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Chapter Text

Wednesday did not hug people, unless it was a mere subterfuge to stab someone in the gut. Yes, close proximity was far easier to put someone ten feet under. So, when Enid barreled into her the way a rabid dog chasing a bone would, Wednesday was more than taken aback. She was outright appalled and ready to hiss at Enid for violating her boundaries in such a repugnant manner.

But when Wednesday kept Enid at an injured arm’s length and saw the blood and dirt caked onto her tear-stricken face, something inside of Wednesday shifted uncomfortably. Enid was hurt because she put her life on the line to save Wednesday. Enid wolfed out and fought the Hyde for her. Wednesday could have died tonight, but Enid saved her, and now it was her turn to be there for Enid.

Public displays of affection were the one thing worse than Wednesday’s severe allergy to color, and yet, she wrapped her arm around Enid and pulled her in before she changed her mind, feeling the little wolf hold on to her the way an anchor latched itself to the seabed. If any of their fellow students ever breathed a word of this, Wednesday would cut out their tongue and feed it to the wolves on the next full moon, even if said tongue belonged to one of them.

Enid was warm, similar to sitting in front of the fireplace and straying too close to the flames. Her nails clawed at Wednesday’s back with a desperate hunger, which was surprisingly not unpleasant. In fact, the slight scrape against her skin was a welcome gesture. Wednesday was vaguely aware of their fellow students watching them, so she closed her eyes to shut them out. All that mattered now was Enid.

Wednesday wasn’t sure how long they stood there, but when she opened her eyes, their peers were nowhere to be seen. Perhaps she had fallen into a coma, and this was nothing but a strange hallucination, conjured up by her subconscious.

“I-it hurts,” Enid whispered, whimpering. Wednesday knew right then it wasn’t a dream, for she would never dream of harming Enid. “Everything hurts.”

“I know,” Wednesday replied, familiar with the feeling of knocking on death’s doorstep. “I got you,” she told Enid, letting her lean on her shoulder.

The walk back to their dorm was slow, and with every step, Wednesday’s body ached. She felt the phantom of the knife twisting in her gut, despite Goody’s healing, and the way the arrow had lodged into her shoulder as she stepped in to save Xavier. If anyone was going to kill another student at Nevermore, it would be Wednesday, and only if she had a good reason to do so.

Enid limped, and Wednesday wished she had the strength to carry her, but she was no wolf. Making sure Enid was safe and looked after was the only thing keeping Wednesday from collapsing with her. She was indebted to Enid, and an Addams always paid their debts, one way or another.

A familiar sound of fingers pattering nearby caught up to them.

“Bath,” Wednesday mouthed at Thing.

Thing obliged, running along, disappearing into the fog.

When Wednesday and Enid reached their room, the space had filled up with steam and an overly sweet stench. The scent was so overwhelming that it almost drowned out the copper smell of blood. Almost, but not quite.

“W-Wednesday,” Enid gasped, eyes wide. “You’re bleeding.”

“Says you,” Wednesday replied, aware of her superficial arrow-induced wound, which was nothing compared to the gash on Enid’s neck and claw marks on her face. “The last thing you need to be doing right now is fret about me.”

“Of course I’m fretting! You’re my best friend, and you could’ve—” Enid’s words turned into a poorly muffled sob. “Wednesday, you almost…,” she whimpered, biting her lip.

“Hey,” Wednesday interrupted, taking Enid’s hands in hers, for Enid’s sake. “Enough of that,” Wednesday said, staring into Enid’s eyes, unsettled by the sight of her tears. “Please stop,” Wednesday pleaded when Enid’s sobs grew stronger.

“Enid,” Wednesday spoke through clenched teeth, feeling as powerless as she did the day her pet scorpion died. “Stop crying,” she demanded to no avail. “I’m alive,” she reminded Enid. “I’m alive,” Wednesday repeated, yanking Enid’s right hand closer and putting it against her chest.

The abrupt gesture put an excruciating strain on Wednesday’s need for personal space, but desperate times called for desperate measures. To her relief, the incessant tears stopped all at once. Finally, the torture that hurt more than being stabbed in the gut by a resurrected pilgrim had ceased.

“Wednesday, your heart…,” Enid whispered, staring at their joined hands. “Your heart is beating super-fast.”

“Satisfied?” Wednesday asked while she shoved Enid’s hand away, only to reach for it again the moment Enid lost her balance.

“There’s so much blood on you,” Enid said, trembling as she looked Wednesday up and down, and up again. “How are you still standing? How can you lose that much blood and not pass out?”

“My ancestor healed me,” Wednesday explained without delving into the details that would make someone as squeamish as Enid faint on the spot. “Now,” Wednesday pressed on, before being bombarded with a game of twenty questions. “Do you need a hand getting into the tub?”

Enid tripped over nothing but air.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Wednesday noted, though she had figured as much.

“You want me to get naked… I-in front of you?” Enid asked, holding on to her coat with one hand while the other remained firmly in Wednesday’s.

Enid’s shame was misplaced and unwarranted, but Wednesday understood and respected the need for privacy. Her offer was never meant to violate Enid’s boundaries, as surprising as it was to find out she had one after all.

“I won’t look at you,” Wednesday promised, having no interest in voyeurism. She would rather go blind than observe people in an undressed state. “My eyes will be on yours, Enid. You have my word.”

Wednesday guided Enid toward their bathroom, keeping her eyes on Enid’s, as promised, not once breaking eye contact. Enid wriggled a little while she tried to take off her coat with one hand, gaze flitting toward Wednesday one second and moving away the next, over and over as though she worried Wednesday would look elsewhere.

“Somehow, you staring at me like that makes me feel even more naked,” Enid broke the comfortable silence Wednesday enjoyed for the minute it lasted. “It’s like you’re looking into my soul,” Enid added with a shudder.

“Fine, I’ll close my eyes,” Wednesday compromised before her patience ran out.

“Y-you…you’d do that?” Enid blinked, staggering a step that nearly sent both of them over the edge of the tub. “...For me?”

Wednesday didn’t understand the tone of surprise. “Why wouldn’t I?” she countered, tightening her hold on Enid’s hand so she wouldn’t stumble backwards into the water and hit her head on the marble.

“Wednesday, I’ve never even seen you blink!”

***

Whatever it was that Thing did to make their bathroom smell similar to cotton candy and hot chocolate made it hard for Wednesday to breathe without gagging. She was never a sweet tooth, preferring the balanced flavors of a quad over ice.

Wednesday heard the water sloshing around in the tub, the telltale sign of Enid finally getting in. Perhaps now, Enid could let go of Wednesday’s hands, unless doing so would cause Enid to slip underneath the surface. Wednesday could endure a few more minutes of being touched, she had survived worse things than a roommate.

“You can open your eyes now,” Enid said, and when Wednesday did, Enid was hidden under a thick layer of pink foam, save for her head.

“A bath bomb, really?” Wednesday hissed at Thing, jerking her hands free. “She is injured.”

Thing dove out of the way, narrowly avoiding the boot that Wednesday threw at him.

Wednesday wet a washcloth in the sink, ignoring the way her shoulder ached as she wrung it out. Xavier shouldn’t have brought a bow and an arrow to a sword fight, but at least he tried to help, and as far as friends went, Wednesday supposed he had the potential to be one of hers. The same went for Bianca, who proved surprisingly helpful when her distraction allowed Wednesday to stab Crackstone in the heart.    

“This might sting,” Wednesday warned, dabbing Enid’s cheeks with the precision of a surgeon, careful not to rub the dirt into her wounds.

Enid smiled tiredly, and just when Wednesday thought she was going to fall asleep in the tub, Enid grabbed Wednesday’s wrist. It was gentle, not tight, and then Enid started rubbing circles with the pad of her thumb on the inside of Wednesday’s wrist.

Wednesday’s hand stilled. “What are you doing?”

“Feeling your pulse,” Enid answered while the warmth of her skin grew nearly unbearable. “It calms me, but if it’s too much, I can totally stop.”

“You may continue,” Wednesday decided, choosing to hold her tongue.

The white washcloth turned red from the blood Wednesday wiped away, revealing the severity of Enid’s injuries. Even with her wolf healing, she would be marked for life, covered in battle scars she valiantly earned.

“I need to stitch you up,” Wednesday said, discarding the washcloth. “Thing, get my medical kit and something for Enid to bite.”

Wednesday would offer Enid her hand to hold, but she needed both to thread the needle, and Wednesday preferred not getting her hand crushed by a sudden burst of wolf strength. She liked keeping her hands intact to write and play cello, among other things.

To Enid’s credit, she didn’t wince when Wednesday cleaned her wounds with alcohol. But that was the easy part.

“Not my snood,” Enid groaned when Thing offered it to her to bite down on.

“Shh,” Wednesday hushed, stuffing the snood in Enid’s mouth, which was better for both of them. “Try not to move,” Wednesday instructed as she prepared her tools.

Wednesday applied the sutures as quickly and precisely as she could, painfully aware of every tear rolling down Enid’s cheeks in the process. Wednesday had to brush away most of them to stop Enid from getting her stitches wet.

“All done,” Wednesday announced, brushing a strand of hair out of Enid’s face. Wednesday wasn’t sure why she did that, but it was too late to take it back.

It had to be the exhaustion, wearing Wednesday down and making it impossible for her to think clearly.

“Thanks,” Enid sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “Thanks, Thing,” she smiled when Thing handed her a tissue.

Wednesday held out her hands to help Enid out of the tub, looking only at Enid’s blue eyes. As soon as Enid managed to climb out and find her footing, Wednesday wrapped a towel around her.

“O-oh,” Enid whispered, glancing down. “This is your towel,” she commented, and it was, but Wednesday’s black towels made out of the finest Egyptian cotton were far more superior than those colored synthetic pieces of fabric Enid brought with her and ought to burn.

Wednesday put her hands loosely on Enid’s shoulders. “Do you feel steady enough to put on your pajamas by yourself?” Wednesday asked, needing to freshen up as well, and check whether she had to stitch up her shoulder or not.

Enid nodded and walked out of the bathroom. Her movements rivaled those of a snail, but she seemed strong enough to cross the small distance to her bed alone.

Wednesday filled the sink with cold water as soon as the door clicked shut. She gripped the marble edges and dunked her head under, opening her mouth to scream. Principal Weems was dead, and Enid nearly got herself killed protecting Wednesday. And what did Wednesday do? She left Enid alone in the woods.

When Wednesday finished freshening up and putting six stitches into her shoulder, she found Enid on her bed, surrounded by her stuffed animals, hugging her arms around her legs. It made Enid look smaller and younger, but not weak. Enid was many things, but weak was not one of them.

Wednesday grabbed the pillow and blanket from her bed, putting them down on the floor next to Enid’s bed to keep an eye on her, in case she ripped her stitches or wanted to talk.

Enid climbed out of bed and joined Wednesday on the floor, visibly grimacing in the process.

“What are you doing?” Wednesday asked, staring at Enid.

“If you’re sleeping on the floor, then I’m sleeping on the floor, too.”

Wednesday sat up. “You are not sleeping on the floor, Enid.”

Enid propped up her pillow. “Watch me,” she huffed, burying the back of her head into the pillow.

Stubborn little wolf, Wednesday thought as she got up. She resisted the urge to stomp her feet, considering it was something petulant children did, and Wednesday was not a child.

Wednesday extended a hand to Enid, pulled her upright, and guided her to the other side of their room. If Enid insisted on being in the same space, then Wednesday’s bed it was.

The beds at Nevermore weren’t meant for two, but Wednesday could prop herself up against the wall to circumvent that problem. Sore muscles were an acceptable price to pay after what Enid went through.

Enid stopped and stared. “Are you sure?” she asked, as if Wednesday holding up her blanket for Enid to crawl underneath wasn’t obvious enough.

“I’m not sleeping in your bed, and I’m not letting you sleep on the floor. My bed will have to suffice.”

Enid sat down on the edge of Wednesday’s bed, giving her a look she couldn’t quite decipher. If she had to venture a guess, she would say Enid was happy.

Wednesday often found herself to be right, but oh, how she had wanted to be wrong when Enid moved closer and cuddled with her. So this was what it was like to die a slow, agonizing death.

Within seconds, Enid was softly snoring. Wednesday wasn’t sure what to do with her hands in the odd position she found herself in. If Enid wasn’t hurt, Wednesday would have shoved her out of her bed and threatened to cut off her arms.

Wednesday’s skin felt as though it was on fire, trapped in the wolf’s embrace.

“Soft pillow,” Enid mumbled in her sleep.

“I’m not a pillow, Enid,” Wednesday said as the space between them grew non-existent. “Enid,” she hissed at the sleepy little wolf, who didn’t stir.

Wednesday made a mental note to buy a bed made out of pure silver and decorate it with wolfsbane. Lots and lots of wolfsbane.

***

Wednesday was nearly finished packing the bags – Enid’s, not hers – when the door creaked open.

Finally, after thirteen minutes and forty-one seconds, Enid had returned. Not that Wednesday was counting. No, she merely kept track in case Enid stayed away too long and Wednesday needed to organize a search party. One more minute and nineteen seconds, and she would have started breaking down doors.

“I talked to Ajax,” Enid shared with a sigh, and for a brief moment, her lips curled into a pout similar to the face a kicked puppy would make. “We decided we’re better off as friends than boyfriend and girlfriend.”

Wednesday wasn’t keen on getting involved in other people’s disgustingly saccharine need for intimate relationships, but Enid was already wounded. Wednesday didn’t want her roommate to bleed emotionally, too. She found no satisfaction in seeing Enid hurt. Others, however, such as a particular stoner, deserved to suffer.

“Are you okay?” Wednesday asked, taking a step closer in case Enid needed a hug to compose herself.

“Mhmm,” Enid nodded, sucking her lips into her mouth before releasing them with a wet pop. “I guess almost getting my neck snapped on my first night wolfing out was a bit too much for him, and it was nice while it lasted, but we have nothing in common.”

Wednesday’s nostrils flared. “Tyler tried to snap your neck?” she seethed through gritted teeth, and while Wednesday had no fangs or claws to speak of, she would find a way to tear out Tyler’s throat as violently and excruciatingly painful as possible.

“It’s fine,” Enid brushed off, running her fingertips across the wound that said differently. “I won.”

“Fine?” Wednesday spat with the venom of a thousand scorpions, and when Enid flinched, she regretted raising her voice at her. “That is far from fine, Enid,” Wednesday said, keeping her volume down despite the rage roaring in her chest. “You could have died, and Ajax turns his back on you?”

That spineless coward was never good enough for Enid, and this was indisputable proof.

Wednesday felt her nails digging into the palms of her hands, threatening to draw blood if she didn’t stop clenching her fists, but she didn’t care. “I will find Ajax and I will staple his snakes to the wall one by one,” she hissed, wanting to connect her fists with his face. “I will scoop out his eyes with a spoon and force them down his throat. I will—”

The sight of Enid smiling at her with twinkles in her eyes resembling the stars at night made Wednesday stop in her tracks.

“Why are you smiling?” Wednesday asked, and she wasn’t easily unsettled, but that smile was entirely unsettling. She needed Enid to stop looking at her like that immediately, before she turned gravely ill from whatever disease this was.

“Okay, please don’t smother me in my sleep for saying this,” Enid said, holding up her hands, which was ironic considering she was the one doing the smothering last night. “But you’re cute when you’re angry.”

Wednesday’s eyes widened at the insult. “Say that again, and I will put spiders in your bed.”

Wednesday was neither cute nor angry. She was furious, and while her threats were hardly taken seriously by her roommate, she would maim Ajax in a heartbeat if Enid allowed her to.

Enid frowned as she looked at her bed. “Are those my bags?”

“What an astute observation, Enid,” Wednesday deadpanned, staring at the hideously colorful suitcases.

“You went through my things while I was gone?” Enid said. Crap, Wednesday should have asked. “And you didn’t break out in hives?” Enid gasped, smiling in that way again. “Why, it’s a miracle!”

“One more word out of you, and I’m tying you to the roof along with your things.”

“You don’t fool me, Wednesday,” Enid shook her head. “I know you like me too much to go through with your threats.”

What a preposterous thing to say. Wednesday did not like people. At best, she tolerated a few.

“Say your goodbyes,” Wednesday said as she approached her roommate, who was smart enough to swallow. Hard. Finally, a modicum of respect for her frightful appearance. “We leave in five minutes.”

“Oh, okay,” Enid nodded and turned toward the door. “Wait,” she paused, whipping her head around, wincing as she did. “What do you mean, we?”

“I’m taking you home to stay with me.”

Enid blinked. “You’re…kidnapping me?”

“It’s not kidnapping if you go willingly.”

Chapter Text

Enid stared at her bags, mildly impressed that Wednesday managed to close them because all of her stuff barely even fit when she got here, and Enid had bought a few extra things since with the weekly allowance her dad sent her. Even her bed was stripped while she was only gone for like ten minutes, and granted, Wednesday had an extra hand, but it was a lot to pack. Which meant she must have started the moment Enid left their room to talk to Ajax.

“OMG, you’re serious!” Enid realized, looking at her roommate, who had been really kind and caring last night. “You want me to go with you to New Jersey? Right now?”

“Yes,” Wednesday confirmed, and Enid needed to pinch herself to check she wasn’t dreaming. “Unless you do not wish to spend ten weeks with me,” Wednesday backtracked, smoothing out the creases of her skirt with her hands, or at least that was what Enid assumed she was doing because she didn’t spot any.

Ten weeks? Oh, wow, okay, Enid didn’t know Wednesday was inviting her to spend their entire extended summer break together. Enid honestly wasn’t sure what to think or how to feel about going to the Addams’ family home, and staying there when it was probably scarier than any haunted house she had ever been in. But on the other hand, Enid didn’t want to go home and deal with her family’s questions and pressure now that she had finally wolfed out.

Her mom and dad would be happy that she did, perhaps even proud of her for defeating a Hyde, but it still wouldn’t be enough to live up to their standards. Especially her mom’s, who always reminded Enid of how much she was fitting out even with outcasts, when she should be fitting in. Enid was too cheery, too colorful, too different, too much. She was the black sheep of the family, or better yet, the rainbow sheep, and she was tired of having to pretend to be someone else when all she wanted was to be herself.

“Enid?” Wednesday prompted.

“I can’t,” Enid said while she gathered her thoughts, and for a second, Wednesday’s stoic expression changed as she visibly swallowed and nodded. “I can’t leave in five minutes,” Enid clarified, sorry that she didn’t make that clear right away, but in her defense, she had a lot to process because so much had happened in one day.

Enid wasn’t even sure she wanted to say yes to going with Wednesday, but she was sure she didn’t want to say no. Wednesday could ask pretty much anything right now, and Enid would probably say yes, unless it was something like torturing Ajax for breaking up with Enid when it was really a mutual decision. Sometimes people grew apart, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be friends, and everyone knew first crushes didn’t last.

Wednesday’s mask slipped back on. “Ten minutes?” she asked, and while she didn’t smile, Enid could tell that Wednesday was smiling on the inside.

“Wednesday, we can’t leave in ten minutes! We didn’t even have breakfast yet, and I’m starving. I need, like, a whole stack of pancakes. And don’t you want to say bye to everyone, too?”

“You have one hour,” Wednesday relented like the secret softie Enid knew she was. “Meet me at the gate when you’re done,” Wednesday added, turning on her heel.

“Oh, no. No, no, no,” Enid said, grabbing Wednesday’s hand, pulling her back with one well-measured tug. “You’re coming with me whether you like it or not,” Enid announced, smiling at her cute dark cloud of a roommate. “If you get to kidnap me, then it’s only fair that I get to kidnap you, too.”

“Enid,” Wednesday said, glancing down at the fingers Enid intertwined with Wednesday’s. “I will not tolerate handholding in public, or there will be consequences.”

“Sorry,” Enid grimaced, letting go of her best friend’s hand at once, whose slightly icy skin soothed Enid’s aching bones. “It won’t happen again. Cross my heart,” she promised, crossing her finger across her chest for good measure, “and hope to d—”

“Less talking, more walking,” Wednesday interrupted abruptly.

“O-kay,” Enid nodded. “Walking now.”

Enid thought that after their hug last night and Wednesday helping her get cleaned up, Wednesday had lowered her walls to let Enid in. They even cuddled, so she assumed she could be as affectionate with Wednesday as she was with her other friends. Apparently, Enid misjudged the situation because Wednesday was putting up a wall again, but that didn’t mean Enid was giving up on her.

Underneath Wednesday’s mask was someone sweet and soft and caring, who felt way more than she claimed. Enid hadn’t said anything last night because she didn’t want to make Wednesday uncomfortable, but Enid overheard Wednesday’s muffled screams coming from the bathroom, and Wednesday didn’t stop screaming for like three whole minutes. Enid knew her best friend was hurting last night, and she was sure Wednesday was still hurting right now.

***

The minute they went outside to get some air and food, Wednesday was approached by Bianca and Xavier, with the rest of the Nightshades not far behind, except for Ajax, who must have already left. It gave Enid the perfect opportunity to step away for a few minutes to call her mother, who had no idea that she wasn’t planning on coming home.

With a pit in her stomach, Enid looked through the contacts in her phone, finger hovering over her mother’s number. She could try her dad instead, but Enid knew he’d just give the phone to her mom because she always had the final say in everything. So, she bit the bullet and clicked call.

It only took two rings for Enid’s mother to pick up, which was much faster than usual.

“Hey, Mom, I’m calling to let you know I wolfed out last night,” Enid shared, starting with the part her mother would consider good news before bringing up what her mother would consider bad news.

“You did? Oh, that’s wonderful, honey. Murray, come here, our little pup wolfed out on a blood moon.”

“Yes, it’s…great. I’m finally normal, like you wanted me to be,” Enid replied, swallowing while she gathered her courage. “So, um, Wednesday invited me to stay with her.” And I already said yes, so don’t make me take it back now, she wanted to add, but didn’t. “Is it okay if I go? It’s only for ten weeks, and I’ve been away from home way longer than that many times.”

Silence.

If her mom said no, Enid could consider running away, but she was underage, and she didn’t want Wednesday’s parents to get in trouble for housing her without her parents’ consent. In hindsight, Enid should have gotten her mom and dad’s permission before saying yes to Wednesday, but she wasn’t thinking straight.

“You can go, on one condition,” her mom said just when Enid thought she might have hung up on her.

OMG, her mom said yes! Enid was going to spend ten weeks with Wednesday, where they could bond some more and maybe even do each other’s nails. Enid preferred pink and blue nail polish, but she’d totally let Wednesday paint her nails black as a compromise.

“I’ll let Wednesday know I can go,” Enid lied, and she wasn’t a good liar, but it was easier to lie over the phone. “What’s the condition?” she asked, biting her lip, hoping it wasn’t something uncomfortable like having to spend the next full moon at home to prove that she could wolf out.

“I want to hear from you every week.”

“Of course,” Enid agreed, surprised by the simple request. “I’ll call and text,” she promised, barely containing a squeal when she realized that this was really happening.

“Bye, honey.”

“Bye, Mom.”

When Enid hung up, she sensed someone behind her. She turned around, expecting it to be Wednesday, but it wasn’t.

“Oh,” Enid whispered, smile slipping. “It’s just you.”

“Happy to see you too,” Yoko said dryly.

Enid’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry!” she apologized hastily. “That was so rude of me, and I didn’t mean it like that! Of course I’m happy to see you!”

Yoko grinned, thankfully not seeming to take it to heart. “Who were you hoping for?” she questioned, tipping her tinted sunglasses down, staring at Enid in a way that didn’t even come close to Wednesday’s intense gaze.

“I thought you were Wednesday,” Enid admitted to her friend.

“Speaking of Wednesday, I’m surprised you made her go soft enough to hug you.”

Yoko had no idea just how soft Wednesday was, but Enid wasn’t about to tell her because it was private. Wednesday would hate it if people started gossiping about how she shared a bed with Enid, and she didn’t want that to happen either. What happened in their room was strictly between the two of them.

“Wednesday invited me to spend the summer at her place,” Enid revealed, because it would be hard to keep that part to herself if she was going to text Yoko every day and call her once or twice a week.

Yoko blinked before putting her sunglasses back on. “Pics or it didn’t happen.”

Enid gave her friend a playful push, relieved there were no bad reactions so far.

“Neat stitches, by the way,” Yoko commented. “Wednesday did a good job.”

“How did you know?”

“You weren’t in the infirmary,” Yoko answered, holding up one finger. “And they’re black,” she smiled, adding a second finger.

Enid didn’t realize her friend went looking for her in the infirmary, but it made sense why Yoko assumed she was there because the smell of Enid’s blood must have been extremely invasive to her vampire senses. She lost so much blood, it had to be at least two pints, but it was nothing compared to the blood Enid smelled on Wednesday last night. If Enid picked it up, then Yoko must have as well, along with every other werewolf and vampire.

Did someone go looking for Wednesday in the infirmary, too?

Enid gently touched the stitches on her cheek. “I think I’m going to have permanent scars once my wounds heal,” she sighed, grimacing a little at the thought of having a constant reminder of what happened.

“Nothing wrong with scars,” Yoko replied, which was true, but why did it have to be her face? They would be harder to hide there. “You’ll always be the second prettiest girl at Nevermore to me,” Yoko winked.

“Likewise,” Enid smiled at her friend, opening her arms for a hug.

“I’d be offended I’m not your number one,” Yoko said while she hugged Enid, “but after yesterday, I get it.”

“Don’t tell Wednesday I think she’s pretty,” Enid whispered in her friend’s ear. “She thinks compliments are insults, and I don’t want to wake up with a bunch of spiders in my bed.”

“Your secret is safe with me, E.”   

***

Enid joined Wednesday at the picnic table, smiling when she saw Wednesday wasn’t alone and hadn’t scared off the Nightshades. They were sitting on the other side of the table, but still, progress! Plus, it left plenty of space for Enid to sit with Wednesday.

Yoko walked over to Divina, leaned down, and kissed her. “Thanks for saving me a seat, babe,” Yoko hummed, moving to sit on her girlfriend’s lap.

“Anything for the shadow of my heart,” Divina replied while she wrapped her arms around Yoko’s waist.

Enid smiled, seeing two of her friends so happy together, like the song!

“There goes my appetite,” Wednesday grumbled, putting her cup of coffee down, which didn’t count as a meal.

“Hey, Enid,” Divina said while she smiled at Enid. “How are you feeling, sweetie?”

“A bit sore,” Enid answered, still recovering from her transformation and the aftermath that followed. “But I slept really well,” she added, wanting Wednesday to know she helped by letting her cuddle all night and letting Enid sleep until she woke up.

Enid wasn’t sure how long Wednesday had slept, just that she was already awake when Enid scrambled up in the few seconds it took her to remember why she was in Wednesday’s bed. During the many nights they slept in the same room, Enid hadn’t witnessed Wednesday sleeping even once because she was always still up when Enid went to sleep and awake by the time she woke up. If Enid didn’t know any better, she would have thought that Wednesday was a vampire.

“How about you, Wednesday?” Bianca asked. “Are you okay?”

“Aside from the nauseating view, I am fine,” Wednesday answered, glaring at Yoko and Divina.

“Sure,” Yoko grinned, revealing a glimpse of her fangs. “Give it a few months.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Bianca sighed heavily. “I am not betting with you again,” she told Yoko. “Or you,” Bianca added, looking at Divina.

“Can’t blame us for having a radar that you don’t, Barclay,” Divina smirked.

Enid wanted to ask what they were talking about, but then her stomach started growling, reminding her of how hungry she was. She didn’t know how much time she had left from the one hour Wednesday had agreed to give her, so she should probably hurry up and eat. It was a long drive to New Jersey, after all. Seven hours in a car did sound better than six hours on a plane home to San Francisco with an overlay in Iowa, though.

“Here,” Wednesday said, sliding a tray full of food under Enid’s nose. “I ordered you a few things while you were busy,” Wednesday explained, which was one of the sweetest things anyone ever did for Enid.

There were cheese and ham sandwiches, and eggs both scrambled and boiled, and waffles with chocolate and syrup on the side, and croissants that made Enid’s mouth water, and a stack of fluffy pancakes, and bacon, and strawberries, and OMG, there was no way this was all just for her.

“You shouldn’t have,” Enid gasped, staring at the mountain of food, which easily cost as much as the allowance she got in a month. “Thank you, Wednesday. You are the best... Friend of mine,” she tried to recover, but it was hard to mask a compliment.

Maybe Enid should stop talking and start eating before blurting out something that would piss off Wednesday and make her revoke her invitation.

“You don’t have anything to drink,” Xavier commented, and he was right, but it was okay. Enid could get something to drink after breakfast. “Do you want my water?” Xavier offered, pointing at the unopened bottle of water next to his coffee.

Wednesday stood up. “I will be right back,” she announced, no doubt about to buy way too much.

“No, Wednesday, you don’t have to do that,” Enid said, resisting her instinct to reach for Wednesday’s hand again. “Sit,” Enid requested, smiling when her best friend listened.

Enid shifted her gaze from Wednesday to the other side of the table, catching Yoko sharing a look with Divina.

“Water sounds good, thank you, Xavier,” Enid accepted, grateful for the gesture and the potential friendship.

“Don’t mention it. It’s the least I can do for the newest member of the Nightshades.”

“If you accept our invitation to join, that is,” Bianca chimed in.

“I’d love to join!” Enid replied, happy to be included.

“Our offer still stands for you, Addams,” Bianca said.

“I shall reconsider my decision,” Wednesday replied, and it would be so great if they could be in a secret club together because it honestly wouldn’t be the same without Wednesday. “You will receive my final answer upon my return.”

Enid had ten weeks to persuade Wednesday that she belonged with the protectors of Nevermore. Wednesday was an Addams, a legend, and while Bianca made sense as the leader of the Nightshades, Wednesday should be assigned as co-captain. She’d have Enid’s vote and full support.  

But first, Enid really had to put something in her stomach. And Wednesday’s, if she could.

Enid bit into one of her croissants, moaning at the yummy flavor of freshly baked goods flooding her tongue. “Swo gwood,” she said around a mouthful, glancing at Wednesday only to find her staring. “You should…,” Enid swallowed her food, “try one of these.”

Before Wednesday could respond, Enid held one croissant out to her and smiled so much her cheeks hurt. She couldn’t help herself, though, considering what a wonderful day she was having. And it wasn’t even noon yet!

When Wednesday snatched the croissant out of her hand with a look that could kill, Enid worried Wednesday would throw it away and leave their table to start collecting the spiders she wanted to put in Enid’s bed.

“Stop making that face,” Wednesday snapped. “It’s…unacceptable.”

Enid relaxed her cheeks, clearing her throat as she reached for her tray. “Boiled egg?”

“Girl, I think she’s about to boil you,” Bianca commented while she got up. “It was nice knowing you, Sinclair.”

Chapter Text

Taking Enid with her was not Wednesday’s intended plan to spend her break, putting a halt to her desire to track down a serial killer and dismember them. Alas, this was the only choice to keep Enid safe, in case Tyler broke free and came looking for revenge. Enid nearly died the first time, and Wednesday would rather jump off a cliff than give him a second chance.

It was a relief Enid chose to go willingly, avoiding the need for more drastic measures. Wednesday had expected as much, however, considering Enid was obviously not fond of going home, and for good reason. What kind of mother wanted to send her child to a conversion therapy camp? It was cruel, and not in a pleasant way. Furthermore, there was nothing wrong with Enid, aside from her questionable taste and incessant urge to smile with the burning intensity of the sun.

“You keep bouncing your leg,” Wednesday noticed, mildly annoyed by the repetitive distraction, which had lasted nearly two minutes now. “Do we need to pick up flea shampoo?”

“I do not have fleas, Wednesday!” Enid exclaimed, gasping as her leg stilled. “I’m just nervous, and you would be too if you were going to spend ten whole weeks with my parents–okay, you wouldn’t be, but I am. Nervous.”

Wednesday shut the book she was reading, which was rather anticlimactic anyway, considering the murder scenes hardly had detailed depictions of the victims’ suffering. “How can I help?” she asked, unable to endure seven hours of this without leaving Enid on the side of the road.

“Could you…,” Enid swallowed, fidgeting with those warm hands of hers that gave Wednesday something comparable to a sunburn whenever Enid touched her. She was wearing the same fuzzy orange and pink striped sweater she had on during their first night as roommates, but without the hideous floral skirt. Instead, Enid had paired it with soft light blue trousers, which was a small upgrade.

“Could you…,” Enid started again as though she didn’t have Wednesday’s full attention the first time. “Maybe sit here…with me?” Enid asked, gesturing at the empty space to her right.

Wednesday failed to see how moving to sit next to Enid as opposed to across from her could be construed as calming. Enid did, however, exhibit a strange fondness for touching others, which was evident when she embraced Yoko earlier today. Quite long, in fact. Perhaps Enid would prefer spending ten weeks with Yoko instead, seeing how she did replace Wednesday with that leech once.

“Wednesday, are you mad at me?” Enid sighed audibly. “You don’t have to sit next to me if you don’t want to. I was just saying how you could help me with my nerves,” she launched into an unwarranted explanation, considering there was no anger to speak of. “And I know you want everyone to think you’re scary, and sometimes you are, but I like being near you because you…you’re fearless. Nothing ever rattles you.” 

Flattering words, but Enid was mistaken, for there was one thing that did frighten Wednesday. In her sixteen years on this miserable landscape, she was no longer impervious to such a weakness. The mere thought of losing Enid, despite Wednesday wanting to tape her mouth shut sometimes, was unbearable. As she had told Enid, the mark she had left on Wednesday was indelible. It was permanent, impossible to erase.

Perhaps this was the price Wednesday had to pay for friendship.

“Earth to Wednesday?” Enid called out, piercing the silence Wednesday’s mind began to wander in.

Wednesday moved to sit next to Enid, thighs brushing as she did. “Satisfied?” Wednesday checked, putting a hand on Enid’s knee to help ease her jitters.

“Mhmm,” Enid hummed, lips curling up to form that treacherous smile. “If this were an Uber, I’d rate you five stars. Or four, because you did accuse me of having fleas.”

Wednesday tried to look out the window for possible roadkill to add to her collection or a hitchhiker to run over, but her eyes kept traveling back to Enid, mapping the stitches in case there was any sign of infection. It was unlikely there would be, though, considering Wednesday had often patched up her brother after a bad scrape.

“Hey, Wednesday? Why are you hesitating to join the Nightshades?”

“Social gatherings are not how I prefer to spend my time,” Wednesday answered, unwilling to participate in something as trivial as rooftop parties and skinny dipping, unless there was a piranha-infested lake she could push the others into to see whether a siren could outswim them without losing their tail. “Besides, I have already refused their offer once,” Wednesday explained, in case that wasn’t glaringly obvious during their atrocious breakfast, where she was forced to swallow a far too buttery and sugary croissant. “Taking it back would be a sign of weakness.”

“I honestly doubt they would see it that way after you saved our school,” Enid replied, though Wednesday would argue it was a joint victory, considering she wouldn’t have succeeded without Enid, Eugene, and Bianca.

“We saved Nevermore,” Wednesday corrected, imagining how many outcasts could have died if Enid hadn’t stopped Tyler so Wednesday could run to the school to stop Crackstone.

Bianca would have faced the pilgrim alone, and while she was an adequate adversary, it took both of them to send him back to hell. Without Wednesday, they would be digging a grave for whatever was left of Bianca, and vice versa. Wednesday hated to admit it, but it was nice to have people who had her back, even if one of them made her take an arrow to the shoulder.

Xavier was a nice guy, but in the end, as Wednesday had always suspected, all boys were stupid.

“Perhaps there is value in teaming up,” Wednesday reconsidered, willing to join on the condition Eugene received the same offer. “But I will not sample one of Yoko’s virgin mojitos.”

“Ooh, I had one of Yoko’s virgin mojitos when we were roommates,” Enid shared with an increased amount of decibels. “It was so good! She’s really great at mixing drinks.”

Wednesday furrowed her brows at the information her roommate hadn’t divulged before, despite Enid’s unrelenting tendency to mention every detail of each day, to the point where Wednesday wanted to stuff cotton balls in her ears. If Enid had kept that part of sharing a room with Yoko to herself, then it was plausible that there was more she had neglected to tell.

“Will you be moving in with Yoko after our break?” Wednesday asked, and as soon as the question passed her lips, she felt her jaw tense.

“Of course not. I already told you I would never,” Enid answered, and while she wasn’t wrong for once, that happened before her rather intimate hug with Yoko, who Wednesday had noticed eyed Enid quite frequently. “You’re the only roommate I’ll ever want. Pinky swear.”

Enid lifted her left hand, wiggling her littlest finger as she shifted on the cushion until she was sitting a bit sideways. Wednesday stared at the odd gesture, which held no relevance to strengthen the statement Enid had made. A blood oath, on the other hand, would be an acceptable offer.

Enid wiggled her pinky again. “This is the part where you put your finger around mine to lock it in,” she said, smiling in a way that made her eyes brighter, activating her secret weapon. “Unless…you actually want me to move in with Yoko.”

Before Enid could let her hand slip the way her smile did, Wednesday grasped her finger with enough force to bruise. It was too rough, but she couldn’t allow Enid to believe she wanted her gone because, as much as Wednesday enjoyed solitude, she didn’t want to be alone or end up with a new roommate she’d have to mysteriously disappear.  

“Whoa…,” Enid whispered, opening and closing her mouth. “For a second, your eyes turned completely black.”

Wednesday let go of Enid’s finger, keeping her other hand on Enid’s knee for now in case Wednesday had unintentionally upset her, seeing how her actions did erase Enid’s smile faster than snow in the sun.

“We should put up more decorations when we return,” Wednesday suggested, shifting her gaze to peer out the window to check for road signs indicating how long it had been since they left, considering she lost track of time.

“I’d love to add more decorations!” Enid exclaimed, and Wednesday didn’t need to look at her to know her smile had returned because she could hear it in Enid’s voice. “We could hang up lights, and maybe we can put tiny spider stickers on your side of the window or those little moons that glow in the dark. It would look so cu— cool.”

Stickers were for little children seeking validation from their teachers, and their room was bright enough without lights. Glow-in-the-dark adhesives were perhaps tolerable to accept, though not on Wednesday’s half. She preferred her dreamless sleep to remain immersed in a darkness equal to the black void in her chest.

“I have a collection of skulls and daggers I believe will improve the view,” Wednesday shared while her eyes landed on a road sign, indicating approximately half an hour had gone by.

“But we’re not allowed to keep weapons in our room. You could get expelled for that.”

“You’re right,” Wednesday replied, though that hadn’t stopped her thus far, and if they wanted to expel her, they had to find them first, which they wouldn’t. “Skulls it is,” she decided, snapping her eyes back to Enid, checking her stitches.

“I’m going to text Yoko before she gets on her plane,” Enid announced, and with some luck, it would be a turbulent flight ending in an explosion. “Should I tell her you said hi?”

Due to their close proximity, Wednesday couldn’t help but notice the pink heart next to Yoko’s name on the screen. “You can tell her I recommend the garlic bread,” Wednesday replied, looking away from Enid’s phone, before seeing something even more nauseating.

Hearts were generally reserved for lovers, which Yoko and Enid were not, considering Yoko had chosen to court Divina. Enid’s friendship with Yoko was obviously quite significant to Enid if it warranted that kind of emoji, in her favorite color, no less. Not that Wednesday cared how Enid seemed to miss Yoko after less than an hour apart.

Enid’s hand slowly crept down her thigh, inching toward Wednesday’s, where it rested on Enid’s knee, stopping when Wednesday glared at her. She thought Enid was satisfied with the offered touch, but her deliberate movements claimed otherwise.

Sighing, Wednesday turned her palm upward, allowing Enid to hold her hand for one last time. Enid’s fingers were warmer than before, sliding across Wednesday’s skin before intertwining with hers. When Enid squeezed, Wednesday felt as though the same was being done to her throat. She tried to regain control of her body, swallowing the discomfort churning in her stomach.

If Wednesday could survive a night being smothered with cuddles, she could endure a few hours of holding hands.

“I feel better now,” Enid exhaled, tilting her head until it rested on Wednesday’s shoulder. “Thanks, Wednesday,” Enid mumbled, followed by a yawn.

Wednesday wasn’t pleased to be turned into a pillow again, but at least she wasn’t being smothered entirely this time, and the silence that followed was a welcome reprieve. She tried to pry her fingers free to no avail, concluding that Enid’s hold was simply too strong to overpower without hurting her. Wednesday didn’t understand how Enid could sleep right now when Wednesday was up all night watching her sleep.

The weight of Enid’s head against Wednesday’s injured shoulder made her wound ache. The pain was bearable but slightly more present than the dull one of the stab wound Goody healed. Wednesday hated that in order to be healed, she had to give up her guide before she had the chance to truly get to know her ancestor, who was the only other raven that she knew of. Wednesday needed her and now she was gone, and so was Principal Weems.

Nevermore would never be the same without Weems, who died because she believed in Wednesday and went with her to confront Thornhill. Wednesday looked up to Weems, no pun intended. Weems was the parental figure Wednesday didn’t realize she had until she lost her, which left her feeling angry and sad, sitting with all of this grief in her chest. Wednesday wanted to scream, but couldn’t if she tried.

Wednesday’s eyelids felt heavy, fluttering against her will. She tried to pry them open, but she only had one hand, and as soon as she opened one, the other closed. Wednesday knew she was fighting a losing battle, where soon, she would be forced to yield.

Maybe just a couple of minutes then.

***

Wednesday’s eyes snapped open when she felt someone shaking her shoulder, and to her horror, the car had stopped moving. Her second realization hit her when she noticed Enid was still holding her hand with the other positioned on her lap, meaning she wasn’t the one who had awoken Wednesday.

Mentally preparing an explanation, Wednesday turned to look at the hand, breathing a genuine sigh of relief when she saw it was Thing rather than her mother and father, who would not let Wednesday hear the end of this unusual occurrence.

“We’re here,” Thing signed, pointing at the door.

“I can see that,” Wednesday replied flatly, still tired. “Thank you for waking me,” she told Thing, eternally grateful to him for sparing her the indignity of being caught in such a compromising position. “I trust we will not speak of this.”

“My lips are sealed,” Thing obeyed, throwing away an invisible key.

“You may expect several gifts soon,” Wednesday promised, as a token of her gratitude.

It wasn’t Wednesday’s intention to sleep until they arrived, let alone in such an awkward position, but her exhaustion was too overwhelming. Her body begged to go into a temporary coma, long enough to erase the aching feeling clinging to her bones. Nonetheless, Wednesday would rather die than have her parents find out she allowed someone to touch her and let them live to tell the tale. Repeatedly, she might add.

“Enid,” Wednesday said while she nudged Enid’s side. “Enid, wake up,” Wednesday insisted, shaking their joined hands.

When Enid failed to respond to Wednesday’s gentle methods, she raised Enid’s hand and bit down on the soft skin above her knuckles.

“Ow, what the heck!?” Enid exclaimed, yanking her hand away, awake at last. “Did you seriously just bite me?”

“I wanted to let you know it’s time to get out,” Wednesday explained, though if she could take it back, she wouldn’t. Enid was fine, Wednesday didn’t bite hard enough to draw blood.

“I can’t believe you bit me,” Enid whispered, but they had been over this already.

Wednesday smoothed the collar of her blouse to get rid of the creases, holding back a wince as she brushed over her injured shoulder. “Thing will run along and inform my parents of your arrival,” she announced, glancing at Thing, who took the cue and jumped toward the door.

Enid’s eyes widened. “Please tell me you’re kidding and you didn’t drive me all the way out here to stay with you without asking your parents for permission first.”

“I didn’t drive,” Wednesday stated matter-of-factly. “Lurch did.”

“Wednesday!” Enid groaned, revealing her claws. “Ugh, I can’t with you. You’re so…,” she trailed off, shaking her head. “So…”

“So?” Wednesday pressed, somewhat amused by Enid having ruined the car cushion without noticing.

It was fascinating how sharp Enid’s claws were, how she could slice things without effort, even in her human form. Wednesday had read several books about werewolves to expand her knowledge on things that went bump in the night, but those were nothing compared to observing one up close.

“Do not taunt me when my claws are out,” Enid warned with a fire in her eyes that was most intriguing. “I could nick you, or worse.”

Wednesday almost smiled at the thought of Enid leaving a permanent, tangible mark on her. Perhaps this would be an interesting summer after all.

***

“Mother, Father,” Wednesday greeted her parents. “You remember my roommate, Enid.”

“Yes, of course,” Wednesday’s mother smiled. “You’ll have to excuse us, Enid. We haven’t finished preparing a room for you yet, seeing how our daughter forgot to mention she wasn’t returning alone.”

Wednesday’s mother should be pleased that she wasn’t on the other side of the country, spending her summer break keeping an eye on Enid’s house. The only reason Wednesday chose to go home instead was because she could stand Enid’s family even less than her own, though Wednesday wasn’t intent on giving her parents the satisfaction of telling them.

“I’m really sorry for the inconvenience,” Enid said while she wrung her hands together.

“There is no need to apologize,” Wednesday’s father replied. “Any friend of our dear Wednesday is welcome to stay with us.”

“Whoa,” Pugsley gasped as he rushed down the stairs, staring at Enid. “You look ghastly!” Pugsley praised, smiling from ear to ear. “What happened to your face? Did you fight a bear?”

“She saved me from a Hyde,” Wednesday informed her brother, and by extension, her parents. “I would not be standing here in this mortal realm if it weren’t for Enid.”

Wednesday’s mother reached out to Enid, squeezing her shoulder. “Thank you for being such a good friend to our dark little angel,” Wednesday’s mother spoke with a kindness that Wednesday knew her mother didn’t have.

“Nuestra casa es tu casa,” Wednesday’s father told Enid.

Before her family smothered Enid with more of the hospitality Wednesday knew she enjoyed for some reason, she decided to show Enid around.

“I will give Enid a tour and do not wish to be disturbed,” Wednesday announced, moving toward the stairs. “We’ll see you for dinner later,” she added, turning to look at Enid, who stood frozen in place.

“Oh…okay,” Enid said, catching up. “Uh, thanks for letting me stay, Mr. and Mrs. Addams.”

When Wednesday reached the top of the stairs, she noticed Enid covering the stitches on her cheek with her hand. Wednesday paused, frowning at Enid’s strange behavior.

“My face looks horrible,” Enid exhaled, eyes shimmering with a wetness that made Wednesday want to murder someone. “I’m going to need so much make-up to hide my scars once my wounds are healed.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Enid,” Wednesday said, confused as to why Enid would want to conceal something so dreadfully alluring. “Your face is perfect,” Wednesday assured the heroic little wolf, who spared her from dying a boring death at the hands of a spiteful boy, who got his silly feelings hurt when Wednesday stomped on his heart like she said she would.  

Enid dropped her hand. “Am I dreaming, or did you just compliment me?”

“It’s not a compliment, Enid,” Wednesday said as she walked on. “It’s a fact.”

Chapter Text

Enid knew the Addams family was well off because they had a personal driver and Wednesday was never short on cash to buy things, but Enid had no idea they were insanely rich. The driveway alone from the black iron gates with Addams spelled out at the top, to the front door with the bronze skull with a loose jaw as a door knocker, was three times bigger than the three-bedroom cabin Enid grew up in with her four older brothers, where she slept in the attic next to a pile of boxes filled with old clothes from when she and her siblings were little. Enid’s parents kept everything that wasn’t completely washed out or unraveling, to hand down to their grandkids one day, adding to the pressure where she had to find a mate and have a big family to add to the pack.

But Enid wasn’t sure if she even wanted that because she wasn’t like them. She didn’t want a daughter who’d have to carry the weight of the same expectations she did, or a son who might be pushed into leading the pack one day. Enid wanted a life where she could be herself, without having to follow in her parents’ footsteps and live under her mother’s thumb for years and years. Thankfully, she had four more years until graduation to consider standing up to her mom and risk getting kicked out of the pack, and while that might not be the worst thing, Enid did love her family and didn’t want to end up a lone wolf.

“This is the Moonlit Manor,” Wednesday shared while she gestured at the first door on the right, which had a gorgeous tree with orange and green-colored leaves carved into the mahogany.

It sounded like a lovely room, based on the name, and Enid wondered what it was used for. Maybe it had the most moonlight or strings of lights everywhere to create a luminous atmosphere that would be perfect for movie nights, but when Wednesday opened the door little by little like she really wanted to build up anticipation before the big reveal, all Enid saw was darkness. The second thing she couldn’t help but notice right away was the warm air, as if someone had turned on the heating during the winter and forgotten to turn it off again.

A light flicked on, and before Enid had the chance to observe and process what was inside, something flew past her head and brushed against her hair. She screamed and ducked, expecting more of what she thought was a bat annoyed by the intrusion, but when Wednesday caught the little creature, Enid noticed it was fluffy, like a hamster or a bunny.

“There is no need to be frightened, Enid,” Wednesday said as if she didn’t do that on purpose when she absolutely did. “This is Erebus,” the menace shared while the animal held on to her fingers. “He’s a Black Beauty sugar glider.”

He was a beauty indeed, with his shiny dark grey coat, which had a black stripe that started between his eyes and ended where his fuzzy black tail began. There were dark circles around his beady black eyes, like a raccoon, and he had a cute pink nose, and pink little hands and feet he continued to use to cling to Wednesday, who had to be his person.

“You didn’t tell me you had a pet,” Enid commented, watching in awe as Wednesday stroked the little guy’s head with a rare tenderness, and there was no way Yoko would believe Enid once she told her without a few pictures and a video to back her up.

“I distinctly recall mentioning my menagerie of pets,” Wednesday replied while her fingers stilled, which was sad for Erebus, who must have missed her a lot. “It was my first day at Nevermore, you were giving me a tour when a moron approached us, and—”

“Okay, your memory is literally insane,” Enid said, blinking at her best friend. “I thought you were kidding.”

“Wait,” Enid realized a beat later. “Pets? As in plural?”

“You might want to duck again,” Wednesday suggested with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, “seeing how squeamish you were the first time.”

Why did Wednesday say that like something not so cute was about to appear?

Enid followed Wednesday’s gaze as her eyes left hers, traveling toward a tree in the corner of the room that reached all the way up to the ceiling, watching as a tiny creature jumped from the top. When it glided through the air like it had its own invisible little parachute, Enid saw it was the same species as Erebus, but in a completely different color, aside from the matching black eyes.

“This is Nyx,” Wednesday introduced the white sugar glider while she caught it with her other hand. “She’s a Leucistic sugar glider,” she explained, and Enid had no idea what that word meant, but she guessed it had something to do with Nyx’s color.

What Enid did know was that Erebus and Nyx were kind of cute and definitely not scary or dangerous. There was no way those little furballs could eat people, let alone injure them, and the longer Enid looked at them, the more she wanted to hold one or even both, if Wednesday let her.

Enid had secretly and not so secretly always wanted a pet, but her mother thought it was ridiculous for her to have one because her mother believed pets and wolves didn’t mix. When Enid was about nine or ten, she found a kitten that was stuck in the mud and brought it home, but her mother forced her to give it away to some normie kid, and told Enid to never pick up strays again or else she would be grounded.

“Can I?” Enid asked, holding out her hands while she stepped closer. “Pretty please?” she added, smiling as she gestured at Nyx so Erebus could get more of the little head rubs from Wednesday he seemed to enjoy.

“Careful,” Wednesday warned, but Enid would never hurt Wednesday’s pets. “She bites.”

“Oh,” Enid whispered, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “So, she takes after you then?” she noted with a chuckle, and while she could laugh about it now, it wasn’t funny when it happened. “I see.”

Wednesday blinked, and her cheeks had the faintest pink blush, but that had to be the heat because it was really warm in this particular room, and it was getting to Enid, too. She definitely picked the wrong day to wear her favorite sweater.

Enid gently moved the back of her index finger across the top of Nyx’s head, smiling when Nyx nestled herself around her thumb, and even though they had just met, Enid could tell that they were going to be inseparable during her stay. Nyx was an adorable little creature, and so was Erebus, who’d get his turn, too.

“She usually bites,” Wednesday insisted, and Enid believed her, but Nyx clearly had more self-control than Wednesday.

The names Erebus and Nyx sounded vaguely familiar, and Enid was pretty sure she stumbled across them somewhere at some point in her life, but her brain wasn’t really braining right now.

“Sugar gliders are marsupials,” Wednesday mentioned as she put Erebus on one of the branches of the tree. “They live mainly on insects, vegetables, fruit, and meat.”

“Oh, like koalas?” Enid replied, happy to learn more about Wednesday’s fascinating pets. “Minus the diet, I mean,” Enid added, because koalas were herbivores with a hunger for eucalyptus leaves.

Wednesday nodded. “Erebus and Nyx are nocturnal and thrive in a warm environment,” she shared, which explained the furnace-like temperature. “Their bedroom is kept at 84 degrees Fahrenheit to maintain their health.”

Enid’s mind tripped over the temperature, but even harder at the part where two tiny little furballs had a bedroom all to themselves. Back home, Enid would kill for just one room that didn’t double as storage space.

Compared to the tin can in San Francisco that Enid was relieved she didn’t have to spend her summer break in, the Addams family mansion was ginormous beyond any house she had ever seen, like a spookier, more haunted version of Nevermore. Enid faintly wondered if Wednesday had a map of her house, in case Enid needed to use the bathroom and got lost looking for one.

Enid kind of wanted to keep an eye on Wednesday, though, to protect her because multiple people had tried to murder Wednesday. And with all due respect to Wednesday’s family, they couldn’t keep her safe the way that Enid could, especially during a full moon. Plus, Wednesday had the annoying habit of seeking out trouble and putting herself in harm’s way. But Enid wasn’t going to allow that to happen on her watch.

“Sweet girl,” Enid whispered to Nyx, who was moving like she wanted to go elsewhere. “Is this where you want to be, hm?” she guessed, bringing Nyx closer to the tree. “You missed Erebus, didn’t you?”

Enid backed up a few steps, fanning herself with her hands, but it wasn’t enough. She had to take off her sweater before she melted into a puddle of sweat.

“What are you doing?” Wednesday asked the second Enid crossed her arms and grasped the hem of her sweater.

“I’m not getting naked, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Enid answered while she lifted the bottom. “I’m wearing a top underneath,” she explained, though with her sweater slightly raised, Wednesday could see so for herself.

Enid tilted her head up, groaning at the way her skin strained against her stitches.

“Stop that,” Wednesday bristled. “You’ll ruin my work.”

“But I’m hot,” Enid whined when Wednesday slapped her hands.

“I don’t care how hot you are, Enid,” Wednesday replied, apparently wanting her to faint from the heat. “You have to be careful.”

“If I can dress myself, then I can also undress myself,” Enid pointed out.  

“Yet here you are, wearing two layers of clothing.”

Enid groaned at how impossible Wednesday was being, pushing her buttons like she was daring Enid to push back, and if Wednesday kept this up all summer, she just might.

***

Enid was sure she hadn’t even seen half of Wednesday’s home yet, but the rumbling of her stomach got so loud that Mrs. Addams overheard it and insisted on moving on to the dining hall. It was a surprise she was hungry at all after Wednesday showed her the souvenir room, which was a space filled with body parts preserved in jars in a greenish liquid, straight out of a horror movie. The sight made Enid run out before she got too lightheaded and had those pungent smelling salts shoved underneath her nose again. And in different circumstances, she would have passed on food, but she did sleep through lunch, and she needed the calories. Plus, it would be rude to say no to Wednesday’s mother while she was under her roof.

The dining hall was larger than Enid’s home, with a table the length of a bus. Black chandeliers dangled from the ceiling with sparkling obsidian diamonds, holding lit candles that matched the yellow-ish ones spaced out on the table. There was no electricity or a sign of a light switch on the painted doves on the black wallpaper, so Enid figured they either chose not to use electricity in every room or didn’t have it everywhere.

But what caught Enid’s eye the most was the buffet that Wednesday’s parents had prepared. There was a pig on a silver plate with an apple in its mouth, a black bowl the size of a sink filled with white rice, four black slabs with an assortment of sushi, a basket with bread, a cheese platter, a charcuterie board, potato salad, a pot with a questionable grey liquid, and several tin cans filled with little round black things.

“You have outdone yourself, Tish,” Mr. Addams said, reaching for his wife’s hand. “This meal is to die for,” he exclaimed, pressing a kiss against Mrs. Addams’ knuckles, followed by one a few inches higher, and another.

“Gross,” Pugsley mumbled, looking away as Mr. Addams peppered kisses all over Mrs. Addams’ arm.

Wednesday yanked back a chair, causing it to screech as it scraped over the black and white tiled floor. “Do not make me book an overnight flight to San Francisco,” she scolded her parents, speaking to them in a way that Enid wouldn’t dare to try with hers.

“Someday you’ll understand, my little raven,” Mrs. Addams told Wednesday in an affectionate way, without any yelling or raising a hand.

Little raven was a cute nickname, and it suited Wednesday’s gloomy artistic vibe, but judging by the way Wednesday’s jaw tightened, Enid could tell she wasn’t a fan, and that Wednesday would do something worse than put spiders in her bed if she brought it up. Maybe Enid wasn’t the only one dealing with some kind of pressure from her parents, though Wednesday’s seemed much kinder because they still weren’t shouting or sending her to bed without dinner.

“This is a lot of food,” Enid said, hoping that they didn’t go out of their way for her because her appetite was nowhere near as big as she often claimed it was. “You must have leftovers all the time,” she thought out loud while she grabbed the chair next to Wednesday’s.

Enid waited for Wednesday to protest and tell her to pick a different seat, but Wednesday didn’t say anything.

“We never have any leftovers,” Pugsley shared, which was hard to believe because Wednesday almost never ate a full meal. “Our chickens eat everything, so they get fat enough for me to feed Chompie!” Pugsley explained with a huge smile.

“Who’s Chompie?” Enid asked, though she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

“My alligator!”

Yup, Enid would have preferred not knowing they had a freaking alligator somewhere. OMG, what if she wolfed out, ran into Pugsley’s pet, and was forced to break his jaw open to stop him from chomping down on her?

Wednesday scooped two large spoonfuls of white rice onto her plate, reaching for the nearest black slab of sushi next. She retrieved a pair of black chopsticks from the side of her plate, where knives and forks were usually kept, which Enid now realized Wednesday didn’t have while everyone else did.

Enid watched curiously as Wednesday placed the chopsticks between her fingers, noticing her initials were engraved on them. Looking at what her best friend chose to eat almost made Enid forget about the empty plate in front of her, and just as she was about to go for the charcuterie, she saw Wednesday using her chopsticks like a pro, picking up a single grain of rice before dipping it into wasabi like it was ketchup.

While Enid could relate to liking sushi, wasabi was a whole different story. She tried it once, and it burned so bad she cried until she drank two glasses of milk, after which she vowed to never put that in her mouth again. But Wednesday acted as if wasabi was a side dish, putting it on every piece of sushi and grain of rice. It was completely unhinged, yet so Wednesday, and so was the smoothness and precision of her movements, like when she played her cello.

“Do I have something on my face?” Wednesday asked, eyes snapping toward Enid, who didn’t mean to stare.

“I didn’t know you knew how to use chopsticks,” Enid explained, and now that Wednesday asked, she actually did have some wasabi right underneath her bottom lip, which she was now licking, so never mind. “And I was wondering if maybe you could teach me sometime?” Enid added with a hopeful smile, looking forward to doing something with her best friend.

“I’m free tomorrow,” Enid suggested while her smile widened. “And the day after that, and the sixty-eight days after that.”

Wednesday looked away. “Sixty-nine,” she said hoarsely, like the wasabi was getting to her after all.

“Yes, but on the seventy-first day, we’re driving back to school, ergo it doesn’t count as one to be available for other things.”

“Touché,” Wednesday replied, and her voice hinted at a smile, but physically she didn’t. “As a reward for thinking outside the box, I will grant your request.”

Enid didn’t know when or where it would be, but she was super stoked knowing she would have sushi with Wednesday one day and learn how to use chopsticks. Probably sometime when it was just the two of them, because Enid guessed it required some hand touching to position her fingers right, and Wednesday made it clear there would be none of that around others.

“Tell me, Enid,” Mrs. Addams spoke up while moving the potato salad and the charcuterie board closer for her to reach. “Where do you see yourself after graduation?”

“Oh, uh, where I see myself in four years?” Enid replied, fiddling with her fork while she tried to come up with an answer. “To be honest, I haven’t really figured it out yet,” she admitted, seeing how it was actually four whole years in the future. “But it would be nice if I could have a steady relationship by then.”

“I’m sure you’ll find the one when the time is right,” Mrs. Addams said with such confidence it sounded like she was stating a fact. “Nevermore is full of potential.”

“I guess that’s true,” Enid considered, and she did need time.

Not four years, but the last thing she wanted was to start dating right away.

Nevermore was a big school with lots of groups, but Enid couldn’t think of any guy she liked enough to go out with, let alone kiss. She could meet some normie, but after what happened with Lucas, Enid could never trust a normie to understand and accept an outcast like her. No, no normies ever again. Enid’s soulmate was definitely an outcast.

Wednesday placed a salmon roll on Enid’s plate and nudged it with her chopsticks. Oh, how the tables had turned.

***

The room at the very end of the hallway where the tour had begun was completely black from the walls to the furniture to the wooden floor, and the tinted glass that kept out the sunlight and whatever view was out there. Even the pile of pillows on the bed were a shade of black, and Enid wouldn’t be surprised if the mattress was, too.

“This is my bedroom,” Wednesday announced, though the fifty shades of black décor pretty much gave that away already. “You may sleep here until yours is ready.”

Enid thought a guest room or a field bed or even a spot on a couch would have been prepared for her by now, but she wasn’t complaining about this arrangement, which was way better than sleeping in a strange place all by herself. Sharing a room with Wednesday was familiar and comforting, especially since last night when their friendship grew exponentially, and Enid found out that Wednesday really did care about her, and that it was mutual all along.

“Colors are strictly prohibited in my bed,” Wednesday stated as she walked over to her bed and started refolding her sheets, tugging at the edges to remove the tiniest of creases.

“That’s fine,” Enid agreed, nodding at the fair compromise. “Your room, your rules,” she stated, happy to be allowed inside at all, considering how strict Wednesday was about her personal space.

“I, uh..,” Enid began while she tried not to think about the colored streaks in her hair. “I have white pajamas, but they do have little red hearts,” she shared with an apologetic grimace. “But they’re very light because they’ve been washed a lot, and it’s all I have unless I sleep in my white top and boxers. Which I only have in pink and blue because white is no fun, and I don’t own anything black, not even for a funeral. Not that I’m saying black should only be worn at funerals because it really brings out your eyes, and you totally slayed with your outfit that night at the Rave’N,” Enid explained, pacing back and forth, waving her hands around as she talked. “I’m just saying I literally have nothing else to wear to stick to your dress code. And now that I think about it, I really didn’t bring enough clothes for ten weeks, and I should have gone home first to pick up more clothes because—”

“Enid,” Wednesday interjected, dropping the black pillow she was lining up with other pillows in the middle of her queen-sized bed. “Breathe.”

“But I—”

“Breathe in,” Wednesday insisted, inhaling loudly.

Enid nodded, pulling as much air into her lungs as she could.

“Hold,” Wednesday instructed while she opened the top drawer of the dresser next to her window, and Enid tried to, but Wednesday wasn’t counting to four like people were supposed to when helping someone regulate their breathing.

“Good,” Wednesday said just when Enid was about to turn purple and add more color instead of less. “Now breathe out,” Wednesday added at long last, like she waited on purpose.

Enid slowly breathed out, blinking when Wednesday pushed a black nightgown into her hands.

“You can change in my bathroom,” Wednesday offered, pointing at a door across from her bed.

Enid smiled at her best friend. “Okay,” she nodded, willing to wear one of Wednesday’s pajamas for one night, “but I’m not dying my hair black.”

For a fraction of a second, Wednesday’s lips curled up. “How about white?”

Enid’s jaw dropped at the quick and unexpected comeback. She needed someone to pinch her for real because first a compliment, and now a joke?

Who was this cutie and what did she do to Wednesday?

Chapter Text

Wednesday was not prepared for how strikingly well Enid looked in black when she walked out of Wednesday’s bathroom. If Ajax could see Enid now, he would eat his heart out and forever curse the day he ruined the best thing he ever had. Wednesday wanted to say something, but she’d hate to remind Enid of her break-up and inadvertently hurt her, so she remained silent instead.

Enid joined Wednesday on her bed, sitting on the other side of the pillows. Blue eyes met Wednesday’s one moment, flitting away the next before returning once more.

“Sooo,” Enid dragged out the syllable, moving the tip of her finger across the silk gown that Wednesday lent her. “Do you want to do something fun together?” Enid asked, which wasn’t a terrible idea.

Wednesday swung her legs over the edge of her bed. “I have an Ouija board,” she shared, happy to show Enid what a true seance looked like when it wasn’t performed by half-witted teenagers at a house party.

“Um, maybe some other time,” Enid replied, which was fine considering the dead weren’t going anywhere. Aside from Goody, who sacrificed her spirit to heal Wednesday. “For now,” Enid continued after a very short-lived silence, as usual unable to shut up, though Wednesday had grown used to the sound of Enid’s voice. “I was thinking more along the lines of watching a movie or playing a game.”

“What kind of game do you have in mind?” Wednesday asked while she got comfortable on her bed again, crossing her legs.

“Hmm,” Enid hummed, playing with a lock of her hair. “How about truth or dare?”

“Very well,” Wednesday agreed, sensing an opportunity despite the dull premise. “I dare you to fight me in one week’s time,” she challenged, seeing as how the rules of this insipid game demanded dares to be executed and questions to be answered, no matter how daunting they might be.

Enid was at Wednesday’s mercy, of which she had little to none. She did grant Enid leniency by giving her seven days to prepare for their duel, rather than face one another tomorrow, before sunrise. Wednesday counted on winning, though it would be much more satisfying to end up tied, whether it happened in the figurative or literal sense.

“You want me to fight you?” Enid frowned. “Why would—”

“I dared you to, therefore you must.”

“But I didn’t pick anything ye—”

“If I had a phone, how would you save my number in yours?” Wednesday questioned, and it shouldn’t matter to her, but it had been on her mind all day.  

“Oh, this one is easy,” Enid said, smiling as their eyes met, making Wednesday consider banning smiling from her room. “I’d put a black heart next to your name,” Enid answered, and while Wednesday liked black, Enid’s favorite color was pink.

Pink, like the heart next to Yoko’s name.

“Maybe a spider or a knife emoji, too,” Enid added with a chuckle. “Now, can I ask a question, or dare you to do something?”

Wednesday nodded, wondering which generic line would come out of Enid’s mouth, pulled from a random list on the internet where the dares were anything but daring and the questions were composed by a couple of Girl Scouts.

Enid shifted on the sheets, turning her body toward Wednesday. “Why were you screaming last night?” Enid asked quietly while her eyes searched Wednesday’s, as if the answer was written in them.

That was not a generic question, and while Wednesday had hoped for original ones, she did not anticipate Enid going off-script like this. In an instant, their roles were reversed, and Wednesday was now at Enid’s mercy, who indicated she had heard something that wasn’t meant to reach her ears. Damn that cursed blood moon, enhancing Enid’s senses.

“I felt upset,” Wednesday admitted, swallowing the bitter mixture of weakness and defeat. “I used Principal Weems to trick our enemy, without anticipating the risk. She should have been safe against a mere human. But she wasn’t, and now she’s gone,” she explained, and while Wednesday wasn’t the one who administered the nightshade, she was the poison.

Wednesday saw Enid remove the pillows she had meticulously put in the middle to share her bed equally, deciding to let it slide as long as they were awake, playing this twisted game referred to as fun.

“Weems was the beating heart of Nevermore,” Wednesday confessed, admiring her devotion. “She cared about all outcasts, even the lost causes.”

“You’re not a lost cause, Wednesday,” Enid said while she inched closer, crossing the barrier.

“My spirit guide was a raven, like me,” Wednesday exhaled, left with nothing but phantom pain and a book. “She was meant to teach me how to use my gift, but now she’s gone, and I’m alone as she foretold me I would be.”

“I’m not a raven, but I’m here,” Enid replied with the sickening sweet tone of pity, extending her arms as suddenly as she retracted them. “I’m always going to be there for you, Wednesday. Because it’s me and you against the world. Ride or die.”

When Enid caressed Wednesday’s cheek with the pad of her thumb, Wednesday froze. The gesture was intolerable, and she was about to slap Enid’s hand away when she removed it herself, drawing back with a remnant of a tear that was never permitted to leave Wednesday’s body.

“I won’t tell a soul,” Enid whispered, approaching further until their knees touched. “This stays between us. I swear it on my life,” she vowed, crossing her finger across her chest. “You’re safe with me, Wednesday.”

Wednesday felt a strange, unfamiliar feeling pushing against her ribcage. It was unpleasant to be seen as someone in need of protection, to be regarded as vulnerable and frail, when she worked hard to be feared. Wednesday hated her body for betraying her on such a profound level. Tears were pointless, and if Goody could see her now, she would roll over in her grave.

“I dare you to go to sleep,” Wednesday said, pushing Enid’s shoulders for good measure, watching as she lost her balance and landed on her back.

“Okay,” Enid sighed, righting herself. “I’m guessing you don’t want a hug.”

Wednesday didn’t want anything other than silence and space. Lots of space.

“Good night, Enid,” Wednesday said while she fixed the corners of her pillow until they were straight.

“But you’re still dressed,” Enid commented, gesturing at Wednesday.

Wednesday pursed her lips as she climbed out of bed. “I knew that,” she falsely claimed, though it was Enid’s fault she forgot.

Enid bit her lip but failed miserably to hide her smile. “No you didn’t,” she claimed with stubborn accuracy.

Annoying little wolf, Wednesday thought as she made her way to her bathroom. Something in Enid had shifted, beyond her transformation into a werewolf. She had more than claws now. Enid had teeth, and while her newfound boldness got under Wednesday’s skin, she would be lying to herself if she said she wasn’t intrigued by the challenge.

Wednesday stripped and stared at her reflection in the mirror. The skin around her stitches was red and tender, but not swollen, and she wasn’t feeling feverish either. Within a week or two, her shoulder would be as good as new. Unfortunately, with minimal scar tissue, considering the small size of her wound and the steadiness of her hand with which she threaded the needle. But an arrow to the shoulder was more acceptable to live with than an arrow through Xavier’s heart.

When Wednesday returned to her bed in her nightgown, the pillows were back in the middle, lined up as she had done earlier tonight. They weren’t perfectly centered, but it was close enough, and she appreciated having her order restored. Wednesday couldn’t bear two nights in a row being smothered by a body several degrees warmer than hers. She would rather sneak into the local morgue and share a drawer with whichever soul escaped the mortal realm.

“Am I ever going to see you without braids?” Enid asked while Wednesday slipped under the sheets, even though their game of truth or dare had obviously ended. “Not that they aren’t nice, but you never—”

“I can’t sleep if you keep making noise,” Wednesday grumbled, about ten seconds away from a headache. “Stick to purring,” she added, crossing her arms across her chest in order to fall asleep comfortably.

“Okay,” Enid sighed heavily. “But I’m still not going anywhere,” she reiterated with a cheery tone. “You’re my dark cloud, remember?”

Wednesday did remember how they almost parted ways indefinitely, if not permanently. It was seared into her memory, along with every other interaction she had with Enid, despite her wishes to forget some. That time they fought, in particular, was hard for Wednesday to digest. She never wanted to feel the way she did when Enid left again.

“Good night, Wednesday,” Enid mumbled around a yawn.

“Night, Enid.”

Wednesday stared at the ceiling, willing her mind to tire itself out the way her body had. She wanted the darkness to swallow up her soul and spit it out at sunrise to suffer another day.

Alas, even when Enid started humming softly in her sleep, Wednesday couldn’t sink into hers. She had the strange and unsettling feeling that last night was better, when the opposite should be true. Enid was safely tucked in on the other half of Wednesday’s bed, far away from Tyler, who was sent to a psychiatric hospital called Willow Hill, over four hundred miles away in Vermont.

Wednesday turned toward her pillows and made a small gap. Enid was on her side, facing her way when she should be lying on her back or roll over to the right, rather than putting pressure on her wounds. Wednesday saw Enid twitch in her sleep and wondered if she was having a nightmare, though there was no pained expression to suggest she was.

Enid’s eyes fluttered open. “Howdy, roomie,” she whispered, smiling as she looked at Wednesday.

***

Wednesday stared at the blue and pink tie-dye shirt Enid was wearing when she joined her in the Moonlit Manor. It was unbelievable that Enid spent the better half of an hour in Wednesday’s bathroom, only to come out dressed in that. Perhaps Enid’s ramble last night about her clothes wasn’t misplaced, seeing how she indeed had nothing to wear. Nothing that wasn’t painful to look at, anyway.

“Hiii, Nyx,” Enid said, smiling from ear to ear as Nyx glided toward her. “You missed me too, huh?” Enid cooed, catching Nyx with both of her hands.

Maybe Enid’s scent naturally attracted animals for Nyx to be drawn to her. Wednesday wondered if Enid was unconsciously releasing pheromones to avoid coming off as a predator and to camouflage herself as friendly, although in Enid’s case, her kindness was not an act. 

Erebus followed Nyx’s lead, jumping toward Enid.

“Hi, Erebus,” Enid chuckled lightly, smiling as Erebus climbed up her arm, no doubt happy about her body heat. “Hi, little buddy.”

Wednesday never saw her pets bond with someone that fast, but she couldn’t blame them because Enid snuck up on her, too.

“Nyx, Erebus,” Wednesday called out with an urgent yet soft tone. “Vieni qui,” (come here) she commanded in Italian, patting the pocket where she kept their treats.

“Hey,” Enid gasped when Erebus and Nyx migrated from her arms to Wednesday’s. “That’s cheating,” Enid pouted while Wednesday fed her pets one mealworm each, doubting Enid had the stomach to touch worms as they wriggled about.

Insects were a good source of protein and nutrients for sugar gliders, and feeding them live insects mimicked the natural wild diet they needed to remain healthy. It made Erebus and Nyx think they were doing a good job hunting, which enriched their physical and mental well-being. Plus, the moisture in live insects kept them hydrated. But because insects had a high fat content, they were only suitable as treats, with a limit of five per day, though Wednesday never gave them more than three each to keep their diet as balanced as possible.

“I am not cheating,” Wednesday corrected, keeping an eye on Nyx so she didn’t steal Erebus’ treat as she often did. “They may like you, and that is fine, but at the end of the day, they are my children.”

“Awe,” Enid cooed, folding her hands together, hugging them to her right cheek. “That’s so—”

Wednesday glared at Enid, who shut her mouth at once. In hindsight, Wednesday should have done the same when Enid called her a cheater, rather than exposing her attachment to Nyx and Erebus. Wednesday had tried with every fiber in her body not to love them after what happened to Nero, but Wednesday had Erebus and Nyx since they were joeys, and she fed them with a syringe until they were old enough to be weaned. Therefore, she was their mother and had been for two years now.

