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When Cordelia finally agreed to take her students to the Halloween festival on the outskirts of town, she expected the night to be fairly straightforward. She imagined cobblestone streets lined with elaborately carved pumpkins, the smell of popcorn and candy apples sweetening the air, and themed decoration painting the district in spooky brushstrokes, immersing all of them in the holiday spirit.
What she did not imagine was being dared to enter a haunted house.
"I dare you," Madison had said. Cordelia narrowed her eyes at the challenge, mouth pressed into a thin line to hide her displeasure.
"What are you, five?" Zoe asked.
Attune to the growing tension, Mallory laid a hand on Cordelia's bicep. "You don't have to, Miss Goode. It's not a huge deal."
"Oh, she definitely doesn't have to, but if she doesn't, she's kind of chicken shit." Madison cocked her hip, one hand resting on the protruding curve. "I double dog dare you."
There were several snickers and a collective 'oooh' from the circle of girls. Cordelia felt her jaw tighten and her spine stiffen. She breathed deeply to control her internal unrest, a coping mechanism she had learned in her time as a Headmistress, used when her problem children tested her. Lock down the senses, and never let them see her sweat. It worked well, for the most part, unless it was Madison she was up against.
"Girl, you can't be serious." Queenie crossed her arms, glaring at Madison. "Don't listen to her, Cordelia. She's being a child."
"I agree," Zoe said. "And not everyone enjoys being scared. It doesn't mean you're any better or worse than us." Cordelia offered her a nod, grateful for the support.
Madison wasn't deterred, however. She examined her manicure with an aloof expression. "Chicken shit," she muttered.
"That's enough," Cordelia snapped, her tone slicing through the thickened air with the sharpness of a new razor blade. Madison quirked a brow, almost amused at how simple it had been to evoke a reaction from her teacher.
"I triple. Dog. Dare you," she said. Each word was punctuated with a step forward as her heels clacked against the concrete of the house's porch.
The involved portion of their group erupted into gasps, laughs, and shared whispers. Cordelia squeezed her eyes shut, searching for the strength to remain calm and combat Madison with the level of grace expected of her. What she really wanted, was to smack the shit out of her.
"Come on, Cordy. Grow a spine." Madison whispered, as if her volume matter. Everyone knew of the battle that was taking place between them. "You aren't afraid of a little old house, are you?
An unwanted sense of humiliation began to nauseate Cordelia. She tried to push it down, but it crept up, up, up until she couldn't handle it. Madison had shoved her around and belittled her for too long. She was no coward, and if this was how she had to prove it, then consider her willing.
"Madison!" Zoe warned. Cordelia held up a hand. The group fell silent, overtaken by mingling chatter and piercing screams of the festival goers around them.
"I would love to join you all." When Cordelia smiled at her, it was devoid of all pleasure.
"Oh, this is going to be rich." Madison flashed a shit-eating grin, the extra show of teeth reminding Cordelia of a lion about to pounce. She pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head and walked to the entrance of the house. "Let's go, ladies!"
Most of the girls formed a line behind Madison, shuffling after her into the darkness. Queenie gave her a sympathetic grimace before catching up with the group. Zoe and Mallory lingered behind.
"Are you sure about this?" Mallory asked. "You really don't have to."
"Yeah," Zoe said. "Fuck Madison. She's just being a bitch."
Cordelia chose to ignore the insult of Zoe's fellow peer, because, it was deserved.
"I know. Thank you, girls," she said, pulling them closer with an arm wrapped around each shoulder. "I want to do it— it might be fun."
Her students exchanged worried and disbelieving looks, but comment further.
"We'll stick by you," Zoe said.
Mallory nodded. "Stronger together."
"Strong together," Cordelia agreed, more so to convince herself that she could handle the impending scares. She much preferred the controlled environment of her couch, where the horrors could be averted in one press of the television remote but she was confident she could pull through.
