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Best friend or not, Wednesday was a strange person. Enid could admit to that. Actually, she was more than happy to admit to that, as she had recently walked into her room slightly later than usual and stepped on a pile of rabbit bones stacked in the doorway. It wouldn’t have been a big problem, if Wednesday hadn’t been in the middle of stripping fur and flesh from said bones, leaving chunks of -
Okay. Enid didn’t want to think about that anymore. The mere thought always led to some unpleasant dry-heaving.
Yes, Wednesday was a strange person, and Enid didn’t know why she did half of the things she did, nor did she want to know. But lately, she’d been acting even stranger. Firstly, she was always gone in the morning when Enid woke up, and returned just before Enid was about to leave, fully clothed and ready to go. She must have been getting up before the sun to get ready. But she hadn’t done that before.
Secondly, she wouldn’t look Enid in the eye. That wasn’t a strange thing on the surface, Wednesday either stared at people intensely until they looked away, or avoided eye contact altogether. It was even written in the file Enid and Wednesday had obtained (in other words, stolen) at the beginning of the semester about themselves. A few spaces under Wednesday’s name, as her very long list of supposed behavioral issues was started, the first line on it was, “severe eye contact problems.” Why that was a problem was beyond either of them.
And lastly, she was quieter. Yes, okay, she was an eerily silent person in general, but this was a different kind of quiet. Almost like she was… unsure of herself. Like she was considering every move she had in her mind, over and over and over again. Enid knew the feeling. But, no, it was Wednesday. The most weirdly confident person Enid had met. So that couldn’t be right.
Right?
Case in point, Wednesday was already sitting on the edge of her bed when Enid arrived at their room, even though it was early. Her hair, though still in braids, was wet, meaning she had either showered or been thrown into a pond again by someone trying to murder her. Likely the former, though the latter situation had happened twice that semester already.
“Hey, Wednesday,” Enid flashed her a grin and put her things away. Wednesday gave her a slow nod, not tearing her gaze away from the wall. Thing was perched beside her, one of his fingers brushing against the girl’s. It was a gesture of comfort. Wednesday didn’t move her hand. “Did something happen?” Enid crossed to the much darker half of the room, only half fearing for her life. Wednesday had never actually threatened her at knifepoint or anything before, but when your roommate happened to keep two dehydrated tarantula corpses in her drawer, you generally developed a healthy respect for her space.
“No,” Wednesday said, her gaze briefly flitting up to meet Enid’s, then focusing back on the wall. Her hands were clasped in her lap, her nails pressing against her pale skin. Enid waited. “I still have no usable leads on the identity of the stalker. I spoke with Eugene this morning, he could not discern a specific location other than the area, which we already know.”
“Oh.” Okay, so they were jumping straight into creepy business. Enid didn’t know what she’d been expecting. “You’ll figure it out. I mean, you’ve already fought him, her, them? Off twice”
“Yes,” Wednesday rose from her bed and strode across the room, sitting at her desk instead. Enid saw the hint of a scratch across the side of her neck, dipping down near her shoulder, which was covered effectively by the dress she was wearing.
“Where’d you get the scratch?”
“What?” Wednesday turned around.
“Come here,” she said. To Enid’s surprise, Wednesday walked back over and returned to where she had been sitting. Enid reached out a hand, “can I…?” She was met with the slightest dip of her friend’s head. Slowly, she reached out again, her fingertips gripping onto the edge of the fabric on Wednesday’s shoulder and pulling it down ever so slightly.
She and Wednesday had gotten used to basic forms of physical contact since the Crackstone incident. A hand resting on a shoulder was comforting when Enid was worried about a test or Wednesday was worried about the stalker. A gentle bump of their fists sent pride surging through them both as Enid ran faster than any of the boys when she played soccer for fun on Sunday’s. And, most of all, fingers brushing hair back from the other’s face served as a good check, for injuries or fever or anything wrong in general. Something about it compelled them, at least, to be a little more open with each other.
This was new, though. That little breath Wednesday took in as Enid’s fingers touched her collarbone. The scratch was narrow, but long, going past where Enid was comfortable checking. It had clearly been caused by a quick swipe from someone who didn’t know what they were doing when it came to fighting. Enid, who had grown up with four brothers, definitely knew the skill level behind different types of shallow wounds. “What happened?”
“Nothing happened,” Wednesday moved back and Enid’s hand fell to her side.
“Someone did that. That’s not okay,” Enid tried to keep the concern out of her voice. She knew Wednesday could hold her own, probably better than anyone else in the school. She had proved it multiple times last year, surviving situations that other people would’ve died in immediately. But still, the thought of someone hurting her made Enid’s heart clench. That protectiveness that surged inside of her was the biggest drive now when it came to wolfing out.
