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Enid’s hair is newly toned with reds and pinks to match the paint on her nails, adjusting the sweater made up of red and white hearts when Wednesday walks into the quad, plunking herself down beside her personal eyesore.
“Happy Valentine’s Day!” Enid cheers, bumping Wednesdays shoulder who scowls in response. Picks at the peel of the tangerine on Enid’s plate with nails black, and putridly smelling of acetate that has Enid’s nose scrunching.
Wednesday hums, her thumb nail parting the fruit but never reaching for a slice.
“Yes, another arbitrary holiday filled with patriarchal ideals. How enticing.”
Xavier slinks into the seat across the girls, slinging an arm around Ajax who leans his head against his shoulder, rolling his eyes. “Must you be such a downer all the time?”
She beams a dead eyed smile, her gaze flickering down to her thumb that’s coated in the fruit juice and pith. “It is one of my more redeeming qualities.”
He chuckles in response, nodding to Enid. “So, got any plans for the day?”
Enid sits up proudly, puffing her chest out.
“I’m having a date with myself.”
Wednesday tilts her head, huffing something akin to a laugh.
“How many times did you have to ask to get a yes?”
Enid narrows her eyes playfully, biting into a piece of her croissant. “Haha. How funny. What, no big dates for you then?”
Wednesday gags dryly, finally letting her hand fall to her lap. She regards the croissant with mild disinterest. “I’l be sitting in the solitude of my yellowing pages by the graveyard of my great aunt.”
The trio all look at each other weirdly, Ajax shaking his head and reaching across the table to pat Enid’s hand. “A date with yourself sounds great, Ends, but didn’t you mention how you got five proposals in your locker yesterday?”
Wednesday stiffens out of Enid’s peripheral, the blade she keeps snugly tucked into the arm of her sleeve dipping.
Xavier looks all too snug across from her, and she shoots him something sardonic.
Enid sighs wistfully. “Yeah, but it’s totally lacking in the romance! I mean- Valentines Day is the most romantic day of the year! I’m not gonna waste it on some guy who slipped some over the top Pinterest love letter into the waste of my locker. The letters totally smell of metal and school, too.”
Wednesday, usually as still as the bodies she claims her mother has in a pile, is twitching. Enid looks to her with a raised eyebrow, but the raven-haired girl refuses to meet her gaze.
“Uh.. Wends, you okay?”
Wednesday blinks, seemingly coming out of her haze. She nods sharply, standing.
“Where are you going?”
Huffs a sigh from her nose. Her eyelid twitches as she glowers down at Enid, before she stomps off back into the school without a single goodbye. Enid turns to the two boys across the table, who are comparing hand sizes.
Groaning, a smile plays at her lips nonetheless. “You guys are so sweet it’s actually killing me!”
Xavier sticks his tongue out playfully. “Well, maybe Wednesday will actually kill you. Or suffocate you with her love.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Enid flushes, gnawing at the skin of her cheek, wistful thoughts plaguing her imagination.
Ajax rolls his eyes. “Xav, leave the little golden retriever alone. You know there’s only two braincells rubbin’ together in there.”
Whining. “Heeeyy, I’m a werewolf!” Flexes her claws proudly. “See? Don’t mess with me!”
“Oh yeah, you’re a real wild coyote.” He snorts in response, reaching across to snag a piece of the decicrated tangerine Wednesday left on the plate.
Enid pouts, stuffing another piece of croissant into her mouth. “I hate you guys.”
Ajax smiles, all teeth and adoration in his gaze. “You love us.”
“No I don’t.”
Eyebrow quirking. “Yeah, you do!”
“Nuh uh!”
A moment passes. Xavier sighs. “Here we go…”
And then Ajax leaps over the table, tackling the blonde off the bench and onto the hard courtyard ground in a bear hug. She chokes on a surprised laugh, rolling them over so she sits on his stomach.
“Get off!”
“Never!”
Xavier sighs, sinking down in his seat to watch his best friend and boyfriend duke out their loving feud in form of an awkwardly intimate battle. Waves at the students over the bites of tangerine he decides to eat, watching the duo warily.
-
The next day, Enid decides on curling her hair properly. She’s pulled on an oversized hoodie with a huge heart in the middle to bite off the lingering winter chill. She smiles at her reflection, the tiny heart stickers on her cheekbones reflective under the overhead bathroom lights.