With her final confirmation, all three of them shuffled into the unknown, taking their position at the back of the long line of Robichaux girls.
True to their word, Zoe and Mallory bordered Cordelia on either side as they navigated through candelabra lit hallways covered in cobwebs. There were obstacles at every turn, physical barriers and scares alike, but nothing stopped their tiny but mighty group. They weaved through as a single, well-oiled machine.
Their journey through the house carried them from room to room, each themed something as equally dread-filled as the last. A butcher's freezer, a medical lab used for inhumane experiments, an insane asylum, a vampire's lair. The scares were cheap but effective. Most of the horror relied on people jumping out of hidden pathways shrieking loudly or wielding weapons that would had killed them, if they weren't props.
Despite her initial hesitance, Cordelia found herself actually having an enjoyable time, as odd as it sounded to her own rationale. The adrenaline had truly taken over her body. Her heart raced at the prospect of "danger" lurking not a few feet away and her skin buzzed, an enhanced recognition of what it meant to feel alive.
Scare by scare, she allowed her protective walls to recede as she was immersed into the universe they had been transported to. Their screams of terror would often turn into gasping laughter at how ridiculous they were for being so frightened over such cheesy effects and lackluster costumes. Cordelia couldn't remember the last time she had allowed herself to have a whimsical type of fun. And, as an added bonus, she would get to rub her success in Madison's face at the end.
The staircase at the end of the hall appeared before them as a gaping, pitch-black void in the already shadowed house, meant to swallow all who dared to enter. A chill floated up from the depths, spreading goosebumps along where her jacket sleeves had ridden up. Mallory was practically trembling beside her, her grip on Cordelia's hand so tight it bordered painful. Zoe, who, in the chaos, had been jostled to land at Mallory's side, press closer to her friend as they made their slow march through what Cordelia felt was the eeriest part of the house. Her stomach dropped, the bad vibes permeating like a cloud of kicked up dust.
Suddenly, there was a revving of a chainsaw somewhere nearby. Cordelia struggled to pinpoint its origin. They all huddled, frozen in fear, trying to determine the best route of escape. Go back and possibly come face-to-face with a murderer or advance forward until even more untold horrors. Her head whipped back and forward between their two options. She was supposed to be the adult, but all her authority had been thrown out the second they crossed the threshold.
The chainsaw grew louder and louder, until Cordelia realized that the person was fast approaching behind them. She could hear the stomp of their boot upon the old, wooden floor, could smell the smoke of the engine.
Zoe and Mallory seemed to catch up on her realization soon after. They both let out blood curdling screams, a shrill echo that had Cordelia disoriented in the narrow passageway. She slapped her hands over her ears just as her last remaining allies dashed off to the basement without warning.
Cordelia was stunned, rooted on the spot for a few seconds to gain her bearings. That was, until she sensed the presence of another person just behind her. Looking over her shoulder, she saw a man towering over her. He lifted the chainsaw above their heads and revved the engine. It was so close Cordelia could count the individuals nubs on the chain. She screamed, almost a perfect mimicry of her girls not a minute before and decided she would rather take her chances down below.
She descended the stairs two at a time, struggling for balance in her heels. In hindsight, her typical footwear was not a good choice for the evening, but how was she to know she would be running for her life?
When she reached the bottom step, Cordelia stared back up into the darkness from whence she came. The man had not followed her, and for that, she was grateful.
There was an eerie stillness in the part of the house she lingered in— a liminal space that was not quite the next room, but not a hall either. She used the alone time to catch her breath and to still the uncomfortable pounding in her chest.
Hunched over and heaving, it dawned on her that she was alone. Cordelia could hear more screaming in the distance, from both directions, but it was not the same as having a physical presence beside her to strengthen her morale. A brief wave of frustration pounded at her temples, but she let it die down. It wasn't Zoe or Mallory's fault. They had done what their bodies were trained to do in stressful situations, real or not. She had no other choice but to continue, to complete the dare alone.
