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It was the worst kind of morning. There was blue as far as Wednesday could see, not a single dark cloud to grace her view, and birdsong rang out like clear silver bells. This, Wednesday decided, must be some form of punishment for the miscellaneous sins she had committed in her recent past, although which ones precisely she had some trouble deciding. Could it be for the forced castration of those two awful boys? No, she thought, that had been more an act of clemency towards the world than anything else.
As Wednesday glared out of the window, lost in her musings on the nature of sin, she became so wholly consumed as to forget where she was. So when Enid came slamming into their dormitory, she actually almost jumped.
“Oh my God, Wednesday, you will not believe what I just heard”, she rapidly exclaimed, words jumbling together into her rush to get them out. Wednesday carefully disguised her flinch at both the shock from her arrival and her volume as annoyance.
Not bothering to face Enid, Wednesday continued attempting to bring rain with her thoughts alone. “There’s a half off sale at American Eagle?”, she dryly inquired. If Wednesday were the smiling type, her lips might have even twitched at her own wit.
“No, Xavier is—wait, there’s a sale? I’m on their email list, I can’t believe I missed it!” Enid resumed the rush she had abandoned at the door with new haste, the promise of brightly colored clothing too enticing to chance. “Ugh, Wednesday! I’m not seeing anything about a sale on their website!” She peered closely into her phone as if it held the secret to immortal life, claws threatening to scratch the very screen she held dear.
“How tragic.” Although Wednesday could see Enid’s sorrowful reflection in the window, she finally had to turn to admire the effects of her misdirection in full. Now facing Enid, a spark of amusement dancing in her dark eyes, she began. “Now, what’s this about Xavier? Honestly Enid, I haven’t see you this worked up since—“
Enid frantically looked back up from the shiny allure of an American Eagle sale, the smell of gossip fresh in her lupine nose. “OH. EM. GEE. Wednesday, I was so distracted I almost forgot! It’s crazy , he’s been walking around all day with this weird bandage on his neck. It’s all soaked in blood too, ew, it’s so gross!”
Enid shuddered at the thought, squeamish from the suggestion of the wound and the fashion faux pas she could only imagine was wrapped around Xavier’s neck at the moment. “I wonder if he’s wearing one of the ugly scarves again to cover it… Ugh, I hope not! Wednesday, we should totally bring him a turtleneck or something instead”.
Wednesday stared vacantly at her.
“What?” Enid’s eyes grew wide, “Everyone knows that turtlenecks are a tortured artist staple! It’s perfect for Xavier! Honestly, I’m surprised he doesn’t own one already.” Satisfied with the conclusion of the conversation she had held with herself, Enid turned to her dresser and began to rummage through the dressers. Thing, always a brownnose, scuttled over to help.
Wednesday processed this new information while dodging Enid’s discarded clothes. Thing was oddly strong for being just a disembodied hand and the clothes he meant to toss behind him often flew wildly across the room. As Wednesday jerked at an awful 30 degree angle to avoid a flying pink sweater, she had the sudden realization that, for once, Enid had failed to include every minute detail of a story. “Enid,” she started, voice cutting through the rustling of clothes and Enid’s own quiet murmurs to herself as she searched for the perfect sweater. “How did Xavier get this wound?”
Enid paused, straightening from where she was hunched over the pile of sweaters she hoped would prevent the fashion nightmare she foresaw. “Well that’s just the thing: no one knows! I mean, he says it’s from a fencing accident but who would believe that?” She shook her head and reapplied her lipgloss. Today it was “Kiss Me Pink”, as she called it. Wednesday wasn’t quite sure what the name was supposed to mean, but had learned long ago that it was better not to question Enid on these matters.
Smacking her freshly-tacky lips together, Enid resumed her story. “Personally, I think he might have a secret flame with a darker side”, she waggled her eyebrows ferociously. “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you Wednesday?”
