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“Tyler, the cage.”
When it seemed like Tyler wasn’t responding, Wednesday turned to peek over her shoulder. She was bent over a pond, not caring if the ends of her skirt got muddy, while holding onto a frog with both hands. Tyler was supposed to be useful. Not sitting on a fallen tree bark zoning out.
“Tyler,” she raised her voice. This time, he turns around to look at her.
“The cage,” she repeated sternly, standing up. The frog was slimy and itching to get away, but Wednesday only tightened her grip around it. Tyler finally walks up to her, opening the cover to the plastic tank, allowing her to drop the giant frog into it. It landed with a fat plop. Wednesday wiped her hands with some wet disposable tissues she brought, then took the plastic tank out of his hands.
Her large eyes peered into the tank, checking on her freshly-caught amphibian. “Did you know, the American Bullfrog is the largest in Vermont. I think this one weighs over a pound, at least. Perfect for dissection.”
“Mm, that’s great.”
Wednesday’s eyes darted up to stare at his face. Tyler had looked distracted the entire day. Not only was he generally rather unresponsive, his replies had been unenthusiastic. It was starting to annoy her. If he didn’t want to come, he should’ve just said so earlier.
“What’s wrong with you?” she asked.
He raised an eyebrow at her. “Nothing. If you’re done, I’ll drive you back?”
She resisted saying whatever, like one of those listless kids at school who’ll never amount to much. But throughout the car ride back, Tyler didn’t say a single word, only keeping his eyes on the road. Wednesday had once told him she didn’t mind the silence while they’re in the car, but now it was seriously beginning to bug her.
When she got out of the car, she expected his usual smile, or at the very least, a wave. Instead, all he mumbles is bye, and then drove off the moment she stepped out.
What the hell?
The next day, after class ended, Wednesday makes her way to the Weathervane. Maybe, Tyler just gotten up from the wrong side of his bed yesterday. If he apologised and put more effort into making her quad today, she would be willing to overlook his rudeness.
When she pushed open the doors to the Weathervane, she’s quick to register the fact that Tyler isn’t around. But no matter, she thought; he’s probably in the bathroom or the storage room. Her fingers reach up to press the little metal bell on the counter. A loud ding sounds in the air, and someone comes walking out from the storage room.
But the someone isn’t Tyler. It’s just Tyler’s co-worker, whose name escapes her because she doesn’t care to remember.
“Oh hey, it’s you, creepy girl,” said co-worker greeted lazily. “What would you like?”
What would she like? Ever since after the first day she entered the Weathervane, she has never had to repeat her order.
But instead of telling the guy, Paul, as per the lopsided name tag on his polo shirt, what she wanted to drink, Tyler’s name escaped her lips instead. She’s quick to add when she asks for him, “He knows my usual.” Her eyes scan the entrances of the bathroom and storage room again, almost willing Tyler to come out right about now, but there’s still no sight of him anywhere.
“He left.”
Her eyes zip back to Paul, the intensity of her stare immediately causing him to take a step back. “What do you mean?” she asked.
“He’s not working anymore. He left.”
Did Tyler just…quit the Weathervane? When did this happen? And why hadn’t he said a single word to her yesterday when they’d spent most of the afternoon together?
Her thoughts were interrupted when Paul started waving his chubby hand in her face. “Yo, if you’re not gonna order, do you mind stepping aside? You’re in the way of the line.”
Wednesday’s hands balled into tight fists, her eyes shooting him another death glare that most certainly caused him immediate discomfort. Then, she proceeded to march out of the café.
She came all this way from school, and not only did she not get to see Tyler, she didn’t even manage to get her quad.
“Enid, can I borrow your laptop?”
At her sudden request, Enid nearly falls off the edge of her bed. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Your laptop. I need to call Tyler.”
“Don’t you guys normally just make your plans at the Weathervane or something?”
Wednesday lets out a frustrated puff. “He quit.”
“He quit? Why?”
“That’s what I’ll like to know. I think he’s been avoiding me. I can’t seem to find him the last 2 days.”
“Maybe it might help if you, I don’t know…glare less at him?”
It only made Wednesday frown even harder at the werewolf, who recedes at once to open up her laptop. Enid went through her old chatlog and found Tyler’s name from months ago, when he first video called Wednesday. She clicked on it and tried dialling, but no one picked up. She tried a second time, and the result was the same.
“He’s avoiding me. He knows I’ll try to find him through you,” Wednesday said.
“Well,” Enid turns to look at her worriedly, “What are you gonna do?”
Wednesday is already walking towards her wardrobe to pull out her jacket. “He’s leaving me with no choice. I’m going to have to find him.”
“What, now? It’s almost dinnertime. How about tomorrow? There’s no school.”
