Chapter Text
WEDNESDAY & ENID
Uncomfortable sunlight filled the room through the large window. Enid was bathed in opaque pink and yellow light, sitting on the edge of her bed with Wednesday knelt before her while wordlessly and diligently dabbing at the minor claw indentations on Enid’s wrists. She used an excessive amount of rubbing alcohol to sop up the trickles of blood, taking pity on Enid when she winced in pain.
“I don’t mean to hurt you,” were the first words out of Wednesday’s mouth. The cotton swab doused in antiseptic trembled as she swallowed and continued soaking up the blood. “I’m not like her. I may be toxic to society, but I would never intentionally hurt you. I’m only cleaning so it doesn’t get infected. I question what she has caked under her fingernails.”
Enid knew that. Wednesday had been so careful and gentle with her, a far cry from who she’d been out in the field just fifteen minutes ago. There was no hostility, no anger unless that residual emotion towards Esther counted. But with Enid—for Enid—there was almost nothing.
Wednesday was practically nonverbal, entirely focused on her task of cleaning Enid up and restoring her skin back to the way it was; untouched, clean, and painless. Her fingers carefully and attentively worked around the insignificant puncture wounds until they began to scab over a bit. She placed a pink Hello Kitty bandaid over them, because of course that would make Enid feel a little better about the situation. Wednesday had offered a plain beige one, to which Enid had frowned about, so like the pushover she was, Wednesday opted for the hideous bandage, even if just to make Enid feel as though something was going her way.
While Wednesday was putting her first aid kit away in her trunk, Enid held her wrist in her other hand. It was still a little sore, a dull reminder that her mother was not at all fond of her or the choices she made for herself. Sometimes she longed to be an ignorant child again, when she could not be easily compared to her brothers and was treated as an equal. That was before their hormones set them apart and Enid could have been considered a runt. When she and Henry, being so close in age, were little, Esther didn’t view them much differently. They were only separated by 13 months and one week, and though it was abundantly clear that Enid hadn’t been planned, Esther saw her two youngest pups as more of twins than anything. And then they grew older and she wanted nothing to do with her youngest anymore, treating her like the reject of the litter.
That was all Enid was to anyone; a reject. Well, to anyone except Wednesday. Some days she had to rub her eyes and make sure she wasn’t dreaming when Wednesday showed her little acts of service and tended to her like she was made of glass. Enid certainly wasn’t made of glass, but sometimes she enjoyed feeling as such. It satiated her need for comfort and human contact, much like the way Morticia’s touch soothed her skin and mind. She concluded that, despite their spooky and indifferent nature, the Addams family had more love and attention to give than any of the Sinclairs. If the curse was a legitimate cause of Wednesday’s sudden amorous behavior, Enid wasn’t going to complain.
Unfortunately, thinking of how kind the Addamses were to her made her sorely think of how her own mother treated her. There was stark contrast in that, and it devastated her to know that she would never be accepted into her pack now that the truth was out for everyone to see. Esther had aired out their dirty laundry and made an absolute mockery of their clan. Enid was never going to recover from the whispers and grainy videos posted on social media.
“She embarrassed me,” she told Wednesday, dejected. It was the first time she spoke since they’d returned to their room. “Everyone is going to talk about this. I’m gonna be seen as a crybaby, and no one is going to show me any mercy when this gets posted everywhere for the world to see. My blog will mean nothing and all people will see from now on is a weak, pathetic wolf who can’t even take her own mom.”
Wednesday failed at trying not to frown at that statement. She moved, swiftly sitting next to Enid, though rigid and tense. There was nothing she could tell Enid to absolve her of that wounded, devastated feeling of vulnerability, and she felt much like a failure of a partner. She thought about Yoko and Divina and the way they expressed concern and comfort for one another during distressing moments. They were excessive huggers and kissers, and Yoko was a sweet talker with the exact amount of soothing Divina sought from her. Wednesday was not at all capable of that.
They were silent for awhile, save for Enid’s intermittent sniffling as she fought off another onset of tears. Wednesday was staring at her typewriter. It was getting dangerously close to her writing hour, and she might’ve had to delay or miss it entirely if Yearwood was adamant about her visiting her office by nightfall. She had approximately two hours to devise a plan for the remainder of her evening, but she had to decide what took priority; comforting Enid or fussing over a ruined evening that would derail her schedule.
“You are not a weak, pathetic wolf,” she evenly told Enid. Her eyes never moved from the typewriter. “Don’t you ever consider yourself to be either of those things, Enid.”
“I could have wolfed out on her,” Enid said as she rubbed her sweaty palms on her legs. Her wrist ached as the bandaid caught onto an annoying loose thread on her sweater. “I chose not to. I didn’t know if I could control myself if I did.”
“She is fortunate that the worst she got was a very shallow and minor cut to the outer ear when I could have aimed for more,” Wednesday replied with what sounded like a chuckle of amusement. She was certainly proud of herself. “She can leave here on her two or four legs rather than in the back of a hearse. If she believes in any sort of god, she should be praising it. But I am no believer, Enid. It had nothing to do with a higher power and more to do with the fact that I need to practice some self-control.”
“Is that your therapist talking?” Enid asked.
Wednesday went quiet, glaring at her typewriter. Enid smiled under the strain of the moment, shifting herself closer to Wednesday to seal that uncomfortable gap between their bodies.
“Perhaps she’s been an influence on me,” Wednesday bitterly said, eyes narrowed. “She’s so insistent; insistent that I’m doing well, that things are looking up for me, that maybe one day I’ll experience the excruciating feeling of being a normal person.”
One of Enid’s hands landed in Wednesday’s lap. She was offering Wednesday something, but Wednesday didn’t know what. She never knew what people wanted from her, even Enid, who was typically straightforward about her requests and demands to throw herself around Wednesday until they were essentially one body.
“You’re being cryptic again,” Wednesday told her, suddenly indignant.
Why were people so adamant about puzzling her? It wasn’t exactly fair. After speaking with that know-it-all, arrogant psychiatrist once or twice, she had come to the conclusion that body language and silent cues went over her head as one of many, many traits of autism. Her psychiatrist ensured to reiterate that not all autistic people looked the same and that their traits varied from person to person, being a broad spectrum and all.
