Chapter 2
Wednesday spent much of the following week turning your conversation over and over again in her mind. She hadn’t said anything wrong, had she? As far as she could tell you had been enjoying the banter, but for some reason you hadn’t spoken to her since that day. You actually hadn’t even looked at her since that day, regardless of the class you shared every afternoon.
The first day after you two spoke, Wednesday sat in her usual spot for lunch hopping you’d turn up. You didn’t, and she let out a frustrated huff at the end of the hour when it became official she had wasted her time for you. She got to see you in botany, however you were so focused you never once glanced her way. It was especially strange the longer her eyes bore into the side of your head, as she’d been told on several occasions her gaze made its victims skin physically burn.
The next day was no different, and by the middle of the week she was beginning to get desperate. When you walked into the courtyard during lunch she felt a strange feeling in her stomach. It couldn’t have been from her food, since she ate virtually the same thing everyday. Before she could further assess, a tall shadow had fallen over her.
“You’re blocking my skin damage,” she deadpanned, opening her book to the correct page.
“Sorry, I didn’t realize I was such a nuisance,” Xavier replied as he sat down across from her with his hands held in mock surrender. Wednesday glanced to the sirens table you stood next to, your back turned to her as you animatedly conversed with them.
“Well you are. What do you want?”
“Jesus, Wednesday, even for you this is harsh.”
She scowled at him.
“I was just curious if you’d met Rae yet, sheesh.”
He took her silence as an invitation to continue.
“Think she’d go out with me? I know it’s kinda crazy but I reall-“
She stood up and left, carrying her book in her arm instead of taking the time to put it in her bag.
There was no sign of you at botany that afternoon, and Wednesday had a difficult time thinking about anything but where you might be right now.
Her cello solo that night was intense, even by her standards. Afterwards, Wednesday asked Enid if she knew where you usually resided, as you seldom turned up for lunch and boring her eyes into the side of your head throughout botany had proven unsuccessful at acquiring your attention, but Enid merely shrugged.
“No one knows where that girl is always disappearing off to. Come to think of it I’m not entirely sure where she lives, or who her roommate is. If she even has one.”
“Well thank you for being entirely unhelpful,” she had responded bitterly, surprising herself with her harsh tone. Enid was clearly hurt when she delivered her own biting response.
“The great Wednesday Addams can’t stand the possibility that someone else may be just as mysterious and aloof as her, guess you’re not as special as you thought.”
Wednesday barely slept that night, and the next day she didn’t bother going to the quad.
Now it was day five of you ignoring her. To be fair, you technically weren’t ignoring her as you hadn’t overtly avoided her, but your overall disinterest in her existence was decidedly much worse. At least if you were ignoring her it meant you were thinking of her too.
Today you were at lunch, but you spent almost the whole time with Enid and Xavier. Her skin prickled uncomfortably as she watched you laugh and play with her friends.
You showed up to botany, but this time there seemed to be a weird tension between you and Thornhill. Well, actually the tension seemed to be entirely on your side, maybe having nothing to do with her. It dissipated when you took your seat, and Wednesday wasn’t entirely sure if it had really been there to begin with.
Like every other day that week, she spent the majority of the lesson watching you watch the teacher. Funnily enough, the more she watched you the more she was positive you weren’t actually listening to anything Ms. Thornhill was saying, which she found increasingly amusing. It wasn’t the fact that you were blatantly wasting an adequate education for no foreseeable reason, but rather the care and tact you put into making it seem like you were paying attention when that was far from the truth. Everything you did was so calculated she was certain it took more energy than to just pay attention in the first place.
When Ms. Thornhill would ask the class questions and have everyone write there answers on a board to prevent cheating, you would look in the reflection of the glass wall and pick whichever answer she tended to smile at when a student wrote it down. When she asked the class to take notes, you’re pen flew across the page as you wrote down everything she instructed. On the fourth day, however, Wednesday realized you weren’t actually writing in English— just something that looked like English. She imagined it was how the language would look to someone who couldn’t speak it. Today was no different.