It was only a short walk down a similarly decorated passage to the next room. She crossed through a choke point, a small archway, and into the open air of the basement. Flickering candles guided her deeper inside, a hazy mist thickening the atmosphere.
The walls were covered in a dense lattice of ivy, giving it an overgrown and forgotten feel. Fresh herbs hung from the ceiling in between flickering string lights. The most eye-catching aspect was the centerpiece— a long, rectangular wooden table. Beakers full of bubbling, colorful liquid dotted its surface. Snake skin, rabbit's foot, and stray hair join more herbs on the table, woven between a mortar and pestle, cauldrons of different size, and an unused Bunsen burner. Like all the other rooms, Cordelia knew it was meant to spark fear within her, but it had the opposite affect. Aside from the obvious props thrown in to give it a more violent backstory, it was quite cozy and reminded her of the greenhouse back at the Academy.
The decorations were so enchanting that she almost missed the body of a woman, lying just behind the table, the only thing in view being her bare, mud-covered feet. Her pulse spiked, nervous system sending her signs to prepare for another scare. Cordelia clutched at the flaps of her coat and pulled them one over the other for protection. Against her best interest, she inched forward.
Peaking around the edge of the table, Cordelia had a full view of the woman. It wasn't just her feet that were dirty— she was caked in the filth from literal head to toe, her pale skin barely visible underneath the marbled layers. Tattered clothes clung to her figure. The rips in the fabric of her shirt were a window to wounds, red, angry things that looked as through they were rotting her from the inside out.
Despite her decrepit appearance, the woman seemed to be at peace in her last resting place. Her expression was devoid of any tension, eyes closed and mouth almost cast into a light grin. Strands of wet curls framed her cheekbones, and her sharp jaw was upturned to the ceiling, as if her final moment alive was spent praying to a higher power above.
Based on the context of the decorations, Cordelia assumed she was a natural witch of sorts. That discovery was efficient enough to sate her curiosity, yet still, it was difficult to tear her gaze away. Amidst a haunted house of gore, frights, and jump scares, the woman was a rare beauty that captivated her. The tangible backstory, the little details, it all drew Cordelia in. Her chest clenched at the thought of what the woman might have gone through. Perhaps, burned at the stake and dumped. She had to remind herself that it wasn't real.
A distance scream snapped her out of her thoughts. She had lingered far too long. It would be best to leave, not let any lurking monsters have a chance at a free scare.
Just as Cordelia made to lave, the woman's eyes shot open. She sat up, her mouth falling slack to release a guttural cry of anguish. A jolt of electricity shot up Cordelia's spine and spread to the rest of her limbs, igniting the hairs on her skin to stand. Screaming back at the woman, she rushed backward for a quick escape. The heel of her stiletto caught on a groove in the floor and then, she was tumbling down.
Cordelia fell so fast that she didn't have time to recognize what was happening, or attempt to pad the impact properly. She landed on her ass, hands outstretched behind her. Her palms scraped against the concrete. There was a tension in one of her wrists, a quick torsion that radiated pain.
"Shit, are you okay?" The muddy woman was standing over her, a shadow of a figure in the mist that had Cordelia flinching. She hissed as the movement jostled her forearm. Another sharp, stabbing sensation flared up in her wrist.
"I don't know." Cordelia exhaled a shaky breath. "I think there is something wrong with my wrist."
"Fuck," she muttered. There was a rustling of fabric and then, the floor was illuminated by the thin beam of a flashlight. "Here, let me help you up."
Cordelia slid her uninjured hand into the stranger's surprisingly warm grip, letting the woman pull her to her feet. She stumbled, the world tilting on its axis as blood rush to her head.
Another strong hand was there to catch her. "Easy now," she said. Her smooth southern accent planted a seed of calm deep in Cordelia's soul. Inexplicably, she felt she was in capable hands. "I've got ya. Let's get outta my lair and somewhere safer, yeah?" Cordelia would have appreciated the humor, maybe even given her a chuckle, if she wasn't so worried about the damage to her arm.