“Can I take a picture of you guys?” Enid asked, pulling her phone out of the pocket of her pants. “I—oh.”

Wednesday watched Enid’s expressions shift from smiling to frowning while she stared at her screen, before frantically moving her fingers at an inhuman speed.

“Who are you texting?” Wednesday asked while she put Erebus and Nyx in their tree.

“My mom,” Enid answered, sighing as she continued to type. “She wants to donate a bunch of my stuff to the Grays, for their daughter Isla,” she explained with a huff, looking up from the device that allowed her parents to torment her from afar. “She says it’s time for me to grow up and get rid of ‘childish’ things,” Enid went on, adding quotation marks with her fingers. “So she’s giving my stuffed animals to the four-year-old I babysat last summer. And don’t get me wrong, I adore Isla, but those are mine, and it’s not fair of my mom to decide what I should and shouldn’t keep when she has been hoarding everything my brothers and I outgrew.”

Tears slid down Enid’s cheeks, and in that moment, Wednesday wanted to kill Esther Sinclair. Nobody was allowed to torture Enid, and if Wednesday had to go to San Francisco and break into the Grays’ home to retrieve the stuffed animals Enid was so sentimentally attached to, Wednesday would, even if she had to rip them out of that little girl’s hands.

Enid shook her head at her phone. “I should have never left the teddy bear my cousin Lucille gave me at home, or the monkey my dad helped me win that time we snuck out to go to the fair when I was seven, because my only friend moved away and I was upset and he wanted to cheer me up,” she shared while she dried her eyes. “But it’s too late now. My mom is going to give them to the Grays because once again, my feelings don’t matter.”

“Over my dead body,” Wednesday snapped, holding out her right hand.

“W-what…?” Enid blinked. “What are you doing?”

“I need to borrow your phone to yell at your mother,” and threaten to make wolf stew out of her.

Enid gasped. “You can’t yell at my mother, Wednesday,” she replied, holding her phone against her chest. “She’ll kill me.”

“If she lays one finger on you, I will—”

“Easy, thunder cloud,” Enid said, smiling for a second. “Promise me you won’t pull a Wednesday and sneak out to visit my home?”

“Yes…,” Wednesday considered, nodding slowly. “I promise I won’t.”

Enid raised a brow. “Or send someone else to do it?”

It was mildly alarming how well Enid had gotten to know Wednesday, thwarting her plans to seek out revenge, forcing her to let this go unpunished. Nevertheless, there was always another way, and Esther Sinclair would find out sooner or later what happened to those who crossed the Addams family. There would be no mercy or room for second chances.

Wednesday was going to find out what Esther loved more than anything in the world, and destroy it.

“Wednesday?” Enid prompted, frowning. “Penny for your thoughts?”

Wednesday clasped her hands behind her back. “We’re going out in five minutes,” she announced, and this time there was no room to stall with unnecessary goodbyes.

“Aye, aye, captain,” Enid giggled, waving her hand in a ridiculous salute. “Where to?”

***

The town was as empty as it was last summer, making one wonder how the shops hadn’t foreclosed yet, though Wednesday presumed her mother’s ever-growing collection of clothes had a hand in keeping them open. Their revenue certainly didn’t stem from the occasional sleazebag staying at the motel, buying outfits for his underpaid hooker while his wife was at home, trapped in a cursed marriage.

“Which store would you prefer to shop in first?” Wednesday asked, and while she had only intended to endure one, she wanted Enid to feel better.

“Oh, um… I don’t really…,” Enid said, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. “I only have a few dollars until I get my next allowance, which isn’t all that much.”

“You’re not paying, I am,” Wednesday stated, as was her intention all along. “Anything you pick is going into the wardrobe in your room, anyway. For you to take with you to Nevermore, should you wish to do so, or leave there until next summer.”

Enid blinked twice. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, shaking her head. “Next summer?”

“Or winter,” Wednesday responded, uncertain she would spend Christmas and New Year's with her parents. “Depending on where we’ll go for our holiday break, of course.”

“Um, Wednesday… I do have to go home at some point,” Enid said, wringing her hands together. “I can’t spend every break at your house.”

Wednesday didn’t understand why Enid would willingly return home to a family who did nothing but upset her when she could stay by Wednesday’s side. Enid never had to go back if she didn’t want to, but if she did, and Tyler was still alive, then Wednesday would have to go with her. Going within ten feet of Enid’s parents, however, might result in a series of fortunate accidents.

“I wish I could though,” Enid added after several seconds of silence. “I really like being here with you.”

“Consider your wish granted,” Wednesday replied, gesturing at the nearest store, where fabrics had gone to die out of shame for the hideous creations made with them.

“Okay, genie,” Enid chuckled, light and unburdened, if only for a moment. “Time to go back in your bottle.”

Wednesday felt that strange, unknown feeling stirring in her chest again. She had no idea what it was, but Enid seemed to be the direct cause of this most unusual occurrence, according to the evidence Wednesday had gathered thus far. It wasn’t much to go on yet, but it was a start toward an explanation, and a possible solution should one be necessary.

Enid skipped a step ahead, smiling while she chose the store to their left, where a mannequin dressed in pink feathers was displayed behind the window. If Enid wanted that plucked flamingo look added to her wardrobe, she could spend the remainder of their break in the chicken coop, grazing with the rest of them.

Thankfully, Enid ignored the display and walked on, stopping in front of four large rows with clothes on either side. Each row had a label on the left and the right, starting with undergarments and swimwear on the outer left, shirts and sweaters in the second row, skirts and pants in the third, and pajamas and jackets in the last. The colors were all over the place, chaotic and disruptive, and while Wednesday would rather watch paint dry than spend another second inside, Enid needed this.

“You may choose as many black pajamas as you want,” Wednesday announced, though white was a tolerable alternative.

“Oh…won’t my room be ready by tonight though?” Enid asked, tucking her hair behind her ears, which was a pointless endeavor considering the same few strands kept falling back in her face. “I’ve been here twenty-four hours.”

Twenty-one, but who was counting?

Wednesday shook her head, both in answer and correction. “My parents haven’t hired an interior designer yet,” she clarified, assuming they would, given the duration of Enid’s stay with them, and Wednesday’s intention to bring Enid with her again in the foreseeable future.

Wednesday hadn’t discussed that part with her parents yet, though she would eventually have to cross that bridge and explain why it was paramount to keep Enid close. It was not a request made by Wednesday on a whim, but an irrefutable deal they had to accept, unless they wanted Wednesday to cut all ties with them and file for emancipation. The thought had crossed her mind before, but as suffocating as her parents were, there was no place like home.

Enid’s eyes widened, and in the artificial light of the store, they seemed bluer. “They want to hire someone to decorate a room…for me?” she asked, brushing her fingers through her hair again, which grew irritating to observe.

Every single time Enid moved her fingers to touch her face as if it were a delicate flower, Wednesday was reminded of those same fingers on her cheek, catching a tear. It was horrifyingly intimate, and if Enid tried it again, Wednesday would hit her with a pillow and never bring up her foolish feelings again.  

“It’s an Addams family custom to personalize rooms to fit whomever resides in them,” Wednesday explained, though with Enid’s particularly colorful tastes, it was no small task to find someone suitable for the job. “Nevertheless,” Wednesday added while she grabbed a hanger that was placed in the opposite way of the others on the rack, putting it back the right way. “If you’re unsatisfied with our current arrangement, we can explore other options.”

“No, no, I’m happy with the way things are,” Enid said, raising her hands. “Pretend I didn’t say anything.”

Wednesday almost smiled at that. “Don’t I always?” she remarked, turning to face Enid.

“You don’t fool me, Wednesday,” Enid claimed, taking a step closer. A little too close, but there was no way to back up without stumbling into a bunch of hangers, and Wednesday didn’t want to shove Enid away. “I know you love being roommates as much as I do.”

Wednesday was unaware Enid felt this strongly about sharing a room with her, until now. Perhaps Wednesday was wrong to assume Enid might gravitate toward Yoko again, or someone else entirely that Enid had more in common with.

“I do not love anything,” Wednesday exhaled, realizing she didn’t need to step back when she could simply step aside.

Enid gasped, smiling while she put a hand on her chest. “Not even Nyx and Erebus?”

Wednesday pursed her lips for a moment. “You’re insufferable,” she responded, moving away from Enid’s stupid know-it-all smile.

The sooner they were done here, the faster Wednesday could go home to practice a new piece on her cello in solitude. Meanwhile, Thing could keep an eye on Enid and paint her nails in that silver moon polish she appeared to favor.

“OMG, Wednesday, look!” Enid all but screamed, pointing at a mannequin wearing a black dress. “This dress is so you,” she claimed, grabbing the doll. “You should try it on!”

Wednesday pinched the bridge of her nose. “Fine,” she agreed, solely to shut Enid up. “But if you aren’t holding any clothes to buy by the time I get changed, I am leaving you here,” Wednesday warned, whisking the dress out of Enid’s hands the second she stripped the mannequin.

The dress was sleeveless, hugging the top of Wednesday’s chest like a glove when she tried it on in the changing room. It had a slit on the right, starting at her ankle and reaching up to her thigh, right above her knee. Wednesday stared at her reflection in the mirror full of fingerprints and hated the way the dress made her look like her mother, who, to Wednesday’s relief, finally seemed to have grasped the concept of space and didn’t push to turn this trip into a family outing.

When Wednesday walked out of the changing room, she found Enid standing only three feet away with an armful of hangers.

Enid’s jaw dropped. “Wednesday, your shoulder,” she said, furrowing her brows while she propelled herself forward.

Wednesday took a step back, leaving an arm’s length between them. “I am fine,” she stated truthfully, as far as physical wounds went, at least. “The arrow I was struck with missed my axillary artery,” she shared without adding that if it had hit her half an inch lower, she could have hemorrhaged and potentially died.

“I thought you said your ancestor healed you,” Enid commented, staring at Wednesday’s stitches.

Wednesday swallowed at the memory and how Xavier’s ill-timed need to play knight in shining armor nearly ruined Goody’s sacrifice. Wednesday faintly wondered if she would one day be a spirit guide to one of her brother’s great-grandchildren in need of a raven, but the main thing on Wednesday’s mind was who would guide her now.  

“You look a-ma-zing by the way,” Enid said gleefully. “You should totally wear this to the dance next year.”

There was no way in hell Wednesday would wear this dress again, and she had no intention of going to the dance next year. Xavier might ask her, given his inane and relentless infatuation with her, but the answer would always be no. Wednesday was not his muse to capture; she was his downfall.

“I’m taking this off, and then we are leaving,” Wednesday announced, opening the curtain of the changing room.

“Wait,” Enid said, reaching for Wednesday’s hand, stopping short of touching her. “I want to try something on first,” Enid explained, moving her armful of clothes. “Just one thing, to see if it fits, and then we can go.”

“Very well,” Wednesday sighed, backing away. “You have five minutes.”

Enid rolled her eyes. “I’ll come out when I’m ready to come out,” she replied with a huff and a smile, though an estimate of when that would be would be nice.

One minute later, Wednesday’s ears picked up a string of muttered curses after what sounded like Enid knocking her elbow into the mirror. Wednesday would ask Enid if she needed a hand, but hearing her struggle was more entertaining, so as long as Enid wasn’t bleeding, she was on her own.

Enid emerged in a black lace dress interfused with a reddish pink color, with ruffles at the bottom where it touched her knees. The sight was refreshing and surprisingly bearable, despite Wednesday’s usual aversion to color.  

“Can you take a picture of me?” Enid asked, handing over her phone. “From my good side,” she added, gesturing at her right, turning to hide her stitches on the left. 

Wednesday raised a brow. “You don’t have a good side.”

“Oh,” Enid whispered, lowering her head.

“Both sides are equally worth capturing,” Wednesday clarified, appalled by the absurd notion that Enid had a bad side.

“Oh!” Enid said, smiling. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

Wednesday found the camera on Enid’s phone and took a picture, photographing her as fully as she could. When Enid rushed over to look, she pressed her cheek against Wednesday’s, squeezing in close to see the tiny screen.

“I’m going to send this to Yoko real quick,” Enid announced, grabbing her phone from Wednesday’s hand. “If she likes—”

“For what it’s worth, I think you look ravishing,” Wednesday interrupted, though her opinion was clearly irrelevant, considering she wasn’t asked for hers. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to put my own clothes back on,” she said while she entered the changing room, yanking the curtain shut.

Once Wednesday finished, she waited for Enid, who giggled an annoying amount at whatever Yoko was texting her. For someone so eager to socialize, Enid was good at shutting Wednesday out and prioritizing her phone. Prioritizing Yoko, whose opinion Enid did value.

“Yoko and Divina think I should wear it to the dance,” Enid said while she moved the curtain aside. “They said we’ll match.”

“We?” Wednesday questioned, though she cared little what those two had to say.

“I’m taking you to the dance next year,” Enid announced with a blinding smile. “It’ll be our girls' night out.”

Wednesday blinked. “You are…taking me…to the dance?”

“Uh-huh,” Enid nodded. “And it won’t be kidnapping if you go willingly,” she added with a wink.

Chapter Text

Enid couldn’t believe how many clothes Wednesday ended up buying for her. It was like a whole new wardrobe, where nothing was passed down or thrifted, though Enid did have some second-hand stuff that was in decent shape. The bill for the shopping bags she carried inside the Addams family mansion was – well, Enid was messaging Yoko, so she didn’t see the total – but it was a lot.

Wednesday took her to no less than five different stores, and she paid for lunch! Enid hadn’t figured out how yet, but she was going to pay Wednesday back. Maybe not with money unless Wednesday could wait a few years for her to scrape enough together, but with favors, although Enid would do those for free. She could make another snood, but Wednesday didn’t seem to like the first one very much, so spending seven hours knitting a new one probably wasn’t the best idea.

“Welcome back,” Mrs. Addams said with a kind smile, standing in the hallway. “Lurch, the bags, if you will,” she requested, gesturing at Enid, who had grabbed her bags out of habit because she always carried her own stuff.

Lurch grunted, and when he took the bags out of Enid’s hands, she hoped he wasn’t in trouble for not bringing them inside when it was her fault. Enid just wasn’t used to the kind of life that came with a personal chauffeur and a butler, and she wanted to explain that to Wednesday’s parents, but they were so nice that she figured she didn’t have to.

“Don’t look so surprised to see me, Mother,” Wednesday said, staring at her mother in an almost glaring kind of way. “If I had any intention to run away this summer, I would not have returned home with my suitcase, though I am not here for you.”

“Well…,” Mrs. Addams exhaled heavily, a little misty-eyed. “I do hope you treat your friend kinder than you do your mother,” she added with an unwavering smile, and Enid felt bad for her.

Wednesday’s mom was so loving and warm, and Wednesday behaved like she hated her. Enid wondered if something had happened for Wednesday to be so cold to her own mother, who looked like she really needed a hug. Families weren’t perfect, and Enid guessed everyone had some kind of luggage, but Wednesday seemed pretty lucky from where Enid was standing.

Not everyone had a brother who didn’t bully them and a mother who didn’t yell at them. Not everyone went to bed with a full stomach and knew for sure they’d get food again the next day. Not everyone had their own space and the room to decorate it to their liking. Not everyone could lash out at their parents and know there wouldn’t be any consequences. Not everyone got to have a pet and love it without fear of having to give it away. Not everyone could bring someone home and be allowed to let them stay for two whole months without asking for permission first.

“Enid, dear,” Mrs. Addams said, drawing her attention. “What would you like for dinner?” 

“Oh, uh…,” Enid blinked at the question. “Anything is fine,” she answered, happy with whatever Wednesday’s mother decided to put on the table.

Enid probably looked like a picky eater last night because of how long it took her to put something on her plate, but she was just distracted watching Wednesday eat in such a graceful way. Back home, Enid was used to her brothers behaving like wild animals during meals. They ate everything with their hands, spilled stuff everywhere, and chewed with their mouths open. Sometimes, Enid couldn’t believe she was related to them, but the DNA test she faked her parents’ signature for last year claimed that she was.

“She likes steak,” Wednesday spoke up.

“I do,” Enid admitted, smiling and nodding while she thought about eating a juicy steak. “It’s a wolf thing.”

“Well then,” Mrs. Addams smiled. “Steak it is,” she announced, and with that, she left before Enid had the chance to thank her.

Enid followed Wednesday when she started going up the stairs, licking her lips at the knowledge there would be steak for dinner, which Enid hadn’t eaten in ages. It was expensive and her parents only bought it for special occasions, like her brothers’ birthdays. Enid asked for it for hers once, but her mother said her brothers needed it more, so that was that.

There was a clothing rack in the hallway, blocking the path to Wednesday’s door. Around the pole, Enid noticed a white card with her name written on it in black ink in cursive, with a little heart above the i. Mrs. Addams must have put it there while Wednesday took Enid shopping.

Wednesday wrapped her hand around the black metal and pulled it forward, wheeling it into her bedroom.

“Your new clothes should be cleaned in a day or two,” Wednesday shared, and Enid hadn’t even thought of that, but washing them was probably better because there was no telling how many people had tried them on before her. “After which, you can hang them here, along with the contents of your suitcase,” Wednesday said while she placed the rack in the corner behind the door. “For the time being, that is.”

“Right, until my room is ready,” Enid replied, aware that this was temporary.

Maybe Enid shouldn’t unpack, although her name was on the rack, and it would be rude to turn down a gift. Plus, it would be easier to pick out an outfit if she had all of them on display rather than having to go through her bags every time. And Wednesday’s room really needed some color to liven up the place.

“I am going to practice my cello for an hour,” Wednesday announced as she walked across her bedroom. “Meanwhile, you can spend time with Thing in his room.”

Enid blinked at the casual information that Thing had his own room, which she hadn’t seen yet because the tour Wednesday gave her never actually continued, and Enid hadn’t asked in case there was something worse than the souvenir room lurking in the shadows of the Addams family mansion. But Enid was really happy for Thing, who deserved his own space even if he didn’t take up a lot of room. Thing was an Addams, after all.

“Oh, um, would you mind if I stayed?” Enid asked, and while she couldn’t wait to see how Thing’s room was decorated, she wanted to hear Wednesday play.

“That depends,” Wednesday replied, putting her music stand in the middle of the open space behind her bed. “Can you be silent?”

Enid nodded, though she couldn’t guarantee she could be quiet for the full hour. She would try, of course, but there was something so moving about the way Wednesday played, which could lead to a compliment or two, and a standing ovation at the end of a song. It was like Wednesday poured her heart and soul into every note, so much so that she put people in a trance.

“If you give me five minutes, I can put on something black,” Enid requested, so she could sit on Wednesday’s bed without breaking her number one rule.

Wednesday raised a brow, head slightly tilted while she stared. “You have four minutes and fifty-four seconds left,” she stated while she continued setting up her things to play.

“Be right back, roomie,” Enid said, smiling as she moved past Wednesday to enter the bathroom.

Enid didn’t count how many minutes and seconds it took her to get changed, but when she returned, Wednesday was quietly waiting with her cello positioned in front of her. Enid sat down on the edge of Wednesday’s bed, sticking to the side Wednesday had wordlessly assigned to her.

Wednesday’s fingers curled around the top of her cello while she held her bow with her other hand, eyes fixed on the sheet music in front of her. For a moment, she was perfectly still, like the eye of a storm before it shifted and swept up everything in its path. But then Wednesday’s hands moved with the intensity of a tormented soul, blending the notes with melancholy.

Enid had the feeling she heard that same melody before, but differently.

“This sounds familiar,” Enid said out loud when her curiosity took the upper hand.

Wednesday’s fingers stilled. “It’s La Llorona,” she revealed, looking up at Enid.

“Oh, I see,” Enid nodded and smiled. “You gave it the Wednesday touch.”

Wednesday lowered her bow. “Explain.”

“Okay, so,…your version sounds more haunting and tragic,” Enid started, thinking how it sounded like Wednesday was chasing a ghost of something or someone, or both. Ay de mí – woe is me – as the lyrics included, reflected the grief Wednesday carried with her but rarely talked about.

“I can’t fully breathe when you play,” Enid admitted, sharing her truth. “Because if I do, I might breathe too loud and ruin the experience of witnessing your raw talent,” she explained, in awe of her best friend. “It’s like a siren song luring me into the sea, but with notes instead of words.”

“Your flattery regarding my performance of this piece is misplaced,” Wednesday replied, putting her bow down. “I have yet to master—”

“Just take the compliment, Wednesday,” Enid sighed, rolling her eyes at Wednesday’s stubborn refusal to recognize and accept praise.

“I’ll sleep on it,” Wednesday said while she moved to stand.

Enid shook her head. “Don’t make me throw pillows at you,” she warned, though she wouldn’t start a pillow fight in here because Wednesday didn’t like it when her space got messy.

“Pillows?” Wednesday repeated evenly. “How scary,” she added with a feigned gasp.

“Ugh, Wednesday,” Enid groaned, flopping down onto the soft mattress before sitting back up. “You’re so…,” she trailed off, wondering how she was the insufferable one when Wednesday took pleasure in getting under her skin.

Wednesday raised a brow. “So?” she pressed, case in point.

And nope, Enid was not doing this again because if she drew her claws, Wednesday’s mattress would be ruined, and her bed was way too nice to sleep elsewhere.

“One of these nights, I’m going to smother you,” Enid sighed.

Wednesday’s eyes brightened. “You’re welcome to try, lobita,” (little wolf) she challenged with an amused tone in her voice.

Enid had no idea how she was going to survive ten weeks with Wednesday without snapping, but no matter how hard Wednesday pushed, Enid still wasn’t going anywhere.

***    

The rich, earthy scent of a freshly cooked steak filled Enid’s nostrils when she and Wednesday joined Wednesday’s parents and brother in the dining hall. Every meal was plated already, but still steaming, like they walked in just in time.

“This smells incredible,” Enid said, inhaling as deeply as she could while she looked at her plate, which had steak covering one half and potatoes with veggies covering the other half. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Addams.”

“Don’t mention it, dear,” Mrs. Addams replied, smiling at her. “Anything for our favorite guest.”

Enid reached for her knife and fork, aware of the others staring at her, although she wasn’t sure why. Maybe they wanted to see if she really did like steak, so she cut off a corner and put it in her mouth. The flavor hit her tongue immediately as it practically melted before she even began to chew. It was sweet, buttery, and slightly nutty, and Enid had never eaten anything so delicious in her entire life.

“It’s Wagyu,” Wednesday shared when Enid devoured the last bite.

“Oh my…,” Enid whispered, tempted to lick her plate clean, but that would be bad etiquette, and she didn’t want to behave like a dog. “If you keep feeding me things like this, I might never leave,” she shared with a chuckle and a smile.

Wednesday pushed her plate next to Enid’s, inclining her head at the untouched piece of steak.

Enid’s heart warmed, realizing once again that Wednesday wanted to have her around and keep it that way. But Enid didn’t want to steal Wednesday’s food because Wednesday needed to eat too, and the iron would be good for her, so she nudged the plate back.

“Eat or be fed, Enid,” Wednesday said, moving her plate back toward Enid.

Enid cut off a piece. “You first,” she insisted, holding out her fork.

Mr. Addams laughed. “Cara Mia, this brings me back,” he said, grasping his wife’s hand, kissing her knuckles. “How thrilling to see our little death trap meet her equal.”

“Tamp down the exuberance,” Wednesday commented, moving her chair several inches away. “Enid and I are not alike, for she is the sun and I am the dark cloud consuming her light.”

Wednesday and Enid were different, but they weren’t total polar opposites either, and if Wednesday wanted to compare her to the sun, she should know Enid would never burn out. And like she told Wednesday before, they shouldn’t work, but they did. They already proved that by beating the odds and forming a friendship that turned into them becoming each other’s best friend.

Mrs. Addams snapped her fingers, and just like that, Lurch appeared with another plate and placed it in front of Wednesday.

“Your wounds seem to be healing well, dear,” Mrs. Addams said while she looked at Enid, and they were.

Enid was relieved that the soreness and the pain were gone, and she hoped the scarring would be minimal after her skin healed because she really didn’t want to look like she ran into Edward Scissorhands for the rest of her life. Then there were also the reactions of her parents, who had no idea what Enid did and what it cost her, but wouldn’t understand that the alternative was a price she could never pay. Maybe her parents would be proud and praise the marks of her victory, but that was wishful thinking. It was more likely that her mother would be upset that she ruined her face and neck, and tell Enid she should have never protected Wednesday.

But Enid would rather die than live in a world without her best friend.

“I can’t believe you fought a Hyde!” Pugsley exclaimed, smiling from ear to ear. “You’re awesome!”

Enid smiled at the compliment. “Thank you.”

“Were you scared?” Pugsley asked, eyes comically wide.

“Terrified,” Enid answered honestly, shuddering at the memory. “But I wasn’t thinking about me. All I could think about was Wednesday.”

Enid’s heart was beating so fast when she almost didn’t get to Wednesday in time, seeing that monster ready to kill her. Tyler was bad news from the start, and Enid should have followed her gut feeling and pressed harder when she asked Wednesday if she was sure she could trust that normie. Enid regretted that she pushed Wednesday into his arms, sending her to the Weathervane to be with him, when Enid knew Wednesday deserved someone better.

“Ah,” Mr. Addams said, raising his glass. “True…,” he paused and shared a glance with his wife, “…friendship.”

Enid bobbed her head. “Wednesday is my best friend,” she told Wednesday’s family. “I’d go through fire for her,” Enid added, and it sounded sappy, but she would because friends had each other’s backs.

“That’s wonderful to hear,” Mrs. Addams replied, smiling with such maternal warmth it healed something inside of Enid. “Our Wednesday needs a friend like you.”

Enid would argue she needed Wednesday just as much, but Wednesday had stopped eating, and Enid didn’t want to make her any more uncomfortable than she already was. Wednesday wasn’t good with feelings, whether they were sad ones or happy ones, and Enid respected Wednesday’s need for distance. 

“Mother,” Wednesday said with a cold tone. “¿Qué estás tramando?” (What are you plotting) she asked, staring at her mother.

“Nada,” (nothing) Mrs. Addams answered.

“Estás tramando algo,” (you are up to something) Wednesday insisted, her voice carrying a sharp harshness, like a dagger. “Sea lo que sea, se acaba ahora,” (whatever it is, it ends now) she added, stabbing the black olive on her plate with the tip of her knife.

“¿Pasarías por el fuego por ella?” (would you go through fire for her) Mr. Addams asked Wednesday.

“Fuego del infierno,” (hellfire) Wednesday answered her father. “Pero eso no está en cuestión,” (but that’s not in question) she added, continuing her assault on her food.

Enid wondered at what point she should tell Wednesday she understood Spanish because her cousin Lucille’s mother was born in San Miguel de Allende in Mexico, and had taught Enid since she was five.

Maybe after their fight next Saturday, just to be on the safe side in case Wednesday got mad and invoked a military challenge where the winner had to draw first blood, because Enid really didn’t want to injure Wednesday with her claws.

***  

“I’m sorry I haven’t painted your nails yet,” Enid apologized to Thing. “Let me call Yoko first, and then we can do each other’s nails,” Enid promised, holding out her pinky, smiling as Thing put his finger around hers.

With Wednesday somewhere else in the mansion, Enid was alone in Wednesday’s bedroom with Thing, which gave her the perfect opportunity for a video chat. Not that Wednesday wasn’t welcome to join, but Enid doubted she was interested in talking to Yoko or hearing Enid talk to her, and Wednesday probably wanted some time to herself anyway.

Enid set up her laptop on top of one of the pillows, which she would put back in its place after her call, propping the one she slept on behind her back for comfort. As soon as her screen was on, Enid opened the connection to FaceTime, smiling when Yoko accepted after the first ring.

Yoko was sitting in bed, too. Her screen was darker, probably because of the blackout curtains she once mentioned she had at home, so she didn’t have to wear her sunglasses, but she did have pretty lights on the wall behind her, shaped like bats.

“Hii, Yoyo,” Enid greeted her friend with a smile and a wave.

“Hey, E,” Yoko replied, and when she smiled, Enid saw a glimpse of Yoko’s fangs. “Whoa,” she gasped, leaning closer to the camera on her end. “Did Wednesday convert you?”

Enid frowned at the strange comment, but then she remembered she was wearing Wednesday’s black nightgown to comply with her rule of no colors in her bed. Maybe she should have worn her own clothes and taken a seat on the floor or something, but it wasn’t the first time Yoko saw Enid wearing pajamas.

“I’m sleeping in Wednesday’s room,” Enid explained, and she would send pictures if Yoko didn’t believe her, but Enid figured the live footage was evidence enough. “But only temporary,” she added, which was an important detail that required a longer explanation that she wasn’t even sure she fully understood herself.

“Okay,” Yoko nodded, smirking. “But don’t dye your hair black.”

“That’s what I said to her! That I’m not going to dye my hair black!” Enid exclaimed, smiling at the memory. “And she suggested white.”

“There’s always grey…”

“Eww, no,” Enid laughed, never ever going for such a depressing color. “I don’t want to look like my mom,” she grimaced, but as soon as she brought up her mom, Enid remembered the conversation she had with her this morning.

“Hey,” Yoko said softly. “What’s wrong, Boo?”

“It’s my mom,” Enid answered, retracting her claws when she felt them scrape the palms of her hands, on the verge of puncturing her skin without meaning to. “She texted me today to let me know she packed up all of my stuffed animals to give to the sweet little girl I told you I babysat. She said I’m too old for stuffed animals, but they’re more than just stuffed animals to me.”

“Did you tell her that?”

“I tried, but she doesn’t get it,” Enid sighed, swallowing at the knowledge that the only thing from her childhood she desperately wanted to keep was gone. “And I asked if I could keep half of them, you know, to compromise, but she said I have plenty more at Nevermore.”

“Your mom sounds like a bitch,” Divina scoffed while she popped up on the screen and sat down next to Yoko, who pressed a little kiss to Divina’s temple.

Enid immediately smiled at the sight of the loving gesture, knowing Yoko didn’t easily let people see her affection toward her girlfriend. Yoko was lowkey a romantic, though, writing love letters to Divina and keeping a stash of her favorite snacks, which Enid thought was adorable.

“Sorry for eavesdropping,” Divina said, gathering her hair and putting it over her left shoulder. “I just got out of the shower and didn’t know you were in the middle of a call.”

“No, it’s okay,” Enid assured her friend, not upset in the slightest. “I wouldn’t tell Yoko anything I’m not okay with you knowing, too.”

Enid did talk to Yoko more because Yoko had approached her first, and they were roommates for a short time, but Enid liked that she was building a closer friendship with Divina, too. Hanging out with both of them was like a double bonus, and if Enid could swap her brothers for sisters, she would choose Yoko and Divina in a heartbeat.

Divina narrowed her eyes. “Are you wearing Wednesday’s pajamas?” she asked, shrieking when Yoko elbowed her.

“Technically, I am,” Enid answered, looking down at the black nightgown for a moment. “But this gown is so soft and smooth to sleep in, I might keep it and hope she forgets she lent it to me,” she confessed, although with Wednesday’s knack for remembering stuff, Enid might have more luck asking nicely.

“Interesting,” Divina said, handing a brush to Yoko. “I didn’t think little Addams would share her stuff that easily.”

Yoko’s lips quirked up. “Guess whose room she’s in, babe,” she commented while she started combing Divina’s hair.

Enid was done with relationships for a while, but she kind of wanted what Divina and Yoko had. Enid would love to share tender moments like that with someone, where she could relax and have her hair brushed, and get forehead kisses, and cheek kisses, and nose kisses.

Divina hummed when Yoko pressed her lips against her shoulder.

“You should change your name to Divine,” Yoko said to Divina, kissing her neck. “My divine angel,” Yoko continued, grasping Divina’s jaw while she pulled her closer.

Divina’s mouth crashed into Yoko’s, sharing a languid kiss while they held on to each other. Enid saw them kiss before, but not like this, not with their tongues exploring like that. It was a lot to witness, and it was a lot more than the quick pecks they usually shared in front of others.

“Um…,” Enid cleared her throat. “I’m still here, guys,” she reminded the happy couple before they went any further and made her have to see a therapist.

Divina pulled back, touching her fingertips to her lips. “Damn,” she shuddered, staring at Yoko.

“My bad,” Yoko said, retracting her fangs, licking a remnant of blood off her lips. “How are things with Wednesday, by the way? Did she buy that dress?”

“No, I think she hated it,” Enid answered, though she had no idea why. “But she did like my dress,” she added, happy that Wednesday not only approved her choice but complimented her for it.

“Oh, and Wednesday called me little wolf,” Enid shared with her friends. “But she doesn’t know that I know because she doesn’t know that I know Spanish.”

“She nicknamed you?” Divina asked.

“Do you think that’s what it is?” Enid questioned out loud. “You don’t think it’s derogatory?” she wondered, although Wednesday didn’t sound like she was trying to insult her when she said it.

“Not unless you think it is,” Divina shrugged.

“Maybe you should give her a nickname, too,” Yoko suggested. “See how she reacts.”

“Um, no thank you,” Enid grimaced, although she would love to give her best friend one. “I don’t want to wake up in a hole with Wednesday shoveling dirt on top of me.”

“Something tells me she wouldn’t put dirt on top of you,” Yoko replied before whispering something in Divina’s ear that Enid didn’t catch.

“We’re going to end the call now to watch a movie,” Divina announced. “Talk to you later, sweetie.”

“Okay,” Enid nodded, happy she got to see and hear her friends. “Talk to you guys later.”

“Good night, Wolfie,” Yoko teased. “And fyi, black becomes you,” she added with a wink.

Enid ended the call and closed her laptop, agreeing that black wasn’t a bad look on her, though she did prefer pastels. She just finished putting everything back in place when Wednesday entered, carrying a large black mug with a snake as a handle. Not a real snake, thankfully, or Enid would have been out the door by now. And she thought Wednesday had made herself a cup of coffee, but then Enid noticed the whipped cream and colored sprinkles on top.

“It’s hot chocolate milk,” Wednesday said while she approached. “I made it for you,” she shared, offering the drink to Enid, staring at her as she did.

Enid took a sip, and it tasted a little funny, but the chocolate was so good, and she liked the little marshmallows hidden under the whipped cream. Plus, it was really sweet of Wednesday to bring her something, spoiling her again. Wednesday was such a good best friend, and she really cheered Enid up and comforted her in her own way with that impromptu shopping trip.

Wednesday nudged the bottom of the cup, but Enid wasn’t stalling because she wasn’t a fan. She was just trying to figure out what that strange flavor was, guessing it was some kind of herb she hadn’t come across yet, or a special kind of milk. If it was the latter, Enid might prefer not knowing what animal it came from.

Enid drank the rest of the hot chocolate, licking her lips to show how yummy it was. Wednesday grabbed the empty cup, and for a second, Enid thought she saw Wednesday smiling, but Enid’s vision was a little bit blurry, kind of like the room was spinning, so it could have been a pout or a frown.

“Thank you, Ww…,” Enid yawned, and suddenly she had the overwhelming need to close her eyes. “I feel real…really sleepy,” she struggled to get out, but it was weird to be this tired because it wasn’t even half past nine yet, and she was used to going to sleep right after ten back at Nevermore, when everyone had to turn their lights off.

The last thing Enid saw before she couldn’t fight her sleep any longer was Wednesday covering her with a blanket, and then everything went black.

Chapter Text

“Enid is fine,” Wednesday sighed while Thing frantically tapped and signed, as if she would poison the little wolf she intended to protect. “The sleeping pills will wear off tomorrow,” she shared, and if the dosage and her calculations were accurate, Enid should awaken no later than noon.

Thing tugged at Wednesday’s wrist when she grabbed her backpack. “You promised,” he said, moving his fingers, pointing at Enid.

Wednesday was well aware of the promise Enid tricked her into, and as much as Wednesday wanted to break it, she wasn’t.

“I am not going to her house,” Wednesday stated, zipping her backpack open. “I am going to the Grays’ house.”

Enid was clever to call Wednesday out on her plans to send someone else to her house, but Enid never said anything about the Grays’ house. It was the perfect loophole for Wednesday to get what she wanted and uphold her promise. Well, what she truly preferred to do was break into Esther Sinclair’s home and burn it to the ground, but turning Enid into an orphan would not help Wednesday keep her close. On the contrary, it could make her lose Enid forever, which was not acceptable.

Wednesday grabbed her torch, a rope, a pair of gloves, a watch, a headlamp, a compass, and a roll with large plastic trash bags, shoving them into her backpack as quickly as she could to avoid wasting a minute of the time she needed to complete her mission.

“You have to stay with Enid,” Wednesday told Thing while she retrieved a dagger made out of stone secured with rope around a wooden handle, and tucked it into her right boot.

Wednesday had sharpened the stone herself while preparing for a different kind of summer travels. It was not as good as her steel collection, but it was undetectable and could pierce through flesh all the same when she applied slightly more pressure. Wednesday would have liked more weapons on her person, of course, but there was no time to make wooden spears and a stone axe.

Besides, a four-year-old little runt couldn’t possibly put up much of a fight.

Thing climbed onto Wednesday’s bed and held two fingers against the side of Enid’s throat, even though her chest visibly rose and deflated with every breath she took.

“Seriously?” Wednesday hissed while she grabbed another rope. “You think I would kill my roommate?”

“Just checking,” Thing signed, moving over to lean against one of the pillows.

Wednesday tied the rope around the foot of her bed, knotting it twice to ensure it would hold before she secured her climbing harness around her waist. Plummeting to her death was not in Wednesday’s top ten choices of ways to die, and dying at her own hands would be underwhelming and inconvenient. She had unfinished business to deal with first, on top of keeping Enid safe at all costs.

Enid was fine, resting on top of the pillow Wednesday placed under Enid’s head so her neck wouldn’t be sore tomorrow. There was a little bit of chocolate on Enid’s chin that she missed while licking her lips repeatedly. Wednesday thought of leaving it there, but on second thought, she didn’t want Enid to roll over in her sleep and smear it onto her pillow.

“Always messy,” Wednesday whispered, sighing as she licked the top of her index finger. She moved her finger across Enid’s chin, gathered the chocolate, and put it in her mouth. The sweet flavor made Wednesday cringe, but it was better than spending the night away, thinking about Enid’s face.

Wednesday paused when she caught Thing looking. “If you’d like to keep all five of your fingers, you will not breathe a word of this to anyone,” Wednesday warned while she slung her backpack around her shoulders. “Are we clear?”

“Crystal,” Thing obliged, adding the Scout's honor sign.

After prying her window open, Wednesday turned to glance at Enid’s sleeping frame one last time, and then Wednesday spread her arms as she allowed herself to fall backwards. For a blissful second, she felt thrilled to be alive, but then her boots landed on the ground with a soft thud, and the moment was gone.

Getting down was an easy endeavor, but scaling the walls to get back in her room upon her return would not be as effortless. Of course, there was always the tree near her window that Wednesday could climb, after which only a five-foot jump was required to leap through her window.

Wednesday took off her climbing gear, hid it in the bushes, and retrieved the skateboard she stowed away earlier tonight while Enid was doing whatever it was that Enid did in Wednesday’s room. It was dark out by now, providing cover as Wednesday rode her skateboard to the gate. She did spike her parents’ wine with Rohypnol while her father was distracted singing a song in the kitchen, which was more potent than the sleeping pills she slipped Enid.

Once Wednesday reached the gates of her prison, she threw her skateboard over the top. The lock was not one she hadn’t cracked before, but she decided to climb to avoid leaving a trail. Wednesday gripped the iron bars, pulling herself up with each step. She was already over the gate and on her way down when her boots slipped. Wednesday expected a rough meeting with the ground that would earn her a couple of bruises and scrapes on her back, but unfortunately, her fall was broken by landing on someone else.

“Hi, little jailbird. How’s the escape going?”

“Uncle Fester,” Wednesday smiled as she got back on her feet, turning to face her uncle. “I thought you were going to wait at the airport.”

“And miss the start of the show?” Uncle Fester giggled, dusting himself off as he got up.

Wednesday had a getaway scooter hidden in the woods for emergencies, but if her uncle was here, they could use his instead. “Where is the sidecar?” she asked while she peered at the outline of a vehicle in the distance.

“There isn’t one,” Uncle Fester answered, taking a set of keys out of his pocket. “It’s a Kawasaki Ninja H2R.”

“You brought a motorcycle?” Wednesday gasped, smiling so much it physically hurt. “Can I drive?”

Uncle Fester handed over the keys, making a dream that Wednesday had since she was twelve come true. The motorcycle was a beautiful beast, all black and streamlined. It came with a four-cylinder engine with a mechanical centrifugal supercharger, and it had racing slick tires that weren’t allowed on public roads.

Wednesday put on the smallest of the two helmets resting on top, tossing the other one to her uncle. She had never driven anything other than a car during a high-speed chase, but Wednesday didn’t need lessons when she could learn by doing. The first thing she discovered, much to her dismay, was that the bike was too heavy for her to hold. To add insult to injury, Wednesday wasn’t tall enough for her feet to touch the ground.

“Hold on,” Uncle Fester said while he rushed to Wednesday’s aid, steadying the motorcycle. “Careful,” he cautioned as Wednesday got comfortable in the seat, “she goes from zero to sixty in three seconds.”

Wednesday smiled at the prospect of a thrilling ride. “Then you’d better hop on fast,” she warned, putting the key in the ignition.

“Step on it, toots!” Uncle Fester yelled as he climbed on.

The beast roared underneath Wednesday as she accelerated the speed, surpassing sixty miles an hour, then seventy, then eighty, then a hundred until she kept it steady at a breezy hundred and twenty. Wednesday had never gone this fast before, and the thrill of colliding with another vehicle in a grand explosion was exhilarating. She could increase the speed further, until it reached its limit of two hundred and fifty miles an hour, but if Wednesday died, Enid would be alone, so she didn’t.

Trees zoomed by as Wednesday zigzagged around traffic, missing a cyclist by a hair as they dove into the ditch. She could do this all night long, alas, the airport wasn’t that far, and the minutes she had spared on her schedule were useful for the pitstop she had to make before getting on the plane. Wednesday found herself thinking about Enid again, which wasn’t surprising considering this entire journey was for her.

Would Enid have wanted to go with Wednesday tonight if she had asked?

Even if Enid had said yes, Wednesday doubted she had the stomach to be her passenger. Knowing Enid, she would cling to Wednesday like a baby koala to its mother. And Enid would talk non-stop, listing every possible dangerous scenario, such as the plane going down or Isla Gray’s parents waking up in the middle of them breaking into their house. Yet, Wednesday wasn’t convinced she had made the right decision.

It had to be the distance, putting Wednesday’s mind in a state of unrest, knowing she wasn’t by Enid’s side to shield her from harm.

Wednesday slowed to a halt right outside the airport, feeling the motorbike tip sideways before her uncle planted his feet to keep it steady. As soon as Wednesday got on the plane, there was no turning back, although she burned that bridge the moment she put Enid to sleep.

“I saw my life flashing before my eyes,” Uncle Fester said while he lifted Wednesday and put her down on the ground. “What a fun little video,” he smiled, hopping off the motorcycle.

“If you tell anyone I couldn’t reach, I will gut you,” Wednesday warned her uncle, who was lucky to be one of her favorite people. Otherwise, she would not have let it slide that he picked her up when every Addams was aware of her aversion to touch.

The only exception was Thing, who was allowed to sit on Wednesday’s shoulder without facing imminent dismemberment or death.

Uncle Fester took off his helmet. “I would rather cut out my tongue than betray you,” he stated, locking his lips with an invisible key.

“Good,” Wednesday replied, taking off her helmet. “Can I drive again when we return?” she asked in advance, looking forward to feeling that alive again.

“Anything for my favorite Addams,” Uncle Fester winked, and Wednesday would say the same, but her uncle was one of three. “I can hijack the plane and let you fly. Just say the word.”

It was a tempting offer, but Wednesday would rather not add terrorist to her criminal record. She had to keep a low profile to stay off law enforcement’s radar. The speed limits she broke one road at a time just now didn’t count, of course, for there was no license plate to capture proof, and any footage they had was bound to be blurry.

Wednesday made it through the metal detector, as expected, while her uncle explained to security why his head made their machine and their wand go haywire.

Security frowned when Wednesday went through the bag check, opening her backpack to look at her supplies.

“Camping trip,” Wednesday explained, realizing a sleeping bag might have sold it more. “While my uncle is still alive to take me,” she added on a whim, drawing the sympathy card normies ate up like French fries at McDonalds.

***    

3:35 am Wednesday saw at the airport on her way out, setting her watch to the same time. They had one hour to pay the Grays a visit and return for their direct flight back, otherwise, they had to wait another hour for a plane with an overlay in Denver. It wasn’t a lot, but it would have to do.

Wednesday had to stay on track to make it back by eleven, and pretend she forgot she locked her brother in the dungeon. She did leave him a lightbulb he could use as a nightlight, and there were plenty of insects down there he could snack on. Wednesday wasn’t prone to showing such generosity to Pugsley, but he was kind to Enid during dinner and made her feel good about herself.

“Did you bring the map?” Wednesday asked while they searched the streets for a vehicle to borrow.

Uncle Fester reached inside his jacket. “This is the address my resources gave me,” he shared as he took out a map of San Francisco, where one location was circled in the woods, marked with a red X, not far from a secondary location marked with a black X. “The Grays live there,” he said, tapping the area in red. “And here-”

“The Sinclairs,” Wednesday interrupted with a curt nod, seizing the map. “Good work, Uncle Fester.”

“One of my contacts left a package at the edge of the woods,” Uncle Fester smiled as he stopped next to a jeep with a half-opened window. He stuck his arm inside to open the lock, giggling when the Rottweiler sitting on the passenger’s seat bit the sleeve of his coat. “That tickles.”

Uncle Fester opened the door and put the dog on the curb. He was about to shoo it away with a spark of his fingers when the fleabag ran off to either alert his master or get a taste of real freedom. “I didn’t even get to bite him back,” he complained as they got in. “Anyways,” he continued, grabbing the wires to start the car. “If you’re having a wolf problem, I can set up traps in the woods. Create a big bang during the next full moon that’ll blow them to pieces.”

Wednesday took a plastic bag out of her backpack and covered the length of the cushion to avoid getting hair on her clothes. It was bad enough that the inside of the jeep smelled like sticky lemonade, musky cologne, and wet dog, but Wednesday had no time to look for alternative transport.

“As much as I enjoy the image of one wolf in particular running into one of your bombs, I must decline,” Wednesday sighed, hating the fact she couldn’t physically harm Enid’s mother for Enid because of Enid. “But if you can find out what Esther Sinclair loves more than anything in the world, do let me know.”

Nothing said pain more than a broken heart, or so Wednesday had learned from observing others’ feeble emotions. Once she knew Esther’s greatest weakness, Wednesday would destroy it piece by piece, driving the dagger deeper until Enid’s mother went insane and begged for death’s cold and merciful embrace.

“Hmph,” Uncle Fester hummed while he drove. “Matters of the heart are tricky,” he said as he ran a red light, swerving to avoid a car headed straight for them, losing the mirror. “And I’m no more of an expert than you are, but if I had to guess, it might be a person. Maybe it’s her youngest kid, the weak little runt of the litter.”

“That’s impossible,” Wednesday replied, studying the map to ensure they were going in the right direction. “Her youngest is not weak, nor does she love her.”

If Esther Sinclair loved her daughter, she would accept Enid the way she was, whether she wolfed out or not. It was obvious Esther cared very little about Enid. From the moment Enid mentioned her mother, Wednesday sensed there was no bond between them. Enid could have died two nights ago, and none of her family members had reached out to ask her if she was okay. By now, the news of what went down at Nevermore had no doubt spread. And what did Enid’s mother do? She gave away her stuffed animals.

That woman did not deserve to have Enid under her roof, and if it were up to Wednesday, Esther Sinclair would never see her daughter again. Enid could stay with Wednesday and visit her grave long after she died, to annoy her as she always did, to keep Wednesday’s spirit on her toes.

“Ooh, a deer!” Uncle Fester exclaimed, speeding up as they neared the woods.

Wednesday’s body jerked forward when her uncle hit the deer, but she would rather risk going through the windshield than touch a seatbelt a dog chewed and slobbered on.

“Leave it,” Wednesday said when her uncle was about to reverse the jeep. “You can run over it again on our way back.”

“Alright,” Uncle Fester relented, continuing to drive forward. “But if it’s gone when we return, you owe me a body.”

“You can have Pugsley,” Wednesday offered, happy to sacrifice him to be slaughtered. “He’s been dead weight since the day he was born.”

Wednesday opened her backpack, taking out her gloves. She put them on and glanced at her watch, seeing that thirteen minutes had gone by since they left the airport. Wednesday stomped on her uncle’s foot, hitting the gas pedal harder until he quit driving like a normie afraid of getting a ticket. Why go forty miles over the speed limit when they could do eighty?

A minute later, they left the jeep in the ditch, next to the mile marker signaling they had arrived. One of the tires was on its last leg, and there was smoke coming from underneath the hood. Oh well, if Wednesday was going to break into someone’s home, she might as well steal their vehicle.

“So, what are we looking for?” Uncle Fester asked as they entered the woods. “Money? Family jewels? Antiques?” he guessed, smiling while he rubbed his hands together. “A grimoire on werewolves? Family journals containing their pack’s strengths, weaknesses, and secrets?”

Wednesday took out her compass and her torch, illuminating the path as she headed south. “Enid’s stuffed animals,” she answered, though the idea of getting her hands on a grimoire or journals of that kind was tempting.

While Wednesday had done her research on werewolves and other outcasts alike, she had never glimpsed upon a manuscript written by werewolves, passed down from one generation to the next. Wednesday wondered if Enid had some sort of guide, the way Wednesday had Goody’s book of shadows.  

“Ooh,” Uncle Fester said as his eyes lit up. “What kind of animals did she stuff?”

“I wasn’t referring to taxidermy,” Wednesday corrected, wishing she were. “Enid collects colorful soft toys.”

“To behead them with a guillotine?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

Wednesday increased her pace, spotting their location not far ahead of where they were now. They had forty-two minutes left to retrieve Enid’s stuffed animals and return to the airport, which should suffice if they didn’t stall.

Uncle Fester picked up a pinecone and took a bite. “Crunchy,” he hummed, leaning down to grab another one, stuffing it in his pocket.

The Grays’ home was a wooden cabin, and when Wednesday went around the back, she saw a small light coming from a window. It turned out to be a nightlight, illuminating the room of a little girl soundly asleep with a tiny black kitten curled up at the foot of her bed, and a pink unicorn wrapped up in her arms.

Wednesday pulled her dagger out of her boot and used it to loosen the moldings around the window. With the help of her uncle, she got rid of the glass without the need to break it and alert the little runt’s parents. Wednesday climbed inside, slowly moving across the wooden floorboard to detect and avoid the creaky parts, sticking to the seams.

Uncle Fester loomed over the bed. “Do you need me to stun the kid?” he asked quietly as sparks danced between his fingertips, glancing back at Wednesday.

Wednesday stared at her uncle for even thinking about using electricity on a child who wasn’t old enough to tie her own shoes. One spark from his hands on an underdeveloped outcast could leave lasting damage, and Wednesday was not a monster hellbent on harming an innocent little runt. She did not kill outcasts or anyone else thus far, though there was one particular species she wanted to see extinct, even if she had to hunt down and kill each one personally.

“She’s four,” Wednesday pointed out, glancing at the kid Enid adored.

The adoration seemed mutual, from the looks of the pink and blue braid in the little girl’s blonde curls. It was heinously eerie, in an uncomfortable way, how this was precisely what Wednesday imagined Enid looked like as a tot.

Don’t wake up, Wednesday thought, not wanting to traumatize someone resembling Enid.

Uncle Fester backed away. “How about the parents?” he asked, tiptoeing toward a bunch of stuffed animals placed on shelves up on the wall. “Can I shock them if they walk in?”

“You may, but do keep them breathing,” Wednesday decided, turning away from the little girl. “My quarrel is not with this family.”

Wednesday grabbed the roll of trash bags from her backpack, tearing off two while she joined her uncle near the wall, handing him one.

“Not that one,” Wednesday whispered when her uncle was about to throw a little wolf plushie into his bag. “It’s not part of her collection.”

Uncle Fester frowned. “How can you tell?”

“It doesn’t smell like Enid,” Wednesday explained while she picked out the ones that did. “The fragrance is different.”

“Oh, okay,” Uncle Fester replied, putting the little wolf back, and Wednesday wondered if it was a gift from Enid to Isla. “What does Enid smell like?” Uncle Fester questioned, leaning closer to the shelf, sniffing the stuffed animals.

“There is no time to explain how lovely Enid smells when she’s not gassing herself with half a bottle of perfume,” Wednesday answered, surprised Enid hadn’t complained yet about the absence of her perfume, which Wednesday conveniently neglected to pack. “Keep going.”

Once there weren’t any more of Enid’s stuffed animals in the room, Wednesday only had one left to collect. With twenty-nine minutes remaining to get back to the airport, they had to move faster.

Uncle Fester picked up the kitten from the bed and opened his mouth.

“Put the kitty down,” Wednesday commanded with a low yet stern volume. “You cannot eat her pet.”

“Why do you care about this little girl?” Uncle Fester asked while he obeyed.

“I don’t,” Wednesday corrected, not caring in the slightest. “Enid does.”

“You must really like your friend to go through all of this trouble for her.”

“I do not like Enid,” Wednesday stated to get the facts right. “She is a walking disease,” she whispered, chucking the bags out of the window frame. “I can’t spend a day near her without my allergy pills.”

The past few days with Enid had made Wednesday dig into her reserves, so she didn’t itch all over when Enid initiated physical contact. And unlike what Enid believed, Wednesday had not touched Enid’s colorful clothes when she packed her suitcase. Not with her bare hands, anyway, although Wednesday did wonder if small doses of exposure therapy would reduce her allergic reaction over time. 

Uncle Fester scratched the back of his head. “Why do you spend your days with her when she makes you sick if you don’t like her?” he asked, full of annoying questions tonight. “Why not cut her loose and go after that scalper you’ve been meaning to catch?”

Wednesday did not recall seeking her uncle’s advice regarding how she chose to spend her time.

Ignoring her uncle pondering about things he wouldn’t understand if she tried to explain, Wednesday placed her backpack on the bed. She took out a hideously fluffy stuffed animal she bought at the airport’s gift shop, having anticipated this scenario where the little girl was asleep, cuddling one of Enid’s plush toys.

Wednesday managed to make the trade without causing Isla to stir, and when she turned toward her backpack, she saw the kitten was trying to climb in. Sighing, Wednesday scooped the purring little thing up, staring while it tried to play with her thumb, scratching at her glove.

Wednesday put the kitten down and hissed at it when it tumbled off the bed and tried to follow her, not interested in housing another stray. The only kitty who was welcome by Wednesday’s side was Enid.

***  

It was 11 am when Wednesday climbed over the gate in broad daylight, after she had successfully thrown the bags over on her third attempt. Wednesday was not weak, but Enid had a large collection of stuffed animals, and Wednesday was working with an injured shoulder.

Wednesday ran as fast as she could, freezing when she spotted her mother standing beside the rope that led up to her room. But it was too late, with no darkness to slither into, her mother saw her.

“Wednesday!” her mother called out. “Where the hell have you been?” she asked, approaching in large strides. “Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been?”

Wednesday could tell her mother she wasn’t thinking about her, but it would only put a strain on the tether barely holding them together as it was.

“When your father wakes from your little stunt with his wine, we will discuss your punishment. In the meantime, I demand an explanation.”

“I did it for Enid,” Wednesday confessed, dropping her trash bags full of evidence. “Her mother gave away the collection of stuffed animals she is nauseatingly fond of, and it broke her,” she explained, feeling her blood boil at the memory freshly imprinted in her mind. “And you can punish me all you want, but I do not regret this. No torture compares to the tears in Enid’s eyes when someone hurts her.”

“Oh, Wednesday,” her mother exhaled, resting her right hand on her chest. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

I would rather jump out of the plane without a parachute than spend the mother-daughter time you think we should have, where your only goal is to turn me into a copy of you, Wednesday thought bitterly.

“You’re right,” except you aren’t. “I should have told you” nothing.

Wednesday would never be her mother’s daughter beyond sharing blood. She would never have a heart-to-heart with her, never seek her advice, never team up with her, never introduce a romantic partner to her, and never provide her with grandchildren.

“You can be excused,” her mother deflated, unusually reasonable. “But this is your only pass,” she added, holding up her index finger. “For Enid.”

“Thank you, Mother.”

Wednesday went inside, tripping her brother on the stairs as she walked past him. Alas, he only fell a couple of steps, with nothing but a lousy bloody nose to show for it.

“Good morning to you too, sis,” Pugsley grinned, wiping his nose with his sleeve. “What’s in those bags?”

“You will be if you don’t get out of my sight,” Wednesday deadpanned as she went further up the stairs.

Wednesday reached her room and slipped in silently, finding Enid still asleep where she had left her. Enid was smiling in her sleep, the way she always did when she had what she called a good dream before telling Wednesday all about it the next day. Enid’s smile was brighter than those nights when she dreamed of Ajax taking her on dates, and bored Wednesday with the details.

Perhaps Enid was dreaming about Yoko, the recipient of a heart emoji in Enid’s favorite color.

Wednesday ripped the trash bags open with her nails, pursing her lips as she piled the stuffed animals together next to Enid’s clothes. Once the colorful assault on Wednesday’s skin was sorted, she walked over to her dresser, opened the top drawer, and grabbed her allergy cream. She rubbed a thin layer on her hands, exhaling at the relief as her rash vanished.

“I’m fine,” Wednesday told Thing as he climbed onto her dresser. “You should leave now,” she requested, not wanting an audience when Enid awoke from her slumber.

Wednesday took two allergy pills, just in case surprising Enid resulted in a day full of clingy touches.

When Thing left, Wednesday kneeled beside her bed, watching the micro-expressions on Enid’s face shift, noticing the way a lock of her hair was caught on her eyelash. Wednesday hesitated for a moment to leave it be, but then Enid scrunched up her nose, so Wednesday reached out to fix it for her, to make Enid comfortable even if it made Wednesday a little queasy.

Time, however, ran out at that treacherous second.

Enid’s eyes fluttered open. “Jesus!” she gasped right when Wednesday’s fingers were about to make contact with Enid’s forehead.  

Wednesday withdrew her hand and cleared her throat. “I guess I don’t need to check for a pulse, seeing as you are awake,” she claimed while she moved to stand, straightening her back.

“You…you put something in my drink,” Enid blinked up at Wednesday, moving the blanket aside while she sat up. Enid’s eyes were wide and so blue, like the lake Wednesday nearly drowned in when she was little, until her mother pulled her out and forced her to cough up the water she had swallowed.

“Why would you…,” Enid stammered, brows creasing. “Why did you do that?”

“I had to make sure you wouldn’t try and stop me.”

“Oh, no,” Enid shook her head. “What did you do? Where did you go?”

“After putting you to sleep, I took a plane to San Francisco to retrieve your beloved collection,” Wednesday answered, gesturing at the colorful display in her room. “I did not go to your house, and no harm befell the Grays. And while I am aware you may not have wanted this, I can’t tolerate an entire summer of you crying over a fixable issue. Therefore, this had to be done, and—”

Wednesday faltered when Enid smiled at her, losing track of her thoughts.

Enid bit her lip, which only made it worse. “You stayed up all night?” she asked, brushing her fingers through her hair, tucking it behind her ears where Wednesday knew it wouldn’t stay because it never did.

Wednesday shook her head. “I slept on the plane,” she answered, which was not part of her original plan, but it was a surprisingly wonderful flight. “The turbulence and the screams of terror were music to my ears,” she recalled fondly, wishing she could have recorded it to play on nights when she couldn’t sleep.

“Sounds like a nightmare,” Enid grimaced. “But I’m glad you slept well,” she added with a smile.

“I brought you a gift from my travels,” Wednesday shared while she retrieved a stuffed animal from her backpack. “For your collection,” she explained, holding it up by the white tag with care instructions to avoid unnecessary contamination.

“It’s…pink,” Enid stated, staring at the plush little monstrosity that was supposed to resemble an elephant.

“I’m aware,” Wednesday responded, dangling it closer until Enid took it from her.

Wednesday preferred the black bear or the striped zebra she saw at the gift shop, if she had to pick one at gunpoint, but Enid’s favorite color was pink.

“I love it,” Enid claimed, hugging the elephant to her chest before putting it with the rest of her stuffed animals. “I think I’ll name her Rosie or better yet, Elli, as in elephant.”

Wednesday would suggest aw as in awful, but at least Enid was happy and that was all that mattered.

“I can’t believe you did all of this for me,” Enid stated, biting back a smile. “You’re the best,” she claimed, bouncing on her feet. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Enid reached out for a hug but stopped herself a few inches short of touching Wednesday, who was about to lean in to accept the contact. Instead, Enid wrapped her arms around herself.

“Go ahead,” Wednesday sighed, bracing for impact. “Hug me before I change my mind.”

Enid put her arms around Wednesday’s waist, soft and slow as though she doubted the offer was real. Wednesday returned the gesture, wrapping her arms around Enid, feeling the little wolf’s warm cheek brush against her neck as Enid nuzzled her face there.

Wednesday stiffened when Enid’s hands caressed her back, moving in random patterns. It was new and strange, but then Wednesday felt the slight scrape of Enid’s nails, familiar and welcome as it added a sensation Wednesday appreciated. Unlike the hug, which was getting tighter with every passing second.

“E-Enid,” Wednesday wheezed, wincing at the firm pressure. “I…can’t…breathe.”

“Oh, I know,” Enid replied, squeezing a little bit harder. “And if you drug me again,” she whispered, her breath hot in Wednesday’s ear, “you really won’t be able to breathe.”

Wednesday’s chest constricted, and when Enid let go, Wednesday still couldn’t breathe quite right.

Chapter Text

Enid had expected an angry message from her mother by now, questioning why her stuffed animals went missing from Isla’s home the night after her mother told her she got rid of them, but she hadn’t received any texts or calls yet. Maybe Mrs. Gray and Mr. Gray hadn’t told anyone about the break-in because nothing else was taken, and they didn’t want to make a scene or admit they didn’t realize they had an intruder. Enid did feel kind of bad for Isla, who was probably very happy when she was gifted such a large collection of cuddly friends, and likely woke up sad when she saw they were gone.

Wednesday was insane for having gone all the way to San Francisco, entering the woods that housed the second-largest werewolf pack in their country, with numbers that grew every year because they wanted to be the biggest. It was a huge relief that Wednesday didn’t go during a full moon, but it was still extremely dangerous to face werewolves in their human form. Even the little ones, like Isla, who clawed out a boy’s left eye last summer because he was calling her names and was standing too close when she lashed out.

Enid’s stomach turned uncomfortably at the thought of the pack pouncing on her best friend. She still couldn’t believe the surprise that awaited her yesterday when she woke up, because it felt surreal. But it was real, and so was the surprise Wednesday presented to her this morning. Enid wished it was just a dream this time, but unfortunately, she was wide awake.

Where Monday morning had been sweet and really nice – minus the realization that she’d been drugged, which was just wrong and not to mention borderline criminal – this Tuesday morning was pretty much the opposite.

“Oh,” Enid clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth while she looked at the sword and the white fencing gear next to her stuff in her little corner of Wednesday’s room. “Um,” Enid swallowed, moving the sheets aside. “Why do you want to fight me exactly?”

“I mean,” Enid added before her peculiar best friend could reply. “I know you dared me to, but why?”

“Relax, Enid, it is not a fight to the death,” Wednesday deflected when Enid just wanted a straight answer from Wednesday. “You have four days left to prepare.”

It was cute that Wednesday thought Enid was scared, and while she kind of was, she wasn’t worried that Wednesday would hurt her, but rather that she would lose control and defend herself with her claws in the heat of the moment. Wednesday was just so good at poking and pushing Enid into a state of pure frustration, and she hadn’t felt the same since she wolfed out. She could feel it in her bones, lingering like the moon was still with her.

“Four whole days?” Enid gasped, smiling as she got up. She stretched out her arms and craned her neck. “How generous,” she mocked, though not even four weeks would be enough to rival Wednesday’s fencing skills.

Enid had never even picked up a sword until she went to Nevermore, where she had to because it was a part of the school’s curriculum, and the nurse didn’t believe her when she skipped class a second time, claiming she had a migraine. It did get better after that because Yoko offered to spar with her, and Yoko was really patient with Enid while she learned the basics of fencing.

“Hold still,” Wednesday said suddenly, and that was the only warning Enid got before Wednesday was in her personal space.

Wednesday grasped Enid’s chin, and like a jolt of electricity, her brain caught up to the fact that Wednesday was right in front of her, touching her. Enid thought Wednesday was mad at first, but then her iron grip softened, her cool fingers lingering on Enid’s skin while urging her head sideways until she complied. From the corner of her eye, she saw Wednesday studying her like she was slowly undressing her, peeling away one layer at a time until she could see into Enid’s soul.

Intense gaze aside, it felt nice to feel Wednesday’s fingers on her skin. Enid ran so hot as a wolf that it felt soothing whenever Wednesday allowed physical contact, like getting ice cream on a warm summer day. Enid had no idea what Wednesday was doing or what she was looking for, but she didn’t mind Wednesday taking her time. And Enid wanted to tell Yoko how nice Wednesday’s fingers were, but then she would have to reveal that Wednesday had touched her and explain they had held hands before.

Yoko could keep a secret, though. She hadn’t told anyone the major secret Enid shared with her when they were roommates.

“It’s time to remove your stitches,” Wednesday announced while she dropped her hand, raising a brow when Enid whined at the sudden loss of contact. “I have to remove them, Enid,” Wednesday pressed, thankfully not a mind reader. “Otherwise, they’ll get infected, and your skin might grow over them.”

“Okay,” Enid sighed, plopping down on Wednesday’s bed.

Enid did look forward to getting rid of her stitches, but not the part where they had to be removed. She was not a fan of pain, and she didn’t want to have to bite down on something again. It hurt when she got those stitches, though Enid’s wounds had healed a lot since that night, so maybe it would hurt less this time around. Plus, Wednesday was nowhere near as cruel as most people believed she was. Scary exterior or not, Enid highly doubted Wednesday would harm her.

Wednesday settled on her bed next to Enid, holding a silver-colored tin box. The sight made her swallow, and it was silly because, logically, Enid knew it was just metal that looked like silver rather than actual silver. And the pair of scissors that Wednesday grabbed from the box wasn’t made out of silver either, but it still caused Enid to flinch.

“Sorry,” Enid mumbled, taking a deep breath. “It’s stupid, but I got hurt by silver once, and I know that’s not silver, but it looks like silver,” she explained while she tried to pull herself together.

Enid wrung her hands, feeling sweaty all of a sudden, and deep down she knew she had nothing to fear, but her brain wasn’t quite getting the message and kept prompting her to run. Silver was just really, really bad for wolves. Like, way worse than a vampire’s allergy to garlic. It burned like fire, and it could kill Enid if it came into contact with one of her vital organs.

“I was nine when it happened,” Enid shared, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth at the memory. “I was playing in the woods when I felt something prick my foot through my shoe. The pain was unlike anything I had ever felt. It hurt so bad, and I screamed so loud, my dad came running. Turns out, it was a silver nail on a wooden plank, hidden beneath a pile of leaves. I never discovered who put it there, but we did have poachers that year, so it was probably them.”

The wound it left took weeks to heal, and it never went away entirely because Enid was stuck with a little round scar on the heel of her right foot. She hated that it happened in a place where she was supposed to be safe; hell, she hated that it happened at all, but at least it was very easy to cover up. And nobody outside of her family knew it was there. Enid never even told anyone about that day until now. Until Wednesday.

“Enid,” Wednesday said, extending her pinky. “I swear I shall never expose you to silver.”

Enid wrapped her pinky around Wednesday’s, smiling at the sweet, earnest gesture, which meant way more to Enid than she could say. She hoped Wednesday wasn’t grossed out by her clammy skin, but if she was, it was impossible to tell because Wednesday’s face was perfectly straight. Her grip was just as bruising as the first time they locked in a pinky promise, but Enid could handle Wednesday’s surprising strength.

Wednesday wriggled her finger free. “May I proceed?” she asked, and her continued kindness made Enid feel much better.

“Yes,” Enid exhaled, putting her hands in her lap. “I trust you.”

Wednesday’s dark eyes lingered for a couple of seconds like she wanted to say something, but then she adjusted her grip on the scissors and leaned in close. Her breath was warmer than Enid expected it to be as a puff of air touched her face, and if she had to take a guess as to why Wednesday was breathing so hard, Enid would say that Wednesday was most likely picturing herself flaying those poachers alive.

Enid wanted to move her head, but she should probably hold still, and she couldn’t see her cheek without a mirror anyway. There was a bit of tugging as Wednesday removed the stitches there, but it didn’t hurt. Her fingers were nimble and gentle, and so soothing every time her fingertips fluttered against Enid’s skin. Her neck, on the other hand, was more sensitive, but the pain was minimal. Wednesday didn’t rush, and she didn’t pull hard, and she paused for a moment after every stitch she undid, like she was checking if Enid was still okay.

“Wednesday, can I ask you something that might sound weird?” Enid questioned when Wednesday was done removing the last of her stitches.

Wednesday put the scissors back in the tin box. “I assume you’ll ask either way,” she replied, and she wasn’t wrong, but still.

“Well, then?” Wednesday prompted, turning so they were face-to-face. “What is it, Enid?”

“Could you…Would you…,” Enid trailed off, finding it hard to maintain eye contact right now. “Can you put your hand on my neck, just for a minute? It’s a bit sore, and the coldness of your skin really helps.”

Wednesday’s gaze dropped to Enid’s neck before meeting her eyes again. “Do you need me to fetch you an ice pack?” Wednesday offered while she swung her legs over the edge of her bed.

“No, no, ice packs are too cold,” Enid replied, which sounded silly for a wolf, but it was true. “I just need you.”

Enid considered pleading, but she didn’t want to force Wednesday into doing something she really didn’t want to. Physical contact wasn’t as natural as breathing for Wednesday, like it was for Enid, whose favorite love language was touch. Plus, Wednesday had done more than enough to make Enid happy and show how much their friendship mattered.

“I must admit,” Wednesday said while she reached out, “this is not how I pictured my hand on your neck.”

“You fantasized about touching me?” Enid smiled at Wednesday trying and failing to uphold her little psychopath act.

“You know that is not what I meant,” Wednesday said through gritted teeth. “Do not tempt me to demonstrate,” she warned, pressing her thumb lightly against Enid’s throat.

Enid shouldn’t be smiling right now, but it was nice to know she could get under Wednesday’s skin as easily as Wednesday got under hers. And strong grip or not, that little cutie was no match for Enid, even while she was in her human form. But Enid wasn’t looking for a playful fight because the risk of it turning into a real one was too high.

“How does my skin look?” Enid asked to shift the attention and diffuse the frustration her poking had caused.

“Pink,” Wednesday answered while her cool fingers traced a line down Enid’s cheek and neck. “But not the ugly kind,” Wednesday added, dropping her hand, and Enid guessed that minute was over by now.

“Do you really think my face would look perfect if the scar never went away?”

“Always,” Wednesday exhaled, and the way she breathed that single word like a promise, with unwavering confidence and earnest eyes, made Enid’s heart skip a beat.

“Okay,” Enid nodded, smiling at her BFF, which was a title that Wednesday had earned by now. “But if nobody wants me like this, I’m staying with you,” Enid joked, getting up so she could pick out an outfit and maybe try on one of her new clothes, now that they were washed and dried.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Enid,” Wednesday huffed incredulously behind her. “What kind of kidnapper would I be if I let my hostage go?”

Enid was not prepared for the sight that greeted her when she turned around, because not only was Wednesday kidding along with her, Wednesday was smiling. And it was beautiful and adorable because dimples. Wednesday Addams had dimples in her cheeks when she smiled!

“I love your smile,” Enid blurted out, grimacing when her enthusiasm promptly made said smile disappear.

Wednesday blinked. “I was smiling?”

“You were,” Enid nodded. “Hand to the moon, you were,” she swore, surprised that Wednesday didn’t realize she was smiling when she was so freakishly good at controlling her facial expressions.

“Curious,” Wednesday hummed while she moved to stand. “Stockholm syndrome is generally reserved for the victim, not the captor.”

Enid rolled her eyes at the remark, knowing that Wednesday was just being Wednesday, thinking how it didn’t take away the fact that she smiled. Yoko and Divina were not going to believe Enid when she told them, and unfortunately, she had no evidence other than swearing it wasn’t a hallucination or a dream.

“Do you need a hand with your stitches?” Enid offered, guessing that Wednesday was hiding her wound from her parents because Enid hadn’t heard her mention it once, and she always kept it covered up. “I mean, I have like literally zero experience, but I’m sure you could tell me what to do.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Wednesday replied, lifting her chin ever so slightly. “I’ll rip mine out next week.”

“O-kay,” Enid blinked, and she hoped Wednesday wouldn’t actually pull hers out so violently, but Enid wouldn’t be surprised if she did.

***   

While Wednesday requested some alone time to write and practice her cello without an audience, Enid decided to uphold the promise she made Thing two days ago. But first, Enid wanted to say hi to Nyx and Erebus, just for five minutes, because they were probably sleeping anyway or getting ready to take a nap.

Enid opened the door to the Moonlit Manor, feeling around for the light until she found the switch. She spotted Nyx in the tree, hanging upside down on a little swing attached to one of the branches. Nyx’s beady black eyes stared at Enid while her tiny hands grabbed the air.

“Hold on, little cutiepie,” Enid called out, smiling as she made her way over to the tree. “Here you go,” she said, holding her right hand out near the swing.

Nyx accepted the invitation immediately, climbing onto Enid’s open palm. The longer she stayed with Wednesday, the more Enid realized why Wednesday chose such cute little pets rather than a Python or an alligator, like Pugsley had.

“I missed you too, sweet girl,” Enid cooed, stroking the top of Nyx’s head. “Now, where is—”

Enid laughed when Erebus glided toward her, landing in her hair, which he seemed to like doing.

“My hair is not a nest, buddy,” Enid sighed softly, reaching for the clumsy little creature, whose eyesight didn’t seem all that well.

Erebus chirped, clinging to Enid’s hand like he was telling her not to put him down, and she wasn’t planning to just yet. Enid couldn’t stay too long either, though, considering her promise to Thing was already more than a day overdue. Plus, the adorable pair needed a lot of sleep during the day, so Enid shouldn’t keep them up much longer.

