Chapter Text
“I don’t get it, Yoko! I don’t get why she has to be like this!”
Yoko looks up from the essay on the dangers of mixing potions she’s been attempting to work on and would finish if Enid would just shut up. Her best friend of one year paces around the center of the room, back and forth and around in a circle. It’s making Yoko dizzy, and that’s not easy to do to someone who spends half her time hung upside down in bat form.
“She’s just—UGH!” Enid flails around, gesturing towards the ceiling like she’s trying flip off a god or something. “I have been nothing but nice to her, and all she does in return is almost get me killed!”
“Are you gonna unpack or no?” Yoko asks, clicking her gel pen. The ink is black but the outer plastic is as red as the blood she drinks. “You said you wanted to crash here for a few nights, and you brought luggage, so might as well start unpacking. You’re gonna be here for awhile.”
Enid stops in the middle of the room and folds her arms over her chest. Her pink nose crinkles up and her upper lip curls.
“Here we go,” Yoko sighs and drops her pen.
“You aren’t listening to me,” Enid whines. “I’m trying to vent and all you’re doing is just writing in that stupid notebook.”
“Uh, I’m doing an assignment so I don’t fail alchemy,” Yoko says, slighted by the way Enid just rolls her eyes. “You should be doing yours, too, instead of worrying about Addams and crying about how she likes to get stab-happy.”
“Yoko, could you just let me rant for, like, five minutes before you start flapping your gums and giving me a lecture about how she’s not worth being mad over?” Enid sighs. She plops herself at the edge of Yoko’s bed and swings her feet. “It’s not fair.”
“Well, it’s already been ten minutes of you ranting and you’ve been here for eleven,” Yoko points out as she moves aside her notebook and textbook. “Fine. Go ahead and spill your guts out all over my nice area rug.”
Enid takes a deep breath, trying to work up enough courage to untangle her feelings without tears spilling over her eyelids. The moment she left Wednesday alone in their—Wednesday’s—dorm room, her eyes grew wet and her nose began to run. She managed to suppress it by the time she showed up at Yoko’s door with her belongings in tow, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t there.
“I really thought she wanted to hang out with me,” she tells Yoko. “I thought that, maybe, she was finally starting to like me. And then she just used me to get what she wanted, even if it meant almost killing me in the process. She just can’t be a good person to be a good person. There’s always a motive behind her good deeds. I just don’t understand how someone could be so insensitive all the time.”
Sympathetically patting Enid’s knee, Yoko frowns at her best friend. She scoots closer to her and nudges her shoulder with hers.
“Some people are just like that, and you have to accept it,” says Yoko, brushing back some pink hair from Enid’s face like a mother would for her rejected, lonely child. “Take my former roommate as an example. She was a raging bitch. I tried being nice to her and offering her to hang out with me and Divina, and the one time she agreed, she went back and told Bianca all kinds of awful shit about Divina. Sometimes people really just suck.”
Enid gives Yoko a cross look. “We’re talking about me, not you.”
“Geez, ever heard of commiserating and relating?” Yoko rolls her eyes. “But anyway, continue ranting. But make it entertaining.”
“She’s just so rude!” Enid exclaims, jumping to her feet and resuming her pacing. “Like, I know that she likes to be alone, but I just wanted her to at least acknowledge my presence and stop acting like an institutionalized toddler all the time! If she doesn’t like or want to do something, if it isn’t her way, she gets all pissy and starts trying to seek revenge. It’s really disturbing.”
She turns to face Yoko, surveying her facial muscles for any real signs of give-a-shit or the slightest bit of sympathy. Yoko remains nearly as cold and void as Wednesday always is, hardly giving Enid a second glance as she shrugs one pathetic shoulder.
“If you’re really that disturbed by her, maybe you should just tell Thornhill that you want to permanently room with me,” Yoko suggests. “I have vacancy.”
She gestures to the empty bed and plain beige walls across the room. It’s as if no one has been there before. Whoever cleaned up the dorms during summer break did a fantastic job of scraping up all the teenager residue from that side.