The woman guided her to the farthest corner in the room. There, she brushed aside a layering of vines to reveal a normal looking door. She opened it and lead Cordelia through with a supportive hand on her lower back.
Stepping across the threshold was like stepping into an entirely different house. Gone were the haunted passageways that foretold of horror, replaced by gray walls and sterile overhead lights. Clearly, they were in the backrooms reserved for the scare actors to traverse the rooms undetected. And Cordelia, of course. She felt like an idiot, ending up injured after a simple scare.
They passed by several similar doors until the woman stopped. She opened it and flicked on the light switch, brightening up a modest, square room. A wooden computer desk and metal locker were pushed to the side. Across from them was a medical bed, where Cordelia was encouraged to sit. The seat was just a hair too tall for her. Cordelia was forced to hop up, feeling childish as the material squeaked loudly beneath her.
The weight of the situation pressed down on Cordelia, too heavy for her to bear. She chewed on her bottom lip and considered what to say as the woman rifled through the locker. Dozens of thoughts were swirling in her mind, converging at a singular point to form a tornado of anxiety.
"Should I go to the hospital?"
Glancing over her shoulder, the woman offered Cordelia kind blue eyes and a reassuring smile. "I don't think you'll need to." She closed the locker and walked to the medical bench, setting a first aid kit next to Cordelia's tense thighs. "But I'd like to give you a short once over, just to check?"
"Do you know what you're doing?" Cordelia loathed how harsh the question sounded as soon as it left her lips.
The woman didn't appear offended, though. She simply popped the latch on the kit and grabbed a pair of rubber gloves. "Yeah, I do. Don't worry." The latex slid over her muddy hands. However silly it looked, at least her wounds would remain infection free. "We are trained in first aid. It's part of the gig."
"That's kind of a relief," Cordelia said. "I'm sorry."
"You have nothin' to be sorry for. It's a bit unusual to have a swamp witch fixin' you up in the middle of a haunted house."
That evoked a genuine chuckle from her. "You've got that right."
Cordelia received another smile, warming the pit of her stomach. "I'm Misty, by the way. It's an honor to serve you tonight."
"Misty," Cordelia said. The name alone was sweet on her tongue, brought forth images of winter meadows, trickling streams, roads not taken. There was an expectant pause, in which Cordelia introduced herself. "Cordelia Goode. A pleasure, Misty."
The woman— Misty— rolled up Cordelia's sleeve and held her injured hand. When she flipped Cordelia's palm up toward the ceiling, a pleasant shiver rippled up her arm and straight into her heart, which kick-started a gentle, rhythmic drumming pattern. Little red beads of blood had filled the pocketed indentation in the skin. Misty checked the other hand to find the same result. Both had been scraped by the concrete.
"Cordelia," Misty said. "That's a beautiful name. What's it mean?" She ripped the top off a packet of sterile wipes and used the cloth inside to clean the blood away. The alcohol stung, but Cordelia was too preoccupied drowning in the shade of her irises to acknowledge it. Never had she seen such a stark and pale shade of blue, a depth that bespoke a past she could only dream of knowing.
"I don't know. My mother used to say that it means I'm her daughter."
Misty chuckled dryly. "And what was her name?" She tossed the bloody wipe into a nearby waste bin and unwrapped two bandages for Cordelia.
"Fiona." She was unable to hide the disdain that the mere mention of her mother brought forth. Misty's eyebrows rose, curious, as she peeled the backing off the bandages and laid them stuck them across Cordelia's palms.
"I don't know." Misty hummed. "Fiona is a very… stuck up name, like one an evil queen would have in one of them fairytales." Cordelia pressed her tongue against her teeth, stifling a laugh. If only Misty knew how right she was.
