Strange Case of Addams and Hyde

Altogether Ooky

Wednesday watches Xavier closely as he slumps into one of Weems' chairs. Thornhill was starting between the both of them, Sheriff Galpin making his uncomfortable presence known, clearing his throat. "So, Mr. Thorpe, Miss. Addams." He says Wednesday's surname with a sour expression. "What were you doing in the woods, hm? Let alone spreading false information about your classmate."

"He was my friend." Xavier sits up in the chair, his hands on either armrest, knuckles whitening. "And we weren't lying, Sheriff."

Donavan's jaw tenses and his eyes narrow, as if Xavier had done something to him personally. "No need to get hostile, Mr. Thorpe. I know you yuppie types, liars, the lot of ya."

"That's enough, Sheriff." Thornhill cuts in - Weems is nowhere to be seen today - hands clasped on the desk. "Just... Just keep it professional, hm? They're still children."

He draws back, still scowling, and he speaks through clenched teeth. "That's all I need from the both of you. Off to class."

"Sheriff-"

"Wednesday." Xavier interrupts, head hung long. "Just forget it, yeah? It's not like some normie Sheriff cares what happens to any of us."

"Rowan! You're back!" Thornhill smiles. Wait, what?

There he is in all his nervous, nerdy glory, a police officer behind him. He looks fine. Too fine. No scratches or bruises, no guilty or sad expression of being caught, just nothing. "This the kid you're lookin' for, Sheriff?"

"I'm not lying, Kinbott."

"Wednesday," She hates how soft her therapist is talking to her. I mean, she thinks Wednesday is going crazy, just like everybody else. "I know a new school is tough, I get that, I do." Does she? "I just want to understand what made you think you saw that."

God, not this condescending tone again. Wednesday was fifteen, not five. "Hmm, let me think. Maybe someone dying in front of me is why I think I saw someone get murdered." Wednesday snarked. "Rowan died not even a meter away from me. I'm not lying about this. I wouldn't."

"So, um, Enid Sinclair?" What about her? "She was with you that night, yes? Are you two close?"

"We just met," Wednesday said flatly. Kinbott was waiting for more. "She's good company."

"That's what I like to hear."

Wednesday bumps in Tyler while on her way out of Mental Torture Central. "Hiya, Flatlander!" She's starting to think he's just forgotten her name. "You see Dr. Kinbott too?"

"It's a legal requirement." Oh, he's following her. "Yes."

"Me too!" He smiles, bumping his elbow against her arm. "Court ordered."

"Look at us, a couple of teenage tearaways." She stops walking and turns her head in his direction. She wondered what some small-town, boy-next-door, bordering-on country bumpkin did to get court-ordered therapy. You don't see a lot of baristas with a side job of crime. Well, her uncle Fester was a barista for a while, and her cousin Itt was too.

"I heard what happened after you ran away." He says. Great, another person is here to tell her she's delusional. "Don't listen to my dad, okay? I believe you, Wednesday."

Oh.

"Ladies, come on!" Enid is gripping Yoko's shoulder so tight she could dislocate it. "Let's work on those teeth! More scowl!"

"Would you calm down?" Yoko looks up at Enid through her sunglasses. "You're gonna wolf out from stress." She chuckles.

"No, Yoko! This kitty is taking no - zero, nada - prisoners!" At least she had passion. Most people had already accepted their fate of losing to Bianca. "If Bianca Barclay wins again this year, I will literally claw my own eyes out!"

"I'd pay money to see that."

Deep breaths, Enid. Deep breaths.

"Howdy, roomie!"

"Hello, Enid." Wednesday peeks over Enid's shoulder at the boat, more specifically Yoko. Hm. "What's going on over here? You look a few seconds away from popping a blood vessel."

"So do you." She points out Wednesday's rather tense demeanor. "Is it 'cause of this whole Rowan sitch?"

"He was dead, I saw it."

"Woah, woah." Enid puts her hands on either side of Wednesday's arms, giving her a little squeeze. "I know you did, Wednesday. I'm not saying I don't believe you, kay?" The seer nods. "It's just- We saw him alive and well today. Very much, like, not dead."

"I know." That's what she didn't get - how? "Maybe I'm going insane."

"Sure. Going." Enid smirks.

"Are you insinuating that I'm already insane, Sinclair?" Wednesday raises a brow in turn.

"Maybe I am, Addams." She feels something weird in her stomach but chooses to ignore it. Perhaps all this sun is getting to her. "Anypop, what're you doing out here? Shouldn't you be brooding all sweetly in a corner?"

"That's more of an evening activity." Wednesday was feeding into every gothic stereotype there was. "I just need your help, that's all."

"Hm?"

"What do you know about Rowan?" Wednesday asks. She figured, given that Enid somehow knew everything about everyone all of the time, she'd be the best person to go to. It was rather impressive, like being friends with her own personal spy. "As self-appointed gossip queen, you must know something, hm?"

"Gosh, yeah, kinda." Enid narrows her eyes, mentally scrolling through her endless files on people. "He's kind of a weird loner, Xavier Thorpe's roommate, likes Star Wars and allegedly writes fanfiction. Oh, and he's allergic to gluten." Okay, that was... minimally helpful. If you could even say that.

"Thank you, Enid." She turns to leave but something stops her. "Wait."

Enid turns from where she's blabbering to Yoko about the boat's paint job. She skips on back over, less pep in her step than usual. Weird. "Yeah?"

"Are you alright?"

The blonde's brows raise, followed by a sweet smile. "Yeah, Yeah, I'm good. The Poe Cup is just st-r-ess-ful." She picked up on Wednesday's puzzled expression before she could even ask what that was. "The Poe Cup is my only reason for living, btdubs. Part canoe chase, part foot chase, no rules! Each dorm has to pick an Edgar Allen Poe poem for insp. We - Ophelia Hall - picked The Black Cat. Apollo Hall picked The Cask of Amontillado; Eris Hall picked, um, The Gold Bug; and Helios Hall picked The Pit and The Pendulum." Wow. It was a rather intriguing concept - if only Wednesday didn't have other plans.

"You wanna help paint the boat?" Enid gestures for a paintbrush sitting on a paint can, yellow paint dripping onto the grass. "Ms. Thornhill just ordered pizza. C'mon, take a stab at being social." Admittedly, Wednesday was a little shy, she would go weeks without speaking if given the chance.

"I do like stabbing." Wednesday nods shortly. "But It'll cut into my writing time I'm afraid."

"No worries. Just as long as you're lakeside cheering us to victory on race day!" Maybe Wednesday would.

Okay, probably not.

...Definitely not.

"Or you can just glare uncomfortably. Whatever works for you." Enid winks at her.

Enid winks at her.