Chapter Text
2018
Pyeongchang, South Korea
Enid is nervous.
She’s been nervous lots of times before. It’s totally normal for an athlete to be nervous. She’s gotten better at taking deep breaths and counting to ten and trying to focus on everything around her to distract her mind to stop herself from getting too anxious, especially before a run.
She likes music too. That helps a lot. Music and clenching and unclenching her fists and deep, deep breaths, feeling the cool mountain air on her skin and letting it blow her hair around and rustle the snow at her feet.
But right now, nothing seems to be working. Maybe because Enid isn’t nervous about competing right now. She’s nervous about meeting Wednesday Addams.
Wednesday Addams is a skiing prodigy. Both of her parents are gold medalists several times over. Even her little brother is tearing up every competition he’s in. Their whole family is full of talent and Wednesday seems to be the best of them, streaking down mountains and beating out her competition without breaking a sweat.
Wednesday Addams is also the other youngest member of Team USA this Olympics. Her and Enid are both sixteen, both young phenoms who stormed the way to the top of the standings and earned the right to compete. So, naturally, the media just has to pair Wednesday and Enid together when talking about everything. They’ve been creating all sorts of storylines and scheduling them to do promo and media together as soon as they both get to South Korea.
Enid’s now waiting in her freshly washed team gear to be brought inside for a day of photos and videos and being asked dozens of questions by dozens of reporters, wondering if Wednesday’s here already or if she’s running late. But it turns out, Enid’s the late one, because when she’s brought in, Wednesday’s there waiting for her.
She doesn’t look as scary as she does in all of her pictures. But she still does look scary, her eyes dark and face pale and braids neat as she looks Enid up and down, probably offended that she had to wait.
Enid swallows.
“Howdy,” she holds a hand out to shake, “I’m Enid.”
Wednesday just glares at her, her gaze as cold as ice. Enid’s face scrunches up in annoyance because she doesn’t need the attitude right now.
“Fine,” Enid huffs, “By the end of this, I bet you we’ll be friends.”
Wednesday doesn’t look amused at all. “I doubt it. I’m not here to make friends.”
“But it’s the Olympics,” Enid retorts, and she can feel her face growing hot with irritation because the one person she thought she could get along with seems to not care. “The whole point is to make friends with everyone.”
“The whole point is to prove that you’re the best of the best,” Wednesday narrows her eyes, “And that’s what I aim to do.”
They stare each other down, Enid not wanting to give in, but then she notices how Wednesday has freckles, dotting the bridge of her nose and her cheeks like snow falling from the sky, and it almost makes her smile because it doesn’t help when Wednesday’s trying to be intimidating.
They get called away and Enid’s able to finally take a breath, realizing she’s even more nervous than before, her heart racing faster than ever.
- - -
Wednesday knows that as much as all of this is a drag and her own version of hell, it’s necessary. She’s going to be professional about it like her parents taught her to be, because there’s no use in pissing off every one who is supposed to be helping her.
Enid is a different story, though. She doesn’t have to like Enid no matter how hard they try to force this narrative about them. She can muster up enough to be nice for the cameras, or as nice as she wants to be, and then go back to not caring about her ever again.
So for now, Wednesday puts up with the speed round of questions they have her asking Enid. Enid sits in front of the camera with a grin brighter than the lights shining down on her, letting the hair and makeup team add their finishing touches while Wednesday watches.
There’s a thought that floats through Wednesday’s mind, like a flash of lightning, that Enid doesn’t need any of their adjustments because she already looks great. But she quickly pushes that thought away once they’re ready to film.
“Okay. What do you have for me?” Enid asks, that grin blinding, and Wednesday clears her throat, ready to get it over with as soon as possible.
“Tell us your middle name,” she reads off the first line of questions she’s been giving.
“Phoebe.”
“Tell us one fact about yourself.”
“I’m allergic to chocolate,” Enid sighs, “Sadly.”
“Who is one artist you want to see live?”
“Paramore!” Enid beams excitedly, “‘Cause they’re always in town when I have competitions and my mom thinks they’re bad role models so she won’t let me see them.”
Then, Enid’s eyes go wide. “Wait. Can you delete that last part?” she stutters, breathing a sigh of relief when someone from behind the camera nods back a yes to her. “Okay. Next question.”
“What is your favorite pre-competition snack?” Wednesday asks, trying not to look bored with the surface-level questions she’s been given and will probably have to answer after this.
“Uncrustables. They should sponsor me!” Enid winks, and Wednesday almost forgets to ask the next question.
“Who is an athlete you look up to?”
“Wednesday Addams,” she teases, “Just kidding. But not really.”
The crew thinks it’s funny so they say they’ll keep that in, and Wednesday rolls her eyes.
“What Olympic sport would you be participating in if you weren’t a snowboarder?” she asks, and this one actually interests her.
“Hockey, definitely,” Enid answers eagerly, “I played until a few years ago when snowboarding got serious. That’s where this scar is from, a hockey fight.”
Enid leans forwards towards the camera to point at a scar ghosting the bridge of her nose. Wednesday’s surprised by the answer, because even if snowboarding is just as exhilarating, she couldn’t imagine someone as bubbly as Enid fighting someone. She does admit that she finds it amusing.
Wednesday straightens herself in her seat, relieved that she’s made it to the bottom of her seat. “Lastly, tell us one hobby you enjoy.”
“Crocheting!” Enid blurts out, but before she can start going off tangent about it, they’re stopped.
“That’s time,” a crew member says, going to take the mic clipped on Enid’s collar off, and she nods a thanks to him.
“Your turn,” she smirks, shooing Wednesday out of her seat with her smile as bright as ever. She clears her throat as they get Wednesday settled and ready for the cameras.
“Tell us your middle name,” Enid says, watching her curiously.
“Friday.”
Enid giggles, and Wednesday watches how her eyes crinkle as she laughs and how she would be offended if Enid wasn’t so endearing.
“Who is one artist you’d want to see live?” Enid asks after she’s calmed down.
“Chavela Vargas,” Wednesday answers, still stoic, “Unfortunately that would never happen.”
Enid tilts her head. “Why not?”
“Because she’s dead.”
Enid blinks, sucking in a breath. Wednesday thinks it’s fun to catch her off guard. “Oh. Well, um, what is your favorite pre-competition snack?”
“Perhaps a nice bar of chocolate,” Wednesday smirks, and Enid just scoffs at the fact that she’s teasing her. But she doesn’t seem too irritated, she seems to like the banter.
“Who is an athlete you look up to?” Enid asks with a raise of her eyebrows, eager to hear the answer.
“Enid Sinclair,” she deadpans, and Enid perks up, but only for a moment, “I am actually kidding, though.”
Enid rolls her eyes, but just like the last answer, Wednesday can tell that she’s actually enjoying it.
“What Olympic sport would you be playing if you weren’t a skier?" Enid asks with a grin.
“Fencing,” Wednesday replies, and Enid hums in response, seeming to picture it in her head for a moment before her eyes drift to the bottom of her paper.
“And last question, tell us one hobby you enjoy.”
She’s eyeing Wednesday curiously, the blue in her eyes bright under the lights. Wednesday doesn’t know why she hopes that Enid is satisfied with her answer.
“Playing the cello,” Wednesday tells her, taking a quick breath, “Or writing my novel.”
Enid snickers. “I said one, silly.”
“And you said question, yet you didn’t ask one,” Wednesday retorts.
Somehow, they’ve managed to build up chemistry when Wednesday had set out to annoy her, and she’s not bothered in the slightest. Wednesday has to admire it, and as Enid grins and heads over to the next station, she can’t help but feel the tiniest bit of respect growing inside of her.
- - -
Enid learns a lot more about Wednesday, even if she’s trying to be as vague as possible talking about anything. She's fluent in Spanish, German, French, and Latin. She can hold her breath for six minutes. She once had a pet scorpion as a kid, until it was run over by bullies. Enid winces at the last part, but she still feels bad because it seems to be the most bothered Wednesday looks when it comes up in conversation.