“Yeah, I think Wednesday would enjoy never having to breathe the same air as me ever again,” Enid sighs, sitting in the desk chair opposite Yoko. “It’s totally unfair. That was my room first. It has all my plushies and posters and pictures of me and all my friends. I customized it first. And my window! I spent a whole day putting up that film on the glass, and she just—she just ripped half of it off! She is so fucking rude!”
She misses the flinch on Yoko’s face. Perhaps that’s for the better, because she’s sick of apologizing to people.
Yoko nods. “Well, I really don’t want Wednesday rooming with me. I get that you were there first, but your only option is to move rooms. No one could ever put up with Wednesday. I’d just end up killing her or turning her into a bat forever. Make her my pet.”
Enid’s eyes cautiously shift towards Yoko. “And how would you manage to do that?”
“I’m literally failing my potion making course,” Yoko chuckles. “I’ll find a way.”
Pondering for a moment, Enid tries to make a decision for herself that doesn’t involve considering Wednesday’s feelings. She has made so many efforts to include and consider Wednesday in everything she has done; she’s learned to keep her music down when Wednesday is writing, she dims her lights on her side of the room when Wednesday retires to bed earlier than she does, she chuckles rather than giggles. She’s done so much, and she doesn’t want to anymore.
Wednesday Addams is a selfish, inconsiderate, rotten little girl who was born with a silver spoon in her mouth, and that’s all she will ever be to Enid; an entitled, childish person who will reap what she sows when she grows up to live alone with her seven cats and no outlook in life except waking up in her solitude.
She doesn’t want to give into the urge to make amends. Wednesday doesn’t like her. She doesn’t appreciate her unicorn collection or her pastel nail polish or the way she giggles and kicks her feet when she texts.
Wednesday hates her, and that’s just fine, because Enid doesn’t need her. She never needed her before the semester began, she doesn’t need her now, and she will never need her.
“I’ll just tell Thornhill that I want to be your new roomie,” she finally declares, holding in what feels like a desperate scream for help. “She doesn’t have to be friends with me if she hates me so much. I have you, and that’s all I need.”
“I concur,” Yoko says, reclining back on her bed and picking up her notebook and pen. “Now that Mama Yoko has made it all better, can I go back to my assignment before I totally flunk this class?”
“Yeah, whatever,” Enid replies with a twinkle in her eye as she makes herself at home on the empty bed, kicking her feet up and claiming the scratchy pillow for herself. “And never, ever refer to yourself as Mama Yoko ever again in your entire life.”
Pen between her teeth, Yoko winks.
“Perv,” Enid giggles, already swiping through text messages and Instagram posts. She takes a brief glance at Yoko, trying to force her lips to pull into a smile. “I think I’m gonna like it here.”
She doesn’t know if she’s going to like it here, though.
—
Of course Enid ends up moving back in, and happily, at that.
They’re living together for approximately three weeks before all hell breaks loose, people die, and everyone is sent home for the rest of the calendar year.
When Enid and Wednesday return from their impromptu extended holiday break, Wednesday immediately notices the eyesore on her roommate’s arm. He’s almost six feet tall and has snakes for hair, and he also smiles at Enid like she’s the best thing he’s ever seen.
It’s early February by the time Wednesday notices that Enid is absent from their room rather frequently, more so than she typically was before the incident, as everyone is calling it. Every Friday and Saturday, she alternates excuses, citing Yoko and a girls’ night in her dorm, or Ajax and a date to a cutesy little cafe or a nice restaurant. It’s always something, and it never involves Wednesday. It hasn’t involved Wednesday in a long time.
She’s absolutely floored when she enters her dorm on a Saturday afternoon to find Ajax and Enid having a makeshift date on Enid’s bed. They’re being so giggly and touchy with each other, to the point that it makes Wednesday’s stomach bubble with disgust. They remind her, very negatively, of her own parents and the way they so profoundly show each other affection in the form of sloppy kisses and hand-holding. She wonders if their reproductions of themselves will also pathetically view them the way Wednesday views her parents.