Wednesday couldn’t fit herself into a box in that regard, and she hated it. If she had to be autistic, why couldn’t she have a uniform of traits alike everyone else who had been slapped with the same diagnosis? She didn’t quite understand the whole idea of a spectrum; she couldn’t fathom that it looked like a color wheel rather than a linear graph going from mild to severe like the flu or cholera. Instead it was a little bit of this and also a lot of that and sometimes this. She would have much rather had a graph and been placed on a singular bullet point than spinning on a color wheel. It should have been this-or-that, not some of this and some of that.
Her psychiatrist surely did this to her just to aggravate her, and now Enid was confusing her with her hands. They were limp, pastel fingernails raking over the cold flesh of Wednesday’s.
“I don’t understand.” Wednesday swallowed and wiggled her fingers. “What are you trying to tell me?”
“You totally don’t have to, but. . .could we do that thing you sometimes hate but also kinda enjoy when you’re in the mood?” Enid sheepishly asked, almost embarrassed to to propose such a thing.
It probably would have been less humiliating had she not sobbed in front of the student body. She didn’t want to request anything more that would have her perceived as a weakling, but this was Wednesday, not her mother or the other werewolves who saw her as a runt. She could show some vulnerability.
“I’m still not understanding the question,” Wednesday muttered, growing moderately impatient with Enid. She took a deep breath and held it for a moment before letting it go and looking up at Enid, focused on her scars. “The idiotic psychiatrist told me that one characteristic some autistic people possess is lack of understanding social cues and body language. I don’t understand what you’re trying to imply, and now I’m very frustrated.”
The sudden emotional maturity surprised Enid. Had any of this occurred a year ago, Wednesday would have thrown herself at the first lethal weapon available on her person and threatened Enid with it if she even dared present that emotionally frustrating way of speaking to her again because she couldn’t decide what those gestures meant and thinking about the myriad of possibilities gave her a brain freeze. But there she was, verbally expressing to Enid that she wasn’t understanding the wolf’s inscrutable motions.
“I was asking if you wanted to cuddle with me.”
Wednesday’s shifty eyes met hers for a moment before she glared at her lap and rested a cold palm over Enid’s. The pastel appendages wrapped around her fingers and squeezed, and it surprisingly felt nice.
“I only enjoy it at times because it is absolute emotional torture,” she mumbled.
Enid’s eyes were hopeful as she moved closer to Wednesday. “So is that a yes?”
For a moment, Wednesday hesitated. Yoko had taught her about compromising in a relationship and making sacrifices for the betterment of her future with Enid, but implementing that was difficult for her. She didn’t want to be seen as a person who could have easily been brought to her knees by big blue eyes and soft caresses.
But maybe, at times, she was that person.
“Yes, Enid,” she eventually said. “You may cuddle with me. However, do not put all your weight on me. I enjoy feeling suffocated, but your skin is warm as my heart is cold, and I don’t appreciate that you make me feel sweaty.”
“That’s okay,” Enid replied as she wiped a stray tear from her cheek, the last of them, she hoped. “Come on.”
Wednesday kept a watchful eye on Enid as the wolf sunk into the mountain of plush animals. Enid reclined back and rested her head on a stuffed cat, arms stretched out to Wednesday and her hands making a open-close motion, which was probably Enid-speak for “come here and hold me.”
“Allow me to take my shoes off,” Wednesday said, already untying her boots. “I don’t want Nevermore dirt on this hideously pink bedspread.”
She pulled her boots off her feet and deposited them next to Enid’s discarded shoes before climbing onto the bed and sitting on her knees for a moment, hands fidgeting in her lap. Enid tilted her head at her, much like a curious dog, and frowned.
“What’s wrong?” Enid asked inquisitively. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
Cuddling was something that they seldom partook in as a couple. It only happened by accident, sometimes when Wednesday was helping Enid with her hidden objects game, or whenever Enid trapped her there while trying to get her invested in a boring, brightly-colored film. For Enid to request it and give her the option to refuse was very odd, and she wondered what were to happen if she rejected it, but she didn’t exactly want to reject the offer. She also wondered what would happen if she enthusiastically said yes.
“I want to,” she eventually said. “But I’m not quite used to initiating the physical contact that leads to the absolute horrid thing that you call cuddling.”
“Well, I am,” Enid proudly declared as she took Wednesday from under her arms and brought her to her chest, depositing her tense and rigid body next to her like Wednesday was a sack of potatoes. “Just relax and lay next to me, okay?”
Wednesday was still sitting up, unsure of what came next. She surmised that Enid wanted their bodies pressed up against one another to combine their warmth and coolness.
Careful not to lose her balance and topple over onto Enid in what would have seemed like an unbecoming position, Wednesday lowered herself next to Enid and laid parallel to the werewolf’s hip. They faced each other, noses just an inch apart. Wednesday felt the body heat radiating off of Enid, and she placed a cold hand on Enid’s undulating abdomen to feel it a little more.
“See?” Enid positively hummed, shuffling closer to Wednesday. “It’s okay.”
An arm tossed itself over Wednesday and pulled her towards Enid’s chest. She turned her head so she was staring at a bright, sunny sweater rather than at Enid’s puppy eyes that won her heart every time.
“My mom isn’t going to let this go,” Enid suddenly said.
Wednesday’s entire body jolted in surprise. She wiggled a bit so she could look up at Enid, but she could only catch a glimpse of her chin because of the way Enid was burying her nose in dark braided hair.
“She’s going to have to,” replied Wednesday, mouth drying out quickly as she thought of Esther and her ugly pelt. “She can take my family for all the money we have and still lose. Once those videos release onto the internet and her hideous truth is exposed for the world to see, no one is going to fault me for what I did to her. A simple cut to the ear is nothing compared to what I was devising in my mind. Had I acted upon my genuine thoughts, she may have had a case. But she would have been six feet under by then, so it doesn’t exactly matter.”
A soft sigh left Enid as she brought Wednesday closer. Their legs were becoming tangled in each other, her arms limply moving on their own accord as she situated them more against the pillows. Wednesday’s eyes dared to droop shut as she rested her head on a warm shoulder and heard a thump-thump beat into her ear.
“She’s probably still gonna withdraw me.” Enid’s voice was tight with emotion. She cradled the back of Wednesday’s head and pressed a faint kiss between the braids. “I can’t lose you, Wednesday. And I’m so sorry.”
“What for?” Wednesday asked.
She pressed herself to Enid a little more, one leg between Enid’s and her face buried in the itchy fabric of the sweater. Enid’s thumb stroked a tentative trail down Wednesday’s middle part, earning a satisfied sigh from the seer.
