Archive of Our Own

The very moment that Wednesday gained consciousness and could recognize that she was a sentient being was the same moment that she learned that a little white lie every now and again didn’t hurt anyone. 

When she was small, she would lie about trivial things to get herself out of the hot seat; baby Pugsley definitely got himself trapped inside a coffin in a freak accident, an urn filled to the brim with a family member’s ashes definitely fell off the mantle and got all over Wednesday’s hands, that stray black cat definitely chose to follow her home from school and definitely wasn’t scooped up against its will. 

Her parents, Grandmama, and especially Uncle Fester all laughed it off. She never meant any real harm by any of it. Sometimes she just wanted to play in her own twisted way. It certainly wasn’t Legos and Barbies, but it was still playful, and maybe they did let her get away with murder—almost in the literal sense of the word—a little too much, but Gomez couldn’t resist his child’s happiness, and Morticia only wanted Wednesday to feel something that wasn’t pure hatred. 

And maybe, just maybe, now that she is much older and should have a built-in moral compass, the lying is starting to rear its ugly head. Now that Wednesday is almost legally allowed to vote—mortifying to think about, if you were to ask her parents—and Enid is almost all-seeing as her live-in roommate with a nose for gossip and a very privy radar for detecting lies, lying is starting to get complicated. 

Complicated, or rather, annoying. 

“Why don’t you wanna come to the lake with me and Divina?” Enid asks for the fourth time this morning. “I need a real answer. You don’t have anything planned this afternoon, and after all the shit that has gone down with you in the past, I dunno, seventeen years or so, you owe yourself a real break. Have some fun for once in your life, even if it’s not actually your type of fun. Relax. Take a breather from all this awful stuff happening to you.”

Wednesday looks up from her book. “You just said several words that do not describe me in the slightest. Fun, relax, a breather.”

Enid sighs and plucks through her myriad of swimsuits. “Okay, yeah. I did. But…just one time? It’s warmer than usual today even though it’s cloudy. Ya know, global warming.”

“You can go without me,” Wednesday says. “Remember what I said. Don’t let me hold you back. Cut me loose and go run with the pack.”

“One, Divina is not technically in my pack; she’s a siren,” Enid reminds as she holds up a bright pink swimsuit. “Two, I’m asking you to join us because that’s what a good friend does.”

Sensing that Enid isn’t done rambling about this, Wednesday prompts her with a small nod. 

“And three?” she asks with concerned eyes.

“And three,” Enid sharply inhales like it’s painful, “I…I just want you to come with me. Is that a crime?”

“Maybe,” Wednesday retorts. “Depends on the intent.”

“There’s no intent,” Enid says, folding her arms. “I get that you’re introverted and would rather stab yourself in the eyeball with a white hot poker than be near people, but Divina is gonna swim away once she’s in siren form. It’ll just be me. All alone. By myself. If you join me, it’ll just be us. No one will bother us.”

Wednesday considers it, genuinely, for a moment, and then she pauses. There is an uncomfortable silence that settles upon the room. She clutches her book to her chest like it’s a child and looks at Enid with such seriousness in her eyes. Enid stares back, expectant. 

“I can’t swim,” she says.

Enid doesn’t say anything for a moment. She seems confused or simply hard of hearing, and then she makes a strange sound.

“What?” she asks. “What about the Poe Cup? You literally told me you could swim!”

“Incredible luck and a canoe,” Wednesday replies. “Thing did the swimming.”

A disappointed look crosses Enid’s face. “So you lied to me?”

Wednesday exhales in a vain attempt to control her breathing. She purses her lips and takes a moment to properly think, and then she looks Enid in her baby blues.

“Yes,” she admits. “I lied about it.”  

Dumbfounded, Enid shakes her head. “I don’t get it. How do you not know how to swim at your big age? You know how to hot-wire a car!”

“You’re comparing two entirely different things,” Wednesday says. She’s quiet again, thinking in earnest. “My father attempted to teach me when I was little. It terrified him more than just a marginal amount. I refused to cooperate or wear the floatation devices. He tried teaching me to at least float, but the feeling of the water entering my ears made my head spin, and I might have had some kind of tantrum over it. Let’s just say, Tyler throwing me out of a window was not the first time I’ve ever hit my head. Although, it was the first time I’ve been in a coma.”

