Wenya
“You sure seem excited to start the second term my little Storm Cloud. You’ve barely spoken about the dreadfully dreary day today. Is the Nevermore charm finally rubbing off on you?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, I’m contemplating if cremation or Tibetan sky burial would be a more appropriate fate for my stalker. They’ll be conscious during both procedures of course.”
“Oh Wednesday,” Morticia clicked her tongue. “You can’t fool me, there’s no shame in admitting that you enjoy the company of others. Given everything you’ve been through last term, I won’t be surprised if you’ve bonded with your peers.”
“You’re right, there is no shame. There’d only be a self-administered early grave if I admit that.”
Wednesday slowly pivoted her head to the side, watching idly as Thing drummed his hand on the window sill. Her mother wasn’t completely wrong, she was enticed by the prospect of returning. However, it was for entirely different reasons.
She spent the break narrowing down who her stalker or stalkers, could be. It was most likely a student given if they wish to continue stalking her, they'd have to be at school. She deduced that everyone who was present last term was a suspect. Some names held more weight on the list than others. Xavier Thorpe was an obvious choice. He was the one who gave her the phone after all. The phone she seldom used and was inches away from crucifying due to the obscene amount of notifications. Then there was the queen bee herself Bianca Barclay. She seemed cordial with her when they departed but she may still harbour an underlying grudge. You can never tell with Sirens. Or popular people for that matter. And then there were the not-so-obvious candidates. Or maybe they were obvious but Wednesday didn’t want to think about that too much. Enid Sinclair, her roommate, her…acquaintance, and “author” of Nevermore’s top gossip blog. If this was a mystery novel, she’d not only be a prime suspect, it’d probably be revealed she was behind it all.
But this wasn’t just any mystery story, this was her story. And luckily for her, it didn’t end with an obsessed stalker. A week into her reprieve she heard the news of Tyler’s grand escape from the county jail. Shame it was a victimless breakout, the world could do better with less inept law enforcement. Barring a disappointing breakout, Tyler will undoubtedly find his way back to her, either as a friend in need or a monster to be slain, is yet to be determined.
But the piece de résistance of her story, Crackstone. She defeated him, yes, but she had a prickling feeling that won’t be the last she saw of the Pilgrim or his influence. A shame really, her story was near perfect if not for the cliche return of the villain. Nonetheless, Wednesday has gotten this far by trusting her instincts, she will not deviate even if it leads to rather tasteless tropes.
Her mother’s hypnotic voice drew her from her thoughts. “In light of your stalker, I’ve spoken to Larrisa about your situation. Safety is of utmost priority. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be sending you back.”
“My safety or theirs?” Wednesday responds flatly, without missing a beat.
Morticia couldn’t help but smirk. “Both. I want you to enjoy your time there, but you mustn’t let these things interfere with your school experience.”
“I assure you it will not. I already have my term planned out. Tyler will have attempted to make some form of contact with me in the first month, by midterms I will have deduced the identity of my stalker, and a week before finals, I’ll have obliterated whatever’s left of Crackstone’s legacy. I cannot afford any surprises like last time.” Tyler ending up as the monster and Thronhill being a descendant of Crackstone, are prime examples of said unwanted surprises.
“Ahh my little gravestone, for being such an avid mystery author you seem to expect far less surprise than life so often gives.”
“I assure you mother, my plan will play out, no matter what distractions may appear.”
“We’ll see Wednesday.” Morticia let out a wispy sigh as they enter the gated threshold of Nevermore Academy. “We’ll see.”
“Wednesday! Ahhhh!”
Wednesday could feel her eyes widening into saucers at the sound of that bubbly voice. She spun around from the retreating car just in time to reflexively catch a barrelling Enid. She stood there like a deer in headlights, unsure of what she should do. However, her hands seemed to have a mind of their own as she watches them tentatively rest on the girl's small shoulders. After a moment longer she decided, she did not hate the feeling. But there were about 12 other things she would rather be doing right now. She silently hopes her mother wasn’t watching them in the rearview mirror.
“You’re alive! You didn’t answer any of my texts, or calls, or face times, or tweets, or @s, I even emailed you Wenya!”
Wednesday abruptly pulled back, clutching Enid’s shoulders. “What…Did…You...Just...Call...Me?” She snarled, her eyes boring daggers right into her roommate's overtly crystal blue ones.
Enid’s cheery facade faltered for a moment before she straightened up, a shy but unapologetic smile gracing her lips. “Wenya. It's the nick name we all agreed to call you. We gave you time to object in the group chat, but you never responded.
“Group chat?” She arches a brow at the notion.
“It just has Xavier, Ajax, Me, Yoko, and Bianca. You know, Wenya was pretty generous. Ajax wanted to call you…Actually never mind.” Enid quickly backtracked, her cheeks flushing.
Wednesday suddenly felt an urge to check her phone.
As if reading her mind, Enid snatched her arm, leading her into the safety of the halls, where there would be warmth… and witnesses. “The point is, you didn’t respond. what gives? Don’t tell me you forgot your password.”
“If it's important enough that you must reach me, you can either use an orb or send a letter by rat or raven depending on the severity of the information,” Wednesday concludes she would shelve the little nickname issue for now. It seemed her reputation has taken an unexpected hit. Perhaps a few surprise spiders in her classmates' headphones or roach eggs in their pomade would remind them.