“I know you know about the app I put on your phone without permission,” Enid quietly said. “I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have done that at all. I should’ve at least told you why I wanted to have it.”
If Wednesday were honest, she had forgotten about the tracking device, but since Enid was presenting it to her, she decided to be just a little miffed about it. Even if it wasn’t grounds for a breakup and now may have not been an appropriate time to discuss it, she figured it was alright if Enid was the one opening that conversation.
“Why did you put that thing on my useless cellphone?” Wednesday inquired, keeping her voice quiet and indifferent.
“Because.” Enid sounded like she was going to burst into tears. She held Wednesday tight, giving her gentle squeezes to distribute much needed pressure through her body. “I get really worried about you, after I almost lost you. And then, awhile after that happened, you went to go hunt your stalker down in the woods and didn’t come back for a long time. I never told you, but I had a really bad panic attack thinking it got you and was, like, kidnapping you somewhere. Once you did come back, I decided that I didn’t wanna go through that again, not knowing where you were. You don’t have a passcode on your phone, so I let myself in and installed it. I knew you’d be mad at me for it, so I didn’t tell you. It was totally selfish of me and I’m sorry. I’d understand if you want me to delete it.”
Judging by the way Enid’s shoulders shook and how she sniffled until her nose went raw, Wednesday knew that Enid was very remorseful about her actions. She sighed against Enid, closing her eyes and snuggling closer as the symptoms of the curse befell her again. They came and went at intermittent times, sometimes vanishing for days and reappearing at the most inconvenient moment. It seemed as though this was one of those moments, because she couldn’t find it in herself to be genuinely upset.
“I understand your reasoning,” she eventually decided to say. “You should have told me, yes, but I understand, and I don’t have it in me to be angry at you for this.”
Enid’s fingernails continued to drag along the middle part as she spoke. “I can delete it. I just worry about you. If it makes you feel any better, my mom pays for the subscription. Well, she doesn’t know that. But I pay for it on my own Apple account with the money she gives me for shopping. So she pays for it. Yeah?”
Wednesday couldn’t resist the smile pulling at her lips. She hid her grin in Enid’s chest and snuggled even further into her.
“You devil,” she chuckled. “Using your mother’s money to pay for a tracking device for the partner she absolutely hates. Perhaps you are an Addams.”
Whatever breath Enid had left in her lungs rushed out of her mouth. Wednesday was implying that she had potential to be an Addams, to be a part of her in that regard. She couldn’t hold anyone hostage, nor did she have a grenade collection, but maybe she could love as powerfully as an Addams, maybe she could learn to fence, maybe she could fit right in as their ball of sunshine amidst the dreary storm clouds.
“Well, she kinda deserves it,” said Enid, once she recovered from the shock. “But still, if you don’t want it, it’s okay. I’ll stop paying for it. I’ll just use my mom’s money to spoil you with the coffees and hot chocolates you like.”
Wednesday took a minute to think a little longer. Enid wasn’t doing any of this with intention to harm her. She was trying to keep her safe, and though Wednesday had already decided that she didn’t need a safety net to protect herself, she knew that Enid didn’t share the same views. Enid was showing love in the ways she knew how; protecting, safeguarding, showering Wednesday in love and slobbery kisses.
“You may keep it,” she concluded as she moved her head to take the pressure off her neck. “Because I see it works both ways and I have peace of mind knowing your clumsy feet haven’t fallen into a ditch.”
Enid giggled and left another kiss to Wednesday’s head. “I love you.”
“Mm,” Wednesday hummed as she inhaled the soft scent Enid carried with her. “The feeling is mutual.”
“I love you so much, you don’t even know,” Enid whispered, her fingers gliding through the messy hair slipping out of the braids. “I love to cuddle you. Even if you’re mean to everyone else and you pretend to be cold-hearted, you’re very cuddly and soft.”
Wednesday’s forehead angrily creased. “I am no such thing at all. I could stop anytime I want and be just fine.”
“Really?” the wolf asked, clearly being sly.
While Wednesday filled with mild panic, Enid teased as she worked Wednesday out of her arms and pretended to roll over onto her other side to ignore the sudden indignant expression on Wednesday’s face.
She anxiously began to fidget, watching Enid’s undulating abdomen. Enid was facing away from her, and Wednesday was unsure if she was upset or just being cheeky about it. She scooted a bit closer, moving an ugly unicorn out of the way, before attempting to take a peek at Enid.
For the first time since the night she and Enid argued and she was abandoned, she felt yearning. Enid wasn’t being at all responsive to her slight prodding and the dead stare she gave her. She was just breathing, chest rising and falling as she did so. There was no sign that she was going to turn back around and wrap Wednesday in her safe arms again.
It was all Wednesday’s fault. She had managed to make Enid, the cuddly werewolf, ignore her touch.
“I feel you breathing,” Enid said, startling Wednesday. “I’m only teasing you.”
The initial fear vanished as Enid laid on her back and beamed up at Wednesday. She grabbed the slender waist and pulled Wednesday down to her, nuzzling her warm nose into a cold neck. She kissed the exposed skin of Wednesday’s collarbone as her sweater gapped in the front, still cradling her the way she did when Wednesday was high and biting her.
Relief washed over Wednesday, the curse working its literal magic on her. She was being perfectly held and doted on in a way that didn’t make her want to retch. Enid knew what the right amount of love and physical affection was for Wednesday. Not too much, not too little.
“I have to speak with Yearwood later,” she reminded, mostly to herself. “She won’t expel me, I’m sure, but I’m also sure that my parents are either going in on yours or having a very tiresome discussion with her.”
“Don’t leave me,” Enid begged, hands tightening around Wednesday. “Please don’t let her make you switch rooms. I can’t control what my mom does to me, but please don’t leave. It’s bad enough my parents aren’t compatible and are divorcing. Plus, my brothers and I are super distant. You’re the only person I can really be close to like this. I love you.”
Wednesday laid a gentle kiss to the nape of Enid’s neck. “Don’t you worry about that. I’m quite convincing. Why don’t you have a nap?”
Enid paused her strokes against Wednesday’s back to think about it. She was certainly exhausted and could have gone for a brief snooze, but she was concerned that Wednesday wouldn’t be there when she awakened.
“Only if you take one with me,” she bargained. “I’ll set an alarm for an hour so you won’t be late to Yearwood’s office.”
Wednesday would have much rather stayed awake and kept watch of their room in case any unwanted visitors appeared, but she couldn’t resist those big eyes of Enid’s.
