Finding a balance

Planning and preparation

The thing makes the shrugging motion again. "You find."

"How?"

"Google"

"I guess." Enid says, pulling out her phone, "Dating Wednesday has really messed up my search history." She types 'movies about death' into the search bar and hits enter. To her dismay, most of the movies that pop up are either romance movies about dying teenagers Wednesday would find cheesy, action movies which neither of them would like, or horror movies that enid couldn't stomach. "There's nothing that would work."

Things scurries onto her shoulder and mimes that she should scroll to look at more options. They both begin to lose faith in the movie's plan as time passes. "This isn't working," Enid says. Letting the phone rest beside her. "None of these will work for both of us." Suddenly Thing taps her face and points to the screen excitedly. "What is it." Enid looks down at the screen, which hasn't changed. "I don't think Wednesday is going to like a dramedy," Enid says, referencing the title of the list displayed on the screen.

Thing hops down to select a specific movie on the list. "This one. Heard of it."

"Ok," Enid says skeptically.

"Description, read!" Thing signs.

Enid complies, reading the rotten tomatoes description out loud "Tomboy Vada Sultenfuss has good reason to be morbid: her mother died giving birth to her, and her father operates a funeral service out of their home." She stops reading before she finishes the description. "That could actually work! Where did you hear about this movie?"

"Morticia and Gomez watched in theaters for date." Thing says

"Let's not tell Wednesday that. She'll protest doing anything her parents did."

"Yes." Thing mimes

"She'll be back in a couple of minutes. Can you make up an excuse for me? I need to run to Jerico to grab some supplies.

"Shure"

"I'll be back in at least two hours."

Enid was standing in line for the only cash register in the small grocery store staring at the box of popcorn she had grabbed. At first, she hadn't thought anything of it, she just grabbed butter popcorn from the brand her family always kept at home and moved on, but now that she was looking at it again, she had come to a troubling discovery: It was yellow. And every other candy she had grabbed also had an unacceptable amount of color.

She curses under her breath and slips out of line to return to the candy aisle. With Wednesday in mind, she grabs black licorice, Cookies and cream chocolate, and Oreos. When she can't spot any other black-and-white candy, she moves on to the popcorn. She stares at the array of flavors, all of which have some color added. After scanning them repeatedly, she's about to grab a bag of plain popcorn kernels and pray she can find a way to pop them by Friday when she finally notices one box. Kettle corn-flavored popcorn. The only coloring on the popcorn in the image on the front of the box is tiny specks of black. Enid happily grabs a six-pack and throws it in her basket.

She happily skips back to the cash register and gets back in line. She pulls out her phone as she waits and searches to see what streaming platforms. My girl is on. She doesn't have the one it is on, but it's available for rent and purchase in plenty of other places. She clicks on the first option just as the person before her walks off with their bags. Enid puts her phone away and begins loading the snacks onto the conveyor belt.

"Did you find everything alright?" The cashier asks in a bubbly voice, not looking at enid as they tap away at the screen on their cash register.

"Yes," Enid says, matching their energy. "How's your day?"

"Great, How abou..." when the cashier turns to look at Enid, her face falls, and she freezes. "You're from Nevermoor." She says flatly, grabbing the first item but never letting her eyes leave Enid.

"Yes, mam," Enid says politely, trying to save the encounter.

"They told us you were only allowed out on the weekends."

"They have a bus that brings us into town on the weekends, but if we're willing to walk, we can make the trek to town as long as we don't have any responsibilities on campus." Enid lies.

"Perfect, we have to deal with you all week." The woman says, not even trying to hide her disdain."

"It's pretty far; most people just wait for the bus."

"And you just couldn't wait to get a bunch of candy, could you." The woman says as she scans the last of Enid's items.

"I need them for Friday," Enid says, not wanting to give too much information to the woman.

"Alright, that'll be twenty-two seventy-three." Enid pulls a twenty and a five out of her pocket and hands them over quickly. "Have a lovely day." The cashier says with a sneer on her face, clearly resentful of the mandatory phrase.

"You too," Enid says, grabbing her bags and hastily walking out of the store and out of the uncomfortable conversations. She was relieved no one had been behind her in line to witness it, especially if they would have acted like the cashier too.

Once the automatic doors slide closed behind her, she runs over a bench at normie speeds and stuffs the grocery bags into her backpack, so she can easily carry them back to campus with her. She hikes the bag back onto her back and runs into the nearby forest towards Nevermoor.

As soon as she slips out of eyesight of the town, Enid ramps up her speed. Ever since her first transformation, she's been able to run faster than before, even in human form, though she's always fastest when she wolfs out. As the contents of her bag thump against her back, she just prays that Wednesday doesn't question why she was out or what's in the bag when she returns.

AN:

Constructive criticism is always appreciated.