Chapter Text
“The best practice is to not rush in establishing the key. That is also the best practice of many composers you should be able to identify by the end of this course,” Wednesday droned on in her tutoring session. She was surprised that someone came at all. Let alone an upperclassman.
The girl was blonde with pink and blue streaks fading out of her shoulder length cut. She looked as though her closet threw up its worst form of fresh bile following a vegetable medley. Colors of all kinds. No coordination in sight.
Wednesday glanced at the sign in sheet.
Enid Sinclair.
Junior.
Musical theater major.
Theory I
“I’m a transfer,” she butted in, having caught Wednesday staring.
“I didn’t ask,” Wednesday shot back, impassive. She had no interest in the back story of such an abominable creature.
The blonde winced, slightly dejected. “Oh,”
Wednesday clenched her jaw at the feeling of her chest constricting at the sight. She schooled her body’s response, tame, cold, unresponsive. A perfect craft.
“First species counterpoint…” Wednesday muttered to herself. Her mind trailed off uncharacteristically. The girl already looked deeply confused despite them not getting into any content of substance.
Why did she have thoughts of accommodation? Should she approach her methods differently so Enid would have an easier time digesting the content? What the actual hell were these rampant thoughts?
“Wednesday?” She heard the bubbly voice float to her ears with the acrid, demonic intent of her favorite melodies.
“You have a quiz in two days,” the tutor blurred out.
Enid just blinked.
Fuck. Shit. Damnit. That was supposed to be a pop quiz for Thornhill’s class. Why did she say that? Where did that even come from?
“I will go over the contents with you now,” It was like she wasn’t in control of herself anymore.
Enid just watched her, doe eyed, hanging on every word.
Well of course she was. She was here to learn.
Wednesday cleared her throat. “The quiz will just be identifying the main components of first species. The Cantus Firmi is generally developed first and the following upper lines work against it, creating a melodic tension that will get resolved,” Wednesday dared a peek at the blonde. She was furiously writing notes.
“Let’s do some identification examples.”
To say that Enid was confused was an understatement. She had a “but why” mindset about the entire process that reminded Wednesday of her own early days in classical theory. She failed every single example after every explanation.
The blonde looked like she was going to cry. The constriction in Wednesday’s chest returned. She could fix this. If she couldn’t help a student understand, what good was she as a tutor?
“We should stop here for today,” Wednesday said quietly. She had already gone an hour over her allotted time slot and had told Eugene she would accompany him to check on the bees at the botanical gardens he volunteered at.
The blonde sniffled quietly and Wednesday briefly considered if she was having a stroke.
“It is not an easy subject. You should not feel negatively about misunderstanding a new subject. Although I completely understand the frustration. When I take on a new hobby I don’t stop until I master it. However that process is not without its own hurdles,” Wednesday accidentally mused. She wondered where the rest of her thoughts were feeding her mouth from. It certainly wasn’t her calculated brain.
Whatever it was, she needed to kill it. Slowly and mercilessly.
“Thanks Wednesday. I should have known I’m a lost cause though. I’m not particularly good at anything…” the blonde laughed coldly to herself.
Wednesday wasn’t sure what to say so she just stared.
“Sorry for wasting your time,” Enid said as she started to pack up her obscenely bright writing utensils.
Wednesday nearly sighed. She grabbed her manuscript pad and quickly wrote out another example.
“What key is this in?” She asked, suddenly startling Enid.
“G major,”
“If this note here,” Wednesday circled a note on the staff. “Is a fifth above the root…” she trailed off.
“IT NEEDS TO BE RAISED!” The blonde shouted in near disbelief. “IT CAN ONLY BE A PERFECT FIFTH!”
The light that encompassed Enid’s face spread a different feeling throughout Wednesday’s chest. She had never felt it before. Almost as if a parasite gave birth and dispersed its offspring into your veins.
She couldn’t help the small smirk she made. “Exactly,”
“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” Enid’s smile could blind if it shined any brighter.
“You did all the work. I merely supplied the materials,” Enid blushed slightly at that.
“You should believe in yourself, Sinclair. You often second guess your decisions although your first thought was sound,” Wednesday thought out loud.