Enid thinks that even if she’s terrifying, she’s fascinating. She’s so different from her in every way, yet Enid wants to get to know her even more. Especially because as talented as they both are, they’re new to all of this and she wants somebody to hang out with that gets what she’s going through.
Of course, Wednesday is opposite in that regard too. She disappears during their lunch break, Enid left to eat her pasta alone, hoping that when she’s in the village soon she’ll be able to make more friends. She could use more of those.
Wednesday returns right on time, and they go into more interviews, this time from local journalists, and Enid’s grinning because she finally gets to use the Korean she’s been working on for years.
The journalists are surprised too, Enid blushing as she explains it’s because she loves K-pop so much, but they’re impressed anyways. Even more impressed than them is Wednesday, who Enid sees has been watching her with a curious look on her face.
“You speak Korean?” Wednesday asks as soon as they’re done, her perception of Enid slowly shifting the more she learns about her.
“I know a bit,” Enid shrugs, and Wednesday squints back at her.
“That seemed a lot more than a bit.”
“Impressive, huh?” Enid snickers, and something about her laugh makes Wednesday perk up for a moment before remembering she needs to focus.
“Sure.”
Then they’re ushered over to take photos, Wednesday hanging back for a second to collect herself, putting on an unimpressed face as she remembers she’s not supposed to be distracted by any of this.
- - -
Enid’s never been more excited in her entire life. She’s an Olympian. The word rings in her head and rolls off her tongue so easily that it seems like it’s a dream.
The best part of it all is that for most of her time here, she doesn’t have to be around her mom. She gets to stay in the village and get the whole experience. She can finally compete without having to go home to be berated and criticized all night before locking herself in her room.
The excitement is short lived though, because she learns her roommate is none other than Wednesday Addams.
At first, Enid wants to be annoyed, because Wednesday is so stubborn and probably won’t be any fun with how locked in she is and it could ruin her entire time. But then again, Wednesday wasn’t as rude as she could have been at their media day, so Enid wants to be optimistic and hope the two of them will work. Especially when they’re still going to have everyone following them around during their entire time here.
She scans her keycard and is greeted by Wednesday unpacking her things, eyes going wide when she sees who’s just walked through the door.
“Enid?” she gasps, and Enid smiles smugly.
“Howdy Wednesday,” she greets, pushing past her to the empty side of the room to drop her things. Wednesday just watches her the whole time in disbelief until she finally realizes that this isn’t some joke.
“Did they not have other snowboarders to room you with?” she asks, and Enid shrugs.
“There’s an uneven number of us. Plus it would make sense for us to be roommates, we’re the same age.”
Wednesday knows Enid is right, as much of a pain as it is. She hopes that Enid out of all people will understand her need for order and routine, being an athlete herself, but she needs to make sure
“I expect you to keep your things separate from mine and to not cause any disturbance when I am trying to rest,” Wednesday lectures her, and Enid nods.
“Promise,” Enid grins, “I get how stressful all of this is.”
Her shoulders droop, a flicker of unease in her eyes that Wednesday knows she can’t let throw her off.
“I’m not stressed,” Wednesday corrects her, “I just want to make sure I can maintain my routine in an unfamiliar environment.”
Enid nods. “Totes fair. Not one piece of my clothing will be found on your side of the room,” she says with a grin, and Wednesday can tell that she’s being genuine.
“Thank you,” Wednesday tells her, wondering if Enid can really keep that promise, something telling her that she won’t actually be that bothered if she doesn’t.
They both unpack in silence, until Enid succumbs to jet lag and falls asleep clutching a stuffed unicorn tight to her chest. Wednesday finds herself glancing over to her side of the room more than she should, wanting to find the sight childish, but she doesn’t. Enid, like her, is competing on the world’s biggest stage as a teenager. She’s here because she’s the best of the best. Wednesday thinks she can at least tolerate her for a week, and as she crawls into bed, she lets the sound of Enid’s snoring lull her to sleep.
- - -
Enid is gone when Wednesday wakes up the next morning. Her family wants to spend the day together before the opening ceremony, and as much as Wednesday would like to explore the city, she knows they’re not going to make it far without them getting stopped for pictures and autographs.
Wednesday’s used to it. Even at her own events, everyone would be talking about her parents and the legacy she had to live up to and how disappointing it would be for her to not follow in their footsteps.
She tries not to let the pressure get to her. She tells herself that it’s just another competition, that she can write her own story and make her own mark without being stuck in her parents’ shadow, that she knows they’ll be proud of her no matter what, that what everyone else says doesn’t matter.
But for now, she has to put up with the expectations and the fanfare. It doesn’t take long for them to leave the restaurant they’re having lunch in for some fans to spot them and get to talking.
Wednesday takes a step away, still never having grown used to all of the cameras and questions even though she’s been in the spotlight for a while now. That’s when she hears more voices from not far down the street.
“We fly all the way out here for you and you don’t want to even spend time with us,” a woman is shouting from around the corner.
“Because all you’re going to do is judge me for every little thing I do!” another voice retorts, “Can’t you just be happy that I’ve made it?”
Wednesday recognizes Enid’s voice immediately, but she doesn’t feel like she should intervene. The woman who’s arguing with her must be her mother.
“Nobody is going to remember you if you don’t place,” Enid’s mother scolds, “You’ll just fade into obscurity and they’ll regret wasting a spot on a child.”
Those words make Wednesday’s brow furrow, anger sparking in her chest. It’s such a nasty thing to say to anyone, especially your own daughter.
“I don't need this right now,” Enid retorts, shaking her head and storming off, right around the corner to where Wednesday had been watching from. Wednesday doesn’t have time to run off when Enid spots her.
“Wednesday,” she gasps, and Wednesday can see tears glazing her eyes. The sight makes the anger in Wednesday bloom into a forest fire.
“Enid, are you alright?” she asks, surprised at how quickly she’s grown concerned, but she can’t stand to see anyone, especially someone as bubbly as Enid, be berated like this.
Enid nods. “I’m fine,” she says, but Wednesday knows it’s a lie.
Wednesday doesn’t know what to say exactly, she’s never been one to understand all of these emotions, but she does know she wants to say something to make Enid feel better. Of course, she doesn’t have long to think because her mother is calling her over.
“Wednesday! Come and join the photo!” she shouts, waving a hand at Wednesday, but she ignores her.
“You should go spend time with them,” Enid tells her, forcing a smile on her face, “I’ll see you tonight.”
Wednesday doesn’t have time to argue because Enid’s already bounding off, leaving Wednesday burning even with the winter chill ghosting her skin.
- - -
By the time Wednesday gets back to her room, it’s already time to get ready for the opening ceremony. Enid’s finishing up her makeup and is already wearing the ridiculous sweater they’ve been given, yet somehow she pulls it off flawlessly.
“Howdy,” she says, biting her lip hoping Wednesday doesn’t bring up what she had seen earlier. Luckily, Wednesday doesn’t want to talk about it either, just wanting to get the ceremony over with.
“Don’t forget your beanie!” Enid chimes as they get ready to head out, and Wednesday just rolls her eyes. She just hopes she looks as presentable in this getup as Enid does.
“I just love how we match,” Enid grins as she pulls her phone out for a selfie. “Smile!”
Wednesday groans, but she finds herself not complaining anymore. If this is going to help Enid keep a positive attitude, then she thinks one selfie is fine, even if it’s going to end up all over social media soon.
Enid spends the whole time on the way to the ceremony talking to everyone. They all love her, which isn’t a surprise to Wednesday. They’re all amused at how excited she is to be skipping school and how she’s studying to get her driver’s license and how she’s so young and full of wonder.
Wednesday just follows along, nodding to everyone in greeting but not bothering to say much. Thankfully, Enid can tell she doesn’t want to talk, so she’ll step in and handle every conversation thrown their way.