Their reproductions. Their children. Their offspring that they could be in the process of creating right here, in this room, feet away from Wednesday’s bed.
“Enid,” Wednesday coldly says, slamming the door behind herself.
Enid separates herself from Ajax, saliva smeared down her chin. She swipes her sleeve over her mouth and stutters.
“Oh, you’re home!” she exclaims. “I thought you were at fencing!”
“I was, and then I overpowered my opponent in the first round and he had to be escorted to the nurse before the second could even begin,” she explains, eyes shifting towards Ajax and back to Enid. “You aren’t meant to have boys in this room. We are separated for a reason. To prevent. . .this.”
Ajax doesn’t pay Wednesday any mind. He takes false interest in one of Enid’s girly unicorn plushies and plays with its hair, the same way he tenderly strokes back Enid’s when it’s falling over her eyes. He’s clearly making a show of avoiding Wednesday altogether, and it isn’t working so well. He can feel her seething with rage just a foot behind him.
“His roommate was home,” Enid tries to explain, gesturing to Ajax. “And you weren’t. Until now. But I was totally planning on kicking him out before you got back. So yeah.”
Turning to her immediate left, Wednesday narrows her eyes at Ajax. “You may leave now. You aren’t supposed to be here at all. You’re hardly fortunate that I don’t inform our and your dorm mother about you sneaking into the girls’ hall.”
“We do this all the time,” he tells her, holding the unicorn in his lap. “You haven’t noticed.”
Enid elbows him in the gut. “Ajax! You swore you wouldn’t tell anyone!”
“Ow!” he cries, holding his ribs. “She found out anyway! It shouldn’t matter now!”
Wednesday’s new therapist suggested breathing exercises to control her anger outbursts. Breathing exercises are for people suffering in the labor and delivery ward, not for her, so to hell with that.
“Do the planet a favor and do not procreate,” she tells Ajax. “I haven’t yet completed the gorgon unit in outcast anatomy, so perhaps I’m wrong and being presumptuous, but those snakes must account for about half of your skull’s space where the human brain should be. I cannot imagine that your children would benefit from that.”
Ajax tugs at his hat. “Hey! That’s totally mean!”
“You need to leave,” says Wednesday, keeping it curt. “Right now.”
“Wednesday,” Enid warns. “Don’t start flipping out on me.”
“I’m not.” It’s meant to be towards Enid, but she’s still staring at Ajax with those big doe eyes. “You need to leave and not come back. You aren’t supposed to be here. You’re breaking a major rule implemented to prevent the procreation of other outcasts that would financially ruin you, Enid, and your parents when they have to bear the burden of children having children.”
“We aren’t having sex!” he exclaims. “We’re just kissing! Don’t you know what that is?! You can’t get pregnant from it!”
“That isn’t the point,” Wednesday seethes. She hasn’t realized that she’s trembling. “The point is that you cannot be here. I’m uncomfortable with a boy in my room.”
Enid reaches out to grab onto Wednesday’s arm, to which she’s shoved off. She sits back and tries to draw in a breath without choking. Even just looking at Ajax is too difficult to do. Her eyes focus on Wednesday’s face and grace along the exhausted, angry crease in her forehead.
“Please don’t be mad, Wednesday,” she whispers. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. We just have more privacy here. I didn’t mean to make you feel violated or whatever.”
Wednesday’s shoulders hardly move with the ripples of anger flushing through her veins. She keeps it all contained in her clenched fists, still staring at Ajax with such murderous intent.
How could Enid betray her this way? How could she bring a boy into their dorm and affectionately drool into his mouth without her permission? She has absolutely no right—
“I’m sorry,” Enid tells her.
She’s sorry, but she isn’t forcing Ajax to vacate their room.
