What's a Girl Gotta Do? by Holly Bourne

cheeks.
    In my bag was: a giant clown’s horn – ordered online, ’cause you know I don’t normally need a giant clown’s horn – hundreds of badges and posters, some paper plates, two tubes of squirty cream, and countless other mini horns.
    I looked at my reflection… I looked nuts. But I also looked fierce. I needed to look fiercer than I felt.
    I was ready.
    â€œWhat have you put on your face?” Mum asked me over breakfast. Dad, fortunately, had already gone to prepare for an early lecture.
    â€œWar paint.” I poured myself some orange juice. “My project starts today.”
    â€œOh dear,” was all Mum had to say about that.
    The doorbell rang just as I was finishing my toast. “It’s for me.” I swung my bag over my shoulder and ran to open the door. It was Amber, Evie and Will – Will had his camera running.
    â€œHAPPY VAGILANTE DAY,” the girls cheered, pulling me out the door for a hug.
    â€œYour war paint is awesome,” Evie said. “I want some.”
    â€œI’ve got the lipstick in my bag, hang on.”
    Will shoved his camera in my face just as I was handing over my purple lipstick.
    â€œHow does it feel, Lottie?” he asked, all uber-professional. I grinned into the camera lens and pointed to my face.
    â€œThis feminist is READY to declare war on patriarchy.” Then I dipped into my bag. “Hang on, I’ve got horns for everyone.”
    â€œHORNS!” Amber delved in to grab herself one. I could tell she was already far too excited. “All my life, I’ve wanted an excuse to toot a horn.”
    She honked it right in my face, making me wince. “Oww, Amber. We only honk it when we see sexism, remember?”
    â€œOh sorry.” But she honked it again.
    Will walked backwards to get us all in shot. “So, you’ve just left the house, Lottie. Do you see any sexism?”
    â€œNot yet, but it’s only been five seconds.”
    He peered up from his lens and I saw the corners of his eyes twinkle – if that’s possible.
    â€œYou decided to still wear make-up?” he commented, just loud enough for us to hear. Instantly three horns honked right into his face.
    â€œFIRST SEXISM OF THE DAY – FIRST SEXISM OF THE DAY!” I yelled, delighted that it was Will himself to give me my first instance. He needed vast amounts of being cut down to size.
    â€œWhy is asking that sexist?” he asked, not breaking professionalism, as we all started walking to college.
    I threw him major shade. “A,” I said, “we had this argument the other day, so God knows why you’re bringing it up again. B, just by asking this, you’re judging my choices as a woman.”
    â€œWoooah, hang on.” He put his hand over the lens briefly. “I’m not judging your choices as a woman.” He made quotation signs with his fingers when he said “woman”, which put my back up a bit. “I’m judging you as a female campaigning against sexism but wearing a faceful of make-up at the same time.”
    Evie rolled her eyes at him. “Will, just film already. Stop being difficult.”
    Amber honked the horn right in his ear, and his face scrunched up. “Yes, WILL. IF that’s even your real name.”
    Will rubbed his ear. “What? Why wouldn’t it be my real name?”
    â€œI’m just saying.” Amber tapped her forehead with her finger, confusing all of us.
    I put my hand up to stop everyone. “Guys, come on! The project has only been going two minutes, and we’re already attacking a boy.”
    â€œHe started it,” both Evie and Amber yelled.
    I nodded, then threw Will more shade. “He did, and he knows he did…but no angry ranty feminismy-ness. It puts people off, remember?”
    â€œThanks, Lottie,” Will said. He raised his eyebrows at me – in an almost flirty way. Gah! He was already so