“I found myself in a fight with three boys earlier today after they made some… comments, about my appearance and particular things they would have liked to do based off of it,” Wednesday’s voice was as blank as ever as she spoke. But her fingernails pressed even deeper into her skin.
Enid reached out and took one hand in each of hers with still as minimal direct contact as possible, “I bet you showed them.”
“They will not be back in class for three weeks.”
“That’s my girl!” Enid laughed, Wednesday tilting her head in response, “anyway, is everything alright in general? You’ve been off lately.”
“Everything is fine. Are you alright?” Wednesday asked.
“Me?”
“Yes. You seem uneasy when I am close,” Wednesday’s tone grew slightly deeper, and she stared at her feet. She was kicking her legs, which always seemed to mirror her mind’s perpetual exhausting motion.
“Oh. Yeah, I’m fine,” Enid said, crossing back to her side to change into her pajamas. Wednesday lay back on her bed in response, looking like she was ready to sleep. Her eyes were closed. She hadn’t even changed into her black nightgown.
Part of Enid was happy about that. Seeing Wednesday in it made her brain go… strange, not-best-friend places. But the other part was worried. Wednesday hadn’t directly stated any problem that she had.
Maybe she hated Enid. Maybe she thought Enid was a handful. Or maybe… maybe she somehow knew, about the thoughts that raced through Enid’s head whenever they were close.
Enid mulled that over instead of sleeping.
Three days later, Wednesday was both the first and the last thing on Enid’s mind, as she stood in place behind the school, blinking back tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks. Ajax walked off in the distance, as carefree as ever. He hadn’t really minded, when she had told him. Though his eyes were slightly hurt, he’d been nothing but understanding, because Ajax was a good guy.
And she had loved his body. She couldn’t deny that. She had enjoyed the feeling of being in his arms, enjoyed the feeling of his lips against hers. She’d been excited, she’d dreamed about him for years. But feelings and dreams changed. And her love for him had changed. She still loves his body. But she had never really loved anything romantic with him, even though she had felt like she'd had to. She knew why, now.
But the last thing she wanted to do was admit it. Especially to herself. So that was what she had to do, she knew. She let out a low growl, her claws unsheathing. There was nothing back here to swipe at, nothing that wouldn’t get her sued for property damage as a sixteen year old, that was. She sheathed her claws again and let them hide from sight, leaning her head back against the building behind her.
“Bisexual,” she murmured to herself, “homoromantic bisexual.” The label, the truth, made a shiver run up her spine. She’d been researching sexualities for months, when she had realized that maybe, there was something slightly different about her than most people. Finally, she’d stumbled across those two particular words. And they made sense.
But they were terrifying.
She wrapped her arms around herself and started the ten-minute walk up to her room, replaying what had happened in her head. Ajax was okay with it. He was okay with it. She took a deep breath, then paused. But would Wednesday be?
Wednesday did not strike her as the homophobic type. More of the homophobe-stabber type, if she was truly being honest. But still. Maybe she wouldn’t want to share a room with a girl like Enid. Especially because of Enid’s feelings for her…
Oh, god, what if she had started being more distant because she had figured it out?!
Enid’s heart thumped in her chest and jumped to her throat. She swallowed once she was in front of the door to her room. Slowly, she turned the doorknob.
Wednesday was curled up on her bed, which was slightly abnormal. She usually lay straight as a board, claiming it to be a form of self-discipline, whatever that meant to her. Thing was perched on her desk, giving Enid a wave. She waved back, Wednesday lifting her head from her bed to look at her.
“Wednesday?” She whispered, her voice shaking. Wednesday pushed herself up completely. Enid rarely cried around her. She’d spent the entire break from Nevermore being berated by her mother for… having emotions, this time. That was a new one. Apparently she was only supposed to focus on finding a mate now, a boy from another werewolf family of good social standing.
Emphasis on boy, her mother had made sure to put, after Enid had talked about Wednesday one too many times over the break. So yeah, that had affected Enid emotionally to some extent. Wednesday never cried in front of Enid. One incident aside that had involved an ambulance and a gunshot wound, courtesy of the stalker, but that was a story for another day.
“What happened?” Wednesday moved from her bed and to her desk, a knife resting casually over the neatly sorted papers on said desk. She reached for it, Enid quickly reaching out a hand,
“No, no, Wednesday, it’s not that kind of situation,” she said quickly.
“Oh. So it’s emotional.”
Enid couldn’t help but giggle at the characteristic drop in her voice at the word emotional. For whatever reason, laughing made more tears spring to her eyes. She took a deep breath, looking around the room. She was safe. She let them drip down her face,
“I broke up with Ajax.”