"But Cordelia," Misty continued, repeatedly pressing the sticky material of the band-aid to smooth it down. "Cordelia is like a flower. A beautiful, sweet smellin' flower that blooms all year and you can't help but take it home and put it in your windows or something."
A bright blush tinted Cordelia's cheeks. She ducked her head. "I wouldn't think so highly of my name."
Misty squeezed her hands. The touch was electric, a live wire awakening beneath her tender palms. "Well, I would." Taking a step back, her sunny disposition was eclipsed by an apologetic frown. If asked, Cordelia might just do about anything to feel the warmth of her joy again.
"Now comes the hard part."
A sudden dryness scratched at Cordelia's throat. "Oh?"
"I need to check your wrist," Misty said. She cleared away the excess trash piling on the seat. "To make sure it's not broken."
"It's going to hurt then, is it?" Her voice was quiet, barely a wisp in the stifling room.
Misty's frown deepened. "I'll be gentle, make it as painless as possible," she said. Cordelia stared down at her lap. Misty patted the top of her thigh, beckoning her gaze. Their eyes met. "I promise."
Her heart leap, erratically rattling the cage her chest had become, damning her feelings to temporary confinement. "I trust you," she said, a thoughtless declaration.
"Alright." Misty sighed. She cradled Cordelia's forearm. One hand supported her elbow, while the other wrapped around her knuckles. Cordelia forced her muscles to relax, to remain still for Misty. "I'm going to move it around a bit. Let me know when it hurts, if ya'd please."
Cordelia nodded. There was a comfort, a tranquil assurance in Misty's aura that eased Cordelia as the examination began. Misty extended her wrist left and right, up and down, rotating it to determine the point of strain. A little too far upward had Cordelia whimpering, a line of fiery pain running up the length of her limb.
"Sorry," Misty murmured.
"It's okay," Cordelia said through clenched teeth, readjusting her posture to remain pliable. "Do what you need to."
"Almost done." Misty shifted her hand, their palms laying flat together. A coolness radiated through the rubber glove separating them. Cordelia ached for skin to skin contact. Would her hand be soft and supple or weathered from hard work? Would the creases in her palm align with Cordelia's? Would their fingers interlace like a key into a lock? Lost in her thoughts, she almost missed the request, "Squeeze my hand."
Cordelia did just that, tightening her grip as hard as her injury would allow. She relished in the minimal contact, and pretended, if just for now, that holding hands with Misty was under a different pretense, one where they were connected for an interest in one another, rather than a medical concern.
"Gosh, your grip is still quite strong," Misty commented. Cordelia let up, a hot blush returning to her face.
"I was taught to have a strong handshake," she said. "Apparently, it means you're trustworthy."
Misty shook her head in amusement. "Society has a funny way of testin' that sort of thing." She let go of Cordelia's hand. It was much too soon. The loss of her touch felt swift and unforgiving, eroded earth left in the wake of the retreat.
"So, doctor, will I live?" Cordelia asked, rolling her sleeve down and tucking her arm close to her chest.
The corners of Misty's lips twitched. "You've got a long and healthy life in your future, Miss Cordelia," she said. "Your range of motion is decent. And considering your grip strength, I'd say it's probably not broken."
"Oh, thank god." The tension in Cordelia's shoulders released, making her feel ten times lighter. She hadn't penciled in a trip to the hospital or having to wear a cast for eight weeks into her busy schedule.
"However, in my slightly professional opinion, it is sprained." Misty removed an ace bandage from the kit. "I would recommend wearing a wrap to keep the swelling down. Take pain meds when you need 'em but if it gets worse, I'd head straight to the ER."
"That sounds simple enough." Cordelia had had to take care of a lot of people in her life— her mother after one too many drinks, her ex-husband, her students. A minor sprain was nothing in comparison.
"Yeah, not too bad. Could have been a lot worse. Um." Misty's gaze flitted between Cordelia's arm and her eyes. "Can I wrap that for ya?"