“You two are so cute, like your mother,” Enid whispered, smiling at the fact that Wednesday had called herself Erebus and Nyx’s mother. “She’d kill me if she heard me calling her cute, but you two can keep a secret, right?”

Wednesday really was a cutie, even more so now that Enid knew what she looked like with a smile on her face. She hoped to see Wednesday smile more often, preferably every day, but considering the fact that she hinted at it being accidental made it unlikely that she would smile again soon. Nonetheless, Enid did make her smile once, so there was hope she could do it again. Because it had to have been Enid’s doing.

Enid kept replaying that moment in her head, over and over, frame by frame. She thought about how she had joked about staying with Wednesday if nobody wanted her because of her scars, and how she had assumed that would have been the end of their conversation. But then Wednesday teased her about how she wouldn’t let her go, calling herself Enid’s captor. And just like that, the smile™ happened.

So, in conclusion, Enid knew two things for sure. Number one, Wednesday smiled because of her. And number two, Wednesday Addams was definitely the prettiest girl at Nevermore.

“I have to go now,” Enid told Wednesday’s furbabies. “I’m sorry, guys,” Enid apologized as she put Nyx and Erebus back in their tree. “But I’ll visit again soon, okay?”

Enid turned off the light on her way out. The drop in temperature when she stepped out into the hall made her shiver for a second before she adjusted, and she wondered if the Addams family had some kind of air conditioning system blowing cold wind into their house because it was summer, after all, so it was supposed to be warm. But they didn’t have any windows that actually let the sunlight in, and maybe the walls were isolated really well.

“Two lefts and a right,” Enid mumbled to herself while she recalled the directions Wednesday gave her. “Second door behind the statue,” Enid continued, passing by a statue of the grim reaper holding a scythe, shrieking when a spider climbed out of one of its hollow eyes.

It wasn’t a tiny spider either, and oh, God, Enid really wasn’t a fan of creepy crawlers.

“Nice, not so itsy bitsy spider,” Enid shivered as she walked in a bow around the statue. “Please don’t be one of those jumping spiders,” she whispered, exhaling when the spider crawled into the grim reaper’s other eye.

Enid knocked on Thing’s door and waited, glancing at the statue just in case the spider came back. Thankfully, the door creaked open, and when Enid rushed inside, she saw Thing’s fingers wrapped around the handle.

“Hi, Thing,” Enid waved. “How’s it hanging?”

Thing let go of the handle, dropping onto the floor. He shrugged and pushed his door shut.

“I’m sorry I didn’t stop by sooner,” Enid apologized, chewing her lip because she should have visited Thing yesterday. “Will you forgive me if I give you a proper manicure and let you use my favorite nail polish?”

“Forgive what?” Thing signed, followed by a thumbs-up.

“You’re the best,” Enid smiled, happy that he wasn’t mad at her.

Enid looked up, gasping quietly when she saw a little runway complete with a red carpet and spotlights, leading up to a mirror attached to the wall. Right next to the carpet was a jewelry box filled with rings, from plain ones to very sparkly ones with diamonds, and rings that shone like only real silver did. Thing also had a chest full of gloves, most of them fingerless and black, and a collection of Victorian-esque wrist cuffs he probably strutted around in on his personal little catwalk. 

“OMG, Thing!” Enid exclaimed, taking in the arrangement of colorful pillows on Thing’s bed, which was almost as big as Wednesday’s bed, but still bigger than the one Enid had at home. “I love your room!”

“More than Wednesday’s?”

“Yes, more than hers,” Enid confirmed, although Wednesday’s room did come with a great roomie.

“But she did put my stuffed animals in her room, so it might be a tie,” Enid reconsidered, and the black theme suited Wednesday, who abhorred color so much she acted like she was actually allergic to anything that wasn’t black or white.

“You can put them in my room.”

“Aww, Thing, I like being roommates with you, too,” Enid smiled brightly at the offer. “But I pinky promised Wednesday to be hers.”

Thing shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

Enid settled on Thing’s bed while Thing gathered his supplies from a drawer filled with nail polishes and creams that put Enid’s collection to shame. Thing had every color of the rainbow, including one bottle of nail polish that actually looked like a rainbow. It was so pretty, Enid couldn’t wait to get her nails done.

“My birthday is coming up next Wednesday,” Enid shared while she put nail polish remover on a cotton pad, and she had tried not to think about it, but with it only being eight days away, it was hard not to.

“My parents don’t really celebrate my birthdays,” Enid explained, in case Thing wondered why she wasn’t itching to go home. “But I’ll probably get a text from them, and my dad might put some money on my card.”

Turning seventeen wasn’t a big deal anyway, and Enid’s sweet sixteen wasn’t a total bust either because she had celebrated it with Isla, and Isla’s mother had baked a cake with lots of frosting while Isla’s father put up balloons and decorations everywhere. Sometimes, Enid wished she had been born into their family instead of hers, so she could have a mother who loved her, and a sibling she’d actually like.

Isla’s parents were hip and young, and considered a bit controversial because their bloodline wasn’t all werewolves, which was a big no for their species. But because their blood wasn’t polluted, as Enid’s parents called werewolves who mated with non-werewolves, Mr. and Mrs. Gray were accepted into the pack. Enid didn’t know the story, but according to rumors she had heard, Isla’s aunt – and Mrs. Gray’s sister – married a siren.

Land and water shouldn’t mix, but Enid didn’t see why they couldn’t as long as they were happy.

***   

Wednesday stared when Enid exited the bathroom, ready to get comfortable under the sheets, only to falter mid-way there because Wednesday’s eyes kept following her, like one of those paintings on the wall at a museum that couldn’t move but looked like they did.

“Um…,” Enid said while she stopped. “Is something wrong?”

Wednesday’s gaze traveled down, and then slowly back up. “What are you wearing?”

“It’s a babydoll,” Enid answered, glancing down at the pajamas she got on their shopping trip because it looked cute and pretty, even though it had zero color or fun patterns. “White is allowed in your bed, right?”

If it wasn’t, for whatever reason Wednesday decided to give, Enid could totally get changed into one of the black things she picked out. Like the silk top with the shorts that was almost as smooth as Wednesday’s nightgown, or that lacy dress that was kind of see-through but only exposed a portion of her stomach.

“The color is fine,” Wednesday declared, which sounded promising, and yet Enid felt like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop or hit her in the face. “But why must you sleep in lingerie?” Wednesday asked, and there that darn second shoe was.

Wait, what? What did Wednesday say? What did she call Enid’s pajamas?

“Wha—” Enid spluttered, feeling her face getting hot because babydolls weren’t some kind of sexy underwear. “This is not lingerie,” she shook her head, eyes wide. “It’s not,” she insisted, though she wasn’t so sure anymore because what if it was?

Enid swallowed. “Is it?” she questioned while she struggled to remember which section she found it in exactly, although she could have sworn it was very close to other dresses specifically intended to wear to bed.  

“You have a cellular device, Enid,” Wednesday deadpanned, turning on her heel. “Look it up.”

“Oh, God,” Enid groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Kill me now.”

“I prefer you alive,” Wednesday replied, turning back to look at Enid.

That was a lovely sentiment, and it was good to know, because if Enid was about to die from embarrassment, then Wednesday could resuscitate her.

“Okay, well…,” Enid said as she decided to accept her little outfit mishap. “Lingerie or not, I like it,” she stated honestly and without shame this time because while it was unintentional, nobody else would see it anyway. “And it’s just us girls in here,” she told Wednesday, who could wear lingerie too if she wanted, because Enid wouldn’t mind.

“So, if it bothers you…,” Enid continued when she was met with silence. “Then you’ll just have to lend me one of your nightgowns again,” she stated with a shrug and a smile. “Permanently,” she added, mentally crossing her fingers that she could get her hands on one sometime this summer.

“I see,” Wednesday pursed her lips for a second. “This is a mere ploy to steal my belongings.”

“It didn’t start out that way, but yes,” Enid nodded, guilty as charged.

“While I can’t deny preferring my wardrobe over yours, I do not condone people raiding my closet,” Wednesday said so seriously it was kind of adorable watching her puff out her chest a little, like she was trying to make herself seem tougher. As if she could ever hide what a softie she was underneath her scary goth appearance. “It lacks originality, and you are far too unique to submit to such subpar behavior.”

Enid sensed a compliment in there, but if she pointed it out, Wednesday would only deny that she gave her one or claim she was stating a fact. Wednesday did make a good point because Enid wouldn’t want anyone to copy her either, but if Wednesday ever wanted to borrow something of hers, Enid would loan it to her in a heartbeat.

“I guess it’s settled then,” Enid declared as she walked toward her roomie’s bed. “Good night, Wednesday.”

“You played me,” Wednesday said while she approached the other side of her bed. “What a sly little wolf you are.”

Enid’s jaw dropped before she composed herself. “What did you call me?” she asked, though she didn’t need Wednesday to repeat herself to know the answer.

“You heard me,” Wednesday claimed with a cheeky smirk, and oh, God, seeing her smirk was just as cute as seeing her smile. “Night, Enid,” Wednesday exhaled while she climbed into bed.

“Night, cutie,” Enid replied as she got under the sheets.

Wednesday lifted her head above the pillows. “What did you say?” she grumbled, probably contemplating which pillow to smack Enid with first.

Enid propped herself up on her elbow and smiled. “You heard me.”

Chapter Text

“Wednesday, darling,” her mother called out when they passed one another in the hallway. “Have you seen my silverware?”

“I have,” Wednesday answered with a curt nod, though she didn’t need her mother’s judging glance to know that those two words wouldn’t be enough to terminate her search. “It’s in the dungeon along with everything else crafted from silver,” Wednesday revealed, quite favoring storing it there for the foreseeable future, if not perpetually.

Wednesday made a vow yesterday to never expose Enid to silver, utilizing Enid’s weak version of a sacred oath. Nonetheless, sworn in blood or not, Wednesday intended to keep her word, and therefore couldn’t tolerate silver under their roof as long as Enid was with them. So, Wednesday took her mother’s cups, platters, knives, forks, and spoons, as well as Thing’s assortment of silver rings, her father’s collection of watches, Pugsley’s coins, and various candlesticks and photo frames. 

Her mother frowned, and if her mother hadn’t been so absorbed in her morning activities with her father, she would have noticed it wasn’t only her silverware that had disappeared. “You woke up at the break of dawn to throw all of our silver in the dungeon?” she asked, voice dripping with the disapproval Wednesday had heard since her mother discovered that she was a raven.

If she were a dove like her mother, perhaps things would have been different between them. But Wednesday couldn’t change who she was any more than her mother could, whose will she would never bend to. And disappointment or not, Wednesday needed her psychic abilities as a raven to protect her family from danger and keep them from dying. Sometimes, she wished she would care less, so she could forge her own path, without looking back. Alas, Wednesday was not strong enough to sever ties with her family. On the contrary, she feared her mother would cast her out, leading her to spend her life alone, as Goody had told Wednesday she would be.

The path of a raven is a solitary one, Goody had spoken like it was written in stone.

The foresight of solitude should have made Wednesday happy, but it didn’t. She hated that she yearned for company, to face her foes with allies by her side.

“Wednesday?” her mother prompted, and Wednesday detected no disgruntled tone in her voice this time.

“I overslept,” Wednesday responded, which was unfortunate considering she had hoped to avoid running into her family. Particularly her mother. “But yes, I did. In honor of an oath I swore to Enid, who, mind you, is a werewolf,” she explained, straightening her back to stand taller. “And you know as well as I do that in our family, our word is as binding as a legal contract.”

Her mother exhaled audibly. “She means a lot to you, doesn’t she?” she commented with a strange twinkle in her eyes, and a sense of warmth she didn’t have. At least, not for Wednesday. Not for a raven.

Wednesday knew where she stood with her mother. Preferably at least two feet apart, with their backs turned to one another.

“Enid saved my life, for reasons I may never fully grasp,” Wednesday said, so regarding that, her mother was not wrong that she had grown to care for the very roommate she could not stand when they first met.

Enid put her life on the line to save Wednesday and nearly died as a result of her decision. It was as though Enid wanted to trade Wednesday’s life for hers, to take her place on death’s doorstep, even though Wednesday had failed to be the friend Enid deserved. Wednesday didn’t know what drove Enid to save her, but she was grateful and ready to spend the remainder of her life protecting Enid.

“I would burn all of the silver in the world for her,” Wednesday declared, and if she found out who those poachers were, she would burn them, too.

Her mother smiled at her, which was most unsettling. “I’ll have Lurch dispose of our silver at once,” her mother announced, rather than demanding Wednesday to put it back, regardless of her promise.

“You will?” Wednesday responded, relaxing her shoulders a tad now that there was no verbal fight to brace for. “Why?” she questioned, wondering if her mother had a fever that had made her delirious.

Her mother reached out in the empty space between them, brushing her hand in the air near Wednesday’s cheek. She moved her eyes to watch her mother’s fingertips, which were close to making contact with her skin, but didn’t. It was an odd gesture, and while it wasn’t an unfamiliar one, it was usually Wednesday’s arm her mother almost touched.

“You are my daughter,” her mother whispered with a teary smile.

Wednesday’s ribs ached uncomfortably, though she couldn’t fathom what had wounded her.

“Come join your father and me for breakfast in an hour,” her mother requested while she lowered her arm to her side. “I’ll have a quad over ice waiting for you, and a venti furraccino with two pumps of chocolate, one pump of strawberry, and an extra pump of steak sauce for Enid.”

It was news to Wednesday that her mother knew Enid’s favorite drink, although her mother had been rather curious when it came to Enid, asking her a series of questions, such as what drew her to Nevermore. The answer? Enid’s parents, who went to Nevermore and graduated a year before Wednesday’s parents enrolled there.

“Mother,” Wednesday said before her mother resumed her stroll. 

“Yes, my little raven?”

Wednesday’s eyes hardened at the nickname, which served as a mockery for their differences and the divide it had created between them. Her mother might as well outright call her ‘my little failure’ instead, for it would be no less cruel than reminding her that she was a raven when her mother wanted a dove.

“How goes the search for an interior designer?” Wednesday questioned, awaiting the opportunity to reclaim the other half of her room before Enid’s colorful items tainted it further. “Has father contacted one?”

“It has been a fruitless endeavor so far, but we caught wind of one in Zurich, who might have the portfolio to match Enid’s taste.”

“Fine, I suppose I can suffer a little longer,” Wednesday responded, used to a life filled with torment.

With those parting words, Wednesday continued to roam the hallways, to check on Erebus and Nyx before returning to her room to see if Enid had woken from the dream that caused her to mumble incoherently in her sleep. The only words that Wednesday did understand from her roommate, afflicted with a severe case of sleeptalking rather than sleepwalking, were cute, soft, and pretty.

Wednesday had half-expected to hear Enid say Yoko’s name, and she would have taped Enid’s mouth shut if she had. If Enid continued whispering nonsense in her sleep every night, however, Wednesday would have no choice but to resort to any means necessary to keep her quiet.

When Wednesday entered the Moonlit Manor, neither Nyx nor Erebus was anywhere to be found. Wednesday’s parents knew better than to remove them from their room, and not even Pugsley would be stupid enough to try that again after Wednesday threatened to put his alligator on the menu, which left only one possible culprit.

Wednesday marched toward her room, but when she opened her door, she refrained from voicing her discontent. Enid sat on the floor at the foot of Wednesday’s bed, clad in a black shirt with an orange cat on the front, along with the words ‘I’m feline fine’, over a pair of black leggings that revealed how fit her legs were. Not that Wednesday hadn’t noticed before, given Enid’s choice of sleeping attire last night, which provided ample view of her muscular calves and thighs.

Erebus and Nyx were tucked under the collar of the ridiculous t-shirt, with their little heads poking out and resting against Enid’s collarbones. Wednesday tiptoed closer until Enid flashed her a smile as their eyes met.

“Morning, roomie,” Enid whispered, patting the space next to her. “I’m keeping them warm,” she said quietly, glancing down at Nyx and Erebus, who no doubt enjoyed the little wolf’s constant heat.

“Morning, Enid,” Wednesday exhaled, crouching down in front of Enid, whose surprising outfits as of recently weren’t all that terrible, minus the pun.

“I woke up and went to say hi, but they kind of fell asleep and they looked too comfortable to move,” Enid explained silently, blinking every few seconds, likely due to the lock of hair that kept getting caught in one of her eyelashes. “And I wanted to be here when you came back from whatever you snuck out to do, so I figured it would be okay. Because I’m hot. I run hot, I mean.”

Wednesday knew what Enid meant, remembering all too well what it felt like to be enveloped in Enid’s warmth.

Enid chewed her lip for a moment. “You must have woken up really early,” she commented, though it wasn’t as early as Wednesday had preferred. “I did not grind my canines in my sleep again, did I?” Enid asked, reminding Wednesday of a nuisance she once pointed out to pretend she didn’t care that Enid went to sleep in Yoko’s room.

“You did not,” Wednesday answered, deciding to keep Enid talking in her sleep to herself for now.

Wednesday reached out to caress the top of Nyx’s head, realizing too late where her hand was until she accidentally brushed her finger against Enid’s collarbone, who shivered at the contact.

“That was inappropriate of me,” Wednesday said as she pulled her hand away. “I apologize.”

“It’s okay, I really don’t mind,” Enid whispered, smiling in that way that did wicked things to Wednesday’s stomach, beyond succumbing to the flu. “You just caught me off guard there, Wednesday.”

“Why are you whispering?” Wednesday wondered out loud.

“I don’t want to wake our furbabies.”

Wednesday stared as the answer registered. “Our what?”

“Uh, yours. I meant yours,” Enid spluttered, grimacing for a second. “But maybe we can kind of co-parent them while I’m here?”

“You want to co-parent my chil—my pets, who, for your information, are not furbabies,” Wednesday responded, appalled by her beautiful sugar gliders being called a word werewolves might use to refer to their flea-riddled offspring.

“Please?” Enid whispered, batting her eyes. “We’d be great partners, like Thelma and Louise.”

Wednesday was not familiar with the reference, which was irrelevant either way, as was Enid’s poor attempt at begging. Erebus and Nyx were not furs, and they weren’t Enid’s children. Wednesday could tolerate sharing her room for a while, but she drew the line at her pets.

Nyx should have bitten Enid.

***   

The next morning, Wednesday went outside after a refreshing cup of coffee to practice her aim before the sun reached its peak on this dreadful summer day. She put her black leather briefcase on the ground and clicked it open to look at the small set of her sharpest knives. This collection of six was a gift which Wednesday received from her Uncle Fester, after she successfully disarmed him in a blindfolded sword fight three winters ago.

Each dagger was passed down from one Addams to another, and Wednesday was convinced that the one with the initials G.A. carved into the hilt belonged to Goody. At first, Wednesday had assumed it was her father’s, but he had told her it wasn’t when she inquired about the dagger with the jagged edges and curved tip. The raven’s head at the bottom of the handle should have given away its owner immediately, though Wednesday hadn’t heard of Goody until she met her in a vision.

“Focus,” Wednesday said to herself when she felt her eyes sting.

There was no point in wallowing over a lost spirit or the fact that there may not be another to guide her. Wednesday did not need help, although some guidance would be preferable to master her abilities. But Goody was gone, and it was Wednesday’s fault for turning her back on Thornhill to check on Weems.

Wednesday grabbed one of her daggers and flung it at the target Lurch set up for her. The blade lodged itself in the heart of the dummy, and while it was a decent throw, it wasn’t as satisfying as a live target. Unfortunately, her parents prohibited her from using her brother as a target after he lost a toe. It was an accident, of course. Wednesday had aimed for Pugsley’s foot, but he moved to catch a butterfly.

Wednesday clutched a dagger between her teeth, ducked and rolled, before jumping back up on her feet and aiming for her target’s head. The blade whooshed as it zipped through the air, piercing itself between the dummy’s eyes, which was fine, but still unsatisfactory without blood and someone screaming.

The snapping sound of fingers told Wednesday she was no longer alone.

Thing snapped his fingers twice more, tapping the ground when Wednesday looked at him.

Wednesday grabbed another dagger from her briefcase, tossed it in the air, and caught it by the blade. She considered throwing it at Thing for interrupting her training session, but after nearly losing him to a knife wound, Wednesday chose to spare him, for now.

“What?” Wednesday bit out, and this better be important, considering how sparse her alone time had been since she brought Enid home with her.

Thing moved his fingers as fast as he could. “Enid’s birthday is next week,” he revealed, which did not sound as urgent of a matter as he made it seem.

Then again, Enid had shown a particular fondness for celebrating the day people were forced onto this plane of existence, as was evident by her subterfuge when she lured Wednesday out into the woods and sprung a surprise party on her in Crackstone’s crypt. The location was acceptable for social gatherings, but two-thirds of the company – commonly known as Yoko, Divina, Kent, and Ajax or nuisance number one through four – weren’t.

And Wednesday had made it excruciatingly clear to Thing that the only day to warrant a party would be her funeral, unless he wanted his to happen sooner. Wednesday’s mind hadn’t changed, and while she would rather put her dagger through her skull than acknowledge someone’s birthday as though it were a joyous occasion warranting presents and hideously saccharine creations, Wednesday could consider making an exception.

“When?” Wednesday asked, balancing the hilt of her dagger on one finger.

“Wednesday.”

Wednesday nodded as she counted. “Six days,” she concluded, and she had no idea Enid’s birthday was on the 28^th of June, though Wednesday had never bothered to ask.

Enid hadn’t told her – Wednesday would have remembered if she had, along with every other detail of Enid’s life the little wolf bored her with. It struck Wednesday as odd that she hadn’t, insinuating that perhaps Enid was not keen on celebrating her seventeen years on Earth after all. But Enid must have mentioned it to Thing, who deemed it important enough to share.

“She said her parents don’t celebrate her birthday,” Thing divulged, which was not surprising considering their continued failure as her legal guardians. “I asked her if they ever had, and all she did was sob.”

Wednesday’s fingers tightened around the hilt of her knife. “You made Enid cry?” she replied as she approached Thing, who tripped trying to move away from her.

“Not on purpose,” Thing signed with a newfound speed as if his life depended on it, but the hatred spreading through Wednesday’s veins wasn’t aimed at him.

“Get out of my sight, before you lose a finger,” Wednesday warned, thinking of starting with his ring finger. “This is my private practice time.”

Thing ran off, leaving Wednesday alone with the new information that made her imagine her target was Esther Sinclair, along with that spineless coward of a husband of hers, who was equally guilty for letting Enid down. Wednesday wanted to kill Enid’s parents, but first, Wednesday had to dispose of the only monster worse than Esther and Murray Sinclair.

Wednesday had thought it over and decided that captivity wasn’t enough to keep Enid safe. Tyler Galpin had to die, so he could rot in the ground instead, in an unmarked grave.

“Good morning!” Enid called out just when Wednesday threw her dagger.

Wednesday’s jaw tensed when she missed the dummy entirely, tasting the bitter defeat of being observed failing a skill she had nearly mastered.

Enid chuckled, warm and carefree. “Nice aim,” she teased, standing there smiling.

Wednesday reached for another dagger. “You may want to stand very still,” she warned as she calculated her aim.

The blade zipped past Enid’s head, moving a few strands of her hair as it almost nicked her ear.

“Are you insane!?” Enid shrieked, tucking her hair back behind her ear when a hairclip would be much more efficient in securing it there. “You could have hit me!”

“Question my aim again, and I might,” Wednesday deadpanned, though she would never hurt her friend.

“Okay, that’s it,” Enid nodded while her claws extended. “You may want to run.”

Wednesday remained in place, eyes widening as Enid ran toward her with an enthralling determination. Before Wednesday had the chance to decide what her next move would be, Enid tackled her to the ground, cradling the back of Wednesday’s head in her hand.

Enid’s smile was more blinding than the sun as she looked down at Wednesday. “Any last words?” Enid asked, holding her other hand up in the air, claws drawn.

Kill me before that smile of yours does, little wolf, Wednesday thought as it burned right through her.

“Never underestimate your opponent,” Wednesday answered at last when she retrieved the knife she kept on her person, poking Enid’s side with the hilt.

“Hey,” Enid squirmed, letting out a giggle. “That tickles.”

“Does it now?” Wednesday responded, poking Enid’s other side.

“Oh, I am so gonna get you one of these days.”

***   

Wednesday stood in front of her sink, staring at her bathroom mirror until the sight of Enid combing her hair over and over grew too irritating to ignore. Wednesday shifted her gaze and glanced at Enid’s soft locks, which refused to stay behind her ears, though not for a lack of trying on her part.

Enid wasn’t wearing lingerie tonight, Wednesday noted as she sized up her roommate. Instead, Enid had chosen to wear a black top that stopped a few inches above her black pajama shorts, although Wednesday would argue that it hardly qualified as proper sleeping attire. Perhaps it was a wolf thing, considering how hot Enid was all the time.

“Here,” Wednesday offered as she held out four hairpins for Enid to take and keep.

Enid turned until they faced one another, frowning as she looked down at Wednesday’s palm. “What are these?” Enid asked while her warm fingers picked up the black hairpins one by one, lingering a split second longer with the last one.

“Hairpins, to keep that unruly hair of yours in place.”

“Oh,” Enid whispered, blinking. “Thanks, I guess.”

Wednesday arched a brow when Enid managed to put them in her hair all wrong. Not one of them was straight, and that simply wouldn’t do. Wednesday couldn’t let Enid walk out of her bathroom with her hairpins placed unevenly.

“Come here,” Wednesday demanded with a sigh.

Enid turned again. “Hm?” she hummed, frowning as she put her brush on the black marble sink.

“Come here,” Wednesday repeated to the hard-of-hearing little wolf. “You need a hand.”

Enid blinked, mouth slightly agape for a second before she closed it. “With my hair?” she questioned, as though that wasn’t obvious by now. “You want to give me a hand…with my hair?”

“Yes,” Wednesday confirmed, inwardly recoiling while she reached for Enid’s pink bedazzled hairbrush.

“OMG, you’re serious!” Enid squealed, stepping into Wednesday’s space. “Yoko is not going to believe this,” Enid exclaimed, smiling from ear to ear.

Wednesday glared at the mention of her nemesis. “Breathe a word of this to anyone, and I will have your tongue,” she spat quietly, watching as Enid swallowed like a nice, obedient little wolf.

“So, um…,” Enid trailed off while her eyes flitted around the bathroom. “Should I sit on my knees or the edge of your tub or…?”

While Wednesday wasn’t opposed to the idea of Enid on her knees, such a position would require Wednesday to bend down as well.

“Don’t move,” Wednesday requested as she leaned onto her toes to make herself slightly taller, so they could be at eye level. “Enid,” she bit out. “I said, don’t move.”

“I’m not moving,” Enid huffed, breathing hot air onto Wednesday’s face as she did. Heat aside, the minty scent of Enid’s toothpaste was not unpleasant. “I’m just smiling.”

Wednesday took the hairpins out of Enid’s hair and combed it for her with that heinous brush. Despite her allergy pills, Wednesday’s skin itched at coming into direct contact with the pink color. She was fine for now, though she would have to apply her cream before going to bed to avoid her skin breaking out into hives.

Brushing hair that wasn’t her own was strange and new, and borderline uncomfortable, but Wednesday had brought this upon herself and wasn’t planning on stopping what she started. She noticed Enid purring quietly, which Wednesday had never heard Enid do when combing her own hair. Such a curious little wolf.

Wednesday made two crosses with her hairpins, one on the right and the other on the left, spaced out evenly. It was quite the improvement, and at last, it would cease Enid’s need to run her fingers through her hair.

“It’s different, but I kind of like it,” Enid declared while she turned her head from left to right in front of the mirror. “Too bad you’ll have to do this again tomorrow, though. Because I can’t sleep with pins in my hair. They won’t stay in place anyway,” she explained, which sounded valid for someone incapable of staying still for more than half a minute. “But I’m totally open to making it up to you and combing your hair for you.”

Wednesday threw the pink brush in the hamper with Enid’s laundry, wishing to discard it in the trash instead.

“Wha—hey!” Enid objected, moving to retrieve her hives-inducing object. “Don’t use my hairbrush to prove your perfect aim.”

“The last person who touched my hair lost the ability to touch anything ever again,” Wednesday stated matter-of-factly, remembering the foolish cheerleader who pulled her hair and would never hold another pompom.

“Stay away from the braids,” Enid nodded, rolling her lips into her mouth. “Got it.”

“You need a new brush,” Wednesday announced, willing to pay for one.

Enid rolled her eyes. “You can’t turn everything black, Wednesday.”

“White it is,” Wednesday noted, and she wasn’t kidding.

If Enid wanted her to comb her hair every day, Wednesday needed a brush for Enid that wouldn’t cause her allergy to flare up. Wednesday’s supply of pills and cream wasn’t endless, and she did not want to explain to her mother why she was running out of both as fast as she was. Black, white, and grey were the only acceptable options to continue giving Enid a hand, who could keep the horrific pink one for personal use.

“Don’t make me use my claws,” Enid warned, holding up her hands while her claws appeared.

Wednesday stepped closer and stared at the little wolf’s claws, tempted to touch them.

“Ugh,” Enid groaned, retracting her claws. “Why do you look like…like…,” she bit her lip and shook her head.

“Like?” Wednesday pressed, meeting Enid’s eyes.

“Like you’re turned on.”

Turned on?

Chapter Text

Yesterday was all fun and games, but today, Enid had to be serious because her fight with Wednesday was happening tomorrow, and Enid was seriously underprepared. Fencing just wasn’t her cup of tea, but she didn’t want to let Wednesday down, who enjoyed a decent sparring match. Enid wasn’t expecting to score any points tomorrow, but that didn’t mean she had to give up and hand the win to Wednesday either.

Enid was a wolf, for crying out loud, which ironically was also kind of the problem. Her claws were way too dangerous to use in a friendly fight, and Wednesday had looked scarily interested in them the other day, like she wanted to find out how easily they could prick through her skin and have some weird, violent itch of hers scratched.

“Huh,” Enid whispered when she put on the fencing suit and realized it was a perfect fit. “Wednesday must have remembered my size,” she mumbled to herself as the fabric hugged her snuggly without being too tight.

Enid picked up her sword and headed outside. It was a gorgeous day, the kind that would usually lead her to the beach, where she loved to build sand castles and dip her toes into the water while basking in the sun. Enid missed that, and she missed trying to teach Isla how to surf while getting knocked down by waves together. But Enid wasn’t unhappy spending her summer vacation away from home because being here with Wednesday was the closest thing to a real sleepover she ever had.

Ideally, there would be movie nights involving lots of snacks and maybe a few more people to play games with, but Enid could wait until the winter break for that to happen. Yoko had already invited Enid to spend a week at her place then, along with Divina and Bianca, and Enid wasn’t sure if Wednesday wanted to tag along, but she totally should. Otherwise, Enid wasn’t sure if she was even going because they were pretty much a package deal at this point. Wednesday was her BFF, after all, and Enid really had the feeling that Wednesday was slowly warming up to doing fun things together.

Enid lifted her sword and tried to remember the exact way to place her feet, but she wasn’t used to rough terrains because back at Nevermore, they had mats to break her fall when she had to back up fast. Plus, at school, Enid didn’t partner up with the only girl who could take Bianca’s title as captain of the fencing team. Wednesday was extremely agile, doing all kinds of acrobatic stuff that turned her matches into an edgy dance.

Not that Enid couldn’t do a cartwheel or anything, but she couldn’t do it with a freaking sword in her hand!

Enid took off her mask. “Okay,” she breathed, taking in the fresh air. “Knees bent,” she remembered while she moved her feet. “Find my balance… aim at my opponent. The invisible one, for now.”

“Lead with my front foot and—”

“Enid?”

Enid almost dropped her sword. “Mrs. Addams, hi,” she replied, using her free hand to wave at Wednesday’s mother.  

Mrs. Addams approached, and in that long black dress of hers, it looked like she was gliding across the ground. “What are you doing?” she questioned, looking down at the sword in Enid’s hand.

“Oh, um, I’m practicing for my fight with Wednesday tomorrow.”

“You’re having a duel?” Mrs. Addams frowned. “Why?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Enid answered, and she could mention the dare Wednesday gave her, but it still wouldn’t explain why.

Mrs. Addams’ brows smoothed out while her face relaxed. “Your hair looks different,” she commented as she stared at Enid’s head.

“It’s just a couple of hairpins.”

Mrs. Addams smiled. “I like it,” she said while she touched a lock of Enid’s hair, just for a second.

“Um… thanks, Mrs. Addams,” Enid replied, smiling as well. “And thank you so much for the furraccino with extra steak sauce you made for me this morning again.”

“Don’t mention it, dear,” Mrs. Addams said, and with that, she went back inside.

Enid went back to practicing, which was futile without a partner, so she tried to think about what Wednesday would do and what moves she would make. Enid sure had observed Wednesday enough when she sparred with Bianca to know some of her signature moves, but blocking them would be hard because it wasn’t about strength. Endurance, that Enid had going for her, but trying to outrun Wednesday until she got tired was hardly a good game plan unless the goal was to make Wednesday mad.

Mrs. Addams came back outside, her outfit changed from the elegant dress she had on to black pants, a blouse, and boots. She had a sword in her right hand, which she raised as she got closer.

“Um, Mrs. Addams,” Enid gulped, facing the Addams family matriarch. “I’m really not good at this.”

“You need not fear me, Enid. I’m here to help you.”

Enid exhaled a deep breath, relieved she didn’t have to fight Wednesday’s mother, who used to be the captain of the fencing team at Nevermore when she was a student there, and was an alumni legend whose trophies were displayed at school for all students to see.

***  

When Yoko answered the call right away and the video connected, Enid didn’t expect to see her with a hand up Divina’s shirt. Yoko and Divina were in Yoko’s bed, facing away from the camera, smiling at each other in between kisses. And Enid didn’t mind them expressing their love for one another so freely when they always kept their relationship kind of lowkey at Nevermore to the point where they weren’t even in the same dorm, but Enid didn’t need to see two of her friends – or any people – getting handsy like that.

“Hi, you guys,” Enid said, waving at the camera. “What’s up, Yoko? Aside from your hand up Divina’s shirt.”

“Oh, shit,” Yoko cursed, pulling her hand away. “Enid, hey. Fuck,” she said, running her hand through her hair. “I must have left the auto-accept calls function on.”

“Smooth,” Divina snorted, cheeks reddened, and neck covered in a hickey and what looked like a small bite mark. “What if it was Bianca?”

“She might realize boys are overrated and join us on our side, babe.”

“Just because she kissed a girl once for a dare doesn’t mean she isn’t straight,” Divina replied, smiling while she shook her head. “Trust me, I would have let her go to second base if she wasn’t. Before I swore my undying love to you, of course, shadow of my heart.”

“Bianca kissed a girl!?” Enid blurted out at the same time Wednesday walked into her room.

Oops, that was not subtle, but thankfully, it wasn’t an accidental outing since Bianca wasn’t gay.

Wednesday whispered something that Enid didn’t catch because it was too quiet and she was too distracted by her call with Yoko and Divina to use her wolf hearing. But before Enid had the chance to see if Wednesday wanted to join her and say hello to their friends, Wednesday turned on her heel and left faster than she had entered.

“Would you?” Divina asked, facing the camera. “For a dare?”

“Um…I guess,” Enid answered, because a quick peck wouldn’t mean anything anyway, and girls smelled nice. “But I’m done with dares for a while,” she added resolutely, already sore from this morning, and she had yet to fight Wednesday tomorrow.

“Cute babydoll,” Yoko commented. “White looks great on you.”

“I think it’s sexy,” Divina chimed in.

“Really?” Enid replied, feeling her whole face getting hot – or hotter than usual. “Do you think it’s too intimate? Do you think that’s why it bothered Wednesday so much?”

“Bothered, huh?” Yoko grinned, biting her lip. “Babe,” she sighed, nudging Divina’s side. “Eyes up.”

“Sorry,” Divina said while she averted her gaze. “You know how I feel about girls in lingerie.”

Enid gasped because she had never gotten that kind of attention from a girl before, and it felt strangely thrilling that she could. Divina was drop-dead gorgeous, so it was a major compliment that she had trouble keeping her eyes to herself. Wednesday had sized Enid up more than a few times, too, but not in that way, only in the ‘judging what outfit you’ve chosen’ way.

Wearing her babydoll was not on Enid’s bingo card today, but after spending hours in the sun, training in her fencing suit, she needed something light and airy to relax in.

“What did you guys get up to so far?” Enid asked, propping herself up on her stomach, swinging her legs in the air. “Anything new?”

“We watched Happiest Season last night,” Divina answered.

“I was rooting for Riley,” Yoko shared with a groan. “She’s so hot, I would let her step on me.”

“Is that the movie with that actress from Twilight?” Enid questioned because she thought she saw the cover of the movie they watched once at a video store, but she wasn’t sure if it was her or not.

“How dare you bring up that offensive assault on vampiric culture?” Yoko scoffed. “We do not sparkle in the sun! My skin isn’t made out of diamonds, it’s made out of—”

“Wifey material,” Divina interjected, smiling at Yoko.

Yoko grasped Divina’s chin. “Soon, babe, soon,” Yoko hummed, pressing a chaste kiss to Divina’s lips.

“Jacob is kind of dreamy, though,” Enid exhaled, sorry not sorry that she watched Twilight, despite all of its inaccuracies about vampires and werewolves.

“I thought you had better taste,” Yoko replied with a grimace on her face. “But at least you dumped Ajax, so maybe you do.”

“What’s wrong with Ajax?” Enid frowned. “Is it the Gorgon thing?”

“No, Boo, I don’t care about species mixing,” Yoko replied, which was true considering her girlfriend was a siren, who was sitting right next to her, planning their future wedding, which Enid would love to attend as a bridesmaid. “And he’s not a bad guy,” Yoko added, which was also accurate. “He just isn’t your type.”

Yoko was right about that last bit, too, but Enid had wanted Ajax to be her type. He should have been because he was kind, patient, funny, sweet, and overall such a nice guy. But Enid just wasn’t feeling it with him, and she wasn’t sure if she ever did feel more than friendship because she never craved more when they kissed. And Ajax sensed that too because she never opened her mouth to deepen their kiss. Enid had wanted to, but it felt too gross to even try.

“What do you think my type is?” Enid wondered out loud.

Yoko shrugged and smiled. “I’ll let you figure that one out,” she winked like she knew something Enid didn’t.

“How are things with Wednesday?” Divina asked. “Is she the reason your hair is different?”

Oh, Enid’s friends had no idea that Wednesday was the entire reason that it was, but Enid wasn’t allowed to tell anyone that Wednesday did her hair. Wednesday made it very clear that it was a secret, so no matter how much Enid wished she could tell Yoko and Divina everything about her summer vacation, she couldn’t.

***  

Enid propped her pillow up between her back and the headboard, glancing over at Wednesday on the other side of the line of pillows that separated them. It sucked that there was a border between them, but Enid kind of got it because Wednesday liked having her own half, and it was her room to do with what she wanted. But on the other hand, Enid didn’t bring any color into Wednesday’s bed besides the little bit of pink and blue dye in her hair, so Enid had hoped Wednesday would have stopped putting pillows between them by now.

“Wednesday?”

Wednesday’s eyes moved from the ceiling to the side. “Yes, Enid?”

It was eerie how motionless Wednesday kept her body, lying there with her arms crossed over her chest, like a vampire in a coffin in one of those old movies that got a lot of details wrong about actual vampires. Yoko and the rest of her species didn’t sleep in caskets but in beds, just like everyone else. And she didn’t burn in the sun, though her eyes were very sensitive to sunlight. The need to consume blood was true, but vampires didn’t go around biting people and draining them of their blood. They had their own shops where they could buy bags of blood, kind of like getting groceries, where the rarer blood types were more expensive.

“Do you want to play a game before we go to sleep?” Enid asked, far from tired because it wasn’t even ten yet, and she couldn’t spend hours lying silently in the dark, staring at the ceiling.

“Okay,” Wednesday replied, moving her back in a straight line as she sat up. She turned on the lamp on her bedside table, illuminating the room with a warm yellow glow. “Which one do you have in mind?”

Enid hadn’t expected Wednesday to agree right off the bat, but it was great that she did. Maybe this was a good sign that Wednesday wanted to do fun things together and even enjoyed it, or maybe Wednesday was just being generous because of their upcoming fight. Whatever the reason was, Enid was happy that Wednesday said yes, unless she was about to suggest using her Ouija board. Enid did not like the idea of disturbing spirits one bit, particularly the angry ones.

End grabbed her phone from the bedside table. “I have this game on my phone that we could play,” she shared, and she got it from Yoko, who played it with Divina and said it was a good bonding activity.

“What type of game?”

It was called the empathy game, but Enid couldn’t tell Wednesday that, or she might change her mind and get all grumpy about Enid suggesting it in the first place. But it was such a good game to get to know people beyond stuff like favorite colors and food, and what kind of things they liked doing in their spare time. And there was still so much Enid didn’t know about Wednesday because she didn’t talk much unless she was putting together clues to solve a crime.

“It’s a question game,” Enid explained, which technically wasn’t a lie because it was all about answering questions. “There are three categories – imagine, memory, and who is – and we each take turns picking one, and then it’ll give us a random question to answer.”

“Very well,” Wednesday said while her expressions remained impassive, but her agreement to play was about as enthusiastic as Enid knew Wednesday would get. “I choose memory.”

Enid had expected her roomie to pick that one, finger already hovering over the memory option. “When did you wish you had a second chance?” she read the question on the card that popped up on her screen.

“During our last night at Nevermore,” Wednesday answered quite fast, not even taking a minute to think, implying that she had thought about this before.

Enid had thought about that night a lot as well, going over every detail. The way things went down wasn’t perfect, but she wouldn’t change anything because she got there in time to save Wednesday, and both of them survived. And afterward, they had that hug that changed the course of their friendship forever. The scars weren’t Enid’s favorite, but she would gladly endure more of them for Wednesday.

“I left you alone in the woods,” Wednesday recalled, but it was fine because she had a good, completely valid reason for that. “If I could go back to that night, I would not run off. I would stay by your side until the end.”

Enid wanted to squeeze Wednesday’s hand and tell her it was okay, but Enid knew she couldn’t touch Wednesday whenever she wanted to. “You’re my ride or die, too,” Enid reminded Wednesday, who had nothing to regret because she was in no position to fight a Hyde.

Wednesday crossed her legs, facing the line between them. “Like Thelma and Louise?”

Enid mirrored Wednesday, getting comfortable on the other side of the pillows. “Exactly!” Enid confirmed, smiling at the great example of two besties who were as thick as thieves, and the fact that Wednesday agreed that they were like them. 

“Okay, I choose imagine,” Enid shared while she clicked the randomizer to pick a card. “If you could switch lives with someone for one day, who would it be?” she read, shuddering at the thought of going all Freaky Friday with someone.

Swapping bodies wasn’t something Enid was interested in doing, at all, because she very much preferred to look like herself and stay true to her colors, but if it was only for one day, it might be fun to walk around in someone else’s shoes and experience firsthand how others treated them. Switching lives with somebody with a loving mother, for example, would be very nice to have for once in her life, and definitely something that Enid would give up her body for, for twenty-four hours.

“I’d probably choose you,” Enid decided with a nod and a smile. “It would be nice to play the cello like you can, and to see you in a color that isn’t black or white. But if I’m super honest, I’d do it to be an Addams for a day.”

“You want to be an Addams?” Wednesday replied, and when she stared, Enid noticed a twinkle in Wednesday’s dark eyes, like she was smiling without moving her lips. “Why?”

Enid could say follow-up questions weren’t part of the game, but it was fair of Wednesday to wonder why Enid went with her when she could have picked literally anyone in the world.

“Your family is so nice, and your mom loves you so much, I feel like she would hug me if I was you, because she would think that I am you. And I don’t think I could fool your family into thinking that, but if I don’t speak and try really hard not to blink, she might think I’m you long enough to hug me just once.”

“You want my mother to hug you?” Wednesday asked, and the light in her eyes was long gone by now, replaced by a scowl. “Why?”

“Because mine never does, Wednesday!” Enid blurted out, ripping off the band-aid of a very old wound that had never stopped bleeding. “My mom doesn’t love me, and yours loves you so much that she’d move heaven and Earth for you. I bet your mother would hug you every day if you let her. Meanwhile, mine won’t even hug me on my birth…,” Enid broke off when her voice cracked.

“Enid,” Wednesday swallowed, “you can hug me if—”

Enid threw herself over the pillows and flung her arms around Wednesday’s shoulders before she could finish that sentence, burying her nose in Wednesday’s neck while she all but crawled onto Wednesday’s lap.

“Thank you,” Enid sniffled because she really needed that, so freaking much.

“Enid.”

“Mhmm?”

“I hate it when you cry,” Wednesday said while she wound her arms around Enid’s waist with a tightness that would have been too much if she hadn’t been a wolf. “It’s…unbearable,” Wednesday exhaled, and Enid knew emotions made Wednesday uncomfortable, but she couldn’t help herself.

“I would like to go to San Francisco,” Wednesday announced with a sharp edge in her voice.

“No,” Enid chuckled through her tears. “You can’t kill my mother, Wednesday.”

“Permission to paralyze?”

Enid knew her mother wasn’t perfect, but she was still her mother, and Enid didn’t want her to get hurt. It was sweet how Wednesday wanted to play knight in shining armor, and also kind of cute, but Enid didn’t need Wednesday to go around slaying dragons for her.

After hugging for a while, Enid let go and went back to her half, feeling a lot better now.

“Your turn,” Enid said as she grabbed her phone. “Which category do you pick?”

“I shall go with who is.”

Enid nodded, clicking on the category. “Okay…what do you enjoy most about getting older?” she read, and if Enid had gotten that one, she would have said that getting older meant getting closer to being free.

Then again, as a werewolf, Enid could never be free from her family’s pressure. She couldn’t live her life the way she wanted to because, as a wolf, she had strict expectations to reach, regardless of her feelings. But maybe she could still be free in some ways, like making her own traditions, where each birthday involved steak and not just for boys and men, but for girls and women, too. 

“Being closer to death’s embrace,” Wednesday answered, which was extremely morbid, and Enid didn’t want Wednesday to die. Not until both of them were old and gray, with a life full of adventures behind them.

“If you die prematurely, I’ll find a way to the spirit realm so I can kick your ass,” Enid huffed.

The corners of Wednesday’s mouth curved up. “Promise?”

“Yes, I promise. And don’t you dare die on purpose or else…,” Enid trailed off, and she could show her claws, but that would have the opposite effect of what she wanted.

Enid went back to her phone, pressing imagine. “Which imaginary creature would you have as a pet?” she read, smiling at the fun question. “Why, a unicorn, of course! They’re my favorite imaginary creature.”

“I choose who is,” Wednesday said when Enid looked at her expectantly, and maybe Wednesday was hoping for another question she could give a dark answer to.

Enid looked at the card that popped up and smiled. “What can’t you live without?” she asked, curious to hear what mattered most to Wednesday.

Wednesday pursed her lips for a moment. “My pets, my family, and you,” she answered while their eyes met.

Aha! Enid knew Wednesday loved Erebus and Nyx and cared about her family. And – wait.

“Me?” Enid checked, blinking.

“You.”

“Good,” Enid smiled, nodding. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

Enid would have chosen Wednesday too if she had drawn that card, along with the rest of her friends, who meant the world to Enid, too. But there was just something about Wednesday that was special, like it was destiny for them to be friends. Enid didn’t know if her friendships would last throughout her life, but she was never letting go of Wednesday because they were basically soul-friends, and Enid would hate it if they drifted apart.

“What did you want to be when you were a kid?” Enid read her next question while she thought about her answer. “Hmm, the first thing I wanted to be was a dancer because I used to dance all the time when I was about seven or eight, but then I wanted to be a lifeguard because I’m the weird wolf who likes being in the water, and I’m a decent swimmer. But what I really wanted to be, more than anything, was a teacher, so I could teach and help the next generation of werewolves.”

“Why did you stop?”

“Dancing?” Enid replied, watching as Wednesday nodded. “I don’t know,” Enid shrugged, though it was a good question. “I guess I just wasn’t happy anymore, and I stopped to learn more serious things, like how to cook and how to iron denim trousers.”

Wednesday’s brows furrowed. “You don’t wear denim.”

“I don’t,” Enid confirmed while the memory of why she quit dancing started coming back to her. “But my mom wanted me to learn that stuff for my future husband,” she explained, remembering how her mother had told her that dancing was silly and a waste of time.

Wednesday’s eye twitched. “She wants you to be a housewife,” she stated, which was kind of it, yeah. “My mother forced lessons on me, too. To be like her and father, even though I explicitly told her I shall never follow in their footsteps.”

Enid had no idea that Wednesday dealt with similar pressure as she had, and Enid didn’t think Wednesday’s parents were like that because they seemed so easy-going. But Enid had only known Wednesday’s mom and dad for a week, and Enid knew lots of teenagers struggled with their parents’ expectations, so it wasn’t that strange that Wednesday was in the same boat. 

“I choose imagine,” Wednesday announced suddenly. “And this shall be the last question I answer tonight,” she added, which was fair because it was getting close to midnight.

“What would you do with a ‘get out of jail free’ card?” Enid asked the question on the card that popped up.

Wednesday’s eyes narrowed. “Kill all Hydes,” she answered, breathing harshly through her nose.

Enid blinked at what sounded like a mission Wednesday wanted to sink her teeth into, whether it would land her in prison or not. But it would be a really bad idea to go around the globe to hunt down Hydes, and maybe there were Hydes out there that weren’t evil, with good masters who didn’t send them on killing sprees and helped them control their rage when they transformed.

Plus, Hydes were rare, and after having lost the last of the Yetis, Cyclopses, and Minotaurs several decades ago, and with Avians and Vanishers close to being the next to go extinct, wiping out another species of outcasts didn’t sound like the best way to deal with one bad apple. A very bad, very rotten, very toxic apple, who did deserve to die for the horrible things he did, but that didn’t mean all Hydes deserved the same fate.

Enid picked a category without looking for her final turn, kind of stuck on the erasing a species thing.

“What objects would you save from your burning house?” Enid read out loud, which was an easy one to answer. “If there was a fire, I would save my clothes and the box under my bed because it has all of the drawings Isla made for me and lots of silly pictures we took last summer, and this adorable clay mug she gave me for my birthday that she painted all by herself.”

“The two of you must be close.”

“Oh, a thousand percent,” Enid confirmed, smiling as she thought about the memories she had captured with her camera as well as her heart. “Isla is my favorite kid in the whole world.”

“She looks like you.”

“I know,” Enid nodded, aware of the similarities in their physical appearance and the fact that Isla dyed her hair the same way she did. “But don’t let that fool you. She has your fearlessness and your fighting spirit.”

Wednesday arched a brow. “I doubt that.”

“She clawed out a boy’s eye, Wednesday,” Enid shared, which should be proof enough to make her point. “Like…if you and I had a kid together, it would be Isla.”

“I abhor the idea of having a furbaby.”

Enid rolled her eyes. “Wolf hater,” she teased, knowing Wednesday didn’t mean it like that.

“I don’t hate you, little wolf,” Wednesday replied softly. “Quite the contrary.”

“You know, the opposite of hate is—”

“Night, Enid.”

“Good night, roomie.”

Chapter Text

Wednesday covered her mother’s black calla lilies with a plastic sheet to avoid getting blood on them after what happened last summer, when she stabbed one of her cousins for thinking the height difference between them made her a weak opponent. He bled like a pig, and squealed like one too when she spilled his guts all over her mother’s flowers.

It was on purpose, of course, and while Wednesday did not concern herself with the survival of her mother’s precious lilies, Wednesday did owe her mother for cleansing their home of all its silver, including the pieces she somehow failed to add to the purge herself. Wednesday tugged at the corners of the plastic to straighten it out when she had the feeling she was no longer alone in the garden.

Soft footsteps approached Wednesday from behind, with every step slower and fainter than the last, until they ceased altogether. It wasn’t her mother to complain about the plastic suffocating her lilies, considering her footsteps were lighter and had a consistent pace. It wasn’t her father either, whose footsteps were like a stampede, or her brother, who no longer snuck up on Wednesday since she cracked one of his ribs.

“Hello, Enid,” Wednesday acknowledged her friend, who had approximately nineteen minutes left to get ready for their duel, give or take a few seconds.

“Hi,” Enid spoke barely above a whisper. “I, uh…,” she cleared her throat. “I’m guessing our fight is still on, hmm?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Wednesday responded as she turned around, noticing a lack of color in Enid’s cheeks, which were perfectly rosy earlier this morning. “I dared you to,” Wednesday reminded Enid, whose blood she wasn’t out to spill.

The plastic sheet was merely a precaution to take Enid’s speed and strength into account in case Wednesday failed to dodge in time when Enid struck. Wednesday had taken to fencing when Enid was still a little runt, but Wednesday was no wolf, and with the proper training, Enid could be a formidable opponent. Furthermore, the swords that Wednesday used at home weren’t as blunt as the ones at school. They were sharpened rigorously, ready for battle at any time. And rainy nights, where the chance of being struck by lightning amidst a fight was too exhilarating to pass up.

Pugsley got hit during one such night a few months ago, but instead of going into cardiac arrest, his abilities grew stronger. The pathetic spark he spent years using to create a zap outmatched by a stun gun now revived rats in the dungeon. Soon, he would no longer need Wednesday to fight his bullies for him. But she would still seek vengeance on anyone who dared to torment her little brother.

“You dared me to, therefore I must?” Enid chuckled, wringing her hands together while she stared at the ground. “Yeah, I’m aware of that,” she sighed heavily, lifting her head as she looked around. “But you didn’t even let me choose between truth or dare.”

Enid’s complaint was irrelevant because she inevitably would have chosen dare at a certain turn, whether it was on the first or the last. Thus, it would have always led to this outcome. But if Enid wasn’t up for the challenge, perhaps Wednesday could accommodate her.

“If you feel our fight is unfair, I won’t use my dominant hand,” Wednesday offered, although it wouldn’t make much of a difference considering she was capable of fighting with both. It might, however, create the illusion that it did.

“No, that’s not…,” Enid shook her head. “You shouldn’t fight with your left hand, Wednesday,” she exhaled, biting her bottom lip as their eyes met.

Wednesday pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth, irritated by the implication that she was inept to fight with her other hand due to her injured shoulder. Granted, it would interfere with the healing process, but Wednesday wasn’t against pulling a few stitches. A superficial wound was nowhere near enough to bring her down and bench her.

“Go change,” Wednesday told Enid, who would be wise to put on her fencing suit rather than fight in that soft pink dress with the little bows attached to the straps. This was not the time for Enid to model her good looks and match her outfit to her scars, which, unfortunately, had grown pinker as they healed.

“You have twenty minutes,” Wednesday announced, adding five more than Enid originally had left.

Enid crossed her arms. “It will take as long as it takes,” she responded with a huff. “I’m not going to ruin this dress by rushing to take it off for you, so deal with it or find someone else to dare.”

Wednesday watched as Enid spun around and marched back into the house. If Enid brought that same fire to their fight, Wednesday wouldn’t mind waiting, even if she had to stay outside until nightfall, or postpone their duel to a later date.

Half an hour later, Enid returned with the proper fencing attire.

“So, uh…what are the boundaries?” Enid asked while she glanced around, shifting her weight from her left foot to her right. “Do we fight from here to that tree over there, or…?” she guessed as she gestured from the covered flowers to the tree near Wednesday’s bedroom window.

Staying on the grass would be softer in case of a scrape, but this wasn’t Nevermore, and enemies didn’t care about their opponent’s comfort. The world was a cruel place, and while Wednesday had little to no kindness to offer, Enid was not her foe but her friend.

“The only rule is no retreating indoors or outside the gate,” Wednesday answered, though it would be impressive if Enid could make it to the other side before Wednesday caught up with her.

“Driveway and garden,” Enid nodded as she adjusted her grip on her sword. “Got it.”

“First to strike thrice wins,” Wednesday decided, to give Enid the opportunity to hit her at least once.

One strike was to be expected from a newly transformed wolf who had tapped into increased strength and speed. Two would be impressive and a sign of immense growth, and Wednesday would be proud if Enid broke through her defenses twice. Three, however, was impossible for an opponent who wasn’t determined to master fencing.

If Enid won, then Wednesday had grown rusty. In which case, she needed to devote an hour daily to practice, though Wednesday might do so regardless, alongside training with a variety of weapons. Her return to Nevermore was only nine weeks away, and Wednesday had to concentrate on her mission to take Tyler out once and for all. She had yet to put the pieces into motion, but her Uncle Fester was on board with breaking into Willow Hill to handle Tyler before he escaped and went after the people closest to Wednesday.

Perhaps she should push Enid away for her protection, but Wednesday doubted that staying away from Enid would keep her safe, and Wednesday preferred Enid by her side, where she could shield her as soon as a threat appeared. So no, distance was not acceptable. Wherever Enid went, Wednesday would follow.

“Ready?” Enid asked, smiling as she put her right foot forward and bent her knees, raising her sword up to the back of her head. It was an unusual position to take on at the beginning of a duel, one Wednesday only saw one person close to her use before. “En garde!” Enid exclaimed, crouching a little bit lower.

Wednesday blocked Enid’s sword as it swung over her head, clashing mid-air. When Enid moved, Wednesday moved with her. They danced across the grass to the symphony of metal colliding with metal. Enid’s thrusts weren’t as lousy as they used to be, and her parries deflecting Wednesday’s attacks had improved as well.

Enid grunted with every strike she tried to land and gasped with every move from Wednesday she blocked. The constant noise was somewhat distracting, but it did give Enid away when she was about to swing.

“Stop moaning,” Wednesday said as her sword struck Enid’s. “You sound like a wolf in heat,” Wednesday added, although she had never heard a werewolf in that particular distressed state before.

Enid lowered her sword, piercing a patch of grass between them. “I’m not in heat!” she exclaimed, raising her weapon. “Oh my God, Wednesday.”

“Then why are you still moaning?” Wednesday pushed, adjusting her stance to move forward.

“I’m going to get you.”

“I’m right here,” Wednesday responded, gesturing at herself with her left hand. “Come and get me.”

Enid took a step back, and another, going further as Wednesday advanced. Putting distance between the two of them and her mother’s flowers wasn’t the worst idea, but any attempt to flee was futile. During the muted shuffling of feet across the garden, Wednesday noticed a shadow lingering nearby.

Wednesday should have known their fight wouldn’t go unnoticed, though she had no bone to pick with Enid. This wasn’t the kind of duel where the winner gained something valuable, like respect. If Enid won, however, Wednesday would reward her for her achievement.

Enid dodged behind the tree as it blocked Wednesday’s sword aiming for Enid’s chest. She lifted her left arm, wrapped it around the tree, and dug crescent moons into the wood with her claws. Wednesday watched as Enid’s natural weapon went deeper. But in doing so, Wednesday took her eyes off Enid’s other hand. It was a mistake that Wednesday regretted when the tip of Enid’s sword poked her side.

“One down,” Enid announced, smiling at her subterfuge. “Two more to go.”

“You’ll only be counting to three when keeping track of my points.”

Enid’s claws retracted. “Can you at least admit you were distracted?”

Wednesday pursed her lips, and right or not, she didn’t need to confirm what Enid already knew.

“I think you nicked me,” Wednesday said, using her free hand to touch her side.

“Oh no,” Enid gasped, stepping out from behind the tree. “Are you okay?” she asked, wide-eyed, while she stared at Wednesday’s hand.

Wednesday turned her sword and smacked Enid with the flat side. “Who’s distracted now?” Wednesday countered, though it appeared Enid had nicked Wednesday’s side.

It was only a scratch, though. The tip of the sword couldn’t have gone further than half an inch deep when it pierced Wednesday’s suit. But if Enid’s nose didn’t give her away, there was no need for Wednesday to cause concern where none was necessary.

“That is so unfair,” Enid responded, back to moaning. “I thought you were actually hurt.”

Wednesday advanced, intent on scoring her second point to break the tie. 

“Hold up,” Enid said when Wednesday tossed her sword from one hand to the other. “Are you, like, ambidextrous or something?”

“I am,” Wednesday confirmed, feeling her stitches stretch against her shoulder. “Though I favor my right,” she admitted, but it was better to keep an opponent on their toes. “As do you,” she pointed out, aiming for Enid’s left side.

The tip of Wednesday’s sword pricked the left side of Enid’s suit, deep enough to score without adding injury.

“You leave your left side open too much,” Wednesday commented, in case Enid wasn’t aware of her rookie mistake.

Enid rolled her eyes. “You sound like your mother,” she muttered, a little too loud for Wednesday to miss, given their proximity to one another.

Wednesday moved faster, going forward until Enid’s back knocked against the tree with a thud and a grunt.

“Three,” Wednesday counted as she pressed the blunt side of her sword to Enid’s throat.

“Um, Wednesday,” Enid gulped against the metal. “Could you…?” she asked, pointing at Wednesday’s sword.

Wednesday tossed her sword aside. “I may have won,” she said as she took a step back to create space between them. “But your subterfuge was clever,” she admitted to give credit where it was due. “You should always seek to exploit your opponent’s weakness.”

Enid leaned against the tree and smiled. “My claws make you weak, hm?”

Damn that little wolf.

One of these days, Wednesday was going to shut that pretty mouth of hers.

***   

Wednesday entered the kitchen, leaning on her toes as she reached for the cupboard. She opened the door and sighed, seeing her mug pushed two inches farther than the spot she kept it in, circled with a black marker. Either her mother cleaned and forgot to put it back, or Thing was cross with her again and sought ways to inconvenience her rather than confront Wednesday directly.

If it was indeed the latter, Wednesday had no idea what she did to upset him. She did take away Thing’s silver trinkets, but he liked Enid more than Wednesday did, so she doubted he held that against her.

“Amateurs,” Wednesday muttered as she flattened her palms on the countertop. She pushed herself up, using her right knee as leverage to climb on.

Wednesday considered dusting her mug for fingerprints, but she needed a quad over ice before she murdered someone. Probably Pugsley, whose body she could give to Uncle Fester, seeing Wednesday owed him one for that deer that was no longer there when they returned from the woods. Although it would be unfortunate to no longer have a sibling to torment.

Wednesday grabbed her black cauldron mug – a gift from her grandmama for being a seer – and climbed down from the countertop. She was in the middle of making her coffee when she sensed someone behind her.

“Hello, Mother,” Wednesday said without turning around. “If you’re done spying on me, I would appreciate fifteen minutes of solitude.”

“You held back during your duel,” her mother commented, as usual criticizing what Wednesday did.

“It is not my intention to wound her,” Wednesday responded, though she didn’t expect her mother to comprehend the complex nature of her relationship with Enid, which Wednesday barely understood herself. “I want Enid to defend herself when there is no full moon to empower her,” Wednesday clarified, revealing her sole purpose of challenging Enid.

“She is stronger than you give her credit for, darling.”

Wednesday left her mug sitting on the counter as she faced her mother. “I never said she is weak,” Wednesday bit out. “Enid is magnificent, and if I can unlock her true potential, nobody can mortally wound her.”

“It warms my cold heart seeing you with her,” her mother expressed with a smile, and Wednesday wanted to tell her mother not to get used to it, but that would be a lie. “The friendship between you two is exceptional.”

Wednesday would call it unconventional, though she would rather not dwell on the specifics of her entanglement with her roommate.

“You helped Enid with her training,” Wednesday mentioned, certain after watching Enid incorporate moves they didn’t teach at Nevermore.

Her mother nodded nearly imperceptibly. “I caught her practicing yesterday.”

Wednesday gave Enid a week, and she waited until the last day to train. It befuddled Wednesday how she had befriended someone so chaotically disorganized when they could have been enemies, but a world where she hated Enid didn’t exist. Wednesday did dislike Enid at first, but like a cockroach, her peppy roommate kept seeking her out until Wednesday grew used to having her around.

And now, Wednesday would hijack her father’s car and cross the border with Enid to keep her out of Tyler’s and Esther’s claws. Wednesday might do so regardless because she had the feeling that Enid belonged with her, to remain her friend as others inevitably grew distant. They could run away together, like Thelma and Louise did, according to the information Wednesday tracked down on Enid’s phone while Enid slept.

“I have missed seeing that beautiful smile of yours, my little raven,” her mother commented suddenly, alerting Wednesday that her facial expressions had slipped in the presence of her mother.

“Stop,” Wednesday spoke up, done biting her tongue. “Stop reminding me I’m not a dove.”

Her mother frowned while she tilted her head. “Is that what you think I’ve been doing?” she responded, as if denying it would make it less true. “Wednesday, I’m sorry.”

Wednesday could share her thoughts on the matter, but she would rather pull out her teeth one by one with a pair of pliers than talk about feelings with her mother. She had exposed enough, divulging her hatred of that nickname, along with the reason why.

“You are the apple of my eye,” her mother claimed with watery eyes and a smile. “And as much as the thought of you going mad the way Ophelia did and losing you like I lost her terrifies me, I’m proud to be your mother.”

“Proud?” Wednesday sneered at the flagrant dishonesty. “Do not feign pride when you have ceaselessly pushed me to be like you.”

When Wednesday had to endure lessons learning a number of ballroom dances, she spent hours in bloodied shoes, repeating each routine over and over until her mother was satisfied with the result. And when Wednesday’s etiquette coach ran for the hills, her mother took it upon herself to teach her, criticizing her along the way for the tiniest imperfections.

“It’s not a deception,” her mother insisted. “You are my darling girl. My dear little raven.”

Wednesday stiffened when her mother’s fingertips brushed her cheek. This was not what Wednesday wanted, and she made that clear as she pulled away. For years, her mother had respected Wednesday’s number one boundary, and now that was damaged, too.

“Why must you fight me so?” her mother asked, and if she thought they would hug it out, then she was the one who had gone mad.

Speaking of people driven to insanity, Wednesday thought as her mother’s words lingered like the Patchouli in her perfume.

“Mother,” Wednesday pressed, straightening her spine to the point of discomfort. “Who is Ophelia?”

“Forget I said her name,” her mother answered with a wave of her hand. “You don’t need to concern yourself with her, Wednesday. You have Goody.”

Wednesday pursed her lips at the news of another psychic raven in their bloodline. One her mother knew but never breathed a word about before, when her mother knew she would present as a raven years prior to her powers beginning to manifest. Therefore, the existence of another psychic raven ancestor when Wednesday thought she had none left was a matter that concerned her entirely and should not have been kept a secret.

Where was her mother’s pride in her being a raven if she wanted Wednesday to be alone?

“Goody is gone,” Wednesday announced, sharing a significant detail of what went down during her last night at Nevermore.

Her mother’s complexion paled further than usual, perhaps realizing that Wednesday needed that ancestor. She could inform her mother as to what Goody did that caused her to disappear, but Wednesday was certain her mother could figure that one out on her own.

“Whatever you do, don’t listen to Ophelia,” her mother cautioned while she shook her head. “She’s not well.”

“Nobody in our family is, Mother.”

“Not like Ophelia,” her mother claimed, as persistent as a dog with a bone. “She was consumed by her powers, and I tried to help her, but your grandmama sent her to an asylum,” she explained while she grabbed a glass from the cupboard. “I won’t let what happened to my sister happen to my daughter.”

Sister.

Wednesday had an aunt – a raven, like her – who could step up and be her new spirit guide. Something her mother quite vocally opposed, but what else was new?

“Let me help you,” her mother insisted while she poured herself a glass of wine.

“You told me a living psychic cannot train other psychics, only the ghost of an ancestor can,” Wednesday reminded her mother, whose ability was useless to her, regardless of whether she was dead or alive.

Her mother set her glass down in such a swift motion, it shattered upon impact. “I forbid you from speaking with Ophelia, and that is final,” she commanded, pointing a bleeding finger at Wednesday.

Wednesday grasped her coffee and paused on her way out, back turned toward her mother.

Wednesday wanted to tell her mother how, ever since it was known that she was destined to be a raven, she believed she would never be good enough for her, and how it turned out that she had believed so in vain. For there was only one failure in this family, and for the first time, Wednesday was certain that person wasn’t her. But she couldn’t get those words past her lips, too aware of how deep they might cut.

“It’s not up to you or me to decide who comes forward to guide me,” Wednesday pointed out instead.

Enid told Wednesday that she was loved by her mother, and despite her vehement inclination to disagree, Wednesday questioned whether Enid had voiced a fearful truth.

“You can either accept who I am, or let me go for not being who you wanted me to be. The choice is yours, Mother,” Wednesday decided, reconsidering her idea to go her own way.

“And if you touch me like that again,” Wednesday added in an afterthought, “it will be the last time I set foot in the same room as you.”

***   

Enid was propped up on Wednesday’s bed, leaning on her elbows as her stomach rested on top of the mattress. Wednesday stood in front of her dresser, glancing at Enid swinging her legs back and forth, clad in that white babydoll again. Enid smiled as she listened to a pop song on her phone that made Wednesday’s ears bleed from the sheer volume alone, trumping the voice in her head as she tried to sort her thoughts.

Wednesday opened her mouth to tell Enid to go somewhere else before she flung her phone out of the window, but then Enid started lip-syncing, and seeing her have fun reminded Wednesday of Enid’s upcoming birthday. Not that Wednesday had forgotten – on the contrary, Enid was on her mind every waking hour.

Perhaps, a few more minutes of enduring what Enid called music wasn’t entirely unbearable.

Enid rubbed her right shoulder and leaned more on her left elbow, looking up from her phone at Wednesday, who caught Enid’s gaze. “Why does it feel right every time I let you in?” Enid mouthed along, moving her head from one side to the other. “Why does it feel like I can tell you anything?”

The lyrics, while filled with an emotional struggle that made Wednesday want to projectile vomit, were a slight upgrade compared to the nonsense Enid usually listened to.

“We could be free,” Enid lip-synced, touching her left hand to her right shoulder again, kneading her skin. “Freeee,” She hummed, reducing the volume on her phone.

Wednesday turned her gaze toward her open drawer to select her clothes for tomorrow, so she could place them on top of her dresser. It was more efficient to prepare rather than Enid’s unhinged method of tossing her clothes into a pile until she found what she wanted to wear. 

“I really like this song,” Enid shared as if her inability to remain still wasn’t an indication of that, although she hardly ever stopped moving. “It’s one of the songs from this movie that came out this week, called K-pop Demon Hunters.”

Wednesday grabbed her oversized black hoodie and placed it atop her dresser while she glanced at Enid, whose smile put the brightness of the sun to shame. Scientifically speaking, it was impossible for a smile to blind someone, but if anyone could succeed at doing so, it would be Enid.

“There are clips all over social media,” Enid continued, reaching for her right shoulder with a slight grimace this time. “And the visuals are so stunning. No wonder it took more than seven years to make.”

Seven years, and the best they could come up with was a song full of rhymes? As far as visuals went, Wednesday preferred films sans color, such as Psycho.

Enid moved her hand to her neck, rolling her head as she massaged herself.

Wednesday went to her bathroom and filled up the tub with soapy hot water. She grabbed a couple of towels, placed one on the floor, and put the others on the hooks on the wall behind the bathtub. Wednesday thought about lighting a few candles to use instead of the light, but she didn’t want them to get knocked over.

The room was silent when Wednesday returned. Enid was still on her bed, but sitting up rather than lying down. Enid yawned and stretched out her arms before rubbing her neck and her shoulder again. Wednesday wondered if Enid’s back was sore from their fight as well.

“Enid,” Wednesday called out as she stood a few steps away from her bathroom door.

Enid rubbed her eyes. “Mhmm?” she hummed, peering up at Wednesday.

“I drew you a bath, should you wish to relax.”

Enid scrambled up and stumbled. Wednesday instinctively reached out, but Enid was too far away and managed to catch herself before colliding with the floor. 

What a clumsy idiot, Wednesday thought while she lowered her arms.

Enid approached, smiling that bright smile of hers. “Thanks, Wednesday!” she exclaimed, close to Wednesday’s ear.

Wednesday was about to tell Enid to tamp down the exuberance when Enid leaned forward and pressed her lips against her cheek. Enid’s mouth was soft and smooth, like Wednesday’s silk sheets, which were of the highest quality on the market. And somehow, Enid’s lips were even warmer than her ridiculously hot hands, spreading their heat like wildfire.

In the split second it took for Wednesday’s brain to process the unpermitted touch she failed to predict before it happened, Enid stepped back. Her blue eyes widened, mouth agape while her hands shot up to cover her mouth. Wednesday, on the other hand, kept hers firmly closed as her mind relayed Enid’s brazen action.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” Enid gasped, moving another step further away. “I didn’t mean to do that,” she claimed with a grimace on her face. “I’m just tired and you’re my bestie, so I wasn’t thinking.”

Wednesday clasped her hands behind her back, straightening her spine as she did.

“Please don’t kick me out,” Enid pleaded while she wrung her hands together. “I’m really sorry. I swear I didn’t mean to do that to you. And I’ll understand if you want to kick me out, but—”

“Stop talking,” Wednesday interjected, and her voice lacked bite, but one verbal fight was exhausting enough for one day. “Go bathe before the water turns cold,” she insisted for both of their sakes.

Enid sucked her lips into her mouth and nodded, doing as she was told.

Wednesday touched her cheek, but the warm sensation Enid’s lips left behind wasn’t detectable on the surface. It was new, and Wednesday wondered if it was a wolf thing she wasn’t aware of, until now. Nonetheless, the gesture was unacceptable, and if it weren’t a mistake on her enthusiastically touchy roommate’s part, Wednesday would not have shown mercy.

“Enid,” Wednesday grumbled when the sensation not only lingered but spread through her veins, like a toxin. She knocked on her bathroom door and entered without awaiting a response, keeping her gaze away from the tub to respect Enid’s boundary regarding her undressed state.

Water sloshed around and spilled near Wednesday’s feet, followed by a familiar gasp.

“What have you done?” Wednesday hissed, pointing at the cheek Enid’s lips had touched.

“I’m sorry about the pink lipstick mark. It should wash right off with a bit of water, though.”

Enid’s lipstick, of course. That was what Wednesday’s body reacted to.

Chapter Text

♫ Here with you, I can finally breathe. You say you’re no good, but you’re good for me. ♫

Enid sang the lyrics to Free over and over in her head, partially because she loved the song, but also to distract herself while she processed stuff.

Yesterday was a lot, like seeing the Mount Everest a lot. Enid was so worried that Wednesday was angry with her about the whole kiss on her cheek incident. Total brain fog, by the way, and a hundred percent accidental. Though at the same time, it kind of wasn’t a mistake. It was just an old yet newish habit because Enid had kissed Yoko on the cheek before, too, like good friends did. But she knew Wednesday was iffy about being touched, like ninety-nine percent of the time, tolerating it in very small and limited doses.

It was tough for Enid to sleep, not knowing if she had hurt their friendship, and such a relief when Wednesday brushed her hair for her and put in the pins, just like Wednesday did the morning before, and the one before that. Enid wanted to talk about it, but couldn’t think of any explanation that would be remotely helpful in Wednesday’s book. It was probably better to let it go and act like it never happened, because it shouldn’t have. And it wouldn’t have if Enid were awake and alert enough to think for a second first.

