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Perhaps having the spirit of Goody Addams sink into her frame had invited other spirits to possess her.
That was the only logical conclusion that Wednesday could come to as she dug her fingers into the leather strap of her satchel, standing next to Enid Sinclair in Principal Weems office.
They were so close that Wednesday could feel the heat radiating off of her and while she much preferred the cold, the kind that sinks into her bones and makes her ache, this warmth doesn’t bother her as much.
The supposed spirits possessing her must be giving her adverse reactions, that must be the reason that her stomach feels like twisting into knots. It’s not the lovely kind of gut-twisting either, this time it settles heavily like a weight.
When Enid turned to leave, Wednesday turned on her foot as well, digging her nails into the quality leather of her bag that some cow died to produce as Enid rambled on about Wednesday coming to visit her in California.
They were interrupted by Bianca passing by and Wednesday had to catch her before she left. “Bianca.”
Bianca turned to look at her and Wednesday stared at her. “I owe you a thank-you.” It was as sincere as she could get across, vaguely aware of Enid watching her.
“We’re getting that fencing title next year,” Bianca commented, a ghost of a smile on her lips. “So don’t let killing one supernatural pilgrim get to your head.” Bianca started to walk off and Wednesday realized that Enid was also starting to walk off. The spirit mocking her squeezed her insides until Wednesday lurched forward.
“Enid, wait.” Wednesday grabbed Enid’s arm and the girl spun around to blink at her in surprise. For a moment, Wednesday didn’t know what to say, digging her nails so hard into the leather that it finally pierced the material.
“You okay?” Enid questioned, concern flickering across her face. “You’re kinda strangling your bag strap.”
Wednesday quickly took a deep breath and before she could let the spirits taunt her further, she slid the bag off of her shoulder and shoved her hand inside, producing a bundle of ink-black fabric that she then shoved at Enid’s chest.
Enid scrambled to grab onto the fabric, the material pooling through her fingers and Wednesday caught it before it fell to the ground. “What is this?” Enid reached out to touch the bundle of fabric in confusion.
“It’s a snood.” Wednesday deadpanned. "To replace the one that was demolished." The damned spirit was starting to squeeze her heart now. She wondered how much harder her heart could be squeezed before it exploded.
Enid blinked before a small gasp escaped her. The smile that lit up Enid’s face made Wednesday want to vomit. “For me?” Enid questioned, running her thumb over the soft fabric. She then blinked a few times. “Why is it black?” Then as if realizing how her question could be construed, quickly tacked on, “Not that there is anything wrong with black! But you know… I don’t really wear black.”
“It will match mine,” Wednesday shoved her hand back into her bag and then produced a second one. Enid’s grin grew even more as she immediately looped her snood over her head to wear it and for a moment, Wednesday swore that she sniffed the fabric.
Wednesday leaned away as Enid reached out and took the second snood from her before she could stuff it back into her bag. “What are you doing?” Wednesday demanded as Enid shuffled closer.
“Matching,” Enid chirped and Wednesday stopped breathing as Enid gently looped the fabric over her head and adjusted it to sit on her neck. “There.”
Perhaps the spirits were even crueler to not just squish her heart into a pulp and cease this torture. Wednesday slowly reached up to touch the fabric that Enid had ever so carefully placed, wondering if she messed it up if Enid would gently tug it back into place. For a few tempting moments, she debated about doing such before she let the fabric go. “Well?” She finally filled the silence.
“I gotta say, black can go good with pink sometimes,” Enid admired herself before she stepped closer to Wednesday. “I would have gotten you something if I knew--”
“Silence or I will cut out your tongue,” Wednesday did not get a replacement snood to expect something in return from Enid. She simply… no longer wished for Enid to brood over what had happened, that was all. An upset Enid was disgusting and intolerable. “It is merely to replace the ones that were ruined by my insistence to visit the Gates residence.”
Enid’s blinding grin softened into something fonder and Wednesday wondered if the damned spirit was playing pranks on her by letting her suffer, her heart beating uncomfortably in her chest. “Thank you, Wednesday. This means a lot to me. I’ll keep it safe.”
Wednesday stared up at Enid and not for the first time wished for a bolt of lightning to strike her right where she stood. Perhaps if she was nothing but a pile of ashes then the spirits would stop messing with her. “You make me want to throw up,” the words leave her lips faster than she could catch them.
Enid laughed loudly, her head tilted back as she smiled, her laugh like bells, a sound that usually grated on Wednesday’s nerves but this time it was a welcome sound to her ears and for some reason, she wanted to hear more of it. “I like you too,” Enid replied, deciphering the words that Wednesday would never speak and Wednesday cannot find it within herself to deny the translation.
A voice called out for Enid, catching her attention for a moment. Enid then turned to look back down at Wednesday. “I have to go,” she said, her tone regretful. She leaned forward and for a moment, Wednesday thought she would hug her again.
Instead, incredibly soft lips press against her cheek, so quick and gentle that it reminded Wednesday of the wings of butterflies that beat against her skin right before she plucked them off. Enid gave her a wide grin before she bolted, leaving Wednesday standing there in the hall.
Wednesday’s cheek tingled, almost as if she had been electrocuted but this time with the satisfying current lingering behind afterward. She caught the slight scent of the strawberry lip gloss that Enid was fond of.
She reached her thumb up and swiped it against her cheek, pulling it away to inspect it. The sticky substance peppered with glitter stared up at her, reminding her that it was real.
Wednesday would buy Enid all of the snoods she wanted and even suffer through the torture once again if that was what it took for Enid to do the same thing.
Because, for some insanely bizarre reason that not even Wednesday herself understood, she wanted it to happen again.