Chapter 3
Enid had woken up early this morning to go talk with admin. Despite crushing hard on her roommate, it just isn’t feasible. Especially when said roommate is incredibly observant as is.
“I even paid for the room to be a solo,” Enid says, turning the paper for the principal to see.
Ms. Weems doesn’t even look at it before sliding it back over across the desk.
“I’m well aware of the situation, Ms. Sinclair. We’ve already stopped charging you the extra money for the dorm to be your own,” she explains.
Enid feels an awkward laugh bubble out of her, trying to stay composed.
“Okay? Then start charging me again and find another room for Wednesday,” she says, trying to stay respectful.
However, if she shares a dorm with someone, her vigilante activities are going to become much, much harder.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Sinclair, but there is nowhere else to put her. Besides, she is an older student here- a legacy at that. She gets the first pick of where she stays.”
“You’re telling me Wednesday willingly chose the one section of dorms that face nothing but trees and can hardly stay above 68 degrees?” Enid asks incredulously.
Ms. Weems nods as she clasps her hands together atop her desk.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Sinclair, you are just going to have to deal with it. Even if I wanted to move her, or you, there are no available spots.”
Enid taps her fingers against the arm of her chair as she thinks, heavily considering getting an apartment nearby.
“While you’re here though, I would like to remind you of our absence policy,” Ms. Weems says, turning her computer around, pointing at the list of Enid’s absences and tardies.
“If you cannot stay within a reasonable number, I’m afraid we’ll have to terminate your scholarship,” she adds, turning her computer back to face her.
Enid nods, already having planned for this.
“I know. No more excessive absences. Got it,” she says.
The familiar tingling burn in the back of her mind flares, and she turns, locking eyes with those of Wednesday as she stands in the doorway.
Wednesday’s head tilts, her expression not unlike that of a confused animal.
“Ms. Addam’s please wait in the main office,” Principal Weems says.
“I was told to come in here. The secretary in the front sai-” Wednesday is cut off with a brief alarm as the intercom comes on and the school goes on shutdown.
Enid stands immediately, walking toward the door to try to get at what is going on, but principal Weems is already pulling the door shut and locking it.
“What’d the secretary say?” Enid asks Wednesday who’s grabbing her camera from around her neck.
“That Hyde has been spotted near campus,” she says and Enid growls in frustration.
“How the hell does he keep getting out?” she mutters under her breath as she walks over to the window with Wednesday.
“Do you girls not understand what a lockdown is? Get away from the windows,” principal Weems scolds as she walks over and pulls the blinds shut.
She guides the girls to a corner of the office, telling them to sit.
Enid glances over at Wednesday and almost outs herself with a question about the flash on her camera, remembering how it had triggered something within Hyde.
“You- um- photograph all your near-death experiences?” Enid tries to joke, but really just trying to lead the conversation down a certain path.
“This isn’t near-death, and no. I have an internship at the local paper. I photograph, write, and edit papers,” Wednesday answers.
“I thought interns got coffees?”
Wednesday merely looks at Enid with that blank expression of hers.
“Can I see some of these photographs of yours then? I mean, we’re probably going to be here for a while, no?” Enid asks, gesturing to the camera.
“Not presently. I doubt we’ll be here longer than five minutes,” Wednesday says, adjusting and toying with her camera to, assumingly, set it up for something.
“Why is that?”
Wednesday gives her a look that says Enid should already know.
“That arrogant arachnid will be here,” she says simply before holding her camera up to her eye.
Enid has to bite her lip in order to hold back a laugh.
“Spider-woman, you mean?”
“Sure. My paper is only focused on her recently, wanting to catch her in action and maybe figure out who she is. But I find there are other stories worth writing,” Wednesday says.
Weems huffs in annoyance as she looks over at the girls.
“Do you girls not understand the purpose of a lockdown? Be quiet,” she says.
Wednesday casts a glance at Enid and the latter swears she sees a small smile pulling at the goth’s mouth.
“I’m a journalist, Ms. Weems, I do not see the need for me to be here when I can be on the lawn gathering information on Hyde,” Wednesday explains as if she’s merely talking about the news.
“If she leaves, can I go to the bathroom?” Enid chimes in, feeling that familiar tingle at the back of her mind.
She surges forward, just before the office window breaks and curls her body over Wednesday.
The glass doesn’t get far due to the thick curtains pulled down, but she still remains covering her until Wednesday starts to push her off.
And even then, she moves away reluctantly.
“Girls, we need to move now,” Ms. Weems says, grabbing both the girls and tugging them both toward the closet in the office.
However, Wednesday breaks free of her hold and runs for the window, slipping beneath the curtain and climbing out of the window.
Enid doesn’t hesitate as she races after her, Ms. Weems protesting and grabbing for her.
However, even her tightest hold is nothing compared to Enid’s enhanced strength.
Enid crawls out through the window, following the dark swishing braids of her roommate.
There Hyde is in his usual mask- tight, grey, and dirty with dirt and blood with eye holes cut- fighting with the police on the lawn.
Enid watches him a moment, wondering why he’s even ventured to campus grounds. Wondering what his goal is here.
Then there’s a flash, and Hyde stops, turning toward the source.
Enid growls in annoyance as she looks over at her roommate once more taking photos of the mass killer who’s already shown he isn’t a fan of paparazzi.