It feels like ages when they’re finally out walking in front of the crowd, in front of the cameras broadcasting to the millions of people around the world watching them. Wednesday does take it in for a bit, knowing she should be proud of herself, but at the same time it’s a bit overwhelming. Especially when she looks over at Enid, whose face is lit up in awe, grin brighter than sun.
Wednesday doesn’t know much about Enid, but she does know that Enid deserves to be here and she hopes she knows that. Watching Enid take everything in helps Wednesday stay grounded, even if it’s for a moment, having something to focus on among all of the commotion.
“You okay?” Enid asks, shouting to her over the noise, having noticed she looks paler than usual.
Wednesday shakes her head. “I’m fine,” she says, even if it’s a bit of a lie, because her ears are ringing and the crowd of people makes her feel suffocated.
“It’s okay to be nervous,” Enid tells her, her grin having grown softer, “This is the biggest moment of our lives. Being nervous means you care.”
Wednesday doesn’t get how Enid can be so constantly positive, especially after what she heard today, trying to make sure Wednesday’s alright even though they barely know each other. Something about it makes her buzz, but it just adds to everything else she’s feeling.
That’s when Wednesday’s hand brushes up against Enid’s, and Enid moves to grab it. Wednesday quickly pulls away, shocked, and Enid’s eyes are wide and full of embarrassment.
“Sorry,” she stutters, “I thought that you wanted to-“
She’s cut off by a loud boom, sparks bright in the sky as they set off fireworks in celebration.
“Shit!” She exclaims, moving to cover her ears with a grimace on her face. It takes a second for her heartrate to come back down, to calm herself enough to put a goofy grin back on her face. “Fireworks always scare the hell out of me. But I still think they’re pretty.”
Her gaze lingers on Wednesday for a moment before going back to the sky, watching the fireworks erupt above them in awe.
“They are quite wondrous,” Wednesday agrees, eyes flicking to Enid for a moment. That’s when Enid looks back down at her with a smirk.
“You like them even if they’re so colorful?” she asks playfully, and Wednesday narrows her eyes back at her.
“I can appreciate the beauty in things even when they’re something I might not otherwise care for.”
Enid giggles at her answer, but it’s not meant to be mean at all. Wednesday just hates how the fireworks make it hard to hear her.
“That’s a very long way of saying yes,” Enid teases before going back to watch the fireworks, Wednesday’s eyes stuck on her the whole time.
- - -
Enid likes Wednesday Addams.
She still finds her scary, though. Wednesday is just so locked into her routine and being quiet and stonefaced that Enid wonders if she’s actually a robot.
But Enid knows underneath her harsh exterior is someone who cares. Not just about what she does, but about other people. Enid had been embarrassed to run into her after her argument with her mom, wondering how Wednesday would find a way to tease her about it, but then Wednesday had asked if she was okay. And it was those four words that had given Enid hope that they would get along and she wouldn’t feel so lonely out here.
Of course, Wednesday’s gone by the time Enid wakes up, having slept in when she should have maybe gone to get a workout in, but she’s still not used to the jet lag. She drags herself out of bed and knows she needs to get something to eat because her stomach is growling at her.
She wonders where Wednesday could be right now. Maybe hanging out with her family, who are probably proud of her. Maybe in the gym because she’s more disciplined than Enid will ever be. Maybe she’s just left the room to avoid Enid because she doesn’t want to deal with her.
Enid doesn’t like to think about any of those scenarios. She hates feeling jealous that Wednesday has a supportive family. She hates that she’s so lazy. She hates that she’s probably annoyed the only person here who understands what it’s like to be competing on the world’s biggest stage at such a young age.
But to Enid’s surprise, she finds Wednesday in the cafeteria after she’s filled up her own tray, sitting at a table by herself in the corner.
There are so many other open seats among the groups of athletes sitting together, but Enid doesn’t want to look like a loner. Enid knows if Wednesday doesn’t want her to sit with her, she’d be honest enough to say so.
“Uh, hi. Cool if I sit with you?” Enid asks shyly, breath stuck in her throat waiting for an answer. She forces a smile on her face, hoping it helps her look less desperate than she is.
Wednesday just nods at the seat across from her, and Enid’s never felt so relieved.
“So, I wanted a muffin, but all they had left was chocolate,” Enid complains right away, trying to start some kind of conversation so she doesn’t feel so awkward. She eyes the muffin on Wednesday’s tray curiously, noticing she’s also gotten waffles to eat too.
“How about we swap?” Enid suggests, “You said you liked chocolate.”
Wednesday just glares back at her like she always does. “I was only saying that to tease you.”
“Ugh. But I love muffins,” Enid pouts, and Wednesday figures it’s not that big of a deal.
“Fine. Go get the chocolate and I’ll eat it.”
“You sure?” Enid asks, and Wednesday sighs.
“Yes.”
Enid grins and runs off to go grab a chocolate muffin. And even if the muffin she got isn’t as good as she’d hoped, she’s still satisfied because Wednesday’s still sitting across from her, not annoyed in the slightest.
“We should go trade pins after this,” Enid says as she finishes up her food, “I want one from Greece. And the Philippines. And Canada even if we’re rivals.”
“You can go do that,” Wednesday says, standing up to throw away her trash. Enid follows.
“You don’t want to come?”
“No,” Wednesday says, shaking her head, “I have better things to do.”
“Ugh. You’re so boring,” Enid replies, annoyed that she’s right back at square one. She feels foolish that them sitting together to eat for a grand total of fifteen minutes means anything.
Wednesday heads off to who knows where without another word, so Enid ignores her disappointment and goes to talk to some athletes from Canada across the room.
It’s quite fun meeting everyone, and Enid loves how many of them are so encouraging and supportive of her. Enid basks in the advice and the compliments for as long as she can, because there’s a possibility that in a week, all of them are going to forget who she is and that she was ever here. She knows she has to win to make sure that doesn't happen.
She checks the time and heads back to her room, wondering if Wednesday’s there, and she finds her sitting at her desk writing away in a journal, working on her novel.
“Here. I got you some pins anyways,” Enid says, dropping them on her desk next to her before heading into the bathroom.
Wednesday glances over the pins of the different flags and designs and her eyes catch on one of the Olympic mascot, a white tiger, on skis. A tiny smile tugs at the edge of Wednesday’s lips, but it quickly disappears when Enid bursts back out of the bathroom pulling a coat on.
“Where are you headed off to now?” she asks, Enid stopping in her tracks.
“Women’s hockey. We’re playing Finland,” she explains, nodding towards the door, “Wanna come?”
“Fighting is prohibited in Olympic hockey,” Wednesday sighs, “So no.”
“Oh c’mon. Where’s your team spirit?” Enid whines, shoulders drooping, “Besides, I don’t wanna look like a loner anymore than I already am.”
Wednesday can see Enid try to play it off like she’s just trying to guilt trip her, because Wednesday had seen her trading pins with people after they were finished eating. She knows Enid doesn’t like being alone, she saw it when she came to sit with her at breakfast.
Wednesday figures it might help with the writer's block she’s currently fighting. If she gets bored, she’ll just leave.
“Fine,” she says, and Enid’s face lights up like the fireworks she loves to watch.
“Yay!” she exclaims, giddy with excitement as Wednesday begrudgingly gets up and gets her jacket. “And bring your beanie so we can match!”
- - -
Wednesday had thought that Enid would be too busy paying attention to the game to talk. But she spends the entire time telling Wednesday about her time playing hockey. That then leads to dozens of other stories, from the time her brothers locked her in a closet to the time she got lost at Disneyland as a kid to how she discovered she was allergic to chocolate.
(It was on her fourth birthday when her mom finally let her have a chocolate cake, and then her day was spent in the emergency room.)
All of it so ridiculous and random, yet Wednesday listens. She tells herself it’s because she’s got nothing better to do, that she can put up with it for a little while longer before Enid goes to compete, because Enid just needs someone to tell this all to or Wednesday feels she might explode.
The United States wins their game easily, and so they head back to their room, Enid still on a tangent.