"Please. I would appreciate that very much."
The conversation lulled for a few minutes as Misty channeled all her concentration into wrapping Cordelia's wrist. Selfishly, Cordelia enjoyed the uninterrupted opportunity to watch Misty. The furrow of her brows was adorable, and the way in which her lithe fingers dragged and maneuvered the bandage around was, if she was being honest, a little attractive. She tried to shake the thought away.
Once Misty had secured the bandage with the metal clips, she stepped back to view her work. "How's it feel? Not too tight?"
"It feels good, I think." Cordelia flexed her fingers, twisted her forearm gently from side to side. "Not tight at all. It's wonderful. You did wonderful, Misty."
"So were you," Misty said, rocking on the balls of her feet. A hand lifted to her lips, white teeth chewing on her thumb. "I'm really sorry for scarin' you so bad. You're not… gonna sue, are you? I mean it's in your right but…"
"Oh my god," Cordelia gasped. "No, I won't. I knew what I signed up for when I came in here."
Misty let out a slow push of breath between pursed lips. "Thank you. That's mighty kind of you, even if I sorta deserve to get in trouble."
"Hey." Cordelia reached out to touch Misty's forearm. She stopped her nervous chewing, but there was a shadow of guilt darkening her features. "You don't deserve that. It was an accident."
"Okay." Misty shrugged. Cordelia wasn't sure she believed her. "No hard feelings then?"
"None at all." What an understatement it was. Cordelia had the softest of feelings for Misty, but she couldn't exactly share all that.
There was a short pause filled by shy glances and gentle, reassuring smiles until Cordelia remembered how she had ended here. "Shit, I should get going," she said, sliding off the seat. "My girls are probably in a panic looking for me."
"Oh." Misty's shoulders fell. Turning her back to Cordelia, she removed her rubber gloves and threw them into the trash bin. "I didn't realize your family was waiting. I would have hurried."
Cordelia fought the laugh that bubbled up in her throat. "I'm not a mother, just a responsible headmistress at an all girl's school."
"Jesus." Misty pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head slightly. When she spun around, her cheeks were a bit rosy underneath her dirt makeup. "I just keep making an ass of myself tonight. Ignore me."
"I think it's endearing, actually," Cordelia whispered, letting her tiny secret slip. At that, the color of Misty's complexion pinkened further. Butterflies erupted in Cordelia's stomach.
"I'll lead you out," Misty said. "The house is a maze and I wouldn't want you to get lost, or hurt… again." She sidestepped Cordelia and open the door, her arm extended in a flourish.
"Thank you, Misty." Inspired by the gesture, Cordelia mimed a timid bow.
Together, they cut through the hidden hallways in companionable silence. Experiencing the house from an employee's perspective had removed the scare factor from the place entirely. Without the decorations or the oppressive weight of people waiting in the shadows to jump out at you, it felt no different than walking through Robichaux's Academy. Misty at her side, though, was new, and simply being in her presence made the journey all the better.
They walked until the hallway reached a dead end, up a short staircase and through a door. Cordelia had never been so glad to be in the real world. Cold winter air bit at her cheeks as they rounded the side of the house and headed toward the front porch.
When the sea of bodies parted, Cordelia saw her girls huddling in a tight circle, some of them staring down at their phones and others on their tiptoes, scanning the crowd. Zoe was the first person to notice her approach, who broke out into a smile when the recognition hit. She spoke to her peers, saying something Cordelia couldn't quite hear before jogging over to meet her in the middle.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry, Cordelia," Zoe said through the stampede of students coming to join her. "We totally lost you in there. We thought you died!"
"Seriously, we were so worried," Mallory said.
"I'm the one who should be sorry, girls," Cordelia said. "I didn't mean to frightening you all. There was a bit of an accident." She raised her injured arm and pushed down the sleeve, showing off the bandage.