Enid would like it very much if they could have the kind of friendship that involved kisses on the cheek, though. Wednesday’s skin was so nice to touch, blending so well with Enid’s heat as a werewolf. She imagined Wednesday’s lips were even better, though Enid might never know for sure unless Wednesday kissed her on the cheek at some point, too.

A girl could dream, right? Because once upon a time, a hug seemed just as unlikely to happen. Enid could be patient, the patientest even, which wasn’t a real world, but it should be. And if Wednesday never warmed up to cheek kisses, then that was okay too because Enid didn’t need Wednesday to touch her to know that they were besties.

“We are going out today,” Wednesday announced suddenly as they stood in her bathroom, getting into their morning routine where they shared the space until they were about to undress, although sometimes they just turned their backs to one another for that. “Choose your clothes accordingly,” Wednesday added while her eyes traveled down Enid’s pajama, as if she would ever go outside wearing lingerie.

“We as in us?” Enid asked, gesturing between the two of them with her left hand while she held her white toothbrush in her right. It was one of Wednesday’s spares, which she gave to Enid after she accidentally bit off the head of hers after getting a text from her mom. “Or is your family coming, too?” Enid checked, just to clarify what Wednesday meant exactly by ‘we.’

Either way was fine, really, but Enid needed to know to help her pick the right outfit because if all of them were going, she would probably go with something classy, like a dress with cute ruffles or bows. But if it was a girl’s day out with Wednesday, then Enid had way more options because everything went with black and white. Too bad it was too warm for matching snoods, though, but at least there wouldn’t be a third wheel this time. So, yay!

“You and I,” Wednesday answered, and Enid liked the sound of that.

“Copy that, roomie,” Enid replied, smiling while she added a salute. “How many minutes are you giving me this time?”

“A hundred and eighty minutes,” Wednesday said dryly, putting that black charcoal toothpaste of hers on the white bristles of her black toothbrush.

Three hours? Sounded like a lunch date, or at least Enid hoped it would involve food because she hated skipping meals, and she had gotten hungrier since she transformed for the first time. Enid thought it was a temporary side effect, but apparently it wasn’t, and it kind of started to worry her. She wished she could talk about it with another wolf, but Enid had barely spoken to any of the furs at Nevermore, and she didn’t want to discuss it with her parents in case something was wrong with her.

Enid grabbed her strawberry toothpaste. She had mint as well, but she liked the strawberry flavor, and Enid’s teeth were in perfect condition. It was a wolf thing to have strong and healthy teeth so she could bite through bone during a full moon. Not that Enid wanted to attack animals because that was way too cruel, but it was good to know that she could. Wednesday should probably lock her up during the next full moon, though, to protect Pugsley’s alligator.   

“What?” Enid mumbled, pausing mid-brush when she caught Wednesday staring.

“Your teeth are sharper,” Wednesday replied, pointing at one of her own upper left teeth, and then at one of her upper right teeth, mirroring the location of Enid’s fangs when she transformed. “Fascinating,” Wednesday whispered while she took a step closer, ogling Enid like she was some kind of science project.

Enid bent toward the marble sink and spat out her toothpaste. She ran her tongue across her upper teeth, exhaling when she felt that those two particular teeth were indeed sharper than usual, but only a little bit. Wednesday must have observed her a lot to even notice, though nothing really went by Wednesday’s keen senses.

“Is there anything else that looks off about me?” Enid questioned, wondering if Wednesday thought she was weird for eating like a boy going through a growth spurt after hardly touching any food at all on her first day at Wednesday’s house.

“Enid,” Wednesday sighed, putting her toothbrush down. “Nothing about your looks is off-putting to me,” she said while she made eye contact. “If I were to take you to a museum, they would claim you as stolen art and lock me up for theft.”

OMG, she didn’t just say that!

Enid’s face got so hot at the major compliment, she felt it all the way up to the tips of her ears and all the way down her neck. For someone who wasn’t used to comforting people, Wednesday sure knew how to boost Enid’s confidence and make her feel good about herself. She loved how Wednesday didn’t mock her feelings, even if she didn’t understand them.

Wednesday blinked when Enid snapped her toothbrush in half.

“Oh, no,” Enid grimaced at the broken halves, caused by a lapse in her strength. “Wednesday, I’m—”

“Breathe,” Wednesday interjected, holding up her right hand, and Enid wanted to put her palm against hers, but that probably wasn’t why Wednesday held it there. “It’s just a toothbrush.”

“Right,” Enid nodded, but it was Wednesday’s.

On the bright side, Enid didn’t break anything valuable or destroy something in Wednesday’s room, but if Enid wasn’t careful, she could. Something about her was different, and not good different. More like what-the-heck different. It was the same feeling she had right before her bones started to crack during the blood moon, and it was worse whenever her mom texted her something upsetting, like how she was donating some of Enid’s clothes to charity.

That was how Enid ruined her toothbrush before Wednesday gave her a spare, but Enid hadn’t told Wednesday about the message because she didn’t want Wednesday to do something rash to get her clothes back. It would be pretty much impossible to track them down anyway, and they weren’t as priceless as Enid’s stuffed animals. She didn’t need Wednesday to get angry when she was already contemplating ways to turn Enid into an orphan. And she didn’t believe that Wednesday would kill her family, but Wednesday might harm them. Quite badly, even.

Because Wednesday said that she couldn’t live without Enid, and Wednesday had asked for her permission to paralyze her mom. It could have been an empty threat to make Enid feel better, but she had the feeling that Wednesday wanted to do it for real, and would in a heartbeat if Enid said yes. 

Enid rinsed her mouth, smiling when Wednesday handed her a new toothbrush. She owed Wednesday – not just for the toothbrushes but also for the shopping spree that she took her on last Sunday – and Enid knew that Wednesday wasn’t after getting something in return, but still. Enid owed her bestie a favor for sure, regardless of whether Wednesday agreed or not.

When Enid finished up in the bathroom, she went back into Wednesday’s bedroom to pick out an outfit. The moment Enid walked in, she saw Wednesday swallowing some type of pills. Probably iron supplements or vitamins that helped keep her healthy, if Enid had to guess. Wednesday must have been taking them for a while because the bottle that she put back in her drawer was nearly empty, and yet it was Enid’s first time noticing.

“No one sees me the way you do,” Enid sang quietly while she looked through her improvised wardrobe, glancing at Wednesday, who was putting some type of cream – sun cream, maybe? – on her face.

“Take my hand, it’s open,” Enid hummed along to the melody in her head, and she had to see that movie as soon as she got back to Nevermore. “What if we heal what’s broken?”

“Enid.”

“Yes?” Enid asked, shifting her gaze from her clothes to her roommate.

“I am going to the kitchen,” Wednesday announced, zipping up her hoodie, and – wait, when did she get dressed? What the heck? “Would you like a hideously colorful drink?”

“Yes, please,” Enid nodded, and she would tag along, but there was no way she would walk around in her babydoll. “Thanks, roomie,” she smiled, blowing Wednesday a kiss.

Wednesday mouthed something on her way out that Enid didn’t catch, and she really needed to start tuning in to her surroundings more. But if Wednesday had wanted her to hear, then she would have spoken up.

Enid wondered where they were going soon, and she loved how going out on Sunday seemed to be their new thing. First, the shopping trip last Sunday, and now going to some place Wednesday hadn’t disclosed yet. But she hadn’t told Enid about those stores beforehand either, keeping it a secret until the last minute instead, which was cool because Enid loved surprises. Nice ones, anyway.

*** 

Yamada, the sign outside of the building read where Wednesday had Lurch drop them off. A mixture of sweet and savory smells came from inside, which only grew stronger and more yummy when Wednesday opened the door. Enid’s stomach growled, even though she had just eaten four pieces of toast with eggs, a bowl of yoghurt, and one of Wednesday’s mother’s homemade blueberry muffins two hours ago.

Wednesday led Enid all the way to the back of the restaurant, where a plaque with ‘Addams’ engraved on it sat in the middle of a table tucked around the corner, like a hidden booth. The cushions were made out of black leather, with plenty of space for two on each side. Three, if people squeezed close together.

Enid slid into the booth, smiling when Wednesday moved to sit next to her. Maybe it was just about leg space and not so much about wanting to be close, but either way, Enid wasn’t complaining.

“The menu here must be expensive,” Enid guessed, though for her lots of places were pricey. But not have-your-own-signature-plaque kind of pricey. “And I know you can afford it, but I would be just as happy with a hotdog or a pretzel.”

Wednesday wriggled her nose, which was cute to see. “I would rather chew off my hand than eat such snacks,” she grumbled silently, and that tracked, but hotdogs weren’t that bad with the right topping.

Enid wanted to tell Wednesday that she should try out for the theater club next year because of her flair for the dramatics, but Enid strongly preferred making it to her seventeenth birthday. Her birthday was only three days away at this point, and maybe she should tell Wednesday, but Enid didn’t want to burden her best friend with expectations. Wednesday wasn’t a birthday celebrator, and while that was really hard for Enid to grasp, it was just something she had to compromise on. 

But Thing might surprise Enid with a cupcake and a party in his room, which would still be more than her parents ever did to wish her a happy birthday.

“What kind of snacks do you like?” Enid asked, genuinely curious because she never saw Wednesday eating things like popcorn or chocolate or chips or ice cream, and surely she had to like something.

“The kind that makes others squirm,” Wednesday answered, and that wasn’t really an answer, but it was enough for Enid to let it go.

A waitress approached their table, wearing a maroon blouse that was half tucked into black pants on her left side, and held up by a belt. The silver color of her belt buckle matched the chain attached to her left pocket and the dragon necklace around her neck. A bit of ink was visible where her blouse didn’t fully cover her arms and her chest, but not enough for Enid to see what kind of tattoo she had.  

Oh, God, Enid thought when she suddenly realized where her eyes were. It wasn’t intentional to sit there staring at another girl’s chest, but unintentional or not, it was really rude and inappropriate, so Enid quickly looked elsewhere. And when she did, she noticed a pair of cute black platform boots with bat wings on the girl’s feet that looked like something that Wednesday would have in her shoe closet but wouldn’t wear in public to hide how cute she was.

The last thing Enid noticed about their waitress was her black ponytail, sweeping back and forth across her lower back as she reached their table. And the girl’s polite smile, which seemed more sincere than just practiced for 5-star reviews and tips.

“Good to see you again, Wednesday-san,” the waitress greeted Wednesday, bowing her head.

“Konnichiwa, Yuzuki,” Wednesday replied with a short nod. “I have missed your family’s spicy salmon rolls.”

“We make them extra spicy for you, heatseeker,” the waitress – Yuzuki – winked at Wednesday.

Yuzuki looked like she was their age, and from what Enid had gathered so far, Wednesday was a regular at this place, or at least regular enough to have a budding friendship with the pretty waitress, who had a nickname for Wednesday. Enid wondered if Wednesday had a nickname for Yuzuki, too, but Wednesday didn’t really bother with calling people anything other than their name unless it was an insult. She did give Enid one, though.

Yuzuki smiled at Wednesday while she put down a pitcher of water and two glasses. “Who is your companion?” Yuzuki asked, glancing at Enid, who was a teensy bit uncomfortable with Yuzuki leaning over their table.

Up close, that dragon necklace looked like it was probably made of real silver, and even though Yuzuki was approximately one foot away from Enid, it made her shift toward Wednesday until she couldn’t scoot any further. And Enid didn’t mean to use Wednesday as a human shield, but she wasn’t painfully allergic to silver like Enid.

But even so, it was a silly move because Yuzuki was closer to Wednesday, which made her closer to Enid now, too.

“This is my friend, Enid,” Wednesday answered while she said nothing about Enid leaving basically zero space between them.

“Best friend,” Enid corrected with a proud smile. “And roommate.”

Wednesday moved her eyes to the side, staring at Enid in a way that told her she should probably scoot a few inches to give Wednesday her personal space back.

“Your loss,” Yuzuki smiled at Wednesday before looking Enid up and down, who had opted to wear a pink top with black pants and suspenders. “Or not,” Yuzuki added, winking at Wednesday again. 

Yuzuki turned around, swaying her hair as well as her hips as she walked away.

It was nice that someone seemed eager to be Wednesday’s best friend, but that spot was taken, and Enid was never giving it away. Wednesday was hers, and if Yuzuki or anyone else wanted her, they would have to fight Enid because she was not letting Wednesday go. Not ever.

Wednesday turned her head. “Was that necessary?” she questioned in a whisper.

Enid frowned. “Was what necessary?”

“Telling her that we are roommates.”

“Oh, that,” Enid replied, blinking when Wednesday clenched her jaw and breathed harshly through her nose. “Um, I guess not,” Enid admitted, pouring herself a glass of water to gulp down. “But we are roommates and that’s not a bad thing, is it?”

Was Enid’s outfit not okay? She didn’t want to embarrass Wednesday by looking like she couldn’t afford to eat here, although her pants and suspenders were new, paid for by Wednesday when they went shopping a week ago. Maybe Enid should have picked one of her dresses, but she thought the suspenders looked neat and different. Good different. Plus, Enid had always liked seeing other girls with an outfit like hers.

Wednesday’s jaw relaxed. “Yuzuki’s culture is not like ours,” she shared with a deep exhale. “She thinks we are fornicating.”

As soon as the last part of Wednesday’s sentence came out of her mouth, Enid choked on her water.

Okay, Enid shouldn’t have said anything, but how was she supposed to know that their waitress with the killer smile would think that they were being physically intimate with each other? Roommates were super common at boarding schools and in college, for outcasts and normies alike. And it was popular beyond education, too, because tons of young adults rented a space together to cut costs, which Enid definitely needed to do in the future if she ever wanted to save enough money for a place of her own.

“Should I move to the other side of the table?” Enid offered, just to make Wednesday more comfortable and to stop Yuzuki and her family from thinking that they were more than friends.

Not that it was a bad thing if people mistook them for a couple – Enid wasn’t homophobic, and it would be flattering if people thought that she could pull the prettiest girl at Nevermore – but she doubted Wednesday would like people to think that they were dating.

Wait, was Yuzuki into Wednesday?

“Don’t move,” Wednesday said, so staying still it was. “I can’t teach you if you do.”

Enid’s lips parted in a silent gasp as she connected the dots. “You mean…?” she asked, wriggling two fingers to mimic chopsticks.

Wednesday raised a brow. “We may be here a while,” she commented dryly, and for a second, she smiled.

“Hey,” Enid laughed, smacking Wednesday’s thigh.

“Oh no,” Enid whispered when Wednesday’s eyes widened slightly. “Wednesday, I’m—”

“Not in trouble,” Wednesday interrupted. “Yet,” she added with a smile that was as disturbing as it was cute.

Enid really hoped she hadn’t hit Wednesday too hard, though she shouldn’t have hit her to begin with. It was meant to be light and playful, and it felt light, but judging by the look on Wednesday’s face, it was probably the kind of slap that might leave a bruise.

Halfway through her second glass of water, Yuzuki came back with a black slab full of sushi and a bowl filled with wasabi. Enid hadn’t ordered anything yet, and neither had Wednesday, but she must have told the owners what to prepare when she made their reservation.

It was a bit odd that a table was reserved for them when the rest of the restaurant was empty, though.

“Enjoy your meal,” Yuzuki said with a kind smile. “On the house, heatseeker,” she winked, and yeah, okay, she definitely liked Wednesday.

Enid could tell Yuzuki what being roommates actually meant, but it was probably better if she didn’t. Besides, if Wednesday wanted Yuzuki to know that it was all a big misunderstanding, she would personally tell her. Wednesday didn’t mince her words, after all.

When Yuzuki left them alone so they could eat, Enid realized there weren’t any chopsticks on the table, or another kind of cutlery, for that matter. She thought Yuzuki forgot, but then Wednesday pulled out her personalized chopsticks, so maybe they were supposed to bring their own, or maybe Yuzuki assumed that they did.

“May I?” Wednesday asked, gesturing at Enid’s right hand.

Enid smiled at the sweet request. “Always,” she answered, raising her hand for Wednesday to take.

Wednesday’s fingertips brushed against Enid’s as Wednesday placed her chopsticks between Enid’s fingers. She watched while Wednesday adjusted her grip, and Enid was happy to learn, but it felt very different from holding a fork.

“All you need is practice and determination,” Wednesday claimed while she moved Enid’s hand with hers, toward the slab full of food. “With those, you can master this skill,” Wednesday added as she helped Enid pick up the first piece of sushi.

“Sure thing, sensei,” Enid replied, though what she really needed was luck and Wednesday’s steady hand to guide her like she was doing right now.

Enid grimaced when Wednesday dipped the sushi in the bowl full of wasabi, drowning it in the spicy green stuff that would burn Enid’s mouth. Thankfully, Wednesday didn’t move Enid’s hand to her mouth because there was no way she would open it if she did. Enid watched as Wednesday wrapped her lips around the food, and Enid couldn’t believe that Wednesday was really sharing her chopsticks. But she was because when she helped Enid to grab another piece of sushi, Wednesday brought it close to Enid’s mouth.

Enid was completely fine with it, though. She wasn’t grossed out by Wednesday, who had kindly licked off the remnants of wasabi from her chopsticks after eating the first piece of sushi, so Enid didn’t have to hunt down Yuzuki for a glass of milk. Yuzuki was right to call Wednesday a heatseeker. When it came to food, anyway, because other hot things, like the sun, Wednesday didn’t like so much.

Just when Enid opened her mouth to eat, Wednesday let go of Enid’s hand, without a heads-up. 

Enid dropped her sushi, and in a reflex, caught it with her other hand, using one of her claws. “Ta-dah!” she exclaimed while she lifted it to her lips, devouring it in one delicious bite. “How’s that for skill?” she grinned, proud of herself for being smooth for once.

“You are ridiculous,” Wednesday whispered with a twinkle in her eyes. “I can’t take you anywhere.”

“And yet you took me to your house,” Enid pointed out, retracting her claw. “So I might be ridiculous,” she admitted with a nod and a smile. “But I’m your ridiculous.”

***  

They wandered around long after the sun had set and turned the sky into a black canvas, but Enid didn’t mind because there weren’t any cars driving by or other people walking the same streets as they were. It was as if everyone else had gone to sleep already, which made it a lot easier for Enid to focus on Wednesday, whose heartbeat was super steady.

Enid opened the plastic wrapper from the salmon wrap she bought with the little bit of money she had. “Do you want a bite from my wrap?” she asked, hoping she made the right decision by not choosing the veggie wrap she had in mind first.

Wednesday’s favorite food seemed to be sushi, so it was a safe bet that she liked salmon. Unless it always had to be spicy, which Enid’s salmon wrap wasn’t, because it just had cream cheese and lettuce. But Wednesday needed to have some dinner as well, and while she never claimed she was skipping it, their usual dinnertime had gone by roughly two hours ago. They did have multiple courses at the restaurant, though. With Enid eating most of the food because she could stomach way more than Wednesday could.

“It is yours,” Wednesday answered while she made a left turn.

“I bought it for both of us,” Enid replied as she kept up. “Please, Wednesday?”

Wednesday stopped and took a bite before resuming their walk.

Enid smiled at the small victory and took the next bite before offering it to Wednesday again. They ended up sharing it equally, and when it was all finished, Wednesday took the plastic wrapper from Enid and stuffed it into one of her pockets.

Enid wanted to ask Wednesday where they were going exactly when they ended up at a park. There were grey pebbles on the ground, placed under and around a bunch of equipment. There was a swing set, the kind with black rubber seats and steel chains, and a merry-go-round with a black platform and white handles to hold, and a parkour with black monkey bars, and a steel slide that would get too hot to use in the sun, and a long log turned into a see-saw with no handles to avoid falling off, and a huge black spider net to climb.

“This playground has been abandoned for a while,” Wednesday shared as the one lamp out of four that wasn’t broken provided just enough light. “They wanted to tear it down, but my father bought the property.”

“Whoa,” Enid gasped, eyes wide. “I can’t believe you have your own playground,” she said while she took it all in, realizing once again how different life was for people with lots of money to spend. “Back where I grew up, I pretty much had to fight someone to go on the swings.”

Wednesday stepped onto the pebbles. “In San Francisco?” she asked, turning her head to look at Enid.

“Yeah,” Enid confirmed, nodding. “Back…oh,” she trailed off when it clicked that she hadn’t referred to it as home, and maybe it wasn’t anymore. If it ever really had been her home to begin with.

“Honestly…I don’t think I can call it home if you aren’t there,” Enid confessed out loud, chewing her lip. “You are my home, Wednesday.”

“It is settled then,” Wednesday replied, resuming her walk. “You are staying with me.”

“Yeah,” Enid exhaled softly. “Maybe I am,” she agreed, because it wouldn’t be so terrible to live with Wednesday, and maybe Enid’s parents wouldn’t care if she didn’t spend the next break with them either.

Enid followed Wednesday to the merry-go-round, and Enid wondered if Wednesday’s father had changed the playground to match Wednesday’s color scheme or if it was always this black, white, and grey. Odds were that it was the former because playgrounds generally had way more color, like red, blue, green, and yellow, and Wednesday’s father seemed to adore Wednesday very much from what Enid had observed. Even more than Mrs. Addams, who loved Wednesday dearly, but strangely hadn’t said a word to her during breakfast. Except for good morning when she walked in with Enid.

“Hold on,” Enid warned when they hopped onto the merry-go-round, putting one foot on the ground to get it going.

Enid used some of her strength to spin the platform, but as soon as it took off, Wednesday stumbled and bumped into Enid, arms flailing until they settled around Enid’s waist.

Enid lifted her foot to slow the merry-go-round down. “I meant hold on to the bars, but sure, this works,” she chuckled, putting one arm around Wednesday to steady her better. “I got you, Wens,” Enid promised, looking into Wednesday’s eyes.

Wednesday was cute when she scowled. “Don’t make me push you,” she grumbled, and she could try, but she didn’t have that kind of strength.

“Fair warning, I’m pulling you down with me if you do. So, don’t you dare.”

“Dare?” Wednesday replied, and right then, Enid knew she fucked up.

“Wens…”

Chapter Text

Wednesday procured a black hairbrush from the plastic bag Thing had brought her, per her instructions, while everyone else was occupied filling their stomachs with her mother’s breakfast. It was a small change, but a necessary one, to avoid further contact with Enid’s pink monstrosity of a brush.

“Here,” Wednesday spoke up as she placed it on Enid’s nightstand. “If you prefer white, however, I can exchange it for one,” Wednesday offered, glancing at Enid, who was in the midst of rummaging through her clothes.

“You really hate color, don’t you?” Enid commented, as though that wasn’t obvious since the day they met.

Yes, one happened to despise color when allergic to it, although Wednesday’s condition seemed to be the object of mockery and disbelief. Wednesday didn’t comprehend why everyone outside of her family treated it as a joke when she had it listed on her medical files, which was why, at Nevermore, they provided her with a custom uniform to avoid being sued for negligence.

Wednesday could present Enid with the evidence, but those files were private and contained more than her roommate needed to know. Enid had panicked before at the prospect of Wednesday dying, and therefore was better off not discovering that she was in a coma three years ago due to kidney failure. Unfortunately, Wednesday’s restful sleep as she awaited death’s embrace ended when she woke up with a new kidney from an anonymous donor and a scar on her abdomen.

“Do you want my help with your hair or not?” Wednesday asked while she grabbed the hairbrush.

Enid dropped the t-shirt she held in her hands. “Yes, please,” she answered, smiling in that way that made Wednesday feel strange, but she found she disliked it less as time went by.

“Good little wolf,” Wednesday responded, watching as Enid’s cheeks changed from rosy to red.

It was fascinating how such a small, unintentional praise elicited an immediate reaction, though people generally hungered for praise in any form they could receive it for the dopamine it released. Praises were considered rewards, and it was no surprise to uncover that Enid was fond of them. Wednesday would keep that in mind, but even with this new knowledge, the key was to be genuine and only offer praise where praise was earned.

“Come here,” Wednesday beckoned while she approached her bathroom.  

“Coming, roomie!” Enid called after her with the enthusiasm of a puppy receiving a treat.

Wednesday sat on the edge of her tub and gestured at the space next to her as she waited for Enid to follow suit. Despite her instructions, however, Enid sank to her knees in front of Wednesday. The proximity, combined with the sight of Enid smiling up at her, caught Wednesday so off-guard that she lost her balance.

Wednesday tried to remain upright by using her free hand to hold on, but didn’t reach far enough and missed her mark by an inch. She tipped backward and braced for the inevitability of a collision between the back of her skull and the marble inside of her bathtub.

“Gotcha,” Enid said while she gripped the front of Wednesday’s shirt, sparing her a possible concussion. “Sorry about the claws,” Enid added with a grimace as she steadied Wednesday, leaving little holes in the cotton of her shirt where Enid’s claws retracted.

Enid bit her lip and blinked. “I didn’t get you, did I?” she asked, ducking her head when she should be holding it high.

“Your reflex is immaculate,” Wednesday assured, using the back of the brush to lift Enid’s chin. “Never apologize for showing me your wolf,” Wednesday told her roommate, who should be proud of her abilities.

“Now get up,” Wednesday requested with a soft yet urgent tone. “You belong beside me, not beneath me.”

“Okay, but can we sit elsewhere?” Enid responded, chewing her lip as she braced her arms on either side of Wednesday’s legs. “Because if you fall again, I’ll probably end up on top of you,” Enid explained, which would be most inconvenient and intolerable.

Enid was welcome to put her sharp claws on Wednesday without asking, but not that hot body of hers. Being smothered by Enid’s heat once was a punishment that Wednesday did not wish to suffer twice. In hindsight, she should have allowed Enid to sleep on the floor on their last night at Nevermore, but Wednesday couldn’t do that to her injured friend. She would rather endure Enid cuddling with her every night than watch Enid in pain.   

Wednesday nudged Enid’s arm with her leg until she moved. Once Enid was no longer keeping her in place, Wednesday got up and walked over to the chair where Enid often put her clothes to keep them off the bathroom floor. Wednesday placed the chair in the center of the room, in front of the mirror, and gestured at it with her hand until Enid caught on.

Enid ran her fingers through her hair. “Wednesday?” she said softly while she looked at the mirror.

“Yes, Enid?” Wednesday responded, waiting for Enid to drop her hands so she could brush her hair.

“Do you think my blue hair dye is starting to wash out?” Enid asked while she turned her head a little, twirling a blue lock of hair around her finger. “My pink hair dye kind of looks more vibrant, doesn’t it?” she added as she turned her head to the other side, lifting a lock of pink hair.

The blue streaks in Enid’s hair had indeed begun to fade since they left Nevermore, but they were visible enough from where Wednesday was standing. Personally, she preferred the softer shade, considering it allowed Enid’s eyes to stand out more than her hair, proving that color wasn’t always hideous to look at. Enid didn’t need synthetic chemicals to color her hair and paint her face when she had such natural beauty underneath.  

“It’s true, isn’t it?” Enid whined as she fidgeted with her borrowed nightgown, loaned to her by Wednesday as an apology for pushing Enid off the merry-go-round last night. “Ugh, I knew I should have sprung for the more expensive brand like I did with the pink, but I didn’t want to spend all of my money.”

“Your hair is fine, Enid,” Wednesday sighed, confused how such a pretty and popular girl could succumb to foolish insecurities. “You don’t need artificial dyes to enhance the natural beauty of your soft locks.”

Enid’s hands stilled. “Did you just compliment my hair?”

“It’s not a compliment, it’s—”

“A fact?” Enid interrupted with a chuckle and a smile. “Yeah, I’ve heard that excuse before.”

“Call it what you want, Enid. It won’t diminish my opinion.”

“Oh, I’m familiar with your opinion, art thief,” Enid chuckled, warm and pleasant.

Wednesday knew that particular compliment would come back to bite her in the ass, but it was the truth. Enid’s features were captivating and art-inspiring, and the longer Wednesday had her company, the stronger she realized she needed to rewrite her book to correct her portrayal of Enid.

Enid was bound to break many hearts, but if anyone ever broke hers, Wednesday would stab theirs.

Wednesday brushed Enid’s hair and secured the hairpins so Enid could return to throwing her clothes around haphazardly, and hum that song she couldn’t get out of her head.

“I’m going to remove my stitches,” Wednesday announced, deciding that it was time to do so before the remaining four ripped. She exerted herself too much on the monkey bars last night and tore two of her stitches, but it didn’t matter, considering they had to come out anyway.

“I’ll be out once I’m finished,” Wednesday said, and she expected Enid to move, but she didn’t. “Enid—”

“I heard you,” Enid interrupted while she leaned against the sink. “But I’m not leaving.”

Wednesday could argue that Enid was too squeamish to stay, but her roommate was too stubborn to listen, and Wednesday didn’t have all day. She grabbed her medical kit, which she had left on her side of the sink, and exposed her left shoulder.

“Um, Wednesday…,” Enid whispered, working her jaw. “Why is that side loose?”

“I pulled two stitches recently,” Wednesday answered while she began to rip out the other four.

Wednesday’s skin was sore and slightly red, but the wound had healed enough for it to start forming a scar.

“Seriously?” Enid huffed while she crossed her arms across her chest. “You pulled not one but two of your stitches? And you didn’t say anything?” she commented, narrowing her eyes at Wednesday.

Wednesday looked the other way, swallowing at Enid’s stern tone and darkened gaze.

“Unbelievable,” Enid muttered, shaking her head while she ran a washcloth under the faucet. “Come here,” she sighed as she wrung out the washcloth before turning to face Wednesday.

Wednesday took a step closer and remained still as Enid did the same. Blue eyes searched Wednesday’s with an unspoken question, perhaps to inquire how she had torn her stitches exactly. Wednesday could tell Enid, though she would rather not sour Enid’s memory of the fun they had yesterday.

Enid dabbed the lukewarm washcloth against Wednesday’s shoulder, drawing a sharp exhale out of her mouth.

“Are you okay, Wens?” Enid asked softly, lowering the washcloth.

Wednesday had noticed Enid calling her that once in a while since last night. It was unusual, but tolerable, as far as Enid was concerned. If anyone else were to repeat it, however, they would end up without a tongue to speak, considering the nickname belonged to Enid and Enid alone.

***   

Spending the afternoon outside, while planned, wasn’t going the way Wednesday had in mind. But when Enid suggested breathing in fresh air in the garden, Wednesday grabbed a black fleece blanket from her room and followed Enid out. Soon, Enid’s birthday would come to pass, and Wednesday could resume her daily schedule without giving in to Enid’s spontaneous whims.

“No, no, no,” Enid said while she cupped her hands around a daisy. “You can’t eat the bee.”

Wednesday sat cross-legged on her blanket, steering clear of the grass to avoid staining her black and white striped leggings, as well as her dress, which was suitable for dry cleaning only. She could have changed into a pair of previously stained clothes from her trunk in the storage room, though the smell of blood would draw unwanted attention and concern from Enid.

Keeping Enid happy was imperative to ensure she had no reason to leave. Wednesday wasn’t good at making friends, but she had connected with Enid, and Wednesday needed her to stay, even if the exposure to color slowly killed her. Oddly enough, however, Enid made Wednesday want to delay her date with death, for she could not protect Enid if she didn’t roam among the living with her.

“Nyxie, no,” Enid huffed as she kept Nyx away from the bee she tried to grab. “We do not eat our helpful little friends,” Enid continued, and she was right, though not in the way she thought. “And I’m pretty sure I’ve read that their venom is fatal to you guys if you get stung,” she added, which was right.

Bee pollen and honey were safe for Nyx and Erebus to feed on, but living bees were not. Wednesday would have intervened if Enid hadn’t, who continued to grow more tolerable, and made an effort to learn about sugar gliders beyond what Wednesday had shared with her.

“I’m putting you in time out,” Enid said while she placed Nyx on the blanket with Wednesday.

“Okay,” Wednesday spoke up, sparing a small smile. “You may co-parent my children throughout the duration of your stay,” she relented in a belated response to Enid’s request. 

Wednesday wasn’t above using Nyx and Erebus as an incentive to keep Enid around. The stronger their bond, the better, so if Enid wished to be a mother-figure to them, she could be. Sentimental attachments were paramount to someone as soft-hearted as Enid, who yearned to tether herself to others. Wednesday had no such desire in the past, until she lost Enid as a roommate and was overcome by sorrow.

With that memory seared into her brain, Wednesday reconsidered her decision to urge her parents to find an interior decorator for Enid’s room. Wednesday would rather torch every vacant room than watch Enid move out again. It was strange how infectious friendship was, changing Wednesday’s perspective, but it didn’t feel wrong to let Enid in.

“You’re letting me co-parent your kids?” Enid responded while her face lit up like the stars at night, bright and beautiful. “Really?”

“If you solemnly swear not to refer to them as furbabies.”

Enid nodded. “I accept your terms and conditions.”

“Welcome to the family.”

Enid squealed. “Just so you know, I’m mentally hugging you right now,” she said with a blinding smile while she wrapped her arms around herself.

“Ridiculous,” Wednesday whispered, giving in to her urge to smile. 

“Your ridiculous, remember?”

“Vividly,” Wednesday swallowed.

Enid took out her phone and pranced around the garden while she took a number of pictures of her surroundings as well as herself, posing for each one. Wednesday did not doubt that Enid would share several of them on social media, for her followers to see and comment on with silly emojis and grammatically inaccurate opinions.

Wednesday watched as Enid leaned against the tree and held her phone up with one hand while she made a peace sign with the other. Wednesday failed to comprehend Enid’s obsession with photos that didn’t pertain to images of a crime scene, but at least Enid wasn’t distraught over another message from her mother, whom Wednesday found out had donated some of Enid’s clothing she had left in San Francisco.

Not that Wednesday had intended to read the latest conversation between Enid and that hag of a mother of hers, but Wednesday had happened to stumble across it last night when Enid left her phone in the bathroom after changing into Wednesday’s nightgown.

“We should take a selfie of us,” Enid suggested as she rushed closer. “Just one picture,” she insisted, batting her eyelashes.

“Very well,” Wednesday relented, though she refused to smile or say cheese. “You may take one.”

Enid sat down next to Wednesday and lifted her arm before putting it down again.

“Is it okay if I move closer?” Enid asked, though she didn’t have those reservations yesterday when they went out for lunch.

In fairness, Wednesday presumed it was the silver that Yuzuki was wearing that made Enid move, although it didn’t explain why she shifted closer to it rather than further away. Unless she knew that Wednesday was hellbent on protecting her, even if she had to shove Yuzuki to keep her distance from Enid.

“Just get it over with, Enid,” Wednesday answered while she leaned her side toward Enid’s to appease her.

“Okay…,” Enid smiled as she held up her phone. “3…2…1,” she counted, and then a flash went off.

How considerate of Enid to warn Wednesday about that detail.

“Wanna see the pictures I took?” Enid asked, and the first answer that came to Wednesday’s mind was no.

Enid moved her finger across her screen and gasped when a picture of Wednesday was revealed, which appeared to have been taken last night. She was at the playground, lying on top of the monkey bars, where she smiled down at Enid, who had told Wednesday that there was no way she had the strength to pull herself up on bars she could barely reach. Wednesday was aware of Enid holding her phone, but Wednesday didn’t know she had used it to take a picture of her.

“I meant to swipe the other way,” Enid groaned. “You weren’t supposed to see…”

Wednesday blinked. “You took a picture of me smiling?”

“I can delete this one, if you want,” Enid offered, hovering her fingertip above her screen. “Because I should have asked your permission first,” she added, and Wednesday would have preferred that, but then she wouldn’t have smiled, considering she never did when someone took a photograph of her.

Enid was the first to capture one of Wednesday smiling, and she could instruct her to delete the dreadful evidence, but it was a part of a good memory which Enid seemed intent on preserving.

“You can keep the picture,” Wednesday decided, for now. “But do not share it with others.”

“I swear I’ll never show it to anyone. You can trust me, Wednesday. I would never share you.”

The feeling was incredibly mutual. Wednesday didn’t want to share Enid either, especially not with that leech or some idiotic boy.

Enid scrolled on, showing the new pictures that she took today, including several of Nyx and Erebus.

“I’m totally going to use this one as my new home screen wallpaper,” Enid announced, smiling at the selfie of Wednesday and her. “I’ve always wanted a picture of me and my bestie,” Enid shared while she changed her home screen wallpaper from her standing near a rainbow to the picture of the two of them. 

Yoko had a heart in Enid’s phone, but Wednesday was on Enid’s screen. That had to mean more than a silly pink heart emoji. Plus, Enid swore that they would always be roommates and referred to Wednesday as her best friend, whereas Yoko was just a friend. And Wednesday allowed Enid to co-parent Erebus and Nyx, which Yoko could not offer her.

Wednesday frowned when she felt a light tug at her left braid, and then her right, but it wasn’t Enid. With a sigh, Wednesday realized that her pets were no longer on the blanket. Her suspicion was confirmed when Enid giggled, as if it wasn’t her fault for bringing Erebus and Nyx out in the garden.

“I can give you a hand if you allow me to touch your hair long enough to do so,” Enid offered while she held up her hands. “It’s up to you.”

Wednesday could manage on her own, though she would rather not have to redo her braids by using her technique, where she untied them to shake Erebus and Nyx out of her hair. It was an undignified sight, and too messy for Wednesday’s liking.

“Fine,” Wednesday relented, betrayed by her own children. “You may help me.”

Enid knelt on the blanket and leaned in close. Her breath was warmer than the sunlight, but the strawberry scent of the milkshake she drank earlier, while too sweet for Wednesday’s liking, wasn’t unpleasant.

“Howdy,” Enid grinned when their eyes met.

“Eres ridícula,” (you are ridiculous) Wednesday whispered while she fought her urge to smile, to hide her weakness. “¿Qué me estás haciendo?” (what are you doing to me) she wondered quietly, sticking to Spanish so she could speak without being heard.

“Um…Wednesday?” Enid said as she backed up, holding Nyx and Erebus in her hands.

“Yes, Enid?”

“Ridícula means ridiculous, right?” Enid translated accurately, though that one was easy to decipher. “You have a nice accent, by the way. And a lovely voice in general, no matter which language you speak.”

Wednesday’s stomach flipped at the unprecedented flattery.

“I need to go to town,” Wednesday announced as she got up. “Will you look after Erebus and Nyx while I’m gone?”

“I’d be happy to babysit our kids,” Enid responded with a smile and a nod. “But don’t disappear too long, okay?”

*** 

Wednesday walked up to Thing’s piano, opened the wing, and placed the small trunk carrying her purchases from her outing this afternoon inside. Thing wouldn’t mind, and it was one of the few places where Wednesday’s mother and her curious little brother wouldn’t snoop around. Wednesday’s room belonged on that list, and while Pugsley knew better than to set a single toe inside, Wednesday couldn’t say for certain that her mother wouldn’t.

With Enid around, setting up traps to deter intruders was not an option, although her presence did have its advantages. Wednesday hid Goody’s book in Enid’s colorful suitcase to ensure her mother didn’t torture Thing until he gave it up. Wednesday’s mother wouldn’t go near Enid’s belongings or threaten her, not when Wednesday had made it clear that Enid was under her protection and therefore untouchable.

Wednesday glanced at her cello, which she told Enid she would play for an hour while Enid listened to music in her room. Wednesday sat on her chair and wondered if Enid was propped up on her bed, singing along to her music while her legs danced through the air.

Wednesday shook the mental image of her roommate and positioned her cello between her legs. She turned the sheet on her music stand in front of her, skipping pages until she found the one she was looking for. Wednesday reached for her bow and started playing an old favorite of hers.

“Come on, baby,” Wednesday sang as she followed the notes, moving her bow. “Don’t fear the reaper.”

Her father chose that unfortunate moment to walk in, clapping as he entered the Echo Chamber – named for its acoustics, which enhanced any musical performance. Wednesday did not recall providing her father with a verbal invitation of any kind to witness her play, and promptly paused at the intrusion.

“Bellísima, my little tormenta,” her father said, kissing the tips of the fingers on his right hand. “I haven’t heard you sing since that storm we chased for your eleventh birthday,” he reminisced with a smile. “You have your mother’s talent.”

“I enjoyed it when the pastor fainted after the storm swept away the church,” Wednesday responded, remembering well how bystanders had called her a blasphemous girl and told her she would go to hell.

The lightning that struck that night amidst the storm was marvelous. It was the only birthday Wednesday had willingly celebrated, and when a rooftop came down on Pugsley’s head, Wednesday sang a rendition of ‘Another One Bites The Dust’. Unfortunately, her mother insisted on digging him out, ignoring Wednesday’s suggestion to return the next morning to look for his remains.

“Do not speak of this with Mother,” Wednesday requested as she put her cello aside. “I am not interested in harmonizing at the next burial in our graveyard.”

“I won’t say a word,” her father promised, locking his lips with an invisible key.

Wednesday noticed her father approaching her with open arms and quietly stepped into his embrace. Her father was soft, but he was one of Wednesday’s favorite people. And normie or not, her father was special and meant more to Wednesday than she was capable of saying.

“Father, I need your help,” Wednesday spoke up as she waited for the one-sided hug to be over so she could move her arms again. “It’s…imperative.”

“What is it, my little storm cloud?” her father asked, and of all the nicknames he had given her, storm cloud and tormenta – the Spanish word for storm – were Wednesday’s favorite.

“Can you pick up a refill of my allergy cream and pills?” Wednesday requested, and she wished she wouldn’t have to ask, but her prescription was running out at an alarming pace. “It appears my allergy is getting worse,” she divulged while she thought about the situation with Enid’s lipstick.

Wednesday hadn’t broken out into hives that night, so the two pills she took an hour prior to the unbidden touch must have worked long enough to wash off the evidence. However, something had gone wrong for Wednesday’s body to react the way it did. Perhaps the damage was entirely internal from the pink color entering her pores, poisoning her from the inside out.

“I’ll ask your mother,” her father said while he finally let go, but if Wednesday wanted that, she would have done so herself. “She keeps a supply in our bathroom, and she never goes anywhere without your grandmama’s cream.”

Wednesday wasn’t aware that her mother did that, considering she never mentioned it whenever she handed Wednesday a new bottle of allergy pills. She had always assumed that her mother picked up her refill on the last day when her bottle was supposed to be empty, if she stuck to one a day, which Wednesday had not.

Her father’s information shone a new light on the matter, but it didn’t change anything.

“Mother and I aren’t on speaking terms at the moment,” Wednesday responded, although she believed her father was aware of that fact and used her health as a crutch to force a conversation between them.

It was a futile attempt, of course. Wednesday had said what she needed to, and now it was up to her mother to decide whether she wanted to accept a raven or push her away. Either was fine, though Wednesday would hate it if their family tie ended up severed. Her mother may have failed her, but at the end of the day, Wednesday would put her life on the line to save her mother, as she would for every Addams, and for Enid.

Wednesday swallowed, but the lump that had formed in her throat refused to go away. “I need one more favor,” she asked her father while he was still there.

“Anything for my little bombita.”  

Chapter Text

Enid woke up alone, which wasn’t unusual because Wednesday was always awake before her, but today wasn’t like the other days. It was Enid’s birthday, the big 1-7 that came before the even bigger 1-8, and while she hadn’t told Wednesday and didn’t expect any birthday wishes from her, Enid had hoped to see her roommate first thing in the morning so she could wish her a good morning, and maybe get a good morning back instead of a quick ‘morning’.

Enid rolled over toward the nightstand to grab her phone, but then she remembered it wasn’t there. She wanted to check it for messages, to see if someone remembered what day it was, but she had misplaced her phone the other day, and she had no idea where. Enid had tried to retrace her steps, of course, and it would have helped if Wednesday had a phone so she could call Enid’s, although her battery was pretty low when she had it last.

Happy birthday to me, Enid thought, although the happy part was kind of debatable.

She was three thousand miles away from her family, which wasn’t a bad thing because they didn’t celebrate Enid’s birthday anyway, and she’d rather be with Wednesday than be anywhere else without her. But it also meant that she was all of those miles away from the Grays, who did make Enid feel special. She would have loved to see Isla and find out if she had grown taller and had learned to pronounce more words, like the R in birthday. And Enid wanted to give Isla the biggest hug and let her know that she was still planning on teaching her how to surf. Just not this summer, but definitely the next.

Enid heard the door open, and she expected Wednesday to walk in, but instead, it was a ghost that looked a lot like Wednesday.

A cute, messy little ghost who left a trail of white footprints behind her.

“Um, Wednesday,” Enid said while she got out of bed. “Why is there white powder all over you?”

Wednesday shook some of it out of her hair. “It’s flour.”

“Okay,” Enid nodded, smiling at her roomie, who dared to call her ridiculous only to show up like this. “Why are you covered in flour?”

“There has been a mild explosion in the kitchen,” Wednesday answered, which sounded like an understatement.

On the other hand, Enid’s sleep wasn’t disturbed by any loud noises, and Wednesday’s eyebrows were still there, albeit covered in flour. Enid really wished she had her phone right now so she could take a picture and add it to her new folder labeled ‘BFF’ with two black hearts. Originally, she was going to put a red heart, but black suited Wednesday more, and red hearts were more of a romantic relationship type of emoji, so Enid went with black.  

Wednesday moved her hands across her cheeks, but all she did was spread the flour around more. Assuming that her goal was to remove a bunch before taking a bath, so it wouldn’t turn into a paste when mixed with water. But if Wednesday somehow got herself stuck, Enid would happily pull that adorable idiot free.

“Come here,” Enid chuckled lightly, wiping Wednesday’s face with her hands.

When Wednesday stiffened, Enid realized what she was doing, without asking.

God, Enid sucked at this. She knew she needed to control her impulses, but sometimes she forgot because Enid’s comfort zone was the opposite of Wednesday’s, which wasn’t an excuse to run a bulldozer over her boundaries.

“Enid.”

“I know,” Enid exhaled, dropping her hands while she backed up. “I’m so—”

“Happy birthday,” Wednesday cut her off, and then she stepped forward and leaned in, fluttering her lips against Enid’s cheek.

Enid wondered if she was having a weird sugar-induced dream because she drank like three furraccinos with extra syrup last night, but the softness of Wednesday’s lips felt too real to be imaginary. It only lasted for a second, if that, but Enid still felt it on her cheek, cold yet warm at the same time.

“Did you just…,” Enid whispered, touching her cheek. “You know people generally give three kisses, right?” she blurted out, and it was a stupid thing to say, but it was also the truth because three was customary.

“Don’t push it,” Wednesday replied, and yeah, that was fair. “You can have another next year.”

“OMG,” Enid exclaimed, smiling so big her jaw hurt. “You’re going to wish me a happy birthday again next year.”

Wednesday was the best best friend ever, stepping out of her comfort zone just to make Enid happy. And she loved that Wednesday did that, but she really didn’t have to go through so much trouble. A hug would have been fine, or a fist bump, even, whichever Wednesday was the most comfortable with. But Enid would be lying if she said she didn’t like that Wednesday kissed her on the cheek because it was such a huge token of affection on her part.

“Here,” Wednesday said, pulling Enid’s phone out of her pocket. “Thing found it,” Wednesday explained, handing it back to Enid, who didn’t even know that Thing was helping her look.

“Oh, thanks,” Enid replied, noticing that her battery was nearly full when she could have sworn there was less than ten percent left shortly before she misplaced her phone. Huh.

But the important part was that Enid had her phone back now, so she hadn’t lost it. Not for long, anyway, although going without it for a while wasn’t the worst thing. Enid didn’t need her phone twenty-four seven, and she certainly didn’t need it right now. And that picture she wanted? Probably not going to happen because there was no way someone as organized and clean-cut as Wednesday would allow visual evidence of her looking messy for once.

Enid tossed her phone onto Wednesday’s bed, deciding to check for messages after freshening up and getting dressed. And help her ghost of a roomie get slightly more color again. 

“Let’s get you defloured,” Enid smiled at Wednesday, who, on top of a bath, needed a vacuum and a mop to clean her otherwise spotless floor.  

Wednesday’s eyes widened. “Excuse you?”

“You’re covered in flour, remember? And while I think you’re cute as a ghost, you should probably wash it off before someone mistakes you for a bun and puts you in the oven.”

“The oven is currently unavailable,” Wednesday stated, and oh, God, maybe she wasn’t kidding about there having been an explosion.

To be fair, the soundproofing in this place was insane because Enid couldn’t hear anything from other rooms in the house unless she used her wolf hearing, and even then, it wasn’t much. The one thing that Enid’s family lacked the most that the Addams family had in abundance – aside from love, which was number one by a landslide on top of another landslide because it was that massive – was privacy.

They went into the bathroom together, where Wednesday dusted off more of the flour she was covered in. Enid wondered if this was the point where Wednesday would finally untie her braids in front of her, but the odds pointed to no because Wednesday was stubborn and refused to look untidy, even though Wednesday was literally covered in flour and still effortlessly pretty right now.

Enid grabbed her cordless hair dryer and approached the cute ghost. “This is going to be hot, but it’s the quickest way to get rid of the flour,” she said, although she would actually have to turn it on first.

“Oscar Wilde said wisdom comes with age,” Wednesday quoted, which was random, but okay. “It appears this does not apply to all.”

“No, it appears not,” Enid chuckled as she agreed with the little ghost. “Remind me which one of us exploded the kitchen exactly?”

“Technically, the kitchen remains intact. The oven, however, was collateral damage in the restricted explosion.”

Enid put her hair dryer aside, letting Wednesday get rid of the flour her way. With a smile, Enid took one last, long look at the cutie before turning her back toward Wednesday to give her some privacy. Enid didn’t get a picture, but there was no way she would ever forget what her best friend looked like right now.

Enid combed her hair while Wednesday cleaned up, foregoing the hairpins because Enid wasn’t good at aligning them straight. If Enid put them in, Wednesday’s family would be able to tell the difference immediately, thus revealing the secret that Wednesday helped Enid with her hair. She did feel like Wednesday’s mother knew, but Enid had promised not to tell anyone.

Once Enid finished up in the bathroom, she went back to Wednesday’s bedroom to get dressed. Enid picked out a pink plaid skirt with thin black lines that came with pockets – pockets! – and a very soft pink blouse that almost looked white if she squinted. It didn’t take her long at all to decide and get changed, but by the time Enid was just buttoning up the last two buttons of her blouse, Wednesday walked out of the bathroom.

“Whoa,” Enid whispered, hands freezing as she looked at her roommate, who had traded the clothes that were hiding under a layer of flour for a black dress with see-through sleeves. “You look like a dark fairy.”

“Dark? Yes. Fairy? No,” Wednesday replied, but in Enid’s opinion, the answer to both was yes.

Enid went with Wednesday to the dining hall to have breakfast together as usual. Except, this morning wasn’t like the other ones, and neither was breakfast because the moment Enid walked in, she was greeted by a feast of pancakes. The table was filled with plates full of strawberries and blueberries, a hot chocolate fountain, cans of whipped cream, jars of Nutella and jam, bowls full of nuts, a bottle of honey, and ice cream.

Thing was on the table, wearing a pink little party hat. He waved at Enid before pushing a bottle of syrup toward Enid’s plate, where she always sat next to Wednesday.

“Ooh, syrup,” Enid said, licking her lips. “Did you do all of this?” she asked Wednesday, whispering even though it was just the two of them and Thing in the dining hall.

“Did you even sleep?” Enid questioned before Wednesday could answer.

“How do you think the oven exploded?” Wednesday replied, and oh, God, she didn’t.

“You’re crazy,” Enid whispered, smiling at her best friend, who was insane for pulling this off by herself.

“Lo soy,” (I am) Wednesday sighed in Spanish. “Pero sólo para ti,” (but only for you) she added quietly.

Enid wanted to open her mouth and tell Wednesday that she understood every word, and that she always had whenever she switched to Spanish, but then Enid got distracted by a familiar tapping sound.

“Happy birthday,” Thing signed when Enid looked at him. “You can have my rainbow nail polish,” Thing offered, presenting her with the bottle.

“Aw, Thing,” Enid exhaled, putting her right hand on her chest. “Thank you.”

“I really like your hat, by the way,” Enid commented. “Do you have one for me?”

“How about a crown?”

Enid turned toward the direction of the familiar voice. “Mrs. Addams, good morning,” she greeted Wednesday’s mother, who was holding a black paper crown with little gold stars at the top.

“Good morning, dear,” Mrs. Addams replied while she approached.

Enid smiled when Mrs. Addams put the paper crown on her head, and she almost cried because it was so nice of Mrs. Addams to make her a crown for her birthday.

Mrs. Addams raised her right hand with her palm upward and her fingers closed. “This is for you,” she said as she uncurled her fingers, revealing a key.

“Oh,” Enid whispered while she picked up the gift. “What does it open?”

“It’s a key to our house,” Mrs. Addams answered with a kind smile. “I want you to know that you are always welcome here, Enid.”

If someone could gift Enid tissues next, that would be great because she was going to need them any minute now. It was like Wednesday and her family had singlehandedly decided to make up for the past sixteen birthdays that Enid’s parents didn’t bother to celebrate.

“And this is a gift for your birthday,” Mrs. Addams said, like the key wasn’t a gift when it was a huge gift, holding up a necklace with her other hand.

It was gold-colored, with the first initial of Enid’s name attached to the center of a circle. It looked a lot like the necklace Wednesday had, except that hers was silver-colored. Enid noticed Wednesday looking at her mother strangely, like she wanted to tell her or ask her something, but Wednesday didn’t say anything. She just stood there, watching and observing.

“I love it,” Enid exclaimed with a sincere smile. “Thank you, Mrs. Addams.”

When Mrs. Addams opened her arms in a silent invitation, Enid didn’t hesitate for a second to step into her embrace. And when Mrs. Addams hugged her, Enid couldn’t hold back her tears any longer.

So this was what it felt like to have a loving mother figure.

***  

Enid was putting strawberries and syrup onto her second pancake when Wednesday excused herself for a minute, leaving Enid alone with Thing and with Mrs. Addams. It felt a bit strange to have breakfast without Mr. Addams and Pugsley, but Mrs. Addams said that they went out to run an errand and wouldn’t join them. There were lots and lots of pancakes, though. Way more than Mrs. Addams, Wednesday, and Enid could eat, so there would be plenty left over for Mr. Addams and Pugsley if they wanted some, and for Pugsley’s alligator, Chompie.

Wednesday hadn’t actually eaten a pancake yet, but she did have a bowl with fruit and yogurt that Enid didn’t spot on the table amidst all of the sweets, but apparently was there. She wondered if Wednesday didn’t like pancakes or if she just wanted something lighter to digest. But Enid couldn’t imagine someone not liking pancakes because they were so yummy, although not everyone had a sweet tooth. Wednesday probably didn’t.

Enid smiled when she saw Wednesday return, and her smile got a lot bigger when she saw Wednesday holding what looked like a homemade birthday cake. The entire cake was covered in pink frosting, smoothed out to perfection, and decorated with sprinkles in every color of the rainbow. There were strawberries lined up on top around the edge, with dollops of whipped cream, and Enid loved, loved, loved the unicorn cake topper, which was the icing on an already perfect day.

“Happy birthday,” Wednesday said while she set the cake down. “To you,” she added dryly.

“Isn’t this the part where you’re supposed to sing?” Enid replied, chuckling when Wednesday’s eye twitched.

“Death, destruction, and despair. People dying everywhere,” Mrs. Addams sang with an unsettling smile. “May the cities in your wake, burn like candles on your cake.”

That was not the birthday song Enid was expecting to hear, if any, but okay. At least the intention came from a kind place.

“This cake is perfect,” Enid told Wednesday as she smiled up at her. “Hands down best birthday ever,” Enid shared, and while the bar was admittedly low, Wednesday topped it so much already that no other birthday might compare.

Enid looked at her birthday cake, which was big enough to cut into six large pieces, so she could probably eat two, if Wednesday and her family didn’t mind. One slice now and the other for dessert, unless it was too delicious and Enid couldn’t resist eating them both. She could probably eat at least half of her cake in one sitting if nobody stopped her, but crazy appetite or not, Enid wanted to share.

Mrs. Addams scooched her chair back at the same time Enid heard footsteps on the other side of the door. Maybe it was a coincidence, but then Mrs. Addams opened the door and welcomed her husband home with a kiss.

Mr. Addams and Pugsley pushed a cart inside, covered in gift paper, revealing just the wheels at the bottom, and an insanely giant cake with no less than six tiers stacked on top. Each layer was a color of the rainbow, starting with red at the top and ending with purple at the bottom.

OMG, did they invite their entire family?

Wednesday wouldn’t spring that on Enid without warning her, right? Because she wasn’t good with big crowds and outside of Thing, Wednesday’s parents, and Wednesday’s brother, every Addams was a complete stranger to Enid, and vice versa.

“Father,” Wednesday spoke up, frowning. “You did not need to bring cake.”

“It’s okay,” Enid assured her best friend, whose sweet effort wasn’t in vain. “I get to enjoy yours all by myself then,” she winked at Wednesday, deciding then and there that nobody else was getting a piece, except for Wednesday.

Wednesday’s frown disappeared, and for a split second, her mask cracked and she almost smiled. But it was enough for Enid to know that she wanted to.

Enid heard a familiar giggle nearby. “…Isla?” she wondered out loud, but it couldn’t possibly be her because she was all the way in San Francisco.

The gift paper wrapped around the cart began to tear, and then Isla jumped out. She was a few inches bigger than the last time Enid saw her, but it was definitely her.

“Isla!” Enid gasped while she got up from her chair. “But how? Where…?” she whispered as she stuck out her arms to catch Isla, who jumped up to hug her.

“Oh, my God, Wednesday,” Enid said, eyes wide as she looked around for Isla’s parents. “Don’t tell me you abduct—” Enid faltered when she spotted another guest entering the dining hall.

A woman who looked a lot like Isla’s mother –but couldn’t be unless she got her arms tattooed and dyed orange and pink streaks in her blonde hair – walked up to them. Her eyes were green, not blue, and she had a few freckles on her cheeks that complemented her tanned skin. She was pretty, and up close, definitely a few years younger than Isla’s mom. Early to mid-twenties, if Enid had to guess.

“Auntie Fey!” Isla exclaimed, smiling from ear to ear as she reached out until she was able to grab the woman’s hand. “This is Enie!” Isla shared while she tugged the woman closer.

“Hello, Enid,” the woman said, knowing her name when Enid didn’t know hers. “It’s lovely to meet the babysitter my niece can’t shut up about,” the woman smiled, extending a hand that turned out to be warm when Enid accepted the handshake.

The woman was definitely a wolf because only wolves ran as hot as she did. This had to be Isla’s mother’s sister, who was kicked out of her pack and her family for mating with a siren. She was the last person Enid expected to show up with Isla, hinting that Isla’s mother not only didn’t cut ties with her sister and therefore went against the pack’s rules, but also trusted Enid enough not to tell others.

Enid would never betray the Grays, and if push came to shove, she would rather take their side than her family’s.

“I’m Freya,” the woman introduced herself, putting a name to her pretty face. “Isla’s aunt.”

“I had my father arrange the invite and plane tickets,” Wednesday revealed, though at this point, Enid had suspected that Wednesday was behind this. “I wanted your favorite person to be here on your birthday, to surprise you.”

“My favorite was already here,” Enid exhaled, smiling at Wednesday.

Freya’s eyes flickered between Wednesday and Enid, and then she winked at Enid, but she had no idea why Freya did that. Maybe there was something in her eye, so it looked like she winked when she wasn’t intentionally trying to wink at Enid.

“I flown in the sky, Enie!” Isla exclaimed, smiling from ear to ear. “With Auntie Fey and my wife!”

“She’s my wife, you little monster,” Freya chuckled while she snatched Isla from Enid’s arms, launching a tickle attack on Isla. “My wife,” Freya repeated to the squealing little kiddo. “Not yours.”

“My wife is arranging our flight to Canada,” Freya explained before Enid could ask where Freya’s wife was, and it also answered why Isla referred to her Aunt Freya’s wife as hers. “It’s where all the lone wolves go, to join the outcasts who’ve been kicked out of their packs or shunned from their families,” Freya shared, which was brand new information because Enid thought Freya was just going there on vacation. “We have our own Ohana there, with a beautiful blend of outcasts, living together in harmony.”

“Sounds like a cult,” Wednesday commented.

“Ohana means family,” Enid clarified, familiar with the term, which she guessed her best friend wasn’t. “And I think it sounds nice.”

“It’s not a cult, it’s a community,” Freya assured with a kind smile. “You’re welcome there anytime, should you need it,” she offered, holding out a card to Enid.

“Thank you,” Enid replied while she accepted the card, which had the word Ohana printed on the front and contact information on the back. “I love your hair, by the way. It’s really pretty.”

“Back at you, kiddo,” Freya winked.

Kiddo? Ugh, Enid literally just turned seventeen. She wasn’t an adult yet, but she wasn’t a kid anymore either.

Enid liked the blue streaks that went with her pink ones, but she had always wanted to try orange and pink because it was such a pretty combination, and looking at Freya confirmed that it was.

Freya put Isla down when she wriggled in her arms. “This is for you,” Freya said while she pulled an envelope out of her purse. “From my sister and my brother-in-law.”

Enid opened the envelope, revealing a birthday card with kittens on it and a rainbow wolf keychain. “I love it,” she smiled as she looked at the keychain, which would look great with her key to the Addams family home.

From the corner of her eye, Enid noticed Isla approaching Wednesday, entering her personal space. And not only was Isla getting too close to her roomie, who was pretty much allergic to people going near her, but Isla was sniffing Wednesday for some reason.

Isla stopped, and Enid thought she would walk away when she looked up at Wednesday glaring at her, like a bigger, meaner wolf cautioning her to tread carefully, but then Isla kicked Wednesday right below her knee.

“Isla,” Enid gasped while she hurried to get in between Isla and Wednesday, before Isla kicked Wednesday again, or worse.

“You taken my toys,” Isla pouted at Wednesday.

Oh, God, so that was why Isla was sniffing Wednesday. Isla must have picked up Wednesday’s scent after Wednesday broke into her room to get Enid’s stuffed animals back. Wolves could always smell it when someone with an unfamiliar scent had entered their space. Wednesday’s lovely fragrance was probably all over the woods in San Francisco that night.

“I did not take anything that belonged to you, little runt,” Wednesday said sharply, and she shouldn’t say runt because it was an insult to werewolves. “Kick me again and I will send you to the airport in a suitcase.”

“Behave,” Enid warned with a stern tone, holding up her index finger. “Both of you,” she added, because they both had alpha energy, and they needed a peacekeeper to keep them from fighting, although Wednesday was all threats without actually causing harm.

Wednesday glanced at Enid and, with a sigh, backed away from Isla, who stuck out her tongue at Wednesday.

“Isla,” Freya called out. “Let’s have a seat with the nice people who invited us here.”

Isla shook her head. “I sit with Enie,” she replied, wrapping her arms around Enid’s left leg.

“Of course you can sit with me,” Enid said, happy to sit between her favorite person and her favorite kid.

“I wish I had a minion,” Pugsley commented, looking at Isla. “Can we keep this one, Dad?” Pugsley asked, smiling like he was about to get ice cream.

“Back off, boy,” Freya warned with a soft growl, exposing her claws, which were long but oddly not as long as Enid’s had grown, and it was starting to freak her out a little bit. “You don’t want to get between a werewolf and her young,” Freya added, which was true because packs were very protective of the littlest children among them.

Enid looked at Freya’s claws, which were painted alternately pink and orange, matching the streaks in her hair. And Enid didn’t need to extend hers to know for sure that they were longer than Freya’s. Granted, not all wolves were exactly the same because some were either a little bit smaller or a little bit bigger during transition, but Enid had this unshakable feeling that something was different about her. She hadn’t transformed with other wolves around yet, and she didn’t bring any measuring tape or anything like that with her on the night that she did, but Enid could swear that she was bigger than the rest of her pack.

“Cool,” Pugsley grinned, staring at Freya’s claws. “Can I…,” Pugsley tapered off, grin dropping as Freya withdrew her claws before he could touch them.

Enid glanced at Wednesday, thinking how the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.

“Oh,” Pugsley said suddenly. “Happy birthday, Enid.”

“Thank you,” Enid replied, and the happy part was definitely true because her birthday was actually being celebrated.

After exchanging a few more pleasantries, they all sat down around the table, with Mrs. Addams, Mr. Addams, Pugsley, and Freya on one side and Wednesday, Thing, Isla, and Enid across from them. Enid noticed how Thing sat on the table with a piece of cake in front of him, and Enid didn’t know how that was supposed to work, but she liked that they cut him a piece, so nobody was left out.

Enid dug into her cake, which tasted like strawberries and chocolate, and she never had so much cake in one day before or even in one entire month, but she loved it. Wednesday gave her a great gift by baking a cake, making breakfast and getting Isla there to surprise her. Enid was really lucky to have a best friend like Wednesday, who had been super considerate lately.

“I went to Nevermore,” Freya told Wednesday’s parents, immersed in a conversation with them. “Up until I graduated two years ago, with my wife,” she added, which made her twenty-three, and right in between early to mid-twenties like Enid had guessed.

It was unfortunate that Freya wasn’t a few years younger because Enid would have liked to go to school at the same time as she did. Freya seemed like a cool wolf, who Enid easily would have gotten along with, while the Furs at Nevermore probably didn’t even want to interact with a late-bloomer like Enid. And on top of that, she had these weird symptoms that weren’t normal. Maybe she should ask Freya because she was so open and approachable, but Enid literally just met her today, and she didn’t want to ask in front of Wednesday’s family and Isla.

“Nevermore has been life-changing for us, too,” Mrs. Addams replied, smiling while she reached for her husband’s hand. “Isn’t that right, Mon Chéri?”

“You are never wrong, Querida,” Mr. Addams answered, kissing his wife’s knuckles.

“It is life-changing,” Freya agreed, nodding. “I look forward to sending my daughter to Nevermore someday.”

Enid almost choked on her cake because twenty-three was young to have a kid. Not necessarily by werewolf standards, but still, she was barely an adult. And while there was nothing wrong with Freya having a child, or as many as she wanted, Enid didn’t think she was the mom type, but rather the protective auntie type. Apparently, Enid thought wrong.

Mrs. Addams poured herself a glass from an unlabeled bottle, filling it to the brim with a reddish liquid. “How old is your little one?” she asked, raising her glass to her lips.

“My wife isn’t due until the end of the year,” Freya answered, holding up a hand when Mr. Addams offered her a glass of what Mrs. Addams was having. “Christmas, if she doesn’t go into labor too soon or too late,” Freya shared with a smile. “And in case any of you are wondering—”

“I am not,” Wednesday muttered, stabbing her purple frosted piece of cake with her fork.

Enid thought it was cute how grumpy Wednesday was, but she had no reason to be wary of Freya. She was a stranger, but Isla was clearly comfortable and familiar with Freya, and Enid had a good gut feeling about her. That Ohana up in Canada sounded perfect, and Enid hoped she would never need that card, but it was reassuring to have an alternative if she couldn’t live up to her family’s expectations.

“We used a donor,” Freya revealed, which made sense because a female wolf couldn’t impregnate someone.

“What line of work are you in?” Mr. Addams asked Freya.

“I’m an elementary teacher, but I would love to teach werewolf studies at Nevermore. The current curriculum is incomplete, and every young wolf deserves to learn all there is to know. You’d be surprised how much is hidden until you meet a community with dozens of lone wolves, sharing the experiences and the history of their former packs.”

Enid listened to Freya talk some more about her life and her dreams, and heard her ask Mr. and Mrs. Addams about theirs, but Enid ultimately got distracted by Wednesday dissecting her chosen piece of cake like a frog during biology.

“Hey,” Enid whispered to get her best friend’s attention, leaning slightly toward her but not too much. “What does the purple layer taste like?”

Wednesday prodded the frosting with her fork. “Poisonous berries,” she answered, but Enid doubted that Mr. Addams would serve a poisonous cake to his family and to their guests.

“You may try some if you wish,” Wednesday offered, nudging her plate a few inches closer to Enid.

Enid would like that, so she did. The flavor was indeed berries, like Wednesday had said. Bitter berries that were also a little bit sweet, kind of bittersweet, but not bad. Not as good as Enid’s cake, but decent. And definitely not toxic to eat because her taste buds would have caught that if it were.

“Do you want some of mine?” Enid asked, nudging her plate.  

“No,” Wednesday replied, pushing Enid’s plate back.  

“You know, you could be a pastry chef,” Enid commented, without exaggerating because the cake Wednesday baked – presumably before exploding the oven – was next level. “People would line up for a cake like this,” Enid added, because she absolutely would, if she could afford to.

“My creations are reserved for special occasions,” Wednesday stated, and Enid was happy to be that special to Wednesday.

It was mutual, of course. Wednesday was very special to Enid, too.

Isla climbed up on her chair and stretched out her arm, giggling as she stole a strawberry from Enid’s plate. Enid turned to Isla, smiling at the little thief, who was welcome to have a strawberry because it was just a strawberry, after all. So, Enid gave Isla another one of her strawberries, which were so sweet and good, like Isla when she wasn’t lashing out at someone.

“Stawbaby, please,” Isla asked, holding out her hand.

“Aw,” Enid replied, feeling her heart melt, and while she had to admit that there was some appeal to having a kid, she still wasn’t sure if she ever wanted one. “Here’s another strawberry,” she said, handing Isla not one but two more, earning the biggest smile.

A little while later, Enid was mid-bite of the gooey, chocolaty center that Wednesday had put into her cake, when Enid saw Wednesday fling some of the purple frosting on her piece of cake at Isla with a spoon. Seriously, right in front of Enid’s birthday cake? Did Wednesday think she wouldn’t notice it passing by her face?

Isla flicked some back at Wednesday, but missed because Wednesday dodged it at the last second.

Enid quietly scraped some of the pink frosting off her cake and flung it at Wednesday with fast reflexes and precision. When the frosting hit Wednesday square in the face, Isla giggled, and Enid wasn’t sorry because she had to do it. She had to defend the young; those were the rules of the pack, after all.

“You mess with Isla, you mess with me,” Enid warned with a smile.

Enid got so lost in Wednesday trying to remove the frosting from her nose that she didn’t see Pugsley throwing cake until she heard Isla squeal when the blue frosting hit her.

“Ahem,” Enid cleared her throat when she gathered as much as she could of what was thrown at Isla, so she didn’t have to waste more of her own delicious cake. “That goes for you, too,” Enid added, throwing it back at Pugsley.

Wednesday flung some cake at Pugsley, too, hitting him before he could wipe away the first counter-attack.

“I’m on your side,” Wednesday whispered to Enid. 

Enid smiled knowingly. “You just wanted to throw food at your brother.”

“True,” Wednesday admitted, and Enid could tell by the twinkle in Wednesday’s eyes that she was smiling on the inside. “But that doesn’t change my allegiance.”

“Okay, you can be on my team.”

“I had a friendship like yours once,” Freya spoke up across from Enid.

“Had?” Enid noted with a frown. “What happened?”

“Oh, we’re still together,” Freya answered, moving her fork around the slivers of cake on her plate, like she couldn’t pick which color of the rainbow she wanted and decided to try them all. “But nowadays, I call her my wife.”

Enid blinked. “You married your best friend?”

“Happily,” Freya revealed, and it was nice that she found what sounded like her true love.

Enid did hear that the best marriages were those between two people who were friends first. Yoko and Divina were best friends before they got together, and the odds pointed toward them getting married in the near future. Enid thought it was romantic and dreamy to be such good friends with someone and be able to turn that into a solid relationship, and she really hoped to meet a great guy one day so she could have a love like that, too.

Maybe the problem with Ajax was just about him not being a werewolf. Maybe that was why Enid subconsciously pushed him away rather than allowing her feelings to grow. 

“We have to leave,” Freya announced after everyone had had their fill of food, and Isla was no longer able to sit still and had started a thumb-wrestling match with Thing, who went easy on Isla and let her win.

Enid would have liked Isla to stay a little longer with her aunt, but she understood that they couldn’t stick around all day when they had a plane to catch, and were probably a bit tired from the journey they had made so far. Plus, Enid already got way more than she could have hoped for.

“I enjoyed coming out to celebrate your birthday,” Freya told Enid, who had enjoyed Freya coming out, too. “It was lovely to meet you in person, Enid. I wish you a lifetime of happiness.”

Enid smiled at the older wolf. “Thank you,” she replied, approaching Freya at the same time she approached her.

Freya tucked a lock of Enid’s hair behind her ear and smiled at her in a way that made Enid feel kind of fuzzy inside. “Your life is yours to color in, Enid,” Freya said while she lowered her hand. “Color it however you want,” she added, squeezing Enid’s arm.

“How about outside the lines?” Enid replied, chewing her lip.

“However you want,” Freya repeated, lifting Enid’s chin with the back of her index finger. And Enid hadn’t even realized that she had lowered her head until Freya raised it. “I reckon you’re an extraordinary girl.”

Enid’s eyes widened, wondering if Freya could tell that there was something different about her compared to other wolves.

“Hmm,” Freya hummed while she took a step back. “Here,” she said, pulling out a notepad and a pen from her purse, scribbling something onto the paper. “Call me or text me if you ever want to talk,” she added, tearing off the paper from her notepad and handing it to Enid.

“Will do,” Enid nodded. “Thanks.”

Freya scooped up Isla and headed toward the door.

“Bye, Enie!” Isla called out while she waved. “Bye, meanie!” she yelled, grinning at Wednesday.

Enid laughed at Isla referring to Wednesday as a meanie, which she was sometimes, except not to Enid as of late. But the louder Enid laughed, the less amused Wednesday looked.

***  

Enid retrieved her phone from Wednesday’s room, where Enid had left it because she was distracted. But it was fine because being on it during her birthday party would have been rude anyway. Yoko and Divina had texted her to wish her a happy birthday and tell Enid to have a good time, which she did, very much so.

There were two messages from her dad, one wishing her a happy birthday from her dad, her mom, and her brothers, and a second to let her know that he had put some money onto her card so she could buy something for herself. It was exactly what Enid had expected, but what she didn’t see coming was the last message she received.

Happy B-day, it read, followed by a fist-bump and a cake emoji.

Sent to Enid by Ajax, who apparently remembered her birthday, even though Enid had only mentioned it once in passing and didn’t think that he would. She smiled while she replied with a thank you, hoping that this could be the start of a potential friendship because Ajax was a good guy and Enid still liked him a lot, just not in a romantic way.

Enid looked up from her screen when she heard a knock on the door. “Um…,” she paused, tucking her phone into her pocket. “Who’s there?” she questioned while she approached the door, and she would have said ‘come in’, but this wasn’t her room, so it wasn’t up to her.

“I am,” Wednesday’s voice replied from the other side. “May I come in?”

