. beamed back, exhilarated.

“I’m so glad to hear that, Heather.” Heather M. laid her hand atop Heather K.’s reassuringly. “You’ve made me really happy just now. Like a true friend.”

“Really?” Heather K.’s posture immediately straightened. “I--I did good?”

“Absolutely!” Heather M. nodded. She ran a few fingers playfully through Heather K.’s jet-black hair. “Now, I remember from camp all those years ago that your natural hair color was blonde, right?”

Heather K. fiercely nodded. “Yes, Heather.”

Heather M. shared a veiled smile with Heather S. as they gave a slight nod. “What say we get back to our roots? Wouldn’t that be fun?”

 

* * *

 

Heather M. emerged from her second period in a fit of rage. Some of the other students had laughed, actually laughed, at her. Why? What was so damn funny?! Even the teacher had giggled every time she’d looked at her.

Fine. They wanted to laugh? She’d let them laugh. See how much they’d like a whole day of laughter by the Well’s hands. As she stormed by a mirror, she stopped in her tracks. Something was wrong.

She rushed to the mirror, eyes wide in horror as she found her once-immaculately made-up face mangled beyond belief. Who had done this? She’d been uninterrupted in the bathroom when she’d reapplied— 

That was it. That lapse in memory. When she’d forgotten her routine. It was almost magical. Because it likely was.

Suddenly it hit her. It was Sophie. It had to be. Thinking she had nothing else to lose, the girl must be lashing out. How the hell did she get the coin away from Heather K.? Well, Heather would show her that she had plenty more to lose. She immediately began devising ways to get revenge against Sophie. Just changing her back was no longer enough. With the Well in her control, the possibilities were infinite.

Heather’s teeth were bared as she stomped into the nearby bathroom to remove her horrendously clown-like face paint, giggles following her the whole way. Once she’d removed the last of her makeup, she reentered the hallways and began towards her next class, History. For a brief moment, the crowded hall cleared before her and she thought she caught a glimpse of Heather K. walking in her direction. Just like in the dream, she was dressed as she used to dress, and grinning viciously as she walked towards Heather. Then she disappeared from view as several students crossed between them and by the time the crowd had cleared she was gone. Shaken, Heather told herself that it must have been her imagination.

After all of this frustration, History felt like it would be a relief. Heather could just relax for a while and tune out the teacher’s droning. However, she found herself snapped back to reality when she heard the teacher say the name “Belladonna.”

“...also known as deadly nightshade, was used by Macbeth of Scotland to poison the…”

Scotland? Wasn’t this supposed to be U.S. History? Why was the teacher talking about Scotland?

Heather took a deep breath and tried to calm herself down. It must have just been a coincidence that the teacher had said that word. There had to be some connection between this Scottish poisoner and the United States. This was just a perfectly normal class and there was no possible way Belladonna was back. She’d made sure of it. Heather K. would never allow it.

It suddenly occurred to her that she was holding a pen for some reason. She looked down to discover her notebook, normally unused, laying open on her desk, two lines written in her own handwriting.

No thing in this world, not flora, not fauna

Will help you escape from sweet Belladonna.

She screamed out loud.

 

* * *

 

“This is completely ridiculous,” Sophie cried. She was sitting in the main office, opposite one Josh Hansen, along with Principal Everson, the vice-principal Mrs. Miller, and the school guidance counselor who insisted on being called just “Sarah.”

Principal Everson gestured towards her from behind his desk. “Miss Swan, I’m sure we’d all appreciate it if you calmed down—”

“Calm down?” Sophie stood on her feet and jabbed an accusatory finger at Josh. “He tries to rape me, on school grounds, no less, and you want me to calm down?”

It was Mrs. Miller’s turn to blanch at Sophie’s choice of words. “Now, nobody said rape—”

“I did!” Sophie retorted, “Because that’s what he was trying to do!”

“‘Rape’ is a very powerful word, Sophia,” Sarah began, though Josh interrupted her before she could say anything useful.

“I didn’t rape anybody. She attacked me and locked me in that room.”

Sophie scowled at him, the venom barely contained in her eyes. “You took advantage of me and were trying to undo my dress when I could barely speak! That’s not consent!”