“Do you think if I wore a medal to my driver’s license test, they’d let me pass automatically?” she asks, fiddling with the pins decorating the credential lanyard around her neck, imagining it as a gold medal.
Wednesday huffs. “They’d be putting everyone in California in danger if they let you onto the road that easily.”
Enid snickers. “It’s worth a shot.”
As they enter the village, Enid spots some more athletes roaming around, skipping up to a boy who doesn’t seem much older than them. Wednesday knows who he is, some skier who she’s heard about here and there, but she doesn’t have time to tell Enid not to bother with talking to him.
“Hi! Do you have any pins to trade?” Enid asks, but the boy just looks past her and straight at Wednesday.
“Wednesday Addams,” he groans, “Skiing’s biggest nepo baby.”
Enid’s face scrunches up in disgust immediately. “Hey. She’s here cause she earned it, okay? Meanwhile I don’t even know your name.”
“Earned is a nice way to say your parents get you into everything,” the boy teases, glare still harsh and locked on Wednesday.
Enid’s jaw is clenched tight, and Wednesday sees her hand form into a fist, and that’s when she grabs Enid’s arm tight.
“Enid,” she warns, knowing she can’t be fighting anyone here or she’ll get kicked out. It’s the last thing Wednesday wants to happen to her.
“Fuck off,” Enid spats, and Wednesday yanks her away as the boy stalks off.
Enid’s still catching her breath, Wednesday staring the boy down until he’s gone and hoping nobody saw that Enid was seconds away from swinging on him.
“Sorry,” Enid mumbles, face red with embarrassment, “I just thought that was rude of him to say.”
Wednesday keeps her face as blank as she can. “It’s not the first time I’ve heard it,” she says, trying hard to not think about his words. But as much as she tries not to be bothered by what other people say, it still frustrates her that her talent would ever be criticized.
Enid’s shaking her head as her breathing evens out.
“That’s terrible,” Enid says, and her voice has grown quieter now, such a contrast to the anger she had shown moments ago. She still looks upset though, something twinkling in those blue eyes of hers. “You’re like the most talented skier ever and whoever that is probably only got here because someone felt bad for him.”
She laughs, trying to lighten the mood, and Wednesday finds that it helps.
They walk in silence back to their room in step with, shoulders brushing up against each other but neither of them seem bothered by it at all.
Enid unlocks the door and goes straight to digging in her closet, needing a way to get her energy out without having to punch someone.
“Now, I’m gonna get a workout in,” she hums, “Wanna come?”
Wednesday swallows, not knowing why the question has her so stumped. She could use one too, but she thinks she’s spent enough time with Enid today.
“I’m alright,” she mumbles, and thankfully Enid understands that she wants some time alone again. Wednesday appreciates that she seems to be able to read her so well.
“You just don’t wanna face the fact that I’m in better shape than you,” Enid teases, and Wednesday can feel the heat ghosting her cheeks, trying to shake the idea of Enid at the gym as she sits down at her desk, the tiger pin staring back at her.
- - -
Like Wednesday, Enid stays up quite late.
Well, Wednesday stays up late when she has nothing important to do the next day. Tomorrow she’s going to do some practice runs in the morning so she’s in bed at a reasonable time, but she can see the light from Enid’s phone across the room and knows she’s still up doing who knows what.
Wednesday falls asleep before it becomes too much of an annoyance, waking up to Enid snoring peacefully. She’s quiet as she gets ready and goes down to eat breakfast, choosing to grab a chocolate muffin so the flavor Enid can eat doesn’t run out.
Enid doesn’t show up to the cafeteria, but she does find Wednesday on the shuttle to the training slopes, and of course she sits down next to Wednesday as the shuttle gets busier.
“Howdy,” she greets, her eyes still looking tired. Wednesday just nods, surprised Enid wants to sit by her instead of making friends, but it’s not that long of a ride. She’ll survive and she’d rather have Enid next to her instead of a stranger.
Except Enid manages to fall asleep on the quick ride, head slumping onto Wednesday’s shoulder, and Wednesday finds herself frozen in place.
She could shake her off, but Enid seems so comfortable, and they’re almost to the mountain, so she tries to stay as still as possible until the shuttle comes to a stop. That gets Enid to wake up and realize where they are, and Wednesday breathes a sigh of relief.
“Sorry,” she gasps, bolting up from Wednesday, whose glare is the darkest Enid’s seen.
“If you weren’t up on your phone all night, you wouldn’t be so exhausted,” she scolds, and Enid shrugs.
“I’m just catching up with everything back home. I feel left out because of the time difference.”
Wednesday squints at her. She doesn’t get how Enid is so nonchalant. “You’d better be in bed at a reasonable time tonight. You have our qualifying event tomorrow.”
“Yeah yeah,” Enid waves a hand at Wednesday, “If I’m not you can drag me into bed yourself. I mean, you can drag me into my bed yourself, but you’re not joining me-“
“Enid,” Wednesday grits her teeth as she sees people waiting for Enid to get off, “You’re holding everyone up.”
Her cheeks get redder than they already are as she stumbles over her words, and she grabs her things and mumbles an apology as she races off.
“I’ll see you later,” Enid calls over her shoulder, and Wednesday stills feels frozen as she watches her disappear.
- - -
Wednesday doesn’t get why she tolerates Enid. She doesn’t get how she listens to Enid’s endless rambling and lets Enid convince her to do things for her and wants Enid to feel good about herself. She’s been closed off to everyone else because she can’t afford any distractions, yet Enid’s already come in and knocked her off of her axis in a matter of days.
Wednesday cannot afford to be off balance. She needs to concentrate and remember what she came here to do to prove that she’s not here because her parents are famous. She’s here because she’s the best of the best, even for someone her age and she should be taken seriously and she can’t do that when she’s too busy thinking about having to get along with Enid.
The thing is, it’s easier to get along with Enid than to put in the effort to ignore her.
She’s thankful for the practice because it helps her keep her head on straight and get back into rhythm. She phases Enid out of her thoughts, trying not to wonder how her own practice is going, if she’s doing well or not. The two of them have already done a ton of more press and media in between everything else, the fans loving them and Wednesday annoyed she’s being more perceived than she’s ever wanted.
Being in the spotlight is more exhausting than racing down a mountain at twenty-five miles per hour. Wednesday knows it has to come with the sport, with being so good at what she does, for being the daughter of two decorated Olympians. She’s eager to get some rest by the time she’s finally back in the evening after a day of interviews and filming content with her family.
Wednesday figures Enid would be fast asleep by now, but as she steps into their room, she can see a silhouette out on the balcony.
The chilly winter air trickles into their room as Wednesday sets her things down and peeks her head out of the balcony door that’s cracked open. Enid’s leaning over the railing, staring out at the sky.
“I thought I told you to go to bed at a reasonable time” Wednesday scolds, she can see Enid’s shoulders droop before she turns to her for a moment.
“I tried,” Enid shakes her head, “Can’t sleep.”
“Well if you’re going to stand out here, at least close the door. You’re letting all of the warm air out.” Wednesday shuts it behind her and slowly moves to join Enid by the railing, but is careful not to get too close.
“I thought you liked it cold?” Enid mumbles, her breath spilling out in front of her in a cloud of vapor.
“I do,” Wednesday replies, “But you said you preferred it warm.”
Enid nods, and Wednesday notices how quiet she is, how she’s so tense, her hands clasped together tight. It’s always strange to not see Enid smiling, to hear her so quiet, and Wednesday finds herself not liking the sight.
“Are the nerves getting to you?” she asks, finding her own voice growing softer.
“Of course,” Enid sighs, “Some of us are capable of feelings, you know.”
Wednesday’s relieved to be teased, even if it’s brief. It means she gets to see Enid crack the tiniest smile, which disappears too quickly for her to appreciate.
She understands Enid. She gets the pressure and the anxiety even if she’s learned how to ignore it all. She knows how many people are watching her, expecting her to perform well and will be criticizing her if she doesn’t live up to their sky-high expectations.