“Of course, silly,” Enid smiled while she opened the door, greeted by her best friend. “It’s your room,” she pointed out, glancing down at the small wooden chest in Wednesday’s arms before looking up into her eyes. “You don’t need my permission to enter,” Enid added as she stepped aside so Wednesday could come in.

“I wasn’t certain if you were on the phone with someone or not,” Wednesday explained, and it was sweet that she didn’t want to disturb Enid, but Wednesday could never.

Wednesday was welcome to be there whenever Enid was on a call because there wasn’t anything that she didn’t want Wednesday to hear. Unless Yoko or Divina specifically requested to tell or ask Enid something that they didn’t want her roomie to know. But other than that, she was perfectly fine and comfortable with Wednesday walking in whenever she wanted to.

“This is for you,” Wednesday announced while she unlocked the chest. “I hope it’s…acceptable.”

More gifts? No way, Enid could have sworn that Wednesday baking things and flying Isla over as a surprise for her was her gift. A very nice, very big gift.

Enid lifted the top of the chest and saw that it wasn’t just one additional gift, but two. On the right, in the corner of the chest, was a square black velvet gift box, roughly the size of the palm of Enid’s hand. And on the left, taking up the rest of the space, was something wrapped in white, crumpled paper that Enid needed both of her hands for.

Enid reached for the biggest one first, not because it was the biggest but because she didn’t want Wednesday’s arms to get sore in case it was heavy. It turned out not to weigh that much, and when Enid unwrapped it, she discovered a collection of colorful hair dyes in bottles that were only labelled by color, without any mention of what brand they were.

“Each one is made with natural ingredients,” Wednesday shared, like she could hear the gears in Enid’s head working. “They are free of toxic chemicals and presumed to last longer,” Wednesday explained, which sounded nice. 

“Thank you, Wednesday,” Enid expressed, truly grateful because not only was it a good gift, it also meant that Wednesday had really listened to her when she ranted about her hair.

Enid liked her blonde locks, which Wednesday had recently called naturally beautiful and soft, but adding a splash of color was just who Enid was. She couldn’t wait to try out the hair dye that Wednesday got her, but for now, Enid put the bottles aside in her corner of Wednesday’s room.

When Enid turned back to Wednesday, the chest was at her feet, and the velvet box was in her hands. Wednesday opened it, presenting a gorgeous gold bracelet with crescent moon charms. Enid raised her right arm, holding out her wrist for Wednesday to put it on.

“I love it,” Enid told her best friend, who made her feel really special and loved today. Jewelry or no jewelry. “I’ll never take it off,” she vowed, smiling at how perfectly it fit around her wrist, almost like Wednesday took her measurements while she was sleeping.

“Except at night when I go to bed,” Enid added in an afterthought, not wanting to break the chain. “Or when there’s a full moon.”

Enid brought her arm close to her face, smiling as the light caught on one of the charms. She liked the wink at her werewolf nature and the fact that Wednesday probably went with gold, so it wouldn’t look anything like silver. But in all honesty, Wednesday could have given her a bracelet made out of shoelaces, and it still would have meant just as much to Enid.

“Your parents will probably guess that I’ve got this from you,” Enid realized, chewing her lip because there was no way she could afford jewelry, and she didn’t want to make up some elaborate lie that it was a gift from her family that Freya brought with her and gave her without anybody noticing.

“Let them,” Wednesday replied, smoothing out non-existent crinkles in her dress. “I do not care about what they think,” she claimed, which Enid doubted very much.

“Follow me,” Wednesday requested while she walked toward the door.

“Sure thing, roomie!”

Enid skipped after Wednesday, and she thought they were going to the Moonlit Manor to spend some time with their furbabies, but Wednesday kept walking, moving past every room and down the stairs. Enid followed Wednesday outside and frowned when she climbed the gate, which was very much locked.

“Are we allowed to do this?” Enid questioned as Wednesday swung her leg over the top of the gate.

“You can go wherever you please,” Wednesday replied while she climbed down with the agility of a cat, and she must have done this hundreds of times. “Are you coming or not?”

Enid pulled herself up the gate in three moves, climbed over to the other side, and jumped down from there. She landed upright next to Wednesday, a perk of her wolf genes, which gave Enid a few benefits even in her human form.

Wednesday smiled at her, and Enid’s heart somersaulted at the sight. She couldn’t get enough of this new development in their friendship, where Wednesday showed off her dimples and didn’t try to take it back.

They entered the woods next to the road together, and Enid felt her eyes adjust to the dark, allowing her to see everything from the sand beneath their feet to a squirrel running up a tree about a mile away. She followed Wednesday all the way out to what appeared to be a very steep slope, with broken-off trees here and there, and lots of rocks.

If Enid slipped, she could use her claws to brace herself and climb back up with a little bit of effort. And if Wednesday did, Enid would go after her, of course, so that Wednesday could hold on to her while she got both of them back to safety. But Wednesday was far too smart and calculated to make a mistake like that, so Enid wasn’t worried about the slope.

And while the view down was admittedly not the greatest, the sky full of stars above them was. Plus, it was peaceful and quiet, which made it really easy for Enid to hear Wednesday’s heartbeat, whose rhythm was a tad faster than usual, but nothing to worry about. Wednesday was most likely a little winded from climbing the gate and walking as far out as they had.

They sat side by side on the edge of the steep slope, kind of like Thelma and Louise but without the cliff and the car, and the tragic end. Enid slowly moved her head sideways, little by little, to avoid breaking the spell, until her cheek rested on top of Wednesday’s shoulder.

Enid bit her lip. “Is this okay?”

Wednesday tilted her head, leaning against Enid’s.

“You know…,” Enid exhaled while she gathered her thoughts. “Of all the gifts I’ve received in the past seventeen years, your friendship is my favorite. And I know you might push me down the slope for this, but there’s no place in the world I would rather want to be right now than here by your side.”

“May I have that in writing when I refuse to let you go?”

Enid smiled at Wednesday’s wish to spend their next break together as well, and speaking of wishes, now was the perfect time for one.

“Look, a falling star,” Enid said, pointing up at the sky. “We should make a wish.”

Enid had lots of stuff that she could wish for, but at this moment, what she wished for most was to be friends with Wednesday forever because Enid had never had someone like Wednesday before, and she couldn’t imagine a future without Wednesday in it. Plus, Enid liked Wednesday’s family and would love to be an Addams, even if it was just an honorary one.

Too bad that Wednesday didn’t have an eligible twin brother whose personality matched hers.

“I wish…,” Wednesday trailed off with a deep exhale. “I wish to celebrate every birthday with you.”

“You don’t need a falling star for that,” Enid beamed, holding out her pinky. “It’s you and me forever, Wens.”

Chapter Text

Wednesday leaned onto her tippy toes and grabbed her mug from the cupboard. She stifled a yawn while she opened the freezer and shuddered at the cool air dusting over her. Wednesday found it quite refreshing and lingered for a few seconds before reaching for the tray of small skull-shaped ice cubes, next to the bagged up roadkill her father preserved there, above the shelf filled with steak, and beneath the one with bags full of frozen strawberries.

It was a quarter past nine when Wednesday added four shots of espresso to her mug and drank half of it in the span of three seconds. She managed to burn her tongue in the process for not letting her coffee chill first, but what was life without a bit of pain to remind her that death was holding out on her for another day?

Staring at the remaining black liquid, Wednesday realized one would not suffice. She needed extra caffeine to pull her through the rest of this morning, though, unlike the night prior to last night, she managed to take more than a few ten-minute power naps. This time around, Wednesday was operating on four hours of sleep, give or take, which was neither a lot nor a little compared to her five to six hours of sleep a night average.

Wednesday inhaled the smell of her coffee, but found its rich woody aroma distorted by the lingering scent of smoke where the oven used to be. It was Pugsley’s fault for storing explosives in a large sack of flour, which misfired and hit the oven, thus ruining the two dozen cupcakes that Wednesday had put in there to bake, and raining flour all over her.

Two things were certain to happen by the end of this week. Number one: the oven would be replaced as if nothing ever happened. And number two: Wednesday would make her brother pay.

Not again, Wednesday groaned inwardly when her mother walked in.

What did Wednesday have to do to enjoy a quad over ice without her mother using it as an opportunity to corner her? Not to mention, they did this dance four days ago, and it did not end well. Unless her mother had made a decision and was here to share it with Wednesday.

“Hello, Mother,” Wednesday said while her fingers tightened around her mug. She straightened her shoulders and her spine and lifted her chin, ignoring the strain it placed on her body. “If you’re going to berate me for sneaking out last night and returning well past midnight, you should know that I have no regrets and am willing to accept whichever punishment you have in mind.”

As her mother was well aware, it was Enid’s birthday yesterday, which should grant Wednesday a pass for leaving without seeking her parents’ approval. What her mother didn’t know, however, was that if Enid wasn’t set on seeing Isla and fond of celebrations involving nauseatingly saccharine cake, Wednesday would have snuck out with Enid further than the woods. Perhaps as far as to the airport, to take a plane to any place Enid desired to visit, for however long it pleased them to stay there.

But birthday or not, the odds pointed to Wednesday not staying home for the remainder of her break regardless. She had to spread her wings eventually, to someplace suitable for Enid, which meant that a killer’s basement wasn’t an option. Plus, it wasn’t worth the risk to take Enid to confront a scalper with hair as soft and unique as hers.

Wednesday would rip out her braids with her bare hands before she let someone touch a hair on Enid’s head.

Her mother’s eyebrows creased together. “What makes you think I would give you a curfew during your vacation?” she responded in a rare display of being open to reason. “I know how fond you are of the dark, my little ra—darling,” she added while Wednesday waited for the other shoe to drop and stomp on her chest.

Wednesday took a sip from her coffee and eyed her mother circling her, looking down on her. Height difference, one might claim, but Wednesday knew the nature of her powers was the true reason why her mother was displeased with her.

“I have been talking to Larissa,” her mother announced, and of all the topics Wednesday would have guessed her mother to bring up, a dead principal wasn’t one of them. “She appeared to me,” her mother revealed, which was curious considering it wasn’t easy to bring forth a spirit, let alone one with no blood ties to their family.

Wednesday set her mug down on the counter. “How is that possible?” she asked, facing her mother.

“The stronger the bond with the deceased, the stronger their tether is to us,” her mother answered, putting her right hand on her chest.

Wednesday had no idea her mother was that close with Weems, given their complicated history regarding Weems’ jealousy of her mother’s popularity and relationship with her father. Therefore, Wednesday was under the impression that her mother and Weems disliked one another.

“You never forget your first roommate,” her mother exhaled, lips curling into a smile. “Or your first kiss.”

Wednesday’s eyes widened at the disturbing information. If her mother was involved with Weems once upon a time, then her disappointment toward Wednesday must have grown. She was the raven who had no vision of Weems dying, and therefore failed to see the danger that she put Weems in. Wednesday might as well have administered the poison herself.

“You kissed Weems?” Wednesday blurted out, and she had nowhere near enough coffee for this.

“Once or twice,” her mother confirmed with a nod. “But technically speaking, she wasn’t my first, unless we’re only counting girls,” she shared while she opened the refrigerator, grabbing one of the jars filled with pickle juice she kept around to drink.

Wednesday might need a new therapist by the end of her summer vacation, preferably one skilled in hypnosis and capable of erasing this memory by any means necessary. If her mother thought they could chit-chat about entanglements beyond what was considered platonic, she was sorely mistaken. Wednesday refused to bring up her first kiss, which was tainted with betrayal.

She would never make the grave error of kissing a boy ever again, no matter how hard they tried to tear down her defenses with displays of kindness and acts of service. Wednesday would rather be alone than be trapped with the wrong person in a courtship she never desired to begin with, and she would do everything within her power to keep Enid from suffering the same fate.

“Larissa told me what happened,” her mother revealed, as Wednesday had suspected from the minute her mother mentioned that Weems had appeared to her. “She said you fought Joseph Crackstone.”

“She wasn’t there during my fight,” Wednesday responded, considering Weems was preoccupied with being dead and waiting for someone to find her body and put it in the morgue.

“Spirits are always around us, Wednesday.”

Wednesday could not argue that they weren’t. “Did she tell you I failed her?” she pondered out loud, meeting her mother’s eyes despite her urge to leave and end this conversation at once.

Her mother shook her head and smiled. “She told me she’s proud of you for saving Nevermore,” she answered, bringing up the word that felt like an outright lie again. “We both are.”

Pride was hardly what Wednesday had earned for using Weems as a pawn in a fight that wasn’t hers. Wednesday had unintentionally sacrificed someone important to her mother, which begged the question whether her mother was in the kitchen right now to reminisce about a lost friend, or use Weems as an excuse to talk.

“How is your shoulder?” her mother asked, revealing that Weems was a snitch who was in cahoots with her mother.

“My shoulder is fine,” Wednesday responded with a slight bite, crossing her arms across her chest. “Now, if we’re done here, I have other things to do.”

Wednesday seized her mug and finished what was left of her quad over ice. She wanted a refill or two, but not if her mother intended to stick around. Wednesday could have done without her mother finding out that she got injured at school and kept it a secret, though the evidence had begun to scar.

“We need to talk,” her mother exhaled, as if that wasn’t what they had been doing for the past thirteen minutes. “Sit down,” she insisted while she pulled back two chairs, side by side.

Wednesday grabbed one of the chairs and moved it further away from the other one before complying with her mother’s demand, leaving more than an arm’s length between them. It was a necessary measurement to avoid touch and to bring herself closer to the door, should Wednesday need to leave.

“I have been thinking about my sister,” her mother started with a weary sigh as she sat down. “If she reaches out to you, I know I can’t stop you from speaking with her. I know that the stronger I forbid it, the harder you’ll oppose me.”

If this was an attempt at reverse psychology, it was a miserable one. Nothing could prevent Wednesday from seeking guidance from a relative who understood and shared her powers.

“There is something you must know about your Aunt Ophelia.”

“Get to the point, Mother,” Wednesday demanded, hating to keep Enid waiting for her when she would return by her side in a heartbeat if she could.  

“My sister told me that my firstborn child won’t reach her eighteenth winter, and that I should let my secondborn child die to prevent what’s coming. I asked her what she saw, but she refused to tell me. Ophelia didn’t believe that her visions could be prevented. She tried to save someone once, and when they died in an unfortunate accident, Ophelia was convinced that her visions were the future set in stone, rather than a way to see the path she or someone else was on.”

Dying within a year was a fate Wednesday did not oppose, though she disagreed with letting her brother die. Nobody was allowed to kill Pugsley, and anyone who tried to harm Wednesday’s pathetic, weakling of a brother would have to get through her first.

“Our visions are not premonitions of what will come to pass,” her mother claimed, and Wednesday believed that her mother was right. “They are glimpses of a future that can be, if we do nothing to alter the path.”

Wednesday cracked her knuckles. “I shall punch Pugsley and see whether that gives me the vision Ophelia saw or requires me to hit him again,” she offered, although she would punch him more than once anyway, for the humiliation he caused her when she ended up covered in flour.

“This is serious, Wednesday,” her mother responded, though no joke was spoken. “I cannot lose my children, which, according to Ophelia, I will,” she continued, and the raw emotion in her voice made Wednesday uncomfortable.

“She said I could have a third child I won’t have to outlive,” her mother shared a few seconds later.

Wednesday’s eyes widened. “Are you…?” she asked, glancing at her mother’s stomach.

Her mother shook her head. “I’m not pregnant,” she revealed, much to Wednesday’s relief, who had enough work taking care of one sibling, and didn’t need a helpless infant to protect.

“Your Aunt Ophelia doesn’t have your best interest at heart,” her mother insisted, stuck on that hill. “The only path she’ll guide you on is the one that leads to your death. You can’t trust her.”

Wednesday would be the judge of that, though a spirit guide did not equal trust. They were nothing but a means to an end. Unfortunately, her carelessness that made her turn her back on her enemy had cost her Goody, whose presence Wednesday wanted beyond convenience to help her with her powers.

Goody was on Wednesday’s side, and she needed a raven in her corner to understand what she went through. They were the same age, up until Wednesday’s next birthday, that was. And while she wasn’t quick to seek out friendship, she would have liked one with a kindred spirit.

“Mother,” Wednesday said while she thought about her only friend. “What did you see when you hugged Enid?”

“Hope,” her mother smiled, which was positive, though not as elaborate as Wednesday wanted to hear.

Wednesday figured that her mother chose to withhold any and all details of her vision to avoid altering the course that Enid was on. But Wednesday needed to know that Enid would be safe and happy.

“What happened to Ophelia?”

*** 

After spending well over an hour in the kitchen discussing Ophelia, Wednesday had learned that her aunt had collapsed due to overusing her powers and was declared brain-dead. According to Wednesday’s mother, her grandmama buried Ophelia in her garden, underneath her favorite flowers.

Wednesday wondered what her mother would do with her body if death collected her first. For her mother’s sake, Wednesday couldn’t let that happen. She didn’t want to see her mother broken by grief, even though Wednesday struggled to comprehend why her mother wouldn’t be happier without the daughter who didn’t turn out the way she had wanted her to.

On her way to the Echo Chamber, Wednesday passed her brother in the hall.  

Wednesday turned around. “I have a delivery for you,” she called out, watching as Pugsley stopped walking and faced her.

“A delivery? For me?” Pugsley grinned, eyes filled with glee. “What is it?”

Wednesday curled the fingers of her left hand toward her palm. “This,” she answered, punching her brother in the gut. 

Pugsley doubled over with a groan, but he was fine. Wednesday hadn’t used her dominant hand and didn’t aim for his ribs or his face.

“Love you too, sis,” Pugsley laughed as he recovered.

Wednesday’s jaw tightened at the implication that she loved her brother when the opposite was true. “Bite me,” Wednesday responded, resuming her walk.

When Wednesday neared the Echo Chamber, she heard music coming from inside. It wasn’t Thing playing his piano, and her mother was with her father, so it wasn’t either one of them either.

Wednesday pressed her ear against the door, picking up on the melody of one of those songs that Enid was obsessed with from the movie she claimed she was ‘dying to see.’

Little by little, Wednesday opened the door to remind Enid that she wanted to practice her cello for an hour, and therefore needed this room. But then Wednesday saw Enid dance, and all Wednesday could do was stand there and follow every movement, unable to look away.

Enid had told Wednesday that she used to dance when she was little but stopped when she no longer felt happy, and traded her dancing shoes for chores that her mother wanted Enid to learn for her future husband. Was Enid happy here, with Wednesday? Genuinely happy?

Wednesday’s heart lurched in her chest when Enid giggled while she spun around in circles until she lost her balance and fell unceremoniously onto the floor, landing on her ankle.

“Enid,” Wednesday gasped, rushing to Enid’s side. 

Enid looked up and smiled. “Howdy, roomie,” she grinned, accepting the hand Wednesday held out.

Wednesday pulled Enid up and didn’t pick up on any signs of pain when Enid put pressure on her ankle. Wolf genes, of course, though Enid was tough regardless.

“Were you watching me dance?” Enid asked, which made Wednesday realize she hadn’t knocked.

“I can leave,” Wednesday responded while she let go of Enid’s hand.

“No,” Enid said, catching Wednesday’s wrist. “Stay,” Enid insisted as she released her grip. “Please?”

“As you wish,” Wednesday relented, earning the smile that unraveled her so.

Enid took a few steps back while her smile didn’t waver. “Do you want to dance with me?” she asked, and it was tempting to give in to every request Enid made, but Wednesday couldn’t let her control slip that easily. 

Despite the urge to please Enid, Wednesday shook her head. “I’ll save it for our school dance,” she offered, to meet Enid in the middle.

“Oh! Speaking of the school dance, maybe we should do a dance routine.”

Wednesday would rather put pins and needles in her eyes than be in the spotlight in front of their peers. This was not a compromise she could provide, though she would dance with Enid among everyone else. Perhaps a ballroom dance, where Wednesday could take the lead and let Enid shine with every twirl. It would involve a significant amount of physical contact, but for Enid, Wednesday could tolerate the temporary public display of such an intimate embrace. 

“By the way,” Enid spoke up while she paused her music. “I hope you don’t mind that I took our kids,” she shared, though Wednesday wasn’t aware that she had, and didn’t spot them on Enid’s person.

“They’re over here,” Enid continued a beat later, gesturing at a tiny knitted bag on top of the piano. “Here,” she repeated, waving Wednesday closer.

Wednesday stared at the small black knitted thing, which had a white heart in the middle. Nyx and Erebus were tucked inside, fast asleep and cozy, kept warm by the wool.

“I knitted this pouch for our kids while you were gone,” Enid revealed, chewing her lip. “Do you like it?”

“It’s perfect,” Wednesday assured, wishing that Enid wouldn’t second-guess herself around her.

Enid’s insecurities were misplaced, for she was perfect the way she was. Wednesday would rather swallow an entire bottle of allergy pills every day to be near Enid than change a single thing about her.

“Enid.”

“Yes, Wednesday?”

“Watching you dance is pleasant.”

“I feel the same way watching you play cello.”

“Very well,” Wednesday said as she approached her chair. “Do you have any requests?”

“Wait,” Enid gasped behind her. “Are you serious? You’re going to play while I dance?”

Wednesday positioned her cello between her legs, smiling when she saw Enid bouncing on her toes, and Wednesday would play any song as often as Enid wanted her to, even if the repetitive motion made Wednesday’s fingers bleed.

“Ugh,” Enid groaned. “Your smile is killing me.”

Funny, considering it was the other way around.

***  

Wednesday stared at her ceiling as she waited for sleep to take her, but despite the slight ache in her bones, she couldn’t bring herself to close her eyes yet. Her mind was wide awake, replaying today’s events like a movie she snuck in to see. The middle was Wednesday’s favorite part, where she witnessed Enid dance, unbridled and free from the expectations placed onto her shoulders.

Enid would never be happy with a life among people seeking to snuff out her light. Wednesday would die before letting Esther Sinclair hurt Enid again, and while Wednesday had not breached the topic of wanting Enid to stay beyond this break with her mother yet, Wednesday intended to do so eventually. Thankfully, her mother had taken a liking to Enid. That much was obvious when she gifted Enid that necklace yesterday.

Wednesday uncrossed her arms and turned over onto her side, staring at the pillows she meticulously realigned every day. It was quiet on the half she had loaned to Enid for the remainder of their summer break, although Wednesday had not informed Enid yet that their arrangement no longer needed to be temporary. Wednesday’s parents were equally unaware, and she preferred to keep it that way for now, to avoid another conversation with her mother. 

Wednesday propped herself up on her elbow and leaned up high enough to look over the pillows. Enid was facing her way, as usual, sleeping on her left side, in a fetal position. Her hair was a bit ruffled from the tossing and turning she did before settling down, with one lock tickling her nose. Wednesday considered reaching out to fix it for Enid, but then her eyes fluttered open as if sensing Wednesday’s presence.

Enid smiled, and Wednesday’s heart thudded in her chest. Why was she the recipient of that smile every day?

“Hello from the other side,” Enid said in a melodic type of way.

Wednesday rolled her eyes. “Ridiculous,” she exhaled, seizing the pillow at the top of the straight line that kept them from being able to look at one another when lying down.

Wednesday threw the pillow at Enid, whose reflexes were as smooth as that pretty face of hers.

“I’m keeping this,” Enid announced, though that was precisely the point, so she could place it behind her back or hold it while she slept. “It’s my pillow now.”

“Is that so?” Wednesday commented, smiling at the thief who stole one of her nightgowns and didn’t stop there.

“Yup,” Enid answered, popping the ‘p’, and the sound should annoy Wednesday, but Enid’s voice was never a nuisance to hear. “I’d put it in my suitcase, but I don’t think there’s room for a fluffy pillow, even if you didn’t put the Codex Umbar…Codex Umbrary…um Codex something,” Enid trailed off, alerting Wednesday that she had found Goody’s book.

“I don’t remember the name,” Enid said a beat later. “But I’m talking about that creepy book that you put in there. Because your scent is all over it and nobody ever enters your room, so I know it’s yours.”

“Codex Umbrarüm,” Wednesday revealed in a whisper. “It’s Goody’s book of Shadows.”

“And why is it in my suitcase exactly?”

“For safekeeping,” Wednesday answered, and while she didn’t plan on Enid finding out that she put it there, Wednesday trusted Enid with her life.

“Oh, okay,” Enid exhaled, smiling. “I can do that,” she declared while she sat up. “Mi suitcase es tu suitcase,” she added with a ridiculous wink.

Wednesday found it endearing how Enid mixed a bit of Spanish in her words. Enid’s pronunciation was admittedly impeccable for an amateur who barely understood a word of Spanish, as though she had been practicing some basics.

“Just promise me that you won’t put a spell on me,” Enid commented with an airy chuckle.

Wednesday sat up, mirroring her friend. “I am unable to promise you that,” she responded, considering she might need her book to protect Enid.

“That’s not fair,” Enid huffed before smiling. “You’re charming enough without using magic.”

Wednesday blinked. “You think I’m charming?”

“Oh, I don’t think so. I know so.”

“Your knowledge is incorrect.”

“U-huh, sure it is,” Enid whispered while her smile reached her eyes. “Taking me outside to look at a sky full of stars isn’t charming at all.”

Chapter Text

Enid opened the two bottles of hair dye that she grabbed, making sure she got the right color combination instead of something like purple and red. Those would blend kind of nicely, too, but Enid preferred to stick with her favorite color, pink, and she wanted to trade the blue streaks in her hair for orange ones to try out something new.

“Thanks for giving me a hand with this, Thing,” Enid said while she put the bottles on Thing’s sink, and Enid couldn’t get over the fact that Thing had his own bathroom, too.

Enid didn’t know which room Wednesday’s parents were going to assign as her guest room to stay in, but Enid knew that once her room was finished, it would be insane, filled with luxuries she never had back in San Francisco. Enid loved the idea of a bathroom she didn’t have to share with four brothers who always left the toilet seat up, but she was just as happy to stay in Wednesday’s room.

Happier even, if Enid was being honest, because she liked the routine she had with Wednesday. So, no matter how much Wednesday’s parents would adjust a room to match Enid’s taste, her main preference would always be Wednesday. Maybe someday, Wednesday would allow more color into her room, and let Enid sleep in something pink rather than black or white pajamas only, but it was fine if Wednesday refused to budge.

Enid was comfortable sleeping in anything, as long as she got to sleep with Wednesday. Going back to Nevermore and sleeping in separate beds again would be such a bummer, but at least they would still be roommates. And if Wednesday joined her to visit Yoko during their winter break, Enid was sure that Yoko would let them share a bed.

“Glove me,” Thing signed, pointing at a disposable black glove.

“Right, good idea,” Enid replied, nodding as she helped him. “Do you have another one, um, two, for me?” Enid asked, and they usually came included with the hair dye, but these ones didn’t come in boxes.

“In the closet behind the mirror above the sink.”

Once Enid was all gloved up and got a towel and a washcloth, she got to work with her pink hair dye while Thing handled the streaks that she wanted orange. Enid could have asked Wednesday to help her, but she knew how much Wednesday disliked color in her room, and she was busy training outside. Plus, Enid hadn’t spent a lot of time with Thing yet.

“So, what are you up to today?” Enid asked her wonderful assistant.

Thing’s fingers moved. “I’m going to paint a family portrait.”

“I didn’t know you could paint,” Enid gasped, though she wasn’t surprised that Thing was an artist because all sensitive souls were in one way or another, like Wednesday was with music, and how Enid loved to dance.

“If I had known you were going to change your hair, I would have bought orange paint when I replenished my supplies, but I can mix yellow and red to make orange,” Thing said, moving his fingers kind of fast, but Enid was learning to keep up with Thing, who was quite the talker when he wanted to be. “I want my painting to be accurate down to the last detail, unless you prefer I don’t include the last traces of your wounds. That part I’ll leave up to you.”

“Wait, you want to paint me?” Enid replied when she finished translating everything, and the pieces clicked in her head. “But I’m not an Addams,” she pointed out, frowning at being included in a family portrait of a family she would love to be a part of but wasn’t.

Thing shrugged and signed, “You are to me.”

“Aw, Thing, you’ll always be my second favorite Addams,” Enid exhaled, smiling while she put a hand on her chest. “And you would be my number one, but you know how I feel about Wednesday.”

“I do, but do you?”

Thing’s fingers moved so quickly that Enid wasn’t sure if she understood him right, because why wouldn’t she know? Wednesday was her best friend. Enid had said so out loud more than once, and Thing was the main witness of how they started out as two strangers sharing a room to becoming friends to becoming besties who were now sharing a bed.

When Enid’s hair was done, she checked it out in Thing’s mirror. The colors were so vibrant, just like Enid had wanted, and she loved how well the orange dye matched the pink. Enid couldn’t wait to show Wednesday her brand new look and prove just how happy she was with her gift. But first, Enid needed to snap a picture to add to her gallery and maybe post later.

Enid took a selfie and sent it to Yoko and Divina, asking them what they thought of her hair. Maybe they would be surprised that she didn’t go with pink and blue, as usual, but Enid wasn’t the same person she was two weeks ago. Ever since she wolfed out, things had started to change, for better and maybe for worse. Unless there was some logical, non-scary explanation for why Enid had sharper teeth and bigger claws than other werewolves.

Within a minute of sending her picture to her friends, Enid’s screen lit up with Divina’s name.

Loving these colors on you, sweetie oxo, Divina’s text read, and Enid was about to reply when she got another message.

Cute, Yoko’s text read, followed by another saying, orange and pink suits you xx.

Enid agreed with her friends, and while she had liked the pink and blue combination she had gone with since she was twelve, she thought this style was nice and refreshing. Plus, her hair would go really well with her favorite sweater, which was pink and orange, too! And while Elle Woods wouldn’t agree that orange was pretty much the new pink, it definitely was because orange was totally in right now.

“I’m going outside and see if Wednesday is done training yet,” Enid announced. “And if you want to include my scars in your painting, you can,” she decided with a slight smile and a nod. “I’m not ashamed of them anymore.”

Those black stitches all over Enid’s cheek and neck freaked her out at first, but now that her wounds had healed and turned into pink scars, she realized her face didn’t look as bad as she originally thought. Besides, Wednesday thought she was beautiful, and she wouldn’t lie about a compliment.

Enid skipped on her way out, softly humming along to the song stuck in her head that Wednesday was learning to play on her cello just for Enid. And Wednesday dared to claim that she wasn’t charming!

Please, Prince Charming had nothing on Wednesday.

Enid entered the garden, smiling when she spotted her best friend taking off a dummy’s head with the sharp edge of her sword. Wednesday sure knew how to move, and she would no doubt take that fencing title home after the next tournament.

“Howdy, roomie,” Enid called out, waving at Wednesday while she approached her. “So, um, I dyed my hair,” Enid said, shaking her curls a little.

Wednesday tossed her sword aside. “So you did,” she replied, looking up at Enid’s hair.

“Do you like it?”

“It’s…,” Wednesday paused, gaze lowering until their eyes met. “Different.”

Enid chewed her lip and wrung her hands together. “Good different?” she asked, because different could mean a lot of things, and she had hoped for an answer along the lines of yes or no.

Preferably yes, of course, because Enid didn’t want her best friend to dislike the way she looked. She valued Wednesday’s opinion, and while Enid would never ever change her appearance for someone else, it would hurt her feelings if Wednesday hated what she did to her hair.

Wednesday glanced up at Enid’s hair for a second. “Are you thinking of joining Freya’s cult?” Wednesday questioned, and the dimples forming in her cheeks gave away her smile.

Oh, God, Enid did go with the same colors Freya had in her hair, but only because Enid had wanted to try this combination for ages. And seeing it on another person proved how pretty they blended together. This was not some kind of attempt to copy Freya, like the way that Isla had copied Enid.

“It’s not a cult,” Enid replied with a light chuckle while she stopped wringing her hands. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

“The latter is accurate,” Wednesday stated, but both parts of what Enid had said were true.

“Are you going to catch me if I run?”

“Yes,” Wednesday answered, and it sure was hot outside because Enid was s w e a t i n g all of a sudden. “I will always catch you, Enid,” Wednesday added, saying it like it was a promise.

Enid pictured Wednesday wrapping her arms around her and refusing to let go. Enid would like a long hug like that, specifically from Wednesday, who fit so well into Enid’s arms and smelled super nice and used the perfect amount of pressure because her hugs were neither too soft nor too tight. Enid could hug Wednesday every morning and every night if she let her, and several times during the day. And not just because she really liked hugs, but because Enid really liked Wednesday.

Wednesday was cute and pretty and kind and charming, no matter how much she tried to deny that she was all of the above and more. And despite her gothic look and gloomy view of life, which was so different from Enid’s, they fit perfectly together. Their friendship was unlike any other, with a special kind of closeness and connection that only happened once in a lifetime.

Enid could see herself growing old with Wednesday, sitting on those swings at Wednesday’s playground a decade from now, and the decade after that. Enid pictured the two of them gazing at the stars together and making wishes on those that fell, even though Enid didn’t need a falling star as long as she had Wednesday by her side.

When Wednesday’s right hand neared Enid’s face out of the blue, her breath hitched. Wednesday must have noticed because her hand froze mid-air, but she hadn’t done anything wrong, and her gesture, whatever it was, wasn’t unwelcome or unwanted.

“Sorry, I was daydreaming,” Enid exhaled, smiling as she took half a step closer to Wednesday, leaving a few inches between them. “About the future,” Enid explained, glancing at her best friend’s hand. “The one that I’d like to have with you.”

Wednesday slowly but surely moved her hand. “Describe it to me,” she requested, running her fingertips through Enid’s hair.

“Oh, um…,” Enid swallowed. “I wasn’t expecting you to say that.”

“What did you expect?”

“Your eyes are really intense,” Enid commented, which was kind of off-topic but also not because Wednesday was right in front of her, and Enid couldn’t think about anything else right now. “It’s like you’re reaching into my soul.”

“I have that effect on people,” Wednesday replied while she dropped her hand. “Though I’m not the only one.”

Wait what?

***   

Enid looked at the piece of paper with Freya’s number scribbled on it in black ink and typed it into her phone, adding Freya to her contacts. After hesitating for a few seconds, Enid decided to put an orange heart behind Freya’s name because the color orange reminded her of Freya, who deserved a heart emoji for her kindness.

“I should send her a text so she’ll have my number, too,” Enid whispered to herself, but she wasn’t sure what to say yet beyond ‘hey,’ and she didn’t want Freya to think that something was wrong when everything was fine.

Well, not everything everything because there were things that Enid couldn’t explain, but she didn’t want to get into any of that just yet, if at all.

Maybe Freya was just being nice and not interested in Enid texting her all willy-nilly with a bunch of small talk. Freya was an adult – a young one, but still very much an adult – with a wife and a baby on the way. She probably didn’t have time to entertain a teenager she had only met once, beyond emergencies. Although Freya did give Enid her personal number, on top of the card with contact information of the community she was in.

Enid shook her head and decided to call Yoko first before texting Freya something along the lines of ‘hello, this is Enid,’ but better.

It took a couple of rings for Yoko to pick up, which meant she no longer had the auto-accept calls function on. And yet, Enid still felt like she caught Yoko at a bad time because Yoko was wearing nothing but a pair of black leggings with a matching bra.

“Hey, Boo,” Yoko smiled at the camera. “Don’t mind our outfits. My air conditioner broke, and it’s hot as hell in here.”

“Hey, sweetie,” Divina spoke up, appearing beside Yoko in red lingerie and a black blouse that wasn’t buttoned at all.

“Whoa,” Enid whispered, and she didn’t mean to stare, but her friends were so pretty. “Hot – howdy,” she coughed, and she knew they were beautiful, but this was unreal.

Enid wondered what Wednesday looked like when she was half-undressed, but quickly abandoned that thought because it was really inappropriate, and Enid didn’t know why she was thinking about that to begin with. Okay, no, she did know. Wednesday was the most beautiful girl she had ever met, so obviously, Enid was a little bit curious.

“Wait,” Enid frowned when she spotted a suitcase next to Yoko’s bed. “Are you guys going somewhere?”

“We’re leaving this weekend to go to LA,” Yoko answered. “I’ll be staying at Divina’s place for a while.”

“My parents are gone for the summer,” Divina shared, which seemed odd if they knew that Divina wasn’t going to be gone all summer. “And Kent gets bored when I’m not there to play Mario Kart with him.”

Enid’s eyes widened. “Your parents seriously left without you?”

“They’ve been traveling without us since we were fourteen,” Divina answered, which was even worse because it sounded like neglect. “But they always stock the fridge and the freezer, and leave us a bunch of cash to order food and tip for delivery.”

Enid guessed that wasn’t so bad then, but it didn’t seem right either. On the other hand, Enid wouldn’t mind at all if her parents decided to travel without her and left her alone for a whole summer. But only if they took her brothers with them, because she didn’t have the sibling relationship that Divina had with Kent.

“Enough about us,” Yoko said. “What’s new with you? Aside from your hair.”

“Okay, so…I really want to tell you guys some things, but you have to swear not to tell anyone.”

Enid knew she could trust Yoko, and by extension Divina as well, but Enid needed them to promise that they wouldn’t tell a soul because it was super important. Word about Freya’s community could not get out for the safety of the outcasts who lived there, and Wednesday would kill Enid if she found out what Enid was about to tell Yoko and Divina.

But Enid would combust if she had to keep everything a secret. She needed her friends to know how sweet and charming Wednesday was, and how much of a mask her serial killer vibes really were. Enid wanted to talk about the incredible birthday she had, without having to keep quiet about any of the details.

“My lips are sealed,” Yoko replied, locking them with an invisible key. “Cross my heart,” she added, smiling while she moved her index finger across Divina’s chest.

“Ugh,” Divina groaned, grasping Yoko’s hand with hers, intertwining their fingers. “The things you do to me,” Divina said while she leaned closer to Yoko.

Enid smiled when Yoko and Divina kissed, and Enid wished she had what they had. And she could have had that with Ajax, but that electrifying spark Enid saw between her friends just wasn’t there for her with Ajax, no matter how much she had wanted it to. He wasn’t the one, and maybe the one for her wasn’t at Nevermore, if there even was such a thing as one person who would completely sweep her off her feet and prove that soulmates were real and not some romantic fantasy she had made up in her head.

*** 

“You know…Friday nights are perfect for movies,” Enid said as soon as they had their pajamas on, and after two weeks of not watching a single movie together – never, if she counted back all the way to the day they met, though not for a lack of suggesting it – she would like a movie night, even if it was just one.

“Not to bribe you,” Enid continued, smiling as her best friend’s eyes shifted toward her. “But if you watch a movie with me tonight, I’ll do whatever you want to do all weekend.”

Enid hoped that Wednesday wouldn’t use the opportunity to take out that creepy Ouija Board and disturb some spirits, but she could if that was what she wanted to do this weekend. On the condition that Wednesday watched a movie with Enid, and maybe agreed with her afterward that movie nights were nice and relaxing.

“I am not susceptible to bribery,” Wednesday replied while she took one of those weird vitamins she kept in her drawer out of the bottle, which was as good as full now when it was nearly empty a couple of days ago. “I do, however, accept your deal.”

“Um…,” Enid gulped, tucking her hair behind her ears. “Why does it feel like I just sold my soul to the devil?”

“Welcome to the dark side,” Wednesday grinned, and Enid couldn’t deal with how cute Wednesday looked because her grin showed off her dimples, as if Enid needed the extra evidence that Wednesday was the prettiest girl she had ever met.

“Okay, Anakin Skywalker,” Enid chuckled, and there better be cookies because a movie night wasn’t complete without snacks. But on second thought, there was no way that Wednesday would allow her to eat in her bed and get crumbs everywhere.

Wednesday’s grin disappeared. “Am I supposed to know that name?”

“Darth Vader?” Enid answered, waiting to see a sign of recognition. “Star Wars?” she prompted, gasping when Wednesday frowned. “Oh, my God, how can you reference the dark side and not know this?” Enid exclaimed, and if she had any Star Wars movies saved onto her laptop, she would show Wednesday, but she didn’t.

Enid only had about two dozen movies, and unfortunately, Thelma & Louise wasn’t one of them either. Nor was K-pop Demon Hunters, but that one only came out recently, and Enid didn’t have the account needed to watch the movie. And she highly doubted that Wednesday’s family did because Enid hadn’t seen a single television or laptop inside the house, or even a tablet.

“I am an Addams and a raven,” Wednesday commented. “How much darker can my side get?”

“I guess that’s fair,” Enid admitted with a nod. “But I see so much more than that when I look at you.”

“I’ll set up my laptop,” Enid blurted out before Wednesday asked for another description she couldn’t provide, like what Enid was daydreaming about this afternoon.

It was kind of TMI, or at least she guessed it would be in Wednesday’s book.

Wednesday realigned her pillows, freeing up half of the row, which was good enough to make space for Enid’s laptop while leaving room to stretch their legs. When Wednesday climbed underneath the sheets, Enid did the same from the other side.

“This feels kind of like a sleepover,” Enid said while she scooted toward the middle. “I mean a real sleepover, with friends and snacks and a movie,” she explained when she felt Wednesday staring at her.

“You may eat in the hall if you wish to have a snack,” Wednesday replied, and yeah, Enid figured that her roomie wouldn’t allow food in her room.

“I can’t wait for the sleepover I’ve been invited to,” Enid exhaled, realizing a second later how bad that might have sounded, like she didn’t want to be here when really, there was no other place in the world she would rather be right now.

“Not that this isn’t good because it is,” Enid added as quickly as she could. “And I don’t need snacks because I have you.”

Nope, that came out even worse. Enid did not mean to compare Wednesday to a snack, but it sounded like she did, and Enid really wished she could reach one of those pillows right now so she could bury her face in it and maybe scream a little, or a lot.

“Which movie do you have in mind?” Wednesday asked, and she was a literal saint right now for sparing Enid from embarrassing herself further.

Enid glanced at the space between them, which was big enough to fit another person. “Can I sit closer?” she questioned, gesturing at the gap. “If that’s okay.”

“I won’t bite if you sit next to me, Enid.”

Inch by inch, Enid moved closer, smiling when Wednesday met her in the middle. Enid thought about putting her head on Wednesday’s shoulder again, like she did two nights ago on the edge of that slope in the woods, but Enid didn’t want to push her luck or Wednesday’s boundaries too much, so she didn’t.

Enid chose to watch Scream, figuring that Wednesday would enjoy people getting stabbed more than watching Elle Woods slay in court – and outside of court with the looks she kept serving. Plus, the cast of Scream was great and got even better in the movies that came out after the first one. And as far as scary movies went, this one wasn’t too bad, and Enid knew where all of the jump scares were, so she didn’t need a hand to hold or a blanket to hide under.

Holding hands would be nice, though. Especially Wednesday’s hand, whose pulse thrumming beneath her skin helped Enid feel calm whenever she felt nervous. Not to mention the soothing touch of Wednesday’s cold skin against Enid’s always warm one. But again, boundaries.

Wednesday looked away several times throughout the movie, mostly to look at Enid, who was watching Wednesday more than the movie because she wanted to see her reaction. Enid had no idea what Wednesday was thinking, but she did notice her paying attention to every murder scene like she was making mental notes about what she would do differently.

“Oh,” Enid whispered when her stomach growled, which it shouldn’t after the three bowls of spaghetti she had devoured for dinner. “I guess I am kind of hungry,” she realized with a deep sigh.

One corner of Wednesday’s mouth curled up. “Cannibalism is frowned upon, Enid.”

“You’re terrible,” Enid smiled, shaking her head at her roomie. And just because she accidentally compared Wednesday to a snack didn’t mean that Enid was thinking of eating her. “You know, you shouldn’t poke a predator,” she warned, though this time, Wednesday didn’t get under her skin enough to let her claws slip.

A pillow fight, on the other hand, was definitely in the cards tonight if Wednesday didn’t stop teasing her.

“Like this?” Wednesday replied, poking Enid’s side with the tip of her finger.

Enid couldn’t believe that Wednesday Addams, of all people, literally just poked her.

“I’m going to go get a snack before you tempt me to bite you,” Enid huffed, and she could start that pillow fight, but she didn’t want to use too much strength by mistake and shove Wednesday out of her bed.

“I shall accompany you,” Wednesday offered, but she didn’t have to because Enid knew the way, thanks to Wednesday. “It would be most unpleasant if you were to encounter explosives.”

“Explosives in the kitchen? Sure,” Enid chuckled at the excuse to tag along.

Enid shut down her laptop and put it aside, considering the movie was nearly finished anyway, and both of them were too distracted to keep watching until the end. She needed to eat something, or else her stomach would continue to growl throughout the night, and there was no way either one of them could sleep through that.

When they reached the kitchen, Enid was happy to find out that not all of the leftovers of Mrs. Addams’ spaghetti had been served to Chompie. There was a large container in the refrigerator, with a post-it note that said “spaghetti”, with a little heart above the “i”. Enid wondered if Mrs. Addams put it there just for her, knowing that she would be back for more.

While Enid ate a bowl of spaghetti, licking her fork after every bite, Wednesday sipped from a glass that was half water and half ice cubes. Enid shuddered at the condensation forming around the glass, touching Wednesday’s fingers. But Wednesday didn’t move other than to raise the glass to her lips, all the while staring at Enid without blinking.

“Mhmm,” Enid hummed while she gathered the last remnants of the sauce with her finger, and she would never do that in the dining room, but it was just the two of them in the kitchen right now.

Wednesday blinked when Enid sucked her finger clean, and she knew she probably looked like a messy eater with little to no manners, but that sauce was hands down the best one Enid ever had, and using her finger seemed better than licking the bowl clean.

“Shall I heat you another portion?” Wednesday asked, reaching for the cupboard she could barely reach.

“No, I’m full now,” Enid answered, putting her dishes in the sink. “Can we go back to bed?”

When they got back to Wednesday’s bedroom, Enid smiled when Wednesday removed the pillows from the row one by one until none were left. And this time, Wednesday didn’t put them back in the order that she liked. Instead, she put them away in her closet.

Hallelujah, after thirteen nights of sharing a bed with Wednesday, she finally removed the barrier between them. Enid had waited a long time for this to happen, and it took a little bit longer than she would have guessed, but the important part was that the pillows were gone.

“Good night, Wens,” Enid hummed.

“Night, Enid.”

Chapter Text

Wednesday refolded two pairs of black leggings, a black dress with white polka dots, a pair of warm black sweatpants with a matching fuzzy black sweater in case it got cold, her Memento Mori t-shirt, a plain white t-shirt with long sleeves, and black satin pajama pants with a black blouse. She folded them into neat squares and divided them into two stacks before placing everything in the smallest suitcase she had, along with the rest of the items she needed for the weekend.

Her allergy pills, in particular, were an absolute necessity to survive this outing, as was her allergy cream. Wednesday would not fare well if she neglected to pack those, and therefore checked twice as she tucked both between her clothes. Skipping a single dose could cause her flesh to peel off her bones, with the amount of exposure she had made herself vulnerable to.

When Wednesday touched Enid’s hair the other day, she had hoped the natural origin of the dye would elude her allergy. Alas, Wednesday’s experiment turned out not to be the loophole she sought, for it resulted in a horrible itch less than an hour later. The delayed reaction to the trigger of her deadly intolerance, however, was a step in the right direction, and Wednesday would not rest until she overcame her weakness, so she could be around the one person whose presence she valued.   

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to pack,” Enid said after stomping a quarter of her wardrobe into the suitcase loaned to her, so her pink one could remain underneath the bed. “Can you at least give me a clue where we’re going?”

“You want a clue? Very well,” Wednesday responded, and if she could go back in time, she would spare the chaotic little wolf the hassle of packing by doing it for her again. “An outfit or two shall suffice.”

“Wednesday! This is a serious matter. Do not poke me right now.”

Wednesday’s eyes widened at the glare Enid gave her, paired with the sharp tone in her voice. Enid had teeth, and it was fascinating how short of a fuse she had when she decided to stand up for herself. Wednesday wished that Enid would do so more often, especially at school, where others took Enid for granted and failed to give her the respect a wolf like her deserved.

“We are going camping,” Wednesday divulged, to help Enid with her ridiculous wardrobe emergency.

“OMG, really?” Enid gasped, and there was that smile that did wicked things to Wednesday’s insides again. “I love camping,” Enid exclaimed while she grabbed an outfit from her rack and stuffed it into her suitcase, hanger and all. “The woodsy environment, the bonfires, the marshmallows roasted above said fire, the—”

“By we, I mean all of us,” Wednesday clarified to temper her friend’s exuberance. “Except for Thing, who shall remain home.”

“Wait,” Enid blinked and frowned. “Why isn’t Thing coming with us?”

“He volunteered to stay to feed our pets, though I assume he intends to raid my father’s liquor cabinet.”

“Ooh!” Enid bounced on her heels. “I should go and say bye to them.”

“Take as long as you need,” Wednesday nodded, welcoming the idea of peaceful silence before being stuck inside the car for an hour with her parents, her brother, and Enid.

Perhaps Wednesday should pack a bottle of Aspirin, but with her family around, some headaches were impossible to get rid of. Fortunately, Wednesday had her own personal tent, which she intended to set up as far away from them as her mother allowed.

“Actually…,” Enid said as she pushed the corners of something pink hanging over the edge of her suitcase into her suitcase. “I’m going to finish packing first because your eye has been twitching since I started, and if I leave you alone in here, you’ll probably repack my stuff.”

“You put a hanger inside of your suitcase,” Wednesday commented while she zipped up hers. “A hanger, Enid,” she reiterated, which was only one of the several reasons why Wednesday should lend Enid a hand.

Enid shrugged. “Maybe I want to hang something up on a tree.”

Wednesday could point out that people generally used ropes for that, but she decided to hold her tongue. If Enid wanted a hanger, she could have a hanger. Those roasted marshmallows she had mentioned, however, were not included in this trip. If Wednesday had known beforehand that Enid enjoyed those sticky sweets, Wednesday would have purchased a couple of bags.

“I’m taking Elli with me,” Enid announced, hugging her arms around her stuffed pink elephant.

Wonderful, more colors to trigger Wednesday’s allergy. Perhaps Enid ought to sleep outside of Wednesday’s tent rather than in it with her.

Wednesday noticed Enid chewing her lip while she pulled her phone out of her pocket. “Your mother?” Wednesday guessed, and that woman was getting on her nerves unlike any other person in the world.

“Fortunately, no,” Enid exhaled, smiling for a brief moment as she glanced at her screen before looking up. “I don’t have to text my mom more than once a week, and I guess there isn’t really anything left for her to throw out anyway,” she explained, shrugging a shoulder.

“Unless…,” Enid added a heartbeat later. “Unless the next thing she wants gone is me.”

“I want you,” Wednesday said, and the same went for her family, for only an Addams was given a key to their mansion.

I will always want you, little wolf, Wednesday thought as she considered initiating physical contact in the form of a hug.

“Thanks, Wens,” Enid responded, eyes sparkling like the reflection of the sun on the surface of the water of the lake they were going to. “I honestly don’t know what I would do without you.”

Enid put her pink elephant into her suitcase and chuckled at her phone as she responded to someone.

“I’m texting Freya,” Enid shared, which was surprising, though not unexpected, considering her immediate admiration of the other wolf.

Would Enid have pursued Freya if her heart did not belong to another? Or Yoko, whose relationship with Divina could be fleeting and bound to end?

“She just sent me a picture of Isla,” Enid chuckled, shaking her head at her phone. “Her face is covered in the ice cream she had for breakfast.”

“Look,” Enid insisted, holding out her phone for Wednesday to see.

Wednesday glanced at the picture, showing Freya and Isla smiling at the camera, with chocolate smeared all over Isla’s cheeks and chin, and Freya hugging her. Based on the happiness Enid showed regarding Isla, Wednesday wondered if Enid wanted children of her own.

“I’m going to put my phone in my suitcase to spare the battery,” Enid said while she hid it under a bundle of outfits. “Wouldn’t want to be unreachable for an entire weekend.”

“Yes, forty-eight hours without a cellular device would be the end of the world.”

“I mean…kind of? Because that’s a lot of hours and I want to text Yoko at least once a day.”

Wednesday grabbed her suitcase and yanked it off her bed, biting her tongue as it landed on her foot.

“Meet me outside in ten minutes,” Wednesday said while she lifted her suitcase.

“Are you not going to say bye to our kids with me?” Enid called out after her, closing her suitcase and pressing the top down with her elbow. “Oops,” she grimaced when something inside cracked. “I think I broke my hanger.”

That was unfortunate. Wednesday would have preferred Enid to break her phone.

***  

Wednesday sat across from her parents with Enid by her side, while Pugsley had claimed the seat in the front. They barely made it past the gate when Enid began to fidget with her hair, which she kept loose since she redyed her pink locks and exchanged her blue ones for orange ones. Wednesday still combed it for her in the morning, of course, considering Enid enjoyed it when she did.

Only time would tell, however, whether the gestures Wednesday made to keep Enid happy were enough for Enid to stay by her side of her own volition. Enid did mention she dreamed of a future with Wednesday, which was not a statement she took lightly, for it sounded like a promise.

Enid dropped her hand into her lap, squeezing her other hand as she bounced her leg. Wednesday found it difficult to concentrate on anything else, watching Enid struggle with an inner turmoil she could not silence for her. It bothered Wednesday how she wanted to help but couldn’t, due to her parents observing her. And while she only had to endure this confinement for roughly forty minutes, give or take a few, Wednesday couldn’t bear seeing Enid suffer for another minute.

“We should take the scenic route,” Wednesday spoke up when an idea occurred to her. “Why stare at trees when we could look upon the carnage of wrecked cars of those who missed a turn?”

“Excellent suggestion, my little bombita,” her father responded, rubbing his hands together while he smiled. “I heard the pass has gotten narrower after the landslide.”

“We’re going to Skull Road?” Pugsley exclaimed, and Wednesday could hear the smile in her brother’s voice as he took the bait hook, line, and sinker the way their father had, too.

“Only if the vote is unanimous,” Wednesday’s mother said, putting a metaphorical fork in the road. “It’s up to Enid.”

“Think about all the skeletons we’ll get to see!” Pugsley shared, well-intended but clueless. “Real skeletons. With rotting flesh, if we’re lucky!”

Yes, and if Wednesday was lucky, Lurch would hit the brakes after speeding and send Pugsley headfirst through the windshield.

“Um…,” Enid turned and looked at Wednesday. “Sure,” Enid answered, nodding. “Let’s take the scenic route.”

Good, Wednesday thought as they changed direction, putting her plan into motion.

When Lurch made the first of several sharp turns to avoid going over the edge, Wednesday lost her balance and stumbled against Enid. Wednesday used her hand to steady herself, placing it on Enid’s leg right above her knee, squeezing before letting go. It all happened in such a rush that when Wednesday righted herself, her parents were still fumbling to sit up, though their kiss indicated they weren’t in a hurry to do so.  

By the time they arrived at their destination, Enid had long ceased her jittery movements.

Wednesday wove her way past the trees, following those marked with a knife by her family years ago when her father purchased the land. Initially, it was their hunting ground, but the animals had fled as quickly as misguided tourists had. The lake was equally empty after Pugsley’s bombs killed all of the fish. One of the explosives he threw into the water had yet to detonate, however.

“Do not leave the trail,” Wednesday cautioned Enid when she heard her jogging to catch up with her. “These woods are infested with traps,” Wednesday explained as she picked up her pace to put more distance between them and her family.

“Stay by your side, got it,” Enid responded, arm brushing against Wednesday’s.

Wednesday sighed at the contact, though it was plausible that the uneven ground beneath them as they began their descent, where the trees declined, had made Enid lean toward her rather than remain straight.

“So, um, do you come here often?” Enid asked, brushing her hair behind her ears. “You seem to know this place well.”

Before Wednesday could answer, the air was knocked out of her lungs as Enid shoved her back against a tree with enough force to bruise. Wednesday struggled to catch her breath so she could scold Enid for the hand pressing against her sternum, but then Enid caught a spear mid-air with her other hand and snapped it in half.

“Okay, I take back what I said,” Enid shuddered while she backed up a step and looked around. “Are you sure you know where we’re going?”

Wednesday stared at the broken arrow. “Enid,” she whispered, eyes widening as she admired her friend’s reflexes. “That was marvelous. Your speed, your precision, your—”

“Wens,” Enid interrupted with an exhale. “I don’t think you can come any closer without moving both of us off of this supposed safe trail.”

Now that Enid mentioned it, Wednesday had indeed invaded Enid’s personal space entirely.

“You had no issue pushing me earlier, Enid,” Wednesday remarked, arching a brow.

“Oh, so you want me to push you,” Enid responded with a blinding smile. “I think I was being a little rough, though,” she added, smile slipping until it was gone completely.

“I enjoyed that part,” Wednesday admitted, and she was not that fragile.

“Yeah…that only makes one of us,” Enid lowered her head, sighing as her forehead rested against Wednesday’s due to their proximity. “I don’t want to hurt you, Wednesday. You’re the most important person in my life, and it would kill me if I caused you any pain.”

Wednesday physically reeled back at the sentiment and the sudden awareness that they weren’t the only two people around. Soon, her parents and her brother would walk the same path they had, and Wednesday preferred not to be caught in such a compromising position.

Enid chewed her lip. “Do you want to be alone for a while?” she asked, fidgeting with the hem of her t-shirt.

“No, stay,” Wednesday answered, resisting the urge to reach out. “There could be more stray arrows.”

“And?” Enid prompted, smiling while they resumed their hike through the woods.

“And nothing,” Wednesday responded, keeping a closer eye on their surroundings. “Shut up, Enid.”

Enid chuckled but remained silent otherwise, like a good, obedient little wolf, though Wednesday wouldn’t oppose being defied by her. Enid was welcome to challenge her and push her in places others weren’t allowed to enter.

After walking to the end of the trail, they reached the clearing that stretched for a few miles in front of the lake. There were bushes with roses and thorns around the edges, marking how far they could go before risking stepping on a landmine. In the center of the clearing was a circle of tree stumps, around the cauldron Wednesday and her family had neglected to carry back uphill last year when a blizzard drove them home.

“Ooh, such a gorgeous lake,” Enid exclaimed while she neared the deck in quick strides. “I’m definitely going for a swim today,” she announced as Wednesday followed her toward the water. “Will you join me when I do?” Enid asked while she turned around, facing Wednesday.

“Swimming is tedious when there is nothing in the water to chase me,” Wednesday answered, and she had not packed her bathing suit.

Enid bit back a smile. “Will a wolf do?”

Wednesday frowned when Enid circled her, gasping when Enid pushed her off the deck, without warning. Wednesday’s back connected with the surface of the lake, arms flailing by her side as she tried to find her bearings. While going under, Wednesday managed to take a breath before her head disappeared underwater.

The abrupt drop in temperature sent a chill throughout Wednesday’s body as she allowed the water to immerse her deeper. Wednesday felt the scar on her abdomen ache, but the pain was minimal and bound to pass. Plus, Enid wasn’t aware of the kidney transplant Wednesday underwent three years ago.

Wednesday was about to close her eyes and drift for a minute when an arm wrapped around her waist. She froze at the touch, and then a warm, familiar body pressed against hers.

“I’m sorry,” Enid blurted out when they emerged together. “I thought you could swim, but you didn’t come up for air, so maybe you can’t swim at all.”

“I was not drowning,” Wednesday responded as she wriggled free from her friend’s grasp, who didn’t need to save her this time.

Wednesday moved her hand across the water, creating a ripple to splash Enid with.

Enid shrieked before countering with a wave of her own. Only, hers was significantly bigger, raining over Wednesday the way a shower would.

“I know what you did, by the way,” Enid said while Wednesday swept her braids over her shoulders.

“You’ll have to be more specific than that, Enid.”

“That thing you did in the car. Suggesting that road with all of those twists and turns.”

“I did it for the view,” Wednesday claimed, though she couldn’t care less about which road they used to reach their destination.

Enid chuckled. “The view you weren’t even looking at?”

Wednesday splashed more water at Enid, choosing not to comment further. Wednesday knew what her motives were and owed no explanation for doing what she did. Enid needed a comforting touch to ground her, and Wednesday found a loophole to provide one.

“I know what you are, Wednesday,” Enid exhaled, and the warmth of her breath reminded Wednesday of how close they once again were.

“What am I, according to you?”

“My soul friend,” Enid declared, which was the most ridiculous thing Wednesday had ever heard Enid say.  

Wednesday and Enid were not soul friends, for her soul could not be tied to another in any capacity, whether it be romantic or platonic. Furthermore, Wednesday did not believe in such sentimental terms to describe a connection between two people.

“The water is a bit chilly, but nice,” Enid said, changing the topic to a tolerable one. “Are you warm enough, though?” she questioned at the same second Wednesday failed to suppress a shiver.

“You can hold on to me if you’re not,” Enid offered with an insufferably kind smile. “I’ll keep you nice and toasty.”

“I am fine, Enid.”

“I’m right here if you change your mind.”

Wednesday wouldn’t. Not now. Not ever. No matter how much Enid tempted her to lower her walls.

*** 

When Wednesday joined the campfire her family had started, her clothes and her braids were still dripping from the water she had absorbed in the lake. The same went for Enid, who was soaked from head to toe as well. Wednesday saw her mother staring at both of them, and it wasn’t long before her father and her brother turned their way, too.

“I slipped,” Wednesday claimed as she warmed her hands by the fire, ignoring the sting as cold turned to heat.

“And Enid?” Pugsley asked, gesturing at the cheeky wolf who pushed Wednesday into the lake.

“She slipped, too,” Wednesday answered, lowering her arms before she burned her fingers. “The deck is quite oily this summer.”

Wednesday’s mother smiled. “Is that right?” she commented, as though she had witnessed something she shouldn’t have or assumed that Wednesday was the cause of their predicament.

“Actually…,” Enid cleared her throat. “It is, yeah. Very, um…oily. Like Wednesday said.”

Wednesday chose one of the tree trunks on the opposite side of the fire to sit, masking her mother’s inquisitive face behind the flames, along with the secretive glances her mother and her father shared with each other.

Enid smiled softly at Wednesday as she picked the tree trunk less than two feet away from hers, though Wednesday couldn’t fault Enid for not sitting next to her mother or her brother.

“I made soup,” Wednesday’s mother announced, approaching with a mug made out of stainless steel, and it wasn’t lost on Wednesday how Enid flinched at the sight of the silver-colored mug for a fleeting moment before her shoulders relaxed.

Wednesday accepted the mug from her mother when it was handed to her, and peered at the black liquid inside. It was squid ink soup, Wednesday’s favorite, though it had been a while since she drank it last. She inhaled the fishy aroma of the sea and took a sip. The spices hit her tongue, leaving a delicious burn, and Wednesday wondered if this was her mother’s attempt at a peace offering.

“Enid, dear,” Wednesday’s mother said with an overly sweet smile. “I believe the soup may be far too spicy for you,” Wednesday’s mother assumed correctly, considering Enid’s sensitivity toward spices. “Would you like a cup of hot cocoa instead?”

“Yes, please,” Enid answered, licking her lips.

“How about marshmallows?” Wednesday’s mother prompted. “I thought a sweet tooth like you might appreciate those at our campfire, so I bought a few bags to roast.”

Wednesday stared at her mother, making an effort to provide treats for Enid, and it caught Wednesday off guard how her mother kept noticing details and implemented them. For example, Enid’s favorite drink, which Wednesday’s mother made for Enid every morning. Perhaps there was hope for Wednesday and her mother to get along after all, on the condition that she continued to extend kindness toward Enid.

“I would love to roast marshmallows!” Enid exclaimed as her face lit up with pure, unfiltered joy. “Thank you, Mrs. Addams. That’s really considerate of you.”

“Don’t mention it, dear,” Wednesday’s mother responded, brushing Enid’s cheek with the back of her fingers. “Anything for my daughter’s friend,” Wednesday’s mother added, winking at Wednesday.

“Best friend,” Wednesday corrected, inwardly grimacing at the sheer volume Enid expelled when she squealed. “And a minor nuisance,” Wednesday tacked on now that she might have permanent damage in one ear.

“I couldn’t hear you after you said best friend,” Enid claimed, smiling while she shrugged.  

Wednesday took another sip from her soup, and another, frowning when her mother approached her with a black blanket by the time her mug was half empty.

“Take this,” Wednesday’s mother said, draping the blanket over Wednesday’s shoulders. “I won’t have you catching pneumonia,” her mother explained, though that was quite a stretch.

The water was not freezing, and that was not how pneumonia worked. Wednesday didn’t need a blanket to keep her warm when she was sitting in front of an open fire. This overbearing gesture and nauseating attempt at coddling her as though she were an infant could lead to heatstroke, which was a type of torment that Wednesday would rather not endure.

Wednesday’s mother retrieved another black blanket and wrapped it around Enid.

“Oh, wolves don’t…,” Enid tapered off with a smile. “Thanks, Mrs. Addams,” she hummed, hugging the blanket closer around herself, burying her nose in the fabric with a soft purr.

Wednesday felt her heart palpitate in her chest, faster than her normal resting rate. A rapid heartbeat was one of the symptoms of heatstroke, as was intense thirst, which she appeared to be suffering from, too. Wednesday could use a refreshing cup of ice water to get rid of the sudden dryness in her mouth.

“You look a little flushed,” Enid commented, pointing out another sign that Wednesday was unwell.

Wednesday frowned at the smile on Enid’s face, as though her torment was somehow amusing. Enid had brought this upon Wednesday by pushing her into the lake, which was a bold move for someone as squeamish as Enid.

“I am going to get you, Enid,” Wednesday whispered for Enid’s ears only as the crackle of the fire masked her vow.

“That’s going to be hard,” Enid commented, though Wednesday was confident in her skills. “You know,” Enid continued, leaning closer, “seeing how you already have me.”

Chapter Text

Enid stared at the small black tent with faded grey, sort of brownish horizontal stripes, shaped like a long pointy hat with an opening at the bottom in the middle. It kind of looked like a tiny circus tent, but for the Grim Reaper rather than a clown or an acrobat. Not that it was creepy or anything, because it was cute and perfectly Wednesday, and Enid was happy she got to sleep with Wednesday again, no matter how or where.

Especially after she pushed Wednesday into the lake, but in Enid’s defense, it was a little bit Wednesday’s fault for wanting Enid to push her – not in the lake, specifically, but in general. Still, she shouldn’t have done that because she didn’t want Wednesday to get sick, and Enid had no idea what was in the water, if anything. Plus, Wednesday got injured by an arrow barely two weeks ago. Thankfully, Enid was able to prevent that from happening again.

At least some good things came out of her finally transforming into a werewolf, Enid guessed. So, she wasn’t a total freak among freaks, although she didn’t think that Wednesday would ever cast her out for being different. And maybe those side effects that Enid experienced were temporary, like a blood moon only type of thing that others hadn’t warned her about. And maybe it was different for every werewolf. Freya’s claws weren’t as long as Enid’s, but maybe her fur was longer, or maybe her teeth were sharper.

“I, uh,” Enid cleared her throat, watching as Wednesday took off one of her boots before reaching to take off the other, spilling some water onto the black plastic layer covering the ground. “I’ll give you some privacy,” Enid decided when her roomie – tentie? – peeled back her grey socks, which were absolutely soaked, and Enid had to remind herself that Wednesday was naturally pale as she exposed a little bit more skin.

“Take as long as you need to strip off your wet clothes and fix your braids,” Enid said while she reached for the flap of the tent, able to wait because her natural body heat had dried her clothes for the most part anyway.

“Don’t wander too far,” Wednesday replied, though Enid wasn’t going to walk around the woods at all.

“I’ll be right outside,” Enid assured with a smile, ready to scare off bears or other possible wild animals hiding in the dark. And while there was no full moon tonight to help her, she could still extend her claws and growl to make it clear that this was her territory.

“Call me if you need help with anything,” Enid offered on her way out, hoping that maybe she’d get to comb Wednesday’s hair.

Although Wednesday made it very clear she didn’t want anyone to touch her braids, so if she actually swallowed her stubbornness to ask for help, it probably wouldn’t be for that. Not that Enid was one to talk when she had this huge thing that she needed to get off her chest, and while Wednesday wasn’t a werewolf who could relate or understand what Enid was going through, Wednesday was her best friend.

Enid knew she could trust Wednesday, beyond a shadow of a doubt. It was more than a gut feeling, and today proved that when Enid agreed to take a dangerous road, because deep down, she knew Wednesday would keep her safe. And comforted, apparently, which Wednesday had gotten a lot better at doing the past two weeks.

Enid puffed out her chest when she heard a noise in the distance, but it was just Mr. Addams stumbling against his tent and blaming it on being drunkenly in love with Mrs. Addams. Enid thought it was sweet how enchanted they were with each other, like their love was something out of a fairytale. But when the excessive smacking started, Enid tuned out of that part of the woods and listened for the sound of Wednesday’s heartbeat.

“Here with you, I can finally breathe,” Enid sang quietly, sticking to a whisper-like volume. “You say you’re no good, but you’re good for me.”

So good, Enid thought, smiling at how Wednesday treated her like she loved her, even more than Yoko and Divina did.

“Enid,” Wednesday called out. “You may enter.”

“You don’t have to wait outside,” Enid frowned when Wednesday stepped out in nothing but her nightgown. Wednesday wasn’t even wearing any shoes, let alone socks to cover her feet. “You can turn your back to me or close your eyes,” Enid suggested, realizing she could have done that, too, but it was a little late for that now.

Wednesday would have to stay in Enid’s personal space while she got changed, though, unless Wednesday preferred to sit on top of her sleeping bag to have three feet between them instead of one. Enid was good with either, although she would have to be very careful not to elbow Wednesday if she decided to stand that close to her.

Enid stared at Wednesday’s braids while she got changed, admiring the precision of her fingers and how she hadn’t missed a single lock. But she looked cute with messy hair, too. Cuter, even, to be honest. When Wednesday shuddered against Enid’s breath on her neck, she tried not to exhale too deeply, although it was a strange reaction considering Enid’s breath wasn’t the least bit cold.

“You can turn around now,” Enid announced once she was wearing her pajamas.

Wednesday spun slowly, raising a brow as she did. “You are wearing my nightgown,” she commented, which was true, but at the same time, it wasn’t. Not anymore, at least.

“I’d like to extend my loan,” Enid replied, preferring to keep it indefinitely.

Wednesday’s lips split into a beautiful smile. “Extension granted,” she agreed, which, in Enid’s opinion, counted as a verbal contract, stipulating that said nightgown was now, and forevermore, officially hers.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” Enid winked, earning the added bonus of getting to see Wednesday’s dimples when her smile brightened.

Enid wanted to slide her arms around Wednesday’s waist and pull her in for a nice, long hug, but Enid didn’t. She kept her hands to herself, resisting her daily – sometimes hourly – urge while hoping that Wednesday felt the same and felt it enough to act on it so Enid could, too.

Unfortunately, no such luck tonight. Instead, Wednesday wordlessly climbed into her sleeping bag, so Enid hurried to get into hers, happy to be sharing a tent and spending another night near her favorite person.

Enid scooted as close as she could, though they were pretty much side by side already. Minus the sleeping-bag-shaped barrier between them, but sharing one wasn’t an option because they were far too snug for that. Thankfully, it was summer, so she didn’t have to worry about Wednesday getting cold. But Enid would trade the best season for winter in an instant if it meant she got to hold Wednesday in her arms.

“You look like a burrito,” Enid chuckled quietly at Wednesday, all rolled up in her sleeping bag.

“Am I making you hungry?”

“Kind of, yeah,” Enid admitted, biting her lip while she thought about eating something. “But I’m always a little bit hungry.”

The mystery meat Mr. Addams roasted for dinner did fill Enid’s stomach, though. It tasted very smoky, but that was probably because of the fire, and the tender texture of the meat really made up for that. Enid just hoped she didn’t eat a baby deer or a cub or some other small, innocent forest creature that wasn’t even fully grown yet. It was bad enough that she was a carnivore by nature, especially in her werewolf form, like all werewolves were.

At least that part of Enid’s experience felt relatable to what she had heard and learned from other outcasts like her.

“Hey, Wens,” Enid whispered, wriggling in her sleeping bag until she managed to get her arms out without having to zip it open. “Do you remember that blood moon two weeks ago?”

Wednesday’s tongue clicked against the roof of her mouth. “Vividly,” she answered, and of course, she wouldn’t forget any details of that night.

“Forget I brought it up,” Enid exhaled, though that was easier said than done because she knew how much Wednesday had been obsessing about what happened and wanted a do-over. “It’s probably nothing anyway,” Enid added, although it didn’t feel like nothing.

“Who hurt you?” Wednesday asked, unzipping her sleeping bag. “Give me a name and—”

“No, no,” Enid interjected, staring at the dagger clutched in Wednesday’s right hand, which she was apparently sleeping with. What the heck? “It’s not that,” Enid assured Wednesday before she skipped off to threaten to bodily harm someone face to face, and maybe stab them in a non-lethal way.  

“It’s the moon,” Enid shared, pausing for a few seconds to breathe. “I…I think it did something. To me, I mean.”

Wednesday lowered her dagger. “Elaborate.”

“You won’t tell anyone, right?” Enid checked, and she trusted her best friend, but some reassurance would be nice. “It’s just… this is really private and serious, and I don’t want others to know yet. But you’re special.”

“Consider me your vault.”

***

“No, no, no,” Enid groaned, holding up her phone. “Ugh! There’s, like, zero cell reception here!”

Enid hadn’t texted Yoko since yesterday morning, and she meant to message her later that day so she could ask if she had a safe trip to LA with Divina, but Enid didn’t think about her phone until an hour ago when she woke up. Freya was probably wondering why she hadn’t heard anything from Enid anymore either, and she hadn’t even told her that she was going camping.

Or anyone, actually, now that Enid thought about it, because Wednesday sprung it on her at the last minute. Enid did like surprises, though. And it wasn’t like she went into the woods with a potential killer. Just a cutie with a killer smile and a penchant for threatening people. As far as real danger went – sneaky traps aside, which couldn’t bypass her instinct to sense stuff – Enid was probably the most dangerous thing in these woods.

“Don’t move,” Wednesday said suddenly. “There’s a spider in your hair.”

Enid’s eyes widened at the word spider.

“Ew, ew, ew, get it out!” Enid shrieked, nearly dropping her phone when her palms started sweating.

Why did it have to be a spider? Why not a butterfly or a ladybug? Or a leaf?

“Why are you smiling?” Enid noticed with a gasp.

Wednesday took a step closer, which was one step too little to reach out. “I’m not smiling,” she claimed while her eyes twinkled like Christmas lights in the dark, bright and beautiful.

“Maybe your lips aren’t, but your eyes are,” Enid pointed out with a huff, and as much as she enjoyed the view, now was not the time for smiles. “It’s like you’ve seen a puppy.”

“A helpless one, yes,” Wednesday replied, closing the gap between them.

