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Raindrops pattered quietly against the large circular window, trailing over the colored and clear panes in a slow race to puddle onto the balcony space as the two inhabitants of the room behind it worked diligently at their studies. Wednesday sat bent over a set of books, left hand pressed roughly into her temple, right hand feverishly taking down notes between the sparce ones she’d taken during class. Inadequate teaching, she continually thought, filling in blanks and conclusions, jotting down questions and keywords along the margin to address the next time they entered the classroom.
From across the room, she could hear the faint tinkles of music emerging from her roommates’ headphones. She’d learned to tune out those sounds, as she’d learned to tune out the gentle hum that accompanied them, the twirling of Enid’s pen at the edge of her hair, and the soft shifting of fabric against fabric as her leg bounced with the need to prance around the dorm room. Her eyes lifted from the words in front of her, the sounds behind her becoming too much, as they sometimes did.
“Enid,” Wednesday called, hearing her quiet hmph, “Two minutes.”
The tiny squeal she made instantly curled Wednesday’s top lip in a grimace and she heard Enid’s pen and headphones drop before the music flooded the room and she raised her palms to her ears. It was a small sacrifice Wednesday allowed, knowing it would still her roommate for a minimum of thirty minutes afterwards. Her eyes continued to scan the books in front of her, knowing the display of foolish bouncing, twirling, and wild hand gestures going on behind her in vivid technicolor.
To her credit, exactly 120 seconds after the music erupted, it quieted again, recaptured and contained within the pink cat-eared headphones Enid dropped back onto her head with a smug smile as she sat down, body calmed. Wednesday’s hands settled back on her space and she inhaled in tandem with Enid, but on her exhale, Enid proclaimed an odd set of words Wednesday failed to interpret.
“We should totally have a sleepover!”
Turning ever so slightly, Wednesday responded evenly, “Enid, we live in the same room, every night, technically, is a sleepover.”
She could see the shake of her head out of her peripheral, the swish of pink and blue hair, could see the headphones were now off, silenced, and being set down. Telltale signs of the beginnings of a conversation Wednesday wasn’t sure she had the patience for. Straightening, she looked towards her companion, seeing the thoughts swirling before they emerged at dizzying speed.
“Obviously we live in the same room, Wednesday, but we live on different sides, sometimes we’re practically on different continents, it feels – but a sleepover would require sharing space.”
Wednesday stared at her bright smile, blinded by it in the moment as much as she was dumbfounded by her statement. Her eyes traced the space between them and then the space from the door to the window. A continental divided it did not make.
“Sometimes you take things too seriously,” Enid told her with a soft frown, beginning to turn back towards her homework, headphones already plucked up into her hands.
“I take everything seriously, Enid,” she responded, voice wavering, unsure. She watched Enid snap the headphones back over her ears and then lean into her desk, eyes drifting over her own books, pen doodling on the notebook next to it. She took nothing seriously, it seemed sometimes. The contradiction unnerved Wednesday.
Enid scored well enough without a care.
“I suppose I’ve never had a proper sleepover,” Wednesday admitted.
Enid didn’t stir, simply bit her lip and wrote a line of notes. Wednesday stood and drifted across the room, coming to stand beside her, waiting until her eyes slowly lifted from the page to meet hers curiously. The headphones came off, dropped unceremoniously around her neck.
“The concept doesn’t evade me – I was simply under the impression that us sharing a room would constitute a sleepover, but perhaps I’ve never truly had a sleepover.” Wednesday took a breath. Knew she would regret asking before she opened her mouth to say, “What would having an actual sleepover entail?”
The chair slid back roughly, and Enid’s face was inches from hers fast enough for Wednesday to jerk in response. There was a new twinkle in the blue eyes she stared into and it sparked a slight bit of fear she hadn’t anticipated – something she continually, internally, commended Enid on.
“Girly things,” Enid said with a devious smile, hands clasping together in front of her, shoulders shrugging high, body giving a little upward motion, as though – Wednesday thought – she might just float away at the thought.
Nodding, Wednesday stated simply, “Define.”
Hands coming up, Enid began ticking off fingers, “Oh, a make-up sesh, hair styling, nail polish, boy talking, movie watching, popcorn eating, secret revealing, pajama wearing, pillow fighting, all while piled into the same sleeping space – it’s a true bonding experience!”