She’s sorry, but she isn’t lecturing Ajax on his unwanted, invasive presence in what’s meant to be a sanctuary for only Enid and Wednesday—and Thing—and no one else.
She’s sorry, but she isn’t going to break up with Ajax.
“It’s a bit late for apologies,” Wednesday says with earnest upset. Her eyes flick over to the gorgon. “I’ve told you to leave, several times. Why are you still sitting there like you’ve conveniently lost your ability to hear?”
He makes a scoffing noise. “I won’t leave until Enid tells me to.”
Turning to Enid and putting her under the hot light of her deadpan, vacant eyes, Wednesday clenches her jaw. “Enid. I do believe you’re meant to tell him something.”
“Wednesday, I’m sorry—“ Enid stammers, before she’s so rudely interrupted by a large puff of angry breath leaving Wednesday’s body.
“Either you tell him to leave, or I will leave,” Wednesday threatens, and she doesn’t know if she’s being sincere about it. “He goes, or I go. And I can guarantee that I have no intention of returning except to collect my belongings.”
The gorgon is still looking her up and down, tucking a threatening snake under his hat. She loathes him; the way he looks at her, the way he rolls his eyes whenever she speaks, the way he breathes.
“Who are you going to room with if you leave?” he asks her. “No one likes you enough to take you in.”
Enid glares at him. “Ajax! You are making this worse!”
When Enid next looks up, Wednesday is gathering her backpack and favorite black hoodie that she cannot survive without. Enid once accidentally mistook it for her own and wore it for the entire day. It smells like her, and as much as Wednesday wants to vomit all over it to rid it of berries and sweet lotion, she can’t bring herself to. She throws it over one shoulder and puts on her backpack.
“I will find somewhere,” she tells Enid. “It’s very clear that you’ve made your decision and selected what takes priority.”
“Please don’t go,” Enid says, gaining enough strength to stand up. “I’ll kick him out. Just don’t go.”
“That’s not fair,” Ajax interjects. “She was fine up until she realized. It didn’t affect her until now. She’s being dramatic.”
Wednesday sharply inhales, shaking her head. “You have been bringing him into our dorm for who knows how long, without informing me, and you will do it again. I don’t want an apology from you. I just want you to know that I’m aware that I might be worth a little more than degrading myself to stay here when my roommate clearly has no respect for me or my space.”
“I’m sorry.”
It’s so pathetic, Wednesday almost laughs.
“You want to have him here so badly, have him,” she snaps, turning on her heel.
Enid is calling her name as she leaves, but she doesn’t make a real attempt to stop her. Wednesday slams the door closed and stands outside the door for a minute, listening to the sound of Enid angrily growling and saying something to Ajax. They have a bit of an argument, and Wednesday impatiently waits for the boy to come bursting out of the room, but that doesn’t happen.
Just as quickly as Enid falls in love, she clears up a disagreement and proceeds with her everyday life as if nothing happened. Even if she’s upset with Ajax, she won’t leave him.
It doesn’t settle upon Wednesday for another minute. She’s alone, practically homeless and orphaned, and has no one to turn to. Perhaps Ajax was right about one thing; no one likes her enough to take her in. No one would ever entertain the thought of her. The mere sight of her is enough to send anyone running for the hills.
Still, she needs to find solace somewhere. She’ll seek her dorm mother later to inform her of Enid’s wrongdoing and have Ajax punished for it. For now, she needs a place to drop what little belongings she has and take a breather so she doesn’t return to her—Enid’s—room and rip every single snake from that boy’s scalp.
Her feet move on their own accord and then she’s staring at Yoko’s door. She isn’t exactly close to the vampire in any capacity. She’s been made to sit in close proximity to her at lunch, in company with Enid, and she’s accidentally tuned into some of her gossip, but she would hardly call her a friend. If anything, she’s just as annoying as Enid is, if not more so.
Before she can suppress the urge, she tentatively knocks on the door a few times. It’s quiet for a moment, and once she thinks Yoko isn’t home and starts to turn away, the door swings open.
