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Enid’s arms and legs were aching. She couldn’t tell if there were growing pains from her recent growth spurt or the aftermath of her wolf out last night. She had climbed out of the lupin cages and dragged herself upstairs and laid in bed, ignoring the light filtering through her colorful side of the window, ignoring the soft taps of Thing scurrying across the floor, and desperately trying to ignore Wednesday.
Which was currently impossible with the short girl physically hovering over her.
“What is wrong?” Wednesday scowled. “You look terrible.”
“Well, thanks. It’s just — “ Enid moved slightly and her shoulder popped horrendously. She winced. Definitely from wolfing out. It just hadn’t ever hurt this bad afterward. “God, I’m so sore.”
Wednesday blinked. To anyone else, her face would appear emotionless, but Enid knew her better. The twitch of her eyebrow. The way her eyes flickered briefly. Her lower lip slightly out. It was the closest Wednesday could get to a guilty expression.
“Wends,” Enid frowned. “What’s going on?”
“I…” Another eyebrow twitch. “...may have freed you from the lupin cages,” Wednesday admitted in one breath. She drew her hand up. “But only because it is entirely unfair that a magnificent monster, such as yourself, be confined there. It’s cruel. Those cages are horrible.”
“Wednesday, what the Hell?” she yelped, jumping up.
“We only went out a few miles before I convinced your wolf to turn around, and then when the coast was clear, I helped you back into the cage,” Wednesday assured her with raised hands in almost false surrender. “I apologize, but you were the one who said I was welcome any time to be with you as you transition.”
“Sure! But not let me out!” Her voice was about to reach decibels werewolves would only be able to hear.
Wednesday winced. “Well, alright. Yes, that was my fault, but it was too tempting. You were… breathtaking.”
Enid didn’t even know how to respond to that. Even Wednesday looked surprised at herself like it slipped out. Since when did Wednesday not have perfect control over herself?
“You can’t just free me when I’m wolfed out,” Enid sighed, exasperated. How was this not clear? “I could have really hurt someone. I could have hurt you.”
“Exactly,” Wednesday said, grinning devilishly. It was a rare sight. Toothy and dimples and something squirmed in Enid’s chest. Something familiar and sharp. Something warm and growing.
Enid closed her eyes and groaned. “You’re getting me breakfast.” A demand. Not a question. And not something normally she could get away with, but Wednesday bowed her head and had the decency not to argue.
“Do you want your disgusting coffee too?” she asked.
Enid groaned loudly. “God, Wednesday. Yes!” She writhed dramatically around on the bed. Nothing felt comfortable before she shoved her head in her pillow in frustration. “And extra bacon!” she shouted, muffled.
She could hear the clicking of heels on the floor heading away, and she swore she could hear Wednesday grumble under her breath, “...Course I know about the extra bacon,” before the door closed behind her.
—
They were only a week into the new school year, and it was clear that they had grown more comfortable with each other. Years of getting threatened, stalked, and hunted had brought them closer. Since Crackstone, Wednesday was more comfortable with touch in light doses, but over the years, it became more hugs, grabs, touches, hand holding, brief grazes. It became less of a big thing and often went unspoken. It became a constant.
Enid was sometimes afraid if she did say something, if she did acknowledge how Wednesday didn’t rip her hand away when they brushed against hers or how Wednesday let Enid slump on her shoulder during their roadtrip that somehow, someway, it would all just stop.
Enid could touch Wednesday, and Wednesday could touch Enid. And no one else could.
It seemed there were a lot of things that Enid could do that others couldn’t. Morticia once used her to try to get Wednesday to attend the Addams family reunion. Bianca routinely would corner Enid and pressure her to go to the fencing club, because then Wednesday would too. Pugsley would grab Enid’s legs and whine until she promised to “protect him” from his sister. (It never worked. Wednesday would always find him.)
Enid and Wednesday. Wednesday and Enid.
They were best friends.
Besties.
Enid fought the warm feeling in her chest down.
Yup, besties.