The class stood around a table towards the back of the greenhouse, their instructions to collect samples of monkshood and analyze them under a microscope. Wednesday almost smirked when she noticed you fully pretend to cut the stem off an imaginary plant and place it under a microscope, stroking your chin thoughtfully and bending over every so often to write in your made up language. She knew there was no way you’d be able to fly under the radar like this the whole year, but it was entertaining to observe regardless. Maybe you were allergic to learning the way she was allergic to color.
Aside from you aptitude for disregarding instruction, she noticed quite a few interesting tendencies. Today marked the third day this week of wearing blue and white vans, and second day you wore a predominantly blue sweatshirt or top. Additionally, when students would use a blue marker to write on their boards you typically looked at them first, despite the size of the answer or the proximity of them to you. The only strange occurrence was that your pen was always red, but after learning you weren’t actually writing words it made sense. The syllabus clearly stated they must use a black, blue, or red pen, and as red was the hardest to read, it was the obvious choice. Your attention to detail was quite impressive.
“Wednesday, you’ve been awfully quiet lately, how about you answer the next question.”
And as much as she hated it, the Raven found herself grateful for the dozens of hours she’d spent working with her mother in their garden. She had extensive knowledge on the majority of plants and concepts Ms. Thornhill taught, which was a lifesaver considering she’d spent so much time watching you this week she somehow managed to pay less attention in class then the very subject of her observation.
“Very good, Wednesday, that is correct.”
A smug look came over Bianca’s face as she watched the goth, and she whispered in her friends ear. They snickered as she wrote out a note, and Wednesday could see them glancing at her through her peripherals. Then, to her dismay, Bianca’s friend passed the note to the girl seated to your right, who silently handed the paper to you.
Wednesday watched helplessly as your slender fingers unfolded the note, your brows furrowing as you read it. You looked up. Your head turned. You were finally looking at her again. She pretended to read the chalkboard.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw you hold your hand in the air, not waiting to be called on.
“Ms. Thornhill, may a go to the bathroom.”
The teacher glanced at the clock; There were only four minutes left of class.
“Please,” you insisted, staring her down intently.
There it was again. That tension. This time there was no doubt in Wednesdays mind that Thornhill felt it too.
“Sure, go ahead,” she sighed, adjusting her glasses a you hurried out of the room with the note in your hand.
What could Bianca have possibly wrote? Your face was so uncertain, almost disturbed when you looked at her. That wasn’t how she wanted you to look at her.
Bianca was going to pay for making you look at her like that.
The sirens horrific demise flashed in her brain in about fourteen different ways before Thornhill dismissed the class. Wednesday stayed seated, guarding your backpack from across the room. Students filed out around her, but she didn’t budge, not until everyone was gone.
A moment later your backpack was in her hand and she was standing at the front of the class. Thorn hill finished erasing the board, jumping when she turned around.
“Oh, Wednesday, you gave me a fright!”
“I’d like to return Rae’s backpack, I fear the possibility of her falling behind in class without her notes.
“That’s very sweet, but I’m keen on chatting with her when she gets back,” the teacher smiled incessantly.
There was nothing reasonable Wednesday could respond with, though she felt her grip tighten on the backpacks strap.
“Very well,” was all she could get out as she carefully handed the woman your bag.
That was it, she thought as she folded her arms over her chest and closed her eyes. She was wasting time and energy thinking about you when she should be fully obsessing over the monster. From now on she was done with distractions. Tomorrow was outreach day, and she had every and all intention of getting some answers.
It took a long time for her to get comfortable, and it certainly didn’t help that Enid happened to be gushing about you over the phone to Yoko at that particular moment. An especially threatening glare sent her roommates way clued her in and cut the call short. It didn’t help. Even in silence she couldn’t sleep.