Wednesday watches Enid pick at the paint peeling off of the railing, the pity growing in her and picking up speed like an avalanche. She takes a breath.
“No matter what happens, you have to remember that making it here is an achievement in itself,” she explains, making sure to remember it herself as well.
Enid huffs. “I mean, yeah. But all those years of training and competing just to come home with nothing? I’m gonna get an earful.”
“You don’t have to listen to what everyone says about you.” Wednesday knows Enid’s much more in tune with the fans and social media and cares about what people say about her. “In the end, it’s all just noise.”
Enid’s quiet for a moment, Wednesday watching how the breeze ruffles her colorful hair. Finally, after a deep breath, she speaks again.
“I’m talking about my mom. She constantly complains about how all of the money she spent on my gear and taking me to competitions better be worth it.” The look in her eyes is something between a mix of anger and sadness. “She told me that I’d better be at the top of that podium or I should be ashamed.”
Her gaze drops down off of the balcony, down into the darkness, and Wednesday remembers hearing what Enid’s mother had said to her that day in town.
“I’m sorry to hear she said that,” Wednesday says, already starting to feel the anger rising inside of her just like it did the other day.
Enid just sighs. “I’m used to it.”
Hearing her say it so nonchalantly makes Wednesday’s jaw clench, hands balled into fists.
“You shouldn’t be,” she tells Enid sternly, and she can see Enid shift next to her out of the corner of her eye, “Nobody should be treated like that.”
“I know,” Enid mutters, “I just don’t want her to think she’s responsible if I win, because I did all of this myself.”
Those words resonate with Wednesday, having been always compared to her parents day in and day out no matter how much she’s proven herself. She gets what it feels like to be told that she hasn’t earned any of this.
She takes a breath so deep she can feel the cold in her lungs, and then she turns to Enid, who’s already watching her.
“I understand the pressure. The impostor syndrome. The feeling that you’re only here because of someone else. But the only way to prove everyone wrong is to perform. We’re here because we’ve earned it and we know how to compete despite the odds. If you weren’t meant to be here, you would have been weeded out long ago.”
Enid just stares at Wednesday for a moment, slowly nodding as she lets her words sink into her. It’s enough time for Wednesday to notice how she’s glowing in the moonlight, distracted until Enid’s finally speaking up.
“And I hope you know I think you got here with your own talent too,” she says, a weak smile on her lips, “Like, you’re just that good and it’s insane how you show up people who have been doing this for years. I mean it when I say I look up to you because you don’t let anything phase you. I wanna be like that someday.”
Her smile shines like the stars in the sky above them, and it’s that and those words that make Wednesday’s mind go blank. There’s no way Enid could possibly find her inspiring. She thinks it’s quite silly.
Wednesday finally collects herself and realizes how tired she is and knows they should both be getting to bed before they freeze out here.
“It starts by developing healthy habits,” she says, hoping Enid doesn’t notice her voice is a bit shaky. She blames it on the cold and not the fact that her heart rate is starting to get higher. “Like going to bed at a reasonable hour.”
Enid shakes her head. “No, no, I wanna stargaze some more. It’s too bright in the city to see all of this.” She waves her hand towards the sky, pointing up. “Look, that’s Lupus, over there, the wolf. My fave.”
She grins proudly, Wednesday raising an eyebrow back at her. “I didn’t know you studied the constellations.”
“Not study, exactly,” Enid giggles, “But I like to crawl out onto my roof at night when I can’t sleep and look at stars. The ones I can see, at least. It’s fun wondering what’s out there.”
She gazes back out to the sky, and Wednesday watches as she points up again with a smile. She finds herself relieved to see Enid smiling again, relaxed every time she hears her laugh because it means she doesn’t feel as anxious.
“There’s the big dipper, a classic obviously,” she explains, and then she’s looking at another spot in the sky, “And that’s Cygnus the swan.”
“Do you know the myth associated with Cygnus?” Wednesday asks.
“No,” Enid replies, but she’s got a curious look on her face. “Are you gonna enlighten me?”
Enid’s looking at her so eagerly it’s made Wednesday forget how to speak. Suddenly she’s more nervous than she’s ever been for any race, taking a breath and doing her best to remember the story even though she knows it so well.
“Phaethon was the son of the sun god, Helios,” she explains, Enid watching her curiously, “He had asked to ride his father’s chariot, but his father was insistent he didn’t. Eventually, Helios gave in, but Phaethon wasn’t able to keep control of the chariot and it was struck down by Zeus, sending him crashing down to Earth. Phaethon fell to his death into the river Eridanus, and his lover, Cygnus, was turned into a swan by the gods to help with his mourning. That is the Cygnus you see in the constellation.”
Both of them glance up at the sky, staring at Cygnus twinkling millions of lightyears away. Wednesday wonders what Enid could be thinking about, her smile faded but it’s not the same kind of disappointment she had earlier.
“That’s kinda sad, actually,” Enid hums, “But fitting, I guess, because of Greece and the Olympics and all that.”
“That’s just one of the myths,” Wednesday tells her, “If it makes you feel better, you can look at the swan as a symbol of grace and rebirth.”
Now, she’s smiling again. “I like the sound of that.”
She keeps her eyes on Wednesday, thinking about how her freckles remind her of those very constellations she’s always loved to get lost in. She takes a breath, the cold finally settling onto her skin, and realizes she should probably get some rest.
“That was like, the perfect bedtime story,” she tells Wednesday, hoping it’s dark enough that she can’t see her blushing. “I’m gonna get some sleep. Goodnight.”
She gives her a nod before disappearing into their room, leaving Wednesday to take one last glance up at the stars before figuring she should do the same.
- - -
Enid likes to think Wednesday’s pep talk helped. She’s still a bit nervous, but more excited than she was yesterday. She’s getting so many well wishes from fans and friends back home and she knows that they’ll support her no matter what happens. Still, she needs to qualify, because it would be embarrassing not to. She doesn’t want to hear what words her mom will have to say, how she’s going to spoil this whole experience and hear about it for the next four years.
Wednesday’s gone when she wakes up, and she doesn’t see her in the cafeteria either as she sits alone in the corner, smiling at everyone who walks by hoping maybe someone will join her. But as she finishes up her muffin, she realizes everyone else is too busy and so she heads back to her room to get ready, ignoring the buzzing in her head and sweat on her palms.
She tries to distract herself on the shuttle ride over, playing games on her phone and listening to all over her favorite songs and silencing the notifications from her mom that keep popping up. She thinks about her talk with Wednesday the night before and that no matter what happens today, she knows she should still be proud of herself. And she hopes Wednesday will be proud of her.
Enid focuses on her breathing and clenching and unclenching her fists as she waits to head up to the elevator, trying not to pay attention to how the people going before her are doing. She just needs to focus on herself, to not worry about what anyone else is doing. She lets the cool air prick at her skin before she sets off so she knows that everything she’s feeling right now is real.
By the time she’s up for her first run, she can feel the nerves starting to creep back in.
You can do this Enid, she tells herself over and over, but her mom’s voice is fighting with her own, and as she comes down after her first trick, she wipes out.
Enid hates herself. She bites at her lip as she rides down the rest of the pipe and fakes a smile as she goes to wait her turn again. She knows her mom is somewhere in that crowd, disappointed and ashamed, and Enid holds her breath to stop herself from crying.
She still has two more runs, and she’s not the only one who’s messed up. She knows she still has a chance.
Enid grits her teeth on the next ride up, wondering if maybe Wednesday is in that crowd too. The mere thought motivates Enid to focus, to not want to mess up in front of her and make her realize that Enid isn’t worthy of being here like she is.
Enid gives her arms a shake and takes off down the pipe for her second run, and this time, she manages to stay upright the whole time. But her landings aren’t neat and she wobbles here and there while she does move ahead several spots, she’s still sitting in thirteenth. One spot out of qualifying.
Enid thinks if she’s not going to qualify, she’d rather finish much lower than to just miss out like she currently is. So that just spurs her to give it her all on this last run.