—
Wednesday sat on the edge of Enid’s bed as she ate. Normally, she would feel self-conscious eating alone with Wednesday’s dark eyes watching her, but Enid was too hungry to mind right now.
“Do you want me to apologize?” Wednesday asked, breaking the silence. It was a genuine question.
Enid thought for a moment. “Only if you mean it.”
Wednesday nodded with a hum. She pointedly did not. Instead, she got up and went to her desk.
Enid would have thrown a pillow at her, but she was busy, shoveling food in her mouth.
Next time.
But Wednesday was coming back, holding some paper. She gently brought it over to Enid. If she didn’t do any better, she would think Wednesday was nervous.
“I drew this,” she said softly. “It’s for you. So you can see yourself the way I see you.”
Enid smiled before she even looked over. She took it and almost choked.
Why she was expecting anything other than a serial killer-esque drawing was beyond her. It was like Wednesday had lost her mind. A wolf was drawn out in dark ink. Big teeth. Horrible, big eyes. It was drawn with a heavy yet erratic hand like it was a frantic sketch. There were words at the top, but it was chicken scratch, overlapping, some large and some repeated over and over. She could make out the words “wolf”, “beautiful”, and “feed” written at least a dozen times over and over, becoming almost unintelligible.
“Wow, Wends. This…” She couldn’t think of anything to say but the truth. “This…should be hanging in a psych ward,” Enid grimaced. “Uh, thank you for thinking of me.”
Wednesday looked incredibly proud of herself.
—
Yoko could not stop laughing.
Enid’s face was red. She was regretting showing her the picture now. It felt oddly personal and private, but she didn’t have much of a choice. When Yoko spotted the dark scribbles poking out from Enid’s notebook, she snatched the drawing before Enid could stop her.
Vampires had a poor sense of mortality. Probably had something to do with eternal life and all that. Because if she was more aware, she would have realized laughing at Wednesday was a death sentence.
Enid snatched it back. “Alright, alright. Stop,” she insisted. Her eyes glanced warily to the front of the classroom where Wednesday was sitting. Her back was perfectly ramrod straight. Her hands clasped in front of her, set on the desk. It didn’t seem like she had noticed. Not yet.
“This is how she sees you?” Yoko whispered harshly.
“I think it’s sweet,” Enid shrugged. Her cheeks felt warm. Regardless of the creepy factor, Wednesday made this for her. Maybe her artistic interpretation is arguably enough to institutionalize someone. But hey, its the thought that counts, and it could not be denied that it was very Wednesday. It was truly how she saw her. Beautiful and frightening. There was that feeling again in her chest. “She really likes my wolf form. I guess she let me out of the cages last night.”
Yoko stiffened. “Have you told anyone about that?”
“What? No.” She was confused. Why was Yoko acting so serious now?
“Enid, a normie was found torn apart this morning. They're saying it was a bear, but you don’t think…” Yoko’s eyes moved to the drawing. The sharp teeth. The soulless eyes. The monster.
“Miss Sinclair! Miss Tanaka! Quiet please!” the teacher called out. Heads swiveled to stare at them, to judge them, to eavesdrop, but the only one that mattered was Wednesday. Enid found her dark eyes first. She couldn’t look away.
Wednesday was frozen for a moment. Everyone else was focused on the lecture, but the two were locked in a brief staring contest. Enid wondered if Wednesday knew what she was thinking. If she could feel her panic, her anxious heartbeat. Suddenly, Wednesday turned forward as if nothing happened, ripping her eyes away. The lecture kept going.
Enid gripped the table and tried not to feel so sick.
—
“So maybe you killed a guy? Big whoop. Most people here have,” Yoko shrugged. She was trying desperately to normalize this, to console Enid, to bring her off the ledge.
It wasn’t working.
“I’m going to kill her,” Enid mumbled. She was marching through the halls, moving towards the dorms. She needed to get away. Be anywhere as long as she was away from Wednesday. “God, I’m going to kill her,” she said again.
“Oh okay. Let not, like, make it a trend now.”
