I'd let the world burn (for you)

by SilentRain91

Summary:

When Wednesday sees Enid injured, her world spins out of control. Obviously, the best thing to do is stay by Enid's side no matter what.

***

This story is a rewrite of their hug in the season 1 finale and picks up after that.

Notes:

Hello!

This is my first time writing for this fandom, which is really exciting because I haven't been this drawn to a 'new' fandom in years.

I got sucked into the black void that is Wednesday Addams and couldn't help myself.

Chapter 1

 

 

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 2

Notes:

Did I spend the entire day writing? Yes, I did.
Do I regret it? Of course not.

Anyway, I have decided that I will be alternating between Wednesday and Enid's POV.

 

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.”

 

 

Notes:

*slithers back into the shadows*

Chapter 3

 

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 4

 

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?

 

Notes:

And they were roommates. Again.

Chapter 5

 

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.

 

Notes:

Yeah, this is gay.

Enid's dress

Chapter 6

 

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 7

Notes:

You have no idea how many hours this took me to write.

Anyways, enjoy!

 

“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.

 

Notes:

I don't know if anyone noticed, but I changed the title to my original choice because it sounds more fitting.

 

Also, I had fun writing Wednesday's little adventure with her quirky uncle.

Chapter 8

 

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.”

 

Notes:

If this gets any gayer, they'll be taking "am I gay?" quizzes for each other.

Notes:

To be continued ~