"Jesus," Madison scoffed. "I just wanted you to get scared and maybe piss your panties a little, not almost lose a limb."
Cordelia tried her best not to send daggers flying Madison's way. "I was not anywhere even close to losing a limb, Madison. It's just sprained."
"What the hell happened?" Queenie asked. Cordelia looked to Misty, who was lingering behind her, and then back to the girls.
The need to protect Misty from their judgment surged within her, though the woman was likely strong enough to handle it herself. "I tripped, and I didn't catch myself very well. That's all."
Madison barked out a laugh. Zoe elbowed her in the side, frowning. Cordelia ignored her.
"Luckily, I had a wonderful woman to administer first aid." Everyone's attention shifted to Misty. She gave them a sheepish wave.
The calm was broken after that, each girl talking over one another to share their opinion about Cordelia's safety or how lucky she was that Misty was there. Cordelia tried to listen, but there were too many overlapping voices. As much as she wanted to engage, her mind began to wander, still hung up on the woman who had been there with her through the entire ordeal. But when she checked over her shoulder again, Misty had disappeared. All that was left of her was a retreating head of curls, bending into the crowd.
"Excuse me, just a second," Cordelia said, interrupting Mallory's apology about how unfair she and Zoe had acted in the haunted house. Not bothering to wait for a response, she weaved through people going in all directions.
"Misty, wait!"
The woman in question stopped, allowing Cordelia to catch up with her.
"You left," Cordelia huffed through her short burst of exertion.
"Yeah." Misty shrugged. "It looked like you had your hands full. I didn't wanna make things worse."
"You wouldn't have." Cordelia shook her head. "I just…" She paused, not really knowing what to say. Her feet had started running before a reason formed in her mind. "I just wanted to say thank you for taking such good care of me. I don't think I ever properly expressed that."
"It was no problem," Misty shoved her hands into her crusty pockets. "Besides, I kind of owed you."
Cordelia opened her mouth to argue but Misty cut her off. "Uh uh. You can't deny truth. I scared you and you fell. Ain't much more to it."
Pursing her lips, a frustrated sigh escaped Cordelia's nose. She did want to argue because the situation had been much more nuanced than that, but she could tell Misty meant business, a certain persistence bolstering her attitude.
"Still, you didn't have to be so caring or attentive," Cordelia said.
"Maybe not," Misty said. "But I wanted to be. There's somethin' about you that made me wanna help."
Cordelia's heart fluttered. "There's something about you, too. I can't explain it."
"Is it my charming good looks?" Misty teased, pivoting left and right to show off her costume. "Or maybe…" Pulling her hands from her pockets, she held them in front of Cordelia and wiggled her fingers. "My magic hands?"
Cordelia laughed. "Something to do with that."
Their conversation faltered for a moment and Cordelia realized she didn't have much of an excuse to stick around. The sun had long set and it was passed the time she was supposed to return the girls to Miss Robichaux's Academy. Cordelia felt a reluctance to separate from Misty as if they were connected at two ends of a rubber band, rebounding the farther she tried to pull away. She feared the sting of loss, of Misty becoming a memory.
"Misty?"
"Hm?"
"I don't normally do this, but…" Cordelia willed her blush to cease and her knees to stop shaking. "Would you like to get together sometime?"
Misty smiled, her eyes squinted and her cheeks dimpled. "Get together?" she asked, tilting her head.
"Yes, like hanging out or spending time together outside of stuffy haunted house," she elaborated, one hand gesturing vaguely.
Misty didn't take even a second to consider the idea. "I think I'd like that, very much."
Cordelia was a confident woman, she had to be in her line of work, but she didn't exactly expect Misty to agree. They were strangers, albeit, with the spark of a connection that drew them together.
"Me too," Cordelia offered her a soft smile in return.
"Are you free tonight?" Misty asked.