“You understand these are all things I despise,” Wednesday reminded.
Pointing, Enid stated, “Not true, you enjoy secret revealing.”
Brow rising, Wednesday conceded, “This is true.”
“And obviously we wouldn’t want to aggravate your allergies,” Enid sighed, mouth twisting, “Oh, but that doesn’t mean you can’t apply your style to me, right?”
Staring, Wednesday’s mind processed the information and she asked, “You want me to do your makeup, hair, and nail polish?”
Her nod was simple and quick. Her eyes were desperate. Enid, she realized, was begging. Politely.
Wednesday gave in. “Your terms are acceptable.”
“Oh my God, ok,” Enid gasped. “Homework is totally done.” Wednesday opened her mouth to object, but Enid pointed, “Mattresses, under the window! Pajamas, we’ve got those. Popcorn, I’ve got chips stashed, drat, wait, I just brushed my teeth. Movie – you hate the movies I like, we’ll scratch that. Bring your make-up stuff and your questions – those I know you have enough for the both of us. First real sleepover, that should be enough.”
Enid moved towards her wardrobe and searched, snatching pajamas to rush to the bathroom, leaving Wednesday standing at the edge of her desk in confusion. And slightly overwhelmed. Looking to her side of the room, she whispered, “Mattress,” and then made her way towards it, looking to Thing who sat flipping through a magazine while lying leisurely. He signed up at her quickly.
You’re really going to do this?
“Aren’t you the one always telling me I should try new things?” Wednesday chastised, looking at the middle finger he offered in response before shrugging, “It’s Enid, she’s harmless.” She grabbed hold of the edge of her mattress and yanked hard as Thing rushed off with his magazine.
Bringing it over the edge of the bedframe and tugging it up, Wednesday dragged it across to the center of the room like a dead body and dropped it in front of her side of the window. Looking to Enid’s mattress, she frowned and then went into her closet to change into her pajamas, not wanting to wait for whatever Enid was up to. When she emerged, it was to see the other girl dropping her mattress just beside hers, a wide smile stretching her lips.
Wednesday reminded herself to roll her eyes when Enid brought her hands up together, just underneath her neck, because some part of her took pleasure in seeing the girl happy. Was it bonding? She didn’t chance to question it before she went to retrieve her makeup bag to bring to her mattress as Enid fell into it, a bright splash of color atop the black and grey of her comforter. Like a stain she’d spilled on purpose.
“So, I have a question,” Enid sang as Wednesday sat carefully in front of her, mind still not quite understanding what was happening, or why Enid was so interested in having it happen. She nodded silently, fishing for her eyeshadow and lipstick, an item Enid picked out of her hand easily, holding between them. “It’s kind of a plum.”
“That’s not a question,” Wednesday replied.
“You’re allergic to color,” Enid stated.
“Still not a question,” she watched Enid’s left eyebrow rise slightly, knowing she knew exactly what she was asking and she took the lipstick from her, gesturing at her to move forward so she could apply it. “I’m not, strictly speaking, allergic to color – I’m allergic to the dyes used in the products.”
Enid asked quietly, “So you’re not allergic to me?”
The question almost made her smile, but she tucked it away, raising her hand to take Enid’s chin between her thumb and forefinger, holding her breath as the dark color moved across her lips. “No, Enid,” she sighed. “I’m not allergic to you, just the dyes in… almost everything you own.”
“Cause I thought the hug thing was,” she gestured at her pink pajamas. “But you’re really just not a hugger.”
“I’m allergic to affection,” Wednesday teased.
Enid sighed in response, “Guess I have to find a dye-free version of that then.” She smiled at her own joke and Wednesday watched her lips part, the plum color somehow more vibrant on her than it had ever looked on Wednesday, and she swallowed against how she found herself liking it. Perhaps, she considered, she could buy her a new color palette for Christmas.
Shaking the thought away, Wednesday capped and dropped the lipstick into her little bag and she began removing her eye shadow collection, lying a few down in front of Enid to choose from. “Which shade?”
“They’re literally the same,” Enid stated.
“There are four different tones,” Wednesday corrected.
“Of grey,” Enid pointed out with a simple bob of her head.
“You wanted to do this,” Wednesday snapped.