A small crease formed on Wednesday’s forehead. “Xavier’s business is no one’s but his own”, she turned back to the window and renewed her silent prayer for the sky to match her thunderous disposition.
A small black cloud billowed across the landscape of Wednesday’s mind, spewing lightning and hate over the thoughts that grew below it. Xavier? A secret flame? Surely the thought was preposterous, born more from the horrible YA novels Enid had taken to reading than anything else. Enid had taken up the disgusting hobby in a spur of desperation to share more interests with Wednesday over their forced break from Nevermore. Of course, the literature Wednesday was accustomed to was far more along the lines of Lyudmila Ulitskaya than Colleen Hoover but she supposed it was the thought that counted. No, Wednesday frowned imperceptibly, “We would know if Xavier was seeing someone. Secrets come about as naturally to him as they do to you.”
Enid and Thing shared a look behind Wednesday’s back, locking each other into a staredown that lasted at least 30 seconds before Enid finally yielded. “Well we’re down to two options now, Thing! Which do you think Xavier would look best in?”
Thing assuredly tapped his index finger several times on top of the sweater on the left. It was a deep charcoal and the fabric made a soft noise as Thing moved on top of it.
“OK… absolutely not. You are so wrong on this one, sorry! Wednesday, can you help us decide? Thing may have some sense of style but he clearly has no idea about color tones.” Enid turned pleadingly towards Wednesday as Thing made several rude gestures, clearly displeased with having his taste questioned.
Wednesday didn’t move from where she stared resolutely out of the window at the disgracefully clear skies, only her eyes twitching to look at Enid’s reflection in the glass. “No. This is beneath both Thing and myself. If Xavier wishes to parade himself around, then he may so well do and I see no reason to interfere.”
Enid took several quick steps, stopping just behind where Wednesday was sitting. She would have progressed further but the reflection of Wednesday’s harsh glare in the window stopped her. “Oh, please, please, please Wednesday, think of all the poor people’s eyes we’ll be saving! You can’t tell me you’ll be happy being seen with Xavier in a stupid, ugly scarf!”
Enid continued with entreaties, creating an awful screeching that kept Wednesday from her thoughts. “Fine”, she spat out, spinning around and marching across the room to where Enid’s two contenders were laid across the girl’s bed. Surprisingly, neither was wholly awful. Both of the turtlenecks Enid had finally settled on were dark in color, varying only by a few shades. The one on the right—the one that Enid preferred—was just the slightest bit lighter than the one Thing had selected. The sweater on the left was a far richer shade than the one on the right, appearing to suck in the light around it.
It brought Wednesday no small degree of satisfaction then to agree with Thing’s decision, having grown thoroughly annoyed by Enid’s intrusion into her dark thoughts.
“Ugh, no accounting for Addams family taste I guess… but since you helped pick it out, you can come with!”, Enid brightly announced, bouncing over to pick up the sweater.
Wednesday looked at her blankly, thoughts indecipherable behind the porcelain mask of her face. After a near minute passed in this silence, Enid shifted uncomfortably. “Well played, Enid. I suppose my cunning has finally rubbed off on you.”
To the trained ear, a hint of pride could even be detected in Wednesday’s voice.
“Eee, yay! Does that mean you’ll come?” And the pride was extinguished as quickly as the flame took light.
Not bothering to grace Enid’s undignified squealing with a reply, Wednesday simply stood up and made for the door. She paused with her hand on the doorknob, turning as if to ask if Enid was coming.
Enid did a little happy wiggle where she stood. “Perf, let me just grab my snood to stay warm,” she glanced around at the destruction the search for the perfect sweater had wrought. “Or… maybe not.”
Wednesday resumed her march out of the room before realizing she, frankly, had no idea where they were going to find Xavier nor did she possess the proffered sweater they were to lend him. Luckily, Enid quickly caught up and her excitement carried swiftly through the halls.
With the promise of fresh blood and a mystery to prod at, perhaps this morning would shape up to be torture after all.