“Just an hour,” she quietly agreed. “I will set an alarm for you.”
Fishing her phone from her pocket, Wednesday opened the clock app, which was one of the very few she knew how to operate without wanting to throw the hideous thing out the window. She set the timer for a one-hour countdown and placed her phone on Enid’s bedside table, lowering her head onto Enid’s shoulder and breathing in quite deeply.
She felt a blanket draping over her body from the waist down and heard a faint click. When she opened one eye, she found the room darker than it was a second ago and a fuzzy, plain white blanket covering her lower half. A sigh of contentment left her as she nuzzled further into Enid.
“I love you, Enid,” she reminded, giving the wolf’s side a squeeze. “I will never allow her to harm you. Over my dead body will she ever touch you in that way. You are all mine, mí amor, and I will always protect what is mine.”
Enid added a bit more pressure to Wednesday’s waist as she brought her impossibly closer. She kissed her little nose and trailed her lips down to a definitive jawline, then up to kiss her lips. Wednesday returned it with acceptance before pulling away and sighing again, completely blissed as Enid assisted her in finding a comfortable position to lay with her.
The sun continued to descend and bring nightfall with it. Enid fell asleep first, arms securely wrapped around Wednesday like she was going to float away, and then Wednesday allowed herself to relax before drifting off.
She was going to have to mentally create a script that would work in her favor once she reached Yearwood’s office, but that could wait an hour. She wanted to be Enid’s—only hers, with no distractions—for just one hour.
—
WEDNESDAY
Enid slept right through the alarm they had set, as expected. Wednesday roused to it and turned it off, moving into a sitting position on her knees. The bed creaked as she slid off, and she rubbed her eyes to wake herself a little more. The sun was almost at a complete descent, still leaving little slivers of pink and orange beaming through the window. She had to hurry if she had any intention of returning in time for her writing hour, should the Sinclairs allow her to live past then.
As Wednesday was quietly lacing up her boots again, Enid made a soft whining noise in her slumber. Quickly springing to her feet—one shoe on, one shoe off—Wednesday sat at the edge of the bed and found Enid’s hand absentmindedly outstretching to her.
“Don’t leave,” she whined, growing more upset by the second when Wednesday wasn’t responsive to her. “Please?”
“We agreed on an hour,” said Wednesday, taking the offered hand and bringing it to her lips. “I have to see Yearwood in her office. I’ll return shortly, alright?”
Enid turned over like a petulant child and pouted at Wednesday, snuggling with the abandoned blanket that was left with a faint inky smell. She brought it to her face and dragged the corner fabric across her nose.
“I’ll see you in awhile,” Wednesday continued. “And you can sleep some more while I’m out. When you wake, I’ll be here.”
She left no room for argument or that whiny tone Enid used to play her like a cello as she left the bed and finished putting on her shoes. While Enid continued to pout and sniffle like an infant, Wednesday tutted at her and brushed the Enid evidence off her body. She picked a peculiar blonde hair from her shoulder and let it fall.
“Promise to be back?” Enid quietly asked.
Without hesitation, Wednesday said, “Of course. Get some sleep. I’ll see you soon.”
She left Enid there, making her exit as quiet and unassuming as possible so she wouldn’t cause her werewolf any more upset by making her departure an ordeal. Enid was sometimes like a puppy not yet housebroken; clingy, messy, needing to be accompanied at all hours. The only difference was that Wednesday need not worry about Enid urinating on their furniture.
The walk downstairs was far too long, even though she took the shortest route possible. She was halfway to the principal’s office, head craned down to watch the marble tiles disappear beneath her feet so she could count all 78 of them it took to get to Yearwood, when something bumped right into her shoulder and sent her stumbling back a foot or two.
She hissed with contempt. “Watch your footing, you treacherous—“
The moment she lifted her head, she found Yoko standing with her hands up in surrender. The vampire had taken off her sunglasses, as she was inside and the sun was going down, and her eyes turned a brief shade of gold as she put her fangs away. They both must have startled each other.
“Of course it’s you,” Wednesday deadpanned.
“Dude, I saw Enid’s mom about a half hour ago, and she looked majorly pissed after leaving Yearwood’s office,” she said, softly chuckling to herself. “You’ve got a real talent. I would’ve taken her whole ear off.”
“Perhaps I should have used your diluted archery skills in the moment,” Wednesday told her, making cursory eye contact. “I should have at least put her in the hospital for that. Instead she gets to walk away, satisfied with herself.”
Yoko shook her head. “Not worth being separated from Enid over. Besides, I don’t think Principal Yearwood was exactly on her side. She was red in the face when she let her parents out of her office.”
Wednesday’s ears perked up at that. She glanced up at Yoko, who was staring at her with that prideful smile she gave Enid whenever she told off one of her annoying pack members.
“Were you spying?” Wednesday inquired, suddenly interested.
“Is it really spying if Esther was yelling loud enough for me to hear from the hallway?” Yoko asked and raised an eyebrow. “My hearing is already amplified being a vampire, so she sounded like a bullhorn in my ear.”
Nodding, Wednesday sighed at her. “I suppose I should have my obligatory conversation with her now. I have doubts that I will escape this incident free of punishment, but as long as I’m not torn from Enid’s desperate arms, I will learn to accept my fate.”
“Yeah, I don’t think Yearwood is inclined to separate you over this, even if Esther loudly told her that you two are, quote-unquote, fornicating in your dorm,” Yoko laughed to herself. “Seriously, she is the most insufferable person I’ve met, and I know you, so that really says something about her.”
Wednesday stiffened as she inhaled sharply. “We aren’t doing anything of the sort. I’ll be sure that Yearwood is highly aware of that. But even if we were, that would not matter in this context, because there is zero way to prove it and I’m certainly not going to tell on myself.”
“You’ll have to plead your case,” Yoko told her, nudging her shoulder. “But you’re very smart. You always get what you want, and I know you’ll always protect Enid. You’re the best person for her.”
They shared a quick glance of eye contact before Wednesday returned to staring at the window just beyond Yoko’s shoulder. She fixated on it until the burnt orange light hurt her eyes too much, and then she looked back at Yoko.
“I am going to only say this once, so I hope your vampire ears are listening,” she finally said.
Yoko’s eyebrows raised. Wednesday swallowed the disgust she felt with the words about to leave her mouth.