“Who the fucking hell is—“ Yoko’s smooth voice suddenly stops. “Wednesday?”
Wednesday swallows and looks up at her with wetness in her eyes. She forces herself to blink once, pushing the tears to the back of her eyeballs.
“I am moving in with you,” she declares. “You have vacancy and I am homeless.”
Yoko rubs her eyes. This is perhaps the first time Wednesday has gotten a good look at them without the protective sunglasses. They’re dark with a fleck of gold in the irises.
“I’m still dreaming,” Yoko says to herself, smacking her jaw. “Wake up, Yoko.”
“This isn’t a dream,” Wednesday tells her. “I’m your new roommate.”
“The fuck you are,” Yoko laughs. “Who made this decision without telling me? I didn’t ask for a roommate.”
The grimace of disgust on Yoko’s face almost makes Wednesday feel sorry for herself. Almost. She isn’t going to stoop to the level of others and become emotional just because she’s unloved. She doesn’t need to be loved by anyone to feel whole.
“No one made this decision but me,” she finally tells Yoko, painfully swallowing. “Enid and I had a bit of a disagreement over a matter that’s not very important right now. I made the choice to leave, and I’m now in search of a roommate. You conveniently have an empty bed and enough room for me to wallow in my pity.”
“Uh. . .” Yoko glances behind herself. “Okay. But you can’t live here. I’m only taking you in because you remind me of a stray cat. I love cats.”
She opens the door wider, letting Wednesday in despite her reluctance.
Wednesday lifts her head and takes in the decor. Yoko’s side is much less of an eyesore. Her color palette of choice is made up of dark grey and several shades or blood red. There are band posters plastered all over the walls and black and purple clothing draped over every curved edge. She appreciates the yellow lava lamp sitting on the nightstand.
“Much better than Enid’s unicorn collection,” she observes, shrugging off her backpack and gently placing it on the floor alongside her hoodie that she neatly lays over it. “It doesn’t hurt my eyes.”
“Don’t get too comfortable,” Yoko warns, sitting at the edge of her bed. She pats the empty spot next to her. “Now come sit and tell me what happened.”
“Is that necessary?” Wednesday asks, hesitant.
“If you wanna stay here, yes,” she replies. She smiles big enough to show her fangs. “I promise I won’t bite.”
She supposes she can’t despise Yoko enough to not be here. Yoko is an interesting species, vampire or not. She’s a gossiper and knows everything about everyone before they even do, but she’s also quite loyal to those she has affection for. Or so Enid claims.
“Tell Mama Yoko what happened.”
Wednesday’s shifty eyes practically burst open.
“I would appreciate it if you never refer to yourself that way ever again,” Wednesday says, smoothing out her pants, like she’s trying to rid herself of the filth she saw not five minutes ago.
“You and Enid are legit the same person,” Yoko giggles. “Anyway. What happened? We aren’t close and you hate everyone but Enid, so this is kinda shocking.”
She wastes absolutely no time in tattling. Enid deserves it.
“I walked in on Enid and Ajax. . .having relations in our room,” she says.
“Excuse the fuck outta me?!” exclaims Yoko, grabbing onto the edge of her bed to stop herself from falling over. “They were. . .you know, doing it?”
“They were kissing, yes,” Wednesday affirms with a very confident nod. “Very intimately, too.”
“Oh,” Yoko sighs, hand over her chest. “You almost made my dead heart come alive.”
“It’s unfair of her to bring him into our room and have those kinds of relations without my knowledge, Yoko,” she states, folding her arms. “She’s, apparently, done it several times. I think I deserved to have been informed, at the very least.”
Yoko shrugs one shoulder. “I think she should’ve told you. She shouldn’t have him in there regardless, but she could’ve at least put a sock on the door or something, like I taught her. There are children here!”
“So you agree with me,” she immediately assumes. “You agree that she was in the wrong in this situation.”