The faculty turned to look first at each other, then at Josh.

“Is this true?” Mr. Everson asked.

“Of course not!” Josh bolted from his chair. “She’s lying about all of it! She knew there were no cameras around, so she’s spinning this sob-story to try to hide the fact that she lured me into the classroom just to lock me in. She certainly seemed perfectly coherent when we were walking together just before.”

Sophie couldn’t believe her ears. Everything he was saying was a lie. Every single part of his story! Worse, she could see in Mr. Everson’s eyes—they were buying it!

Mrs. Miller was stroking at her chin. “The camera did show that Sophia was stumbling on the way to the room.” She turned to Sophie. “Did you drink any of that punch?”

“No!” Sophie exclaimed, nearly at the edge of her wit that the people in the room wouldn’t believe her. If she said she did, they’d probably just write the whole incident as a misunderstanding and let Josh off the hook. “I was having a migraine, and—”

“A migraine?” Mr. Everson asked. “Do you have these often?”

“Only recently,” Sophie responded in a quieter voice than she’d prefer.

“Of course,” Josh mumbled under his breath. “What a coincidence.”

Mr. Everson leaned in. “Do you have any medical documentation of these migraines, Sophie?”

In the moment trailing just after the end of his sentence, something clicked in Sophie’s mind. She didn’t have documentation. What was she supposed to say, her future vision was being overused? No, there was nothing she could say that would sufficiently answer Mr. Everson’s question.

And he knew it. And Josh knew it, too.

He was protecting Josh. Maybe not purposefully, but he was doing more than trying to understand the sequence of events, that much was clear. And with only her testimony and no other evidence beyond the video that showed the two stumbling towards the room, she had no case. Except—

She shifted in her seat, dropping her head so that her chin was angled towards her chest. “I-I was drinking the punch. I do get migraines and--” She looked up, her wide eyes locked on Mr. Everson’s; “and my grandmother can vouch for that, she gets them, too. But… i-it was the punch.” Sophie’s mind was ablaze. She had to make herself cry to sell the sudden shift in story.

Dead puppies, dead puppies, dead Chloe—

Like a switch had been thrown, her eyes were immediately overwhelmed by a torrent of tears. “I-I didn’t want to drink alcohol until I was older! There’s an issue with alcoholism in my family, and I-I’m just so ashamed!”

The room grew deathly quiet as her sobs took up the room. Sarah ran a reassuring hand over Sophie’s back.

“So it was the punch, then,” Mrs. Miller concluded, a hint of sadness in her voice. To his credit, even Josh had quieted down.

“That would explain the stumbling in the video.”

Mr. Everson sat back in his chair. “Well, I think that clears things up. I’d hazard a guess that this was all a misunderstand—”

“Then Josh locked the door with that—that key,” Sophie added, interrupting the principal, “And I got scared. I didn’t know what was going on, and I felt trapped.”

“Key?” Mr. Everson and Mrs. Miller said in unison.

“Yeah.” Sophie sniffled. “There was some key that he pulled out of his pocket. He tried locking the door with it. That’s when I hit him and locked him in. I was so scared he was going to hurt me.”

“She’s lying, she’s the one that had the key,” Josh protested. “The door was unlocked. We found a key in the room, that’s what I already told you guys.” Sophie winced. His voice was starting to become very annoying.

Mrs. Miller looked at Mr. Everson. “Mr. Tillbert always locks his doors. It wouldn’t have been open in the first place.” He picked up the phone on his desk and began to dial into its keypad.

Balance escaped Sophie for a moment, just long enough for her to fall noticeably forward in her chair. The others in the room looked startled.

“Sophie, are you alright?” Sarah asked.

“Y-yeah,” Sophie nodded. “I just haven’t eaten anything today so I’m a little hungry.”

Mrs. Miller rose from her seat and guided Sophie towards the door. “Why don’t you go grab some food in the cafeteria? You don’t look very good.”

She was probably more right about that assertion than Sophie cared to admit. Her insides felt like they were tearing up, it felt like a jackhammer was slamming against her skull.