Enid’s mouth opens and closes a few times. She scratches the back of her neck and tries to think of something to say that won’t sound like she’s making fun of Wednesday’s poor life skills. 

“So you got overstimulated and hit your head. Might’ve been intentional for the sake of getting out of swim lessons, knowing how extreme you are, but okay,” Enid eventually says with a shrug. And then she grins so big it might hurt. “I have an idea.”

Wednesday slumps over. “Here we go.” 

“I can teach you to swim!” Enid exclaims. “But we can totally go at your pace. No pressure or tantrums. We can go slow so you don’t get overwhelmed.” 

“My pace would be to not learn at all,” Wednesday says with conviction. “I have lived seventeen years without it. I don’t need it. You’re wasting your time.”

Enid pouts at her and gives her the puppy eyes. Damn those eyes!

“What if an accident happens? You were literally just in a coma, like, recently,” Enid says, gesturing to nothing. “And I get that it wasn’t your fault and you were the victim there, but drowning is very common and actually extremely preventable just by knowing how to swim. One little slip and you could be…gone.”

She’s quiet when she says the last part, but Wednesday hears it loud and clear. 

“Enid, I’m more likely to be attacked by a hyena than I am to drown,” Wednesday attempts to assure. “You don’t need to worry about me. I’m aware of my surroundings and don’t often touch bodies of water. Drowning is for weaklings who can’t gauge situations properly.”

Enid folds her arms and pops out an annoying hip. She huffs at Wednesday and widens her eyes.

“Well, when I was a kid, my cousin died at eight years old because her parents never taught her to swim. They said she would be okay without swim lessons because they live in bumfuck nowhere Nebraska and didn’t own a pool,” she says pretentiously. “Well, she never went back to bumfuck nowhere Nebraska, because she drowned at the beach while visiting my family in California. So there, Wednesday. It’s serious.”

Wednesday feels a frog in her throat. She tries so hard not to give in to Enid’s demands and pleading, but now, staring at her with a gleam of tears in her pretty eyes, Wednesday almost feels terrible.

“I think I’m supposed to offer my condolences,” she tells Enid, who gives her an incredulous look. “But I will elect to pass.”

“Yeah, you’ll pass alright.” Enid walks closer to her. “You’ll pass away. And I’m not gonna let that happen to you if I can help it. I don’t wanna lose you. I almost did once or twice, and it was so fucking scary.” 

Sighing softly, Wednesday closes her book and sets it aside. Her eyes meet Enid’s, so soft and much more kinder than she normally provides the world with. 

“If I make one attempt to learn, will you leave me be even if I fail at it and decide to never pursue it again?” Wednesday offers. “I’d much rather chew off the skin of my toes and eat it raw.”

Enid noticeably perks up. “Really? You wanna try?” 

“I didn’t say anything about want,” Wednesday corrects. “But, if you feel this is imperative to your sanity, I will. And also so you will get off my back.” 

That warm grin returns again, and Enid jumps up and down. Wednesday inwardly cringes when an overwhelming sense of awe overcomes her. 

“Finally, I convinced you!” Enid cheers, clapping her hands like a toddler. 

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Wednesday quickly reprimands. “This is on my terms, not yours.” 

Even with the stipulations, Enid blatantly agrees with a nod, because of course she would. Excitement always clouds Enid’s judgment, and Wednesday both hates and loves that quality about her.

“Do you even have a swimsuit?” Enid asks. “I mean, you could borrow one of mine if not. Might be a bit awkward-fitting, but it could work.”

“You share them with Divina, and I am uncomfortable with sharing undergarments with someone I’m unfamiliar with,” she replies. “I have one in my closet.” 

“I only share the tops with her, but I guess if that’s where your boundary lies.” Enid shrugs. “Two o’clock. We’ll go down to the lake. Unless you’d prefer to go down to the swimming pool during free swim hours at three. It’s a more controlled environment and has a shallow end. Less risky.” 