But Wednesday was already out the door.
All throughout her walk, Wednesday kept running two theories across her mind as to why Tyler would be distancing himself from her. Her first thought was sheriff Galpin – after all, he had so clearly shown his dislike for her from the get-go, warning her more than once to stay away from Tyler. But every single time, Tyler had assured her that his father would never be able to come between them. She trusted him on this.
Her second theory, was that Tyler had somehow gotten bored or tired of her. Maybe he felt he had to tolerate her too much. Maybe his liking for her had waned and he’s now regretting all the things he once said about her, including how he found her kooky, or beautiful. It’ll explain his behaviour this past week, how he couldn’t wait to get away from her, to the extent of even quitting his barista job, just so he could put a distance between them.
Wednesday typically prided herself in her high self-esteem. But for the first time ever, she’s not so sure anymore. Unfortunately, it was the second theory that mostly prevailed in her head.
It took nearly an hour by foot, in the increasingly cold evening, to get to Tyler’s house.
When she arrived, she can distinctly see the dim, yellow light that illuminated his room. The rest of the house was dark, an indication that perhaps sheriff Galpin is out on another night shift. She didn’t give it a second thought when she decidedly started to climb up; it seemed faster and more direct than having to knock on the front door. When she made it, she peered in and could see that Tyler was asleep on his bed. It only succeeded in making her more frustrated. She had been trying to contact him, and here he was, hiding out in his room sleeping?
The window was ajar, a cool breeze coming through, providing ample ventilation for the room. Wednesday did not hesitate to slam the window upwards in one swift motion. The sudden loud slam immediately jolts Tyler awake, startling him. Propping himself up with an arm immediately and rubbing his eyes with his other hand, he blinks tiredly.
“W-Wednesday?” he asked, trying to focus on her. “What are you doing here?”
“You could at least grow a pair and tell me.” Wednesday had helped herself into his room by now, her face looking unimpressed.
“Tell you what?” Tyler started to open his mouth, but then quickly added on. “Wait, d-did you walk all the way here?”
“I did. And don’t change the subject.”
Tyler furrowed his brows. This was the first time she’d seen him visibly annoyed. “What are you – anyway look, can we please not do this now?” Wednesday could not be more flabbergasted. She had come all this way, walked the entire distance in the cold, not having eaten a single bite, and he wanted her to just leave?
As if sensing she’s becoming upset, he offered, “I’ll drive you back.” That came after a small sigh, which did not slip her by.
Was Tyler Galpin really intent on breaking up their relationship?
“Forget it,” she ultimately decided. She didn’t need him. She made her way here, she could make her own way back.
“Wednesday,” Tyler finally stood up. “It’s dark and cold out there. It’s not safe.”
“What do you care?” she spat. She didn’t miss the way he looked slightly taken aback, but it was still barely a reaction from him.
Wednesday turned around, already ready to crawl out of the window, when Tyler grabs her by the arm to stop her. His hand feels abnormally…warm.
“Please, Wednesday,” he started to plead with her again. This time, she stops to take a closer look at him. Something about Tyler isn’t right. She raised a hand to touch his face, shocked at how hot his skin was against hers.
“What happened to you?” she finally asked.
“I’m fine. Just sick.”
Suddenly, the guilt hits her like a ton of bricks. Tyler hadn’t been himself because he’d been unwell…not because he was purposely out to avoid her. But, what about the Weathervane?
“Since when?” she questioned.
Tyler lets out a cough. “Since two days ago? I knew I was coming down with something. I even tried going into work yesterday but I felt like shit, so I left after an hour into my shift.”
Wednesday made a mental note to spike Paul’s coffee another time when she gets the chance, but now, her attention was on Tyler. She did have a stronger body that most, and almost never ever fell sick. She can’t exactly empathise with him, but it certainly mustn’t feel good.
“Do you have medicine?”
“Just over the counter stuff,” Tyler cocked his head tiredly towards his table. Half-opened boxes and pill bottles laid bare, something she probably should’ve caught on the moment she came in through the window.
As she stood there feeling a wave of shame wash over her, Tyler had taken his jacket from his chair to drape them over her shoulders.
“You must be cold. Let me change and I’ll send you back.” Wednesday’s eyes softened at how, even when ill, Tyler was still trying to be the one to take care of her. Surely, she can do better than this.
“You can send me back later. Have you had dinner? You can’t get the nutrients you need to recover if you don’t eat.”
“Yeah, actually, I haven’t eaten much all day. It’s the fever and the flu. I just…feel like crap.”
The wheels in Wednesday’s head started to turn. “I can make us food. I haven’t eaten either.”
“Uh,” Tyler looks apprehensive, but also too weak to refuse, especially not with seeing the determination on her face. “Sure. I think we have canned soup.”