“Okay.” Sophie stepped outside just as Mr. Everson appeared to reach whoever he was calling. Only two steps were taken before she collapsed against a locker door to her right, sliding down to the floor as pinpricks assaulted every inch of her body.

A mess of images rushed at her. Running through the forest with Chloe, sitting next to Tyler, being engulfed in a bright light. And chaos. Chaos everywhere, swirling around the school, the town, like a giant hurricane. It was all too fast for her to make sense of, let alone try to separate into different paths. She was left with only a sense that something terrible was about to happen. 

Ringing. Endless ringing filled her ears, lasting moments, minutes, before she realized it was her own phone. With shaky hands, she brought it up to her ear.

“...Hello?” she said, her voice a weak croaking mess.

“Sophia.” It was Grams. She sounded nervous. Uncharacteristically afraid. “Did you see that, too?”

Sophie blinked profusely. She hadn't finished seeing whatever it was that had overcome them both. “Yeah… still am.”

There were three figures in the middle of the chaotic whirlwind in Sophie’s mind. And at the very center, at the eye of the storm was… not Heather M.

It was Belladonna.

 

* * *

 

Eighty-one wishes earlier, Heather K. cackled as she read the article Heather S. was showing her on her phone.

“Can you believe that?” Heather S. asked with a laugh. “People actually think girls think like that.”

Heather K. concluded her laugh with a contented sigh. Things couldn’t be better. Sure, there had been some bumps when it came to accepting that their suggested changes to her fashion, but in the end Heather K. had accepted that they knew best, and their feelings were most important, anyway. Silly things like clothes didn’t matter.

However, things couldn’t be better. She really felt like part of the group now, fitting in naturally as they hung out in the home-ec room, laughing with Heather S. about sexist stuff on the Internet. The Heathers were completely different from the image she had previously held of them. They weren’t shallow and vapid, existing for no reason other than to pander to a patriarchal image of what femininity should be. They were complex and multifaceted. Heather S. was interested in geology and old electronics. Heather M. read poetry. The wish was a blessing if only because it had granted Heather K. the opportunity to see just how amazing the Heathers really were.

“Your laugh is so annoying,” Heather M. grumbled.

She was in a bad mood, today. That happened sometimes. Heather K. wasn’t sure why, and she already knew from experience that asking was a bad idea. It was best to just stay out of her way.

“I’m sorry,” she said timidly. “I could try to change my laugh.”

“Do you have to grovel every five minutes?” Heather M. snapped.

“Hey, don’t take it out on Heather just because Tyler was flirting with some girl,”

“It wasn’t just some girl,” Heather M. groaned. “It was Anastasia Wheatley’s mother. Her mother.”

“I guess Stacy’s mom has got it going on,” Heather K. said.

Heather S. burst out laughing and Heather K. felt a rush of excitement, knowing that she had made her laugh. She joined in, carefully holding back her usual laugh so that it became more of a quiet hissing sound. Her joy was short-lived, however, as she soon saw the annoyed glare from Heather M.

“You know, I’m starting to wonder about this whole ‘third Heather’ thing,” Heather M. said coldly.

Heather K. felt terror grip her. Was she going to undo the wish? How could she go back to the way things were after experiencing the wonder of being the Heathers’ friend? Who would she be if the wish were undone? She tried to think of something to say, some way to plead with Heather, but what words could express how badly she wanted to stay the way she was?

“You’re worried that what we did was wrong?” Heather S. asked.

Heather M. cocked her head. “What? No. She’s just annoying and embarrassing.”

“Really?” Heather S. said. “I like her. She’s sweet and adorable. I know I was worried that what we did was wrong, but she really seems happier this way.”

Heather K. grinned to illustrate how happy she was.

Heather M. gestured at her. “Just look at her. She doesn’t know how to act around other people. She has no sense of mystique or dignity or subtlety.”

Heather K.’s smile fell away, replaced by fear. This was it, wasn’t it? She was a complete failure. How was she so bad at being the type of person the Heathers wanted her to be?

“Well, have you tried telling her how to behave?” Heather S. suggested. “She’s a good listener and she loves doing favors.”

Heather M. gave her a long look as she considered this.

“You’ll listen to what I say and behave the way I tell you to behave?” she asked, finally.