Wednesday considers it for a minute. “I prefer the lake. I’d prefer that no one witnesses me flopping around in the water like a dying fish.” 

“Are you being…insecure?” Enid asks quietly. “Wednesday Addams? Insecure about being watched?” 

“Shut it or I’m changing my mind,” Wednesday warns. “And you are not going to force me to wear sun cream.”

Enid grabs a bottle of Coppertone from her nearby backpack and waves it in Wednesday’s face. 

“Too late!” she says. “Skin cancer is real and it kills. You’re wearing the sunscreen.” 

“No I’m not,” Wednesday protests. “No sun cream or I’m not going.”

“You are such a baby,” Enid giggles, and then she sighs. “But I guess if that makes you happy.”

“Happy?” Wednesday raises an eyebrow. “No such thing. Satisfied, maybe. But never happy.” 

Enid snorts. “I really love you, Wednesday Addams.” 

A stiff silence falls over them. Enid’s cheeks are bright pink and Wednesday is staring at her with an unfamiliar fondness in her big brown eyes, like she’s never seen someone so pretty. 

Finally, Enid clears her throat and gives Wednesday a sheepish smile. 

“So…two o’clock?” she meekly asks. 

Wednesday nods, feeling abnormally warm and safe inside. “I suppose so.”

—

Two o’clock comes around faster than Wednesday could have anticipated, and by then, Enid is already in her own pink and orange bikini, covered up by a pair of soft Nevermore gym shorts and an oversized t-shirt. 

And then there’s Wednesday; wearing a black one-piece swimsuit that still had the tags on it when she fished it out of the depths of her closet, underneath a black-and-white sweatshirt and black shorts. She changed inside of her closet while Enid took the center of their room, being careful not to accidentally get a glimpse of something she shouldn’t see. 

“Divina will meet us there,” Enid tells Wednesday as she pockets her cellphone. “She got caught up with Kent. He lost his marbles.”

“Well, he can be a little scatterbrained,” Wednesday passively says. “What does that have to do with Divina?”

“No, I mean he literally lost his marble collection that his grandpa gave him,” Enid says. “He thinks one of the kids is pranking him by stealing his stuff. Or that there is a ghost. Really, the ghost, not so much the kids. She’s trying to calm him down. He’s terrified of ghosts.” 

“You have unique friends,” Wednesday comments. She looks at the analog clock sitting on her nightstand. “Are you ready to torture me?”

“Am I ready to help potentially save your life?” Enid corrects. “Yes. I have everything we need.”

“I’m not wearing a flotation device, so you can leave that here,” Wednesday grumps and scowls at the Nevermore swim team bag slung over Enid’s shoulder. “And I’m not wearing sun cream.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, Wednesday,” Enid says, waving her off, but she’s smiling. “You’re so tough, even the sun is scared of you.”

Wednesday crosses her arms. “I’m serious.”

“So am I,” Enid replies. “I’m just bringing extra clothes and towels and water. And my own sunscreen, since the princess of darkness herself doesn’t need it.” 

Wednesday hopes that Enid’s werewolf ears can’t hear her heart beating out of her chest. It’s been so long since she’s been in a body of water, excluding the Poe Cup. She doesn’t appreciate the feeling of water running over her skin or in her ears. She would much rather be waterboarded. At least that’s a controlled activity that feels pleasurable. 

“My own pace, remember?” Wednesday asks, but it’s more of a demand.

Enid nods, still smiling. “Yeah. I’m not gonna push you. I’m all about consent.”

Wednesday feels herself relax a little. Enid has saved her life once or twice, and she knows that there is no rational reason to feel so nervous about it, but she can’t help but to worry. She isn’t familiar with worry. Worry is for psychologically traumatized people and hopeless romantics. 

“Let’s go,” Enid says, drawing her out of her awkward trance. “We’re gonna have fun. Or whatever your kind of fun is.”

Fun, Wednesday thinks. How awful. But at least I am with Enid. 

—

Fortunately, no one else is at the lake when they arrive after a long walk wherein Enid rambled Wednesday’s ears off about anything and everything. Wednesday was only half-listening to her, too busy reverting back to the phantom sensation is water swirling around in her ears to worry about whatever Enid was talking about. 