As she takes one last glance at the score before heading to wait, she glances into the crowd. She expects to see her mom out there, staring her down with a glare of disappointment, but she finds someone much better instead.
“Wednesday!” she gasps, seeing her roommate trying her best to hide, “I didn’t think you’d be here!”
“I was passing through and decided to watch,” Wednesday says, and Enid doesn’t notice that it’s a lie. She just didn’t think Enid would notice her among the crowd.
“Well, sorry it hasn’t been anything impressive,” Enid frowns, “I gotta get out of my head.”
Wednesday feels a knot in her chest seeing Enid look so down, already defeated and unsure of herself. She knows Enid has it in her to perform, she just needs her to believe it herself. “You can do this, Enid,” she tells her sternly, and then her eyes dart to Enid’s loose helmet.
“And fix your chin strap.”
Wednesday reaches out to do it herself before Enid can lift a finger, making sure the strap is snug around Enid’s chin. Enid can feel the heat on her cheeks, warm enough to melt the snow around them.
“Thanks,” she mutters, nodding quickly as she heads back up to the elevator with a newfound confidence.
- - -
Sinclair currently sits in thirteenth, right outside of the qualification window. She wiped out on her first run, and then didn’t score as high as she’d liked in the second. Let’s see if the American can pull through and make it to the next round.
It literally is go big or go home for the sixteen year old right now. It’s a lot of pressure for someone so young, but she’s proven her talent and I know she can pull it off.
Here she goes. Starting off with a McTwist, she sticks the landing.
Wow, look at the air on that, whew. She is getting up there!
She plays it safe with a big air there, but still looks like a good run right now.
Now she hits that alley oop 720 flawlessly. Still getting so high and nailing the landings, this is a stellar run so far as she goes into one more trick.
And then she finishes it off with a frontside 1080! My goodness what a run from Enid Sinclair! That for sure has to get her a spot!
And there it is! Enid Sinclair moves up to third and will be competing for gold tomorrow!
- - -
Enid knows her family is here somewhere, but she doesn’t want to see them just yet. She doesn’t want to lose this good mood she’s in, wanting to savor it for as long as she can.
That’s when she spots Wednesday still lingering around, glaring daggers at anyone who tries to get near her until she sees Enid. She eases up, especially when she sees how bright Enid’s smile is.
“Your pep talk worked,” she teases, and Wednesday just rolls her eyes.
“It was nothing.”
Enid snickers. “So are you coming tomorrow?” she asks, and Wednesday glances over her shoulder at the reporters looking eagerly in their direction.
“They want my reaction,” she explains, and even if it’s true, she’d go to watch Enid anyway. “So yes.”
“Yay!” Enid cheers, “I mean, you better come. You’re my good luck charm.” She gives Wednesday a playful wink as she pokes her in the arm.
“I’m not,” Wednesday quickly corrects her so she can forget about the heat growing on her face, “You did that all on your own.”
“Right. Yeah,” Enid nods, feeling the pride blooming in her chest, which only grows when she notices Wednesday looking at her with awe.
“Um, I gotta go talk to the media,” Enid blurts, needing an excuse to leave before she gets emotional, “See you later.”
And she bounds off, her heart still pounding as loud as ever.
- - -
It feels like deja vu.
Enid’s taking deep breaths. She’s got her hands bunched into fists. It’s colder today, so the winter chill bites a bit harder. But Enid likes it. It helps her stay grounded.
Her first two runs were nothing special. She didn’t wipe out, but she wasn’t perfect either, and now she’s preparing for the biggest moment of her life.
Wednesday’s saying something in her ear, but she can’t hear it. Her head is filled with static, just nodding mindlessly, knowing there are dozens of cameras on them right now watching their every move.
Enid needs to find her way onto the podium. She needs to do it for her younger self who worked so hard to get here. She needs to prove her mom wrong. And she wants to be the youngest woman to win snowboarding gold so when Wednesday does the same thing, they can recreate all of their photos with their medals instead.
“Enid?” Wednesday calls, and Enid snaps out of her daydreaming to see that she needs to head back up.
“Yeah?”
“Your chin strap.” Wednesday nods at it again around Enid’s face. She quickly goes to fix it herself before Wednesday can and makes her even more nervous than she already is.
“Right. Thanks.”
Wednesday gives her a stern nod. “Good luck.”
Enid nods right back, takes a deep breath, and tells herself everything is going to be fine.
- - -
Enid Sinclair. Just sixteen years old. Like yesterday, she sits in fourth, just outside of where she wants to be. But also like yesterday, she might just come through and storm right back onto the podium.
She has a chance to make history here tonight. She could be the youngest woman to win a gold medal for Olympic snowboarding.
It would be quite the feat. Her first two runs weren’t anything special, but she certainly has the ability to do something big here.
Yoko Tanaka, only a few years older than her, sits in first. After a couple of injuries earlier, Sinclair is now lined up to be the last to go. We could witness a great come from behind win here.
And there goes Sinclair down the slope. She doesn’t hesitate to start off strong, what a nice frontside 1080 there!
She moves into a switch backside 720, wow she sticks the landing, still going fast and hitting a beautiful big air right there.
She follows it up with a frontside 1260, and she sure looks in her element right now.
Now she tries the backside 1440, one that eluded her in qualifying but now she nails it!
And then she finishes off with a McTwist, one of her signature moves and my goodness what a run. Flawless, tons of style, I bet that puts her in first right there, I’d be surprised if it doesn’t at least boost her into a medal.
Truly incredible stuff right there from the youngster. Going all out on your last run and it might just get her the gold.
Sinclair, a San Francisco native, grew up going to Mammoth and Lake Tahoe and would snowboard with her older brothers. I’m sure they’re all proud of her right now.
We’re just waiting on the score now. Sinclair watches on eagerly. And behind her, that looks like Wednesday Addams, daughter of greats Morticia and Gomez Addams, of the legendary skier family, who has her own giant slalom event in a few days. They’re the two youngest athletes for Team USA this year, so it’s nice to see they’ve found each other.
Would you look at, the final score! Enid Sinclair has done it! She’s become the youngest woman to win a gold in Olympic snowboarding at just sixteen!
- - -
The crowd erupts in cheers and Enid’s jaw drops and the first person she sees after her score flashes on screen is Wednesday, so that’s who she takes all of her excitement out on. She’s shaking her by the shoulders and screaming but Wednesday doesn't even bother to brush her away because she’s just as excited, even if she only shows it by a tiny smirk.
“I’m gonna bite my medal!” Enid shouts at her, and that’s when Wednesday pulls away because she realizes every camera is on them.
“That’s cliché,” she retorts, but Enid’s grinning back at her, laughing hard with the applause behind her.
“Nuh uh. It’s cool.”
Wednesday rolls her eyes, but when she sees Enid standing on the podium with a gold medal between her teeth, she’s never felt prouder.
- - -
Wednesday hangs for Enid to finish talking to the media even after their interviews together because it feels wrong to ditch her. That and she owes her a goodbye at the least now that Enid’s done competing.
“So I presume you’ll be leaving tomorrow?” Wednesday asks as they walk back to the village, and part of herself finds her hoping Enid might not be leaving so soon.
“You really want that room to yourself, huh?” Enid teases, flashing a smile that matches the medal around her neck. “But no. Everyone wants to see me return the favor. I mean, I would have watched you anyways. It’s only fair.”
Wednesday finds herself flattered. “I appreciate that.”
It’s nice to know Enid’s doing it because she wants to, not just because of the content they’ll want to capture of the two of them. It’s just another reason to win, so Enid can be proud of her too. That and they can match like she’s been talking about nonstop.
“And the best part is they’re not gonna kick me out of the village just yet,” Enid exclaims as they head into their building, “So you get me for a few more nights.”
“How unfortunate,” Wednesday rolls her eyes, but she can see Enid smirking back at her, and she knows she can’t be annoyed at all.
- - -
There’s still one more day until Wednesday’s competition, and unfortunately for her, it has to be Valentine’s Day.