“No, not actually. Just – “ Enid slid her palms over her face like she could physically smooth out the bad thoughts. “I can’t believe she didn’t tell me that I…did that. God. I can’t believe I killed someone. How… How could she let me do that? How could she not tell me?”
She stormed into her room. One side was covered in pink, K-pop posters, polaroids, and stuffed animals. The other was pristine, black and white, and so, so Wednesday.
Without her roommate around, Yoko meandered on the dark side of the room, running her fingers along the record player.
Enid glanced over and frowned. “Don’t touch. She can tell.”
Yoko ignored her, inspecting Wednesday's book collection. She picked up one from Albert Camus. She flipped through it, looking bored, until she gasped loudly. “Enid! When was this?” She was holding something up.
Enid squinted but relented and walked over. She took the picture gently from Yoko’s hand. Huh. She hadn’t realized Wednesday had kept it and she never expected her to use it as a bookmark. There was that feeling again. Warm and shifty inside her chest.
It was a polaroid of Wednesday and Enid. Enid and Wednesday wearing their matching snoods. Enid was beaming. Wednesday has a little smirk.
Wednesday had taken the photo from Enid the second it printed like it was some bomb about to explode.
(“There can be no evidence of this.” “But we’re so cute!” “No evidence!”)
“I thought she threw it away,” Enid murmured.
“Geez, she really likes you, huh.”
“We’re best friends.”
Yoko winced. “Right. Yeah. That doesn’t sting. Not like I’ve known for years. But sure. Sure.”
Enid handed the photo back to her. She almost wanted to keep it. To sear it into her memory. To print it on her brain. But if Wednesday lost her page because of her, well, then she definitely wasn’t going to talk to her about last night.
Yoko slipped it back into the book and placed it back on the desk. “You know…” she started but hesitated. “You know Wednesday might like…really like you. Like, like you.” She said each word carefully like Enid was some spooked animal.
Enid rolled her eyes and shook her head. She couldn’t deal with this right now. “Not funny, Yoko.” she said curtly.
“No,” Yoko continued, more confident. “I’m being serious like the drawing, hiding the photo - Didn’t she call you beautiful?”
“My wolf is beautiful,” Enid corrected. It surprised her though to hear herself almost jealous. “Wends would find any monster beautiful.”
Yoko just nodded. She probably would have pushed the issue more if Wednesday herself didn’t come striding in. Her face was slightly more flushed from speed walking through the school and up the stairs. Her bangs were slightly parted. Her hands were perfectly clasped together.
Enid smiled, but Wednesday’s eyes found Yoko first. She stiffened instantly when she noticed the vampire on her side of the room. “Tanaka,” she said carefully. “I don’t recall inviting you over.”
“Right. Yes. I was just – I’ll let you guys talk,” and just like that the confidence and the bravado was gone. Messing with Wednesday was always just fun in theory, never in practice. Yoko gave Enid a thumbs-up, wishing her silently good luck, before she was gone, speeding off before she could realize her stuff had been rifled with.
Wednesday stood in the center of the room where once a duct tape line divided their space. “I loathe that bloodsucker and her sticky fingers,” she said slowly.
“Hey, you freed me last night. You don’t get to be mad right now!”
Wednesday blinked. “I’m confused. I’m not mad right now,” She blinked again, clearly lost. “Are you mad right now?”
“Yes! Yes, I am!” Enid squawked. She jumped off the bed, moving forward, and suddenly they were face to face. “A guy is dead, Wednesday. So, I’m going to ask you something, and I need you to –“ She moved her finger to jab the girl’s chest, but Wednesday was faster, snatching her hand, and pulling her closer.
Enid choked on whatever she was going to say.
It wasn’t important anyways.
Not anymore.
Not with Wednesday so close, gripping her hand fiercely, staring at her with those big, dark eyes.
“You did not do it,” Wednesday said slowly, carefully, softly. “Whatever you’re catastrophizing about in that head of yours, it isn’t real. I was with you the whole night. We went to the lake, and we played under the trees.”