She leaves the bathroom, heading for her Caramel Apple perfume with a skip in her step. Sprays a cloud she twirls around in, facing the goth who’s usually busy at her typewriter, thats now watching her. Intently.
She blinks in surprise. Usually the raven haired girl wouldn’t dare look at her before noon, obsessively ruminating over the drafts of her chapters or cultivating new ones. But today, her fingers were still around the backing of the chair, and with a stretch of her neck, Enid notes the page is blank. She hadn’t been roused by the natural alarm of the typewriter hammer, now that she thinks about it.
Odd.
“You look like your hairs trying to escape.”
Not as odd. Okay.
“Your words don’t wound me, Addams. You’re losing your edge.” She says with a wink, crouching down to search through her makeup bag for the red-tinted lip gloss that tastes like raspberry.
She can practically hear the steaming clock hissing clouds out of Wednesday’s ears, looking over at the glowering girl. “What?”
“You.” She tenses her grip, the veins in her pale hands swollen. “You are angering me.”
Enid blinks, laughing awkwardly. “I’m angering you? I haven’t spoken to you all morning.”
Nodding, as if the answer were obvious, Wednesday spins back around to her desk. The familiar and comforting clicking of the keys doesn’t occur, even when Enid shuts the door behind her on her way to breakfast. There’s just complete silence.
Back to being odd.
-
Some students occupying Nevermore used the slits in lockers as a breathing hole for bullied freshmen, others for airing out their sweaty gym clothes. And, on occasions like Valentine’s Day, as a way to send a one liner-proposals and love letters completely plagiarized to the object of their affections.
Today, Enid’s locker was filled with several dozen love letters, tucked safely into their little pink and red envelopes with her name written (usually, wrong) on the front in fat marker smudges.
She sighs, moving them to the empty side of her locker near the back to grab her textbooks for the day. She feels the energy shift, more than sees Ajax, saddle up beside her, and shuts the door to smile at him. “Hey, Ajax!”
“Gooood morning, you adorable blonde!”
Her eyebrows furrow, a half smile lifting her face. “Okay? You’re being weird today.”
“Am not.”
Snorting. “Are so.”
“Am no- okay, yknow what, my ribs still hurt from you sitting on me yesterday. I am weird, but you love me for it!”
She rolls her eyes affectionately, interlocking their arms as they head for their first class of the day- Medieval History with Ms. Thornhill, who took over for Dr. Edgars when he quit after the events of last year. She snorts at the memory of the stoic man running from the academy grounds with arms flailing, and waves off Ajax’s curious glance.
They’re 10 minutes early, and slip into their assigned desk at the back. The glass window is cool against her shoulders when she leans back, and sags in relief. Glances to the board to see the day’s topic scrawled messily; Torture Methods in the Dark Ages. Thinks mindlessly of obsidian eyes and the smell of bitter coffee.
She flips open the textbook to the page inscribed on the white board, a frown pinching her forehead at the paper folded in half inside. No name, or envelope. Intrigued, she flicks it open to read the eloquent handwriting on the inside.
Enid
I hope you die by my side, the two of us at the exact same time. the truth is, you could slit my throat, and with my one last gasping breath I would apologize for bleeding on your shirt.
Ajax settles down beside her, his textbooks and water bottle making up his side, motioning to the paper. “What’s it say?”
She blinks in response, her face pinching even tighter. “I think I’m being threatened?”
“What?!” Ajax grabs the paper, reading it over. Chuckles.
“What’s so funny?!”
He rolls his eyes, slipping it back into her textbook with a shrug and quirk of the lips. “It’s romantic. Yknow, a dark romance that could possibly be a maniacal, murderous stalker, but still, It’s sweet!”
“Uh, I think this is definitely alarming?” She says in return, her fingers toying with the sleeve of her hoodie when she snaps the textbook back open. It’s so plain- it’s not calling for her attention with bright colours or puffy stickers of glittery hearts and cats with sunglasses on the front. Just blank paper. But she’s drawn to it all the same, and it’s just as upsetting, as it is heart-warming.
Why wasn’t this person vying for her affections? Was she not their first choice, but a last ditch attempt at saving the wreckage that was their love life?