Wednesday could care less about all of it. It’s just another day to her. But of course the cafeteria is decorated and they’re serving special treats and her Enid are being interviewed together about something that she can only assume will be related to the holiday.
She’s found the same spot in the corner for breakfast this morning, just waiting on Enid to finish grabbing her food. Wednesday doesn’t know why she’s taking so long when she knows Enid’s just going to grab the same waffles and muffin that she always does.
Enid plops down at the seat across from her and then slides over a napkin topped with a pile of heart shaped cookies.
“What is this?” Wednesday asks, brow furrowed, but Enid’s just smiling back at her.
“Valentine’s Day treat!” she exclaims, “You can take one.”
Wednesday just glares back at her, but Enid isn’t phased at all. She just swaps their muffins, like they’ve been doing whenever Enid’s shown up too late to grab one she can eat.
“Wanna be my valentine?” Enid asks with a wiggle of her eyebrows, and Wednesday finds herself with her words stuck in her throat, especially with Enid’s grin brighter than the sun glaring back at her.
“I’m kidding,” Enid quickly reassures her, “I’m like, kind of taken anyways.”
She leans back into her chair with a smirk, and Wednesday’s confused.
“Kind of taken?”
Enid hums. “There’s this guy I train with who is super cute and I’m hoping that he’ll ask me out now that I have a gold medal. The tension is like, totes there.”
Wednesday doesn’t get any of it. It sounds foolish. “Then why don’t you just ask him out if you’re so infatuated with him?”
“Because I’m not sure if he likes me like that,” Enid explains, hoping Wednesday doesn’t think it’s too silly. “He’s kind of an airhead, but whatever. I don’t have to get rejected first and embarrass myself.”
Wednesday huffs. “You’re already embarrassing, so it wouldn’t make a difference.”
“Nobody is going to ask you out with that attitude,” Enid retorts, and Wednesday narrows her eyes at her.
“And I don’t want anyone to.”
“Pfft,” Enid crosses her arms, “I’m surprised more people aren’t trying to ask you out.”
Her eyes flick away for a moment, then back up to Wednesday when she sees her staring at her, confused.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Well, you’re super talented. Famous family,” Enid tells her, and you’re kinda cute, she thinks to herself, “And a lot nicer than you want anyone to know.”
Wednesday doesn’t need the praise. She has more important things to think about than being in a relationship. “It would be a waste of time when I’m clearly not interested.”
“Right, right,” Enid nods, looking away ashamed, “Competing comes first. I get it.”
She doesn’t look back up to Wednesday, instead picking at the muffin on her tray. Her eyes flick to the cookies, sitting untouched in between them. She clears her throat.
“Now, if you’re not going to eat these, then I gladly will,” she grins, hoping it doesn’t look too forced, wondering if the blush on Wednesday’s cheeks is real or she’s just seeing things.
- - -
Enid doesn’t mind the spotlight. In fact, she loves it. She loves answering questions and telling stories about her life and doing all of the fun games they make her do. It also helps that it’s a perfect excuse to avoid her family, she just has to make sure she doesn’t mess up her words and say something that could get her scolded later.
But Enid can tell Wednesday hates all of it. She knows she’s getting antsy, having to wait around all week for her event and talk about herself more than she wants to. It’s subtle, but she can see Wednesday’s jaw clench every time she’s asked a question that she finds unimpressive or her parents are brought up, and so that’s when Enid jumps in and draws the attention away from her. It’s the least she can do, especially after Wednesday’s been there supporting her over the last few days.
Enid’s glad they’re getting along. She had been afraid she would be miserable being forced to be around her so much, just another thing to worry about, but it turns out Wednesday’s one of the best things to come out of her time here. That and her gold medal of course.
Enid just hopes that Wednesday can win too. She knows she can, she’s that good, and then they can celebrate and take the world by storm together. But for now, all they can do is count down the time until tomorrow.
They have one last interview before they’re free for the day, and Enid can see the irritation bright on Wednesday’s face.
“Congratulations on your medal Enid,” the reporter starts off, and Enid gives him a smile back.
“Thank you.”
“Now today is Valentine’s Day,” he explains, and Enid can feel Wednesday huff next to her. “Do either of you have a special someone you’re thinking of today?”
Enid gulps. She’s not going to expose her crush to the world right now. “Uh, maybe,” she mumbles, and that mystery seems to be interesting enough of an answer.
The reporter turns to Wednesday.
“How about you Wednesday?” he asks, and she’s glaring so hard at him he could melt.
“No,” she says, and Enid can feel how tense she is next to her. The reporter moves on to his next question.
“So have either of you had your first kiss yet?” he asks, and Enid tilts her head, thinking it’s a bit of an odd question. But still, she answers.
“Uh, yeah. This boy in my class in seventh grade,” she smiles nervously, watching the reporter look over at Wednesday.
“How about you Wednesday?” he asks, and Enid can already tell she’s annoyed. Enid expects Wednesday to give some witty response, but when she glances over at her, her fists are clenched and her breathing is shallow and Enid can tell she’s uncharacteristically nervous.
“It’s fine if you don’t have one yet,” the reporter says, “How about someone you’d like to be your first kiss? After all, your parents met at the Olympics, and we know how much they love each other.”
Wednesday’s still quiet, and Enid feels herself growing concerned.
“Um. I don’t think she wants to answer that,” Enid sees, feeling Wednesday tense up next to her.
“C’mon,” the reporter urges, “It’s Valentine’s Day.”
“So? She doesn’t owe you an answer about that kind of stuff,” Enid retorts, growing irritated at the reporter’s persistence. He doesn’t seem to care.
“There are a lot of fans who would want to know-“
“No. We’re done,” Enid cuts him off, shaking her head in disappointment. She nods at Wednesday as she pulls her mic off. “C’mon.”
She slams the door behind them, glancing over at Wednesday who still looks uncomfortable. Enid thinks it’s bizarre to see Wednesday look uneasy when she’s usually so stoic. She doesn’t like it at all.
“What a weirdo,” Enid says in disgust, “Why are you asking kids that kind of stuff anyways?”
Wednesday’s quiet next to her. “It’s quite atrocious journalism.”
“Yeah,” Enid agrees, seeing that Wednesday’s jaw is still clenched tight. The sight makes her chest feel heavy. She doesn’t like the idea that Wednesday might be feeling embarrassed even if she’d never admit it."But seriously though, don’t feel bad about any of that, okay? It doesn’t even matter.”
She nudges Wednesday with her elbow, giving her a comforting smile that she hopes she knows she can trust.
Wednesday glances at Enid quickly, but it’s enough for Enid to know she’s thanking her for getting them out of there. It’s also enough for Enid to get another glance of her freckles, and that’s enough to make her dizzy.
Enid sticks her hands in her jacket pocket to steady herself, the two of them walking in silence until they’re passing by the cafeteria again.
“I’m gonna see if they have any more of those cookies,” Enid asks, hoping it doesn’t annoy Wednesday more. “Wanna come?”
And to Enid’s delight, she says yes.
- - -
Enid doesn’t take off her medal. She wears it to Wednesday’s event the next day, Wednesday telling her it’s fine and that it won’t take any attention off of her when she spends far too long in front of the mirror trying to decide if she wants to wear it or not.
Wednesday leaves before her, and Enid makes her way through the crowd getting stopped every few seconds for photos and congratulations and she’s absolutely buzzing. She had told her family she’d be watching Wednesday, but they weren’t interested, going to play tourist instead until she’d be done.
Enid doesn’t mind though. She’s glad they’re not here to ruin her mood. Instead, Enid meets Wednesday’s family, who usher her over and tell her to watch with them.
“Congratulations Enid,” Morticia says, and Enid’s starstruck as she mumbles a thanks. She’s much taller in person, and even more stunning too.
“Wednesday’s told us a lot about you,” Gomez adds, “We’re glad she’s made a friend here.”