Enid selects an isolated corner of the water to drop her belongings in the dirt. Wednesday is standing as far away as she can from the water without making her discomfort so palpable to Enid. It seems to be working in her favor, because Enid doesn’t mention the frown on her face or the way she’s awkwardly rubbing her sweaty palms against her shorts. 

“We’ll go slow,” Enid reassures as she’s pulling her shirt over her head to reveal her bikini top. “Your pace.”

Wednesday swallows at the sight of Enid removing her top layer of clothing. Once the shorts are in a heap in the dirt, Enid is left in an equally blinding bikini bottom the color of Pepto Bismol. If a conservative were around, they’d complain that such a swimsuit is much too revealing and inappropriate for a young woman Enid’s age, but fortunately, Wednesday is absolutely no conservative; in fact, she rather enjoys what she sees. 

Stop thinking that way, Wednesday, she inwardly scolds herself. 

“Hellooooo,” Enid emphasizes and waves a hand in Wednesday’s blank face. “Are you there?”

Wednesday shakes away the thought and actually blinks to dispel it. 

“Of course,” Wednesday replies. “No need to be so dramatic.”

Enid is putting her clothes in her bag and spraying on her sun cream, looking up at Wednesday from a crouched position on the ground. She smiles brightly at her.

“You spaced out,” she tells Wednesday. “It’s okay to be nervous, you know. I was scared, too. The water looks really big and scary, but it feels better when you have someone you trust with you.”

“Scared?” Wednesday scoffs. “Hardly. I’m a little maddened that I’m here, in this terrible weather, on a weekend, when I could be writing or playing my cello. But scared? Absolutely not.”

Enid rubs a strange stick of sun cream over her cheeks and massages it into her cheekbones and forehead. She stands up and takes off her shoes, testing out the water with her toes. 

“Well, are you gonna take off your clothes or not?” Enid asks. She giggles to herself. “That sounded nasty.” 

Wednesday has to roll her eyes at the immaturity as she’s hesitantly removing her sweatshirt. She has to muster up a lot of courage to tug down her shorts and kick them away somewhere in the dirt. Her shoes come off next, much more neatly than Enid’s, and she sets them against a tree as she throws glances at Enid. 

At first, Enid is too busy admiring the minnows and other weird sea creatures that inhabit the lake water to notice that Wednesday has finally stripped down to just her simple black swimsuit that almost feels too small for her, but then she looks up. 

“I know black is your entire aesthetic, and I love that for you, but I kinda wish you would’ve worn one of my bright swimsuits,” Enid comments. “Easier to spot when you’re underwater.”

Wednesday scowls. “My terms, Enid.” 

“Right,” she blatantly agrees and walks over to Wednesday, who’s wrapped her arms around her midsection. “Hey. You don’t have to be so nervous. I promise I won’t let anything bad happen to you.” 

“I don’t care about drowning, Enid,” she mutters, unconfident. “That’s silly.”

“Then what’s wrong?” Enid’s expression is sympathetic and forgiving as it softens. “Are you afraid of getting overstimulated and, like, crashing out on me or something? Because I’m not worried about your reaction to stuff. I can handle it. I know you’ve got the ‘tism, and I respect that. We’ll go slow.”

Admittedly, Wednesday doesn’t know what “the ‘tism” means, and she’s not going to ask right now, but she is confused by her own feelings. Ever since she gained consciousness as a human being on this awful floating rock, emotions have befuddled her. Sometimes she can’t differentiate between anger and dread, or indifference or emptiness. Emotions are for weak people, anyway. 

“I’m not afraid,” she says to Enid, but she’s hardly convincing. “The sun is giving me blisters. I can feel it.”

Enid sympathetically nods and then eagerly points to something over Wednesday’s shoulder. “Pugsley has your doll!”

Wednesday immediately whips around with her fists clenched, and then a cold mist lays over her exposed skin. She doesn’t see anyone around, and by the time she realizes that she’s been tricked, she’s covered in a generous layer of spray-on sun cream. 

“How dare you, Enid,” she grumbles at her. “I told you that I did not want that. You are overstepping boundaries I have set. I should pack up and go back to our room.”