Enid raised her hands, then grabbed one and handed it to her. Wednesday reached into her bag and removed more and Enid tilted forward, trying to get a better peek at them, wondering how she’d blend them together, but Wednesday eyed her as she hid them and Enid twisted her lips, falling back on her rear end. Wednesday inched closer.
“We’re not really revealing secrets,” she told Enid. “I thought that was part of the purpose of this?”
“Did you really kill two kids at your last school?” Enid questioned. “Or are you just trying to build a reputation because I can assure you, on looks alone, your reputation is sealed around here.”
“Does that mean you earned a reputation for your attire?” Wednesday asked.
“No, my reputation was…” Enid trailed and then sat straight, “Don’t avoid the question.” Then her eyes widened, “Did you really kill two kids at your last school?”
Shaking her head with an exaggerated sigh, Wednesday offered, “It’s possible, but that would require the heathen in question to procreate at some point in life which, I would prefer he not.” She looked to Enid’s confused expression and clarified, “I dropped piranhas in the gym swimming pool and their star polo player lost a testicle.”
“Why…” Enid began, “Why would you do that?”
“They’d been bullying my younger brother – only I get to bully Pugsley.” She watched Enid nod, understanding crossing her features. “What earned you your reputation?”
Enid visibly squirmed and Wednesday gestured for her to straighten as she moved to begin applying eye shadow. “Being an outcast at Nevermore, your ability is your thing – imagine being a werewolf who couldn’t wolf out.”
“My father made a name for himself here without an ability,” Wednesday offered. “It isn’t your ability that makes you who you are – your prowess at finding out information keeps you entangled in the social scene and makes you a valuable asset to anyone, especially someone like me come in from the outside.”
Her sigh was quiet and Wednesday watched her lips quiver slightly. “Thank you, but, I’m not really entangled. I try to keep up so I don’t get left out again.” Wednesday stopped applying eyeshadow, considering her words – most notably the again – and then she leaned back to admire her work as Enid blinked her eyes open and gestured to the room, “Plus side is, I had this whole room to myself for a few years.”
“Because you couldn’t wolf out?” Wednesday questioned.
She nodded, head bowing before she leaned forward to close her eyes again and let Wednesday continue on her other eye. “Principal Weems wouldn’t say it outright but I’ve got good ears – I know what everyone was saying. And I certainly know what my mom says every time I talk to her – Enid, honey, have you… wolfed out yet?”
Wednesday nodded, then – to Enid’s closed eyes – she stated, “My mother doesn’t even know I’ve started having visions.”
“Why haven’t you told her?” The question was gentle, not prying as it might have sounded from Wednesday.
She considered it before shrugging, then telling her, “I don’t know.”
“Your mom’s a Dove, isn’t she?” Enid’s eyes opened as soon as Wednesday shifted back, a curious smile on her lips. Wednesday swallowed hard against how differently her gaze could be perceived with the change in color across her pale features.
Wednesday only nodded, then supplied, “I thought we were revealing secrets.”
“Usually the secrets that get revealed are about crushes on boys, so unless you have pertinent information to fess up at the risk of becoming an exposé on my blog…” Enid smiled up at her deviously. Wednesday hesitated, then shook her head. “Girl crushes then? All love, no judgment here.”
“The only thing I crush are weak hearts and souls,” Wednesday told her sternly.
Eyes rolling, Enid leaned back on her palms and replied honestly, “That might sound scary to normies, but to us it’s just another… Wednesday. You don’t crush hearts or souls, you just insult the shit out of people in brutally honest ways.”
Ouch. “They deserve it.”
One hand coming up, Enid held it flat and then wiggled it while scrunching her nose. “Most of the time.” She smiled calmly at her, no doubt, Wednesday knew, knowing she’d taken her down a peg and then Enid nodded towards her. “You’ve really never had a crush?”
Wednesday shook her head.
“On anyone?”
She narrowed her eyes at her, intending to be menacing, but it instead elicited a smirk. One that looked far too entertained with the current color on her lips.
“So, you’ve never held hands, or kissed, or had devious thoughts – please,” she straightened before she leaned forward, hands dancing in her lap – resisting the urge to take hold of Wednesday’s – as she finished, “Tell me you’ve had devious thoughts that aren’t related to murdering or maiming someone.”
She was ashamed to feel the blush rising at her neck and tease at her cheeks. “Those aren’t things I preoccupy myself with.”
Exhale coming out roughly, Enid timidly asked, “You aren’t even curious?”