Her grip loosened. It was different now. Warm. There. Real.
Too real. Too there. Too warm.
“Wait,” Enid froze. “You played with my wolf?”
Wednesday, instead, was the one now choking on her words. She blinked furiously. Gears clearly turning in that head thinking of a way out, a way to escape. She never let go of her hand.
Enid wrinkled her nose up as she tried to picture it. “It’s just, like, my wolf is as big as a bear. Like, logistically, how are you – What are you even – “
Wednesday snapped out of it and jumped back, ripping away from Enid. “Can we stick to one thing at a time?” she hissed, frustrated. She took a few steps back. “It’s too much. I was not prepared for a fight.”
Enid opened her mouth to say something. Honestly, she didn’t know what, but she stopped herself. Breathed in. Breathed out. Let it go.
“Let’s not…fight then,” she said, and Wednesday just nodded. They stared at each other for a moment, and Enid felt silly for coming in so passionately like a whirlwind. Why couldn’t she be quiet? Why couldn’t she just feel a little less? Be a little less.
She swallowed thickly, looked down. “Sorry, um. So, I’m not the killer?”
“No,” Wednesday almost whispered. Her eyes were so big. “No, but there’s another it seems.”
“Wait,” Enid hesitated. “Did I just give you a new project?”
“No. Of course not.”
—
There was a murder board by lunch.
Enid inspected it carefully, following the red string as it passed through pin to pin. Polaroids of all her friends' faces stared back at her. White notes scribbled in Wednesday’s beautiful cursive.
“Hey, Wednesday,” Enid said, careful to sound casual. “Uh, why are all the suspects my friends?”
“I always question my enemies first,” Wednesday scoffed.
“Hey!” Enid spun around to face her. Wednesday had been at her desk for the last hour, grumbling and mumbling to herself as she was inspecting some clothing samples she had collected at the scene of the crime. It had been left behind by some incompetent buffoon — Wednesday’s words, of course.
“Hey!” Enid said again, and finally Wednesday looked over her shoulder. Her brows were furrowed, and she had that ridiculous, annoyed pout. But it was a start. “Why do you immediately assume you're involved in the murder?”
“Aren’t most murders here about me?” Wednesday said. She almost looked about ready to smile. Almost. She turned forward. “Come here. Do you recognize this?”
“Um, it’s corduroy. It smells like – “ Enid inhaled. Chemicals. Bleach. Cleaning products. It was so strong she could almost taste it. “A lot of cleaning products, and this is going to sound stupid, but I’m getting a faint whiff of…pineapple.”
“Pineapple,” Wednesday parroted back. Her eyebrows dropped back down.
“Didn’t we have that for lunch the other day?”
“It could be that one of our classmates was at the scene,” Wednesday murmured, clearly thinking a million things. She always got that distant voice when that genius detective brain was in constant motion, Enid mused. Wednesday, then, suddenly blinked. Some decisions had been made. Her whole body went rigid.
“I must speak to the lunch ladies immediately,” Wednesday announced.
“Yeah, but, uh, we got class.”
“You go without me. I'll be late,” Wednesday said tensely as she was already marching out the door. A woman on a mission. She didn’t even shut the door behind her.
Enid just smirked and skipped after her. It was always like this to some degree. All the years as roommates, Enid has unfortunately gotten used to the fact that Wednesday attracted nothing but danger and mystery and chaos. There was always some mystery she was trying to solve. Although, they did vary in severity.
(“Yay! Wednesday! You found Mr. Pinkie!”)
(Wednesday’s left eye twitched. “Never speak of this again.”)
It was a wonder how that girl had all the time in the world to hunt down anything from the latest jerk who bullied Pugsley to a serial killer and also attend school. Enid tried very, very hard not to be jealous that, even though she only participated in about half of Wednesday’s shenanigans, Wednesday had much better grades. Perfect grades, actually. Somehow, she was on track to be valedictorian. Enid would be lucky if she got into college.
(“How are you so good at chemistry?”)
(“I got a chemistry kit when I was a child for Christmas. My Uncle Fester and I would do experiments together.”)