She goes to pick up her clothes, but Enid quickly grabs her arm and gently tugs at her.

“No, wait!” she apologetically exclaims as she’s trying to coax Wednesday back to her. “I’m sorry. I know that was a boundary, but I take skincare and UV protection very seriously because the sun is very bad for your skin. That’s my boundary. Sun protection, always. I promise I won’t do anything else to bother you. We can do whatever you want from now on.”

Wednesday’s skin feels sticky and prickly. She can feel the excess sun cream running a trail down her legs. Her heart is still slamming against her rib cage, but that has nothing to do with the fact that she’s surely going to have an allergic reaction to whatever chemical concoction Enid just sprayed her with and everything to do with the fact that Enid is touching her. 

“One more chance, Enid,” she warns in a bated breath. “If you do something I don’t like again, I’m leaving.”

Enid nods in earnest. “Okay. I’m sorry I attacked you with sunscreen.” 

It’s most definitely not okay for Wednesday, but she’s going to have to move past it if she wants to get this afternoon over with, and so she readily forgives Enid for her behavior. 

“Let’s move on,” she demands, brushing past Enid and standing at the edge of the lake. “What are you going to force me to do first?”

Enid joins her at her side. “Nothing. I’m not holding you hostage here. But, if you mean, what is the first step, it’s actually getting into the water.” She steps into the water and wades up to her knees. “I picked this spot because it’s way more shallow than the other end. This is a good place for a beginner. The other end is, like, ten feet deep. That’s two of you.”

Wednesday eyes the water with uncertainty. It’s clearer than she thought it would be. She can see little fish and rocks and pebbles and algae. It’s unappealing, really, but it’ll have to do. 

“Step in and walk until the water touches your knees,” Enid calmly instructs when Wednesday makes no effort to move. “Take it slow.”

“I’m not afraid of water, Enid,” she mutters as she steps into the lake. The water is fairly cold, as expected in Vermont, and feels nice against her staticky skin. “If I see anything nefarious floating in this water, swimming lessons are done for today.” 

“It’s clean, Wednesday.” Enid rolls her eyes. “Drama queen.”

Ignoring the remark, Wednesday sinks further into the water until it touches her shaky knees. Enid stays nearby, filtering the water through her fingers as she watches Wednesday try to acclimate herself to the sudden change in environment. 

“How does it feel?” Enid asks Wednesday after a few minutes of watching Wednesday trying to hold herself together. She’s slowly but surely floating away, inch by inch. “Good? Bad?”

“Indifferent,” Wednesday ultimately decides. She sharply inhales and frowns at Enid. “Why are you moving away from me?”

“Was hoping you didn’t notice,” Enid replies. She digs her feet into the sediment under her once the water is waist-level. “Do you wanna come closer? It feels good.” 

Wednesday, in fact, does not want to get any closer. She would rather do anything but this, but she feels stuck and helpless. She can’t turn back now. It’s like something is keeping her grounded here, or maybe Enid has a wicked gravitational pull to her, because she finds herself walking closer until the water is at her hips. 

“See?” Enid asks, excitedly gesturing to Wednesday. “You’re getting there.”

“Something feels strange around my ankles,” Wednesday tells her, trying not to panic. 

“It’s just the fish,” Enid promises. “I feel them, too. They don’t bite.”

“Piranhas,” Wednesday blandly comments.

Enid’s head tilts. “Huh?”

Wednesday shakes her head like she’s having unpleasantly happy thoughts.

“Nothing,” she tells Enid. “What now?”

“How much do you know?” Enid asks. “Swimming, I mean.”

Wednesday halfheartedly shrugs. “Minimal. This is out of the ordinary for me.”

Understanding how awkward this must be for her, Enid draws closer to Wednesday. She remains at a comfortable distance from her and extends her arms like she’s inviting Wednesday to embrace her. 

“First, you have to learn to float,” she tells Wednesday. “That way, if you happen to fall into water, your instinct is to flip onto your back and float. Even if you can’t swim, floating is easy and can save your life.”