“Hm,” was all Wednesday replied with. Her hand twitched toward the knife again.
“Nothing bad happened. He didn’t do anything. He’s lovely, actually, I just don’t really want a romantic relationship with him. Or… any guy, actually,” she wrapped her arms around herself, preparing for a potential stinging blow. She’d laid her soul bare for Wednesday to do whatever she pleased with it. Wednesday simply tilted her head. “I’m, uh. I’m homoromantic bisexual, I think,” Enid said, “I’ve been researching it a lot and it aligns with everything I’ve felt - and I understand if you want to switch rooms.”
“Why would I want to switch rooms?” Wednesday asked, putting a hand against Enid’s shoulder. Her touch was as cold and firm as ever, but to Enid it was the warmest touch in the world.
“Because, y’know, some people think it’s weird to be roommates with someone like me. Because you watch each other undress and all that stuff.”
“I do not care one way or another,” Wednesday paused for a moment, seeming to consider something, “actually… I thought you might. Since I am a lesbian.”
“Wait… what?!” Enid’s head snapped up and she looked in the direction of her roommate, her heart skipping a beat as Wednesday made direct and prolonged eye contact with her for the first time in a while.
“What?”
“You’re a lesbian?” Enid let out a small, relieved laugh.
“Yes. I thought you knew.”
“No… you’re not very like, out about it, I guess,” Enid said, then glanced at the new unfinished novel on Wednesday’s desk. She’d read a few chapters of it, the ones Wednesday had specifically selected in hopes of her being able to finish a page without dry heaving. The descriptions of women in it so far had been… interesting, to say the least.
Her gaze moved back to Wednesday, who was sitting with her knees curled to herself, wearing all black. Her eyes were unlike any other eyes Enid had ever seen.
Okay, yeah. Enid probably should’ve seen that one coming.
“Can we just agree to make things go back to normal?” Enid asked, “I’m completely comfortable with you.”
“And I with you,” Wednesday nodded, laying back down and pulling her knees further to her chest, tucking her hands under her chin. She looked adorable. And like she could murder someone at any second (she totally could). Enid knew this particular position. This was a healing position. One Wednesday slept in when she was exhausted and crashing after a rush of adrenaline.
Enid knew so much about Wednesday, her friend.
Maybe she wanted to be something more.
For now, though, she was content to curl up beside Wednesday, her body also crashing from all of the stress it had subjected itself to over the past few weeks. Wednesday didn’t seem to mind Enid’s presence beside her. Either that or she was already asleep, and she would kick Enid to the floor in the morning.
Enid closed her eyes and fell into a peaceful state. The slightest hint of pride in everything she was began to blossom in her chest, finally being seen and nurtured by her heart.
Perhaps things weren’t quite normal, Enid thought a few days later. Wednesday had arrived at the door thirty minutes ago, coated in blood and… something. Enid had immediately ordered that she shower. And clean up anything she trekked across the floor on her own.
She didn’t seem too injured, so Enid didn’t ask any questions. More often than not, she simply didn’t want to know. Besides, Wednesday being in the shower gave her just enough time to finish what she had been working on over the past few days.
Except now Wednesday was out of the shower and getting dressed, and Enid had to quickly look away, in fear of making things weird. Her cheeks felt warm, and her -
Okay, she wasn’t even going to think about that particular feeling. Yet.
Thankfully Wednesday was a fairly quick dresser, and she was fully-clothed within five minutes, and hard at work scrubbing blood from a crack in the floor. Thing was helping, mostly out of boredom. Enid took a deep breath and lifted the sewn-together fabric from her desk, “hey, Wednesday? I have something for you. I’ve been working on it for a few days, and I know it’s not really your colour, but…” slowly, she held out the small flag she had made for Wednesday to see. Wednesday blinked, putting down the rag she had been holding and going onto her knees to get a better look,
“What is it?”
“You haven’t seen the pride flags in the school before?” Wednesday shook her head. “Well, they are kind of… out of the way, I guess that makes sense. And you don’t have the internet, really, still… um, it’s the lesbian flag. Again, I know it’s not really your colour, but -” Wednesday stood up and took it, hanging it up in the corner of her room. It was mostly out of her line of sight, but it was still hanging up. She had accepted it. Enid couldn’t resist the little squeal she made, and she bounced on her toes, “look, I have some too, they’re hanging up over my desk. The homoromantic one and bisexual one, that is.”
“Thank you, Enid.”
Enid let out an excited squeal again and went back to her desk to do homework. Wednesday went to her own desk, to do something that involved bones and Enid’s superglue. And a lighter she had snuck in at some point.
Occasionally, they glanced behind themselves at each other. They hadn’t quite figured everything out, yet.
But it was a step in the right direction.