Beneath the surface || Wenclair

Chapter 7: behind closed doors

Wednesday felt a strange, inexplicable flutter in her stomach as she declared Enid would be her partner in the game of spin the bottle. It was a terrible idea— she knew that much. But there was a deeper truth hiding beneath the surface: she had hoped for this outcome all along. To be paired with Enid was the reason she had reluctantly agreed to partake in the absurd game.

Yet, the weight of her own emotions loomed over her, making her question the wisdom of her decision.

She recalled the conversation with Xavier from earlier in the week, when he had suggested the idea of kissing Enid as an experiment. "It's a perfect way to test the waters," he'd said with a grin that made her want to stab him for his incessant cheerfulness. "You need to know if you really like her." At the time, Wednesday had found the notion irritatingly insightful. Kissing Enid had become both a potential revelation and a terrifying leap into uncharted territory.

As the laughter and cheers of their classmates echoed around her, Wednesday felt the familiar pang of discomfort. The idea of kissing Enid in front of a group of gaping, judgmental teenagers was not appealing. "We should go somewhere private," she said, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions roiling inside her. "I have no desire to perform for this crowd of unnerving teens."

Enid's wide eyes darted toward Wednesday, and she seemed to comprehend the subtle undertone of vulnerability behind the cold facade.

"Yeah, that makes sense," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Xavier, however, let out a resigned sigh, clearly disappointed at the turn of events. He gestured toward the empty room that had once belonged to his old roommate. "You two can use my old room. It's quiet and should be free of distractions." A chorus of playful howls erupted from the group as Wednesday and Enid began to walk toward the designated room, the laughter ringing in Wednesday's ears like a dreadful melody.

The space was dimly lit, a refuge from the blaring noise of the party. Once inside, Wednesday closed the door behind them, creating a barrier between themselves and the prying eyes of their peers. The silence felt heavy, charged with unspoken words and thoughts.

Enid fidgeted nervously, her body tense and her expression a mix of excitement and anxiety. Wednesday studied her, taking note of the way Enid's hands fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, her eyes flitting around the room as if seeking an escape route.

"We don't have to kiss, you know," Enid stammered, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "No one has to know. W-we can walk out and just say we kissed."

Wednesday's brow furrowed slightly.

Did Enid not realize how absurd the notion was? They had stepped into this arrangement with the understanding that it was an experiment-an exploration of feelings that had been lingering unaddressed. But Wednesday was no stranger to the weight of hesitation. She understood why Enid was backpedaling. The prospect of intimacy with her roommate was daunting, even for someone as daring as Wednesday.

"That would defeat the purpose of this experiment," Wednesday replied, her tone cool but softer than usual. "We have already chosen to engage in this ridiculous game. If we back out now, what would that say about us?"

Enid opened her mouth to respond, but Wednesday interrupted, sensing the need to ground the moment. "Besides, if we do not kiss now, we might never get the chance again. I could very well stab the next person who attempts to make a move on me."

Enid's eyes widened slightly, and Wednesday could see the corners of her mouth twitching, as if fighting a smile. The playful threat lightened the mood, if only a little. Enid inhaled deeply, her determination returning.