(“Aw! That’s so cute! Little Wends!” she gushed.)
("Yes, our meth lab was incredibly successful.”)
—
Enid decided to let Wednesday have her fun and went to class alone. She missed the company of her cold presence beside her, but she could survive. She spent class poking Yoko to keep her awake and pretending to gag whenever she drooled over Divina.
Bruno was sitting in the front desk. He looked over his shoulder, slightly waving his finger in hello. His dark hair. His skin. His almost shy smile. If she squinted, she shrunk him down, if she believed hard enough, she might like a boy like him.
She swallowed the lump in her throat. Everything felt tight. That feeling. Those thoughts. Wednesday. Wednesday. It was getting harder and harder to deny. Harder and harder to push down. She used to feel it on rare occasions. The first time Wednesday smiled because of her. When Wednesday grabbed her hand to pull her towards the lunch line and then never let go. Now, Enid felt it when she just thought of the girl. It was her first thought when she woke up, when she went to bed, when… when she smelled that scent of coffee, iron, ink, and peppermint…
Wednesday entered the room. Right. That would explain it. It was almost frightening how even the slightest whiff and Enid could feel her muscles relax, her heart would stow, and her mind begin to clear.
It was definitely getting harder and harder to deny.
Enid looked over shoulder and waved at Wednesday who took a solitary seat in the corner.
Wednesday stared back. Her gaze softened. And if anyone asked, Enid would swear she saw Wednesday’s fingers, barely noticeable to anyone else, twitch to her back.
—
After years of living together (not to mention the occasional trips to each other’s homes over winter and summer break), they had perfected bed time.
It was perfect. Wednesday needed a cold shower. Contrary to what some might think, she loved a long shower. It quieted her mind, she said. While she did that, Enid would remove her make-up. Smearing it all away and feeling fresh. She’d change into her pajamas and by then Wednesday was out. Wednesday would change while Enid cleaned her face in the sink. And then lights out. Well, with the exception of the low glow of Enid’s phone as she doomscrolled and Wednesday’s clip-on book light.
Enid always beamed when she saw it click on. It would illuminate Wednesday’s face so just her big eyes are exceptionally bright and her little pout so pronounced. Enid had gotten it for her last Christmas.
This time – the quiet scrolling and flipping, the deep breathing, the little noises — sometimes would get interrupted by a soft whisper. Normally, it was Enid.
(”Would we still be friends if I was a worm?”)
(Wednesday frowned. “I’d eat you.”)
(“Hot,” Enid snorted.)
(Wednesday slammed her book shut and pulled the covers over her head.)
But it was unmistakable. There it was. Wednesday’s little voice sounded so soft, so sweet, so concerned. Enid could feel herself melting. This was getting harder and harder to fight down.
“Are you feeling better?”
Enid picked herself up so she could see Wednesday better. From here, she looked so small. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good, Wends.”
“I’m sorry about the… jailbreak.”
“It’s alright,” Enid said just as softly, just as sweetly. “You know, Esther signed the permission slip. I can now just wolf out in the woods with you instead of the cage. Maybe that’ll be easier than going all Shawshank, huh?”
“I admit… that does sound far more practical than my idea,” Wednesday mused. She stopped for a moment, thinking over something silently before she caved. “I don’t understand. If you have that slip, then why do you opt for the cages?”
“Oh,” Enid felt like the wind had been sucked out in her lungs. She lowered herself back down onto the bed. It was better not to be looking at Wednesday for this. “I haven’t been in the woods since…you know.”
There was silence for a beat.
“Really?”
“Really.”
“So, when I broke you out, that was…your first time in the Nevermore woods since that – “ Wednesday hissed suddenly like it was physically painful for her to say his name. Her teeth were gritted. Enid knew though when she meant.
“Yeah,” Enid sighed. Her voice was a little shaky, a little strange. “I know it’s stupid. I’d be totally fine. It’s all good, but I still have nightmares. I still have the scars.”