“Why would I be?” Wednesday spat, feeling insulted.
Her fingers twisted in her lap as she shrugged. “I don’t know, Wednesday, because it’s usually human nature to want to seek out companionship and we’re at that age where there should be new feelings and new developments and that curiosity should be blossoming and driving you insane.”
Packing her makeup away, Wednesday told her dryly, “You’re just talking about hormones, Enid. I have hormones, I just keep them in check.”
Pointing, Enid mockingly asked, “You demand answers for everything else, why do you close your curiosity door about this, Wednesday?”
“It makes me uncomfortable,” she blurted, the makeup bag rattling in her hands, Enid gasping and freezing in front of her. “I’m not immune to the effects of puberty or adolescence, Enid, I’m just not overrun by them.”
“Like I am,” Enid whispered.
Wednesday stared at her offense, looked to the space around them and remembered the point of the whole thing. Bonding, she reminded herself. Not shutting her out, but letting her in. A difficult task for Wednesday to accept.
“It’s Enid, she’s harmless,” she heard herself telling Thing again. What a foolish thing to think, she knew. In just a few short weeks, the girl had managed to read her better than anyone ever had.
“You’re a werewolf, it’s in your programming to be somewhat obsessed with finding a mate, continuing your lineage – I don’t fault you for that. It’s a weakness, but one that makes biological sense. I apologize for snapping.”
Enid only nodded.
“I am curious,” Wednesday admitted. “I choose not to dwell because I don’t understand any of it anyways, so there’s no point.”
Her hand came up to cross the space between them, but Wednesday watched it pull back – out of fear or respect, she was too afraid to ask – and she set it back against her other, nodding and telling her softly, “That’s sort of the point of something like this Wednesday. There’s a whole hell of a lot I don’t understand either, but it’s nice knowing I can ask you and even if you don’t know either, we can… hypothesize together?” She nodded. “I’m sorry for pushing. I’m not very good at figuring out limits sometimes.”
“A sleepover is like a science experiment between friends,” Wednesday said simply, looking up at her. “We can share ideas, theories, clues, and come up with conclusions while also experimenting with new ideas or notions.”
“Yeah,” Enid breathed. “I guess you could put it like that.”
“Why do you talk about kissing so much?”
The question was shot like a bullet into Enid and she recoiled before staring into Wednesday, trying to figure out if it were some sort of joke or if she was serious. Immediately she could see she was serious and Enid knew her best recourse was to NOT make a joke in response.
“It… I dunno, I suppose it… feels good?”
“All love, no judgment,” Wednesday reminded sternly before stating firmly, “Show me.”
“What?” Enid said.
“I don’t understand why anyone would want to…” she grimaced at the thought, and then Wednesday composed herself and nodded to Enid. “Show me.”
Enid blinked heavily, the dark eyeshadow making her eyes stand out in a way that turned Wednesday’s stomach, or perhaps, she considered, it was the unspoken question she’d asked of her friend. “I just want to be absolutely clear,” Enid began slowly. “You want me to show you how kissing feels good?”
“My hypothesis has always been that it does not.” Her words were clinical enough that Enid smiled. “My conclusion cannot be formed without experimentation – you are often a willing participant of such indulgences and thus, a good candidate for trial.”
Enid opened and closed her mouth multiple times, but said nothing, instead staring into Wednesday, trying to find the flaw in her logic. She finally responded with a quiet, “Yeah, that makes total sense, I guess.”
“This doesn’t leave this room,” Wednesday remarked, eyeing Enid. “And when I say that, it includes digital transference of data from your laptop in said room to the outside world via your blog.”
Don’t tell anyone I’m going to kiss Wednesday Addams. “Got it.” Perfectly normal sleepover experience. Totally do this with all my two friends.
“Is there anything I should do, or know before we begin?” Wednesday asked.
Enid watched her fiddling with her pajamas, something that struck her as very un-Wednesday-like, and then she watched her clasp her hands together in her lap, straightening her posture to look up at her expectantly. Waiting, Enid knew, for instruction. She nodded slowly, trying to relax.
“This isn’t a very objective experiment,” Enid told her truthfully. “You should know that – how you feel about this could vary, trial to trial.”
Wednesday considered her words and nodded. “So, we should do this multiple times for me to formulate an opinion?”