“Of course!” Heather K. blurted. “Whatever you want.”

“Raise your right hand,” Heather M. ordered.

Heather K. eagerly raised her hand.

“Bark like a dog,” Heather M. ordered.

“Don’t make her bark like a dog,” Heather S. groaned.

“You said you wanted me to stay dignified, right?” Heather K. was unable to keep the tension from her voice as she nervously eyed the students still in the midst of class.

“I did, but now I want you to do as I say,” Heather M. explained. “It’ll make me happy if you do.”

Heather K. let out a couple of loud barks.

Heather M. smiled. “Okay, I think I can work with her.”

Heather K. grinned. Things couldn’t be better.

* * *

 

Sophie stumbled into the cafeteria. The familiar crowd was, perhaps for the first time, a comfort, since it meant she could blend in and avoid the Heathers’ notice. She couldn’t deal with them right now. Despite Mrs. Miller’s orders, she wasn’t here for food. 

“I thought you told me that well had been sealed? The last coin thrown in?” Grams demanded over the phone. She was loud enough that several students shot Sophie weird looks as she passed.

“I thought it had!” Sophie replied. “At least, that’s what Belladonna told me.”

“The girl who was brainwashed, yes?”

Sophie hesitated to answer. “Yeah.”

There was a sharp intake of air over the receiver. “Well, I don’t need to lecture you. You can feel it, can’t you?”

“Yeah.” Sophie’s hair was standing on-end. The pin-pricks weren’t as strong, but she could still feel them, even now. Something very bad was about to happen.

“Find her,” Grams commanded. “Find that girl before it’s too late. She’s bound to have made an assortment of wishes already, and wishes colliding with other wishes will only end poorly.”

“R-right.” Sophie attempted a surreptitious glance at the Heathers’ table. Heather M. was looking frazzled. She was gesturing wildly as she said something to Heather S., who just looked confused. Heather M. was wearing… old, ratty tennis shoes? And her face was devoid of make-up and hair a mess. It was almost like looking at an entirely different person. 

She’d stared too long, Heather M. tore her attention from Heather S. and glared at—no, through her.

Sophie gripped the phone tightly. “Uh… Grams? I gotta go.” 

“You!” Heather M. screeched across the multitude of tables separating the two of them.  “What did you DO?!”

Before Sophie could think of a response, everyone in the cafeteria stood at the same time, falling silent. Sophie immediately winced, thinking Heather M. must be behind this, but she was looking around, her expression just as shocked as Sophie’s. Aside from her, those two seemed to be the only people who hadn’t stood.

In an instant, the answer hit her. Of course it wasn’t the Heathers. They didn’t have the coin anymore. But not had the coin been lost. The suspicion that had been blossoming was only proving more and more true. Panic began to rise. This was supposed to be over. Why wasn’t this over?

Moving stiffly, as if in a trance, Tyler stepped up onto the table, one foot landing in Heather M.’s tray. The rest of the cafeteria turned to look at him.

“Announcing the return of our school’s dark ruler!” he called out in a reverential and slightly robotic voice. “Everyone bow before Belladonna Kowalski!”

He gestured to a set of doors, which flew open revealing Belladonna. She was looking much more like she had in her parents' photos, dressed in a black-and-green dress and strap-covered boots. She had dyed her hair black with a green streak and stains from the dye could still be seen along her hairline. Her dark eyeshadow made her eyes look huge and bright. Sophie felt a mixture of anger and terror. How could Belladonna have lied to her after she had helped her? What was she planning to do?

All of the standing students bowed as Belladonna entered. Sophie shuddered at this twisted display of the Well’s power and wondered why she had been spared. Perhaps Belladonna felt some form of gratitude. Either way, she was as helpless as any of the other students as she watched the scene play out.

“You,” Heather M. growled.

Belladonna muffled a giggle as she hopped up onto the table, replacing Tyler. “Me.”

“Isn’t this a bit much, Belladonna?” Heather M. asked. She had regained a measure of her composure, but it was easy to see the fear on her face and hear the quaver in her voice. “All the little pranks were one thing, but this?” She gestured around her. “It’s far too theatrical, even for you.”