“That you douse in make-up,” Wednesday bitterly grumbled under her breath. “Waste of a perfectly good scar.”
“Okay! Not the point, weirdo,” Enid chuckled lightly. She rubbed the back of her neck. It was hard to articulate. “I’m just saying – I wasn’t particularly interested in ever going back. It wasn’t like a thing. The first few times I just thought it would be easier to stick with the lupin cages, especially cause I had a tough time in the beginning. Well, then the longer that I didn’t do it, the longer I stayed in the cage… Well, I just started to feel safe there.” She almost felt relief saying it aloud.
Wednesday stood up abruptly. She was standing perfectly still, and then suddenly, she was striding over, leaning over Enid. Enid didn’t even know what to say, what to do. It all took her by surprise, and then Wednesday was crawling into the bed and, at first stiffly, wrapped her arms around Enid.
“Oh,” Enid gasped. She shivered at the touch. Everything was on fire even though Wednesday was so cold.
“You told me physical affection is useful to comfort you,” Wednesday said as she started to relax, and Enid held her back, just as tightly. “I am trying,” Wednesday continued. “See, you told me something deeply disturbing. Therefore, I am here to comfort you.”
“What? Hey!” Enid yelped, offended. “It’s not, like, a big thing.”
“No, it is,” she said matter of factly. “You have depressed me with this… unsettling confession.”
“Wends!”
Wednesday pulled back so fast, Enid flinched. They were facing each other in the bed, nearly nose to nose. Wednesday still had her hands on Enid’s shoulders, and she was staring at her wildly. Her eyes were so big, so intense, so her.
Enid swallowed thickly. It was getting harder to fight. It was getting harder to even want to fight it off to begin with. Peppermint. Iron. Ink.
“You are an unstoppable force,” Wednesday said with so much confidence, so much admiration. Her eyes were so big. She believed every word. She believed so much in Enid. Peppermint. Iron. Ink. “You are strong and powerful, and you never relent.”
Enid wanted to believe it. She wanted to. But there was something in her heart, in her head, in her memories, in Esther’s voice, that told her differently.
“Yeah. I get it. I’m the big bad wolf,” Enid said, cracking a small, nervous smile. “You really love my wolf form, huh?”
Wednesday’s brow furrowed. Her grip on Enid’s shoulders tightened.
“Enid, I worry you misunderstand me,” she said slowly. “You…” She frowned and started over. “I need you to know that I don’t see your wolf form and you as separate. It’s you. It’s all you. You are strong. You are powerful.”
Peppermint. Iron. Ink.
Wednesday’s hand moved to her cheek. Her thumb gently caressed the grooves on her skin with such tenderness. Shivers ran down Enid’s back.
“You are breathtaking,” Wednesday said, and Enid surged forward.
Peppermint. Iron. Ink.
Their lips crashed furiously together. Something inside them both had snapped. Something Enid never, ever wanted to fix.
Wednesday kissed her with passion, with vigor, with pure devotion. Her hands moving up toward Enid’s hair, nails scratching against her scalp. Enid was melting.
Enid’s claws came out and unintentionally grazed Wednesday’s back. Wednesday hissed. Her sleep shirt was shredded and her back now sported red scratches, barely blotting with blood.
“Oh em gee, I am so - “
But Wednesday was smiling, bright, wild, crazed.
And Enid couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped. She couldn’t believe this was happening. She forgot she was making out with an Addams.
Wednesday initiated this kiss, but this time it was slow, soft. It was a whisper. She drew back. Her breathing was off. Enid couldn’t believe this was happening. She couldn’t believe she did that to Wednesday. The girl looked so uncharacteristically disheveled. Her pupils were wide and dilated. Her braids were messy. Her mouth agape.
Enid thought she never looked more beautiful.
“To answer your original question,” Wednesday said shakily. She closed her eyes, steeling herself. Her eyes opened, warm and doting. “It’s not just your wolf form. I love you.”