Wednesday’s mouth feels dry. Floating didn’t go so well the first time she was taught how, and she doesn’t foresee it improving, even with someone as experienced in swimming as Enid. 

“I can’t float,” she says honestly. 

“Which is why I’m gonna help you,” Enid says with a promising smile as she holds out her open palms. “I promised that this is your pace. So do you want me to guide you to float, or do you want me to just tell you what to do and you can try on your own?”

“The latter,” Wednesday says, only because she doesn’t want Enid to feel her heart racing. “Instruct me.”

“I’ll demonstrate first,” Enid says. “Watch and learn.”

Suddenly Enid lets herself tilt all the way back and lays flat on her back in the water with her arms sprawled out above her head and her legs out like a starfish. The water submerges her ears, and Wednesday has to wince. 

“See?” Enid says as the water carries her away. “I’m floating. I’m not even trying.”

Wednesday’s instincts take over when Enid is floating too far away from her. She jerks a hand out to grab her and misses, but then Enid turns over in the water and stands back up in the shallow end, shaking water off like a dog after a bath.

“Wanna try?” Enid asks her. 

“Hardly, but I’m already here, so I suppose,” she grumbles, bitterly succumbing to her fate. “What do I do?”

Enid smiles almost in relief. “I’m not gonna touch you. I’ll just tell you.”

“I’d appreciate that,” Wednesday admits, and it’s groundbreaking, because she hardly ever appreciates anything. “I’m not going to drown.”

“Sure,” Enid says with a giggle. “Okay, first, you can’t be tense or curled up. To float, you need to take up a lot of space and stretch out so the water can hold you. So, tilt your head back a little until it’s in line with your spine.” 

Wednesday looks up at the murky gray sky overhead. A storm must be brewing, and she halfway wants a downpour to cut her lesson short. 

“Let your body go now,” Enid instructs. “Tilt straight back, like you’re falling, and let the water pick you up. Don’t slouch your shoulders or curl up, even if you feel like you need to. It’ll make you sink.”

Wednesday pretends to fall backwards a little too fast. The water splashes over her face and she can feel it rushing into her ear canals. Her entire body tightens up like a spool of thread and she feels herself sinking. Her first instinct is to flail about and grasp onto nothing, all the bad memories are flooding back just like the water in her ears. 

Her right hand catches onto something smooth and warm. She’s able to hook a desperate finger below some fabric, and she quickly comes to the realization that she’s grasping onto Enid’s bikini top.

“Easy, Wednesday,” Enid quietly says. “I’ve gotcha.”

She doesn’t believe Enid at first, because she still feels like she’s going to sink to the bottom of the lake, but then she feels warm, familiar hands under her shoulders and back steadying her. Suddenly, she’s plucked out of the water and helped to stand in the shallow end. 

“You don’t like water in your face,” Enid notates as she’s manipulating Wednesday’s limbs so she’s standing on her own feet and won’t fall over. “Got it.”

It takes an oddly long time for Wednesday to realize that she’s trembling. She glares at the water as if it wronged her, a subtle pout on her face. She tries to keep her body still so the shaking is less obvious, but even wrapping her arms around herself makes it even more prominent.

“I know you don’t like to be touched, but I’m going to help you this time,” Enid sympathetically says. “But I’ll wait for you to calm down.”

“I’m calm,” Wednesday fibs disdainfully. “Just cold.”

“Hm, sure,” Enid says, halfway uncertain. “Ready?”

Wednesday goes to say no, but she would give anything for this to be over, and so she nods. Enid is great about not pushing her—literally or figuratively—and guides her a little further into the water so it’s line with her hips, and then she plants one firm palm between Wednesday’s nervous shoulders. Surprisingly, she welcomes the familiarity. 

“Lean back now,” Enid instructs. “Slowly. Take it easy.” 

Sucking in a breath, Wednesday looks up at the sky again and lifts her feet as she leans back against Enid’s hand. Like she’s rotating on her own axis, she ends up flat on her back with her ears slightly submerged, but it’s not overwhelmingly bad. She stretches her legs out the way Enid did and lets her arms loose at her sides.

“Relax,” Enid softly tells her. “Chest out, take a deep breath.”