“Oh, but I had to have an audience,” Belladonna replied as she made her way to Heather’s table. “Don’t worry. They can’t move right now, but they’re hearing all of this and they’ll remember everything you confess.”

“Confess?” Heather asked incredulously. “Are you planning to torture me or something?” 

Belladonna held out her hands in an exaggerated shrug. “Torture? Why bother? I simply have to ask and you’ll spill all your embarrassing secrets.”

She snapped her fingers. Heather M. jerked into a standing position. “I once farted really loudly in the middle of class,” she called out, eyes wide with helpless embarrassment as her face quickly reddened. “Everyone thought it was that weird Ryan guy, but it was me.”

There was a moment of silence just long enough for the secondhand embarrassment from Heather’s loud confession to set in. Then Belladonna began to laugh.

“Okay. Not sure what I expected,” she wiped a stray tear from her eye, “but that was pretty good. But we’re not here just to humiliate you. We have far more important things to do. I want everyone in this room to know what you’ve done to them. You’re going to list off every single wish you’ve made, along with every single person you’ve hurt with that Well.”

She snapped her fingers again. Once again moving in a jerking, involuntary way, Heather got down on all fours. She began to bark like a dog.

“Oh, oops, I’m doing this in the wrong order,” Belladonna said with a chuckle. She looked around the statue-filled room. “You ever in class and the teacher accidentally skips ahead on the Powerpoint? This is kind of like that. I should have written myself a script. Or flashcards with, like, bullet points. Now let me try that again.”

She snapped her fingers. Heather M. once again stood stiffly. In seemingly no order, she began listing wishes. Not just ones she had made, but ones Heather S. and Belladonna had made, as well. Sophie caught the wish to transform her somewhere in the deluge, as well as her own wish to be recognized as Sophie. She wondered if people would be angry with her over that. Perhaps she deserved it, but it was nothing compared to the cruelties Heather had enacted. Sophie recognized the wishes Chloe had discovered, but there were so many more. Personalities altered, memories changed, ages inverted, people made to break up with or forget about their significant others and turn against their friends, people made to gain weight, lose hair, or develop acne. It seemed that there wasn’t a single person at the school who had gone unaffected. The crowd of students remained as silent as ever, but there was no question that they would be furious when whatever hold Belladonna had over them was released.

When she was finished, Heather M. cut off with a gasp.

“There you have it,” Belladonna announced to the crowd. “Pretty bad, right? I mean, that took almost the entire period. So I guess you all aren’t going to have time to eat today. Sorry about that.” She picked up an apple and tossed it to Heather S. “Here, Heather. Make sure to stick to that dip-shit diet plan you told us all about.

Heather S. squeaked as the apple bounced off her head and landed on the floor.

“Oh, but you’re probably confused about how she did it.” Belladonna paused briefly, mumbling to herself. “Should have explained that earlier. Definitely should have made flashcards.” She raised her voice again. “It was a wishing well. A literal wishing well. Toss a special coin in and alter reality.” The room remained quiet, though it seemed like Sophie, Belladonna and the Heathers were the only ones who could speak freely. “You probably want proof, I imagine?”

She spun towards Heather M. “Go on. Give me another one.”

Heather M.’s whole body stiffened. “I wet my bed until I was thirteen!”

Belladonna snapped at Heather S. “You too, kiddo.”

“It’s true!” she replied. “She wet my bed during a sleepover once and blamed it on me and my mom was really weird about it for a month and—”

 “Stop!” Belladonna roared, caught off guard by a fit of giggles. “Please, I can’t take any more.” She hopped from the table and stood between the two girls. “So, yeah, magic’s real. Too bad it was taken advantage of by a self-centered, narcissistic bitch. Ain’t that how it goes? But don’t worry, that’s all over now.”

She gestured to Heather S., who still hadn’t left her seat at the table, probably out of fear or a hope that she might be spared. During the moments between Heather M.’s confession and Heather S.’ outburst, she had begun to weep softly. “And I’ve got something more for you. Because the other Heather is tied up in all this, too. Granted, she’s more of a spineless follower than an active participant, but that doesn’t absolve her of guilt. Not spineless like I was. No, she was always a coward. She didn’t need magic to will that character flaw into existence. I didn’t even have to use magic on her for that confession!”