“Thank you,” she quickly told Yoko. “For tossing me the bow and arrow. I didn’t even have to ask for it. You simply knew.”
Yoko grabbed onto the nearest wall and propped herself up, pretending to be dizzy as she staggered on her feet. Wednesday rolled her eyes and sighed to herself.
“Enough exaggeration,” she demanded. “Take the win and shove it.”
Yoko’s fangs shimmered as she smiled and stood up straight. “I got a thank-you from Nevermore’s resident heartless bitch! I’m so gonna rub this all in Bianca’s face!”
Wednesday began to retreat from Yoko, who was still celebrating by jumping up and down like a toddler. The only time, besides this one, Wednesday ever saw Yoko so happy was when she was with Divina.
“Enough!” she shouted at the vampire, who suddenly stopped and almost hit the floor. “Stop drawing attention to us. I feel the eyes of the others searing into my skull.”
“Well, you did shoot an arrow at Enid’s mom in front of everyone,” Yoko kindly pointed out, shrugging. “But I would’ve done the same thing for Divina. Her parents just pretend I don’t exist. But if they did try to pull that shit. . .”
She bared her fangs and hissed. Wednesday immediately understood; anyone who messed with Divina or interfered with their relationship would be immediately placed on a bloodsucker’s hit list.
The sun completely set, darkening the hallway where they stood. Wednesday knew that the day was drawing to a close and she needed to have her side of the story heard before nightfall.
She cleared her throat. “As much as I would love to exchange methods of torture with you, I have to see Yearwood now.”
“Fine,” Yoko said, then paused. “You did good. Enid is lucky to have you. And if Yearwood tries to expel you or you have to switch rooms, I’ll be the first to start a protest. And if Esther tries to withdraw Enid and uproot her life, well. . .I think we both have a few tricks up our sleeves to handle that.”
Noting the wink Yoko gave her before she bounced up the stairs, Wednesday exhaled and composed herself before turning back the way she had been going before being interrupted. She pondered Yoko’s offer while counting the remainder of the tiles until she reached 78 and stood before the large door to the office.
The heavy door was slightly ajar, a known sign that anyone was welcome to enter, so Wednesday did, first peeking around the edge and hearing the fireplace crackle. It fondly reminded her of when she would be apprehended by Weems late at night after one of her escapades in the woods or the county morgue. Weems would yell at her until Wednesday was satisfied with herself, and then the late woman would simmer down and tell Wednesday just how much trouble she would be in if she ever did anything like that again. And it still happened; again and again and again. And Weems refused to expel her, until that one time. That was the last she had seen of Weems in her natural state of being, and if she thought about it long enough, tears welled up in her eyes.
Weems wouldn’t have expelled her for her stunt today, but Yearwood might. She didn’t want to find out, but she was already slithering into the office and closing the door behind herself.
Inaudibly sniffling, she raised her head to find Yearwood at her desk as she spoke to two people sitting in the chairs before her. The entire room was aglow with firelight and a yellow lamp in the corner of the room. It was warm, but not as warm as when Weems was there.
“There you are, Miss Addams,” Yearwood pleasantly announced, surprised that the wayward girl even turned up at all. “We were just discussing you.”
The two people were, in fact, her parents. They turned to look at her with pity in their eyes. That wasn’t at all comforting, and Wednesday nearly tripped as she walked forward. Pugsley and Thing were noticeably absent.
“I hope it was all terrible things,” she told her principal. “I’m only here because I feel as though I need to argue my side of the story.”
“I saw your side of the story, Miss Addams,” Yearwood said as she turned her laptop around so Wednesday could see. “Unfortunately, the incident has been immortalized.”
She clicked a button and a video played. Whoever filmed it must have been behind Yoko, because Wednesday could make out the purple streaks in her hair. Wednesday’s heart dropped to her feet as she watched herself release the arrow and slice a piece of Esther’s ear off.
For a moment, she was mortified, and then she was enraged.
“Whoever posted that for the world to see must delete it, now,” she growled. “Who was it? I’ll find them and eviscerate them the way I should have done Esther Sinclair. They will not get away with tarnishing Enid’s reputation and humiliating her for the world to take stock of and make a mockery of her!”
Morticia sighed at Yearwood before looking at her trembling daughter. Wednesday wouldn’t give her the time of day, already reaching for the laptop so she could see if there was a name attached to the video. Gomez was quick to push it away, taking his daughter’s wrist and giving her forearm a squeeze. Wednesday sharply inhaled, suddenly overcome with a soothing comfort, but she refused to tell him that he won that battle as she wiggled her way from his touch.
“It was posted to a TikTok account,” Yearwood said, grabbing her laptop so Wednesday wouldn’t destroy it. “That vampire Yoko is a smart one; she found it and helped me figure out how to save it to my laptop. No one has come forward about it yet, and I don’t think they will, but I’m trying to find identifying information from the account. Yoko doesn’t know who it was because there were too many people around her that could’ve done it. Everyone has a cellphone and a TikTok at this point.”
Wednesday despised the fact that Yoko was helping her so much. She would be forced to thank her later, after this was all over. Maybe she shouldn’t have bitten her that night.
“Enid didn’t do anything wrong,” she immediately told Yearwood. “She has been abused by her mother her entire life. A bout of anger overcame me when I saw Esther attacking her. I felt disoriented, and I took the bow and arrow Yoko had and did what I did. I have absolutely no remorse for it, and you can separate us, but I will not stop pushing back against the unjust way Enid has been treated.”
Yearwood nodded. “I see you’ve given it some thought. You don’t have to be remorseful, because I know how you are and I understand the extreme distress the moment caused you. You’re not without a punishment, though.”
Wednesday didn’t care about a punishment, unless that punishment was her having to room with anyone else. Even Yoko would have been intolerable for her.
“What is my punishment?” she inquired. “Moreover, what is Mrs. Sinclair’s punishment? She abused her child on campus grounds. It was recorded and posted for everyone to spectate. I think she should suffer repercussions if I have to, don’t you think?”
“I had a lengthy discussion with her prior to your parents,” Yearwood assured. “She was adamant about pressing charges against you and your family for the incident, but her husband was able to calm her a bit, and she began to rationalize when she had an epiphany. She quickly realized how prestigious your family’s bloodline is and how much money you could have used to fight her in any sort of court, outcast or not. It would’ve cost her a fortune to get a good lawyer and battle yours.”
“She would have won and we would have settled,” Wednesday immediately deadpanned, placing her arms behind her back. “She missed out on a lot of money. What a fool.”