Wednesday nodded. She’d never actually really cooked before, unless grilling exotic meats like alligator or slicing jellyfish sashimi can be counted. Still, how hard could it be? She got Tyler to rest first, before venturing to the kitchen downstairs. As Tyler had told her, they did indeed have canned mushroom soup, sitting perfectly on the counter.
When Wednesday was done, she returns to Tyler’s room, tray in hand. He had dozed off, his body curled to a side. She wished she didn’t have to wake him, but he did have to eat. Gently, she pokes at his arm with a finger, until he stirs.
“Oh, you’re back.”
She holds the bowl of soup up in his face. “Sit up and drink this.”
Tyler nods weakly. When he drinks, he does it without a word of complaint. In fact, he finishes every last drop. Either he’s starving after all, or she actually did do a good job. She supposes having confidence is essential for every task, and concludes she shouldn’t even have doubted herself to begin with.
But when she brings her own bowl to her lips, she’s met with apprehension in Tyler’s eyes. At first sip, she already wants to spit it out. It was terrible; it was watery, bland, and over-seasoned with way too much pepper.
“You should’ve just told me it was bad. How can you even stomach this?” Wednesday says, almost embarrassingly.
“You made it for me,” he replied, as if that was all the reason he needed. It made her heart skip a beat, and also more regretful of how badly she managed to butcher the soup.
“Can I get you anything else?” she asked, watching Tyler lie back down again on his bed.
“I’m okay,” he assures, “I took my medicine earlier. I probably just need to rest.”
Tyler falls back asleep in a matter of seconds. During the time he was out, Wednesday had cleared their bowls and managed to find towels that she could wet to put on his burning forehead. Wednesday was no expert when it came to fevers and flus, but she had seen it before on movies and TV, and these were the few things about caregiving that she knew. As she decidedly accompanied Tyler through the night, she found chips in the kitchen which she ate. But mostly, she spent her time looking over him and dozing off next to his bed.
As her body temperature was cooler than most others, she also spent half the night holding onto his hand.
She isn’t sure, but she hopes it helped.
Wednesday only opened her eyes when she felt someone give her shoulder a hard shake. Her surroundings had visibly brightened and she’s aware that morning has come.
The someone turned out to be sheriff Galpin. “I don’t even want to know what this is, but you better be getting out of my son’s room.” At the commotion, Tyler was also stirred awake, him and Wednesday’s hands automatically letting go of each other’s.
With his hands on his hips, sheriff Galpin looked at the pair, as well as the cloth Wednesday had put on Tyler’s forehead earlier.
“Are you sick?” he asked his son.
“Nice of you to notice after two days,” Tyler rebuked unenthusiastically.
Seemingly not in the mood for an early morning altercation and after a night shift, sheriff Galpin simply tells Wednesday to get out, before he left the room. Tyler looked visibly apologetic and insisted to send her back, for real this time.
Wednesday is waiting out at the porch when Tyler emerged.
“Sorry, fever brain. Forgot my car keys.”
She looks up at him through her bangs. “Are you feeling any better?”
“Yeah, I am.”
Before she could say another word, Tyler had put his arms around her, gently pulling her into a hug.
“Thanks for staying with me throughout the night.”
It made her heartbeat quicken. She wrapped her own arms around him, closing her eyes momentarily and noting that his body temperature did indeed feel cooler now than the night before. And as always, hugging him feels incredibly comforting.
She looked up into his eyes, and instinctively tip-toed to want to kiss him. Tyler quickly draws back for just a bit.
“I’m still having the flu. I don’t want to-.”
But Wednesday had already pressed her lips onto his.
A few days later, it’s Wednesday’s turn to fall ill. It started out with a small cough while she was practicing fencing, but a day later when her nose started running and her throat hurt, she knows she’s down with the same bug that she’d most probably gotten from Tyler. Still, she doesn’t regret kissing him.
Whenever he didn’t have a shift, Tyler, now fully recovered, would come to her dorm to visit and take care of her. Since Enid’s away for class, and Thing could read the room better than anyone, it’s just the two of them whenever he comes over.
“I want to kill myself,” Wednesday said miserably. This was the worst she’s ever felt in her life, and it’s not even the good kind of torture.
Tyler had made her food, gotten her medicine and just as she’d done for him, he stayed by her side. He also reminds her multiple times that she’s not to cut her own nose off, and assured her that she’s going to feel better before she knows it.
As she drifted in and out of sleep, woozy from the medication, she quite distinctly remembers Tyler holding onto her hand. Even when he has to go, she gets to keep his jacket with her, and it almost feels as if he’d never left.
She falls asleep willing herself to get well, thinking of how Tyler has always been her comfort person and how she hopes she is his.