“Well, in part, but—“
Wednesday immediately stands up and does that pacing thing that Enid does in times of distress, except she looks far angrier than Enid ever does.
“I’m glad you agree and aren’t attempting to gaslight me into believing that I am wrong,” she says, breathing becoming ragged. “Ajax—that stupid, hideous gorgon boy—he insulted me while attempting to pull a ruse on me. He was trying to justify the situation. What Enid sees in him, I have not one idea. I do believe she’s out of her mind. I should have her institutionalized.”
Yoko takes a deep breath. “Okay, I really cannot deal with another lunatic right now. I’m still working on Enid. Sit down and stop pacing like that.”
Turning on her heel to abruptly face Yoko, Wednesday’s forehead angrily creases. She has that pouty scowl that Enid thinks is so cute.
“Will you help me gather the rest of my things?” she asks. “It isn’t very much. I don’t soothe myself by purchasing unnecessary items and hoarding children’s toys like Enid.”
She doesn’t give Yoko a real chance to respond before she’s digging through her backpack and removing a set of knives Uncle Fester gifted to her on her fifth birthday. They’re small, made for an equally small hand, but they’re still precious to her. She places them on the barren nightstand and begins stripping the bed of its scratchy blanket and awful cotton pillowcase.
“Um, Wednesday,” Yoko cautiously says, moving behind her but not close enough to scare her or accidentally be stabbed. “Wednesday, wait.”
Fixated on sorting her knives from largest to smallest, Wednesday sighs. “Yes, Yoko?”
“I didn’t say you could stay here permanently,” she clarifies. “And you’ll have to talk to our dorm mother. You can’t just move. You can stay the night and call it a sleepover, but you can’t move all your stuff in.”
“You’ll come to the conclusion that I am a very persuasive person,” she says. “It won’t take but one conversation before she agrees that Enid is not a compatible roommate for me.”
She takes a moment to reflect on that. She doesn’t know why it hurts so much to think that she and Enid simply do not work.
Enid lied to her. They don’t work. They shouldn’t, and they don’t.
“Did you even try talking to Enid before you left?” Yoko asks. “Maybe you can fix this.”
“She refused to force Ajax to leave,” Wednesday replies, frowning at the lack of dust on the lamp. “It’s very obvious where her priorities lie. I made my point very clear and expressed how I felt about her betrayal.”
“Alright, let’s cut back on the drama. This isn’t Hamlet,” says Yoko, rolling her eyes. “I think you need to have a discussion with Enid before you make the decision to tell anyone this happened.”
“She was being inconsiderate.”
Yoko leans up against the desk on Wednesday’s side of the room. “And you weren’t being inconsiderate when you put us all in danger last year? That was fair just because you wanted something?”
Wednesday’s frustrated frown only deepens. “That was much different. It was a dire situation. It led me right to the truth. It had to be done. Enid swapping saliva with Ajax is not imperative to survival. She had no real cause to do something of the sort.”
“You are missing the point entirely,” she replies and moves to sit on the desk. “I know you’re short, but I didn’t think that would fly right over your head.”
“You cannot compare the situation,” she tells Yoko. “She disrespected my personal space by inviting that disgusting, vile gorgon into our dorm and engaging in what could be considered sexual acts. He is deplorable, even far more so than Enid is.”
Yoko’s eyes suddenly start to twinkle.
“Oh,” she slyly says, a smirk forming. “You’re jealous. You’re jealous of Ajax.”
A knife clatters on the nightstand. Wednesday’s head twists around so she’s glaring at the vampire over her shoulder.
“How dare you insinuate that I would ever be jealous of a boy named after a cleaning product,” she snaps, now completely turning to face Yoko. “I have no reason to be envious of him. I do not find Enid attractive, nor do I ever view myself in place of Ajax.”
“I never said you did,” Yoko says.
Wednesday hesitates and tries to hear herself speaking over the rapid thumping in her chest. Enid is the palpitation in her heart, the painful twinge in her chest, the jolt of electricity in her veins. This is all her fault.