“Regardless, she isn’t going to press charges as of now,” the principal reiterated, sighing and shaking her head. “And not to worry; she is banned from the campus and cannot be within a hundred feet of the property. The school board contacted me as soon as the video released, and they decided that repercussion for her. They put a temporary freeze on any withdrawals made for the remainder of the semester, even at a costly expense if anyone were to try to challenge it. It will be lifted in January, and you can only hope that the Sinclairs have sorted their minds by then.”
“She has to return home with them for fall and winter breaks until then,” Wednesday reminded, fidgeting with her spider ring. She was going to be sick all over the nice area rug. “They could easily not bring her back.”
“I should not be giving you any of this information, Miss Addams, but Mrs. Sinclair made it very clear to me that she ultimately wanted to withdraw Enid, but Mr. Sinclair convinced her that it wasn’t wise, and when she found out that the school board froze the option to withdraw students, she decided that Enid was going to have to spend her fall break here, because she wasn’t going to allow her back in their home,” she replied with a sympathetic sigh. “Her parents are currently emotionally and financially separated. Mr. Sinclair will pay for Enid’s tuition to keep her here until the entire home situation can either resolve itself with time or until he will move Enid into his own home once that’s settled. He has decided that, even if he doesn’t agree with his wife’s choice, it’s not safe to bring Enid home for the break. He will pay her a visit then so she doesn’t feel abandoned.”
Wednesday viewed Enid’s father as a weak man for allowing the abuse to continue for so long, but she was pleasantly surprised to know that he had already devised a plan for Enid’s future. He had managed to salvage what was left of Enid’s life, and for that, Wednesday had to commend him, but she would never admit that aloud.
“This is a pathetic attempt at rectifying his willful ignorance to the abuse,” Wednesday finally said. “I’m very impressed.”
“Please do not inform Enid of any of this,” Principal Yearwood softly demanded. “I will have my own meeting with her either after your departure or in the morning. She’s also mandated to visit Ms. Sable tomorrow. I will handle this. And I know you will protest and insist that it’s best it comes from you to soften the blow, but I still have to follow procedure. I’m breaking a very important policy by divulging this to you and your parents.”
Nodding, Wednesday moved onto her most pressing question. “Are you forcing me to change dorms?”
“I must admit that I strongly considered it by policy alone.”
Wednesday visibly tensed. Yearwood held up a hand at her before the young girl could start pitching a fit.
“But I decided against it, because as much as I’m aware that I’m breaking yet another policy by allowing two known partners to room together, I’m making an exception because of what I’ve seen today,” she said. “You’d do anything for Enid, and I think the rooming situation has worked out thus far. You seem to have been together for a bit and I haven’t been any wiser to it, so you don’t seem to be causing any. . .disturbances.”
Wednesday squinted and folded her arms over her chest. “I know what you are alluding to. We are not doing anything of that sort.”
Yearwood nodded. “However, if there are any spats out of you—with your peers or any of the faculty or the normies in town—for the remainder of the semester, you will be forced to change rooms come January, regardless of how the situation or relationship is going for you. I don’t want that for Enid, so I suggest you don’t blow this, Wednesday.”
Yet another ultimatum. Wednesday was about to burst at the seams.
“What is my punishment?” she rigidly asked.
“That is your punishment, Miss Addams,” she told her, that sly smile on her lips. “Don’t ruin this for yourself or for Enid. You’re much better than that, aren’t you?”
A heavy huff left Wednesday as her nostrils angrily flared. She wanted to throw herself over the desk and wrap her hands around the woman’s neck, but that wouldn’t have benefited Enid. She had to remain calm for her.
“Fine,” she begrudgingly agreed, turning to face her parents. “Now that this sorted on our part, I suppose you will be heading off to your accommodation?”
Morticia took Gomez’s hand and fondly squeezed it. Wednesday waited with urgency, tapping her foot. She had to return to Enid and shower her with love to quench the thirst the curse left inside of her.
“We will be leaving soon, yes,” Morticia said. “We’ll return tomorrow morning, to see you and Enid. I think you both need to have some time to unwind and process the day’s events.”
Wednesday had to agree. Enid needed time to rest and recharge her batteries, and she could only do that with some decent sleep and Wednesday’s attentive hands stroking her hair as she dozed off.
“I have to return to my—our room,” she quickly told them. “Enid is sleeping, but I promised I would be there when she wakes up.”
Gomez grinned. “You are such a good partner to her. She is so fortunate.”
“No,” Wednesday disagreed, shaking her head. “I am fortunate to have her. She is kind and patient and very loving. It’s a shame that her strengths have come from 16 years of mistreatment. What I did today, no matter how terrible it seemed, was deserved. I have no regret.”
“A perfect couple,” Morticia wistfully sighed to herself. “You were made for one another.”
As Wednesday prepared to leave the office with her inconceivable punishment, she paused and gave her parents a precarious look. Suddenly, under the firelight, she seemed to have softened.
“Mother, Father,” she addressed. “Have the guest bedroom prepared and turned down before leaving home at fall break. I’m bringing along a very special person. She doesn’t know it yet, but she’s going to feel very comfortable, very soon.”
With that, she brushed past them and intended to slip out of the room, but Yearwood’s voice called out to her.
“Behave yourself, Miss Addams,” she warned. “Do not ruin this.”
After a few deep breaths, Wednesday continued on and made herself unassuming as she left the room. She shuddered as the sudden change in room temperature washed over her.
Yearwood was good at keeping her in line, but she still was nowhere near as good about it as Weems was. She should have really worked on that before trying to trap Wednesday in a well-mannered box. Now Wednesday was determined to be as insufferable as she could without having herself removed from Enid. She did love a good challenge. Weems would have been proud—and utterly exhausted.
—
WEDNESDAY, ENID, & THE NIGHTSHADES
Adjusting to her new reality was uncomfortable for Enid. Her mother never texted or called her anymore; not after the final hateful messages she left the night of the incident. Her father checked in on her at least once every other day and continued to deposit money into her student banking account, but there was very little to be said between them as they both attempted to fine-tune their lives on opposite ends of the country.
Conversations with her peers were still very awkward, though after two weeks, the chaos and novelty had already gone dry. Nobody was pointing and laughing anymore, and those who did were immediately deterred by Wednesday, who took to growling at everyone, insisting that they would go away if they thought she was rabid. It was her way of manifesting her anger issues into something besides murder so Yearwood had no reason to forcibly remove her from their dorm.