She twists in her seat, riffling around in Ajax’s rucksack. He raises an eyebrow, twiddling his pencil against the desk. She straightens up with a bottle of Gravol and snags his metal water bottle off the table. This whole thing was giving her a migraine.
The words were… disconcerting, to say the least. But all the same, familiar and a warmth settles into the pit of her stomach like the hearth of a burning building.
Beautiful, but dangerous.
“If Ms. Thornhill asks a question, tell her I died.” She instructs to the other boy that chuckles in acknowledgment as she burrows her hands into her arms folded out in front of her.
Who did she know in the school who weren’t so over the top with their confessions? None of her friends- they were all either gay men or some form of sapphic already in love with their perfect paramour. And who in the hell could write perfectly straight without the aid of dotted lines? There’s no indentations at the bottom of the words, which quickly dissolves the idea of someone poking their tongue out trying in vain to perfect their writing against a plastic ruler. And how did the letter get into her book? It couldn’t have just slipped in there, these books were like dead weight just to open. Let alone the meaning biting behind the words..
She goes over her mental checklist, letting the dull throb in her temples (from an uncomfortable nights sleep without Wednesday’s typing, or the letter, she did not know) fade with the aid of the medicine. She was teetering on falling asleep, when Ajax slams his palms onto the table.
“Wednesday!”
She snaps her head back, wincing at the influx of light and sound around her, to find said girl stood in front of her with her hands clasped behind her back. She nods a greeting to Ajax, her eyes never leaving Enid.
“Wends- what are you- don’t you have a free period right now?”
Her lip curves at the left for a split second, before settling back into a tight press of lips. “Yes. But Ms. Thornhill asked for my expertise in the area of today’s lecture.”
Enid chuckles. “Of course, you do love all things twisty.”
Ajax coughs, something about eye-fucking under his breath. She elbows him in the ribs, and he winces. “Ow! I’m still not healed from you sitting on me!”
Enid flushes, glancing to Wednesday’s minute raise of the brows. Pushes her chair right up against her seat-mates. “ Did you want to sit?”
Wednesday affirms with a tilt of her chin, moving to pull one of the plastic chairs next to Enid’s. She ignores the spark that shoots down her spine when their arms brush, gulping down more of Ajax’s water to cool herself down.
Wednesday clasps her hands on the desk, her gaze on the folded paper practically shoved into the spine of the textbook. Enid bites at the inside of her cheek- waiting for a question that does not come.
Ajax leans forward, snatching it up and waving it around like a flag because, apparently, sitting still and quiet was near impossible for him. “Enid has a crush.”
She smacks him on the arm, her voice rising in octave. “I do not! I just- got a letter from someone, that’s all.”
Wednesday hums, watching the paper’s movements with a laser focus. “So you do not reciprocate the feelings?”
Oh, good, tbe splitting headache is back tenfold. She groans. “I don’t know, maybe? I don’t even know what this person looks like!” snatching the paper back and hiding it away in the safety of her pocket.
Ajax snorts, elbowing her gently back. “Wow, way to be shallow.”
She glares in return. “You know what I mean.” Turns to face Wednesday fully, their knees knocking together. “It’s.. it’s really well written and it’s making me a little crazy but I don’t- I don’t know! I don’t know what they’re like in person, or if they’re even my type-“
Wednesday makes an indiscernible noise, and Enid finally shuts up because the blush eating away at her face is going to set her skin aflame at any second. Leans back against her chair at an awkward bend with a sigh.
“What is your type, as you so eloquently put it.”
“Oh, I can answer that!” Ajax chimes in again,and she really is going to sit on his stomach until he Venmo’s her money, because as much as she loves him, she idly wants to slap him for constantly badgering on when it truly doesn’t concern him.
Shoots him a warning glare that should make him nervous, but his smile just broadens. “She likes the down to earth types. Mysterious, broody. Like a black cat to her golden retriever!” Slaps her on the back, and her jello-esque body careens forward, only for soft hands to catch her by the biceps.
She’s so close to Wednesday, she can smell the faint trace of bitter chocolate on her breath from the coffee mix she’d bought her in town, and she tilts her head in an agonizingly adorable way, her nose scrunching in confusion. “Golden retriever?”
Enid straightens out, because it’s an awkward angle and she knows Wednesday doesn’t like to be touched. But she sees something flash across her face, gone before she can pinpoint it. Nods dumbly.