Silently, Cordelia ran through all the tasks she had on her mental to-do list, all the responsibilities she had to uphold and the duty to about 20 students. But in the end, she thought she deserved to disregard the rules, to prioritize her own interests for once. Besides, she would need to start taking it easier around the school. At least for the next week while her arm healed.
"Yes, I think I am. My calendar just opened up," Cordelia said.
Misty, somehow, lit up more at the confirmation. "Awesome," she grinned. "My shift ends at 12:30. Unless that's too late—"
"No, that's perfect," Cordelia said. She was used to late nights, as she tended to overwork herself in order to remain caught up on paperwork. Though, usually, she was holed up in her office around that time, she was more than happy to make an exception.
Misty nodded. "Even better. I was thinkin' you could meet me at the pumpkin patch? We could walk around a little, maybe even pick one out? I'm sure the folks in charge wouldn't mind."
The suggestion sounded like heaven on earth to Cordelia, so she told Misty as much. "I haven't had the change to carve a pumpkin this year."
"I'll make sure to help you change that," Misty said.
"Good." Cordelia bit her bottom lip to suppress a grin. Her cheeks were beginning to hurt with just how much she had been smiling, and laughing. "I should probably get back to them," she pointed over her shoulders.
Leaning in, Misty whispered, "they've been watchin' this whole time."
Cordelia groaned. "I expected nothing less, unfortunately."
"It's alright," Misty said. "We'll have our alone time soon enough."
Just the thought of being able to spend alone time with Misty, to get to know her without all the outside factors of a haunted house and rowdy girls was enough to send Cordelia to cloud nine.
"I look forward to it." Cordelia stepped back, forcing her body to start a retreat, lest she remain here all night, stealing Misty from her work. "Enjoy the rest of your shift. Try not to hurt anyone else."
Misty tilted her head to the sky, an exasperated groan rising in a puff of white, cloudy smoke. "I'm never going to live that down, am I?"
"Not until I'm healed," Cordelia teased.
"Fair enough," Misty said. Their eyes met again, a gleaming icy blue piercing into Cordelia. "Until later, Miss Cordelia. Farewell."
"Farewell, Misty."
The departure felt bittersweet. Though it was difficult to watch Misty walk away, they would be reunited soon. She just needed to survive the rest of the evening, and judging by the waiting expressions of her girls, they wouldn't be making it easy for her. Squaring her shoulders, Cordelia strutted over to the circle as if nothing out of the ordinary occurred.
"What was that about?" Zoe asked.
"I wanted to say goodbye to Misty," Cordelia cleared her throat, smoothing out her jacket.
"Misty, huh?" Queenie waggled her eyebrow suggestively. "Sounds like it was more than just a goodbye."
Cordelia's smile was tense and secretive. "It sounds like you're hearing things at aren't exactly correct."
"I don't believe that for a second," Madison cut in. She pointed a finger at Cordelia, gesturing up and down. "I can see how hot and bothered you are from all the way over here. New girlfriend?"
"Guys, leave her alone," Mallory said.
Madison rolled her eyes. "Suck up."
"Alright, alright, let's all settle down," Cordelia said, channeling as much patience as she could. She made a conscious effort to deflect all their teasing and inappropriate behavior. Besides her aching wrist, the night had been a success, full of Halloween spirit, quality time with her students, and a new connection in the form of Misty. Nothing would be allowed to bring her down. "We need to go home."
There were a number of responding protestations. Cordelia waved them off and joined the flow of the crowd toward the exit. "You all had plenty of time to enjoy yourselves, with and without me. Come on."
To her surprise, none of them put up a further fight, one by one trailing behind her in a single file line. If their hushed whispering and sly glances were about her, she paid them no mind. She was too consumed in her own world. The crisp fall air was soothing against her skin, heated from the warmth that flared beneath her ribcage.
She would never give Madison the satisfaction, but that little, stupid dare just might have changed the trajectory of her life. Wrapped in gratitude and an ace bandage, she felt like she could conquer the world.