“Why are you so suave?” Enid stage-whispered like it was an aside which got Wednesday to smile and huff. It was the closest Enid could get to a laugh out of Wednesday. Drunk and giddy and delirious off this moment, of this closeness, of this love, Enid continued teasing. “No seriously. Where did any of this come from, you little weirdo?” Her cheeks were warm. Her smile grew. “God, I love you too, Wends,” she blurted out.
Wednesday’s eyebrows flew up. “You do?”
“I love you. I love you. I love you.” And Enid doesn’t know what possessed her, but she grabbed Wednesday’s little cheeks. Maybe just because she knew she could. Maybe because Wednesday looked so cute with that disbelief in her eyes. God, it was so adorable. So Wednesday.
Holding Wednesday’s face, Enid grew very serious. “Wednesday, I don’t think I was really living before I met you. You pushed me to be me. To really be me. To not care about the pack, popularity, or moms. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this free before. And I wouldn’t have gotten there without you.”
“You would have,” Wednesday said assuredly.
“Maybe. Maybe not, but I’m changed because of you. You left an indelible mark,” she grinned.
Wednesday smiled too and kissed her again and again
—
Breakfast is strangely normal until it isn’t.
Yoko is yelling at Kent for something he did to his sister, Divina. Bianca is objecting every three seconds by yelling, “Hold on! Hold on!” And Enid is watching the chaos with Wednesday's hand in hers.
They rest their hands on their thighs. They’re so close they’re almost on top of each other.
“WAIT!” Yoko shouted. Whatever she was arguing about was suddenly forgotten as her eyes narrowed on Wednesday and Enid. “What is going on here?”
“Lunch,” Wednesday answered seriously.
“No, the vibes are… different. And y’all are snuggling right now. Isn’t anyone else seeing this?” Yoko looked around for support. Bianca snorted a laugh while Divina hummed in agreement, bobbing her head like a fish. Someone two tables away whooped.
“The, um, best friend position in my life is open again, Yokes. It, uh, looks like Wednesday got promoted,” Enid said, grinning without intending to.
“Holy shit. Congrats. I mean, we all knew, but super cool that it took you until senior year to figure it out,” Yoko laughed. She clapped her hands together, fangs completely on display with that crooked grin. “So, when’s the first date? What’s the plan? Wednesday gonna get a leash or what?
“I - “
Wednesday stood up. “Enid, I will be in our room when you’re done entertaining the peanut gallery.” She fixed a very dangerous stare at Yoko before she walked off.
“Shit,” Yoko murmured under her breath. Again, better to mess with Wednesday in theory than in practice.
“Maybe sleep with one eye open tonight. Alright, Yokes?” Enid said in a sickeningly sweet voice. She patted her friend on the shoulder and skipped off to follow her girlfriend, completely and very deliberately ignoring Yoko’s dread.
—
When Enid got to the dorm, there was a note on her bed. She froze.
“Wends, uh… Do we have another stalker?” she asked, but Wednesday didn’t respond from the bathroom. Nervously, Enid inched closer like the note was some sort of bomb. Gingerly, she picked up the page. Each letter was cut out from a different magazine like a classic serial killer. Although, this particular serial killer was asking Enid out on a date.
Wednesday stepped out of the bathroom. Her eyebrows shot up. “Ah, I see you found my note.”
“You are so weird,” Enid said with a warm giggle, and it sounded like a love poem in Wednesday’s ears. “Course. I’d love to go out with you on an official date, but, uh, Wends… What is this address?”
“Oh, right. Yes, that’s the house where the killer is,” Wednesday said like it was obvious.
Enid’s mind went blank. She blinked, looked at the note, then up as she tried to process. “Wait. You want our first date to be hunting down a killer?”
Wednesday’s eyes flickered to the note. She looked nervous with her hands clasped together in front of her like that. She spoke confidently though. “Yes,” she said carefully, slowly. “but if you continue reading, you’ll see that in the note I also proposed that the date includes dinner after.”
Enid didn’t even need a moment to think. She shrugged. “Yeah, alright. Pass me my coat.” She grabbed her girlfriend’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Let’s do this.”