Enid was not a puppy! Sweet? Sure, especially around people she liked. Loyal? Absolutely, without a doubt. Cute? Possibly, if others perceived her in that way. But helpless? Nu-uh! Enid just really didn’t like creepy crawlies, and she couldn’t believe that there currently was one of those on her, in her hair, no less.

Wednesday raised her right arm, fingertips stilling in the air between them.

“Wens?” Enid whispered, seeing the twinkle in Wednesday’s eyes fade away. “Is something wrong?” Enid questioned, chewing her lip while she tried not to think about the spider, but the more she tried not to, the more she did. “Can you get it out for me?”

“Oh my God,” Enid gasped a second later, eyes round. “Is it a poisonous spider?”

Wednesday shook her head and reached out, fingertips brushing Enid’s hair. But if the spider wasn’t poisonous, then why was Wednesday’s heart beating faster? And why did she hesitate when Wednesday was always so confident and smooth? Enid had obviously given Wednesday permission to help when she told her to get it out, hadn’t she? So, why did Wednesday freeze?

Enid shuddered, shaken from her thoughts when Wednesday took a step back with a spider crawling between her fingers. It was an itsy-bitsy black spider, smaller than a fingernail, but still creepy.

“Fire,” Enid announced, sniffing the air. “And I want to say eggs? But not the sunny-side-up or scrambled kind,” she guessed, smelling a bunch of spices like pepper and mustard seeds overpowering the eggy aroma.

“Deviled eggs,” Wednesday said while she put the spider down on the ground. “Grandmama’s recipe.”

“So…this preference for spicy food runs in your family?”

“Your nose is impressive,” Wednesday replied, but it wasn’t that big of a deal, and the distance between them and the fire probably wasn’t all that much. “Does it ever overwhelm you?”

“Maybe sometimes,” Enid admitted, though it hadn’t been too bad after that dreadful night, where she smelled so much blood it was like she was choking on it. “But lately only in a good way, like the scent of you lingering in your clothes when you loan them to me.”

“Is my scent that appealing to you?”

“It is,” Enid nodded, and maybe that was weird, but it was the truth. “Speaking of scents,” she backtracked when she finally got enough reception for her messages to start pouring in, along with the photos her friends and Freya sent her. “How did you know which stuffed animals were mine when you broke into Isla’s room when hers are in there, too?”

Wednesday’s cheeks flushed, just like they did last night, tinging a soft shade of pink.

“You’re familiar with my scent, aren’t you?” Enid guessed, which was the only logical explanation.

Wednesday’s jaw tensed. “And this is relevant how, exactly?”

Enid bit back a chuckle, but if Wednesday was going to put up her walls, then it was better not to poke her. The last thing Enid wanted was for Wednesday to default to her factory settings and distance herself, just when they were building a genuine connection that kept getting stronger.

Enid sent a few texts to Yoko and Divina, letting them know she was currently in the middle of somewhere, camping with Wednesday, Wednesday’s parents, and Wednesday’s brother. Enid also told them about the tent, smiling when Yoko messaged her, “and they were tentmates,” to which Enid replied that they sure were.

For one more night, at least, because after tonight, they would be roommates again. But Enid liked being in Wednesday’s room a whole lot more than being in a tent. Camping was great, but Enid barely had any space to move her limbs, and she couldn’t see more of Wednesday than her head poking out of her sleeping bag.

Enid frowned when Wednesday walked back to their tent rather than toward the fire, but maybe she forgot something important. Thankfully, that something didn’t turn out to be a knife, although Enid suspected Wednesday had one tucked into her right boot already.

Wednesday rummaged through her suitcase and retrieved that strange bottle of pills. She shook two of them out onto her palm and swallowed them, and Enid had a feeling those weren’t actually vitamins like she thought at first. But if they weren’t, then what the heck did Wednesday keep taking every day like her life depended on it?

“What are those?” Enid asked when Wednesday put the bottle back into her suitcase.

Wednesday closed the zipper and looked up. “Umbra mushroom pills.”

That didn’t really answer Enid’s question, but she didn’t want to pry in case Wednesday wasn’t comfortable with telling her. Wednesday simply wasn’t the open-book type, which was fine. Enid was there to listen to Wednesday talk about anything, but she didn’t have to tell Enid everything. Only the things Wednesday wanted her to know. And just because Enid shared something personal didn’t mean that Wednesday had to do the same.

Wednesday walked out of the tent, arm brushing against Enid’s as she did. “We should reach the campfire in an hour if we maintain a brisk pace,” Wednesday announced as she kept moving.

“Wait,” Enid frowned while she followed. “Are we really that far out?”

It didn’t seem like an hour last night when she followed Wednesday to her tent. And if they had to keep a fast pace, then it meant they were easily four miles away from the fire. What the heck? Werewolves couldn’t smell things past a two-mile reach, and that was only in peak circumstances, pending heavily on the intensity of the scent and the direction of the wind. It literally said that in Enid’s book on werewolf anatomy 101 – the same book every student at Nevermore received as part of their curriculum to learn the basics of every outcast.

Or at least the ones that weren’t extinct or banned, which weren’t included, even though Enid felt like they should be. Just because some types of outcasts didn’t exist anymore didn’t mean that the memory of them shouldn’t, and maybe not all of them really did cease to exist. Maybe there was a group of Yetis somewhere, minding their own business. As for the one that was banned, it would have been extremely helpful to learn about Hydes rather than having to figure it out in the heat of the fight.

“What’s up with your t-shirt?” Enid wondered out loud, staring at the black shirt which had a giant skull in the center. “Memento Mori,” she read underneath the skull, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Or however you’re supposed to pronounce that.”

“Memento Mori means remember you must die,” Wednesday revealed, and of course, it was something dark. The skull kind of gave that away already. “It’s a reminder that our time on this plane of existence is limited and must not be wasted.”

“Do you think you’re wasting your time spending the summer with me?” Enid asked, and as soon as she did, she realized how stupid her question sounded. “I mean, you must have had different plans before you decided to abduct me, right? And I know how meticulous you are and how you plan stuff like a step-by-step tutorial, but you can’t tell me that wasn’t spontaneous and not at all what you had in mind for the past two weeks and the eight more yet to come.”

“Enid,” Wednesday said with a soft sigh. “A day with you by my side, if only for a minute, can never be a waste of my time.”

Enid’s heart melted at the major affection she received from her best friend, and it took every ounce of willpower she had not to pull Wednesday into a bone-crushing hug.

***  

The sky had turned into a black canvas dotted with stars, as breathtaking as the light of the fire reflecting in Wednesday’s eyes. A soft breeze blew between the trees, keeping the flames alive as the wood burned. Enid pushed another marshmallow onto her stick and held it closer to the fire, licking the remnants of her previous roasted marshmallow off her lips.

Wednesday sat on Enid’s right, squishing a marshmallow before stabbing it with a pointy stick. Enid bit her tongue a little in an attempt not to smile at Wednesday’s way of trying a marshmallow for the first time. But it was pretty much impossible to keep a neutral expression when Wednesday was so darn cute.

“Nights like this bring me back to our first fire,” Mrs. Addams reminisced while she filled a metal cup with the hot chocolate milk Enid watched Mrs. Addams make from scratch with lots of chocolate, milk, and a ladle full of sugar. “Minus the screaming,” she added, handing the cup to Pugsley, who passed it on to Enid.

Enid didn’t flinch this time, aware it wasn’t silver. “Thanks,” she said to Pugsley, and to Mrs. Addams, who kept spoiling Enid even though she didn’t have to.

“It happened right after our winter break at Nevermore,” Mr. Addams said as he leaned forward on the tree stump, looking around the circle like he wanted to see if he got everyone’s attention for the story he was about to tell. “The power went out, so we built a pyre in the quad to stay warm. When the snow around us thawed, they found more than dead vermin and trampled grass.”

“What did they find, Dad?” Pugsley asked, eyes glinting as he roasted a bug above the fire.

“The bodies,” Mr. Addams answered, and Enid didn’t like where this not-so-fictional campfire story was going.

“Vanishers,” Mrs. Addams said. “All of them.”

“That’s terrible,” Enid gasped, grimacing when Pugsley crunched the bug with his teeth. “No wonder they’re on the brink of extinction,” Enid commented, glancing at Wednesday roasting her marshmallow.

“Nobody knew they were missing,” Mrs. Addams shared while she picked up the flask sitting against her shoe, and the smell alone told Enid it was alcohol. The heavy kind, like the one her dad drank after her mom yelled at him. “Everyone assumed they were hiding,” Mrs. Addams added before taking a swig from her flask.

Enid couldn’t imagine what it was like to die and have everyone think she was just hiding, like her disappearance didn’t matter to anyone and didn’t raise any concerns. Those poor Vanishers. How horrible it must have been for them to be that invisible, and it was awful for their families too, to lose their children like that.

“To this day, they haven’t found the killer,” Mr. Addams divulged, as if this story couldn’t get any worse. “Everyone who was there that night believes they were murdered for their ability to hide, by someone who despises those able to blend in unnoticed.”

Pugsley’s eyes gleamed as he leaned forward. “Do you think a Normie killed them, Dad?” he asked, and Enid looked at Wednesday, who hadn’t said a word yet when murder mysteries were right up her alley.

“No,” Mr. Addams answered, shaking his head. “My gut tells me it was another outcast.”

“Poor Rose,” Mrs. Addams exhaled, handing the flask to her husband. “She was a lovely girl.”

If another Vanisher enrolled at Nevermore while Enid was there, she would make sure they wouldn’t go unnoticed. She didn’t want anyone to feel left out and lonely, no matter how peculiar their hobbies were, like Wednesday making creepy murder boards to solve crimes.

Maybe Enid would even end up with another great friend, although there was only one Wednesday Addams, and nobody could ever take her spot as Enid’s number one.

Wednesday took a bite from her charred marshmallow and spat it out, yeeting the rest of it into the trees behind them.

“Too hot?” Enid guessed, grimacing at the thought of Wednesday burning her tongue.

Wednesday shook her head. “Too sweet,” she corrected, though there was no way that the heat didn’t hurt.

“Do you really not like anything sweet?” Enid wondered, frowning at her best friend. “Not one single thing?”

“A single…thing? No,” Wednesday answered, but something about the way she paused for a second sounded like there was something sweet she did like.

Enid wondered what it was, and she looked forward to finding out. There were tons of sweet things to enjoy, and as long as it was actually sweet and not spicy, Enid would probably like whatever it was that Wednesday liked.

Wednesday’s gaze flicked away. “How many deaths has Nevermore covered up?” she questioned, and if Mr. Addams or Mrs. Addams had an answer that included an actual number, Enid didn’t want to know.  

Nevermore probably covered it up to avoid scaring students and because they didn’t want students to think there was a killer among them, although not all outcasts were students at Nevermore.

Chapter Text

Wednesday checked the thermostat as she stood in the Moonlit Manor to spend time with her children. 84, the display read, which meant nobody had cranked it up, when she assumed someone did. Perhaps it was broken and stuck on a number that was no longer accurate, considering the heat Wednesday felt spreading all over her body.

Enid’s pink shirt rode up, revealing a small strip of the smooth skin on her back as she raised her arms to attach a hammock to the tree. Enid knitted it for Erebus and Nyx, as a surprise to ‘richen their habitat,’ or so she had declared when she showed it to Wednesday this morning.

Wednesday tapped the thermostat, and when she tried lowering it a degree, the temperature changed, concluding that it wasn’t faulty, though her theory appeared to be. Wednesday observed the room for any changes she may have overlooked, but found none. The issue had to be internal, then. Likely a fever of sorts.

“What do you think?” Enid asked, smiling as she nudged her black and white handiwork. “Cute, right?”

“I suppose,” Wednesday answered, mapping the curve of Enid’s lips, saving it to memory, should she need it for her book.  

“Ooh, I think Nyx is going to be the first to try it out,” Enid announced while Nyx climbed toward the hammock.  “Aren’t you, girl?” Enid cooed, reaching out to pet Nyx, who leaned into Enid’s touch.

Wednesday’s chest constricted strangely when Enid gave Nyx a kiss. It didn’t feel like discomfort, although Wednesday couldn’t say that she was comfortable either. Perhaps she had suffered latent injuries, which began to plague her at random times. It would explain the unusual heat, spreading like wildfire.

When Erebus leaped from the tree and glided through the air, Wednesday held out her hands to catch him. Nyx was partial to Enid and sought out her attention more, but Erebus gravitated toward Wednesday more. Erebus was a sweet boy who had clung to her since the day she found him. Nyx, on the other hand, was a stubborn girl who had bitten everyone who went near her, except for Enid.

“Hi, cutiepie,” Enid said while she approached, looking at Wednesday one second and at Erebus the next. “Hi,” Enid repeated, reaching out. “Hi, boy.”

Did Enid refer to me as cutiepie?

Wednesday eyed the sneaky little wolf cautiously, uncertain whom Enid meant that first hi for. It could have been for Erebus, although saying hi to someone three times was excessive, even for Enid. One greeting sufficed; two to account for enthusiasm. But three was suspicious and insinuated that the first was indeed aimed at Wednesday.

As far as nicknames went, cutiepie was not one Wednesday was willing to tolerate without repercussions. Should Enid refer to her as such again, Wednesday would ensure it was the last time. Perhaps she could tell Enid to brush her own hair for the remainder of their summer break, considering threats involving physical harm were out of the question. On second thought, however, Wednesday had no desire to cause Enid any kind of pain, no matter how low the severity might be.

Enid was Wednesday’s best friend, and she would hate to be the reason Enid experienced distress or sadness. Wednesday wanted Enid to be happy, and if she could wish upon another star, Wednesday would not think of herself. She would wish for Enid’s happiness and freedom from the burden weighing her down. Alas, there was no such thing as stars granting wishes.

Wednesday frowned when a heat more palpable than the one before came into contact with her wrist. External rather than internal this time, although Wednesday felt it in her veins, too. She looked down, finding Enid’s thumb near her pulse.

“Enid,” Wednesday sighed softly at her touch-seeking little wolf.

Enid raised her head and blinked. “Yes?” she asked with a smile sweeter than those marshmallows she consumed during their outing.

Wednesday stared into an ocean of blue with specks of gold, brighter than she had captured with her typewriter, although she intended to correct that mistake. “Why are you caressing my wrist?” Wednesday questioned, and she wanted to punctuate her words by glancing down, but found that she couldn’t look away.

“Sorry about that,” Enid responded, averting her eyes while her cheeks reddened. “I, uh, I just wanted to pet Erebus,” she explained, pointing at Wednesday’s hands. “And it’s hard to do that without touching you,” Enid continued, though Erebus wasn’t resting on either of Wednesday’s wrists.

“But if it bothers you, I’ll stop,” Enid blurted out half a second later. “I can totally stop and wait for my turn to hold him.”

“Very well,” Wednesday exhaled, although she wouldn’t hand over her baby anytime soon. “You may continue.”

Enid’s proximity, paired with her colorful appearance, was less than ideal, but Wednesday was fine. She took her allergy medication not that long ago, and since she began to swallow two pills rather than one, she no longer suffered sudden outbreaks. Wednesday had everything under control.

Besides, small doses of exposure like this might be helpful to thwart a reaction entirely, although Wednesday’s experiment had yet to produce the result she sought. Building immunity for an allergy was more complex than she had hoped, but a lifetime of extreme color-intolerance was a hellish fate Wednesday couldn’t endure. A life without Enid, however, was not an option.

Enid wasn’t going anywhere, even if it resulted in Wednesday’s death.

“Are you sure this is okay?” Enid asked, chewing her bottom lip, finger stilling. “Your heart is beating faster than it was a minute ago.”

Wednesday raised her chin slightly. “What heart?”

“That big one you’re trying to hide but can’t because I see you,” Enid answered, gaze darkening as she leaned closer. “I see you,” she repeated, cupping Wednesday’s cheek. “And that beautiful heart of yours,” Enid added, caressing Wednesday’s cheek with her thumb.

The touch hit Wednesday like an inferno, burning right through her. Was this what best friends did? Wednesday wasn’t certain, considering Enid was her first.

“I’m sorry,” Enid said suddenly while she backed away. “I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

“You did no such thing,” Wednesday responded, watching as Enid wrung her hands together and stopped when her claws came out.

“Your heart is beating insanely fast, Wens. I must have freaked you out.”

Wednesday focused on her breathing, so it might slow her pulse. Unfortunately, she had no control over her organs, and her heart wasn’t the first to fail her.

“You may have surprised me,” Wednesday admitted, considering her words carefully to avoid being misinterpreted. “But you do not have what it takes to frighten me.”

“Seriously?” Enid scoffed, gaze hardening. “You’re poking me while my claws are out?”

“Proves my point, does it not?”

“You’re insufferable,” Enid groaned, withdrawing her claws with a deep sigh. “Sometimes I wonder why I like you.”

Wednesday blinked. “You…like me?”

“You’re my best friend! Of course I like you,” Enid answered with a smile that reached her eyes. “I like all of my friends.”

“All of them? Equally?”

“Kind of, yes,” Enid nodded. “But I definitely like you the most,” she added, smiling brighter than before. “You’ll always be my number one, Wens.”

Wednesday believed Enid was being truthful, but as soon as Enid found a boy to replace Ajax, she would not think of Wednesday as her number one. Relationships changed people and the priorities they had. Wednesday knew it was only a matter of time before Enid got involved with someone bound to break her heart.

“Wednesday?” Enid whispered, swallowing. “Why are you seething?”

“If someone breaks your heart, I will stomp on theirs,” Wednesday vowed, as she should have done with Ajax.

“You know…,” Enid chuckled, shaking her head. “You could just say you like me, too.”

“Fine,” Wednesday exhaled, though she didn’t see how it was relevant. “I do.”

“Do what?”

Kick your ass if you don’t quit hounding me.

***   

Wednesday grabbed the bow she had carved when she was eleven and reached for one of the arrows. The sun cream she had applied to protect her skin made her hands a bit slippery, though she wouldn’t let one hindrance stop her from hitting her target dead center. Keeping up with her training all year round was crucial to remain sharp, now more than ever.

Wednesday lined up her arrow and was about to let it go when Enid stepped out into the line of fire, blocking the path between the arrowhead and the target. For someone capable of sensing an arrow flying through the trees in the woods, she was oblivious to the one aimed at her. Wednesday presumed Enid would have no issue catching this one, too, though she had no intention of testing that theory.

Enid was not the live target that Wednesday wanted to shoot at.

“Hello, Enid,” Wednesday greeted as she lowered her bow.

“Howdy, roomie,” Enid said, smiling while she tipped an imaginary hat, resting her other hand on the tan-colored belt buckle of her light blue jeans, which stopped in the middle of her thighs.

Wednesday sized Enid up, not surprised to see her wearing a pink t-shirt again. It was a soft, faded shade of pink, which went well with the rest of the outfit she had chosen for today. Wednesday’s eyes lingered on the belt, imagining what Enid would look like with a real hat and a rope in her hands. Enid’s fingers flexed, tapping against the clasp in a rhythmic pattern.

The sweltering heat of the sun was getting to Wednesday, causing her to sweat when her training was far from over. She felt it spreading from her face to her neck, hot and uncomfortable. Summer had never agreed with Wednesday, though it was significantly worse this year.

“So…,” Enid began, clearing her throat as she put her hands behind her back. “What are you doing?”

Wednesday’s eyes snapped up. “Preparing to slay our enemies, should new foes be foolish enough to attack,” she answered while she realigned her bow.

“Right,” Enid nodded. She rolled her lips into her mouth and released them with a soft pop. “But they’d have to get through me first if they even think about touching a hair on your head.”

“The feeling is mutual,” Wednesday responded, adjusting her aim.

Wednesday nodded her head slightly to her left. It took Enid a couple of seconds, but then she blinked and moved aside, clearing a path. Wednesday focused on the target and, with a final exhale, she let the arrow fly.

Enid clapped when the arrow landed in the center of the target, and while Wednesday generally didn’t care for an audience, she didn’t mind Enid observing her practice. On the contrary, with Enid around, Wednesday had a visible reminder of her motivation.

“Swords, knives, arrows…,” Enid said, smiling while she approached. “Is there any weapon you don’t know how to use?”

“A bo staff,” Wednesday responded, though she had no interest in wielding a piece of wood, considering knives were more efficient for drawing blood. “My martial arts instructor quit after I sharpened the tip and stabbed him,” she shared, and while he did bleed more than a few drops, it wasn’t a fatal wound.

“That sounds about right,” Enid chuckled, taking a step closer, touching the bow, inches from Wednesday’s left hand. “Did you make this?” Enid questioned, sliding her palm across the curve, stopping when her skin brushed against Wednesday’s.

“Yes,” Wednesday confirmed, gaze flicking down to Enid’s hand.

Enid was standing in Wednesday’s personal space, though she was fine with that for now. With her allergy pills in her system, it was safe to be near the girl she had grown to like, although Wednesday wouldn’t push Enid away if she hadn’t taken her medication.

“Can you teach me how to do that?” Enid asked, letting go of the bow. “That,” she clarified, pointing at the target.

“I mean…,” Enid continued a second later. “It looks easy, but I don’t think it is, and I have no idea what I’m doing,” she blurted out, combing her hair behind her ears. “So, maybe you can spare an hour to teach me, if it’s not too much trouble?”

“I can spare all the time in the world for you, Enid,” Wednesday responded earnestly, for she would spend the entire day outside teaching Enid about archery if Enid wished to.

“You say the sweetest things,” Enid exhaled, smiling while she placed her right hand against her chest. “It’s like an arrow to my heart, but in a good way.”

Wednesday wasn’t aiming to be sweet, but she didn’t want to eradicate Enid’s smile with an icy comment. Some things were more important than Wednesday’s reputation as cold, distant, careless, and heartless. There was no need to shut Enid out when she kept finding her way in, and when Wednesday let her.

“You know…,” Enid said, nodding. “You’re going to make someone really happy someday.”

“Do not make me vomit,” Wednesday grimaced, scrunching up her nose at the nauseating idea. “I shall never be someone’s significant other.”

“If you say so,” Enid shrugged, sparing another smile.

“I know so.”

Wednesday was impervious to such afflictions. She had entertained the idea of dating once, to see what the fuss was about, and found it was severely overrated. Spending time with a friend was better than wasting it on an expendable nobody. Wednesday did not need anyone by her side other than Enid, who was welcome to move in with Wednesday once she purchased a place of her own.

“Come here,” Wednesday demanded, holding out her bow.

“I’m here,” Enid announced as she hurried toward Wednesday, accepting the bow.

Wednesday grabbed an arrow and moved to stand behind Enid. “I’m going to correct your hands,” Wednesday explained while she reached for Enid’s left hand, placing it in the center between the curves.

“Like this?” Enid asked, gripping the wood tighter.

“Breathe,” Wednesday instructed, moving Enid’s fingers one by one until her hand relaxed. “If you squeeze too hard, you’ll break my bow.”

“Go easy on the wolf strength,” Enid nodded. “Got it.”

Wednesday lined up the arrow and helped Enid keep it in place, waiting for her breaths to even out. Enid was warm, more so than the sun shining down on them. It was as if Enid’s body heat had gone up, though Wednesday wouldn’t know for certain unless she measured Enid’s temperature every day.

“Breathe,” Wednesday repeated, adjusting Enid’s elbow.

Wednesday kept one hand on Enid’s hand holding the bow, and placed the other loosely on Enid’s waist, shifting to stand beside Enid so she could pull back the arrow without poking out Wednesday’s eye.

Enid let the arrow fly, gasping as it sliced through the air and splintered the arrow that Wednesday had shot at the target.

Enid lowered the bow into the grass and whirled around. “We did it, Wens!” she exclaimed while she grabbed Wednesday by her elbows. “Teamwork for the win,” Enid grinned, shaking Wednesday.

Enid stopped and smiled, and Wednesday could tell Enid wanted to hug her. Wednesday stared into Enid’s eyes, observing the way they shone. It was uncertain whether they were alone or being watched, but Wednesday decided she was open to embracing Enid for a brief moment.

Wednesday slowly moved closer, erasing the gap that kept them apart. With the unspoken request lingering in the air, she raised her arms so she could wrap them around Enid’s waist. Wednesday was about to hug Enid when the sound of her phone ringing caused Enid to jump, putting an abrupt halt to Wednesday’s plan.

“Jesus,” Enid blinked while she dug into her pocket. “I’ll be right back.”

***   

Wednesday leaned closer to the little wolf, who snored softly in her sleep. She grabbed the sheets where they rested around Enid’s side, right beneath the curve of her elbow, and pulled them higher, covering Enid’s shoulder. Making her comfortable was essential to keep her from stirring and realizing that Wednesday had feigned her sleep and was no longer in bed with her.

It was only for a short while, of course. Wednesday had no intention of leaving Enid alone for an entire night again, regardless of how safe she was within these walls. This time, Wednesday had no plans that required her to sneak out farther than one floor down, for an hour or two at most.

Wednesday’s eyes moved from Enid’s back to the nightstand, where Enid had left the phone that had disturbed their afternoon yesterday. If it were up to Wednesday, she would throw it out of the window, and rappel down with a rope to stomp on it with the heel of her boot. Alas, she could not destroy Enid’s beloved communication device, or else Enid would be furious and likely never speak to her again. Therefore, Wednesday had to consider an alternative option.

Grabbing Enid’s phone on her way out, Wednesday headed toward the kitchen. She put the device on the counter and reached up to open the cupboard, retrieving her mug from its usual spot. Wednesday prepared a quad on ice and searched Enid’s phone, scrolling through her list of contacts.

Wednesday took a sip from her coffee, finding Yoko’s name listed last, right below Xavier. Perhaps Yoko was not that important after all. And yet, the pink heart next to her name was still there. Wednesday considered deleting her contact information, but knew that she couldn’t do that.

Sighing, Wednesday pressed call and finished the rest of her coffee.

“Hey, Boo,” Yoko said as her face appeared on the screen, revealing her fangs when she smiled. “I thought you went to bed already. Is everything okay?”

Boo?

Wednesday paused at the nickname rolling off Yoko’s tongue as though it was as familiar to her as hello. Boo was a stupid pet name, and Wednesday failed to understand what it meant beyond something children yelled when trying to frighten someone after jumping out of a hiding spot.  

“I can’t see you or hear you,” Yoko commented, frowning while she waved a hand. “Are you there?”

Wednesday ignored the vampire’s whining and looked up what ‘Boo’ meant, pursing her lips when she read that it was a term of endearment, similar to sweetheart and baby. Its intended purpose was for romantic partners and occasionally close friends, though the red thread for both was affection.

Was Yoko interested in being more than friends with Enid?

“Enid?” Yoko called out. “I can hear you breathing,” she claimed, though it would be impressive if she did hear Enid breathing when she was asleep upstairs.

Wednesday steeled her expression and turned on the camera. “Hello,” she greeted the roommate stealer, suppressing a smile when Yoko jumped at the sight of her.

“Whoa, hold up…,” Yoko frowned, bringing her face closer to the screen. “Wednesday?”

“Obviously,” Wednesday responded dryly.

“What are you doing with Enid’s phone?”

“Changing the ringtone,” Wednesday answered, although she doubted that there was one that wouldn’t sound irritating when it went off at an inconvenient time.

“Look, not to ruin your whole scary goth vibe, but you might not want to mess with a werewolf nine days before the next full moon.”

“You know the lunar cycle,” Wednesday noted, though she had no idea why a vampire bothered with such data.

“Sounds like you do, too,” Yoko responded with a smirk.

“Hey, Wednesday,” Divina spoke up as she joined that nuisance on the screen. “Is there something you want to talk about?”

“Yes,” Wednesday confirmed, reminded by Divina’s question that she did call Yoko for a reason.  

“Is it about Enid?” Yoko guessed accurately.

“I am calling to invite you for a sleepover this Friday,” Wednesday revealed. “Black attire only, otherwise you may not enter,” she explained, which was pertinent to keep exposure to her allergy to a minimum, and therefore non-negotiable.

If there was so much as a trace of another color on Yoko, Wednesday would shut the door in her face and let her return on foot. The same rule applied to Divina, unless she was willing to change for a second chance at being let inside. White was acceptable as well, though Yoko didn’t need to know it was. The last thing Wednesday wanted was for Yoko to appear masquerading as an angel when she was, in fact, a demon.

“You may stay until Sunday,” Wednesday informed the pair. “After which you will be given a ride back to the airport.”

“You want us to spend six hours on a plane…,” Yoko said. “For a sleepover… At your house?”

“Yes,” Wednesday responded, and while six hours in a space cramped with strangers was not ideal, that leech’s comfort was irrelevant. Perhaps Divina could stuff Yoko into a coffin and pass her off as luggage, like Wednesday would, if she were in the siren’s shoes. “Do you decline or accept this invitation?”

“We’ll be there,” Yoko nodded, flashing her fangs. “I was thinking of going to Las Vegas this weekend, but we can postpone that to next weekend.”

“We’re seventeen,” Divina commented. “They won’t let us in.”

“I believe in your skills of persuasion, babe,” Yoko winked at Divina.

Divina shook her head at Yoko and smiled. “Can Kent come?” Divina asked, facing the camera.  

“Absolutely not,” Wednesday answered. “This invitation is only valid for the two of you and Bianca.”

“Girls only kind of weekend, got it,” Divina responded, holding up her right thumb. “Weird that Bianca didn’t text us about it, though,” she mumbled, turning to look at Yoko, who shrugged.

“I am unable to locate Bianca’s number in Enid’s phone,” Wednesday shared, assuming she wasn’t listed as one of Enid’s nonsensical contacts, such as ‘Lu-Lu’ and ‘Bee-buddy.’

“I can give you Bianca’s number,” Yoko offered with a devilish grin. “In exchange for blood.”

Wednesday could arrange that deal. “How much blood?” she checked, although she was certain she could provide more than one vampire could consume in one weekend.

“A few pints should do to get me through the weekend. But you don’t have to pick them up for me if you give me the address to a hospital or a donation center near you.”

“There is no need for that,” Wednesday stated while she triggered the hidden opening to the walk-in refrigerator by pressing the tile with the black widow painted on it. “There is enough blood in the kitchen to keep you satiated, should you be overwhelmed by thirst.”

“Where did – you know what, never mind. I don’t want to know,” Yoko responded with a chuckle. “See you Friday, Wednesday,” she winked, blowing Wednesday a kiss.

I hate that vampire, Wednesday thought as she glared at Yoko’s smirking face.

Wednesday could taint the blood bags with traces of garlic, but she would rather greet Yoko as a friend than displease Enid, who, for unclear reasons, was fond of that leech.

“Until then, bloodsucker,” Wednesday responded, opting to aim for distant friend. The kind who needed to stay an extra foot away from her, preferably starting with one underground.

“Don’t call my girlfriend that,” Divina scowled, wagging her index finger at the screen. “Or else I’ll drag you to an island in the middle of nowhere and strand your ass there.”

An abandoned island sounded acceptable. Going there without Enid, however, did not. Perhaps their souls were tethered after all, as Enid had claimed, for an existence without her was not one Wednesday could bear.  

This friendship of theirs was much more intense than Wednesday had anticipated.

Chapter Text

OMG, a slumber party!

Enid couldn’t believe her ears when Wednesday told her parents that she had invited Yoko, Divina, and Bianca to spend the weekend with them. The whole weekend! So, not one sleepover, but like, two nights of sleepovers. Although Enid wasn’t sure if they were actually going to be sharing a room. It would be a tiny miracle if Wednesday allowed their friends inside her bedroom at all, with her strict rules there.

But that didn’t change the fact that their friends were currently being picked up from the airport by Lurch. Enid would have loved to be there, waiting in the terminal with a huge cardboard sign and snacks, but she literally just found out. And while Enid enjoyed surprises like this, Wednesday really should have told her parents sooner, and maybe started by asking for their permission first before inviting people.

Mr. and Mrs. Addams didn’t seem to mind, though. They were smiling and telling Wednesday how wonderful it was, while Wednesday looked like someone had stolen her favorite dagger for some reason. Enid guessed that Wednesday did this for her, which was really nice and sweet, but Enid hoped that Wednesday would have some fun this weekend as well.

“Yoko can sleep in the dungeon,” Wednesday told her parents, so all of them sleeping in the same room was out of the question then.

“Um,” Enid cleared her throat. “You know vampires don’t sleep in dungeons, right?”

Vampires slept in beds in regular rooms, the same as the vast majority of people. They didn’t sleep in dungeons or coffins or anything like that, unlike how they were portrayed in movies. And they didn’t have to avoid sunlight like the plague, although Yoko did use blackout curtains so the sun didn’t irritate her eyes when she opened them in the morning.

“You invited a vampire?” Pugsley gasped, eyes round as he smiled in an uncanny way. “Can she bite me?”

Enid leaned a bit closer to Wednesday, without invading her space too much. “Maybe he can sleep in the dungeon,” Enid whispered to Wednesday, adding a light chuckle.

Wednesday nodded once. “I can make that happen again.”

Wait, what? Again? What did Wednesday mean by again? And why did she sound so serious, like Pugsley had actually slept in the dungeon before?  

“I heard fangs can bite through bone,” Pugsley shared, full of glee. “And that they can drain someone’s blood in thirty seconds,” he added, which wasn’t entirely true because it took twice that long to drink that much.  

“Pugsley,” Mrs. Addams said with a gentle yet stern tone. “Leave Wednesday’s friends alone.”

“Yes, Mom,” Pugsley deflated.

“They are not my friends,” Wednesday claimed. “They are nothing more than acquaintances, enrolled at the same school you forced me to attend in a feeble attempt to turn me into a version of you.”

Enid stared at Wednesday, who sure knew how to turn her words into knives. At this point, after three weeks of staying with the Addams family, it didn’t shock Enid anymore how Wednesday could say mean and hurtful things to her mother without getting punished or yelled at. Enid did wish that Wednesday would be a bit nicer to her mother, though.

Wednesday was also wrong to say that Yoko, Divina, and Bianca weren’t her friends. Enid did know Yoko and Divina better than Wednesday did, and talked to them pretty much every day, but they wanted to be Wednesday’s friends, too. They were all on the same team, even though Wednesday hadn’t officially accepted to join the Nightshades yet. And Bianca was definitely Wednesday’s friend since they put their rivalry aside and joined forces to defend Nevermore.

“They’re here!” Enid exclaimed when she heard the key turn, unlocking the front door.

When the door opened, Divina, Yoko, and Bianca walked in, each tugging a suitcase on wheels along with them. Enid wasted no time pulling Yoko and Divina into a hug, smiling as they immediately hugged her back.

“We missed you, too, sweetie,” Divina whispered, patting Enid’s back.

“It’s so good to see you guys again,” Enid exhaled. “You know, face to face.”

“I like seeing your face, too,” Yoko replied while she squeezed a bit tighter.

After hugging for what felt like only ten seconds but was probably closer to a minute, Enid waved at Bianca, unsure if she would welcome a hug or not.

“Bring it in,” Bianca said, smiling while she opened her arms.

Yay, another hug, Enid thought as she hugged Bianca, which was such a huge milestone in their friendship. Enid had a positive feeling that Bianca actually wanted to be her friend and wasn’t just trying to be nice because Enid had joined the Nightshades.

“Hey, Wednesday,” Yoko greeted with a smile. “Nice shirt,” she commented, tipping her tinted sunglasses down. “Non omnis moriar; not all of me will die,” she read and translated before humming softly, pushing her sunglasses back over the bridge of her nose.

Wednesday arched a brow. “You speak Latin?”

“Among a large number of other languages,” Yoko nodded, which was true because she had a bunch of books in foreign languages in her dorm back at Nevermore, and Yoko was insanely smart. “I, too, believe in the immortality of the legacy we leave behind after our death,” she shared, and if that was what that Latin quote referred to, then it wasn’t all that gloomy. “I imagine yours will be particularly immortal, pilgrim slayer.”

“And yours,” Yoko added a beat later. “The werewolf who took down a Hyde,” she praised Enid, who was lucky to have survived that night.

Thankfully, Enid’s scars were fading, and it seemed like they would disappear altogether eventually. Maybe all wounds that weren’t caused by silver were bound to heal, no matter how long it took. Or maybe Enid had good genetics. Either way, brave or not, she would rather not spend her whole life physically marked by that night.

“So…,” Yoko trailed off, chuckling dryly. “Black attire only, huh?” she commented, gesturing at Enid, who was wearing a floral skirt and a pink top.

“Wait,” Enid frowned, looking at her friends. “Is there a black and white dress code?”

Enid had no idea, but she could totally get changed. Maybe in something white, seeing as Yoko and Divina were dressed in black, Bianca in white, and Wednesday in a mix of both due to the long-sleeved white shirt she was wearing underneath her black one.

“Yes,” Wednesday confirmed. “I imposed a dress code when I extended this invite.”

Enid thought that Wednesday rejected the idea of dress codes, like she did at the dance when she refused to wear white, even though it was one of her signature colors. Although Wednesday never went with white without adding a lot of black.

But it was a fun touch, and maybe implementing a dress code could be one of Wednesday’s things for all of the sleepovers she would organize. Maybe they could go with glitter and glamour for their next one, or one where everyone had to wear pajamas.

“I had to borrow clothes from Yoko for this weekend,” Divina said, pointing at the black blouse and tie she had on. “I don’t have anything black, aside from these slacks, my puffer jacket, and my Dr. Martens boots.”

Divina looked amazing in that suit, like she walked right out of the pages of a magazine. Enid sure had the most beautiful, attractive friends.

“You can take any clothes of mine you want,” Yoko told Divina. “What are g—” Yoko paused abruptly, eyes flitting around the room. “What are good friends for?” she finished, smiling sweetly.

“Lurch, change of plans,” Mrs. Addams announced, snapping her fingers. “These young ladies will be sharing a room,” she said while she gestured at Divina and Yoko.

“Wow, okay,” Divina blinked, not once but twice. “Is it that obvious?”

“Makes you wonder…,” Yoko trailed off, smirking while she glanced at Enid, who had no idea what Yoko was hinting at.

Divina moved a hand across her hair, which was slicked back, like it was most of the time. “It…it doesn’t bother you…that we’re…you know?” she gulped, looking at Wednesday’s parents, and Enid had this overwhelming urge to wrap her arms around Divina and tell her that she was safe here.

“Lesbians,” Yoko filled in, putting an arm around Divina’s waist.

“All are welcome here, in our casa,” Mr. Addams replied. “We don’t discriminate against anyone based on gender, appearance, or sexuality.”

“There is nothing wrong with two girls in love,” Mrs. Addams added, and Enid couldn’t agree more, though she was one of the few wolves that did.

Divina’s shoulders relaxed. “That’s good to know,” she hummed, smiling while she leaned her head against Yoko’s.

Yoko moved when Lurch tried to take her suitcase. “Hold on,” Yoko said, zipping her suitcase open, taking something out. “For your birthday,” she told Enid, revealing something wrapped in black paper.

“Thank you,” Enid replied while she accepted the gift.

Enid carefully removed the paper, gasping softly when she saw that it was a journal with a pink cover and a gold-colored lock shaped like a heart. She had always wanted one of those to write down private stuff that she’d rather not blog about, but for some reason, she never bought one.

“This is perfect,” Enid told her friend, whose timing couldn’t be better because she had so much she wanted to write down, about Wednesday and everything that had happened since she transformed into a werewolf.  

“Here,” Divina said while she held out a small rectangular box. “You’ll need this to write in your journal.”

“A pink pen,” Enid discovered when she opened her gift. “Thank you, guys.”

***  

After everyone got settled in and had dinner together, they kicked off their sleepover in the kitchen, which was the best place to prepare snacks for a potential movie or game night. Both, if they stayed up extra late, and slept in tomorrow.

Wednesday stood by the counter, slicing fruit with surgical precision. Enid wanted to join her and ask if she could give her a hand, but decided to keep some distance instead. Wednesday didn’t like people entering her space, especially with others around to watch. Enid knew that, and she respected Wednesday’s boundaries. So, as long as their friends were there, Enid had to keep her instinct to gravitate toward Wednesday in check.

Yoko leaned against the table, sipping from a glass of blood-orange juice, mixed with real blood. O-negative, if Enid’s nose got that right, although the distinction between blood types was nearly impossible to smell. Yoko was on mocktail duty, of course, but she was thirsty, and they had to prep the ingredients first anyway.

Divina worked on the chips and dips, putting together an assortment of the many snacks that she and Yoko brought with them, with chips just the tip of the iceberg. Enid couldn’t wait to try a little bit of everything, except for the stuff that was too spicy for her, like that hot salsa dip that Yoko liked to drown her tortilla chips in.

Bianca had taken on the role of painting mini breadsticks with food coloring, turning them into fingers with black fingernails. She handled the brush with the skill of a DaVinci, creating clean strokes, which wasn’t surprising because her makeup was always on point.

Meanwhile, Enid supervised the snack station, ready to help out her friends if they needed a hand with anything. But mostly, she was waiting for Yoko to get started on the drinks so she could see the expert at work and learn a thing or two.

Yoko grabbed a strawberry and held it in front of Enid’s lips, smiling when she opened her mouth. “Yummy, right?” Yoko asked while Enid ate the strawberry.

“Mhmm,” Enid moaned and nodded her agreement.

“You look good in white,” Yoko commented, reaching out to brush the strand of hair that was tickling Enid’s cheek out of her face. “But I’m lowkey mad you got changed,” Yoko added, dropping her hand. “Your arms were hot in that top.”

“Oh…,” Enid whispered, jumping when a knife suddenly clattered onto the floor.

“I am done,” Wednesday announced, bending down to pick up the knife she dropped, which was odd because she usually wasn’t clumsy like that, and she was crazy good at handling knives. “With the fruit,” she added a few seconds later, tossing her knife into the sink.

“The chips and dips are good to go, too,” Divina said. “Mind giving me a hand decorating the cookies, Wednesday? They’re Halloween-themed, so cobwebs and pumpkins.”

Yoko grabbed a bag from the table and opened it. “We figured you’d appreciate a spooky snack platter,” she told Wednesday while she shook what appeared to be gummy eyeballs into a bowl.

“I would rather ingest glass,” Wednesday deadpanned, nose wrinkling at the candy.

“Okay,” Yoko replied, putting the bag down. “Which poison do you prefer?”

“Arsenic.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time,” Yoko chuckled. “How would you like your mocktail? Sweet or savoury?”

“Neither,” Wednesday answered while she started decorating her first cookie.

“Are you sure? I bet I can make a blend you’ll like,” Yoko replied while she grabbed a bottle of cranberry juice.

Wednesday arched a brow. “Are you willing to stake your life on that?”

“It wouldn’t be much of a challenge otherwise.”

“I am not hauling you back to the airport in a coffin, Tanaka,” Bianca said while she stopped painting breadsticks. “You shouldn’t place bets you’ll lose.”

“There is no need to be concerned,” Wednesday spoke up, and this was a good time for her to tell everyone that she was just messing around. “Lurch can carry her.”

“Over my dead body,” Divina said, pulling Yoko into her arms. “If she goes, I go,” Divina declared before kissing Yoko on the cheek and quickly on the lips. 

“Slow down, Romeo and Juliet,” Bianca commented.

Enid glanced at Wednesday, wishing she could read her mind for a minute or so, to know what she was thinking. Something had felt off since their friends arrived, like something was bothering Wednesday. Maybe a sleepover required too much socialization at once for Wednesday, because she wasn’t used to hanging out with multiple people at once, and Enid knew how much Wednesday liked being alone.

Well, usually. Not lately with Enid, who spent the majority of her time being around Wednesday. But they were soul friends, so it was normal that they liked each other’s company.

After an awkward silence where nobody said anything, everyone resumed what they were doing or about to do. Yoko made a mocktail with pineapple juice, lemon juice, orange juice, grenadine, and ginger ale, which came out looking orange and smelling exceptionally sweet.

“It’s a Cinderella,” Yoko said while she topped it off with a little black umbrella. “Should be right up your alley,” she added, offering the glass to Enid.

Enid took a sip and hummed contentedly at the fruity flavor with the added sweetness of the grenadine. “It’s delicious,” she exclaimed, licking her lips. “You have to try this, Wednesday,” she insisted while she walked up to her best friend.

Maybe this mocktail included the one mysterious sweet thing that Wednesday liked.

Wednesday put down the cookie she was turning into a skull and took the glass from Enid, whose hope that she found what Wednesday liked diminished when Wednesday’s nose crinkled while she sniffed the mocktail. And when Wednesday tried some and grimaced, Enid knew that she had to keep looking.  

***  

It was dark when Enid went outside with Yoko, Divina, and Bianca while Wednesday stayed behind for a bit to check on Erebus and Nyx. Wednesday didn’t say that was why, but Enid knew that it was because she saw Wednesday going upstairs, and their kids needed to eat.

Enid gasped when a series of solar lights, staked into the grass, turned on. She had a feeling that Wednesday was behind this setup, although Enid had no proof, other than knowing how charming Wednesday could be. And this fairy-esque view had enchanting written all over it, like something straight out of a romantic movie.

“I like her,” Yoko exhaled as they approached the illuminated part of the garden.

Enid spotted black blankets laid out in the grass, forming a square big enough for at least a dozen people. “Like who?” she questioned, smiling at the fact that Wednesday made the garden cozy like this.

“Wednesday,” Yoko answered while she sat down next to her girlfriend.

“Me too,” Enid agreed as she moved to sit near Yoko, and it wasn’t a secret that Wednesday was her best friend.

“Her vibe is darker than mine,” Yoko stated, which was true. “But with killer eyes like those? She’s welcome to hex me.”

“She does have nice eyes,” Enid nodded. “Especially up close.”

“Speaking of the pretty devil,” Divina whispered, bobbing her head toward the mansion.

“Try not to drool too much,” Bianca commented quietly. “I don’t want Wednesday to switch schools when we have a shot at winning the fencing tournament.”

Enid looked at Yoko and Divina, who weren’t drooling. They were just being honest, and they praised girls all the time. It didn’t mean anything beyond appreciation, and they would never make a move on anyone. Especially someone who wasn’t even into girls. Plus, Yoko and Divina would never cheat on each other.

Wednesday walked up to them, holding a ham and cheese sandwich.

Yoko tapped the empty space next to her. “Saved you a spot,” she told Wednesday, looking up at her.

Bianca covered her face with her right hand. “Unbelievable,” she muttered, shaking her head.  

Wednesday glanced at Enid and then at Yoko before moving to sit down between them. Enid scooched to give Wednesday some space to do so, and Enid thought she was going to be the one to sit next to Yoko, but she didn’t mind sitting next to Wednesday and Bianca. Enid wanted to sit next to Wednesday anyway. She just hadn’t expected that Yoko did, too.

Yoko did say she liked Wednesday, and she probably wanted to get to know her better, which was great. Enid was sure that Wednesday would really get along with Yoko once she got to know her and build a genuine friendship where they could talk about the interests they had in common.

“Here,” Wednesday said while she offered the sandwich to Enid.

Enid accepted the sandwich with a smile. “Thank you,” she practically sang, happy that Wednesday remembered that she was always hungry.

There were plenty of snacks to enjoy, but chips, candy, and cookies weren’t as filling as a sandwich. Plus, it came with extra ham and cheese and an extra slice of bread in the middle. It was just what Enid needed to deal with her late-night cravings and help her stay full until the morning.

“Not a word, Tanaka,” Bianca warned with a deep sigh.

“You know I’m right,” Yoko grinned. “My radar never fails.”

Enid had no idea what they were talking about, but she didn’t want to pry and start an argument between her friends. “Anyone want to play a game?” she asked before biting into her sandwich.

“How about a game of never have I ever?” Divina suggested. “Everyone puts up one hand, we take turns stating something we have never experienced, and if you have, you put down a finger,” she explained, wriggling her fingers as she held up her right hand. “First one with all fingers down loses.”

“Okay,” Bianca said, holding up her left hand while she reached for a cookie with her right. “Never have I ever had a crush on a girl sitting in this circle.”

“Cheap shot,” Yoko huffed, putting a finger down. “But for what it’s worth, you’re all missing out.”

Divina put a finger down as well. “Definitely,” she agreed with her girlfriend. 

“Oh,” Enid whispered when they looked at her, so she guessed it was her turn next. “Never have I ever been homesick.”

“I have,” Divina replied, putting a second finger down. “Mostly when it’s Kent I’m leaving behind,” she explained, which made sense because of the whole twin thing.

“I haven’t,” Yoko said, grabbing a piece of candy. “Unless a person counts as home, then I’ve been homesick a lot,” she added, reaching for Divina’s hand.  

Enid smiled at her friends, definitely wanting what they had. She wasn’t sure if she would ever love a boy like that, though. But maybe she would meet a special guy next year, or the year after that.

“It’s your turn, Wednesday,” Enid announced when Wednesday didn’t say anything.

“Very well,” Wednesday exhaled. “Never have I ever taken a selfie.”

Enid put a finger down, along with everyone else, and she had a feeling that Wednesday said that on purpose, knowing they all had phones. Wednesday probably wanted to win because she didn’t like to lose, but this kind of game wasn’t about competition. It was meant to be fun, and to learn about crazy things they might have done, like skinny dipping, which Enid had never done, but she knew Yoko and Divina had.

“Let’s see…,” Yoko hummed, looking at Wednesday. “Never have I ever stolen something,” Yoko stated, smirking when Wednesday put a finger down.

“I was a kid,” Enid said when she put a finger down, too. “And it was just a handful of candy.”

“Been there, done that,” Divina chimed in, losing a finger in this round, too. “But I also stole some cop’s cuffs once.”

“House keys,” Bianca shared with a sigh. “Don’t ask,” she prompted, though Enid wasn’t going to.

Everyone was free to share as little or as much as they wanted to. Either way, Enid wasn’t going to judge her friends. Bianca probably had a good reason to steal someone’s house keys, and Divina might have been dared to steal those cuffs, or maybe she needed them for a costume party or something.

“Never have I ever been hospitalized,” Divina said, looking at Bianca, who put a finger down.

But while Yoko and Divina were busy looking at Bianca holding up the two fingers she had left, Enid noticed Wednesday putting another finger down. Enid wondered when and why Wednesday was at the hospital, and if it was something serious, although having to stay in the hospital for a while was never something good, except for those who were there to give birth. But Wednesday was way too young for that, which meant it was something bad, like a coma.

Enid wanted to ask, though she would rather not do that with their friends around. She didn’t want Wednesday to feel uncomfortable or pressured into opening up by putting her on the spot like that.

“Okay,” Yoko clapped her hands together. “After one round, we have Divina at the bottom with one finger,” she announced, gesturing at her girlfriend. “Figures you’d be there, babe,” she added, winking.

“With one finger?” Divina replied, shaking her head slightly while she smiled. “Doubtful.”

OMG, Enid did not need to hear that! How was she supposed to look at her friends now and not think about them having sex? Not that she was thinking about them like that, but she also kind of was right now because of the picture they painted. Plus, she already knew what they looked like in lingerie, so it wasn’t that much of a stretch to imagine them naked.

Why, God, why?

Enid tried to erase the mental image because it was wrong to think of her friends in that way, but she couldn’t get it out of her head.

“At the top…,” Yoko continued with a silent drumroll. “We currently have a tie between Wednesday, Enid, and yours truly.”

“Not for long,” Bianca declared with a grin. “Never have I ever consumed blood.”

“You bitch,” Yoko laughed, putting a finger down.

“Whoa,” Divina said while her eyes widened. “You drank blood?” she asked, staring at Wednesday, who had one less finger left, too.

“Damn, Addams,” Bianca commented. “Are you part vampire?”

“Succhiasangue,” (bloodsucker), Yoko commented in a language Enid didn’t understand, winking at Wednesday.

“Dice la sanguisuga,” (says the leech), Wednesday replied.

“Oh my,” Yoko gasped quietly. “She speaks Italian,” she said, clutching a hand to her chest.

“Of course,” Wednesday confirmed. “It’s the native tongue of Machiavelli.”

“It’s also the native tongue of Dante,” Yoko pointed out, whoever that was.

“Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch’intrate,” Wednesday said, switching back to what Enid assumed was Italian again.

“Abandon all hope, ye who enter here,” Yoko translated with a nod, smiling at Wednesday, and Enid was happy to see them bonding.

“You’re familiar with The Divine Comedy? I didn’t expect that. I assumed your knowledge was…rudimentary.”

Okay, maybe they weren’t bonding yet, but Enid knew that the potential was there. For one, Wednesday and Yoko had the same goth girl aesthetic, although Wednesday took hers way more seriously by acting like she was allergic to color.

Chapter Text

Wednesday took a blood bag out of the refrigerator, holding it out of Yoko’s reach when the hungry vampire tried to take it from her.

“How old are you?” Wednesday asked the question she had wanted to ask since last night.

Yoko rolled her eyes. “This isn’t Twilight, Bella,” she sighed while she turned her hand, raising her palm in a silent request.

“Meaning?” Wednesday prompted, lowering the blood bag.

“I’m seventeen,” Yoko answered, seizing her sustenance in the blink of an eye. “Do you need my birth certificate for verification, or will telling you suffice?”

“How are you familiar with Dante’s work?”

Yoko smiled, using one of her fangs to poke a hole in the bag. “Ah, that’s what this is about,” she said with a light chuckle, neglecting to provide a direct answer once more. “Reading books is more common than you think, Wednesday.”

“The mediocre drivel they sell at book stores may be bought by people who care more about the cover than the content, but I would not class Dante’s work as a book one keeps as décor on a shelf.”

“I’m a versatile reader,” Yoko shrugged. “And I happen to have a library at home, carrying a vast collection of books from all over the world,” she shared, taking a few sips from the blood. “You’re welcome to have a look, if you ever find yourself in my neck of the woods,” she offered with a wink.

Yoko’s lips were stained crimson, her fangs visible as she flashed Wednesday a smile. Enemies or not, she saw why Enid was drawn to this predator. The danger behind that smile spoke to the darkness inside of Wednesday, but she was not a helpless prey that Yoko could trap.

“Good morning, everyone,” Enid called out as she walked in with a smile that could disarm an army.

“Good morning,” Yoko replied, pulling Enid into a sideways hug, kissing the crown of her head. “You sleep okay?”

“More than okay,” Enid answered, hugging that leech back. “I had the best dream.”

“Do tell,” Divina said.

Wednesday turned on her heel and rushed out before she puked all over the floor. She clenched her jaw at the knowledge of Yoko being incapable of keeping her hands to herself. Yoko had showered Enid with affection since her arrival, which could only be a ploy to become roommates or to pursue a relationship.

“Bianca,” Wednesday said when she narrowly avoided a collision with her in the hall. “What do you say about starting the day with a duel?”

“You know, most people would start with breakfast,” Bianca responded, eyebrows creasing together. “But you look like you’re about to hurl, so fresh air it is,” she agreed, moving to walk side by side. “On one condition.”

“Go on,” Wednesday prompted, picking up the pair of swords she had left near the stairs when she came down. 

“We can fence if you tell me what’s bothering you.”

“It’s complicated,” Wednesday exhaled, unsure where to start, even if she wanted to.

“Feelings often are,” Bianca hummed while they went outside. “None of us is immune to matters of the heart.”

“My issue has nothing to do with my heart,” Wednesday bit out, although she did feel as though she got stabbed there.

Wednesday hated these confusing, new feelings that came with her friendship with Enid. It was torture to observe her bond with Yoko, particularly in the kitchen last night. Wednesday thought Enid would seek to be near her, but instead, it was Yoko she chose to be around.

This sleepover was intended as a pleasant surprise for Enid to ensure her happiness during their summer together. What Wednesday did not account for was that it would drive a wedge between them. It was as though Enid avoided her, while the opposite was true for Yoko, who had turned into the center of Enid’s attention.

Was Wednesday not Enid’s best friend?

Wednesday raised her sword and lunged, frowning when she grazed Bianca’s arm. It was a shallow cut, requiring no more than a bandaid, but Bianca should have been capable of blocking such an open attack.

“You are distracted,” Wednesday noted while she lowered her sword. “Why?”

Bianca sighed deeply. “I have been texting Xavier.”

“Are the two of you getting back together?”

“Hell no,” Bianca answered, which was good, considering relationships were liabilities. “I’m not interested in guys who are hung up on someone who’s obviously into someone else. Xavier and I are just friends,” she shared while she moved forward.

Wednesday circled Bianca, blocking her advance.

“I’ve been talking to Xavier about my mother,” Bianca revealed while she charged, blades clashing mid-air. “She was in a cult called MorningSong, and I finally got her out. It wasn’t easy. She’s still recovering from being brainwashed and remembering that she’s supposed to be my mother, but she’s out.”

Wednesday spun to her left, avoiding getting poked in her abdomen. “Out, but not free?” she questioned, noting the emphasis on out.

Bianca shook her head. “I’m hiding her in a hotel room,” she shared, which sounded too public to remain unnoticed. “I sired the staff, so they have no memory or record of her being there,” she added, as though she had read Wednesday’s mind.

“A hotel is not a sustainable solution,” Wednesday commented, wielding her sword, calculating her next move. “I can help you secure your mother’s freedom.”

Wednesday despised cults for preying on the weak and manipulating them into a false sense of security and belonging. Cult leaders stripped away people’s autonomy and sense of self, serving only their own agenda. The latter, Wednesday understood, but there was no glory in harming the innocent.

“Some say you don’t care about other people’s feelings,” Bianca said, side-stepping a swing. “I used to think that, too. But I was dead wrong about you, Addams. I think you care deeper than most.”

“Depends on the person,” Wednesday responded while their duel moved farther in the grass. “You have proven yourself…valuable.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re no longer my nemesis. It’s nice having you in my corner.”

Wednesday disarmed Bianca with a twist and pinned her against the tree.

Bianca smiled. “You’ve been practicing.”

“If you wish to keep your title, you should do the same.”

“I didn’t think you were interested in being captain,” Bianca responded, glancing down at the edge of the blade resting against her throat before looking back up. “I figured the spotlight would be too bright for you.”

“I do not seek the spotlight. All I want is control, even if I have to endure the glare that comes with it.”

“Will you nick me if I bring up matters of the heart again?”

Wednesday took a step back. “Yes.”

***

The blood red ceiling-to-floor curtains in the guest bedroom Yoko and Divina shared were closed, and kept that way with three clothespins placed at the top, the middle, and the bottom. Their black silk sheets were haphazardly thrown onto the mattress, full of wrinkles and unstraightened edges. One of the pillows was torn at the seam, revealing a glimpse at the feathers inside. And several black scrunchies were littered around the bed, with Divina wearing a similar one around her wrist.

Wednesday couldn’t decide what was more horrific: the state of this room after one night, or the fact that she agreed to spend the afternoon in it. On second thought, however, it was a more preferable alternative compared to sitting outside, baking in the sun. And there was no way in hell she would let them set foot inside her bedroom.

“We could play kiss or slap?” Yoko suggested while everyone took a seat on the floor. “And by kiss, I don’t mean on the lips…unless you want to,” she explained with a haughty wink, untying the sleeves of her hoodie from around her waist, placing it on the floorboard.

“I’d want to,” Divina responded, sitting on top of Yoko’s hoodie when Yoko patted it with her hand. “With you anyway,” Divina added, smiling at Yoko.  

Wednesday raised her chin slightly. “If you insist on playing this insipid game, I will slap all of you. Twice, each round,” she warned, though by all, she wasn’t referring to Enid.

Kissing Enid on the cheek was equally out of the question, however. Wednesday would only do so in private quarters, once a year. Perhaps twice, when a countdown to midnight announced the beginning of a new year on this plane of existence. Assuming she could keep Enid by her side long enough to have that moment.

“I’m with Wednesday,” Bianca spoke up, putting her phone on the floor with the screen facing down. “We’re not giddy thirteen-year-olds exploring firsts at a party in someone’s cellar. And I only kiss people on the cheek if it’s their birthday or when I’m congratulating them. So, if you want that kiss, invite me to your next birthday or wait until graduation.”

“That’s fair,” Yoko hummed, nodding. “And I’m definitely inviting you to my sweet eighteenth. With or without a kiss.”

“I don’t want to play this game either,” Enid said, running her fingers through her hair. “I mean, I would, but I don’t want to get slapped,” she added, eyes flitting toward Wednesday.  

Enid’s concern was misplaced, considering Wednesday would have let Enid slap her instead, should they have gone forward with this game. The mild physical discomfort would be bearable and bound to fade, whereas putting a hand on Enid to harm her would stay with Wednesday forever.

“How about a game of would you rather?” Enid suggested, sparing a small smile, which was a welcome improvement. Both on account of her idea and her smile.

“Sounds good,” Yoko responded. “As long as it doesn’t involve garlic.”

“Leave out anything family related, and I’m in,” Bianca said.

“I suck at that game,” Divina groaned softly. “In my experience, both options are either really appealing or really not, which makes it impossible to choose. But I’m in, too.”

“Wednesday?” Enid prompted. “Are you with us?”

Wednesday nodded. “Proceed.”

Hypothetical dilemmas were hardly thrilling, though it could be amusing watching the others squirm. Particularly if Wednesday was the one tormenting them, except for Enid, whose suffering was not enjoyable.

“I’ll go first,” Enid said, resting her hands on her knees. “Divina, would you rather get married tomorrow or never get married at all?”

“Tomorrow, tonight, in an hour…,” Divina tapered off, taking Yoko’s hand in hers, entwining her fingers with Yoko’s in a nauseating display of the romance between them. “In a heartbeat, I would,” Divina exhaled, gazing into Yoko’s eyes.

“My goddess,” Yoko responded, lifting Divina’s hand to her lips, pressing a kiss against the back of her hand.

“Get a room,” Bianca commented, rolling her eyes at the lovesick pair.

“This is our room,” Yoko pointed out, grinning. “For the weekend, anyway.”

The open display of the romance between Yoko and Divina, while vomit-inducing, was far less revolting a sight than that vampire putting her hands on Enid. Wednesday might even go as far as to root for Yoko and Divina, who should be roommates. It was strange that they weren’t yet, when Nevermore’s rule regarding couples sharing a room was widely disregarded.

“Wednesday,” Divina said, turning her head toward her. “Would you rather take one of us on a date or go out with Xavier?”

“Xavier and I will never be more than friends,” Wednesday stated, disinterested in such a connection with him. She had made that clear on numerous occasions, though she had no issue repeating herself to erase any assumptions of interest on her part.

“If I must endure a date, I choose Enid,” Wednesday decided, considering Enid was the only person whose company she could tolerate for a prolonged period of time.

“I know these scenarios are fictional,” Enid began while she tucked her hair behind her ear. “But I’d love to go on a real friend date,” she declared with a blinding smile. “We could get slushies at the ice rink! In Jericho, when we go back to school.”

“So close,” Yoko sighed loudly, smacking herself in the face. “But you’re too far away,” she added, frown turning into a smile as she pulled Divina closer.

“Girl,” Bianca said with a click of her tongue. “You’re practically attached at the hip.”

Wednesday observed the couple, showing symptoms of the curse that was love. Perhaps their connection was stronger than Wednesday had initially assumed, though she did not trust Yoko.

“It’s your turn, Wens-day,” Enid cleared her throat, but Wednesday had caught the subtle pause in the middle of her name, however brief it was.  

“Yoko,” Wednesday selected, choosing her first victim. “Would you rather die a slow, painful death, or die quickly without being able to say goodbye?”

Enid’s eyes widened. “Oh my God, Wednesday!”

“That’s morbid, Addams,” Bianca commented. “You should rethink therapy.”

Wednesday could see another psychologist, though the odds of the next one crossing paths with a killer were statistically speaking not in her favor. Without a murderer to hunt down, therapy was a waste of Wednesday’s time.

“I welcome the dark cruelty,” Yoko said, smiling rather than twitching. “And I’ll take the pain, so I can have one last kiss farewell with my beloved.”

“Aww,” Enid exclaimed while Wednesday was thinking along the lines of something beginning with ew.

Wednesday did not anticipate that she would be the one to suffer through this game, but this wasn’t over yet. Everyone had a weak spot, even Yoko. Perhaps Wednesday was targeting the wrong person, seeing how much Yoko clung to that siren of hers.

“Enid,” Yoko exhaled, and if she wished to keep her tongue, she would think carefully of her question. “Would you rather share a kiss with someone in the pouring rain or cuddle during a thunderstorm?”

“OMG, I love those options,” Enid responded with a soft gasp. “Both sound perfect, but I know I can’t choose both. And I’d prefer a kiss during a thunderstorm, but mixing is not allowed either, so…cuddling. I pick cuddling, because I’d still get the thunderstorm.”

Wednesday’s lips twitched, holding back a smile. She was surprised to learn that Enid shared her fondness for thunderstorms. Perhaps they could enjoy one together sometime, and watch a path of destruction unfold before their eyes.

“The second option, huh?” Bianca noted. “I must say I did not expect you to choose that one for the thunder. Aren’t most wolves bothered by those loud and sudden noises?”

“I’m not like most wolves,” Enid stated, shrugging her shoulders. “Thunder is wild and free. It can’t be restrained or bent to someone’s will. It just is. And when the sky roars, the wolf in me does, too.”

Beautiful, Wednesday thought while she stared at Enid.

“Bianca,” Enid chose, moving on with a smile. “Would you rather be a different kind of outcast or be a Normie?”

“That’s a tough one,” Bianca exhaled, picking up her phone from the floor. She glanced at the screen and put it down again, as though she expected someone to reach out to her. “Being normal is overrated, so I’m not choosing that,” she stated, and Wednesday agreed with Bianca. “And I don’t think I’d want to be a Fang or a Fur, no offense.”

Enid smiled. “None taken.”

“I get it,” Yoko said. “The idea of drinking blood must seem gross when you’re not a vampire or an Addams,” she winked at Wednesday.

Wednesday may have consumed blood on more than one occasion, though she was not the same as Yoko. For Yoko to imply that they were alike was despicable. Yoko could dress in black and indulge in the literature Wednesday had read, but that did not mean that they were cut from the same cloth.

“I suppose I would choose to be a DaVinci or a Vanisher,” Bianca decided, and Wednesday had an inkling as to why Vanisher had crossed Bianca’s mind.

Vanishers were capable of making anything they touched disappear. It was believed that they held the power to turn a building invisible when honing their full potential, though Wednesday had not stumbled across records of how long the invisibility lasted.

“Wednesday,” Bianca picked, facing her way. “Would you rather wear pink for a day or lose the fencing tournament?”

Wednesday’s lips pressed into a thin line, brows furrowing at the offensive choice between mockery and defeat. Wearing pink for a day would cause a reaction not even her allergy cream could fix, though she would never wear pink, even if she wasn’t allergic to color.  

“Fine,” Wednesday said icily. “I choose to lose the tournament.”

Bianca’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re really not a fan of color, are you?”

Wednesday bit her tongue. She could have chosen death, though she preferred a death that didn’t involve a medical emergency. And she refused to be caught dead in pink, for it would kill not only her physical body but her identity, too.

“Enid,” Wednesday selected for her turn, abandoning her earlier plan. “Would you rather spend Christmas Eve ice skating on the lake with me or spend it at a party with cake and gifts?”

“Oh, this one is super easy,” Enid responded, smiling. “I’d spend Christmas with you, no matter where we are or what we’re doing.”

“You two seem…close,” Bianca commented, gaze shifting between Enid and Wednesday.

“Very,” Yoko chimed in.

“Of course we’re close,” Enid confirmed. “We’re best friends. Right, Wednesday?”

“Yes,” Wednesday answered, looking directly at Yoko, “we are.”

Checkmate, leech.

*** 

Wednesday lifted her sheets and crawled under them. She glanced at Enid, facing her way as usual. Wednesday moved a few inches, gravitating toward the middle of her bed. Closer to Enid, without touching her. Opting to let her know that she was near while keeping her personal space.

The corners of Enid’s mouth curved up. Slowly, at first, and then all at once.

“If you say howdy, I’m sleeping on the floor tonight,” Wednesday whispered while she adjusted the sheets.

Enid chuckled softly. “It’s cute that you think I’d let you do that.”

“Let me?” Wednesday responded, arching a brow.

Bold of Enid to assume that she would need permission. Wednesday went wherever she pleased. Always had, always would.

“Yeah, I’m not letting you,” Enid doubled down as she propped herself up on her elbow. “If you climb out of this bed, I’m scooping you up and putting you back in.”

Cute, but dangerous. Enid’s brazen attitude was intriguing, though Wednesday would strongly recommend against such an action. She did not give anyone permission to lift her up or even think of attempting to do so. Aside from a medical emergency, where paramedics had to place her on a stretcher to take her to the hospital.

Wednesday’s uncle was the last person who had picked her up, though he had been warned not to tell anyone. He should not have helped her get down from that motorcycle. He should have let her stumble and walk away with cuts and scrapes rather than bruise her ego.

“You may scoop me up at your own peril,” Wednesday cautioned, calm but serious. “If I’m not unconscious, there will be consequences.”

“How about a compromise?” Enid suggested as she moved her pillow an inch closer to the middle, fluffing it up. Subtle, but not quite. Though she hadn’t broken the boundary. “You stay in bed and I won’t scoop you up,” Enid explained while she shifted under the sheets, within arm’s reach of Wednesday.

“Sorry,” Enid whispered, smiling apologetically when her knee bumped against Wednesday’s side.

“I accept your compromise,” Wednesday decided, though she never planned to sleep on the floor.

Enid wriggled again, keeping her limbs closer to herself.

“Hey, Wens, I’ve been wondering,” Enid said, brows furrowing. “Why did our friends get a guestroom right away, and I didn’t?”

“Staying for one weekend does not warrant redecorating a room.”

“I guess not,” Enid exhaled, chewing her bottom lip. “But it’s been three weeks. Don’t you think that’s strange?”

Setting up a room was a matter of days or weeks, depending on the occupant. Wednesday did not find it odd that a project of such a colorful magnitude took time, though it was unusual that nobody had been hired by her parents yet. Not even a painter to change the color on the walls from black to pink.

Had Enid grown tired of sharing a room with Wednesday?

“Not that I mind being here with you every night,” Enid said after a brief silence. “On the contrary, I really like being roommates.”

Wednesday pursed her lips. “Do you still?”

“I know it sounded like I was complaining, but I wasn’t. I was just curious,” Enid answered, shifting a bit closer, though it wasn’t clear whether she did so consciously or subconsciously. “I would never cheat on you with a room,” she added with a smile sweeter than sugar.

Wednesday felt herself smiling, though she didn’t care what her face looked like when nobody else was around. “Not even if it’s pink and filled with sparkling furniture?” she questioned, noticing Enid looking down at her lips.

“Honestly?” Enid exhaled softly, eyes flitting back up. “Once it’s finished, I’d probably sneak out to sleep in your room anyway.”

Wednesday was open to that arrangement. Enid’s room could suffice as storage space instead, for her wardrobe and her collection of stuffed animals. Perhaps the space where her bed would go would be better suited as an area where Enid could dance. Wednesday could request a mural to be painted there, as a gift to Enid, who was fond of unicorns, music, glitter, rainbows, and thunder.

“Good night, Enid,” Wednesday said while she crossed her arms across her chest.

“Good night, Wens,” Enid hummed, hugging her pillow. “Sweet dreams.”

Chapter Text

Enid put two slices of bread into the toaster and pushed the button. Waiting two minutes felt like an eternity when her stomach had been growling since she rolled out of bed an hour ago. And Enid would have started breakfast sooner if she didn’t have to find the perfect outfit for the final day of the sleepover.

She had chosen for a pair of soft blue leggings with an oversized light pink t-shirt that had a huge rainbow on the front, along with the words ‘good vibes only.’ Enid bought it last summer back in San Francisco, and took it with her to Nevermore before her parents found out that she bought something with a rainbow again. But Enid wasn’t with them now, so she could wear whatever she wanted without having to tone it down.

Enid also had a pair of really nice pajamas with rainbows, which she couldn’t wear for the next seven weeks unless Wednesday decided to let Enid wear color in her bed. So, fingers crossed that Wednesday’s rule would disappear like the pillows keeping them apart did.

“I brought my laptop with me,” Yoko shared while she poked a black metal straw through a bag of blood. “I figured you might want to see K-pop Demon Hunters.”

“No way,” Enid gasped, eyes widening as she stared at her friend, who did not just say what Enid had just heard her say. “And you waited until today to tell me!?”

Yoko shrugged and smiled. “There’s no time like the present,” she replied, putting her lips around the tip of her straw.

“Movie morning it is,” Enid agreed, smiling back at her friend.

Enid never had one of those before, because whenever she watched a movie, it was almost always in the evening. Sometimes in the late afternoon, right before dinner, especially on rainy days. But she definitely wanted to watch that movie, no matter what time it was.

“I’ll pass,” Bianca spoke up, stirring a spoonful of sugar into her coffee. “I’d rather go outside before I have to spend more than three hours on a plane to New Orleans.”

“You think three is a lot to be that far away from land and water?” Divina commented, nose wrinkling. “Try six.”

Enid reached for her toast when it popped out of the machine, smiling when Wednesday handed her a jar of strawberry jam. “Thanks, Wens,” Enid said before quickly adding, “day.”

God, Enid had to stop doing that with their friends around. Wednesday would kill her if Divina, Yoko, and Bianca started calling her Wens, too. And Enid wouldn’t like it very much either because it was her nickname for Wednesday, and Enid didn’t want anyone to copy her. The bond she had with Wednesday was special, and Enid didn’t want anyone else to get as close as she had.

“I have no interest in watching a movie either,” Wednesday announced before Enid had the chance to ask Wednesday if she wanted to join them or not.

Enid figured that Wednesday wouldn’t, but she would have loved to cuddle with her underneath a blanket. Not that Wednesday would have agreed to that even if she did say yes to watching a movie, but a girl could dream. And who wouldn’t want to cuddle their bestie?

“How about a rematch?” Bianca challenged, quirking a brow. “And this time, I won’t hold back,” she told Wednesday while she wrapped her fingers around her cup of coffee.

“First to draw blood wins,” Wednesday replied, and Enid couldn’t help but grimace at the thought of Wednesday getting hurt.

Wednesday was a skilled fighter, but Bianca was the captain, and she had already drawn Wednesday’s blood once. Enid would prefer it if they could tone down their competitive nature and keep their duel clean, for both of their sakes. But Wednesday was stubborn once she set her mind on something, and Enid had no sway with Bianca whatsoever to convince her what to do or what not to do.

“Mhmm, B negative,” Yoko hummed, licking a bit of blood off her fangs. “Which type do you prefer?” she asked while looking at Wednesday.

“The kind you’re too weak to stomach,” Wednesday answered, sitting down with a cup of coffee.

“Vampires are intolerant to animal blood,” Yoko replied, which all students at Nevermore were taught as part of the basic stuff they needed to know. “The smell alone makes me woozy, so don’t even get me started on the taste.”

“Wait,” Enid spoke up after swallowing a bite of her toast. “Do I stink?” she asked, raising an arm to sniff herself.