“Orb? Is that a new app or - Oh Thing!” Enid’s voice rose a few octaves to the detriment of Wednesday’s ears, as Thing saluted the blond from her shoulder. “You look so smooth! You’re using that hand creme I sent you, right? The Tik-Tok one?”
Thing nodded his fingers eagerly.
Wednesday gave him a sidelong glance as they strolled through the halls. “You’ve been keeping in contact with them? Traitor.”
“It's SO good to see you Thing, I honestly live for our nightly skincare seshes! I didn’t think you’d be here this semester.”
“Given my current situation, mother thinks it would be better to have an extra set of…fingers watching my back.”
Enid’s brows furrowed. “Huh? Why, are you in some sort of trouble again?”
“Quite the opposite,” Wednesday responded in a cool monotone.
When it was clear Wednesday wasn’t going to elaborate further, Enid dropped her eyes, her lip forming a small pout. “I thought after fighting a Hyde for you, surviving a Pilgrim ghost, and running away from Tyler’s dad, we’d…I dunno, be ok with sharing things like this.” Enid murmured, a tinge of hurt lacing her voice. Wednesday bristled at her response, her eyes quickly darting over her companion.
“For your sake Enid, I hope you’d never have to find out…Trust me on this.” Wednesday hesitantly added the last part, which came out as a pained choke. She hoped she can get her message across with the intensity of her gaze. It was true. This was for the better. If Enid never found out about her stalker situation, then it means she was never her stalker, to begin with. For some reason that made Wednesday feel much, much better.
Enid let out a reluctant nod, sighing. “Whatever you say Wednesday.”
Wednesday’s eyes lingered on her for a bit, her lips pursing into a thin line before finally tearing her gaze away. Thing squeezed her shoulder tightly, gesturing a disapproving finger at her. She didn't need Thing’s input to tell her she wasn’t happy with her response. But why should she care? And why did she feel the need to change the subject to something that would brighten the blonde's mood?
“So…you’ve got eyes and ears everywhere. Hear anything I should know about?” Wednesday tried in her best nonchalant voice.
Like a flip of the switch, her roommate's demeanour was grotesquely sunshine and rainbows again. Since when did an Addam's stoop as low as to willingly participate in gossip? Perhaps her dip in reputation was justly warranted. Either way, she’d be sure to clear up any misunderstandings….after this talk that is.
Enid glanced around superstitiously before leaning in with a conspiratorial grin on her face. “We have a new student, a boy.”
“How charming, another hormonal teenager with magical powers, exactly what this school needs,” Wednesday responded blandly.
If possible, Enids Cheshire grin broadened. “Oh no, not just any hormonal teenager with magical powers. There are rumours about his arrival here. He apparently just appeared here one day. Like out of legit nowhere! No records, no social security number, no history of EVER exiting, nothing! It was like he materialized from thin air.”
“That is…intriguing,” Wednesday admitted as they approach the quad. The courtyard where students seemed to conglomerate akin to insects drawn to a Venus fly trap's nectar.
“That’s not all, he apparently caused a big commotion in town. Something about him throwing a car or lifting a car full of people.”
At Wednesday’s bewildered expression, Enid scrunched her nose. “Yeah, I think I heard it wrong too. But anyways, whatever he did spooked Sherrif Galpin and forced Weem’s hand in accepting him. But wait…”
“What? Well what is it?” Wednesday said in a clipped voice when Enid stopped talking. They came to a stop outside the quad’s entrance, Wednesday eyeing the mischievous smirk tugging on the corner of Enid’s lips.
“Well… you’d just have to read my latest blog entry when it drops tonight!”
Wednesday's mouth hung open for a second, she clamped it with a roll of her eyes. “Enid, how on earth did you manage to become more insufferable over the break?” she muttered half-heartedly.
Enid glanced over her shoulder, waving at Yoko who was leaning against a pillar facing them. Wednesday was sure she was a stone statue just minute ago.
“Gotta go Wednesday, of course, you’re free to join us…” Enid trails off, shutting her mouth when Wednesday shot her an ‘I’m insulted you’d even asked’ eyebrow raise. “Right…not a people person still. Well, I’ll see you at dinner kay? Maybe this time you’ll finally read my blog. Can’t wait for you to finally experience my voice in print!” Enid giggled as she skipped her way toward the brooding vampire.
The sad thing was, she was right. Not about how digital writing was comparable to print. Quite the contrary, nothing can beat the tactile stroke of a typewriter or the smell of fresh parchment. No, it was the fact Wednesday did plan to read her blog later that night, not that she’d ever admit it to her. She was annoyingly fascinated with this newcomer, his arrival something straight out of a mystery novel.
“I assure you mother, my plan will play out, no matter what distractions may appear.”
“We’ll see Wednesday…We’ll see”
No, she will not be proven a hypocrite by her mother. She will read Enid’s grammatically faulty writing she passes as liberal journalism and that will be the end of it. Mysterious students have no place in her plan.
She felt Thing prod at her shoulder for her attention. Looking over, she drew in a sharp breath at what he signed.
‘Wenya’
Wednesday swear she saw red.
"Thing, I will not hesitate to pluck every last one of your nails out, and watch as you fail to open you’re beloved moisturizing creme with bloodied, nailless fingers.” She bit out. Thing curled up defensively before scurrying off into her bag. With a sigh, Wednesday made her way to Ophelia hall to get settled in.
It’s confirmed, her reputation definitely took a hit.