It had been two weeks and six days since the incident, as the entirety of Nevermore referred to it, and Wednesday and Enid were just two days shy of packing up their important belongings—so Wednesday’s typewriter and cello, and Enid’s laptop and cellphone—and leaving for New Jersey for an entire week.
Of course, being that it was the final weekend before a lengthy absence from Nevermore, away from outcast normalcy, Yoko just had to throw one last party despite swearing up and down that the previous one that left Wednesday high as a kite was going to be her absolute last. No one had actually believed that.
Wednesday only attended because she considered it at do-over from the last disaster of a party. That, and she wanted to keep Enid company, because the werewolf was absolutely thrilled to have an excuse to drink the apprehension away before reality was due to sink in on Sunday morning.
Enid was going to be in New Jersey in just two days, with Wednesday’s eccentric family, far from hers. The Addamses didn’t celebrate Thanksgiving as the Sinclairs did, so it was definitely a change of pace, but Morticia had promised to make Enid feel as comfortable as possible, even if it meant allowing just splash of color into her dreary home. As a consolation prize for the inconvenience, Enid offered up one of her less desirable pink plushies for Pugsley to mutilate with a hatchet. He had declined, but that wasn’t going to stop her from bringing it anyway.
She had to force herself to stop thinking about it for just one minute so she could enjoy the party that was held in the same house as the previous one, except there were more people this time. Wednesday visibly tensed at the noise level progressively rising every time another person filed in through the front door. Nevermore students, especially the werewolves, were known for their obnoxious volume and grating voices. They couldn’t exist that way in public spaces, and therefore compensated by being as rowdy as possible in private.
Yoko was still bartending in the kitchen, minding Divina, who was sitting on the counter beside her with a brownie in her hand. Enid rolled her eyes at the sight of the evidence of a former pot brownie smeared over Divina’s lips. That clearly was her second one in the making and she still exhibited very little sign of intoxication.
“Brownies again?” Enid nervously asked Yoko, watching Wednesday take stock of the plethora of junk food sitting on the dusty kitchen table. “Do we really want a reenactment of last time?”
Pointing over her shoulder while mixing up a margarita, Yoko said, “Ajax for sure labeled them. All safe. And he got the funny ones from a reputable pothead baker in Burlington rather than some stoner living in his mom’s basement, so I think they should be a lot better.”
Divina’s mouth was full and her hands were sticky with chocolate. She shoveled the rest of the brownie in and tried to chew without choking on it. Yoko was prepared to give her the Heimlich if needed, but she didn’t anticipate it going that far. She kept a watchful eye on Divina while Wednesday prowled around the kitchen like a cat stalking prey.
“Your wine is on top of the fridge, Addams,” Yoko threw over her shoulder as she helped a messy Divina down off the counter and handed her the margarita she had just doctored up. “Take this to Bianca?”
All too happy to help, Divina rushed out of the kitchen, the cherry red slush sloshing over the rim of the solo cup. She dripped a trail across the nice carpet on her way to Bianca, leaving Yoko banging her head against the fridge.
Wednesday idled nearby while Enid took a brownie off the tray labeled “unfunny brownies.” She shuffled closer to the vampire, eyes locked on the wine bottle sitting atop the fridge. She was far too short to reach it without a chair or someone lifting her over their head.
“If you’re done giving yourself brain damage, I would like to have a glass,” she finally said.
Yoko startled and opened her eyes. She had forgotten that Wednesday was even there at all.
“I didn’t bring glasses, so you’ll have to drink it from a cup like an alcoholic mom,” Yoko said as she reached for the bottle with ease and popped it open. “Easy this time. Remember how you ended up last time we did this.”
Wednesday growled and watched Yoko pour enough wine to fill half the cup before handing it off to her. She lifted it to her lips and took a few sips, turning around and bumping into Enid, who had put a fresh unfunny brownie on a napkin for her.
“This one is safe,” she told Wednesday, placing it into her hand and finishing off the last of hers. “Dark chocolate. Your favorite.”
Giving the brownie a tentative sniff, Wednesday decided that it would suffice. She didn’t care for the copious amounts of sugar dumped into the batter, being that it would certainly keep her awake tonight, but she came to the conclusion that consuming such things was expected at a party. It was socially acceptable to gorge until she felt sick.
“I’m going to get another,” Enid told her, kissing one of Wednesday’s dimples as she moved to grab another brownie from the unfunny tray. She carefully placed her hand against Wednesday’s back, startling the girl. “Woah, it’s okay.”
Wednesday made a discontented sound. Everything was so loud around her and people were trying to talk over the music thumping in the background. The air was warmer than she would have cared for, and something smelled like mildew.
Enid leaned into her ear. “You’re getting overstimulated. Wanna go outside for a minute? I can go with you.”
She contemplated the offer for half a second before quickly nodding and tucking her cup and brownie to her chest like they were her children. Enid’s fingernails dragged over Wednesday’s back in a soothing motion as she looked up at Yoko, who was about three more drinks in.
“We’ll be outside,” she announced, already maneuvering Wednesday out of the kitchen.
“I’ll be here for the rest of my life,” Yoko replied, still fixated on her task.
Enid had to squeeze her way through people who smelled like weed and various cheap body sprays and colognes to get to the front door. Wednesday was close behind her, practically glued to her back as she fought her way through without spilling her drink or losing her brownie that was growing warm in her too-cold hand.
The front door was already open, inviting them outside onto the porch. Enid closed it until it was only ajar, then moved to lean up against the porch railing. Wednesday surveyed her surroundings and decided that sitting on the dilapidated steps was the best option given her full hands. She was careful not to get a rusted nail to the butt cheek as she got comfortable and bit into her brownie in between sips of wine.
It was unreasonably cold for Enid that night, growing closer to the end of November as the holidays approached. Wednesday wore her favorite sweater topped off with her puffy vest that seemed like it didn’t help very much of anything, and Enid was as bundled up as she could be without having a heat stroke inside.
“Are you going to stand there and ogle me like a raw steak, or are you going to join me?” Wednesday suddenly asked, now halfway through her brownie. “Your staring is making me severely uncomfortable. I cannot tell if you’re admiring or judging.”
Enid pushed herself off the railing and walked to the steps before dusting off a relatively clean spot and sitting down. The wood felt wet and like it was one more pound of strain away from caving in. She sat tense and still, hardly wanting to even move her head.