She runs over, needing to get to Wednesday before Tyler can.
Which, of course, is already charging full speed at her.
Luckily, this time, Wednesday seems to have a grasp on self-preservation as she starts running as well.
The police obviously are in a cease-fire, not shooting while there are two students and a principal in close range.
Hyde closes in quick, quicker than Enid can.
She launches herself instead, tackling him to the ground before engaging in combat.
Well, trying too.
Just like before, Hyde has no interest in the person hitting him, or all the noises going on.
His sole focus is on the girl with her camera, running.
“What is it about that flash?” Enid huffs under her breath, trying to keep Hyde restricted long enough for the cops to come over and get him again.
Ms. Weems screeches, her hands flailing slightly as she finally catches up, putting a hand out to try and help keep the other securely pinned in the grass.
Enid suddenly remembers that she’s not supposed to be strong enough to keep someone of his size pinned, so she makes a show of struggling to keep him in grasp.
It’s a win all the way around.
Ms. Weems gets to feel like she’s helping more than she actually is, the cops get the bad guy(again), Enid’s secret is kept just that, and Wednesday-
“Where’s Wednesday?”
Enid lets the cops grab Hyde before drawing away and standing, looking for Wednesday, but she isn’t anywhere to be seen.
A group of cops tase Hyde repetitively before taking him to the swat car when he’s too weak to stand.
Meanwhile, another group come over to talk to Enid and Ms. Weems, talking about statements, school closure, and other things that Enid tunes out due to her focus being on the missing ravenette.
When she’s finally allowed to leave, she spends a few minutes looking around campus before going back up to her dorm- taking the normie way since she can’t risk climbing in through her window anymore.
When she walks in, she sees a bloody handprint on the door. Her body immediately tenses in anticipation as to what she might find when she steps in.
She doesn’t see anything immediately, but as she works her way to the bathroom, she sees Wednesday cleaning wounds on her arm and hands after climbing out of the window.
“That was stupid,” Enid says, looking at her through the mirror.
Wednesday’s dark eyes meet hers for a brief moment before she says, “It was necessary.”
“Right, anything for a point to your name. Anything to get your name known even that means getting killed?” Enid counters.
“Most writers are memorialized quickly and are more revered once they die,” she replies casually.
Enid feels like throttling her.
However, she refrains as she, instead, grabs Wednesday’s uninjured arm and turns her so she can see the cut over her bicep.
“I’m handling it. Merely a flesh wound.”
Wednesday’s claim goes ignored as Enid applies the gauze before wrapping her arm tightly.
Enid has to lean down slightly to apply it, her blonde hair falling into her face that’s bowed so close to the other’s.
“Anywhere else?” Enid asks after finishing up, casting a cursory look over Wednesday’s form.
Her skirt is torn, blood dripping down her left leg.
“Sit,” Enid instructs, pointing to the edge of the tub.
Wednesday raises a brow, and for a moment, Enid expects her to fight her on it, protesting that she can handle it on her own.
But much to her surprise, Wednesday walks over and sits, pulling her skirt up enough to show where the glass had cut from the inside of her knee down the side of her calf.
Enid grabs the rag, washing away the excess blood away with one hand while the other keeps a firm grasp on Wednesday’s thigh- just above the knee- to keep it from moving.
She then pours rubbing alcohol over the rag before dabbing over the wound.
The girl above her doesn’t wince or even flinch.
“You are the strangest girl I know,” Enid mutters, though, truthfully, a little jealous at the other’s pain tolerance.
She’s been fighting bad guys for two years, and you would think she would have developed a higher tolerance.
Nope.
“Being ordinary gets you nowhere in life,” Wednesday replies.
Enid glances up at her, still kneeled in front of her sat form. And for a moment, she sees something other than indifference on her face.
However, she can’t determine what it is exactly before it’s gone.
“Fair enough,” Enid replies before focusing back down at the wound, dressing it how she did to Wednesday’s arm.
“Is it my turn to play doctor?” Wednesday asks when Enid finishes and stands.
The blonde’s brows furrow in confusion as she regards her roommate.
“Why?”
“You’re bleeding as well,” Wednesday points out, pressing her first two fingers to the cut on Enid’s forearm- causing her to hiss slightly in pain.
She hadn’t even noticed she had been cut till Wednesday had pointed it out.
Maybe my pain tolerance is getting higher, she thinks hopefully.
“It’s not even bleeding anymore. I’ll be fine,” Enid says with a shake of her head.
But Wednesday is not taking no for an answer.
Typical.
She grabs Enid’s wrist and pulls her close enough that she can get a good look at the wound before cleaning it and dressing it.
“Thank you,” she says, looking at her bandaged arm. It’s done surprisingly well.
“Should I be concerned you’re so good at this?” she teases, loving how the other reacts with that simple, single brow raise.
“Should I be concerned that you are so good at it?” Wednesday counters.
Enid had already suspected living with Wednesday would be hard- but this girl is too observant for her own good.
This is going to be impossible.
“Touche,” she says instead of answering as she turns and heads back to her room.
“Enid,” calls that fancy yet toneless drawl.
“Hm?” Enid hums, turning to face the other who’s now standing.
“Thank you.”
Enid bites the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling widely at Wednesday’s gratitude.
“‘Course,” she replies before disappearing into her room.