Enid laughs nervously. She wonders what Wednesday’s said about her, but it must have been good if they’re happy to see her and think that they’re friends. It’s something Enid can’t complain about.
They talk to her about her plans for after the games and give her advice on brand deals and how to display her medal. They’re much nicer than her own family, and Enid finds herself smiling from ear to ear during the whole conversation. Especially when Morticia starts telling Enid about how the two of them fell in love competing together.
“We skipped the closing ceremony to watch the fireworks together out on the mountain,” Morticia explains, “We weren’t supposed to be out at that time. But Gomez has such a way with words that he was able to sneak us up there. That’s when I knew he was the one.”
He chuckles, looking proudly at Morticia who is absolutely smitten, and Enid can’t help but hope she finds someone who loves her that much someday.
“Enough reminiscing,” Wednesday’s little brother Pugsley whines, “Wednesday’s about to go.”
The crowd cheers at the announcement of Wednesday’s name, and Enid turns her head to the giant mountain looming down on them, clutching her own medal tight.
- - -
Wednesday Addams set for her first run. She’s been nothing but phenomenal leading up to these games. Just like her parents.
Right. It seems she’s inherited their knack for speed. And at just sixteen too, it’s quite impressive. They must be so proud to see her following in their footsteps.
Addams steps up, and she’s off. My goodness is she moving. She’s got a good rhythm going now.
She moves with such precision. So swift. So effortless. So clean.
She’s making great time right now. She’s currently in the lead, and if she keeps this pace up she’ll jump to first!
Addams is just breezing down this mountain. It’s wild to think she’s only a teenager with how polished she looks.
Addams in the green as she crosses the line and what an incredible run! That’s going to catapult her first, and we’ll see if that holds, but my oh my was that impressive!
- - -
The entire crowd is applauding Wednesday as she comes to a stop in front of them, unphased by all of the fanfare. She doesn’t seem to care about how well she just did, she’s just focused on getting ready for her next run, which won’t be for a while.
She rides past her family, holding up when she sees Enid among them. She’s beaming like a supernova, clapping up a storm, that medal still bouncing around her neck. She shouts some words of congratulations that get lost among the noise, so Wednesday moves closer.
“I can’t believe there’s so many of you,” Enid exclaims, eyes bright and wondrous, “I couldn’t sit around for this long. I’d get way too anxious.”
Wednesday shrugs. “I’m used to it.”
Enid nods, giggling and filled to the brim with excitement. But before Wednesday heads off to wait, Enid stops her.
“Hey. Your chinstrap is loose,” she points at Wednesday’s helmet.
“What?”
“Just kidding,” Enid laughs, “You got this.”
She gives Wednesday a playful punch in the arm, along with one of those sunny smiles of hers, and it’s enough to make Wednesday feel invincible.
- - -
Addams is up last after a stellar first run that nobody else managed to beat. It all comes down to this, can she pull it off and become the youngest to win gold in slalom?
Someone with the last name Addams certainly can. The pressure doesn’t phase her at all. She looks like a seasoned veteran up there.
She’s off like lightning! Already making good time, she might even be going faster than her first run!
Look at those turns. Wow. She moves so gracefully.
Spectacular showing by Addams right now. She’s flawless out there. I know her parents are watching proudly.
They’re definitely going to add to their medal collection after today. Addams is making incredible time right now!
Here she comes, beating her earlier time by fractions of a second!
And with that, Addams passes Mikaela Shiffrin to become the youngest gold medalist in the slalom. What an achievement!
- - -
“Congrats Wednesday!” is the first thing Wednesday hears after she makes her way down from the podium. Enid’s more excited than her, eyes wide and grin taking up her whole face the moment they see each other again. She notices her family hanging back, letting the two of them celebrate first, which feels a bit odd, but she doesn’t mind it.
“Thank you,” she tells Enid, ignoring everyone watching them eagerly, just focusing on Enid instead.
“And look at us!” she exclaims, holding up her own medal, “We match.”
Wednesday nods, taking a breath, still getting used to the fact that she’s an Olympic gold medalist at such a young age. It’s quite an accomplishment, one that she’ll be remembered for, and she knows she has every right to be proud of herself.
Enid nudges her with her elbow excitedly. “Everyone is gonna eat us up,” she cheers, and then her eyes go wide. “Wait. What if I call us the golden girls?”
Wednesday rolls her eyes. “Please don’t do that.”
“Oh I won’t,” Enid giggles, “But I know people probably already are.”
Wednesday groans, but Enid’s still laughing at her, waving at a photographer hovering nearby the two of them. More media makes their way over as Wednesday’s family joins them, and Enid stays glued to Wednesday’s side the whole time.
- - -
The nickname is definitely stuck. Everyone’s referring to them by it, through all of the interviews and news broadcasts and Enid can’t help but laugh while Wednesday just tags along, beyond annoyed.
Enid handles every question easily, being able to read when Wednesday would rather have her answer instead, keeping up and giving people exactly what they want to hear. Still, even when they’re finished, Enid finds the energy to keep talking. Wednesday doesn’t get how she does it.
“It’s so funny that me shaking the salt out of you after my win went viral,” Enid snickers to herself as she packs up her things, trying to stick all of the free gear she’s gotten into her bags.
Wednesday just watches, finding her struggle amusing. “I’m not surprised.”
“Sorry about that by the way,” Enid takes a moment to catch her breath, “I was just so excited.”
Wednesday shakes her head. “No need to apologize. It’s always rewarding to see someone celebrate something they’ve been working their whole life to accomplish.”
It’s true, she wouldn’t mind Enid tossing her around like a hurricane if it meant she was happy. She just wishes there weren’t so many cameras watching.
“I promise I won’t do it next time,” Enid reassures her when she sees Wednesday thinking, assuming she’s not being truthful. She knows the two of them are on good terms, but she’d never want to overstep.
“Next time?”
“I’m going back to back, duh,” Enid chimes, “We’re going back to back.”
The grin on her face is confident, devious, and more than enough to spur Wednesday to ignore being cautious and believe that they for sure will be back here winning another medal together.
Enid notices the smirk ghosting Wednesday’s lips, one that tells her that she agrees and wants it too.
“It’s just a bummer we can’t stick around,” Enid groans, finally getting one of her suitcases shut. “Although I won’t miss the beds.”
She glances over at the rickety bed that she managed to not break over the past week, letting out a breathy laugh.
“Will you be heading back to San Francisco?” Wednesday asks, wondering if maybe Enid could join her family at the rest of the events they planned to watch. But Enid just frowns.
“Yeah. I’ve missed too much school and my mom doesn’t like that,” she says, and Wednesday’s already recoiling at the mention of Enid’s mom. “How about you? Back to New Jersey?”
“My family will be spending some time watching the other events before we return home,” she explains, and she can see Enid force a smile onto her face.
“Oh. That’ll be fun.”
Wednesday wants to ask her to stay anyways, because there’s still the women’s hockey final to watch and the closing ceremony that she’d go to if Enid asked. Anything to help delay her having to go back to a life she doesn’t seem happy about.
“Well, we should keep in touch,” Enid sighs, pulling out her phone, “What’s your number?”
“I don’t have a cell phone.”
“Seriously?”
Wednesday shakes her head. “I’ve never had a need for one.”
“How are you supposed to handle all the brand deals you’re about to get?” Enid scoffs, but Wednesday doesn’t seem to care.
“My parents will take care of that.”
Enid giggles, amused but not surprised, finally having gotten all of her things together. She looks over everything, over her cleaned up side of the room, the medal tucked away safely in her backpack.
She didn’t know what to expect for her first Olympics, but she’s just glad that everything’s gone well. She’s even more glad to have met Wednesday, who’s been the most supportive of her through it all, and she thinks that without Wednesday, she might not have enjoyed everything as much as she has. She finds herself searching for any excuse to stay.
“Well, then see you in four years I guess,” Enid mutters, making her way towards the door as Wednesday looks on. “But hopefully it’s sooner than that.”
And as she shuts the door behind her, Wednesday finds herself hoping too.