Toil & Trouble: A Know Not Why Halloween (Mis)adventure by Hannah Johnson

inspire in those little weirdos.”
     
    “Ew!” Kristy cries. “Ew, ew, ew, ew.”
     
    “Sorry,” Cora says through her very fiendish
laughter.
     
    “ Ew ,” Kristy says firmly.
     
    “You know what,” Cora says, sobering, “if you want to
see a real ho in bandages, you should swing by my play rehearsal
tonight. I promise, Dr. Frankenbitch will be in fine and skanky
form.”
     
    “Wouldn’t you be Dr. Frankenbitch?” Kristy
points out. “Since she’s the monster ...”
     
    “I’m surrounded by a bunch of nerds,” Cora
mutters.
     
    “I think you’re exaggerating how bad she is,” Kristy
declares. “I went to her for a haircut once, and she did a really
good job. And she talked to me the whole time! She was nice.”
     
    “Yeah, but everyone’s nice to you. That doesn’t mean
anything. She sucks. She’s always all in my face with her stupid
peach lipgloss and her horrible everything.”
     
    “No one who wears peach lipgloss can be that bad,”
Kristy protests, like that’s actually somehow a proven fact.
     
    “Dude, she is. I promise. I know what girls like her
are like.”
     
    “Really? She doesn’t seem like the type you’d hang
out with.”
     
    “It wasn’t so much hanging out as it was getting the
shit bullied out of me,” Cora says. A flicker of something sad and
vulnerable darts across her face.
     
    Kristy’s heart flops. “Aw, Cora.”
     
    “Whatever. I promise you, I so do not care anymore.
Who’s happy in middle school, anyway?”
     
    Kristy was, but it doesn’t seem tactful to mention
it.
     
    “I’ll drop by tonight,” Kristy says. “But if she’s
not as awful as you’ve said, then you have to promise to stop
hating her so much.”
     
    “Yeah, no, cannot do. The iron has entered into my
soul, Diana.”
     
    “Okay, Anne. Then at least will you promise to stop
being so mean to her? You said this was her first play ever, right?
There’s no way she’s not totally intimidated by you.”
     
    Cora scoffs. “I don’t think she gets intimidated. She
has a serious case of smug hot girl face. Only Natalie Dormer is
allowed to look that haughty about a secret and still deserve my
love.”
     
    “So you’re judging her by how she looks,” Kristy
says, crossing her arms.
     
    “It’s okay to do that if you’re judging them for
being hot,” Cora protests.
     
    “Cora, come on. Resting bitch face is a real thing!
Just look at how much Kristen Stewart has suffered for it!”
     
    “I guess,” Cora says grumpily.
     
    “Everybody gets intimidated,” Kristy says. “I
remember what it was like back before I convinced you to like me.
Being on your bad side is scary.”
     
    Cora leans over to give her a one-armed hug. “I
didn’t expect you to be so nice. People as pretty as you are
usually total jerkwads. I’m sorry.”
     
    “I know you are, and it’s okay.” Kristy pats her
curly head. “But I’m just saying. You gave me a chance. Maybe you
should try it again for her.”
     
    “There’s no way she’s as great as you,” Cora
insists.
     
    “You never know!” Kristy encourages.
     
    “She’s not!” Cora declares, pressing sloppy,
super-dramatic kisses to her cheek. “It’s not possible!”
     
    “Aw!” says Kristy, and for the first time in awhile
smiling is easy.
     
     
    +
     
     
    At rehearsal that night, Kristy and Cora hang out
behind the curtains, eating Halloween-sized bags of Skittles and
watching Heather get her Frankenstein’s Monster on onstage.
     
    Somehow, all of the pornographic mediocrity that’s
been driving Cora so nuts doesn’t really seem to be there tonight. Sure, Heather is way better at wearing an outfit of
strategically placed bandages than anybody should be, but there is something sort of raw and anguished about her. Something
kind of authentic.
     
    “She’s really good and I’m being queen of the
butthead assholes, huh?” Cora says.
     
    Kristy pats her arm reassuringly. “Pretty much.”
     
    Cora