“Yeah- like, cause I’m all bubbly and friendly and blonde, or whatever.”
Ajax snorts. “Don’t forget loyal to a fault.”
That makes Wednesday perk up.
“So.. a black cat would be your opposite?” Wednesday inquires, and Enid can only nod stupidly again because God, no one should look that cute when they’re confused- especially when they’re in the body of someone who could kill you within a split second- but Wednesday is always full of surprises.
“Do you have one. A type, I mean.” She clarifies when Wednesday starts with the cute head tilt again because her heart can’t take much more of this.
Wednesday hums, raising one shoulder. “I have only ever liked one person.”
And her heart crumbles. Because Tyler was the only person Wednesday’s ever liked, and she’s nothing like him. Which she’s grateful for, but Wednesday deserves far better than him- and oh, she’s staring.
She adds possible mind-reading to Wednesday’s ever-expanding list of abilities. “Not him.” Her voice is quiet, eyes widening in earnest and she realizes her claws have perforated the water bottle, the water cold and seeping into her hoodie. She pulls the note out, slipping it into her back back and groans.
“Now I’m wet.”
Ajax is teetering off his seat in laughter that garners several confused gazes, but she’s too busy watching her room mate to care.
Wednesday stills, then stands. A question is poised on Enid’s tongue, but quickly forgets whatever she had to say when Wednesday slips her own black and white checkered crewneck off, passing it to Enid.
“Here.”
Enid holds the sweater that’s warm despite Wednesday’s renown frigidness, and frowns. “You’re only in a tank top. It’s cold.”
She sits down again, pulling out the notes she’d made for the class just as Thornhill walks in. “I don’t mind being cold so long as you are comfortable.”
She chances a look at Ajax, sheepishly, but he’s smiling, and leaning in. “I will risk any of my possessions in the name of love.”
She pretends to hide her grimace in the fabric of the sweater she adorns- but it smells like Wednesday and she’s slowly becoming addicted to the strong smell of black coffee and lingering notes of something earthy and entirely Wednesday.
She wonders several times during class, when she watches with rapt attention as Wednesday answers questions posed no one else can, who she’s liked if not Tyler.
-
Finally, classes are over for the week. She only got one homework assignment due the following Monday, mercifully, so she decides to spend the rest of the day doing absolutely nothing, as the heavens intended.
She kicks her shoes off and tosses her bag down without a thought, scrolling absentmindedly on TikTok as she bee-lines for her bed. She’s so entranced by the video of someone yelling at a customer service worker- because really, how self absorbed do you have to be to do such a thing?- to notice the crinkling of something that sounds near tearing, crumpled under her when she jumps onto her back, then nearly floors herself trying to grab for it.
She grabs it quickly, heart in her throat, and smooths the crinkles of the paper out on the edge of the desk before settling it down. It’s the same blank printer paper that’s stained in smatterings of ink and coffee?
Enid
I wonder which will get you killed faster — your loyalty or your stubbornness to see in front of you?
She looks down at the note on the table. The same handwriting from the letter she’d received in her book. But how did it get into the room? Wednesday opening the door and letting them in would be the only plausible reason but—-
Oh. Wednesday doesn’t do nice things, and oh, it’s Wednesday’s handwriting. Coffee, and ink that’s kind of shaped like a fault line.
Of course no one else on God’s green earth, could write so cleanly and legibly using only their own hand and brevity.
She physically slaps herself on the forehead with her palm, shaking her head to see if there truly were only two braincells rattling around in her skull.
Enid flinches at the sudden voice behind her. “How often do you hit yourself in the face?”
She shrugs, twisting around, an awkward laugh lodged in her throat at the sight of Wednesday, with her hair free of its braids and in clothes that look comfy enough to steal. “I dunno, three … four hundred times?”
Something magical happens. A Valentines Day miracle, really. Wednesday laughs. It’s soft, and sweet like honey and Enid feels the pulse in her neck thrumming to the rhythm of it.
She finally takes in the full visual of Wednesday with two mugs in her hands- not by the handle, mind you, steaming hot.
“You’re going to burn yourself, Willa!” She gasps, hurrying to take them by the handles. Wednesday shrugs, a devious smile playing at her lips and it’s the most enthralling sight she’d ever seen. Puts the mugs down on the windowsill, shaking her hands free of lingering steam that seeps into her skin.