The look Enid gave her made her feel like throwing up. As if she’d encountered a poison she hadn’t become immune to yet.
“Right,” Enid said, significantly more excited than before.
Now they could end. With a strong resolution rather than a negative or minor one. Although Wednesday didn’t mind those, she usually preferred them even. This ending with Enid Sinclair, a bright finish was fitting.
Wednesday hummed to herself as she relished in the reverberation of the cello in her chest. She bowed furiously, searching for something. Something rare. A feeling . She sighed as her journey bore no fruit. She took a breath before diving back in but paused as she heard the seal of the practice room break. She whipped her head around, twin braids following suit, to glare at the intruder. She called on all of her training to fight the bile rising in her gut. The feeling she had been looking for stared her right in the face.
“Sorry! There wasn’t an ID in the door and I couldn’t see you from the little window,” Enid rambled.
“Could you not hear me playing?” Wednesday steeled her jaw.
“Well, I think so. But I wasn’t a hundred percent sure because you had stopped. You’re a lot shorter than I remember…” The blonde shook her head. “Sorry, that’s so rude. Wow, is that a Stradivarius?” The intruder pointed at Wednesday’s cello.
If Wednesday rolled her eyes any harder they might disconnect from the optical nerves. “If I say that it isn’t, will this interruption be over?” She mentally chastised herself for the bite of her words.
She took a deep breath. She and Kinbott had talked about this. Just because someone interrupts her schedule doesn’t mean that they are inherently an enemy or deserving of scorn, despite her innate desire to set all of her irritants aflame. Wednesday pinched the bridge of her nose until she could feel an ever so slight internal give. She turned to fully face Enid.
“My apologies. I understand that my tone is often taken as…”
“Rude?”
Wednesday opened her mouth to speak.
“Standoffish?” Enid chimed.
“Crude?” The blonde added.
Now she was just being disrespectful. Wednesday allowed herself a faint smirk to line the left side of her lips. “I was going to say charming,” Wednesday said and her eyes widened at the blonde’s laughter suddenly filling the small room.
Enid bit her lip. “In a weird way I guess you could say that if this were some strange opposites day world,” The blonde tried to hold in her laughter.
Did Wednesday just try to flirt? Was Enid Sinclair, Junior of Musical Theater, Theory I, flirting with her? The cellist felt disoriented. What was this feeling? It felt as if Pugsley was trying to choke her with her cello strings like he had that one time she was sick with an ear infection and hadn’t felt him coming.
She palmed her neck in thought.
Enid’s laughter pulled her back into the present. “Wednesday you’re so red,”
Wednesday bit the inside of her lip until she tasted the sweet metallic taste. “Could you be useful and close the door?” She turned back to her cello and began to bow.
Fucking Musical Theater Kids . Wednesday rolled her eyes as she heard the seal of the door but still felt the warmth of another body. “Sinclair,” She said menacingly.
“You didn’t clarify if I had to be on the outside or the inside,” she chuckled to herself.
Oh so damn clever.
“It should have been implied,” Wednesday muttered under her breath.
“I’ll get out of your hair,” Enid said teasingly but made no effort to move.
In fact, it sounded as though she were fidgeting. “Sinclair, your presence is maddening, please make yourself scarce,” The raven thought she actually might be sick. The sudden heat took over her body.
“Okay, yeah, you’re right I’m sorry, I’m totally pushing, sorry. I wanted to thank you for your help the other day, I got a B- on the quiz,”
Wednesday stayed as still as she could. Perhaps this moment would be over if she ceased.
Enid took a deep breath, “Anyways, thanks! I will probs come back if that’s okay because I’m totes so lost,”
Of course it’s okay it’s her job. Why wouldn’t it be okay? Wednesday remained silent. Another beat and the blonde finally took her leave. The Addams let out a breath she had actively been holding for the last three minutes.
Wednesday grabbed at the manuscript paper and tore it from the stand. She ripped it in half before crumbling it. It was like the fates were playing a cruel joke on her. The crumbled sheets combined phrases leaving Wednesday staring at the wastebasket that now said un amor colorido.