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By midday Enid had realized what was up. She was a little embarrassed that it took her this long, being a self-professed connoisseur of all things kitschy and cute. Though, in her defense, it really couldn’t be said that Wednesday Addams did kitschy, or heaven forbid, cute.
Homicidal and rude is more her style, she thought, stifling a self-satisfied smirk at her own wit. But oh, God. She stole a glance at the dark-haired girl on the other side of their room, dispassionately arguing with Thing over the merits of expanding her monochrome wardrobe. It was a discussion she had been roped into, which was why she’d been leafing through her own things for style pegs to show Wednesday. Her fashion scrapbooks had dropped from her hands when the realization hit.
In her distinctly Wednesday way, her roommate had gotten her to stay in for Valentine’s Day.
With just the two of them [and Thing].
Almost like it was a date [albeit chaperoned].
Enid knew her too well now to misconstrue her intentions. The fact that Wednesday had not only tolerated the bubblegum pop blasting from her speakers this morning, but also plied her with questions to get her to gush about her favorite girl groups—she might as well have shouted to the rooftops that she wanted to spend time with Enid. Today, of all days.
How could she even miss that?
She groaned, finally getting Wednesday and Thing to look at her. Enid gulped under her expectant stare.
“What? You can’t tell me you’re already giving up.”
“Of course not!” She hastily snatched her pile of scrapbooks off the floor. “Great fits need inspiration, is all.”
Thing hopped onto her bed. He tapped impatiently on her bedspread, obviously highly invested in the exercise. Enid almost felt guilty for being side-tracked by her discovery. “Show us!” he prompted.
She had not been able to pull up a specific look, her mind running a mile a minute over Wednesday’s roundabout scheme. Enid settled for flipping through her latest project, picking a section almost at random. She landed on a K-Pop spread, bursting to the seams with pink. TWICE’s Sana, decked with bows and wrapped in a billowy dress with sleeves for days, smized from the page.
Well. The idea was to challenge Wednesday in the style department, anyway.
[Also, now that she was about eighty percent sure that the sour-faced girl wanted to spend Valentine’s Day with her, Enid can’t help but push. She just had to know how much Wednesday was willing to let slide… for the sake of today.]
Plastering on her most saccharine smile, she crossed their room and presented her roommate with her find.
Wednesday stared at the explosively pink page for a good while, her face unreadable. Then her gaze met Enid’s. Her eyes flitted to the scrapbook, and then back to Enid again.
“Um, Wednesday…? Earth to Wednesday? Hello?”
The girl blinked. Once. Twice. Her silence was par for the course, but this never happened.
What was going on?
Enid was about to take it all back and say she was joking after all—knowing that Wednesday baited her to stay in today was enough—but she was beaten to it.
Wednesday looked up at her, and Enid could swear there was the faintest dusting of pink on the pale girl’s cheeks.
“I like it.”
For some reason, the whispered words had the shy tinge of confession. As if they weren’t merely a comment on Enid’s half-hearted offering. As if they meant something entirely different.
Enid’s mind screeched to a halt, utterly disbelieving.
Huh…?!