Trick or Treat by Jana Hunter Page B

also a total neatness freak, in case you didn’t know. “Hope you’ve not squashed my cake, Rosie,” she fussed.
    “Oops.” Rosie, who’s known for being a bit of a klutz, went red. “Let me check…”
    “Don’t bother, Rosie,” I told her glumly. “The Sleepover Club’s not stopping.”
    “What!”
    “But it’s sleepover night!”
    “I know. It’s over at Frankie’s instead.”
    “Mine?” Frankie’s voice sounded muffled behind her green plastic mask. “But we had it at mine last time.”
    “I know. Molly’s messed everything up, as usual.”
    There were moans of “typical” and “what a Monster”. But before we had a chance to think up any worse names for my meddling sister, the doorbell rang and the monster herself flounced out of the kitchen and pushed past me.
    “Out the way, little kids,” she said, shoving Frankie-the-witch rudely. “I’m having my friend to stay over now. So your baby sleepovers are numbered…”
    “Oh yeah?”
    “Yeah!”
    “What d’you mean?”
    Molly looked smug as she delivered her killerblow. “Jilly’s staying here Fridays now. So the Sleepover Club’s out!”
    We all gaped at her. Then Frankie piped up:
    “That’s what you think! Our Sleepover Club has rights!” Frankie will always stand up for herself in a fight, especially if she’s wearing witch’s talons and a pointy hat.
    “Rights for you load of babies? You must be joking!” sneered Molly.
    “We’re not babies!”
    “Yes you are!”
    “No we’re not!”
    As you can see, things were getting out of hand, and Total War probably would’ve broken out if Jilly’s mum herself hadn’t peeped through the letterbox.
    “Hello,” she said, in a friendly voice. “Anyone going to let us in?”
    This was definitely not the moment to start fighting. So we decided to cool it and plot our revenge over at Frankie’s instead.
    Because something Had To Be Done.
    It’s not that we minded sleeping over at Frankie’s for the second week running. Frankie’s got a huge bedroom with extra bunk beds, so it’s well nice having our sleepovers there. (And as Rosie said, a sleepover is a sleepover.) No, we didn’t mind so much about staying at Frankie’s. It’s just that, as Frankie said, “It’s the principle of the thing. If Molly starts messing up our sleepovers, who knows what will happen next?”
    And the gang agreed.
    That’s why I did what I did. The horrible, hairy deed itself. I mean, no point in letting a fat, juicy spider go to waste is there?
    Carting our stuff through the streets was brilliantly creepy. It was so dark and silent that Frankie-the-witch kept cackling and pretending to put a spell on the houses.
    “Eye of newt, toe of bat,
    Light of the full moon,
    Get lots of sweets for Trick-or-treat…
    Cos we are coming soon!”
    “Ooo, ooo…” I chanted, waving my hands. “We’ll put a spell on you, if you don’t!”
    But Fliss, whose mum doesn’t approve of spells and stuff, was not having any of this. “Why don’t we practise our 5ive routine?” she said, ignoring our class act.
    “Not now!”
    “Why? We’ve got loads of room out here…”
    “NO!”
    Course, in the end Lyndz, seeing that Fliss was desperate to get off the scary subject of spells and witches, saved her as usual. Lyndz loves to rescue things. If there was a flea drowning in her tea, she’d probably fish it out and give it the kiss of life. “Come on, you two,” she said, doing a 5ive-type kick. “Fliss is right. We’ve got loads of room to practise our routine here.”
    So we gave in.
    At least, we tried. We tried five times todance down the street and sing like our current favourite boy band, but we were so loaded up with stuff it was impossible to do the movements properly. Frankie of course was determined to put some witchy bits into our routine, so she stuffed her rolled-up sleeping bag between her legs and pretended to fly on it down the street. She made us laugh so much our singing went