Chapter Text
Larissa could not believe that this was actually happening. After all these years. She was coming back. Morticia Addams was coming back.
Principal Weems did not know what to feel. Should she be happy? Angry? Unbothered? She only knew one thing: that she was absolutely not ready to see her old roommate again. But she had to do it, it was her job. And there was no way Larissa would neglect her job over that woman.
After what had felt like hours of pacing, staring into the void and failing at concentrating on other tasks, Larissa finally caught a glimpse of a dark car entering the school’s campus. It was her, she was certain of it. The vehicle’s sinister exterior fit perfectly the Addams’ characteristic style. Her throat tightened at the thought of truly seeing the couple—and their daughter—in person. Remaining bitterness from events from long ago began to rise up, unpleasantly bringing up memories of her time as a student of Nevermore. But she quickly dismissed it, concentrating on what actually mattered: the new student who would soon be joining in. That was what was important. Not decades-old problems.
Through the window of her office, Larissa watched as the family exited their car, Gomez holding out his hand to his wife tenderly, Morticia smiling at him. At the sight of the dark woman, the principal realized there was one thing she had not thought about. Her old roommate could’ve only gotten prettier with time—if it was even possible to look more beautiful than what she had looked like in high school. It was a minor detail, really, but somehow it made Larissa even more anxious. Larissa could not begin to imagine what she would be like before her, sitting in one of the empty chairs in front of her desk. At least for once, the principal would have some sort of power over the other woman. After all this time.
She sighed loudly and smoothed her beige dress, and made sure her hair was still in its perfect updo. She could hardly deny the fact that she wanted to make a good impression. She wanted to look like she had her shit together. Like she was not still bitter after three decades. The first part was true. Larissa knew what she was doing. She was incredibly good at her job. The second part less so. Actually, it was completely false. A deep feeling of hatred still resided deep in Larissa’s heart—and some other strong feelings too, but those she was not yet ready to accept. She took a deep breath, and calmly sat at her nice desk, clasping her hands before her. She practiced the kind but professional smile she used almost everyday, and finally accepted that there was nothing more she could do to be more prepared.
But the instant Morticia—and Gomez and Wednesday—stepped in her office, she wished she had done something more before. Anything to have lessened the knot that had immediately formed in her stomach. It was undeniable. Her old roommate was even prettier than she had been in high school, and that was staying a lot, because she had been absolutely stunning. The way she walked was graceful, light, her dark hair fell down her shoulders like a delicate waterfall, her hands were adorned by the classic long black nails that looked pretty and somehow dangerous at the same time. She was wearing a tight long mermaid gown with a long train that highlighted her perfect curves. And her face. The small wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, the dark lips, the long eyelashes. The smile. Still the same smile.
Gomez, well, he was just as unremarkable as before. And the daughter. She looked a lot like her parents. She had that characteristic strange look in her big eyes. A dangerous essence radiated off of her. At that, Larissa knew that this was the perfect school for her. Nevermore, as nice as it was, was also pretty weird, and she was sure that the young Wednesday Addams—as unhappy as she looked now—would find it interesting.
Larissa was having a hard time breathing through the raw hate. But she was a professional. She kept her calm and controlled facade and welcome the couple as if everything was good and well. Morticia did the same, except she sounded genuinely happy to see her old… friend after all these years. Though the voice of now Mrs. Addams had brought back even more memories than the principal had expected, she got to business without skipping a beat, as fast as possible, appearing unfazed from the exterior.
They discussed for a few minutes that felt like two seconds and two hours at the same time. Larissa was worried that she was acting a bit overly enthusiastic. Yes, she was excited to have a new student, as she truly loved this school, and was convinced that the young Addams would fit right in, but she was not as hyped to have her parents here. Especially since Wednesday’s dorm was the very one she had shared with Morticia more than three decades ago. But the other woman sounded so happy to bring back those memories that Larissa forgot for a moment that she was stressed out.
It turned out to be not as bad as she thought. She made sure to be quick in the explanations and it left little to no time to chat with the couple. The fact that they displayed their affection so… openly still hurt, but she was strong. She could get over a bit of pain. Gomez and Morticia finally went back to their car while Wednesday was given a tour of the school, talking and whispering affectionate words to each other, reflecting on their past experiences in these very halls. And Larissa was finally left alone.
She took an actual breath and crumpled down in her chair, exhausted by the mental effort of the events. She tried to fully relax, to let her mind drift away to her work and forget, but she was simply incapable of doing so. She kept blaming herself for being so unreasonable. It had been years, why was she still reacting so intensely? Obviously, it was because the wound had never really healed and had only been ignored and tucked away in a small corner, but Larissa could not bring herself to admit that. She would continue to guilt-trip herself endlessly—or until she pushed back that situation to its dark corner. Like she was used to do.
At some point she succeeded at drowning the bad thoughts out with her work, focusing on writing emails and cleaning her inbox, but deep down she knew they would be coming back whenever she would have to talk the the new student. The kid reminded her too much of her mother.
The weeks passed, Wednesday started getting in trouble, which was infuriating, but Larissa began to grow attached to the young Addams. She was very witty, smart, and independent, but also inevitably a big pain in the ass. And the principal had been right. Every time Wednesday did something, or just talked, she was reminded of Morticia. It was almost unbearable.
One evening, after having yelled at Wednesday for getting in trouble, Larissa found herself looking through the old 1990 yearbook that she kept in her library. She recognized most of the faces, though some of the memories were blurry. But she had not pulled this book to reminisce about the other random students that had had no impact on her life whatsoever. No, it was precisely for something that she had felt like doing for some time. She drifted trough the dusty pages and found what she had been looking for. The small black-and-white picture of Morticia Frump, standing there, smiling in her uniform.
Larissa took a sip of wine and, with a grin of satisfaction, she ripped out the specific page and threw it into the fire. She watched carefully as the paper burned and the image was no longer distinguishable. A strong feeling of satisfaction filled her. It was not revenge, but it was still something. It still let out some of that anger, that terrible anger that Larissa had bottled up. If she had had more yearbooks, she would have burned all the pages with Morticia’s name on it, but unfortunately she did not have access to any of those. Only her own copy.
For a moment, that act calmed the flames of wrath inside of her—and also disguised those flames as only made of anger, and nothing else. It was nice. For a good month, she did not think about her old roommate at all. Everyone noticed how the principal seemed more… chill. Though, like all things, this peace of mind had to end.