Yoko sighs and dramatically shakes her head. “Oh, you baby gay. If you like her, you need to just say that instead of putting on a middle school play for me and invading my space.”
Well, now Yoko is just being plain silly. It was annoying at first, but now Wednesday is simply angry with her for making a mockery of the issue at hand.
“I think you are misreading the situation,” she snaps at Yoko, a sharp exhale deflating her lungs. “The point I am attempting to make is that Enid was wrong for what she did. More than that, she refused to force him to leave, nor did she apologize for her actions.”
“Why does her being with Ajax upset you?” Yoko asks, folding her arms. “It’s more than just what happened today. I can see that in your eyes. You might not realize it, but you are great at communicating with just your eyes. Every time you see Enid and Ajax together, they get a lot darker and murderous. You stare at them like an angry child, like you’re inserting yourself in place of Ajax. I can see you have such hatred for Ajax.”
“Oh, quit being so presumptuous when you know nothing about me,” Wednesday says. She isn’t looking at Yoko, rather through her. “You’re making such bold assumptions because you cannot fathom that I can be upset without some sort of ulterior motive.”
“Well, I really can’t,” says Yoko, shrugging. “You don’t understand emotions, which is super cool and edgy and all that, but it’s really pathetic to watch you pine over Enid like this. If it really bothers you, it’s time to face why.”
Wednesday doesn’t like the way her knees quiver under her weight. She doesn’t like the insight Yoko is offering her. She doesn’t know why Enid finds her friendship with the vampire so valuable when these are the type of conversations that transpire.
“Point is,” Yoko coolly says, hopping off the desk, when Wednesday doesn’t say anything, “you can’t live here until you at least go back there and work this out with Enid. Like, right now.”
“I would rather not,” Wednesday immediately replies, fumbling around with her backpack. “Think of how desperate I must be to ask for your assistance.”
“I pity you, because you’re totally in the closet and suppressing it, but none of this will get better if you don’t confront it,” she remarks, though she isn’t being ugly about it. When Wednesday fails to respond with words, Yoko sighs. “Do you want Mama Yoko to fix this?”
Under her thick eyelashes, Wednesday looks at her with a petulant scowl. Yoko is tilting her head, lips curved into a comforting smile that reminds her of being lovingly waterboarded by her Uncle Fester.
“You will never speak of the. . .the jealousy I feel whenever I watch her hold hands with that disgusting snake boy,” she mutters. “You don’t need to fight my battles.”
“I promise I won’t mention anything about how you’re totally in love with her and hate that she’s attracted to snakes and dick,” Yoko cheekily assures. “I’ll just go over there and have a nice chat with her about maybe not breaking the rules and desecrating your sacred space just because she can’t rub one out on her own.”
“And you think I’ve not already done that?” Wednesday asks, somewhat slighted. “You’d be beating a dead horse.”
“Well, it’s either that or have you breathing my air and being all depressed and killing my vibe,” Yoko replies with far less snark than intended. “I know Enid. I’ve talked her out of trouble before. I’ve got this. Mama Yoko will make it all better. No need to strain yourself.”
Wednesday gives Yoko a little huff. “I told you not to refer to yourself as that. It’s quite disturbing and has very concerning implications.”
“Do you want my help or not?” Yoko asks, hands on her hips.
“I think I could adequately adjust to living here. A little more black and cobwebs would do.”
Yoko throws her head back and maniacally laughs. So much for cutting back on the drama.
“That isn’t happening,” she tells Wednesday, suddenly going cold. “You can make yourself comfortable for the night and I can put down some newspaper for you to sleep on, but you will not be moving in. That’s Divina’s bed when we have sleepovers. You’d be killing my literal vibe.”
Of course Yoko has underlying cause to punt Wednesday out of her dorm. No one would ever want such a gloomy, morose roommate. Even Enid has grown weary of her presence looming over her like a depressing Halloween decoration.
