The Mendacity of Winnie Hart

Chapter Ten

The dreaded day had finally arrived.

Halloween.

The opening song to The Nightmare Before Christmas was blasting through the speakers of Wren's car which she had (unfortunately) gotten fixed yesterday. 'Fixed' was a generous term, as it still made odd sounds every now and then, but at least is started.

"Who's ready to party?!" Wren yelled out the window as we whizzed by various people on the street.

"Put your window up, it's freezing out," I grumbled, in a sour mood from the idea of having to socialize with other people tonight.

"Okay, grandma." She began cranking the hand lever to put the window up, swerving on the road as she did so.

"Y'know what? Leave it, it's fine," I said, grabbing onto the roof handlebar for dear life.

"Dramatic ass."

Wren was being entirely too secretive about the plans for tonight, something she knew I detested. I didn't know where the party would be held, who would be there, or even what the hell we were going to be wearing. The fact that I would be at a party on a Wednesday night was a ludicrous thought in itself. I'd never been to a party before, so I didn't entirely know what to expect. The only picture I could paint in my head was filled with red solo cups and alcohol. I didn't really have any interest in alcohol. Wren, on the other hand, was much to excited to indulge.

We got to Wren's house after some slightly reckless driving unscathed. The gravel on her driveway crunched under my feet as I got out of the Beatle. A blast of pumpkin-scented candles hit me as we entered her abode.

"Wait until I show you my costume!"

Wren bounded up the stairs ahead of me, expelling energy she said she was supposed to be saving for tonight.

To say Wren went to dozens of parties would be a lie, but she's been to her fair share. Each one managed to rile up the same level of excitement as the previous, even though her and I both knew the chances of her waking up with a mega hangover were large. She claimed it was worth it, but I don't see how the could possibly be the case.

Being around sweaty teenagers all night and then waking up vomiting all over your once clean bathroom?

Not the life for me. Maybe it was fine for others, but not me.

When I walked into Wrens room, I was not prepared for the sight that was about to greet my eyes.

"What the hell is that?" I asked, staring at her bed in horror.

"Oops, not that," Wren said, grabbing the gigantic cardboard cutout of Lin-Manuel Miranda off of her bed to reveal a mass of clothing underneath.

I looked at her for a second before reaching for the cardboard cutout. "No, I think we should revisit this."

Wren threw it aside. "Look at my costume!"

"What is it?"

She rolled her eyes, and walked over to her bed to hold up the garment to me. It was a fuzzy dress, with think black and yellow running horizontally across it. On the bed sat a small pair of wings, and a headband with little antennas on top of it.

"It's a bee!"

"That's cute, but are we just going to forget about Mr. Miranda over there?" I asked, pointing to the corner where he now lay.

"Here's what I was thinking," she started, brushing aside my comment about the strange object once again. "Since you didn't bother to come up with any kind of idea for yourself, you can be something that fits you perfectly!"