Enid was struck with the honesty of the question and she steeled her heart against the notion that it was. An honest question for an honest experiment. She swallowed her disappointment to tell her, “No, you just might feel differently with me as you would with, say, Xavier, or your stupid barista.”
“Understood, this is entirely a reflection on you.”
“No,” Enid corrected sharply. “It’s like… it’s like chemistry,” she began, trying to figure out how to explain it to Wednesday. “Sometimes chemicals don’t mix well.” Wednesday nodded. “Sometimes the reaction takes a minute, ok? No jumping to conclusions before we give it a good stir, ok?”
They stared at one another.
“I’m gonna need you to do something you don’t like doing around other people,” Enid began, waiting for Wednesday to nod. “Close your eyes.” She raised her brow when the other girl obliged instantly.
Enid could feel her own heart thundering in her chest, she wondered momentarily what Wednesday was feeling. She had no clue the other girl was struggling to keep her composure. Wednesday swallowed roughly past a throat that had dried for no good reason as she waited.
Her lips touched gently, almost carefully, and she held them there for only two seconds before slipping back, leaving Wednesday merely more confused. Wednesday could still feel the ghost of her lips and the warmth they’d brought and she frowned. It wasn’t enough to form any sort of opinion, it had simply stopped the function of her mind.
Enid exhaled and nodded.
“That was… too quick,” Wednesday told her. “Again.”
This time Enid’s lips touched with urgency, pushing Wednesday’s lips apart just enough for Wednesday to taste her own lipstick and a hint of Enid’s toothpaste mingled in a curious way. Enid began to shift back and Wednesday reached to stop her, holding her in place to part her lips and deepen the kiss in a way she’d only seen her parents do. In a way she swore to herself she’d never succumb to, but… Enid was right.
It felt good. Wait. Wednesday dropped back, letting Enid go and hearing her small whimper before she dropped back on the mattress and they both stared at one another curiously. Enid immediately took the feelings she felt, folded them up like a stubborn fitted sheet, and crammed them into a closet in her mind, shifting her features into a welcome smile as she nodded to Wednesday. She watched her lift her hand to strum across her bottom lip.
“Does it always linger like this?” Wednesday asked quietly. “Like you’re still… here?”
Enid bit her bottom lip slightly and let it slide out slowly. “I suppose it depends on the person – the chemicals, the mixing stuff I said earlier.”
Wednesday was nodding, eyes settled on Enid’s lips and the way the plum now sat smudged as her smile faded away. “I was wrong,” Wednesday admitted. “I’m never wrong.”
Dropping her eyes to the dark bedding she was curling her hands into, Enid asked, “What were you wrong about, Wednesday?”
“My hypothesis,” she told her plainly, easing the tremor in her to continue, “I suppose with an experienced partner, even your first kiss can be pleasurable.”
“That was my first kiss,” Enid admitted, eyes coming up to meet Wednesday’s.
Wednesday replayed dozens of conversations, she was sure Enid had talked of kissing boys before, of wanting to kiss them. Of wanting… wanting. Oh. She tore her eyes away from her lips to stare at the place where her hands were dug into the darkness and she nodded slowly, asking, “Sleepovers are for firsts then.”
“Firsts,” Enid repeated shyly on a soft laugh that tickled Wednesday in an odd way.
She resisted the urge to stop Enid’s hands from disappearing any further into her quilt as she posited, “We could finish our homework? Help each other through the botany?”
“First homework I actually finish on time – what a terrible influence you are on me, Wednesday Addams,” Enid told her, meeting her eyes and smirking.
They each stood, falling clumsily against one another before separating to retrieve their books, each landing back on their respective mattresses facing one another. Wednesday found she couldn’t concentrate on anything in front of her, and instead settled on focusing on the buzz still hugging at her lips. She smiled, ever so briefly and when she glanced up, she saw Enid had noticed, offering her a crooked smile of her own.
“We should definitely add this to our repertoire of activities,” Wednesday offered.
Enid lifted her head, smile fading, eyebrows rising. And then the tension Wednesday hadn’t even noticed melted out of her and she nodded, tapping at Wednesday’s knee with her pen before resuming her note taking, voice quietly humming a tune Wednesday recognized as she’d played it on the cello outside of their window not long ago. The notion settled warmly in her chest, joining the butterflies fluttering up from her gut and she looked to Enid, understanding the girl had become her greatest mystery.