“No, you smell lovely,” Yoko answered, which was reassuring, considering vampires had the most powerful sense of smell of all outcasts. “But you do reek when you bleed,” she added with a slight grimace.

Enid got up and went over to Yoko to hug her, because Yoko couldn’t stand the smell of Enid’s blood and still went looking for her in the infirmary the night she got injured. Enid had no idea what she did to deserve more than one truly amazing friend, but she was very happy to have Yoko and Wednesday care so much about her.

“What’s this for?” Yoko asked, putting an arm around Enid.

“Being a good friend,” Enid answered, squeezing a little bit tighter, thinking how vampires weren’t easy to bruise.

When Enid let go so she could finish her breakfast, she saw Wednesday holding an apple. Or rather, a dagger she had apparently used to stab an apple with, which she was now eating straight from the knife. Jesus, Wednesday was going to cut her tongue if she didn’t watch out.

Enid kept an eye on Wednesday while she ate her toast, smiling every time she looked because Wednesday was looking at her, too.

After breakfast, Enid went with Yoko and Divina to their room while Wednesday went outside with Bianca. It would have been nicer if they all could have stuck together to watch a movie, but at least Wednesday was having fun, too. Plus, Enid could tell Wednesday all about it later and ask her how her morning was.

Yoko set up her laptop on the bed, propping it on top of a pillow, stacked on top of the sheets, which she had folded. Meanwhile, Divina revealed a soft, red blanket from her luggage that would be perfect to cuddle underneath. Divina also retrieved a bag of Skittles, which was a yummy treat and a great way to avoid getting crumbs everywhere.

Divina opened the bag and held it out. “Wanna taste the rainbow?” she asked, wriggling her eyebrows at Enid.

“Yes, please,” Enid answered, reaching for a handful of Skittles. “The red ones are my favorite,” she shared, finding two of them in the palm of her hand.

“Strawberry,” Divina nodded, smiling. “Not bad, but I personally prefer pineapple.”

“I second that,” Yoko hummed, sliding her left arm around Divina.

Enid stayed where she was, next to Divina, so Yoko could snuggle with her girlfriend while they all cuddled together. And Enid knew that Wednesday was having a good time in her own way, but she couldn’t stop thinking about how much she wanted Wednesday by her side.

“How are things going with Wednesday?” Divina asked, like she had read Enid’s mind. “Did you cuddle last night?”

“I wish,” Enid sighed, shaking her head. “But she did move, like, two and a half inches closer.”

“Two and a half inches, hm?” Yoko replied, flashing a smile.

“Yes,” Enid confirmed, aware it didn’t sound like a lot, but by Wednesday’s standards, it was a huge milestone. “And she didn’t say anything when I moved my pillow a little bit,” Enid shared, positive that Wednesday had noticed, even though Enid tried to play it off like she was just fluffing her pillow.

Maybe tonight, they could get two or three inches closer, and the night after that, until there was no longer an arm’s worth of space between them. Although at Wednesday’s pace, it would take longer than that, so maybe a few inches a week, with a chance of cuddles during the last week of their summer break.

“Here’s a wild idea,” Yoko said while she tipped her sunglasses down. “Ask her if she wants to cuddle with you.”

“I can’t ask her that,” Enid gasped, nearly crushing the skittles in her hand. “That would be like…like being told I can have one scoop of ice cream and asking for five scoops instead.”

Yoko grinned. “All I’m hearing is that Wednesday makes you think about dessert.”

“What? No, that’s not—I don’t—what?”

“Ignore her, sweetie,” Divina said, patting Enid’s leg. “She’s teasing you.”

“I’m going to pay for that later, aren’t I?” Yoko exhaled while she reached out and grabbed a hold of Divina’s tie.

“You bet,” Divina chuckled softly before leaning in.

Enid thought they were just going to kiss for like a second or a couple of seconds, but then Yoko cradled Divina’s cheek and ran her tongue across Divina’s lower lip, and OMG, that was…intense.

Yoko and Divina had kissed in front of Enid before, but not like that.

“Ugh,” Enid groaned, which caught the happy couple’s attention as they broke apart.

“I’m sorry,” Yoko apologized. “That was too much.”

“No, it’s—I just…,” Enid replied, shaking her head. “I’m so confused. Because it wasn’t like that for me. With Ajax.”

“Like what, sweetie?” Divina asked, brushing Enid’s hair behind her ear, which she thought was a really sweet and friendly gesture.

“Like…,” Enid trailed off while she tried to put it into words. “Like your kiss charges the air around you.”

Why wasn’t it like that for Enid? Did it really have to be a wolf for her to feel something?

“Maybe you’ve been kissing the wrong person,” Yoko said. “Or the wrong—” she stopped abruptly when Divina shook her head.

Enid frowned. “The wrong what?”

Species, Enid guessed, so maybe it did have to be a wolf to make her feel anything at all. But then, how come Freya was deeply in love with a siren? And how come other outcasts could mix?

For every answer Enid tried to find, two more questions popped up.

“You’re right,” Enid said eventually, nodding. “I should find a werewolf to be with,” she agreed, which would make her parents happy, and maybe her, too. “There has to be a really great guy somewhere.”

Maybe it would be easier for Enid to relate to another wolf, especially now that she had transformed and experienced all of this new stuff that she didn’t have to deal with before. Or maybe she needed to embrace the changes before being able to open herself up to a relationship, where every kiss wouldn’t feel like she was just going through the motions.

“Ma dai,” (come on), Yoko sighed, switching to a foreign language that Enid didn’t understand. “Hai una ragazza che muoverebbe cielo e terra per te,” (you have a girl who’d move heaven and Earth for you), she spoke so quickly that Enid wouldn’t be able to remember it to translate it later, even if she tried.

“Per favore, svegliati,” (please wake up), Yoko continued with an urgent tone, but it would be easier if she’d switch to English, so Enid could actually get what she was telling her.

She did get the per favore part, which wasn’t so different from por favor in Spanish, meaning please. But please, what?

*** 

When the sleepover was over, they all gathered by the front door to say their goodbyes. And in Enid’s case, to get some extra hugs in from her friends before Lurch drove them to the airport. Enid would have joined them, but she hadn’t spent any time with Wednesday yet today, and the ride back would be awkward and quiet.

Enid watched as Wednesday handed out a crystal ball to Bianca and another to Divina, and by extension, Yoko, Enid guessed, considering the fact that Divina and Yoko were staying together. It was sweet that Wednesday gave their friends something to stay in touch with her, though she was welcome to join Enid on a call sometime if she wanted to.

Plus, Enid had Bianca’s number now, too. She didn’t exactly remember adding it to her contacts, but maybe Bianca had put it in there and forgot to tell Enid. It wouldn’t be the first time that she got someone’s phone number that way, although they usually told her about it afterward.

“My touch acts as a conduit to establish a connection,” Wednesday explained. “You will not be able to reach out to me. Only a psychic can activate a crystal ball, as well as the one of the person they are reaching out to.”

“That should be interesting,” Yoko said, smiling while she put her arm loosely around Divina’s shoulders.

Enid knew exactly what Yoko was thinking. Calls that involved video and automatically went through were not ideal privacy-wise. Wednesday could accidentally witness Yoko and Divina making out, and Enid doubted that Wednesday would be happy to see that. Enid saw how disgusted Wednesday was every time Divina and Yoko kissed. Not in a homophobic way, of course – Wednesday thought all couples were equally gross.

Bianca shook her head and sighed. “You need to get with the times and get yourself a cellphone, Addams,” she commented, and Enid agreed that Wednesday should get a phone, but she knew that Wednesday wouldn’t.

Wednesday didn’t want to be a part of the digital age, or a slave to it, as she had called it. And she certainly would never be on social media because she thought that it was a soul-sucking void of meaningless affirmation. Enid remembered the day that Wednesday had said that really well because it was the first day they met, when she was giving her a tour of the school, and it was such an unpopular opinion that it was impossible to forget.

Maybe Wednesday could give Enid a crystal ball for their next break, so they could stay in touch. Or the break after that, if they were spending the next one together as well, which was likely. Enid couldn’t promise that she could spend their entire winter break with Wednesday, but she would definitely aim for half or three-quarters. Plus, Enid had a feeling that Wednesday would like that, too.

“I’m going to miss you guys,” Enid exhaled while she wrapped her left arm around Divina and her right around Yoko.

“Ditto,” Yoko replied, patting Enid’s back.

“We’ll text you before we get on the plane,” Divina promised. “And when we land.”

Enid gave Yoko and Divina one last gentle squeeze, smiling as she let go and approached Bianca with open arms. Smiling even brighter when Bianca met her halfway, and Enid loved that her circle was getting bigger. Plus, with Bianca’s number added to her contacts, Enid could text her this summer, too.

“Hug?” Divina asked Wednesday.

Wednesday said nothing while she took a step back, just like Enid had expected she would. Knowing Wednesday, she needed time to warm up to people, and even then, the odds of physical contact were slim.

Divina shrugged and smiled. “Not everyone’s a hugger.”

“How about a fist bump?” Yoko asked, holding out her fist in Wednesday’s direction.

“Touch me and it won’t be your fist mine will collide with,” Wednesday bit out, and her grumpiness was cute, but also a little bit scary.

“For a non-vampire, you sure bite a lot,” Yoko commented with a dry chuckle. “See you in seven weeks, Wednesday,” she winked, putting her sunglasses on. “Abbi cura della mia ragazza, o altrimenti…,” (take care of my girl, or else) she added, switching to what Enid assumed was Italian.

“La tua ragazza?” (your girl?) Wednesday replied with a raised pitch, and Enid liked hearing her speak in different languages. But she’d like it even more if she could understand what Wednesday was saying. “Scelta interessante delle parole,” (interesting choice of words) she added, and Enid did get the interesting part.

She just had no idea what Wednesday found interesting about whatever it was that Yoko said to her. Maybe they were talking about books again, but Enid needed them to speak English or Spanish to be sure. Which reminded her that Wednesday wasn’t aware yet that she not only understood Spanish, but spoke it fluently.

Oh, well, Enid would bring it up eventually. It wasn’t important right now.

“I will be in touch,” Wednesday told Bianca, who nodded at her.

Enid smiled, happy that Wednesday had bonded with Bianca this weekend. But Enid had this unshakable feeling that they had been doing more than fencing and talking, like they were working on solving something together. Which was fine, Enid guessed. Except that she was supposed to be Wednesday’s backup. Not Bianca, or anyone else.

But maybe Enid was jumping to conclusions too fast, because Wednesday wouldn’t leave her out like that.

***  

Enid combed her hair, thinking how much nicer it felt when Wednesday did it for her, but it would probably be too much to ask if she could. It already meant a lot that Wednesday brushed her hair for her every morning, so she shouldn’t push for more. But Wednesday had such a gentle touch, never pulling at knots, or handling Enid’s head in a rough way by yanking it back or anything like what she had experienced when she was younger.

Wednesday combed Enid’s hair like every brush was a kiss, tender and loving, and Enid would love to return the favor someday. If Wednesday allowed her to, of course. Sometimes, Enid felt the urge to touch Wednesday’s braids, so she could sweep them over her shoulders for her, or just to find out whether Wednesday’s hair was as soft as she imagined it was. Like right now, as she stood in front of the bathroom mirror with Wednesday.

Enid watched as Wednesday reached out to her side of the sink, grabbing that bottle with those weird pills she kept taking every day. Enid already saw Wednesday swallow two of them this morning, and two last night, and so on, like a pattern. Sometimes when she thought that Enid wasn’t looking, when she was rummaging through her clothes and noticed Wednesday from the corner of her eye.

“Remember when we were playing never have I ever?” Enid asked while her mind went back to that moment, thinking of one in particular. “I saw you putting down a finger when Divina said she has never been hospitalized.”

“Astute observation,” Wednesday replied, shaking two pills onto the palm of her hand. “I wasn’t aware anyone had noticed.”

“Are you kidding me?” Enid blinked, watching as Wednesday swallowed those pills without any water again. “How could I not notice you?” Enid blurted out, thinking how hard it was to miss any details of the person she was closest to.

Enid cleared her throat when Wednesday arched a brow at her.

“Why…,” Enid began, putting her hairbrush down. “Why were you in the hospital?” she questioned, wondering if there was a connection with Wednesday taking those supplements, or whatever it was that she couldn’t go a day or a night without.

Wednesday grasped the hem of her t-shirt and started lifting it. Enid’s eyes widened while she wondered if she was supposed to leave or if she was allowed to stay. Friends did get changed together sometimes, but Wednesday had never undressed in front of Enid before. She should probably turn around, right? Or at the very least look away.

In one fluid move, Wednesday took off her shirt, and Enid realized it was fine, because she was still wearing a long-sleeved t-shirt underneath. But then Wednesday reached for that, too. Her movements were slower this time, more calculated. And it shouldn’t be a big deal, but it kind of was, and why was she—oh.

Oh, Enid thought as Wednesday exposed her stomach.

Wednesday’s pale and otherwise smooth skin revealed a slightly pink scar, curved upward from her hip bone to her right side, stopping inches from her belly button.

“You had surgery?” Enid guessed, though it was clearly a surgical incision and not a stab wound.

Wednesday nodded and lowered her t-shirt. “When I was thirteen, both of my kidneys failed. I had a seizure and slipped into a coma on the way to the hospital,” she shared while their eyes met. “Four days later, I woke up with a new kidney.”

Enid had no idea that Wednesday was sick, and Enid was no doctor, but she saw enough medical shows to know that a transplant didn’t always work or didn’t always last. Wednesday’s body could still reject her new kidney, no matter how many years went by. It depended a lot on the donor, because a transplant from a family member had a much higher rate of success than one from a complete stranger.

“Does it hurt?” Enid asked, glancing down. “Your scar?” she clarified, chewing her lip.

“It can be sensitive during a sudden drop in temperature.”

“The lake,” Enid gasped, eyes wide, while she remembered pushing Wednesday into the water. “Wens, I’m—”

“You’re fine, Enid,” Wednesday interrupted with a soft exhale. “If I were in your shoes, I would have pushed myself, too.”

Enid cracked a smile at that. Wednesday was right, she did have that one coming. But Enid would have never pushed Wednesday in if she had known about her surgery. Enid wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she hurt someone she loved, someone she would do anything to protect.

“Permission to hug you?” Enid requested, holding out her arms.

The corners of Wednesday’s mouth twitched, hinting at that cute smile of hers.

“Permission granted,” Wednesday answered after a few seconds of silence, like she was weighing her options before deciding that it would be nice to have another hug. Which, in Enid’s opinion, was long overdue.

Good thing that Enid was naturally warm-blooded, so she couldn’t cause a sudden temperature drop that would trigger any kind of discomfort for Wednesday. Nope, nothing cold about Enid ever. Not even her hands in the middle of winter, when she gloved up just to match the seasonal look, and because it felt cozy.

Enid stepped closer and slid her arms gently around Wednesday’s waist before pulling her in. And if hugs could heal, she would hold Wednesday until sunrise.

Chapter Text

Wednesday wondered if hugging Enid was how soldiers felt when they came home to their families. It was undeniable that she had grown attached to the little wolf, who took up space in Wednesday’s head she wasn’t aware could be occupied by anyone. Despite her disdain toward sentimentality, however, she had no intention of vacating Enid from the room she had claimed as hers.

Otherwise, Wednesday would not find herself in her current predicament, browsing through aisles when she had a novel to edit and a daily training session to complete.

“I told you to remain inconspicuous,” Wednesday whispered, glaring at Thing as he pushed a small box across the floor. “And we are not here for a five-finger discount,” Wednesday added, reminding him that they did not steal from the locals. “Put that back where you found it.”

Shoplifting was not uncommon among the Addamses, and Wednesday wouldn’t bat an eye at any other location, but this was their hometown. They didn’t rob their people – figuratively speaking – or those who struggled to make ends meet and weren’t part of a larger corporate chain turning over a sizeable profit.  

“No,” Thing signed, climbing onto the box.

“Defiance?” Wednesday responded, arching a brow. “Bold choice for someone with only five fingers to lose.”

“I want one,” Thing demanded, tapping the box.

Wednesday’s brows knitted together. “Why?”

Thing shrugged. “You owe me for spying on the vampire.”

Wednesday did promise a reward if he kept an eye on Enid during the movie. However, Thing’s rapport was incomplete due to his lack of knowledge of Italian. On the other hand, his presence in the room was not discovered, and he did relay useful information. Such as red Skittles being Enid’s favorite kind of Skittle, and how she wanted to find a guy, specifically a werewolf, to be romantically involved with.

“Fine,” Wednesday sighed, crouching down to pick up the box.

When Wednesday sensed the sales clerk approaching her, she scooped up Thing and shoved him into the pocket of her coat.

“Welcome to Byte Buddy,” the young man said before flashing a smile he had no doubt practiced in his mirror to tick off one of his customer service boxes. “I’m Zane,” he introduced himself, pointing to the name tag pinned to his blue t-shirt. “And I’ll be helping you today.”

Wednesday clenched her jaw, withholding a comment that would make his smile fade quicker than the chemical dye in his clothes.

The clerk cleared his throat. “I see you’re looking at the Samsung Galaxy Z Fold 4,” he continued, glancing at the box in Wednesday’s hand. “Which is currently on sale for one thousand one hundred and ninety-nine dollars,” he announced with a cheery tone, as though it was a bargain rather than a waste of money.

“Interesting,” Wednesday responded, feeling Thing tremble in her pocket.

Despite the inflated price, Wednesday decided that Thing could keep his reward. As well as his fingers, without losing a fingernail. He would, of course, owe Wednesday for the remainder of the year and the five years after this one. No questions asked.

“The one you’re holding is the Phantom Black version,” the clerk shared, though Wednesday was capable of reading what it said on the label without him telling her. “Is this the color you want?”

“That depends,” Wednesday answered, glancing at the dark gray box that read ‘Fold’ in black lettering. “Is there a darker shade?”

“Phantom Black is the darkest one we have. We do have other Samsung models in this shade, if you’d like to have a look at those.”

Like was not a word Wednesday associated with this store and its products. Though as much as she wanted to pay for the one she was holding and get this over with, matching was out of the question. Wednesday did not need Thing to mistake hers for his.

Wednesday nodded curtly, following the clerk through the aisle full of torturous devices. And not the fun kind, either. But the objective was worth the cost of selling her soul.

“How about the Samsung Galaxy S23 Ultra?” the clerk suggested, pointing at a black phone that came with a strange pen. “It’s like a telescope in your pocket, great at capturing pictures, whether you’re snapping shots from something up close or something far away.”

“I do not snap shots,” Wednesday responded, staring at the rectangular device. “I snap necks.”

“Okay…,” the clerk chuckled, plastering on another disingenuous smile, though with no other customers around, his desperation to make a sale was real. “If darkness and doom are your thing, we have some skull cases I’m willing to throw in as a freebie with a purchase of a phone.”

Wednesday arched a brow at the offer. “Are they made from real skulls?”

“No,” the clerk answered, his voice a bit tighter than before. “Forget the case. How about a free data plan for six months?”

“Fine,” Wednesday agreed, solely to put a stop to the meaningless sales pitch. “I’ll take both.”

The Clerk’s eyes bulged. “Both would bring this purchase to a total of…two thousand two hundred and ninety-eight dollars,” he calculated, which was more than Wednesday had intended to spend, though she had no problem affording both.

Wednesday walked up to the counter and put her bank card down, which her father had given her, and could freeze at any moment should she use it to flee the country.

“If you hand me your old one,” the clerk began while scanning the boxes, “I can help you set up your new one.”

“I have never owned one,” Wednesday responded, though she wasn’t clueless either.

“Oh,” the clerk blinked. “I can walk you through it,” he offered, setting up the card reader for the payment.

Wednesday spent the next fifteen minutes, give or take, wishing to be anywhere else as she listened to the young man explaining every tiresome step of the setup.

“Your phone number will be 47—”

“No,” Wednesday interjected. “I want my phone number to begin with 628.”

The clerk scratched the back of his head. “How about 268?”

“628,” Wednesday insisted, unwilling to compromise on the decision she had made when she went to bed last night.

After a tedious game of did-I-stutter with the sales clerk, Wednesday left the store with her phone in one pocket and Thing testing out his in the other. Wednesday spotted Lurch across the street, fiddling with the radio in the car, no doubt searching for the heavy metal music that calmed him. He didn’t notice her, though Wednesday wasn’t going home quite yet. She had one more stop to make before returning to Enid.

Wednesday picked up her pace, opting for a brisk walk.

Thing climbed out of Wednesday’s pocket and made his way up to her shoulder, flicking her cheek.

Wednesday stopped and turned her head. “Try that again and I’ll start breaking fingers,” she hissed through clenched teeth, glaring at him.

“You jostled me,” Thing signed, pointing down at Wednesday’s pocket.

“You’re right,” Wednesday realized, and she hadn’t done so on purpose. “But if you get back in there to play with your new toy, then it’s on you,” she warned, resuming her walk.

Wednesday had no idea why Thing insisted on having a phone, though it didn’t matter. He could boil it in a pot for all she cared, which Wednesday had imagined doing to hers while she was in that store. Perhaps she would, although stomping on it and watching it crack would be more satisfactory.

Rounding the corner, Wednesday reached Yamada and went inside.

“Wednesday-san, so good to see you,” Yuzuki greeted, smiling as she punched Wednesday in the shoulder, awaking the dull ache of her healing injury.

“Right back at you, Yuzuki,” Wednesday responded, returning the gesture she had started a few summers ago.

“Table for two?” Yuzuki asked, raising her right hand, wriggling her fingers. “Hi, Thing. Long time no see.”

Thing waved back at Yuzuki and signed, “missed you, Yuki.”

“We aren’t here to stay,” Wednesday said, eager to end her trip so she could return home and check on her pets. “I’m here for an order to go.”

“For our favorite customer, we can do take-out,” Yuzuki nodded, and while Wednesday was aware it wasn’t a service they offered, she was willing to tip extra for the trouble.

“I’ll have the usual,” Wednesday requested, glancing at the top of the scorpion tail tattooed on Yuzuki’s chest, while the rest of the scorpion was hidden underneath her dark red blouse.

Wednesday saw it in all its glory once, last summer, when Yuzuki explained why her parents had grounded her. Yuzuki had falsified her identity to appear two years older than she was, after her parents had refused to consent. Wednesday respected her commitment, as well as Yuzuki’s decision to have a venomous creature etched into her flesh. Even if it was more about her zodiac sign and less about admiring scorpions.

“And one of everything else,” Wednesday added, looking up to find Yuzuki smiling at her.

Yuzuki’s smile wasn’t as warm as Enid’s, but it carried the same genuine, friendly intention.

“One of everything coming right up,” Yuzuki announced before disappearing into the back.

Wednesday pulled her phone out of her pocket and tapped the screen, looking for her list of contacts, so she could add Enid as her first one. Unfortunately, the device Wednesday had bought was different from Enid’s to navigate.

After a few tries where she somehow managed to take a picture of herself, Wednesday decided to try again during her drive home.

Yuzuki came back, holding three plastic bags. “I put in something extra spicy for you, heatseeker,” she winked, handing Wednesday two of the bags. “On the house.”

“You spoil me,” Wednesday told her friend, and while she had never claimed Yuzuki as such, they were friends.

“Not as much as I’d like to,” Yuzuki stated, handing over the last bag as well. “Something sweet for your sweetheart,” she explained, winking again. “On the house, too.”

“Thank you,” Wednesday exhaled, deciding that there was no point in correcting Yuzuki now when she had neglected to do so the first time.

And Yuzuki’s assumption wasn’t entirely misguided. Enid was a sweetheart. But not Wednesday’s beyond friendship.

***  

Wednesday opened her bedroom door little by little, smiling when she saw Enid sitting in the middle of her bed in the nightgown she had poached with her charm.

“I’m done hidin’, now I’m shinin’ like I’m born to be,” Enid sang, bopping her head to that ridiculous song she kept repeating, along with a few others from that movie she had watched. “We dreamin’ hard, we came so far, now I’ll believe. We—”

Enid stopped and smiled. “Oh, hey, you’re back,” she said while she got up. “Right on time, too, because I was about to start a search party.”

Wednesday’s lips twitched. “After your concert or…?” she questioned, closing the door behind her.

“I’m going to hug you now,” Enid announced while she approached with open arms. “In three…two…”

“One,” Wednesday counted, closing the distance between them.

Enid sank into Wednesday’s embrace, arms circling around her waist while she buried her warm nose into her cold neck. Wednesday jolted at the contact for a second, adjusting as she melted into the feeling. Enid was soft, barely holding on to Wednesday, as though she was scared to hurt her if she did.

Wednesday never wanted Enid to see her as a wounded animal. Last night, when Wednesday revealed her past medical issue, which nearly put her in the grave, she did so for the sake of honesty. Enid had asked her outright why she was hospitalized, and Wednesday didn’t wish to push her away.

“Did you stop for sushi?” Enid asked, sniffing Wednesday’s coat. “You smell…”

“Fishy?” Wednesday guessed, letting go when she felt Enid wriggling in her arms.  

“That’s not what I was going to say, but yes,” Enid nodded, taking a step back.

Wednesday raised the lapel of her coat and sniffed, not picking up on any particular scent.

“I brought takeout,” Wednesday explained, which she had stored in the kitchen to enjoy later.

Wednesday figured that Enid could use another lesson to learn how to eat with chopsticks, though she was welcome to use her claws as well.

Enid’s brows knitted together. “You spent…two hours…with Yuzuki?” she asked, tilting her head. “…for takeout?”

“No,” Wednesday corrected, reaching into her pocket. “I spent half of that time buying a cellular device.”

“Wait…you actually bought a phone?” Enid gasped, eyes widening. “A real, functioning one?”

Wednesday pulled the evidence out of her pocket and showed it to Enid.

Enid stared at it and chewed her lip. “Did you buy one because Bianca told you to get one?” she asked, glancing up from the Samsung something-something, meeting Wednesday’s eyes.

“I can see why you would assume that,” Wednesday answered, considering her timing. “And while it can be a convenient way to communicate without drawing my energy as a conduit, that is not why.”

“I can’t believe you bought a phone. You. Wednesday Friday Addams.”

Wednesday narrowed her eyes. “How do you know my middle name?”

“Um, okay, so…your mother told me. But I didn’t know it was supposed to be a secret.”

“Did you tell anyone?” Wednesday questioned, thinking back to Yoko mocking her over the phone.

“Not a soul,” Enid answered, shaking her head profusely. “I swear,” she added, crossing her fingertip across her chest. “Anything your mother tells me stays between us.”

Wednesday stored that information in the back of her head for later. Knowing her mother, she told Enid about the nursery rhyme that she was named after, and how Friday was added as her middle name, considering she was born on a Friday. What Wednesday didn’t know, however, was what other details her mother had shared about her.

“What’s your number?” Enid asked, grabbing her phone. “If you give me yours, I can text you, so you’ll have mine, too.”

“I’m familiar with your number,” Wednesday responded, already having added Enid to her contacts during her ride back.

Well, technically, Thing did it for Wednesday. His quick fingers figured out how to navigate the overpriced piece of technology and showed it to her.

“Oh, right,” Enid nodded and smiled. “Can I be familiar with yours, then?”

Wednesday scooted closer, looking over Enid’s shoulder while she typed.

“Hmm,” Enid hummed, scrolling through insipid little pictures, passing by the pink heart she gave Yoko. “This one,” Enid mumbled, selecting the black heart. “And this one,” she added, choosing a second emoji.

“A burning candle?” Wednesday questioned, staring at the emojis behind her name.

“Yup,” Enid answered, smiling in that disarming way of hers. “To represent the warmth in your heart.”

“That’s ridiculous. There is no warmth in my cold, black heart.”

“Deny it all you want,” Enid said, shrugging a shoulder. “But I see right through you,” she claimed, which was an interesting thing to say for someone who was aware yet oblivious at the same time.

If Enid saw Wednesday as clearly as she thought she did, Enid would know that living with one kidney wasn’t the most detrimental thing to Wednesday’s health. Her allergy was a death sentence without her prescription, especially with the amount of color bleeding into her black and white life.

“What’s your number?” Enid asked again, fingertip hovering an inch from her screen.

“628,” Wednesday recited, staring at the silly candle. “2006.”

“…06,” Enid repeated, typing in the last digits. “Got it.”

Wednesday saw that the photograph Enid took of the two of them out in the garden was still her wallpaper. Meanwhile, Wednesday’s was an uninteresting purple orb, though she had no intention of staring at an image of herself every time she unlocked her phone.

“You saw mine,” Enid said while she looked up from her phone. “Or well, yours,” she continued, smiling. “So, show me how you added mine to yours.”

“Enid.”

“Yes?” Enid asked, smiling brighter.

“No,” Wednesday responded, holding up her phone. “Enid.”

“That’s it?” Enid commented, frowning. “No emoji?”

*** 

Wednesday’s boots crunched against the gravel covering the soil as she entered the botanical garden. The weeping angel statue’s wings were covered in a blanket of thorns and wilted roses, the stone beneath cracking as it suffocated under the pressure. A collection of poisonous plants loomed behind the withering angel, thriving in their serene, macabre paradise.

The Black Dahlias Wednesday dug into the garden bed three years ago were still there. Its skull ornaments now inhabited by a collection of spiders. Wednesday’s fingertips brushed the petals of her flowers, inhaling the comforting scent of decay and damp earth.

“Hello, darling,” her mother called out from the center of her garden.

Wednesday’s eyes snapped up. “Hello, Mother,” she responded, dropping her hand. “I must speak with you,” she urged while she approached until there were only a few paces between them.

It was close enough for a quiet conversation and to extend the proverbial white flag.

“About Enid,” Wednesday revealed, straightening her spine.

Her mother fed her flytrap one of the spiders from her garden. Cleopatra, as the carnivorous plant was called, accepted a tender pat from her mother, leaning into her touch. Wednesday, while averse to physical contact, understood the tether between them. She had a similar bond with Erebus and Nyx, whom she considered to be her children, just as her mother saw Cleopatra as her child.

Perhaps the third child Aunt Ophelia told her mother she wouldn’t outlive was in reference to Cleopatra. Nonetheless, Wednesday couldn’t allow her premonition to come to pass.

“I’m listening,” her mother declared as they faced one another.

Wednesday raised her chin slightly, deciding to skip the preamble. “I want Enid to stay,” she stated, once and for all. “Indefinitely, that is.”

“I see,” her mother hummed, smiling.

“She belongs here with me,” Wednesday voiced, despite the sentimentality. “I need her by my side to ensure her safety. And to that end, I no longer require separate chambers.”

“Enid is welcome here as often as she wishes,” her mother responded, which rang true considering the key she had given Enid on her birthday. “And if you’re comfortable with her sleeping in your room, I have no reason to move her into another one.”

Wednesday thought about her idea to repurpose Enid’s room.

“I have one more request,” Wednesday shared, and she had the feeling she was exposing the innermost secrets of her soul.

But Wednesday couldn’t do this without her mother. She needed her, now more than ever. Deep down, Wednesday always had. 

Wednesday lost track of time discussing Enid’s room at great length. When Wednesday left to meet up with Enid in the kitchen, the blue sky had turned black, revealing the bright and slightly larger moon as it grew one night closer to being full.

“There you are,” Enid said, leaping down from the counter with the grace of a cat. “I thought you changed your mind watching me eat sushi with my claws.”

Wednesday’s mouth went dry at the thought. “Never,” she assured, opening the refrigerator to retrieve their food.

“Does this mean I can have another lesson?”

“Yes,” Wednesday confirmed, taking out the plastic bags and setting them down on the table.

“It’s a date!” Enid exclaimed, smiling from ear to ear. “I’ll get the plates,” she announced, jumping onto the counter with ease.

Wednesday rolled her eyes. “Ridiculous,” she whispered, watching the little wolf turn the kitchen into a jungle gym.

“I might be ridiculous,” Enid said while she spun around, somehow maintaining her balance. “But at least I can reach stuff you can’t,” she added with a chuckle.

Wednesday chose to ignore the cheeky remark rather than point out its inaccuracy. Enid was taller, yes. And as a wolf, she had certain advantages that Wednesday didn’t possess. However, Wednesday had climbed trees since she learned how to walk, so a mere kitchen counter was easy to hop onto.

Enid set the plates down while Wednesday grabbed her chopsticks and a couple of napkins. As they took their seats to eat, Wednesday wondered when she had fallen into this strange, domestic routine with Enid. Wednesday hated that she became a part of the cliché she despised, but she couldn’t find the strength to repel the one person outside of her family she liked.

“Ooh, candy!” Enid exclaimed, taking a handful of off-menu sweets out of the bag that Wednesday had put down in front of Enid. “And Kit Kats!” she gasped, reaching in with her other hand.

Wednesday grabbed the wasabi. “Did you know that Kit Kats are given as good luck charms in Japan?” she said while she plated her spicy salmon rolls.

“I didn’t, actually,” Enid responded, putting the treats onto the table. “Did Yuzuki teach you that?”

Wednesday nodded. “She used to give me one every time I had sushi,” she shared, remembering how Yuzuki handed her a different kind each time.

Enid turned her head. “Why did she stop?” she questioned, looking at Wednesday.

Wednesday’s lips twitched. “She gave up trying to find a flavor I’d like,” she answered, which was unfortunate, considering how amusing it was seeing Yuzuki’s smile slip every time Wednesday expressed her disgust.

“Okay, but there is one sweet thing you do like,” Enid claimed with a hopeful twinkle in her eyes that Wednesday would hate to stomp out. “And I won’t rest until I find what it is,” Enid declared, like the stubborn little wolf she was.

“Interesting,” Wednesday responded, though she knew it was impossible to find when it was never a what to begin with, but rather a who. “Extrañaré verte dormir,” (I’ll miss watching you sleep), she added in Spanish, staring at the person in question.

“¿Por qué?” (why), Enid whispered, smiling while Wednesday’s eyes widened. “No voy a ir a ningún lado,” (I’m not going anywhere), Enid added fluently.

“You,” Wednesday said while it dawned on her that Enid knew Spanish.

“Me,” Enid nodded. “Surprise, roomie.”

Chapter Text

It’s Friday, I’m in love, Enid sang in her head while she stood in the bathroom, facing the mirror.

And she was in love, more specifically with herself. Because after four weeks of fretting over her scars and trying to embrace them like proud souvenirs, her wounds didn’t just fade. They had disappeared, completely, restoring her skin to the way it was before that terrifying night, like it was nothing more than a horrible nightmare.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Enid exhaled with a smile, touching her cheek, which once had a claw mark so deep that she needed stitches. And the very second she did, she noticed she was no longer alone. “Oh, I wasn’t talking to you,” she explained while she turned around, looking at her roommate. “I was talking to my reflection,” she added, sticking out her thumb, pointing it at the mirror behind her.

“Not that you aren’t beautiful,” Enid blurted out when she realized she might have accidentally implied the opposite. “Because you are,” she said, from the bottom of her heart. “You’re so beautiful that I’ll be voting you as prettiest girl for our yearbook when we graduate. And deadliest, but emphasis on pretty.”

“Flattering,” Wednesday replied dryly, walking over to her side of the sink.

“It’s not flattery,” Enid stated, taking a page out of her best friend’s book. “It’s a fact.”

Maybe it was too much, but it was the truth. There were lots of pretty girls at Nevermore, but none compared to Wednesday. There was just something about her that nobody else had, something that called out to Enid. Plus, she had gotten to know Wednesday so much better the past four weeks, and found out that her cute smile wasn’t the only thing she had been hiding.

Wednesday’s personality – the real, unmasked version rather than the one she showed everyone to instill fear into their hearts – was just as beautiful as her looks.

Enid cleared her throat. “So, uh...how was your practice?” she asked, and she would have joined Wednesday outside if she had waited for her.

But Enid guessed that Wednesday needed some space sometimes to do her thing without Enid getting in her way.

“Not as satisfying as drawing blood,” Wednesday answered, picking up the comb she bought for Enid.

“I’d volunteer for a fight, but the full moon’s tomorrow, and it’s putting me on edge,” Enid said, feeling it in her veins, like her body wanted to wolf out already. “Plus, my skin literally just healed. I don’t want another gash staring back at me every time I look in the mirror or take a picture.”

Wednesday’s throat bobbed as she swallowed. “I would rather stab myself than wound you, Enid,” she replied, and the raw edge in her voice made Enid regret her words instantly. “And for what it’s worth,” Wednesday added while she reached out, “your skin is perfect either way.”

Enid moved closer, allowing Wednesday’s hand to touch her cheek, wondering if Wednesday missed her scars. But scars or no scars, Wednesday’s touch felt comforting all the same. Besides, physical contact was Enid’s love language, so Wednesday could never go wrong there.

“I don’t want to hurt you either,” Enid exhaled, shaking her head softly.

Enid chewed her lip, recalling the pain in Wednesday’s voice like she didn’t trust her when she trusted Wednesday more than anyone. Sweet, caring Wednesday, who helped Enid take a bath, cleaned her wounds, and stitched them up so she didn’t have to go through the trouble of going to the hospital and having her parents notified.

“Wens…,” Enid whispered.

“I know,” Wednesday replied, lowering her hand. “Está bien.”

Was it okay, though? Enid hoped so, because she’d hate to ruin what they had.

Wednesday raised the comb and leaned onto her tippy toes. Enid could crouch down a little to make her the same height as Wednesday, but it was cute how Wednesday tried to make herself a bit taller. And if she stumbled, Enid was more than happy to catch her and maybe tease her that she didn’t have to pretend to trip to get a hug. Although it wouldn’t be the first time for Wednesday to pass off touching her as accidental when it was very much on purpose.

“Enid,” Wednesday said mid-brush, gazing up into her eyes. “How many languages do you speak?”

Enid smiled at the question. She had a feeling that Wednesday had been thinking about her language reveal for the past four days. Wednesday had occasionally said something in Spanish, like she was testing whether Enid really knew Spanish or just picked up some lines to freak her out.

“Only two,” Enid answered, holding up two fingers. “And some French, but not a lot,” she added, dropping her fingers.

Wednesday arched a brow. “French?”  

“Yes, like, baguette, croissant, crêpe, macaron,… stuff like that,” Enid listed, and she could name a few more things, like the French word for love. But when it came to love, and the big ‘I love you’, Enid could easily say it in more than three languages. “Ooh, and moelleux au chocolat,” she added, licking her lips at the thought of the gooey, chocolaty dessert.

“Those are all food, Enid.”

“Not just any food,” Enid corrected with a shake of her head. “French food.”

Wednesday’s lips twitched. “You’re ridiculous,” she exhaled, and little by little, she smiled. “Qu'est-ce que je vais faire de toi?” (what am I going to do with you?), she whispered, and OMG, hearing Wednesday speak French made Enid’s thoughts go boom.

“You… French,” Enid said, still processing what the heck just happened.

“Surprise,” Wednesday replied, putting the comb down next to the sink. “Allons-y, petite louve,” (let’s go, little wolf), she added as she walked out of the bathroom.

S t o p, Enid’s mind screamed at Wednesday’s comeback, which was so smooth and hot that she needed to text Yoko immediately so they could gush about it together. But also, so she could ask Yoko what Wednesday had called her.

“Wait for me,” Enid called out while she hurried after her roomie.

Typing and walking didn’t really go hand in hand, but thanks to Enid’s wolf reflexes, she managed to text Yoko about the new development while only tripping once over a rug. And kind of a second time on the stairs when she missed the final step and stumbled into Wednesday.

Wednesday narrowed her eyes at Enid’s phone, but said nothing while she kept going.

Enid did tuck her phone away after that to avoid bumping into Wednesday again, and because they were headed to the dining room. It would be rude of Enid to be on her phone during breakfast with Wednesday’s family, and Yoko was probably still asleep anyway because of the three-hour time difference.

The second Enid walked in, Mrs. Addams offered her a large furraccino.

“Thanks, Mrs. Addams,” Enid beamed while she accepted the drink.  

“You’re welcome, dear,” Mrs. Addams replied, smiling kindly. “How was your sleep?”

“Really good,” Enid answered, smiling at how comfortable Wednesday’s bed felt, and how soft her sheets were.

Wednesday walked toward her chair and paused. “Squid ink soup?”

Enid joined Wednesday, glancing at the black liquid in a bowl in front of Wednesday, with pieces of squid inside. Meanwhile, Enid had a plate of waffles and another with eggs and bacon, which was way better. Enid hadn’t tried the soup yet, but it smelled too spicy for her taste, so she was pretty confident that she wouldn’t like it at all.

“Your mother has been in the kitchen all morning,” Mr. Addams told Wednesday, digging his spoon into his bowl, filled with the same dish.

Wednesday pulled her chair back. “Thank you,” she said while she glanced at her mother.

Enid smiled as she sat down, happy that Wednesday was starting to be kinder to her mother, who did so much for everyone. And Enid was aware that Wednesday had issues with her mother, just like everyone else, but Wednesday was really loved.

“Good morning, Thing,” Enid greeted him when he darted across the table. “I love your photoshoot on Insta,” she told him, though he might have seen the comment and the like she left.

“Do you like my new cuff?”

“Absolutely,” Enid nodded, picking up her knife and her fork. “It’s fabulous.”

“I have four new followers,” Thing shared, which was great. He deserved the attention for his sense of fashion. “Ajax sent a request to follow me, but I can block him.”

“You don’t have to do that for me,” Enid replied, shaking her head at the sweet but unnecessary offer. “Ajax and I are friends,” she informed Thing, although Ajax needed a bit more time to process their breakup.

“Yuki followed me back,” Thing signed, talking to Wednesday.

Enid frowned. “Who’s Yuki?” she asked, not familiar with anyone by that name at Nevermore.

“Yuzuki,” Wednesday answered quietly.

“Oh,” Enid whispered, and she didn’t know that they had a nickname for Yuzuki.

She didn’t even know that Thing knew her, but apparently, he did. So, the Addams family was probably closer to Yuzuki than Enid thought they were. Maybe Wednesday bought a phone so she could call Yuzuki and order sushi.

Enid took a bite from her waffles, suppressing a moan at the explosion of flavor on her tongue. But kind of failing to hold it in completely, because Wednesday dropped her spoon and stared at her like she just let out the most undignified sound.

Sorry, not sorry, Enid thought while she continued to enjoy her breakfast, confused that Wednesday was bothered by her making sounds, yet didn’t mind when she used her claws.

“Dad and I are going on a trip this weekend,” Pugsley shared, smiling from ear to ear while he poured ketchup over his eggs.

“That’s right, my boy,” Mr. Addams chimed in. “Just the two of us, for some good old father and son bonding time.”

Enid smiled at Mr. Addams making time to hang out with his son, but her smile slipped when she thought about how lonely Pugsley probably felt without friends to talk to. Maybe he could join Enid for lunch at Nevermore next year, so he wouldn’t have to sit alone. Because Enid knew what it was like to be the new kid, who didn’t know anyone and didn’t fit in with the others.

Pugsley could room with Eugene and befriend him, as long as he didn’t try to eat Eugene’s bees. Enid could text Eugene to ask him nicely sometime at the end of their break.

“We had to fire that interior decorator we found,” Mrs. Addams announced suddenly with a deep sigh. “He wanted to use silver furniture,” she shared, which was definitely a no-go in a room for a werewolf. “Can you believe the audacity?” Mrs. Addams bristled, eyes widening. “Silver! In our home.”

“We’ll keep looking,” Mr. Addams said, grasping his wife’s hand.

Enid could have sworn the Addams family had some silver objects, though she hadn’t seen any for a while. All of it just disappeared, like Wednesday that morning after Enid had told her about her painful experience with silver as a kid. It was too big a coincidence to actually be a coincidence, meaning that it wasn’t. And Wednesday really didn’t have to go through all that trouble, but it was super sweet and considerate that she did.

That interior could wait, though. Enid wasn’t in a rush to get a room of her own because she was comfortable sharing one with Wednesday, and Enid didn’t think she would be able to sleep without Wednesday by her side. Not when the sound of Wednesday’s heart beating safe and sound in her chest helped keep Enid’s nightmares away.

***    

Enid scrolled through her contacts, down and back up, again and again, while she sat in the empty tub. She meant to take a bath, but she’d actually have to fill it first and take off her clothes. Enid wasn’t sure if it would help her relax, though. Not when the full moon was happening in less than twenty-eight hours.

But on the bright side, Wednesday was safe, so Enid didn’t have to sink her claws into anyone and hope for the best.

“Okay,” Enid whispered, fingers pausing. “Maybe just a quick call,” she decided, thinking how she ended up with Freya’s number for a reason.

Freya did say that she could call if she ever wanted to talk, and Enid really needed to talk to another wolf. Because, as kind as Wednesday listened to Enid ranting about wolf stuff, Wednesday simply wasn’t one and couldn’t understand what Enid went through.

Enid pressed call and waited. And while she did, she thought about Wednesday click-clacking on that typewriter of hers in the kitchen. Wednesday said it was because she’d be able to sip coffee while she worked on her novel, but Enid had a feeling that Wednesday didn’t want to bother her with the noise during the bath she told Wednesday she’d take.

“Hello, Enid,” Freya’s voice came through when the ringing stopped.

“Freya, hi,” Enid replied, blinking while she tried to focus instead of daydreaming about her roomie. “Is this a bad time?”

“Not at all,” Freya answered, which was a relief because Enid didn’t want to be a burden. “What’s up, kiddo?” Freya asked, and Enid couldn’t suppress a groan at being called kiddo again.

Enid was seventeen, for crying out loud. She was not a little kid, unlike Freya’s niece.

“Is Isla around?” Enid asked, now that she was thinking about Isla.

“You just missed her,” Freya answered, which was unfortunate, because it would have been nice to hear what she had gotten up to today and if she had made any friends in Canada. “My sister and my dear brother-in-law picked her up ten minutes ago,” she explained, and Enid should have known that Isla was only staying with Freya for a short while. “They wanted her home for the next full moon to be with the other kids in the pack.”

Enid understood that, because it was pretty much tradition to gather the kids in one house during a full moon, while everyone else wolfed out. They would spend the night watching movies and playing board games and such, under the supervision of the oldest kids who hadn’t transformed yet. And sometimes they built forts with blankets and pillows for when they got tired or had to put the littles to sleep.

For the past two years, Enid was always the oldest, while others her age unleashed their wolf. But she wasn’t there now, so the biggest responsibility would go to the Lovell boys, who just turned thirteen, and would give Isla and the other little kids way too much sugar without Enid there to keep an eye on them. Unless the twins had wolfed out already, in which case the main babysitter would be Riley, the rebellious twelve-year-old, who set her bed on fire last year because she didn’t like the sheets that were on it.

“How do you handle full moons?” Enid asked, just out of curiosity what it was like for a wolf who wasn’t part of a pack. “Do you have to lock yourself up?”

“We don’t use cages here,” Freya answered, which sounded nice because Enid hated those things.

She spent the night in one once last year, shortly before her sixteenth birthday, thinking she would finally wolf out like every other Fur at Nevermore had. Instead, Enid had to listen to all of the others howling for hours and rattling their cages, so loud that not even her headphones drowned out the noise. Not to mention how being in there made her feel like a prisoner, like she had done something bad and needed to be punished.

“Werewolves are not wild beasts,” Freya said, though she clearly hadn’t met Enid’s brothers. Otherwise, Freya would know that some of them sure behaved like they were. “We feel an urge to hunt, but we are aware of everything we do and would never attack people without a proper cause, such as self-defense.”

That last part made a lot of sense to Enid, based on her one experience. Except that her urge to hunt was more of an urge to kill, like the only options were kill or be killed, with everything inside of her screaming to stop the monster so he wouldn’t go after Wednesday. Enid felt so much rage that night, but even more fear. Not fear of dying, although the idea was pretty terrifying, but fear of losing Wednesday.

“And to circle back to your first question,” Freya backtracked. “The night before a full moon, the wolves here at our Ohana trek deep into the Appalachian mountains, where we can roam freely during the full moon.”

“Oh,” Enid replied, and it sounded like going into the woods, only different. “You’re going into the mountains tonight?” she noted, so she probably shouldn’t stay on the phone much longer, in case Freya needed to pack or something.

“Not this time,” Freya answered, exhaling like she was tired. “I’m choosing not to wolf out so I can stay with my wife.”

“I don’t think I want to turn either,” Enid confessed while she fidgeted with her hair.

But Enid didn’t know if it was possible to ignore the pull of the moon and succeed. Supposedly, yes, in theory. And probably in reality, too, but Freya was the first wolf that Enid met who didn’t want to wolf out during the full moon. Maybe Freya’s instinct to stay close to her pregnant wife overpowered her wolf, suppressing the transformation.

Enid wondered if that was the answer, rather than trying to stay calm and hope for the best. But Enid wasn’t in a relationship with anyone. She was as single as a lone wolf, howling at the moon without someone joining her.

“Enid,” Wednesday called out a second before knocking on the door.

Enid turned her head. “Wednesday,” she whispered, climbing out of the tub. “Wednesday!”

“Enid!” Wednesday yelled, bursting through the door. “What—”

Enid wrapped her arms around Wednesday, only to realize how abrupt that was when Wednesday froze.

“Sorry,” Enid said, and she completely forgot that she was in the middle of a call, though Freya might have hung up somewhere between her dropping her phone in the bathtub and shouting her best friend’s name. “I just had an epiphany,” Enid explained while she let go.

“Care to elaborate?” Wednesday replied, which Enid very much did.

“You’re not just my BFF and my home, Wens. You’re the person I’d howl at the moon with. Because you’re my pack.”

*** 

Enid lifted the sheets and climbed under them, scooting toward the middle. She moved her pillow a little bit closer to Wednesday’s, and with a bit of luck, they could sleep side by side soon, without any empty space keeping them apart. And maybe, eventually, cuddle.

Wednesday fluffed her pillow, smacking the sides around like an angry gremlin before bringing her fist down in the center, giving it a good punch.

Cute, Enid thought, smiling as she observed her roomie.

Wednesday’s fists were small, though Enid didn’t doubt that she could give someone a black eye with them if she wanted to.

“Howdy,” Enid grinned, tipping an imaginary hat when Wednesday’s eyes met hers.

Wednesday picked up her pillow and threw it at Enid, hitting her lightly in the face.

“Okay,” Enid chuckled, grasping the pillow. “If it’s war you want, it’s war you’ll get,” she declared, smiling while she smacked Wednesday’s arm with the pillow.

“War?” Wednesday replied, revealing a knife faster than Enid could see where the heck Wednesday got it from. But if Enid had to guess, she’d say that Wednesday had it strapped to her thigh. “Are you certain about that?” she asked, holding the blade out in front of the light of her bedside lamp.

Enid looked at the glinting metal and raised her right hand. “Are you?” she retorted, extending her claws, which could slice through Wednesday’s knife like butter.

Wednesday’s pupils widened, making her eyes appear darker.

When Wednesday leaned toward her, Enid withdrew her claws before she had to explain to Mrs. Addams what happened to Wednesday’s hand, and rush to the hospital to sew Wednesday’s finger back on.

“Don’t touch my claws,” Enid warned, and she didn’t mean to growl, but a growl slipped past her lips before she could control herself.

Enid blamed it on the upcoming full moon, which made her mind feel like it was all over the place, and like she was somehow inside and outside her body at the same time. Ugh, Enid was so not ready for tomorrow night, not when everything felt so off.

Wednesday sat back and stared. “Understood,” she whispered, putting her pillow back.

“I didn’t mean to growl at you,” Enid sighed, biting the inside of her cheek.

“I liked it,” Wednesday replied, and Enid guessed she was telling the truth, but she didn’t expect Wednesday to like dominance when she refused to submit to anyone’s authority.

Huh.

Wednesday crossed her arms. “Good night, little wolf.”

“Good night, Wens,” Enid replied, hugging her pillow, wishing she could hold Wednesday instead. “Aishiteru,” Enid whispered the word she had just learned today, hoping she was pronouncing it right, although it wouldn’t matter if Wednesday didn’t understand her, even if she did say it right.

“Enid,” Wednesday exhaled while she sat up, putting her hands flat on the mattress.

“Mhmm?” Enid hummed, looking up at her best friend.

Wednesday turned her head sideways. “I speak Japanese.”

“Oh,” Enid whispered, guessing that the pretty girl from the restaurant taught Wednesday, or maybe Wednesday learned it to talk to Yuzuki.

“Are you proposing to me?” Wednesday asked, which was so not the next thing Enid had expected to come out of Wednesday’s mouth. “Is this why you chose me as your pack?”

“Hold on,” Enid exclaimed while she bolted upright. “I thought aishiteru was a friendly way of expressing…affection.”

Friends told each other they loved each other all the time, and Enid knew that it was a lot to say to Wednesday, but she didn’t think that she would take it as a marriage proposal. What the heck! It was just a simple ‘I love you’, in a completely platonic way. Because Enid did love her bestie, slightly more than her other friends, even. But that part she probably shouldn’t mention to Wednesday out loud.

“Aishiteru is used to express deep romantic feelings,” Wednesday explained. “It’s a serious and powerful declaration of eternal love. Hence, in Japanese culture, it is said during a proposal.”

Oh my God, Enid was going to kill Yoko.

Chapter Text

Wednesday opened her eyes, blinking at the sunrise filtering through her window. She moved her arms, uncrossing them so she could roll onto her right side and face the little wolf, who took up more space in Wednesday’s head with each passing day. Particularly after the events that had unfolded yesterday, with Enid’s epiphany and usage of a word she wasn’t acquainted with.

Enid’s hair covered a portion of her cheek, brushing the outer edge of her eyelashes. Wednesday slowly reached out, stopping an inch short of touching the colored streaks tangled with those that weren’t. She should take her Umbra mushroom pills first, though she refused to rouse Enid by making noise, however small. A couple of minutes wouldn’t hurt beyond temporary discomfort, in the form of an itch. Wednesday had endured worse hiccups.

Waking up to the sleeping little wolf every morning was a privilege that Wednesday refused to let go of. As the other half of Enid’s pack, however, Wednesday liked her odds. She could keep Enid satisfied by howling at the moon with her tonight. Though Wednesday wouldn’t sound as powerful, for she was no wolf. Her lungs weren’t accustomed to expelling loud noises, such as screams. But for Enid, she would catch the moon if she could.

Wednesday tucked Enid’s hair behind her ear, withdrawing when she saw the little wolf stir. Familiar blue eyes fluttered open, accompanied by the smile that made Wednesday want to bottle this moment so she could keep it forever.  

“Mmhmm,” Enid hummed, stretching her limbs as she rolled onto her back, foot touching Wednesday’s for a second and a half. “Good morning, roomie,” Enid whispered around a yawn, smacking her lips together in a way that would make Wednesday tape someone’s mouth shut after gluing their lips together first.

In Enid’s case, however, Wednesday might venture as far as to call it endearing.

“Good morning, Enid,” Wednesday responded, watching as Enid moved onto her side, an inch or two closer than when she was asleep.

Wednesday had noticed this pattern recurring each night for the past week, but it was morning now. She wondered if Enid sought to cuddle with her, although smothering would be a more accurate term. Wednesday wasn’t certain what held Enid back when she had no reservations during the first night they shared a bed. Respect for Wednesday’s boundaries, perhaps, though Enid occasionally forgot those existed.

When Enid’s right hand slid across the mattress, inching toward Wednesday, she stayed still and waited. Enid’s gaze flitted down, swallowing as she moved her hand more slowly. Wednesday watched, curious what Enid was up to. Enid stopped short of Wednesday’s hand, and when their eyes met, she felt a spark where Enid’s fingertips ghosted across hers.

Enid was an everlasting fire, setting Wednesday’s skin ablaze.

“Is this okay?” Enid asked, glancing down at Wednesday’s hand.

“Yes,” Wednesday answered, keeping her fingers motionless while Enid explored.

“Tell me when it isn’t,” Enid requested, though she need not worry. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Wednesday blinked at the soft admission. Part of her told her to get up and end this at once, but the other part told her to stay in Enid’s orbit. The latter was quieter, though the pull was stronger. Significantly so. Like a tsunami sweeping Wednesday off her feet.

Enid’s fingertips moved down the length of Wednesday’s fingers, unleashing a kind of torture that she was not familiar with as she shuddered at the touch. Wednesday was no longer piloting her body, it seemed. Instead, Enid had taken over, slowly and then all at once.

Wednesday’s skin prickled at the touch, toeing the line between pleasure and pain. She followed the path of Enid’s fingers, tracing patterns on the palm of her hand. Each one was random at first, tentative, searching, but then Enid’s touches grew more deliberate and precise.

“Are you tracing constellations on my skin?” Wednesday questioned. 

“Mhmm,” Enid hummed, repeating the pattern. “This is Cassiopeia,” she shared, moving her fingertips a bit slower. “She’s shaped like a W, which reminds me of you.”

Wednesday felt her skin react to Enid again with the familiar sensation of an itch. Time was running out for Wednesday to take her allergy pills, forcing her to get out of bed. She should have swallowed them before Enid woke up, but it was too late for that now. Wednesday’s precious minutes were up.

“We should go down for breakfast,” Wednesday said while she pulled her hand away. “My mother will wonder what’s keeping us,” she added as she climbed out of her bed.

“You’re right,” Enid responded, moving the sheets.

Wednesday opened the drawer of her dresser, grabbing her pills. She would need another refill in a few days, although her father did mention that her mother had a supply. Perhaps Wednesday could sneak into her parents’ bathroom to take a bottle. Then again, her mother would notice, and Wednesday could ask her. After four weeks, running out of her allergy medication wouldn’t raise any questions, considering her mother wasn’t aware that this was the second time it had happened.

Footsteps snuck up behind Wednesday, tiptoeing closer.

“Wens?” Enid whispered, touching Wednesday’s shoulder. “Are you okay?” Enid asked, squeezing gently before letting go.

Wednesday shook two pills onto the palm of her right hand and swallowed them. “I’m fine,” she answered, putting the bottle back into the drawer.

“I hope so,” Enid exhaled, grasping Wednesday’s necklace, running the pad of her thumb across the ‘W’. “Because I’ll kick your ass if you lie to me,” Enid added with a small smile.

“Understood,” Wednesday responded, and she had no intention of lying to her best friend unless doing so was better for Enid’s wellbeing.

***  

The temperature inside the Moonlit Manor was unchanged, and yet it felt warmer to Wednesday. She concluded that this was Enid’s fault, who gave off heat, even from six feet away. Erebus and Nyx wouldn’t mind, however, considering their fondness for Enid’s warmth.

“Ooh,” Enid said, putting her phone down on the table. “I forgot their pouch,” she explained, jogging toward the door. “I’ll be right back. Just give me ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes?” Wednesday questioned, and if Enid forgot where she had left it, Wednesday was happy to remind Enid in which chaotic part of her colorful pile she could find her knitted creation.

“Technically, I only need two,” Enid answered while her hand lingered on the frame. “But I need the rest to tell Thing to stop sending Ajax pictures of his middle finger.”

Wednesday agreed that Thing should not send those messages to Enid’s ex. Threats to scalp him would be much more efficient in keeping him away from Enid.

Enid closed the door on her way out, leaving Wednesday alone with Nyx and Erebus.

Wednesday glanced at Enid’s phone, wondering if that ridiculous burning candle emoji was still there. Perhaps Enid had changed it after her intense declaration of affection, although the extensive rant that followed clarified it was an error in translation. There was no romantic connotation behind Enid’s overtly friendly expression.

Wednesday had assumed as much, given how sudden the moment had occurred. She did question Enid on the manner, considering her previous impulse yesterday, when she embraced Wednesday and chose her as her pack. So, an impromptu proposal, while unexpected, wasn’t such a surprising leap.

Wednesday eyed the door and touched Enid’s phone, searching through her contacts. Oddly enough, Wednesday couldn’t find hers until she checked the list again and found the black heart and the burning candle above her number. Her name, however, was no longer in there. Enid had changed it to ‘cutie’, of all the possibilities she could have gone with. Dark cloud, for example, would have been an acceptable alternative.  

“No, no, no,” Wednesday said when she tried to go back but accidentally hit call on the contact below hers. “Stop this right now, you demonic device,” she hissed under her breath, pressing the red button to end it at once.

Wednesday went back to the home screen, gazing upon the picture Enid took for a brief moment before stepping away, shifting her attention to her beloved children.

“Got it,” Enid announced as she returned, holding up the pouch. “I—” she stopped and looked at the table, where her phone vibrated against the wooden surface. “Oh, Divina’s calling me.”

Reaper, take me. Free me from this plane.

Wednesday’s chest tightened, palms sweating while Enid reached for her phone.

“Hey, Divina,” Enid said, smiling as she held her phone to her ear. “I didn’t call you,” she stated, frowning. “No, really…I must have hit the speed dial by mistake when I put my phone down, I guess.”

Wednesday’s shoulders relaxed. She had to be more careful next time, before she got caught, even though she had done nothing wrong. Wednesday didn’t read any of the texts Enid sent back and forth with her friends, and she stayed away from Enid’s socials.

“Everything is fine,” Enid assured her friend. “Though I do have a bone to pick with a certain someone for setting me up,” she added with a huff. “Because that wasn’t funny. I can’t just say stuff like that to you know who.”

Was Enid referring to Wednesday? Subtle, as always.

“Yes, Wednesday is here,” Enid told the siren, nodding her head. She lowered her phone and smiled. “Divina wants to say hi,” Enid said, extending the device.    

Wednesday slowly accepted, lifting the colorful piece of technology to her ear. “Hello,” she breathed, uncertain what to expect.

“Hey, Wednesday,” Divina responded. “Someone wants to talk to you.”

“Ciao, diavoletta,” (hello, little she-devil), Yoko greeted in Italian, sounding too smug for Wednesday’s liking. “So cosa hai fatto,” (I know what you did), Yoko whispered, chuckling darkly. “So che sei stato tu,” (I know it was you).

Wednesday bit her tongue. “Cosa vuoi?” (what do you want), she asked, willing to negotiate a deal to buy the vampire’s silence.

“Il tuo numero,” (your number), Yoko answered, which Wednesday had only given to Enid, Thing, and Bianca. “E ogni tanto un messaggio di risposta quando ti scrivo,” (and the occasional text back when I text you), Yoko said, adding more insult to injury.

“Perché?” (why), Wednesday responded, keeping her expression and her voice neutral.

Enid tilted her head and frowned, presumably wondering why Wednesday wasn’t speaking English.

“Non mordo,” (I won’t bite), Yoko hummed, though her nature claimed otherwise. “…a meno che tu non voglia,” (unless you want me to), she tacked on with a light chuckle.

Wednesday’s stomach turned at the thought of Yoko putting her mouth on her. The idea of a vampire feeding off her wasn’t abhorrent, but she despised this one. Wednesday would rather let Yoko starve than have her taste a drop of her blood.

“Sto scherzando,” (I’m kidding), Yoko said after a few seconds of silence. “Più o meno,” (kind of), she added, playing with fire, and if she kept up this attitude all summer, Wednesday might lace her blood supply with garlic.

“Va bene, puoi avere il mio numero,” (fine, you can have my number), Wednesday bit out. “Addio, sanguisuga,” (goodbye, leech), she said, ending the call at once.

Wednesday never claimed that she would give Yoko her number right away. The vampire could wait to receive her end of this strange bargain, though it remained unclear why she bartered for Wednesday’s phone number. If Yoko was somehow under the notion that Wednesday would engage in casual conversation with her, then she was sorely mistaken.

“Um…did you just hang up on our friends?” Enid asked, blinking while she took her phone back.

“I hung up on Yoko,” Wednesday corrected, who was not her friend. “She was testing my patience,” she admitted without giving too much away about what had happened.

“She can be a bit cheeky, but that’s just Yoko being Yoko,” Enid responded, shrugging a shoulder.

Wednesday approached the tree and raised her arms, palms upward, to catch her children as they glided through the air. Nyx landed on top of Wednesday’s left hand, using her thumb as an anchor. Erebus, on the other hand, grabbed onto one of her braids.

Enid covered her mouth and laughed.

“Not a word,” Wednesday warned, sighing as Erebus climbed up her braid. “A hand, if you please?”

“Help is on the way, roomie,” Enid responded, smiling as she rushed toward Wednesday.

Enid touched Wednesday’s braid, trying to pry Erebus loose, although she had the feeling that Enid wasn’t trying very hard. It was almost as though Enid was admiring her hair as those blue eyes of Enid traced the length of Wednesday’s braid.

“Enid?” Wednesday prompted, watching Enid’s eyes snap up to meet hers.

“Sorry,” Enid mumbled while her cheeks turned a soft shade of pink. “I don’t want to squish our son, so I need to take this slow and gentle.”

“You apologize too much,” Wednesday noted, and there was no need for Enid to apologize to her.

“I’m—” Enid stopped when Wednesday arched a brow. “Right,” Enid said, clearing her throat. “I suppose I do,” she nodded, sighing. “And I still feel like I should apologize for apologizing, and I know that doesn’t make any sense, but it’s just who I am. I guess.”

“Or who I became,” Enid added a beat later. “You know, growing up with a mother who constantly berates me just for existing, as if I asked to be born in a family that treats my differences like major flaws.”

“Ugh,” Enid groaned while she scrambled back a step and then another, bumping against the tree. “I…I don’t know what’s happening,” she said, lifting her arms, staring at her claws. “My teeth are aching and I… I don’t…I’m so confused.”

Without giving it a second thought, Wednesday slid her free arm around Enid’s waist, letting her other arm rest by her side to avoid crushing Nyx in their embrace.  

“I’m here,” Wednesday whispered, holding Enid as tightly as she could.

“Wens…,” Enid exhaled, burying her nose in Wednesday’s neck.

“I got you, Enid,” Wednesday promised, stomach clenching when warm tears touched her skin. “I’m sorry,” she added, wishing she could take her comment back.

“W-why are you sorry?”

“For upsetting you.”

“It’s not your fault,” Enid said while she hugged back. “You didn’t choose my mother any more than I did.”

***  

The scent of espresso filled the air as Wednesday poured four shots over the ice skull cubes in her mug. It was her third serving today, though she didn’t care. The caffeine kept her alert and able to stay awake all night, should she need to, in case Enid got lost in the woods tonight.

Wednesday had prepared a backpack with essentials for such an occurrence, carrying spare clothes, a blanket, a medical kit, a flashlight, a flask filled with water, and more snacks than a child trick-or-treating on Halloween could collect in one night.

Enid sat at the kitchen table with one cheese and ham sandwich on the plate in front of her and another in her left hand. She held her phone in her right hand, typing while she covered herself in crumbs.

Wednesday moved to the other side of the table, observing the little wolf. Enid’s fingers were fast, tapping her screen as though she was sharing a novel. Wednesday wondered who Enid was interacting with, and what she was telling them.    

“Yoko’s asking for your number,” Enid said around a bite of her sandwich. “Is it okay if I share it with her?”

No.

“Yes,” Wednesday answered, raising her mug to her lips.

“Great, I’ll text it to her right now!” Enid exclaimed, swinging her legs back and forth underneath the table. “And if I can share it with Divina too, we can make a group chat,” she continued, looking up with a smile one couldn’t say no to without enabling the kicked puppy pout. “Just the four of us, and Bianca, if she wants to join.”

Wonderful, Wednesday and Bianca could suffer together then.

“No boys allowed, of course,” Enid added a beat later. “We can always make another group chat with them.”

Wednesday felt her phone vibrate against her chest. She reached into the top of her dress, pulling the device out of her bra where she had it trapped under the wire.

Enid made a strange, strangled type of noise.

“Was your phone in there this whole time?” Enid asked, working her jaw.

Wednesday nodded, though she had no other choice. Neither her dress nor her leggings came with pockets, and Wednesday preferred to keep her phone on her person. She couldn’t allow anyone the opportunity to snoop by leaving it unattended. There was a private conversation with Bianca regarding the cult she had escaped, which nobody was permitted to read.

Unlocking her phone with her thumb, Wednesday looked at the message she had received. Interesting number, it read, sent by an unfamiliar number. Yoko’s, no doubt.

Wednesday rolled her eyes at the remark, choosing to ignore the vampire’s poking rather than entertain her. Wednesday added Yoko to her contacts, saving her number under ‘leech’. And now that she was on her phone, Wednesday decided to change ‘Enid’ to ‘little wolf’, followed by a moon and a thunder emoji. It suited Enid, who had expressed her admiration for thunderstorms.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t one tonight, or any of the following nights that Wednesday knew of.

“The moon will be full soon,” Wednesday said while she checked the time. She locked her phone and tucked it back in her bra, feeling the cold metal casing touching her skin. “We should go outside.”

Enid dropped what was left of her sandwich and stared blankly ahead of her, hand frozen mid-air.

“Enid?” Wednesday frowned, putting her mug down on the table.

Had she somehow upset Enid without meaning to again?

Wednesday wasn’t certain whether it was something she had said or done, or something someone had messaged Enid. If it was the latter, Wednesday was ready to sharpen her hatchet. The non-metaphorical kind.

“I…,” Enid slowly opened and closed her mouth.

Wednesday walked around the table, moving closer to Enid, should she need another hug.

“I don’t want to go outside,” Enid exhaled, shaking her head. “I’m just not feeling it, I guess.”

“You can talk to me,” Wednesday responded while she reached out, taking Enid’s hand in hers.

A smile tugged at Enid’s lips, but it didn’t last longer than a second.

“I don’t want my bones to snap,” Enid shared, scrunching up her nose as she grimaced. “It hurts. And they say it’ll hurt less over time, but I don’t want it to hurt at all. Because pain is really unpleasant,” she explained, wincing as though she was reliving her memory of that particular night.

“And I don’t want to hunt some unfortunate creature in the woods,” Enid continued. “Like a squirrel or a big cat, or a regular wolf, seeing me as a threat to their territory. Because if I wasn’t a carnivore by nature, I’d probably be a vegetarian,” she blurted out, speaking faster than she did a few seconds ago. “But werewolves need meat to survive like vampires need blood.”

Wednesday caressed the back of Enid’s hand, uncertain how to help her silence her inner turmoil. Enid was fond of touch, so perhaps this would be enough. Wednesday hated seeing her best friend in agony, and if she could absorb every ounce of Enid’s pain, she would. In a heartbeat.

“I’m not ready to wolf out tonight, Wednesday,” Enid said, voice bordering on a whimper. “It’s too soon.”

“You don’t have to transform,” Wednesday assured, squeezing Enid’s hand with a fraction of the strength of the invisible force squeezing her heart. “As much as I admire your wolf, I would never force you, Enid.”

Wednesday couldn’t bear the thought of Enid thinking that she would push her to wolf out. Wednesday would never think less of Enid for choosing not to, even if she denied her wolf for the remainder of her life. Enid was still the brave, fierce little wolf she always had been, long before the blood moon.

Enid laced her fingers with Wednesday’s and smiled up at her. “Can we go to your room?” Enid asked while she got up from her chair. “I swear I’ll get out if something happens.”

Wednesday stared at their joined hands and nodded.

On their way up, Enid swung their arms together. It seemed a tad juvenile, though, as long as it made Enid smile, Wednesday was not inclined to put a stop to this. Besides, with her father and brother away for the weekend, and her mother wallowing in her botanical garden, there was nobody to run into, except Thing. His silence, however, was thoroughly bought.  

Wednesday let Enid get changed in the bathroom first, watching as Enid emerged in her nightgown. Wednesday tore her gaze away from Enid and made quick work of putting on her gown. By the time Wednesday went back into her room, Enid had settled into her bed.

“Saved you a spot,” Enid called out, patting the space to her left.

“In my own bed?” Wednesday responded dryly. “How generous.”

Enid bit back a smile and lifted the sheets. “Hop in, roomie.”

Wednesday approached her side of the bed and climbed in. She noticed Enid was the slightest bit closer to the middle compared to this morning, though not close enough to smother her. Wednesday wasn’t certain if she could deny Enid the suffocating physical contact of cuddling tonight if she asked. Wednesday hoped she wouldn’t have to find out if she could remind Enid that the boundary was still there, or pretend that it wasn’t.

The last thing Wednesday wanted was to push Enid away. It was unbearable seeing Enid in pain.

Enid moved her hand across the mattress, without hesitation or pause. Wednesday allowed Enid to seize hers, granting her this small, acceptable touch.

“I like listening to your pulse,” Enid commented while she caressed the inside of Wednesday’s wrist with her thumb. “You ground me,” Enid added with a soft exhale. “And when I’m with you, the storm doesn’t seem that bad.”

Wednesday reached out with her free hand. “I will always be with you, Enid,” she vowed, extending her little finger.

“The feeling is mutual,” Enid hummed, wrapping her finger around Wednesday’s.

Wednesday arched a brow. “Stealing my line, are we?” she noted, withdrawing her hand once her finger was free.

“Mhmm, and that’s just the beginning,” Enid claimed, smiling. “I’m going to steal your sheets next.”

Wednesday’s brows knitted together. “My sheets?”  

“To take with me to Nevermore.”

“Your bed is too small for my sheets,” Wednesday pointed out, wondering if Enid wanted to turn their singles into a double. If so, Enid’s side wasn’t feasible due to the excessive amount of color that Wednesday would be exposed to.

“It is, but not if I wrap your sheets around me like a burrito,” Enid responded with a light chuckle. “Which I guess makes me the burrito.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Wednesday said, smiling at Enid mentioning food while planning a heist. Though there was no need for thievery when Wednesday was willing to give her sheets to Enid.

“Maybe,” Enid responded, smiling from ear to ear. “But you love me anyway.”

Chapter Text

Enid walked out into the hall, smiling when she got a text from Freya. Just the person Enid was thinking of messaging this morning. Or technically the second person, considering she had already sent Wednesday ‘good morning <3’ not long after she heard Wednesday sneak out of the room.

“Hello, Enid,” Freya’s text read. “How are you holding up? Did you stay with your pack last night?”

Enid frowned at the last part of Freya’s message, because Freya knew that she was staying with the Addams family, many miles away from San Francisco. But then it dawned on Enid that she was on the phone with Freya when she dropped it in the tub. Because Enid had to hug Wednesday and share her epiphany about Wednesday being her pack.

Oh, God, Freya must have still been on the line and overheard her. Which, duh, wolf hearing! But Enid really thought that the call had disconnected or that Freya had hung up the second she yelled Wednesday’s name, loud enough to alert everyone inside the house. And Enid didn’t regret her words one bit, but she wasn’t ready to share that Wednesday was her pack now with others, specifically wolves.

“You won’t tell anyone, right?” Enid messaged back, chewing her lip as she did.

“I won’t tell a soul,” Freya replied, and Enid knew in her gut that she could trust Freya. “You have my word, Enid.”

“I did stay with Wednesday,” Enid texted, smiling at the memory of last night. “It was a lot easier than I thought not to wolf out, thanks to her. She keeps me grounded.”

Freya answered within seconds. “A sawolgefēra has that effect.”

“I don’t know that word,” Enid admitted while she replied, and she had no idea what language it was either. “What does it mean?” she asked, and she could look it up, but she doubted that Freya would give her a false translation. Unlike Yoko, when she brought up ‘aishiteru’, which was so not platonic.

