Midnight Rainbow (Enid x Wednesday thru Enid's POV)

lines (E1)

I stalk over to the window. "What the hell did you do to my room?"

First my mom, now Wednesday. This is the last effing thing I need right now. The very last.

"Dividing our room equally," she says. Calmly. Maddeningly.

And if I hadn't just had that horrible FaceTime with my parents, maybe I could be reasonable and understand a person's desire to live in an environment that reflects their personality, but in this moment, all I feel is rage.

Wednesday kicks the colorful film to my side of the room. I notice now that there's a black piece of tape dividing it neatly in half. Her side. My side. And my side has a heap of pink-blue-purple-yellow films, lying in a pile like technicolor snakeskin. Like a broken rainbow. Like hours and hours of painstaking work just discarded like garbage.

"It looks like a rainbow vomited on your side."

Yeah. It does. Because I've worked really hard to make it represent my true self. Because it's been a major part of my healing process. I think about telling Wednesday this.

"I—"

"Silence would be appreciated," she says without even looking at me. "This is my writing time."

She sits down at a black typewriter, like the kind every pompous douchebag guy in every MFA program writes on.

"Your writing time?"

"I devote an hour a day to my novel. Perhaps if you did the same, your vlog might be coherent. I've read serial killer diaries with better punctuation."

My mouth falls open. "I write in my voice. It's my truth. It's what my followers love."

And commercial writing is just as valid as literary, you pretentious fun-vampire.

She turns. "Your followers are clearly imbeciles." Walks towards me. "They respond to your stories with insipid little pictures."

"You mean, emojis?" Get your head out of the dark ages, you luddite. "It's how people express their feelings. You know, I realize that's a foreign concept for you."

We face off, tension building, heat rising in our cheeks, each of us on our side of the line, but never crossing it.

What would it take for her to cross it? The thought just pops into my mind, makes my stomach do a backflip, but before it can fully take hold, Wednesday is speaking again.

"When I look at you, the following emojis come to mind. Rope. Shovel. Hole." She says it so scathingly before turning away. "By the way, there are two D's in Addams. If you're going to gossip about me, at least spell my name correctly."

Something about her tone sets me off. It's so...patronizing.

And I'm all full up on patronizing today.

I punch at the screen of my phone with my fingertip until some upbeat pop music comes out. I dance in a circle. Jazz hands the anger away. There's no better way to piss off a person than to live your life with relish.

"Turn that off."

See?

I make goofy fish faces and dance my truth even harder.

"This is your final warning." She comes at me like she's going to stop me by force.

But she's underestimated me. EVERYONE has underestimated me.

"Rawr!" I put my hands up and the claws come out. Literally. Red-orange-yellow-blue-purple claws grow from my fingertips. Cheerful but menacing. Just. Like. Me.

"DON'T mess with me. This kitty's got claws, and I'm not afraid to use them."

She doesn't look scared, but she does stop. And there's something else, something in her eyes I don't recognize - I try to predict what she'll do next when Ms. Thornhill opens the door and breezes inside.

"Good evening, girls." Shuts the door behind her, oblivious. "Oh, sorry about the mud."

She does have mud caked on her red rubber boots now that she mentions it, but I'm mostly just trying to figure out if she saw my claws.

"I wanted to make sure that Wednesday was settling in."

We both face her and try to appear to be upstanding individuals.

"Ah. Is this a bad time?"

(Guess we're not as good at faking normal as we think.)

"I'm Ms. Thornhill, your dorm mom. Apologies I wasn't here to greet you when you arrived." She smiles. "I trust Enid has given you the old Nevermore welcome."

"She's been smothering me with hospitality," replies Wednesday. I'm feeling relieved that she's not going to rat me out. And then: "I hope to return the favor. In her sleep."

Cool, cool, death threats.

Ms. Thornhill smiles awkwardly. "Well, here's a little welcome gift from my conservatory. I try to match the right flower to each of my girls."

She passes Wednesday a pot holding a striking black flower.

"And when I read your personal statement in your application, I immediately thought of this one."

I remember my first day. Ms. Thornhill gave me wolfsbane. My mother had clutched her chest, saying who in their right mind would give a werewolf a flower that has been used to weaken and destroy us for centuries. But Ms. Thornhill had said that was only true if it was introduced into the body. And that by taking care of it, I could remind myself that I had control over things that might harm me. I had control over my destiny.

I liked that it made me feel powerful. I liked that my mother hated it.

I still keep it on my desk.

"The black dahlia," says Wednesday, breaking me out of my daydream.

"Oh, you know it," says Ms. Thornhill, pleased.

"Of course. It's named after my favorite unsolved murder."

Ms. Thornhill: ....

"Thank you," says Wednesday.

Our teacher attempts to regroup. "Okey-dokey. Before I leave, I want to go over a few house rules. Lights off at 10:00, no loud music, and no boys. Ever."

I nod, like, yes ma'am, absolutely.

I also cross my fingers behind my back because if there was any chance of ever sneaking Ajax into my room, well.

"What's the story about going into the local town?" asks Wednesday.

"Passes to Jericho are a privilege, not a right." Yeah, I seriously doubt that's gonna stop Wednesday. "It's a brisk, 25-minute walk, or there's a shuttle on the weekends. The locals are a tad bit wary about Nevermore, so please don't go making any waves or perpetuating any outcast stereotypes."

Ms. Thornhill looks at me. "That means keep your claws to yourself."

And then at Wednesday. "And no smothering people in their sleep."

LOL, it's like she knows us.

"Are we clear?"

Yep. Perfectly. Totally. Abundantly.

Wednesday and I say nothing.

"Great talk." Ms. Thornhill giggles, then waves naively at us as she leaves.

I turn to face Wednesday, and she turns to face me, that tense feeling rising up between us again. Building until I feel hot all over.

Wednesday Addams is the most exasperating person I have ever met.