“Admiring, of course,” she softly replied, then rubbed her eyes as a drowsy sensation overcame her. “I’d never judge you. You are perfect to me.”
“I could say the same for you,” Wednesday said, cleaning her messy hands with the paper napkin after she shoved the last morsel into her mouth with greed. “We need to finish packing tomorrow. My parents will be here early on Sunday to retrieve us and Thing.”
Enid nervously nodded. “I know. You’ve got a whole itinerary planned for us. You’re really organized because I’m not. I just kinda wait to see what the day does for me.”
“I can almost hear your heart racing,” Wednesday pointed out as she sipped at her wine. “Are you apprehensive about visiting my home?”
Though it was probably blatantly obvious, Enid didn’t want to tell Wednesday to read the room, because it might’ve upset her. She didn’t want to discuss it at all; her method of getting through life was to wait until she had no choice but to follow through with something and hope it didn’t backfire in her face. There was doubt that anything could or would backfire at the Addams manor in New Jersey, but she only knew half of them and none of what their home actually looked like beyond Wednesday’s vague description of cobwebs and weapons.
“Kinda,” she said, shrugging, and then she yawned. “I mean, I’m also excited and very grateful that you invited me and your parents are fine with it. But this isn’t what I normally do, and it just hurts that my family basically abandoned me and left the burden of me onto you.”
Wednesday angrily crumpled the napkin, and the floorboards creaked as she moved to face Enid. She was making intense eye contact, dark eyes shimmering in the moonlight.
“Never say that you are a burden,” she demanded, though quite softly for her demeanor. “I know that your father loves you, and once he’s able to completely pry himself from that woman you call a mother, you’ll have the option to build a relationship with him again. But in the meantime and onwards, for the rest of your life, my family has invited you to be part of us. You may feel like only a guest passing through, but you are not. You may come and go as we grow older, but you will always have a permanent place there. I’ve made sure of it.”
Enid hadn’t had a sip of alcohol yet, and somehow she was being moved to tears. There was a fuzzy feeling in her head, almost like she could hear electricity buzzing. Her eyes felt heavy and sleepy as a tired sensation befell her body.
Wednesday accepted her. Wednesday adored her. Wednesday loved her. And by god, did it hurt.
“I love you, Wednesday,” she sniffled and messily wiped her nose with her sleeve. “I love you so much, I can’t even describe it.”
Wednesday almost—just almost—smiled. “I love you, too. More than you could ever imagine.”
They sat in comfortable silence for awhile, listening to the wind whistle and the other outcasts mingle and laugh inside. Enid continued to grow somewhat drowsy but remained awake, finding her way closer to Wednesday by instinct alone, finally sealing that uncomfortably large gap between them.
A cold nose suddenly nuzzled against Enid’s shoulder. Wednesday was leaned into her, trying to bury herself into Enid’s chest as if trying to meld their bodies into one being. Enid gasped a bit and attempted to wiggle away from her so they wouldn’t knock their heads together, but Wednesday continued to seek the comfort she needed from her partner.
“Wednesday,” Enid said, moving her extra brownie out of the way so Wednesday wouldn’t squish it. “Hey, what are you trying to do? Are you cold?”
“You smell very nice,” Wednesday hummed, words slightly slurred.
Enid sharply inhaled and pulled Wednesday into her lap, balancing her entire weight on just her knees. She held Wednesday’s hands to her chest and warmed them with her own, trying to diagnose whatever condition Wednesday was suffering. Perhaps it was a symptom of the curse catching up to her, but Enid wasn’t entirely certain.
“You alright?” Enid worriedly asked, trying to hold her up as her head bobbled a little. “You don’t look so good.”
Wednesday didn’t protest the physical contact or resist the idea of sitting in Enid’s lap, which was a bit concerning to Enid. On any other day, Wednesday would have flung herself off and demanded Enid not do that ever again. But there she was, seemingly enjoying the touch as she leaned forward, losing her balance, and rested her head on Enid’s shoulder. She practically cooed with happiness as she curled herself around Enid.
“My wolf,” Wednesday softly murmured, breath tickling the skin of Enid’s neck. “You smell very nice, and I’m very hungry.”
Enid gasped, but not loud enough to scare Wednesday. She helped Wednesday sit up again, supporting her entire body weight in her lap, and ran a finger over her cheek that was slowly turning pink. Wednesday’s sleepy eyes opened, and her pupils were dilated to the size of saucers. She tilted her head at Enid, perplexed by the strange look she was giving her, before resuming her original position with her head on her shoulder.
“Dammit, Ajax,” Enid grumbled to herself.
Wednesday’s nimble fingers grazed over the exposed skin of Enid’s neck before tugging the annoyingly colorful jacket out of the way so she could get a better inhale. Her lips lazily caught onto a random patch of skin and mouthed at it, not quite sucking but not quite biting, either.
“You want to bite, don’t you?” asked Enid.
The only response she received was that of warm saliva mouthing at her again, as if asking for permission. She situated herself a little better so Wednesday wasn’t hanging off her like a yo-yo, sighing when Wednesday immediately growled at the loss of contact before fixing her lips back onto the skin.
“Fine,” Enid gave in. “Just this once.”
Wednesday’s teeth sunk into the flesh, latching on for awhile. Enid winced but continued to hold Wednesday tightly against her as if she would blow away with the autumn wind. She let Wednesday have her fun with decorating her otherwise unblemished skin with teeth marks until she felt the girl go completely limp in her arms and those same teeth release her.
When Enid adjusted a very floppy and weak Wednesday, she found her fast asleep against her chest, and she snuggled her for warmth. She left tiny kisses around Wednesday’s hairline, careful not to wake her, though she figured that might’ve been impossible given the circumstances.
She held Wednesday for quite some time, even as her muscles strained to keep herself awake and alert. Wednesday slept soundly, clearly very proud of herself for leaving yet another bite mark on her partner.
Despite the slight pain around her collarbone, Enid couldn’t find it in herself to be even mildly annoyed at Wednesday for her biting tendencies. All she could do was lean down and press a little kiss to a cold nose before rocking side to side with a very sleepy Wednesday in her lap.
Against all better judgment, she picked up her forgotten brownie and took a bite out of it, even if there might’ve been some consequences to follow later. That was later, and this was now, and she was perfectly content with holding her intoxicated girlfriend in one hand and a pot brownie in the other.
She definitely owed Yoko and Ajax a thank-you.