“It’s an old English term I learned from a powerful bloodline,” Freya explained, which sounded cool, like maybe her community up in Canada had outcasts Nevermore had never seen. “It means soul companion.”

Oh, okay, Wednesday was definitely that. They were soul friends through and through, like Thelma and Louise.

Enid nearly dropped her phone when it rang in the middle of typing a text to ask Freya how her night had been. Not just because it was polite to ask, but because Enid genuinely wanted to know. Her eyes widened as she stared at the caller ID, showing that it was her mother, of all people.

“Fuck,” Enid exclaimed while she sprinted down the stairs, jumping the final five steps. She landed on her toes, rocking back onto her heels as she reached for the front door, pulling it open. “One minute,” she sighed, walking out onto the driveway.

Why was her mother calling her right now, at two minutes past eight in the morning? Enid guessed this was less about that one call a week her mother had demanded but seemed to have forgotten, and more about the full moon last night. The one where Enid didn’t even wolf out, because she didn’t want to shift so soon after what happened at Nevermore.

Not that her mother would understand or accept that she ‘refused to be normal’, like her mother would say. And Enid really didn’t feel like getting into all of that with her family. They weren’t there. They didn’t feel what Enid felt, or how much Wednesday meant to her. How she would take a bullet for Wednesday, even if it was made out of silver.

Enid missed the call by a second and immediately called back, realizing too late that Wednesday was training and would be disturbed by her pacing around while talking. Except, Wednesday wasn’t out there at all, when Enid could have sworn that Wednesday went into the garden to throw knives at targets or practice her fencing moves. Maybe Wednesday took a break to get herself some coffee, because her scent definitely confirmed that she did go outside.

“Morning, honey,” her mother said cheerily when she picked up.

“Good morning, Mom,” Enid replied, hoping it would still be a good one in about five minutes.

“Did you wolf out last night?”

“Yeah, I did,” Enid fibbed to avoid an argument. “Good thing there are woods here, too,” she added, and she could take a few pictures of those if her mother wanted evidence.

“That’s wonderful, honey,” her mother said, so far so good. “Did you kill any animals?”

I maimed a Hyde, does that count?

“No,” Enid answered, because that part she didn’t want to lie about. “I just wanted to see how fast I could run, you know. I’m still new to this,” she explained, which was what she probably would have done if she had wolfed out.

“Okay, but hunt something next time,” her mother replied with a demanding tone in her voice, like it was an order and not so much a suggestion. “You don’t want to be a weak wolf, do you?”

Enid swallowed at the comment, and she knew she wasn’t weak, but her mother seemed to think so. Everyone back in San Francisco did, aside from the Grays. Even her dad thought that she was weak, because he always agreed with her mom and never defended her. Enid was the late bloomer, who took longer than others to wolf out.

But Enid wasn’t weak. She was strong and brave and fierce. Wednesday said so, and she wouldn’t make that up just to make Enid feel better. Plus, she was big when she turned, like maybe it took as long as it did because her wolf needed time to grow.

“Your brothers took down a bear,” her mother boasted as if they had won some kind of trophy.

“That’s…great,” Enid said, but really, she just felt sorry for the bear being killed for sport.

What if the bear had cubs to take care of? There was no reason for her family to kill an innocent animal that they weren’t even going to eat! It was cruel to harm animals for fun, or to collect their fur or their teeth, or whatever sick reason predators had. That poor bear must have been so scared, having four werewolves attack them just for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

If Enid had been there, she would have done everything within her power to stop her brothers and help the bear escape. Her mother would have been pissed and would have probably confiscated Enid’s phone and grounded her until the end of time, but none of that would matter if it saved an innocent animal. Because Enid was never going to be like her family. She would never be the wolf they wanted if she had to disregard her feelings and her principles.

“I have to go,” Enid told her mother, before she lost her appetite. “Bye, Mom.”

Enid heard her mother tell her to hunt something and be more like other wolves while she lowered her phone. She tried to drown out the noise, looking for Wednesday’s heartbeat, but the one she found wasn’t hers. Maybe Enid should be more like Freya, who, for starters, was a wolf. But more than anything, Enid wanted to be free like her.

For years now, Enid felt like she was being pushed into this box that she didn’t fit into, like she was a hexagon and had to remold herself to fit into a square. And the older she got, the worse it became, because she was only one year away from turning eighteen. Enid worried that if she didn’t meet a nice wolf by then, her mother might set her up with one.

After ten minutes of continued criticism, Enid’s mother finally ended the call.

Enid put her hands on her knees, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth. But she couldn’t stop the tears burning in her eyes. Enid bit her lip until it bled, swallowing a whimper while she cried. She felt a hand on her right shoulder, but when she turned around, it wasn’t Wednesday standing there. And Enid really wanted it to be her, so she could listen to Wednesday’s heartbeat and silence the storm.

“Enid, dear, are you alright?” Mrs. Addams asked, frowning at Enid.

“It’s nothing major,” Enid answered, and it sort of was, but it was nothing that she wasn’t used to anyway. She wiped her tears away with the palms of her hands and tried to smile. “Just…family stuff.”

Mrs. Addams wrapped her arms around Enid, and she had to physically stop herself from hugging Mrs. Addams back, fearing that she would crack her ribs if she did. Enid needed this love that Mrs. Addams kept giving her, wishing that her mother had a fraction of Mrs. Addams’ warmth.

“Sweet summer child,” Mrs. Addams said while she brushed her fingers through Enid’s hair, which felt so nice that Enid was going to start crying out of happiness soon. Plus, a bit of sadness still. And lots of melancholy. “Do you want to come inside for a cup of hot cocoa?” Mrs. Addams asked, and it was a lovely offer, but Enid wasn’t really interested in hot chocolate milk right now.

Enid took a step back. “Where is Wednesday?”

The second her question left her lips, the gate opened, and the Addams family car pulled into the driveway. Enid hadn’t even realized that it was gone, though she was a bit distracted to pay attention to details like surroundings.

Enid inhaled, picking up on a whiff of patchouli, mixed with the floral fragrance of Wednesday’s soap. And then there she was, like a dream come true.

“Enid,” Wednesday called out, standing stiffly by the door of the car. “Get in. We are leaving.”

Speak of the devil, Enid thought, smiling while she jogged toward Wednesday. And Enid almost hugged her, but then she remembered that Wednesday didn’t want to be touched with others watching.

Maybe Enid could hug her in the car, or later today, before going to bed.

Wednesday took a step closer, hand shooting up. “What happened?” she asked softly, caressing Enid’s cheek.

Enid’s brain short-circuited while Wednesday wiped away what Enid guessed was a remnant of a tear. That gentle look on Wednesday’s face was so pure and loving that it overwhelmed Enid. She wanted to reach out and sweep Wednesday up in her arms, and tell her what an amazing friend she was, and how much she meant to her.

“Enid?” Wednesday prompted, dropping her hand.

“My mother called,” Enid revealed, chewing her lip. “She said some upsetting things, as usual.”

“Basta così,” (that’s it), Wednesday said, and she didn’t raise her voice much, but there was plenty of bite in it to know that she was angry.

Wednesday muttered on in Italian while she got in the car, and Enid knew that this was a serious situation, but Wednesday was cute when she got all riled up. And she became ten times cuter when she climbed back out and gestured for Enid to get in first.

“My chivalrous knight,” Enid exhaled, smiling at her best friend while she added a curtsy.

“Perché mi disarmi così tanto?” (why do you disarm me so much), Wednesday said while her eyes searched Enid’s, like Wednesday was trying to see into her soul. “Il potere che detieni su di me è senza misura,” (the power you hold over me is without measure).

Enid had no clue what Wednesday was saying, but her Italian sounded so poetic that Enid was thinking about learning the language.

***   

It didn’t occur to Enid that she didn’t ask Wednesday where she was taking her until they got out of the car. Not that it mattered because she would have followed Wednesday anywhere. And she no longer needed to ask when she recognized the location, bathed in sunlight rather than the light from that one lamp this time.

“Wait,” Enid said when they walked onto the playground the Addams family owned and tailored to Wednesday’s aesthetic. “Is this a friend date?” Enid wondered out loud, spotting a blanket and a picnic basket on the merry-go-round, in matching shades of black and white.

Wednesday looked down at Enid’s hand brushing against hers. “If you wish to call it that, yes,” Wednesday replied while she took Enid’s hand in hers. Not fast or firm, but slow and gentle. Thoughtful.

“I do,” Enid exhaled, smiling as she softly squeezed Wednesday’s fingers, just for a second to make sure that she wasn’t dreaming and that they were really out on the playground holding hands. “And I think we should have one every week,” Enid suggested, putting it out there in case Wednesday thought that it was a good idea, too.

Sundays, for example, would work because Sunday seemed to be their thing. On the first one, they went shopping; on the second, they went out for sushi; on the third, they had a sleepover with their friends; and now, on the fourth, they were at the playground to share a picnic. Plus, once their break was over, they’d still have every weekend off to do what they wanted.

But any day was fine, as long as Enid got to spend time with her favorite person in the world.

Enid couldn’t wait to let Yoko and Divina know that she got to hold Wednesday’s hand, in public, no less. Although technically, there wasn’t anyone else around. Still, they were outside, so it kind of counted. Enid wanted to write about it in her diary, too, the one she got for her birthday from Yoko and hadn’t used yet. But what better place to start than to write something about Wednesday?

“After you,” Wednesday said, grabbing one of the white handles from the merry-go-round.

Ugh, Enid needed a secret language too, so she could whisper as many sentiments as she wanted without making Wednesday uncomfortable.

Enid grasped the nearest white handle and hoisted herself up. Once she did, she pulled Wednesday up there with her, hand shifting from the handle to Wednesday’s waist to steady her when she lost her balance.

“My bad,” Enid admitted, cheeks burning when she realized that her hand was actually on Wednesday’s hip, and not so much her waist. “Wolf strength,” Enid explained, letting go. “And, you know, reflexes.”

Wednesday looked at Enid without saying a word for several seconds, and she was about to break eye contact, but then Wednesday tore her gaze away. The silence stretched on as Wednesday settled on the blanket, next to the basket. Enid joined her, sitting across from Wednesday, wondering what she was thinking.

Enid shouldn’t have put her hand on Wednesday’s hip, but it wasn’t on purpose. Enid would never touch her best friend inappropriately like that, though she wasn’t entirely sure if it was inappropriate. If they were going to dance at the ball next year, Enid’s hands would be close to Wednesday’s hips, too. Then again, Wednesday was selective with touch, so maybe not.

But Wednesday was welcome to put her hands on Enid as much as she wanted to. Anytime, anyplace. Except for in front of Enid’s family, which had nothing to do with Enid’s preferences, but everything to do with theirs. Short hugs and handshakes were fine, but anything more than that wouldn’t be, because her mother didn’t like it when she was being affectionate with her friends.

“Croissant?” Wednesday asked, retrieving one from the picnic basket.

“Oui, oui,” (yes, yes), Enid replied, smiling while she held out her hands, cupping them together. “Deux, uh… something with plat,” she trailed off, trying to request two croissants, but she couldn’t remember the French word for please.

“Por favor,” (please), Enid said, switching to Spanish.

“Per te comprerei tutta la pasticceria,” (for you I’d buy out the whole bakery), Wednesday exhaled, and if Enid had known she would speak Italian, Enid would have used her phone to translate everything into English or Spanish. “You’ll never go hungry with me, Enid,” Wednesday added, though it didn’t sound like that was what she said a few seconds ago.

“Oh, I know,” Enid smiled while she received two croissants, which were still a bit warm. “You’re taking really good care of me,” she hummed, happy to take care of Wednesday, too, in any way she would let her.

Enid didn’t have a lot of money to burn through, but she could plan a friend date sometime. Like a scavenger hunt, where Wednesday could play detective, although it would be nicer to have one where they could team up and play against another team, like Yoko and Divina. Or maybe they could go to a museum with unusual exhibits that Wednesday might be interested in seeing.

“What are you eating?” Enid asked, looking at Wednesday skipping the baked goods and going for a tin can filled with tiny black things, the size of pinheads.

“Caviar,” Wednesday answered while Enid picked up on salt air, kind of like being at sea.

Okay, whatever secret sweet thing that Wednesday liked definitely wasn’t in that picnic basket, but Enid was positive that she would find out what it was eventually. Because vault or not, Enid had the feeling that she was cracking Wednesday’s code one day at a time.

*** 

It was close to midnight when Enid climbed under the sheets, and she wasn’t kidding about wanting to steal them. They were so soft against her skin, and the best part was that they smelled like Wednesday. But the even better part was that Wednesday was underneath them with her, night after night, for the past four weeks, and hopefully for the six weeks they had left, too.

Enid was definitely going to miss sleeping close to Wednesday once their break was over. On the bright side, they would still share a room, which was better than nothing, Enid guessed. Too bad they didn’t have beds like Wednesday’s at Nevermore, though they did sleep in one together once. There wasn’t a lot of space for either of them to move, but it was perfect for cuddling.

Enid rolled onto her side, waiting for Wednesday to join her so she could hold her hand. In the meantime, Enid scrolled through her phone, looking at messages and pictures. She smiled as she lingered on her favorite photo, staring at her screen while she considered making it her new background, though she loved the one of Wednesday and her in the garden, too.

“Good news?” Wednesday asked as she slid under the sheets.

“Hmm?” Enid hummed, looking up from her phone while her roomie’s question sank in. “Oh, it’s not that,” she answered, putting her phone down next to her pillow. “I was looking at the photo of you on top of the monkey bars. You know, the one I took when we went to your playground together for the first time two weeks ago.”

Enid would never not smile at the sight of Wednesday’s dimples when she smiled after she proved that she was very much capable of getting up on those monkey bars. Wednesday might have thought that she was victorious that night, but Enid felt like she was the true winner.

Wednesday inched closer to the middle but remained nearly a whole arm away. “I remember,” she replied, karate-chopping her pillow into shape, which was such an adorable ritual of hers.

“I wanted to take pictures today, too,” Enid admitted, and maybe she should have. “But I know you’re not a fan, and a few are more than enough to cherish our time together,” she added with a smile. “Besides, I could never forget this summer. Not in a million years.”

Wednesday smoothed her braids over her shoulders. “You may take as many pictures as you wish,” she said while she got settled, folding the sheets down to her stomach.

Enid’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?” she whispered, though her hearing was pretty great, so she was positive she heard what she thought she just heard.

“On the condition you keep them to yourself.”

“Of course,” Enid agreed immediately, thinking how she could put them all in a hidden album on her phone, so nobody else could see. “And you can take pictures of me, too, if you want,” she offered, happy to pose for Wednesday if she wanted a tangible memory as well.

Maybe someday, they could put their pictures in a locket as a keepsake. Enid would love one of those golden hearts – not necessarily made out of real gold, of course, but just one that looked like gold – and have something engraved in the back. It would be a perfect symbol of their everlasting friendship, and a silver-colored locket would look so good on Wednesday. Plus, it would go great with the rest of her aesthetic.

Wednesday’s eyes softened. “A photograph could never capture what my eyes behold when I look at you, Enid,” she breathed while she stretched out her arm.

When Wednesday brushed Enid’s hair behind her ear, she had a funny feeling in her stomach that felt a lot like butterflies. But people got crushes on their friends all of the time, so it was completely normal for Enid to get a bit flustered around beautiful girls, like Wednesday. It was just a friend crush, which Enid read somewhere was also called a squish or a platonic crush.

Squish sounded nice and soft, much like Wednesday, who was both of those things and so much more, so Enid decided to go with squish. Officially, for her diary and in case anyone asked what Wednesday meant to her, though the answer to that question was a lot longer and slightly more complicated.

Wednesday slowly withdrew her hand, but before she could move her hand away completely, Enid intertwined her fingers with Wednesday’s. Enid felt Wednesday’s fingers twitch, but she didn’t pull away, and she still had that soft look on her face.

One by one, Wednesday’s fingers closed, holding Enid’s palm pressed against hers.

Enid smiled at the way Wednesday kept one arm across her chest, like she wanted to protect her heart while she slept. But Wednesday didn’t have to be so guarded all of the time. If someone intruded, Enid would know, and she’d have them pinned to the floor before they could even think of going near Wednesday.

Nobody was ever going to touch Wednesday on Enid’s watch.

“Night, night, Wens,” Enid hummed, kissing the back of Wednesday’s hand.

“Good night, little wolf,” Wednesday replied, squeezing Enid’s fingers. “Che I tuoi sogni siano dolci quanto te,” (may your dreams be as sweet as you are), Wednesday added in Italian, and that settled it.

Enid didn’t just want to learn Italian. She was going to.

Chapter Text

It was precisely a quarter past four when Wednesday tiptoed across the driveway. There was a faint, subtle glow in the sky as the sun got closer to the horizon, though true dawn wasn’t for another hour. Wednesday felt the gravel press into the soles of her feet, leaving marks that were bound to fade within minutes. Meanwhile, her boots were in her room, along with the little wolf, mumbling things as she slept.

Ever since Enid held Wednesday’s hand at night, Enid kept whispering about a locket. A mere dream, Wednesday had assumed at first, until it became a pattern she could not dismiss. Alas, she hadn’t gathered much information regarding said jewelry. The sleep-talking little wolf did reveal that the locket was shaped like a heart and made of gold or silver. Gold, Wednesday believed, given Enid’s inability to come into contact with silver.

Wednesday had considered asking Enid, but she chose to avoid alerting the little wolf to her sleep disorder. Enid had enough on her mind as it was, and her response was too unpredictable to take the risk of telling her. Wednesday also feared that Enid may feel uncomfortable with her somniloquism and therefore decide not to spend nights together anymore.

The thought of Enid leaving her again was too much for Wednesday to bear.

Wednesday swallowed, shoving the memory that surfaced back into the darkest corner of her mind. She reached the gate and checked the watch strapped around her wrist. Wednesday arched a brow upon seeing seven minutes had elapsed, when it never took her more than three to cross the distance. How odd. Perhaps her mind had wandered longer than a few seconds.

“Uncle Fester?” Wednesday called out as she glanced at the road.

Uncle Fester emerged from behind the pillar on Wednesday’s left. “My little storm cloud,” Uncle Fester responded, lifting his hat.

Wednesday smiled, but her smile turned into a frown when her nostrils were invaded by the pungent scent of a sick, wet dog. If she wasn’t trained to withstand chemical warfare, Wednesday’s eyes would have watered at the stench.

“What’s that smell?” Wednesday asked, pinching her nose.

“Werewolf repellent,” Uncle Fester answered with a giggle. “Old recipe from a friend, who was killed by a pack of mutts if you can believe it.”

Wednesday made a mental note to throw her clothes into the dungeon before returning to her room.

“So,” Uncle Fester said, looking up at the mansion. “When do I get to meet this wolf of yours?”

Wednesday let go of her nose, discovering that the scent grew more invasive with prolonged exposure. “When you take a bath,” she responded, and she should take one as well before climbing back into bed with her friend.

“Ooh, does an ice bath count? I’m due for one after my electroshock therapy tomorrow.”

Any bath was acceptable as long as every trace of the werewolf repellent was gone. A tub filled with bleach, however, would be preferable. Wednesday wanted her uncle to meet Enid in the near future, if he vowed to behave and not poke her. Otherwise, he would have to suffer the consequences.

For the time being, Wednesday chose not to spring too many of her family members on Enid at once. Wednesday wanted Enid to acclimatize and feel at home with them, rather than view herself as a mere guest for one summer. Introducing Enid to her parents was enough exposure for at least another week, though it appeared that Enid liked them. Wednesday’s mother, in particular, had earned Enid’s affection. 

Wednesday checked her watch again. It was half past four now. Fifteen minutes since she went outside. Seventeen since she left Enid. Thirteen left until Wednesday wished to return, though time was not on her side. Wednesday needed more time to get rid of her clothes, scrub her skin, and wash her hair. But it wasn’t her uncle’s fault.

Wednesday was the one who sent him to Enid’s house. Alas, not to come back with Esther Sinclair’s tongue.

“Did you find it?” Wednesday asked.

Uncle Fester pulled a bundle out of his coat, wrapped in black cloth, tied together with a rope. “Like a rotting corpse in a crypt,” he grinned, tossing the package over the gate.

Wednesday stretched out her arms and caught it. She was fairly certain that Enid would forgive her for stealing her family’s journals and their grimoire, containing knowledge and secrets of their pack. Enid deserved to have this information. It was her right as a former member to know what her parents had kept hidden, which Wednesday assumed was quite a list.

“There was a silver lock on one of those books,” Uncle Fester shared, pulling a piece of a broken lock out of his pocket. “Silver, in a wolf’s house,” he said, putting it back in his pocket. “Can’t have that near your wolf, can we?”

“Esther Sinclair is hiding something,” Wednesday stated. The measurements the elder Sinclair took to conceal her secrets, however, were far grander than Wednesday’s initial suspicion.

Wednesday touched the rope, wondering what those pages of the previously locked journal contained. She would be lying if she said that she wasn’t interested in reading it, as well as those other books, though it wasn’t her intention to do so. Wednesday wouldn’t read a single word unless Enid gave her permission to.  

“I left a parting gift,” Uncle Fester announced with a sinister giggle. “Nobody gets to mess with the apple of your dark eye,” he winked, and Wednesday smiled at the notion of revenge.

Esther Sinclair needed to suffer for repeatedly hurting Enid. Wednesday couldn’t breathe, seeing those tears in Enid’s eyes every time her mother contacted her. It was unfathomable how someone could harm a sweet soul like Enid. If only Wednesday could shield Enid’s mind from pain, or stop Esther from causing it.

“What of the locket?” Wednesday questioned, tucking the bundle under her right arm.

“I searched every crevice. Couldn’t find a locket,” Uncle Fester answered, shaking his head. “I did find a diamond ring. Real sparkler, too.”

“I prefer obsidian,” Wednesday responded, nauseated by the idea of shiny jewelry. “It matches the color of my heart and doesn’t pretend to be pure.”

“Obsidian it is,” Uncle Fester nodded and smiled, though it wasn’t a request. “Well, I’d better skedaddle if I want to make it back in time for breakfast. They serve mystery meat pie on Thursdays.”

“Don’t forget to take a bath. The kind where you use the soap instead of eating it,” Wednesday pressed while she adjusted the books, hugging them to her chest. “I will not have you repel my friend.”

“All right.”

“I’ll see you soon, Uncle Fester.”

Uncle Fester nodded. “I’m always only a lurk away.”

Right now, Wednesday preferred to have her uncle over ten feet away. Whatever was in that repellent was powerful enough to ward off more than werewolves. If Wednesday wasn’t so close to one, she would have asked for the recipe and used it the way others used perfume. Alas, she could not resort to such a measure to keep people away, like a particular leech with a sensitive nose, who threatened Wednesday’s position as Enid’s best friend.

Wednesday went back inside and took a bath in Thing’s room while Thing took her clothes to the dungeon. Once Wednesday finished washing up and drying off, she redid her braids and wrapped a towel around herself. It was a quarter past five when Wednesday made it back to her room, tiptoeing inside with her left arm securing the towel and her right carrying the package.

Wednesday placed the bundle of books in her closet, traded the towel for her nightgown, and went back to bed. She reached out to hold Enid’s hand, causing her to stir. Wednesday thought of letting go, but then Enid pulled her hand close and tucked it under her cheek. The warmth from the little wolf was immediate and intense, spreading through Wednesday’s veins.

It wouldn’t take long for Wednesday’s hand to go numb, though she didn’t care. All that mattered was Enid having a good night’s sleep, even if it meant using her hand as a pillow. Wednesday’s feelings concerning Enid had changed, though she knew that anything beyond friendship was out of the question. Enid wanted a wolf, a male to be exact, and Wednesday was neither of those.

Goody was right. Wednesday was bound to be alone in a cruel twist of a cursed fate. Not skipped, but unlovable in the way she never desired to be, until now.

“Mhmm…locket,” Enid mumbled softly, wrapping her fingers around Wednesday’s wrist, stealing more pieces of her than she already had. “Beautiful…it is.”

“Location…I must have,” Wednesday sighed quietly. “Dis-moi, petite louve, ” (tell me, little wolf), she whispered in French, hoping for a useful clue. “Et je le trouverai pour toi,” (and I will find it for you).

Wednesday tried to close her eyes, but found it impossible to look away from the little wolf who ignited a fire in her heart. So, this was what love felt like. A curse indeed.

***  

“Wait,” Enid blinked as Wednesday pushed her dresser toward the door. “You want me to be your anchor so you can talk to your dead relative?” Enid asked while she lifted Wednesday’s dresser and positioned it against the door.

“Yes,” Wednesday confirmed, glancing at Enid’s arms when she flexed them. Reaper, have mercy.

“Why me?” Enid asked, tugging at the collar of her pink shirt. “Why not Thing?” she suggested, letting go of her shirt. “Or does it have to be two hands?”

“You are powerful, Enid,” Wednesday answered while she gathered her candles and a box full of matches. “There is no stronger anchor to tether me to the world of the living than you.”

Enid’s eyes widened. “Does this mean that something bad is going to happen if I let go?” she questioned, throat bobbing as she swallowed.

“I trust you,” Wednesday stated, and in different circumstances, she would have attempted this alone.

“That…is not the answer I was hoping for, but yes, you can trust me,” Enid responded, nodding. “I got you, Wens,” she exhaled, reaching out to touch Wednesday’s shoulder.

Wednesday smiled, earning that smile from Enid that unraveled her so. Part of Wednesday kept urging her to push the little wolf away, but the part that wished for the opposite gained more ground every day. When Enid playfully accused Wednesday of loving her last week, she spent the night realizing that she did. Alas, the picnic she arranged had not turned out the way she had hoped.

A friend date, Enid had called it, confirming that they could not be more than friends. But if friendship was what Enid wanted, then Wednesday’s friendship she would have. For infinity.

“Careful,” Enid said when Wednesday grabbed a match from the box.

Wednesday struck the match against the side of the box, creating a flame. She lit every candle and placed them in a circle around Enid and herself. Goody’s book of shadows was in the center, as a necessary part of the ritual to travel from this plane to another.

Enid sat down on the other side of the book, crossing her legs. “I’m sorry if my hands are a bit clammy,” she apologized, turning her palms upward, resting her hands on her knees. “The thought of something bad happening to you is making me nervous.”

“Nothing is going to happen to me,” Wednesday reassured while she sat down and placed her hands in Enid’s. “And your hands are fine,” Wednesday added, though they did feel sweaty.

“Try not to speak or move,” Wednesday warned as she looked at the opened page of Goody’s book.

If Enid didn’t remain still or talked during the ritual, it would sever the link before Wednesday was ready to return. Doing so could potentially trap Wednesday’s spirit in one plane and leave behind her corporeal body in a comatose state in this one. Or in extreme cases, lead to cardiac arrest.

Wednesday read the words on the page over and over until she could recite them verbatim. She closed her eyes, repeating the Latin incantation out loud until she felt the ground shift beneath her. The scent of Enid’s floral shampoo vanished, replaced by charred wood and soot.  

Wednesday’s hands shot up, squeezing her throat as her eyes snapped open. A blanket of fog swallowed up the lower half of her body, boots stuck in what felt like mud. Ash rained down from the dark blue sky, close to black. There were unmarked graves all around Wednesday. Dozens of them, if not a few hundred.

Gripping her right leg with both of her hands, Wednesday managed to pull her boot free. She coughed as she grabbed her left leg, but the deeper she inhaled the polluted air, the tighter her throat felt. Wednesday yanked her left leg free and moved away from the fog. There was a clearing higher up, on a hill, with no ash in sight. Wednesday stumbled while she climbed, digging her fingers into the sand to avoid sliding down.

When Wednesday reached the top, she saw a figure standing in a ray of light. She recognized those braids and that gray-toned dress, but it couldn’t be. Had Wednesday not traveled to the spirit realm?

“Goody?” Wednesday’s voice croaked, which she blamed on the ash she had breathed in.

The spirit turned around, and when she did, Wednesday knew it wasn’t her ancestor. It couldn’t be, after the sacrifice Goody had made, but for a few seconds, Wednesday had hoped she hadn’t lost her guide. Alas, this spirit, while dressed the same, was an imposter. Her skin was slightly less taut, and her gaze wasn’t as haunted as Goody’s. And she had seen a few more winters than Goody had, given the tiny creases around her eyes.

“Who are you?” Wednesday asked, staring at the spirit, who taunted her with the memory of her ancestor.

This had to be a trick, though only shapeshifters were capable of assuming another’s form. Wednesday wondered if such powers would even work in this realm, though she had to admit her knowledge of this place was painfully little.  

“I’m Anne Addams,” the spirit answered with a smile that radiated such kindness it was unsettling to see. “Goody’s sister.”

Wednesday narrowed her eyes. “Goody never mentioned a sister.”

“Twin sister,” Anne clarified, which was possible based on her looks, if she died years after Goody did. “My sister and I lived in harmony among the town folk,” Anne shared with an unwavering smile. “I was a healer.”

“You’re not a raven,” Wednesday said icily, watching as Anne’s smile slipped.

Anne tilted her head. “You remind me of her.”

“Crackstone is dead. Permanently, this time,” Wednesday informed the ancestor she didn’t know she had, in case she wasn’t aware of the fight that took place. “You can move on.”

“My sister waited a long time for vengeance. It consumed her.”

“Do you disagree with the fate of the man who burned your people?” Wednesday asked, gesturing at the unmarked graves, which she assumed were theirs. “Did you stand idly by in their final moments to hold on to your hopeless notion of peace and harmony?”

“Wednesday Friday Addams, do not disrespect thy ealdemoder,” Anne bit out, fixing Wednesday with a hard glare.

Wednesday swallowed at her great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandmother’s stern tone. Perhaps she could have worded her question differently, though in the end, her question remained the same. Where was Anne when her family and other outcasts were being slaughtered by pilgrims?

“Goodbye,” Wednesday said while she walked away to find out what was behind the hill. More ash, possibly, though there had to be other spirits, too. “May you rest in peace.”

Wednesday noticed Anne catching up to her after a few paces, sticking to her like her shadow.

“Following me won’t stop me from looking for my Aunt Ophelia,” Wednesday told her ancestor, who should give up while she was ahead.

Wednesday needed to talk to a raven, which Anne was not. Ophelia, while opposed by her mother, was the only raven left. Wednesday knew she had to be cautious of her, which wouldn’t be a problem, considering she was cautious of everyone by default. She wasn’t here to share a cup of coffee while exchanging small talk. Wednesday wanted answers, and she wasn’t going anywhere until she received those.

“Only an Addams can appear,” Anne shared, and the brand new information stopped Wednesday in her tracks.

Ophelia was a Frump, not an Addams. So, no matter how long Wednesday searched, she wouldn’t find her.

Wednesday turned to look at her apparent new guide. “Is there anything else you wish to divulge?”

“The raven you seek has placed a curse upon you.”

For a dove, Anne was no bearer of good news.

Wednesday wondered if the curse was connected to the one person she would spend the entirety of her life with. Perhaps that was why she was doomed to love someone fated to love another. A curse upon the Addams family curse.

“What is made can be destroyed,” Wednesday said, curling her fingers into fists. “How do I break the curse?”

Anne smiled. “My sister was a strong-willed raven, too.”  

“Goody said the path of a raven is a solitary one,” Wednesday shared while they were caught reminiscing the past. “Do you agree with her?”

“You seek answers in the wrong place, my child.”

Wednesday shuddered as a violent jolt coursed through her body. She assumed it was a physical reaction to the nauseating sentiment from her great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandmother, but then her nose began to bleed.

“The sands have run out,” Anne said, eyes slightly wider than before. “You must journey back.”

Wednesday coughed, spitting blood onto the ground. It was black, not red. Wednesday must have exhausted her psychic powers by entering a place no living being was supposed to. Nonetheless, a few more minutes wouldn’t kill her.

Another jolt wracked through Wednesday’s body, hitting her like a train at full speed.

***   

“Wednesday!”

“Can you hear me?”

“Wednesday, please.”

A sharp tug snapped Wednesday’s limbs forward. She fell face-first toward the ground, arms flailing in a meager attempt to catch herself. Wednesday’s hands phased through her ancestor, who was not an anchor she could hold on to.

“Beware of—” Anne spoke, but her warning was abruptly cut off when Wednesday’s connection to the spirit realm shattered.

One second, Wednesday was with her ancestor. The next, everything went black until, little by little, her world filled with color again.  

Wednesday blinked and realized she was no longer in the circle. “Enid,” she whispered, staring at a tear-stricken face.

“Wednesday, your hands,” Enid whimpered while she raised Wednesday’s hands along with hers. “Your eyes,” Enid continued, hands trembling. “You’re bleeding!”

Wednesday stared at the hives spreading across her fingers and the back of her hands. She glanced at Enid’s shiny pink nail polish and realized she hadn’t taken her allergy pills before the ritual.

“I’m fine,” Wednesday said as she pulled her hands away from Enid’s.

Wednesday pushed herself upright and walked over to her dresser.

“Don’t do that,” Enid said while she approached. “You’re not fine, Wens,” she exclaimed, frowning while Wednesday opened the top drawer. “There’s black blood leaking from your eyes, and your skin is covered in welts, like you’ve been rolling around in poison ivy or something. So, don’t tell me you’re fine, because you’re not fine,” Enid huffed, wiping her cheeks. “This isn’t normal, Wednesday. People don’t just bleed black blood and have their skin erupt in—”

“Hives,” Wednesday interrupted, applying a layer of cream onto her hands. “They’re hives,” she exhaled, feeling the immediate relief as her skin healed. “And I get them because I am allergic, Enid.”

Enid’s frown deepened, setting up camp on her beautiful face. “Allergic to what?” she questioned, as though it wasn’t obvious when Wednesday had spelled it out on the day they met.

“To you,” Wednesday answered, regretting her words the second they left her lips.

Enid took a step back. “You’re…allergic to me?” she asked, swallowing as her eyes glossed over.

Wednesday grasped Enid’s hand as tightly as she could. “I’m allergic to color,” Wednesday revealed once more, using her free hand to grab her allergy pills. “That is why I keep taking these, so I don’t break out into hives.”

“Your medication…it…you…,” Enid blinked, staring at the bottle. “All this time?”

“Yes,” Wednesday confirmed with a soft sigh. “And when I forget a dose or the amount I took doesn’t suffice, I use my allergy cream to clear up my skin.”

“I…I see,” Enid swallowed, running her thumb along healed skin. “And the blood?”

“Psychic exhaustion.”

“You’re unbelievable,” Enid scoffed, pulling her hand free. “You said nothing was going to happen to you, and this is the furthest thing from nothing.”

“I underestimated the consequences of my journey,” Wednesday admitted, though her only regret was upsetting Enid.

“So, um, about your allergy…,” Enid said, brushing her hair behind her ear. “Does it hurt when I’m near you? When I touch you?”

Mentally, Wednesday would say that it was starting to, knowing that Enid was close to her, but not with her. Wednesday imagined that twinge of pain in her chest would worsen over time, more so once Enid entered a relationship with someone. Physically, however, Wednesday was fine as long as she stuck to her medication.

“Your touch is not unpleasant to me,” Wednesday informed Enid, whose touch was welcome.

Wednesday still had a few reservations, though not as many as she used to.

“I can ask Thing if I can put my stuff in his room,” Enid offered, gesturing at her colorful corner.

Wednesday shook her head. “You’ll have your own room for that soon.”

“Oh, right…the guest room,” Enid nodded, looking at the floor. “Of course.”

“I’m not kicking you out, Enid,” Wednesday said, cupping Enid’s cheek. “Darei la mia anima per un’ultima notte accanto a te,” (I would give my soul for one last night by your side), Wednesday whispered earnestly, falling into the curse’s rabbit hole.

“Translation?”

I love you, little wolf.

Chapter Text

Dear diary…

Wednesday is legit allergic to color. I don’t know if her skin would peel off her bones – I hope not! But my nail polish caused her skin to break out into hives. It spread so fast, and it was really bad, until it wasn’t, thanks to some magic type of cream she keeps in her drawer. I mean, it has to be magic because it made her hives go poof, like I imagined them, except I didn’t.

Oh, and that’s not even the worst thing that happened last night. Wednesday cries black blood when she’s doing her psychic thing now, what the heck!? Like going as stiff as a board and fainting wasn’t a bad enough side effect? I mean…hello?? The girl only has one kidney, and she’s really tiny! She doesn’t need those kinds of problems, which I can’t even protect her from. How am I supposed to keep her safe from her own powers?

The good news is that Wednesday is opening up to me. She said she trusts me, and I think she does, because she’s been answering all of my questions. Well, almost all of them. She said something to me in Italian again, and when I asked her to translate it for me, she didn’t. I wish I could remember what it was so I could ask Yoko to translate it, but I don’t. I did look up ‘anima’, because it sounded so much like animal that it stuck with me, and apparently it means ‘soul’. So, I do know that Wednesday said something about her soul, or maybe it was something about mine. But my gut tells me that she was referring to hers.  

Maybe she was reminding me that we are soul friends? Though she didn’t use the Italian word for friends – I looked it up, and it’s not that different from Spanish. There’s only a one-letter difference, but when spoken, they sound basically the same. Ugh, I really need to learn Italian so I can understand Wednesday, but what if she switches to another language once I do? She stopped saying things in Spanish when she found out I understood everything, so odds are that she would do it again. And again, and again, until she makes up a language of her own that nobody can translate.

Wednesday is stubborn, and so frustrating sometimes. But she’s also my favorite person in the whole wide world, and I love her no matter what. I’ll always love her.  

Enid exhaled and turned the page, accepting that some parts of Wednesday would always remain a mystery. Anyway, moving on now from her little brain ramble, she wanted to get back to the reason why she decided to write in her journal. Okay, technically, the main reason was Wednesday, and Enid still had so much left to write about her, like that cute picnic she had arranged at her private playground, and the fact that she let Enid co-parent Nyx and Erebus.

But the reason right now was to make a list of all the stuff that she wanted to do. After her summer break, of course, which was all about being with her best friend. So, basically, things she would like to do once she went back to Nevermore in five weeks.

Enid flipped a few more pages, pressing them down so they wouldn’t move in the middle of making her list. 18 things I want to do before I turn 18, Enid wrote at the top of the opened page before adding a heart. She got the inspiration from bucket lists and figured it would be fun to make one of the stuff she wanted to accomplish before being a legal adult.

The first thing that came to Enid’s mind was to learn how to drive, now that she was officially seventeen and therefore old enough to start, so she put that down as her number one. Not that she had to be able to cross it off her list first because Enid’s order was totally random, and she would need multiple weeks of practice anyway, if not a few months, before getting her license.

For her second item, Enid wrote down winning the Poe cup again because it felt good to win, and she had a great team to share the victory with. It was fun and kind of adventurous, which gave her the idea to put doing something fun and adventurous as her third bucket list item, aside from the Poe cup. Speaking of fun stuff, a rooftop party with the Nightshades was definitely number four. Enid couldn’t wait to join one of those and wear something with lots of glitter.

Ooh, and personalizing a mocktail would be a great fifth! Enid would love to have her own signature drink, especially if she came up with it all by herself, with maybe a little bit of help from Yoko, who was an expert on blending flavors together. Plus, Yoko knew exactly what kind of things Enid was into. With Yoko’s tips, Enid would find the right combination in no time.

“Hmm,” Enid hummed, twirling her pen between her fingers while she thought about what to write down for number six. “I guess I should try to befriend some wolves,” she said to herself as she put befriend some wolves next. “And meet a great guy.”

Enid bit her lip, writing down meet a great guy, go on a date, and make it official as numbers seven, eight, and nine on her list. Okay, she was halfway there now. Only nine more things left to add before her list was complete.

Winning the fencing tournament would be an interesting tenth. Enid needed more training for that, way more even, but with Wednesday, Yoko, and Bianca on her team, Enid didn’t doubt for a second that they’d win the championship. Plus, it would be nice to be a part of their team and get their picture taken for the trophy case. And Enid knew she took on way too many clubs this year, but she kind of wanted to add more next year. Because it was the perfect way to meet people and make new friends, and maybe find a nice, single wolf.

“Eleven…,” Enid mumbled while her mind went back to Wednesday. “Go to the dance with Wednesday, of course,” Enid said, smiling as she wrote it down. “And take tons of pictures with her.”

Have my first French kiss, Enid thought as she got to number thirteen. And maybe it was bad luck putting that bucket list item with that number, but she had to get a real kiss sometime, one that was filled with so many feelings she had to spell them out in someone else’s mouth. Like saying ‘I love you’ without actually saying it out loud.

Like Wednesday did several times, through sweet gestures. She’d probably never say the actual words, but Enid knew that her best friend loved her. Wednesday sharing her room and her bed despite her allergy? That was love. Wednesday combing Enid’s hair every morning? Love. Wednesday letting Enid keep one of her nightgowns? Love. Wednesday playing a song on her cello just for Enid? Love.

Enid guessed that acts of service were Wednesday’s love language. It certainly wasn’t touch, like Enid’s favorite love language, although Wednesday’s tolerance for touch had grown a lot. She even took the initiative to hold Enid’s hand more than once. Plus, Wednesday had comforted Enid with a touch when she was upset after that phone call with her mother that morning after the full moon.

Wednesday walked in as if thinking about her had summoned her. She stopped halfway to her bed and looked down at the pile of sweaters Enid was sitting on. Her own sweaters, not Wednesday’s, for the record.

“Howdy, roomie,” Enid smiled up at her best friend.

“Why are you on the floor?”

Enid tapped her journal. “Pink cover,” she answered, knowing how Wednesday felt about color in her bed, which was a rule that had gotten so much more serious now that Enid knew why it was such an absolute boundary. “And my pen’s pink, too,” she added, holding it up.

“You can sit at my desk,” Wednesday offered, glancing in the direction of her desk.

“It’s okay,” Enid replied, shaking her head. “I’m good here,” she assured Wednesday, though she appreciated the offer and might take her up on it some other time.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m making a list of eighteen things I’d like to do before I’m eighteen,” Enid answered, happy to go into more detail if her best friend was interested. “I still need five more, so…do you have any ideas?”

“Can I see what you have written?”

“Mhmm,” Enid hummed, holding out her journal for Wednesday to take.

“Drive, Poe cup, something adventurous…,” Wednesday whispered as her eyes scanned the page. “Party, mocktail, wolves, meet a…guy,” she paused and arched a brow, probably at the one Enid wrote about the fencing tournament.

Maybe it was a weird thing for Enid to put on her list when it sounded more like something Wednesday would put on hers. Ooh! Wednesday should make one! That would be fun, and maybe they could write down a few shared goals that they could cross off together. Like going on a vacation somewhere, just the two of them. Maybe three, if Thing happened to hide in Enid’s suitcase when she wasn’t looking and totally didn’t put him up to that.

Thing could take pictures of Wednesday and Enid together. He had a really great eye for good angles!

“Go to the dance, take pictures…,” Wednesday continued, blinking, and if Enid squinted, she could swear that Wednesday was smiling. Which was good news because Enid really wanted to go to the dance with Wednesday. Guy or no guy, they were going together, and that was final.

“Have my first French kiss,” Wednesday read, reaching the last one.

Wednesday looked up from the journal. “I can teach you,” she said, handing Enid’s journal back to her.

“What?” Enid squeaked, blinking while her brain tried to process what had just happened. She cleared her throat and took a deep breath in and out. “Teach me what?”

“How to drive,” Wednesday answered, which made way more sense.

“Oh, that,” Enid laughed, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. “Wait…,” she backtracked, frowning. “You can drive?”

“I can.”

“But you’re not seventeen yet,” Enid commented, and there was also the fact that her roomie had a personal chauffeur to take her everywhere she wanted to go. “How can you have a license to drive?”

“I don’t have one, though I fail to see how that is relevant to my offer.”

“Sure,” Enid replied, nodding. “I’ll just add evade the law to my list.”

Wednesday’s lips curled up. “You did ask for ideas.”

“Legal ones, Wednesday,” Enid pointed out, preferring to avoid getting arrested. “I’m not built for prison.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Enid. I would never let them take you as long as I draw breath.”

***    

Enid wasn’t really sure if her outfit was right, even though she had already changed it five times. It was Sunday today, and while that didn’t necessarily mean anything special, it kind of did since she went home with Wednesday. Maybe Wednesday had another surprise planned, as she did on the other Sundays. Enid loved surprises, and while Wednesday felt the opposite about those, she sure was good at arranging them.

Anyway, Enid hoped that her clothes were okay. She didn’t have a lot of not-so-colorful things, and she didn’t want to raid Wednesday’s closet, so some color it was. It was too hot for a hoodie, but at least it was cropped, letting her stomach breathe. But most importantly, it was black. Well, mainly black, because it did have colorful raffles on the front. And Enid’s plaid pants were kind of dark, too, with subtle, colorful lines. Plus, she put the black hairpins back in her hair to keep her pink and orange streaks together.

It wasn’t much, and Wednesday said she was fine as long as she took her pills, but Enid figured that exposing Wednesday to slightly less color would lower the risk of an allergic reaction. And maybe make their hugs a little longer?

Enid smiled at her reflection in the mirror and walked out of the bathroom, clueless as to what this day would hold. But she was down for pretty much anything with Wednesday, aside from things that would put either one of them in danger.

“Mietitore, abbi pietà,” (reaper, have mercy), Wednesday said in Italian. “È mozzafiato,” (she’s breathtaking).

“Books?” Enid blurted out when she saw Wednesday standing by the foot of her bed with an arm full of books. “We’re not doing another ritual, are we?” Enid asked, grimacing at the thought of seeing Wednesday bleed again, hoping that what she said wasn’t some kind of incantation.

Wednesday shook her head. “These belong to you,” she answered while she approached.

“To me?” Enid blinked, glancing at the leather-bound books.

The one at the bottom was the thickest and looked like a single hand wouldn’t fit around it. Enid guessed it weighed about as much as a watermelon or a bowling ball. The book in the middle was slightly smaller than most of Enid’s school books, with well-worn pages. The last one on top was no bigger than her pretty pink journal, with a hole torn into the cover, like someone had ripped something off.

“This is your family’s grimoire and their journals,” Wednesday explained while she handed the books to Enid.

“What the heck,” Enid whispered, glancing at the journal on top, which had the initials E.S. carved into the leather at the bottom on the right.

This was so not the surprise Enid had expected at all. She told Wednesday not to go to her house and not to send someone else there instead, which clearly she did. Otherwise, there was no way that Wednesday could have ended up with those books. Books that, for the record, Enid had never even seen.

“You deserve to have the knowledge that they do,” Wednesday said, like that justified breaking in and entering.

Oh, God, Wednesday sent someone to San Francisco to Enid’s parents’ house, and had them steal Enid’s parents’ grimoire and journals. It was probably Wednesday’s uncle who retrieved them for her. Enid hoped that Wednesday’s uncle was okay and escaped without a scratch. But Enid hadn’t heard anything from her parents, so maybe they didn’t know that the books were missing, which needed to be put back before they did.

Before Enid requested to bring them back, however, she wanted to see what information was in them.

Enid looked up from the books. “Did you read these?”

“I have not,” Wednesday answered, which was yet another surprise. “They are not mine to read,” she stated, which was true, but Enid wouldn’t have minded if she had.

Enid had no secrets to keep from Wednesday, and she guessed that Wednesday got her the grimoire and the journals because Enid felt like something was wrong with her wolf. Maybe there was a logical explanation that Enid just didn’t know about, because her parents barely talked to her about anything, aside from wolfing out and needing to find a suitable mate.

“I guess I’ll start with the smallest one,” Enid decided while she walked over to Wednesday’s desk. Enid paused as she waited for permission, smiling when Wednesday pulled the chair back for her. “Thanks, Wens,” Enid hummed, putting the books on Wednesday’s desk.

Enid sat down, opened the journal, and began to read.

“What the heck…,” Enid frowned when she uncovered a secret on the bottom of the very first page. “I have a big sister,” she shared with a gasp.

According to the journal, Esther’s first child was not her eldest son, Matthew, but a daughter she gave birth to in ’89, ten years before Matthew was born. That was the year Enid’s mother graduated from Nevermore, which made her sister thirty-four, twice as old as Enid was now. She tried to find a name, but all it said was ‘E’, and the rest was crossed out with black ink for some reason.

“Oh…had. I had a big sister,” Enid backtracked when she stumbled upon a sentence of E having died in ’04, though the journal didn’t mention how. “It says here she died when she was fifteen,” she told Wednesday, swallowing while she stared at the page.

Enid wondered if her mother had her when she was only two years away from turning forty to replace the daughter she had lost two years before Enid was born. Maybe that was why Enid was never good enough, because she wasn’t E, and therefore a constant disappointment. But why did her parents hide and erase every memory of their firstborn?

Why did they never talk about E? What happened to her? Why was the next page missing from the journal? Why did E only exist as a footnote, like a shameful secret? What was she like? What hobbies did she have? What did she look like? Did she go to Nevermore? Why wasn’t she included in their family grave plot at the graveyard?

Did Enid’s brothers remember the big sister they lost? Probably not, because in ’04 Matthew was five years old, and Samuel, Maurice, and Sebastian were only four, three, and two, which was way too young to remember someone they didn’t even have photographs of. Maybe Enid’s parents erased E so her brothers wouldn’t have to mourn her as they had.

“This is stupid,” Enid sniffed, wiping her eyes with the palms of her hands. “Why am I crying for losing a big sister I never even knew I had?”

“Your feelings are not stupid, Enid,” Wednesday said while she caressed Enid’s cheek.

Enid got up from the chair and all but threw herself into Wednesday’s arms, crying as Wednesday hugged her. Enid tried to stop, but she felt like someone had taken away a piece of her heart, even though she had never met her big sister and knew nothing about her.

If all of Enid’s family secrets were this terrible, then she would rather not read more.

“Wens?” Enid prompted, feeling Wednesday remove her hairpins one by one.

“Yes, my little wolf?”

Enid blinked at the possessive determiner, but mentally shrugged it off as a mere slip of the tongue. “Will you read the journals and the grimoire for me?” she requested, so Wednesday could share what was important and leave out things that wouldn’t help at all, like a dead sibling.

“Are you certain?” Wednesday asked, running her fingers through Enid’s hair, which felt so nice.

Enid backed away a little. Not letting go, just enough to look at her best friend.

“You’re so sweet,” Enid exhaled, leaning forward to kiss Wednesday on the cheek, but then her brain caught up to her. “I’m happy you’re my best friend, because I couldn’t ask for a better friend,” Enid told Wednesday, from the bottom of her heart.

“La tua felicità è tutto ciò che conta,” (your happiness is all that matters), Wednesday whispered, and Enid wished she knew what Wednesday was saying.

“If you switch to Italian again, I will bite you,” Enid teased, though she doubted that would work.

“Mordimi,” (bite me), Wednesday replied, sticking to her secret language. “Sono tua,” (I am yours).

“You would like me to bite you, wouldn’t you?” Enid sighed softly, aware of Wednesday’s fascination with sharp things.

***   

Lying side by side, holding Wednesday’s hand, felt like a perfect way to end what had been a rollercoaster of a day. Enid yawned while she urged her eyes to stay open a while longer, so she could enjoy the feeling of Wednesday caressing the back of her thumb, and maybe watch her drift off to slumberland first.

It didn’t feel fair that their vacation was halfway over already. Enid didn’t want it to be. She wanted ten extra weeks of this, and then some. And while Enid overheard Mr. Addams mentioning a decorator after dinner, she wasn’t going to sleep in that guest room. Unless Wednesday’s parents had a problem with Enid sleeping in Wednesday’s room, although Enid didn’t believe that they did.

“Enid,” Wednesday whispered softly while she pulled Enid’s hand closer to her.

Enid smiled as she watched her friend. “Yes, Wens?”

“Where is your nail polish?” Wednesday questioned, studying Enid’s fingers.

“I took it off,” Enid answered, which she should have done sooner.

Wednesday exhaled, and something in her eyes changed into something softer. “You didn’t have to do that,” she said, and Enid knew that she didn’t have to, but she wanted to.

It was the least Enid could do to reduce the risk of triggering a reaction when she held Wednesday’s hand. It was just a bit of nail polish, so it wasn’t a big deal. It wasn’t like Enid was changing her hair or ditching her wardrobe. But any small differences she could make, she would. Like wearing less bright colors sometimes, so Wednesday could swallow a little less of her allergy pills. Or maybe even painting her nails black. Ooh, with white or silver glitter stars!

Wait—

“Are you allergic to glitter?” Enid asked, before planning to get a manicure with Thing.

“Only if it’s colorful,” Wednesday answered, as hoped. “Your Silvermoon nail polish is fine.”

“You’ve read my mind, Wens,” Enid exclaimed, smiling at how in sync they were right now. “Speaking of which, I’ve been thinking. About next weekend, to be specific.”

“Can you be more specific?” Wednesday replied with a twinkle in her eyes and the start of a smile on her face.

“Do you think we can visit Freya’s community together?” Enid asked, deciding to get straight to the point.

Enid had texted Freya basically every day since the full moon last week, and Freya had told her that she was welcome to visit anytime she wanted to. And Enid really, really wanted to, so she could meet more wolves who left their pack for one reason or another. Plus, she was curious to see what the community looked like and what they had built together. And it would be neat if they had outcasts that Nevermore didn’t, which Enid forgot to ask Freya.

“I’d like to go there,” Enid continued before Wednesday could respond. “And I thought about waiting until the next full moon, but I don’t want to be there when I wolf out. I want to be here, with you.”

“I shall make the necessary arrangements,” Wednesday said before pressing a kiss to Enid’s knuckles that made her insides melt.

Wednesday was so sweet it killed Enid. In a good way.

Enid decided that she would text her parents before going to Freya’s community and tell them that she was going to be in the woods for a couple of days and wouldn’t have any reception there. That way, Enid’s parents wouldn’t bother her while she was in Canada with Wednesday.

“Wait,” Enid blinked. “I forgot about the border,” she realized with a groan, because while she technically had a passport to travel, she didn’t have it with her.

“I’ll take care of it,” Wednesday replied, squeezing Enid’s hand.

“Do you think they’ll let us be cellmates in prison?” Enid asked, smiling at her roomie, plotting to cross the border illegally. “If so, I call dibs on the top bunk.”

“Excellent choice,” Wednesday said, smiling now, too. “Higher ground is safer.”

“Okay, scratch that. You’ll have to sleep with me.”

Chapter Text

Wednesday found her mother in her botanical garden, softly singing Bad Moon Rising. Her mother held her garden shears, snipping away the weeping angel’s roses, one by one. The cracked statue’s feet were covered in wilted petals, like a blanket of death and decay, crunching beneath her mother’s heels.

“I can feel your shadow behind me,” Wednesday’s mother stated, her back still turned toward Wednesday.

As a raven, it was no surprise that her presence was readily sensed by a dove. Wednesday could only imagine the suffocating weight of her darkness, snuffing out the light. A burden, no doubt, to someone who thrived on happy premonitions, of which Wednesday had none. She was the dark cloud, carrying a storm inside of her that her mother couldn’t handle.

Wednesday was unrelenting, destructive, and too much. Inevitably, she would end up alone as her ancestor had foretold, with Enid in the arms of another, and her mother desiring space. Until that day arrived, however, Wednesday would try to keep the pieces together as well as she could.

“Enid wishes to go to Canada for a few days to visit Freya, the wolf we met on Enid’s birthday,” Wednesday revealed, rather than wasting time on pointless small talk. “We are leaving Friday at first light, if that’s acceptable.”

Requesting permission was a frustrating stipulation Enid had insisted they needed. Ironic, considering the little wolf intended to feed her own mother lies regarding her whereabouts. Though Wednesday understood why Enid kept hers in the dark. Wednesday would have preferred doing the same with her mother, although it wasn’t the end of the world for her parents to know where she was headed.

Wednesday’s mother lowered her shears. “Not on an empty stomach it isn’t.”

“You’re right,” Wednesday admitted with an imperceptible nod. “I cannot let Enid starve.”

Allowing Enid an hour to eat her fill was a better plan than listening to her stomach growl mere minutes into their journey. On that note, Wednesday should prepare a few sandwiches and snacks, in case a three-hour drive was too long for Enid. Technically, it was closer to six, though Wednesday had no intention of slowing down and using main roads when she had a map with shortcuts.

“I’ll pack you two a lunch for the road,” Wednesday’s mother announced, removing the last rose wrapped around the weeping angel’s wings.

Wednesday couldn’t promise that she would eat hers, depending on how hungry Enid was, and whether she wanted Wednesday’s share or not. Nonetheless, it was thoughtful of her mother to keep them sustained. Wednesday appreciated her mother’s kindness toward Enid, which oddly had been extended to Wednesday as well.

“You missed one,” Wednesday pointed out, glancing at a rose blooming atop the angel’s head.

“I left a refill of your prescription in the kitchen,” Wednesday’s mother shared, as if sensing that Wednesday was about to retreat there for a quad over ice.

Wednesday’s mother stretched her arms as high up as she could to reach the rose at the top. When she did, her dress caught on the tangled mass of thorns. Wednesday watched as her mother looked down at the torn fabric near her stomach. It was unusual seeing her ruin one of her dresses when she had tended to her garden for many years, and wouldn’t make such a reckless mistake.

Perhaps the idea of Wednesday speaking with Ophelia plagued her mother’s mind. Wednesday could inform her mother about her new guide, though she would rather not discuss her journey to the spirit realm. Nor did Wednesday wish to bring up the fact that she was cursed by the aunt rooting for her death. She almost admired the morbidity, and she would have, if it weren’t for her reason to live.

“Oh, dear,” Wednesday’s mother sighed while she tried to shield the damage with her hands.

Or so Wednesday assumed her mother was doing, until she noticed a scar exposed in the tear on her abdomen.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” Wednesday said as her mother used her shears to mask what could no longer be hidden. “The anonymous donor,” Wednesday added in case it wasn’t obvious that she had uncovered the truth.

Three years Wednesday was kept in the dark as to who had given her a kidney when hers failed. A donor who chose to remain unknown, she was told by the doctor who cut her open and stitched her back up. Wednesday never gave it a second thought, assuming the organ came from someone who met their untimely end.

For three years, Wednesday was unaware that she had been carrying a part of her mother with her. All this time, and her mother never breathed a word of the surgery she underwent. Wednesday should have known her kidney never came from a stranger. Her body would have no doubt rejected the kidney if it were. But the blood of the person who gave birth to her? That Wednesday’s body was familiar with.

Most daughters inherited money or jewels from their mothers. Not organs, which Wednesday preferred to receive in jars so she could preserve them for her collection.

“I would have donated both if they had let me,” Wednesday’s mother confessed while she dropped her shears.

Wednesday’s eyes widened slightly at the revelation. “You would die for me?”

Wednesday knew that her mother didn’t want her to die after her desperate plea not to get in touch with Ophelia’s spirit. To die for her, however, was a different, far graver matter. One kidney was enough to survive, whereas none would have traded her mother’s life for hers. A permanent, irreversible sacrifice.

“Losing you would be a fate worse than a slow, agonizing death,” Wednesday’s mother claimed. “You’re my little raven,” she added, eyes hardening while her voice grew stronger. “Do you hear me?”

Wednesday swallowed at the sentimentality. “Is this the part where you’ll initiate physical contact again?”

“No,” Wednesday’s mother answered, chest deflating. “But know that I’ll always hold you in my heart.”

One more minute of this, and Wednesday might have to carve out her kidney to cease this sudden burst of maternal love. The emotions, spoken out loud, were too much for Wednesday to digest at once. She needed to leave before she became physically unwell.

Wednesday turned on her heel, but paused when she reached the door. “You did choose me,” she realized while she pressed her right hand against her abdomen. “I see that now.”

*** 

My dearest daughter befriended a siren at the beach, Wednesday read in the larger Sinclair journal, on a page marked July 2013. I couldn’t let her get close to that little water rat. Furs and Scales don’t mix. It’s unnatural. 

Wednesday gripped the edge of her desk, nails digging into the wood as she remembered Enid mentioning losing her only friend when she was seven.

I fixed the problem, the next entry, dated a month later, read. Enid will never hear from that little girl or her abominations of fathers again. They won’t dare to enter our territory again.

Wednesday slammed the journal shut. “Monster,” she hissed through gritted teeth.

It was cruel to take away a child’s friend rather than encourage social interaction. Wednesday failed to grasp why species or sexual orientation was relevant to friendship. She wondered what reason Esther had for allowing Enid to stay with her for the summer. It certainly wasn’t out of the goodwill of her rotten heart.

The thought of Esther having an ulterior motive left a bad taste in Wednesday’s mouth. But Esther would have to get past Wednesday and her family first.

Wednesday opened the grimoire, skipping to the section that had caught her eye this morning, right when Enid began to stir. There wasn’t much time now, either, to gather more information from the books. Enid was bound to return from Thing’s room any minute, but Wednesday had to read this.

Alphas, the top of the page said in black ink, along with a sketch of a red moon.

Wednesday picked up the book, eyes flitting across the yellowing paper. Around her, the silence stretched on until her door swung open, slamming into the wall. Wednesday closed the grimoire, placed it on her desk with the journals, and turned with one question in mind.

She had yet to finish half of the chapter she had read, though, with the knowledge she had gained thus far, and Enid’s concerns, Wednesday was quite certain that the answer was yes. Devastatingly so, as it did not bode well for Enid if her nature were to be discovered by other wolves. Wednesday hoped that her assumption was wrong, but the evidence outweighed those odds.

Enid was a late bloomer by werewolf standards, which was one of the possible marks of an alpha. The second telltale sign was the blood moon, and it was also the second fact that the Furs at Nevermore knew, as well as Enid’s family. Thankfully, they were unaware of Enid’s wolf form. Aside from that expendable nobody Enid had fought, Wednesday was the only one who knew that other wolves looked like a pack of oversized dogs compared to Enid.

Wednesday suppressed a smile when Enid turned her back toward her and twisted the doorknob back in place, as if Wednesday hadn’t noticed her ripping it off. For Enid’s sake, Wednesday decided to pretend that she didn’t. Meanwhile, her stomach twisted as Enid’s burst of strength stacked her odds of survival against her.  

“Check out my new nails!” Enid exclaimed as she took quick strides across the room. “What do you think, roomie?” she asked, holding out her hands.

Enid’s nails were painted black with silver-colored crescent moons on her thumbs and stars on the others. The glitter in her polish shone nearly as bright as her smile. And while Wednesday had never been fond of glitter, seeing it on Enid was a different matter.

“Beautiful,” Wednesday exhaled, watching the twinkle in Enid’s eyes.

Wednesday used to associate blue with the sky, the ocean, blue jays, gas fire, and blue poison dart frogs. Now, however, the color blue reminded her of Enid’s irises.

“Thanks,” Enid responded, dropping her hands to her sides. “I can’t wait to show Yoko and Divina,” she said while she reached into her pocket, retrieving her phone. “I just wanted to show you first. Well, firster, because Thing gave me a hand with my nails.”

Wednesday arched a brow. “Firster?” she repeated with a bemused smile, unable to stop looking at the ridiculous little wolf, who made her heart sing.  

Enid either didn’t hear Wednesday or chose to ignore her remark. Instead, Enid took a picture of her left hand, smiling as she typed away on her phone.

“And…done,” Enid stated while she tucked her phone back into her pocket. “Time to pack.”

Wednesday watched as Enid got onto her hands and knees, crawling partially under Wednesday’s bed.

“Shouldn’t you pack, too?” Enid asked, pulling out her suitcase.

“I did,” Wednesday answered, pointing at the black wooden trunk next to her closet. It was enough to conceal two spare sets of clothes, a nightgown, toiletries, a flashlight, and an extra dagger.

“Oh,” Enid responded, blinking. “Is that all you’re taking with you? Just a small trunk?”

“I was under the impression we were going away for a few days, not a few weeks.”

“Okay, I know I pack a lot,” Enid chuckled softly as she zipped her suitcase open. “But you never know what we’ll be doing there and what kind of clothes we’ll need.”

“I have to say,” Enid added a beat later, “I’m surprised you didn’t pack for me.”

“I thought about it,” Wednesday shared, though she hadn’t done that since they had left Nevermore. The circumstances were different now, although Enid’s way of packing was atrocious. “If you wish—”

“No, no,” Enid interrupted, snagging a handful of hangers from her rack. “I’ve got it.”

“Taking hangers with you again?” Wednesday commented, observing the chaotic little wolf. “Do tell which occasion you’ll need the broken pieces for.”

“Your photographic memory is so unfair,” Enid groaned softly, shaking her clothes off the hangers. Ah, yes, why fold them when they could be crumpled into one colorful ball? No help required. Obviously. “You remember literally everything.”

“When it concerns you, yes,” Wednesday admitted, unable to deny the space Enid had taken in both her heart and mind.  

“Aww,” Enid responded, putting her right hand against her chest. “You’re special to me, too, Wens.”

Not special enough, but Wednesday knew her feelings were unrequited. Enid had confirmed that once more with the list she made. Wednesday wondered what else Enid had scribbled into her journal. Dreams, perhaps, or information regarding the locket Enid kept mentioning in her sleep. Nonetheless, it wasn’t for Wednesday to read.

“Enid,” Wednesday said as she rose to her feet. “May I take a picture of you?” she requested, thinking how she had wanted one since the day she bought her phone.

There had been several opportunities, though it felt important to Wednesday to have Enid’s consent, rather than capture one without asking. Perhaps one day, Wednesday could have an album filled with photographs of the girl who triggered the Addams curse.

“Of course you may,” Enid answered, smiling while she skipped across the room. “Are you going to use it as your background?”

Wednesday swallowed. “Is that okay?”

“More than okay.” Enid grasped Wednesday’s hand and squeezed.

Enid’s touch was growing on Wednesday, so much so that she began to crave Enid’s skin on hers. It was an undeniable sign that Wednesday wasn’t immune to falling in love. And fall she did, as she might off a cliff one day, once Enid courted another.

Wednesday wasn’t certain how she felt about marriage, but the idea of Enid betrothed to someone else was too much to bear.

“I’ve got one of you, remember?” Enid said, stroking Wednesday’s wrist with the pad of her thumb. 

“I do,” Wednesday responded, wriggling her hand free so she could take a picture.

Wednesday didn’t want to let go, but she feared she would do something reckless if she didn’t. Love was a strange, complicated feeling, clouding logic. Enid was her best friend, and she wouldn’t appreciate Wednesday crossing that line any more than Wednesday wanted Xavier or Bianca to do so with her. Wednesday couldn’t take more than Enid was willing to give. There was no room to be selfish.

“Where do you want me?” Enid asked while she gestured at the space around her.  

“Anywhere.” Everywhere.

It didn’t matter as long as Wednesday got one visual memory of Enid, beyond the ones in her mind.

“Do you want my claws in the picture?” Enid questioned, raising her hands. “I know how much you like sharp things, so…it’s your call.”

Wednesday nearly dropped her phone when Enid’s claws extended. The little wolf could puncture Wednesday’s skin, and she would thank her for the pain. What bliss it would be to have Enid leave a mark on her. To be claimed as Enid’s, with raw hunger.

“Perhaps another time,” Wednesday decided, though not for a lack of interest.

Despite the measurements she took to keep others away from her phone, Wednesday couldn’t take the chance that someone would see a picture of Enid’s claws. In addition, Wednesday couldn’t trust a cellular device with such sensitive material. The risk outweighed the benefit.

“You want more pictures of me,” Enid commented, nodding. “Got it.”

Clever little wolf.

Wednesday opened her camera and disabled the flash, for Enid’s smile illuminated the room enough. Wednesday had practiced how to capture pictures for when this moment would arrive, therefore capable of taking one without flipping the screen or covering the lens with her thumb. She had also spent time navigating how to change her background. And thus, at last, Wednesday took her first photograph of Enid.

“For future reference, you can take as many pictures of me as you want,” Enid said, going back to stuffing her suitcase. “You don’t have to ask, unless you need me to pose or if you want to take one of us together or something.”

“Noted,” Wednesday responded as she filed the information away for later.

Enid grabbed her pillow from the bed and looked down at her luggage. “Hmm, I’m definitely going to take this with me when we leave,” the little thief announced. “Can’t sleep without my good pillow, and I’m in love with how amazing this silk cover feels,” she hummed, nuzzling her cheek against the pillow. “You pretty much ruined all sheets that aren’t yours for me.”

“You may take the pillow and even my bedding, but I am not hauling my mattress to Canada.”

“I would kill for a mattress like yours at Nevermore,” Enid exclaimed while she put her pillow back on the bed. “Figuratively, I mean. Not literally,” she added quickly. “Because how can you sleep in that creaky bed on a mattress that may as well be made out of cardboard, when you have such a better option at home. And Nevermore allows students to bring their own furniture, you know. Just ask Yoko.”

If Enid was unhappy with her mattress, Wednesday could arrange a new one to be delivered and placed in their dorm room.

“Hey, Wens,” Enid said as she grabbed her babydoll. “Did you pack your allergy pills?”

“Yes,” Wednesday answered, swallowing when Enid put the lingerie in her suitcase.

“And your cream?” Enid checked, glancing at Wednesday’s trunk.

“Yes,” Wednesday sighed, prepared to show Enid everything she had packed if Enid didn’t believe her.

“Are you sure?” Enid asked, as if Wednesday would travel without either.  

“Don’t roll your eyes at me, Wednesday,” Enid huffed, tone shifting from gentle to stern. “I will not have you breaking out into hives on my watch. This cursed allergy of yours is not something I take lightly, and I know I have in the past, but that was before I knew that your wardrobe is more than an aesthetic.”

Wednesday blinked. “What did you say?”

“I know, I know, you probably don’t see it like an aesthetic at all, but we all have one.”

A cursed allergy. Could it be? Perhaps Wednesday had assumed wrong before.

*** 

Enid put her comb down when her phone vibrated on the marble of the sink. Wednesday spat out her toothpaste in case whoever chose to disturb a quarter before midnight caused Enid distress. Perhaps it was Yoko to complain about Wednesday ignoring most of her messages. Again.

Yoko did say she wanted texts back occasionally, not always. An important distinction, which Wednesday wouldn’t mind pointing out, along with the definition of the word.

“What the heck?” Enid mumbled, frowning at her phone. “My mother broke her foot, her wrist, and three fingers.”

That was unfortunate. Truly. Wednesday would have gone for Esther’s spine to make her recovery much slower and more painful. Regardless, Wednesday welcomed the revenge, however small it was.

“I want you to meet my Uncle Fester,” Wednesday shared, turning on the water to rinse away the remnants of her toothpaste. “When we return from Canada,” she clarified, considering they were leaving in two days.

“If that’s okay,” Wednesday added a beat later.

“I’d love to meet your uncle,” Enid smiled, putting her phone down. “He’s one of your favorite people, right?”

“One of, yes,” Wednesday confirmed, looking at the little wolf who had claimed the number one spot as hers.

“I’m definitely on board with meeting him,” Enid nodded. “And you should tell me more about your family. Maybe on our way to Canada? Because I’m kind of beat and I don’t want to fall asleep on you.”

Wednesday remembered the feeling of Enid falling asleep on her. The touch was too much for Wednesday then. Now, she didn’t hate the idea of Enid’s cheek resting atop her chest, though Wednesday feared her heart would be far too thunderous for Enid to rest.

Enid chewed her lip, gaze flitting down Wednesday’s neck.

“Hey, Wens,” Enid said after a few seconds of silent staring. “What do you think of lockets?”

Wednesday’s breath stalled in her lungs as she considered her answer. “Depends on what’s carried inside,” she settled, curious what had brought this question on.

“But you’d potentially wear one?”

“It would be a shame to break off one of your fangs, Enid. And a locket is far too tiny to hold—”

“Pictures,” Enid blurted out, eyes wide. “I was talking about a locket with pictures inside, of us.”

“I was teasing, little wolf,” Wednesday assured, cupping Enid’s cheek. “I would never take one of your pretty teeth,” Wednesday swore, running her thumb across Enid’s soft, warm lips.

“How do you always do that?” Enid exhaled, hot against Wednesday’s skin.

Wednesday lowered her hand. “Do what, my-myself wonders.”

“Yourself wonders?” Enid chuckled, and Wednesday knew it wasn’t her finest moment, but it was better than calling Enid her love when she wasn’t.

“Hush,” Wednesday said, but when she moved to walk away, Enid blocked her path.

“No, you hush,” Enid insisted, pressing her index finger against Wednesday’s lips for a second. “You don’t get to call me out for saying firster and then shush me when I call you out on something.”

“So, you did hear me,” Wednesday noted, smiling at her little wolf.

“I’m a wolf,” Enid commented, shrugging her shoulders. “I hear everything.”

Wednesday could control her body more than most, though she had no power over her heart. It was as untamable as those thunderstorms Enid adored. Right now, Wednesday’s heart wished for a taste of Enid’s lips. Alas, friends couldn’t kiss each other in that way.

“Oh,” Enid whispered, grasping her phone. “I forgot to text my dad back,” she grimaced as she began typing.

Wednesday opened her bathroom door. “How did it happen?” she asked while she waited for Enid to walk out first.

“She fell into a deep hole in the ground,” Enid answered as she walked past Wednesday.

Wednesday smiled at the knowledge of her uncle digging a grave for Esther. How unfortunate that he didn’t stay there to finish the job.

“Hunter trap, I guess,” Enid mumbled, putting her phone on her bedside table. “Dad had to get a ladder to get her out.”

“And it’s not like I don’t care,” Enid continued as she climbed into bed. “I’m just relieved it didn’t happen to Isla or one of her parents.”

Wednesday had not considered the possibility of innocents getting hurt, though, until now, she was unaware of which gift her uncle had left. Enid would never forgive Wednesday if anything happened to Isla Gray. Then again, Wednesday’s uncle knew that she would gut him if he harmed that child.

Enid scooted closer to Wednesday when she joined her under the sheets. She thought Enid wanted to cuddle with her, but Enid stopped when her face was mere inches from Wednesday’s.

Enid bit her lip. “Is this…Should I move?” she asked, reaching for Wednesday’s hand.

“Stay,” Wednesday answered, intertwining her fingers with Enid’s.

“I could cover my hair with a towel or something.”

“You don’t have to hide any parts of yourself with me, Enid.”

Wednesday didn’t need Enid to cover up her colors. And if her allergy was a curse indeed, Wednesday wouldn’t rest until she was able to break the curse.

“Sweepy,” Enid yawned, smacking her lips in what was becoming one of Wednesday’s favorite Enid sounds. “Night, night, Wens.”

Enid’s eyes fluttered closed, and Wednesday realized why people saw beauty in a butterfly flapping its wings.

“Good night, Enid,” Wednesday whispered, pressing her lips against Enid’s cheek for a second so fleeting she doubted that the sleepy wolf had registered her moment of weakness.