It was October first, and the bell had not yet rung for first period yet. Carrie was at her locker taking stock of which books she would need before lunch. She felt a tap on her shoulder and nearly threw her armful of textbooks across the hall as she whipped around to face her assailant. When she looked, standing before her was a bald head painted black and white with skeletal makeup, eyes wide and mouth agape.
The skeleton relaxed and let out a heavy sigh. "Virgin Mary on a Vespa, Carrie. I almost died." She laughed a bit and then gave another sigh, this time less heavy. "So, happy Halloween first," she said, pointing to her makeup. "What do you think?"
Carrie looked confused. "Halloween's a month away."
"Well, it was yesterday, but not today," said Jerry, just shy of shouting. "Nope. Today is the start of Halloween season, and to celebrate, I'm going to wear this shit all day until someone holds me down and scrubs it off me themselves."
"Okay," replied Carrie, shrugging.
"What's wrong," asked Jerry, sensing her lack of enthusiasm. "Does it look bad or something? Like, I got a second opinion from my mom. It shouldn't be lopsided or anything."
Carrie shook her head. "No, it's not that. It's just that you're gonna get yelled at. That's all."
"Well, I'll take it off then, but I want to wear it as long as they let me. I love Halloween, and I'm not wasting a single opportunity to be festive."
Some girls passed them in the hall and giggled. Carrie could just make out the shadows of a snide remark, and she looked down.
"You sure that was it," asked Jerry.
"Huh," said Carrie, looking back up.
"You're super weepy. Seriously, what's wrong?"
"Nothing."
Jerry persisted. "Bull shit. What is it? You embarrassed?"
She shook her head.
"Did someone bother you before I got here?"
She shook her head again. "No," she said, and then paused for a moment. She was trying speak through the pranks. Every year, as soon as the leaves started to turn, everyone would get a burst of creativity that would be channeled into new mischief. Her house would be covered in eggs, toilet paper, and pumpkin guts from now until November. Spray paint if they were particularly bold. And Mama. She'd settle into a foul mood that would last until the last of the refuse had been thrown and meticulously cleaned from the siding.
She would have a special sermon for Carrie on Halloween. And for any trick-or-treaters foolish enough to come to the house, she's had her tracts, written especially for the holiday, about how Halloween is satanic and children that trick-or-treat go to Hell.
She blinked hard and coughed. "I just don't like Halloween very much," she said.
"Awe, that's too bad. You're gonna find me real annoying then, because I don't shut up about it."
Carrie tried to tell her it was alright, but the bell drowned her out.
"See you in a bit," said Jerry, as she disappeared into the roiling mass of students. Carrie nodded and hurried to her class.
At second period, she arrived to see Jerry sitting despondently in her corner, face as clean as the freshly washed chalkboard. She frowned deeply, and without looking up, she said, "Bunch of bah-humbugs didn't even let me get through history." She looked up dramatically. "They have no Halloween spirit," she said.
There was a bit of black makeup left around her ear. Carrie fixated on it, trying hard not to make it obvious.
"Should have known, I guess," said Jerry, slumping back in her seat. "Not like you didn't warn me." She leaned back in her chair until the front legs came off the floor. "So, you're not doing anything for Halloween, are you?"
She remembered the sermon. "Nope," she said. "Not a thing. Mama wouldn't let me."
"Why not," asked Jerry, tilting back a little farther, making Carrie nervous.
"She doesn't like Halloween either. Says it's Satan's holiday."
"Ah," said Jerry, nodding. "So I take it she wouldn't let you come hang out with me that day then."
"Probably not," she replied. The chair tilted even further.
"Well, if she eases up any, I want you to know that my mom and I always have a little party on Halloween. You're invited, but it's okay if you don't want to come. I understand."
"Thanks," said Carrie.
Jerry's feet left the floor, and she began to tumble backwards, but before she could throw up her arms in surprise, the chair snapped forward again, throwing her against her desk. "Fuck," whispered Jerry as she got her bearings.
Rossbeck sat up. "What was that," she bellowed.
Jerry thought for a moment, then replied. "Almost dropped my book."
The teacher frowned. "Well, be more careful," she said, turning her attention back to her paperwork.
The two were quiet for a moment.
"That was weird," said Jerry.
"Lucky you didn't fall," said Carry, wondering if this had been one of those moments, whether she'd done something.
"No shit," she said, chuckling a bit. "I never get that lucky."
"Anyway," said Carrie, "Thanks for the invitation. I won't be able to go, but thanks anyway."
"No problem," said Jerry, smiling.
"Also," she continued, "I thought your costume looked good this morning. You looked just like a real skeleton."
"No kidding," she said, her smile turning into a grin that took up her whole face. "I've been practicing that makeup for years. I'm glad it came out decent for once." She leaned back with pride, stretching her arms over her head.
Carrie tensed up again. "Um, Jerry," she said, pointing to the front two legs of the chair. "Don't do that."
Jerry laughed and pulled herself back upright.