“It’s how I keep myself without finger prints.” Wiggles her dark red fingers. Enid rolls her eyes, going for the first aid kit she’d relocated from the bathroom to her desk, given the amounts of times Wednesdays come back home with some form of bodily injury.
A grip, hot at the tips and cool elsewhere wraps around her wrist, yanking her back.
“Wednesday-“
Wednesday shakes her head, her loose waves whipping about. “No let me talk first or I’ll lose the nerve..”
Enid’s eyebrows raise at how nervous her usually stoic room mate is, and lets Wednesday weave their fingers together. Perhaps to ground her, or to cement the fact they’re there, in that moment, touching.
A shuddering intake of breath breaks the silence, as Wednesday nods resolutely to herself.
“When I first met you I hated you. You were everything I saw wrong in the world. You were entirely too happy, and obnoxiously bright. There has never been a redress for how I treated you. But you must understand that your touch isn’t natural. Perhaps it’s why I avoided it.” Chuckles to herself, her eyes flickering upward as if she’s privy to a joke Enid’s never heard. Continues with a soft shake of her head. “You have wizened hands connected to a soul that knows far beyond I ever could. And that petrified me. To know that you could kill me. Perhaps not with your hands, because you’re far too gentle. But by me dimpling being in the presence of the only thing capable of undoing me.”
Enid blinks. “In English, please?”
Mercifully, Wednesday laughs again, her dimple showing and the corners of her eyes crinkling and it’s the most naturally pretty sight she’s ever seen. If the sky fell right now, she’d be truly thankful that this would be the last thing she ever saw.
Wednesday looks down to her combat boots, a gorgeous flush colouring her cheeks.
“I like you, Enid. I like you because you’re a loyal golden retriever with a penchant for butting into my life and I wouldn’t have it any other way, even if I’m… less than kind, a lot of the time, to nearly everyone.”
Enid squeezes their interlocked hands, tugging. Wednesday refuses to raise her head, and she sighs. “Was that whole speech for the floor? Look at me, Wends.”
She doesn’t- and she swallows down the laugh at the hypocrisy of calling her stubborn when something good is in front of her. But she’s thankful for it, when she gets to reach out and nudge Wednesday’s chin up with her fingers.
She seems to shy away, and she wishes she hadn’t done it, because Wednesday’s discomfort is her worst nightmare, but then she’s nuzzling into Enid’s touch like it’s the only thing capable of calming her, and so she calls upon every ounce of vulnerability she has for Wednesday to hear the earnest in her words. “I like you too, Wednesday. So much. So much so that it’s driving me insane being so close to you and not being able to kiss you.”
The apples of Wednesday’s cheeks flush a red that’s never been painted, and she scuffs the toe of her boot on the hardwood. “As much as I would like that,” she withdrawns from the touch, just to place a tender kiss against Enid’s palm before dropping their laced hands to the gap that seems like a chasm between them. Enid swallows the whine.
“I would like to go about this properly. Because you deserve the romantic gestures and the attention and all of the rest of the nauseating emotional affairs people seem so fond of. So, will you do me the honour of allowing me to court you?”
Enid bites her bottom lip, shaking her head fondly. “You talk like you were born in the 1920’s. But yes, Wednesday, I’d love nothing more than to go courting with you.”
Eyes narrow, nose scrunching. “You do not go courting. You court. To go courting would essentially mean to go dating, which does not make sense.”
“Oh my god- please, just take me on a date so I can finally kiss you, please, because you’re far too adorable for me to stand.”
Wednesday acquiesces, tugging her toward the door where she holds out Enid’s coat for her to step into. She flushes, when she slips her arms through the holes and arms come to wrap around her waist. Wednesday’s lips are at the shell of her ear, her breath sending shivers down her spine.
“I’m not adorable. I can be very terrible. I just happen to adore you.”
Enid turns her head so their noses brush, the same question at the forefront of her mind all day. “How did you get in my locker?”
Wednesday purses her lips. “Ajax told me the combination. Now come on.”
Okay- so now she, unfortunately, but definitely had to apologize for bruising her best friends ribs when he’d been pestering with the purest of intentions, she thinks idly as Wednesday leads her out of the dorm hand in hand.