“You what?!” Heather M. shouted.

“Please, Heather, you don’t have to do this,” Heather S. sobbed.

“It’s Belladonna!” Belladonna screamed, face twisted with rage. The sudden sharp noise pierced through the room, making the silence that followed seem even deeper.

Belladonna took a deep breath and regained her composure. “Heather Sinclaire, it truly is time to deliver your confession.”

She snapped her fingers. Heather S. stood suddenly. “I helped Heather do all of those horrible things to all of you, including making several wishes on her behalf. I also made several designed only to benefit myself. I had the coin unmonitored for several long periods of time, during which I could have undone any of her other wishes. However, I was too selfish. We brainwashed Belladonna, didn’t tell Tyler about the Well, and hid the worst of our actions from Sophie, and later threatened her when she found out. All three of them are innocent.”

“Well, ‘innocent’ might be a strong word for Tyler, but at any rate, he has nothing to do with this wish stuff, aside from unknowingly reaping a few benefits,” Belladonna added. She turned towards him. “By the way, bud, you really lucked out that I regained control when I did. I don’t know how you feel about the name ‘Taylor’, but let's just say there’s a whole notebook at Heather McGill’s house dedicated to a manic pixie dream girl version of you.”

Tyler’s face turned an immediate shade of red as other football players eyed him suspiciously, as much as they could in their frozen state.

“Is that it?” Heather M. asked, her voice tired. “Are you finally done with your little tantrum?”

Belladonna frowned. “I dunno. From here I was planning to systematically undo every wish you’d made.” She held up her phone. “I recorded that whole thing just to make sure I got them all. But it just doesn’t feel like enough. What you did to me was so horrible. Even with all of my creativity, how could I ever come up with a revenge that will satisfy me?”

To Sophie’s surprise, Heather M. laughed. “It’s because you don’t want to admit to yourself how easy it was to take control of you. How much you liked being our friend.”

Belladonna's face turned vicious, her eyes wide in a half-crazed expression. “I only liked it because you forced me to. And even then, you couldn’t completely make me forget who I was. I tried to warn Sophie about you, and—” She held up a hand, showing off her black nail polish. “—I had other little ways of fighting back.”

Heather M. smirked. “Oh, that? Did you really think I didn’t notice? I let you keep them that way because I thought it was funny seeing that last pathetic little sign of who you really were. I figured I’d take it away at some point. Make you switch to a different color. Maybe… pink.”

Belladonna’s face began to turn red. “You...you…” she began, but quickly switched to an incoherent scream of frustration.

“You bitch!” She closed the distance between herself and Heather M. and punched her in the face with a sickening sound of flesh on flesh. Heather let out a grunt of pain, but remained standing. It seemed that Belladonna’s physical weakness was not a product of Heather’s manipulation.

“No, this isn’t enough,” Belladonna muttered. “It’s not even close to enough.” She took in a breath and let it out in a sharp hiss. “I am going to keep coming up with tortures for you two until you never think of manipulating, controlling, or hurting another person. Come along, we’re starting now.”

The two Heathers automatically began to follow her, their movements stiff as they made their way to the exit.

“No!” Belladonna swiveled towards Heather M. “Now you bark.” She snapped her fingers again. Heather M. dropped onto all fours and began to bark incoherently as they continued towards the doors.

“Wait, Belladonna!” Sophie called, finally finding her voice.

Belladonna turned on her heel to address Sophie. “Don’t give me any empty platitudes. ‘They aren’t worth it. You’ll be just as bad as them.’ You have no idea what I went through. At least you got to be you.”

She turned without waiting for a response and walked through the door, leaving Sophie alone with the frozen students. A moment later, the bell rang and, like a held breath being exhaled, everyone began to move.

They murmured to each other, horrified by the various ways their lives had been manipulated. A few people wept. More began panicking loudly. Tyler stood off to the side, mouth agape as he tried to process what had just happened.

Sophie began to move toward the door. Someone called out her name, probably wanting more information since her involvement had been revealed, but she ignored them. She had to find Chloe now.