Disclaimer: I don't own it. If I did we would all be enjoying season 6 right now. I do however own the DVDs and the soundtrack. The title comes from the song She by Green Day


You walk by her in the hallway the Monday after Shelley Pomroy's party. She's standing by her locker staring at the word 'slut' written in black sharpie. You walk so close that you knock her sideways right into it. When she looks up you see heartbreak in her eyes, and you almost feel bad but then you shake it off, calling out, "Sorry, I assumed that you would be used to random guys banging you against a locker." You hear the laughing approval of your classmates as they quickly throw out their own insults. As twisted as it is, hurting her is cathartic. The only way to alleviate an ounce of your own sorrow. You turn away and continue down the hall. You aren't thinking about how impossibly tiny and broken she looked surrounded by people who hate her. You aren't thinking this because you don't care.

You know she has third period free. It was an important thing to know back in September, and now you can't forget. Of course your own third period is located right across the hall from the locker she's furiously scrubbing, and of course the door to your classroom is open. Not hurting her would just be a wasted opportunity.

"I know it's your go-to solution but in this case rubbing something as hard as you can will not yield results!" You see her tense but she says nothing, just continues as if she hasn't heard you. This does not satisfy you like it should and you find yourself wishing that she'd fight back. Not because you care (you don't) but because you think it would add an interesting angle to this game you're playing. Tormenting someone is only fun for so long. But fighting? Fighting never gets old. You decide then and there that you must trick her into thinking someone cares (you certainly don't). Just thinking that one person might be on her side will give all the confidence she needs to become a worthy opponent.

During your own off period you go to a computer lab and type up a note.

You've got to toughen up Mars. If you don't they will completely destroy you. Grow a spine or you're not making it to graduation. It's time to tell the world that you're Veronica fucking Mars and you're not going to take it anymore.

You slide it into her locker as if it's just another piece of paper calling her bitch, whore, or liar. You hope that she will do as the note tells her because maybe you're starting to care a fraction of a percents worth and if she'll just fight back, you can go back to hurting her and feeling nothing. You think about sticking around after school to watch her read it but you don't care so you go to the parking lot and slash her tires instead. You do stick around to watch her find that message. When you hear her swear and see her toss her purse angrily into the backseat you smile. Tomorrow will be a better day.

On Tuesday you hardly recognize her. New clothes, new hair, new attitude. She doesn't even look at Duncan when he walks by her, she ignores every whisper, every rumor; and at lunch she "accidently" trips, spilling Coke all over Madison Sinclair's favorite top. But the best part of her transformation is the way she treats you. For every insult you hurl at her she has a comeback. They aren't all good (they'll get better, this you know for sure), but the important thing is she's fighting back. And you've never been so damn proud of anyone.

(Years later you will tell her that you wrote the note, and you will concede that, yeah, okay, maybe you cared more than you thought you did. She will smile, and you will wonder for the millionth time why you ever needed to hurt her).

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