“You are absolutely disgusting, Yoko,” she says, and pauses, looking around the room before pressing her lips into a thin line. “I respect that.”
“Mama Yoko is going to fix this for you,” Yoko promises as she returns to her side of the room and grabs her sunglasses from her bed. “When the children fight, I have to fix it. That’s what I’m here for.”
“Would you stop calling yourself Mama Yoko?” Wednesday mumbles. “It’s disgusting.”
“You can call me Mommy Yoko, if that’s more comfortable for you,” Yoko remarks with a wink, stepping into some sensible shoes, even if she’s only walking a few doors down. “You take your pick.”
“You’re impossible,” Wednesday mutters under her breath, already organizing a box of matches and her collections of gel pens and notebooks on the desk. “I suppose I’ll settle in while you are preoccupied with destroying what little relationship I do have with Enid.”
There is no relationship, and maybe Wednesday knows that, but it would be nice if Yoko managed to coax Enid into leaving Ajax entirely, because he was quite rude to Wednesday and that is about equivalent to murder.
Though, she knows the likely outcome is Enid marrying Ajax and birthing several half-wolf, half-snake children. Another Nevermore love story for the books. Wednesday doesn’t like the ending of this one, either. It’s arguably far more deplorable and outright heinous than the one that resulted in her birth.
“Don’t get too comfortable,” Yoko reminds her. “Mama Yoko is gonna go fix this. You’ll be married by your twenties.”
Wednesday gives her an incredulous look.
“I told you not to mention anything of the conversation we’ve just had,” she says, grate to her voice. “I’ve already been betrayed once today, and while I cannot yet call you a friend, I would appreciate it if you did not also betray my trust.”
“Don’t you worry about that. I’m not going to say anything about it,” Yoko promises, sliding on her sunglasses. “I’m just gonna give her one of my lectures that makes her piss herself in fear.”
“If she refuses to listen to me, what makes you assume she would listen to you?” Wednesday asks.
“I’m very persuasive when I need to be,” Yoko says, and Wednesday can almost feel her sly wink. “Enid and I are very close. I’m like a big sister to her. She’s very impulsive and doesn’t always think with her head. She’ll rush into things for a temporary high, and then I have to fix it when it wears off and she’s in trouble. This is one of those times. Trust me. It’s not going to be easy, but don’t worry about that. Just concern yourself with your suppressed queerness and let me handle this.”
After a minute of hesitation, Wednesday elects to nod in agreement.
“I’m ambivalent to you, Yoko, but I suppose I appreciate this,” she says, not looking directly at the vampire. “But I’m not going to thank you. Not yet.”
“Good to know there’s still a chance,” replies Yoko. “I’ll be back, and you’ll be packing up in no time. I’ve mended far worse for far little at stake. This is like Christmas to me.”
“Happy holidays to you, then.” Wednesday pauses. “Or however the saying goes. I don’t find holidays happy.”
Yoko gives her two thumbs up and starts inching out the door. “When I get back, you’ll practically be Enid’s wifey.”
Obsidian eyes settle upon Yoko with such intent. A pale pink upper lip curls into a snarl and a freckled nose scrunches.
“I warned you not to mention that, because it’s simply not true.”
“And I’m not,” she promises the morose goth. “I just know how this story is gonna go, and I really like the ending.”
The door squeaks shut, and then Wednesday is all alone in the room. She looks at the empty bed and wonders what kind of heinous activities have taken place on it. Regardless of unnoticeable stains or smells she cannot pick up with her human nose, she plops down onto the mattress with a defining creak.
“Still far less disgusting than Enid and Ajax,” she mutters, leaning against the pillow and grabbing her book from her backpack. “At least Divina doesn’t have snakes for brains.”
She reads a chapter or two, up until the moment when the words all start to begin with an “E” and “Sinclair” is printed every other line. She blinks a few times and jerks the book off her lap, throwing her head back against the metal of the old headboard.
It’s going to be a long afternoon full of woe.