Wednesday inhales and exhales a few times, feeling herself become weightless. Enid’s hand slips away from her and she immediately tenses again but doesn’t start flailing. She’s learned that flailing doesn’t help the situation. 

“You’re floating,” Enid excitedly announces. “Wednesday, you’re floating! All by yourself!” 

“I know.” She’s short because she might die if she shows any kind of emotion. “I feel it.”

“Good job,” Enid happily praises, following Wednesday as she absentmindedly drifts away. “Wait, don’t go too far without me.”

“I’m not trying,” Wednesday tells her, keeping her vision focused on the sky. “I’m just laying here.”

Enid stays within a safe distance but doesn’t touch Wednesday or make any real attempt to assist her if she doesn’t need it. She keeps her arms out, just in case of a disaster, following Wednesday’s floating body. 

“Do you want to get up?” Enid asks her, still bracing herself for impact. “Do you know how?”

Wednesday lets her butt sink and curls herself up, flipping onto her front and digging her feet into the muck below her. She stumbles like a newborn foal, arms trying to accurately balance herself, and Enid quickly puts her hands on her waist to hold her up. 

“That’s one way, I guess,” Enid giggles. “Okay, do you want to show me what you can do in the water?” The blank stare Wednesday gives her is very telling. Enid smiles. “If you were to fall into a body of water, what would you do?”

“Accept my fate,” Wednesday states with conviction.

“I thought drowning was for weaklings,” Enid says, a playful gleam in her eyes. “Seriously, it’s important to learn to swim. You know how to float. That’ll save you sometimes, but you need to learn to actually swim. Floating can’t get you far.”

“It’ll get me far enough,” Wednesday retorts. “I’m unteachable when it comes to swimming. You could ask my father if you’d like. He’s at the cottage with my mother. Likely trying to reproduce a third time. This place is nostalgic for them.” 

“I believe you when you said you got overstimulated and lost it on him,” Enid sympathetically says. “But this will be different. We’re going slow. You already floated by yourself. That’s progress.” 

“You’re wasting your time, Enid,” she mutters.

“You’re not a waste of time, Wednesday,” Enid emphasizes, but she’s not upset. Her facial features are so soft and forgiving. “I only want to help you.”

Wednesday is quiet for a minute, listening to the birds chirp and the subtle thunder roll in overhead. Her eyes travel down to Enid’s chest and then to the curve of her waist, until the water is blocking her view. Wednesday is breathing easily, taking in the scenery in front of her, even when her heart is racing.

“What’re you staring at?” Enid giggles sweetly. 

“I’m not staring,” Wednesday laments, frowning. “What makes you think that?”

“The fact that your big eyes are glued to my boobies,” Enid replies, tugging the straps of her bikini top so her breasts move, and sure enough, Wednesday’s eyes follow. “I was right!”

“How dare you,” Wednesday snaps and tears her eyes away. “I’m not sexualizing you.”

“Didn’t say you were,” Enid says. “But two things can be true at once. You were looking. And you know what? I’m okay with that.”

Wednesday has to plant her feet deep into the wet earth under her to prevent herself from accidentally floating away. She’s swaying back and forth in the water, shoulders shaking from either the cold or the fact that Enid has caught her in a nefarious act that she had been hoping no one would ever notice.

“What about Bruno?” Wednesday has to wonder aloud, the name like poison on her tongue. 

“What about him?” Enid asks. 

“Am I misjudging this situation?” Wednesday asks. “You just said that you are okay with my…my ogling.” 

She thinks she’s finally going insane; between being thrown out of a window and landing in a coma, her mother appearing over her shoulder at the most inconvenient times, and Enid’s ethereal presence fussing over her at every hour of the day and night, she’s bound to lose what little she has of her brain, but she never expected to lose it over the sight of Enid in a bikini. 

“Don’t worry about him,” Enid says and shakes her head. “We aren’t even together like that.”

Wednesday visibly relaxes. “Why are you entertaining him then?”

Enid shrugs. “Something happened to me at werewolf camp. I guess…I guess I was just desperate to find a werewolf to keep my mom quiet, and when I saw him, he was just conveniently there. It keeps my mom quiet. But we’re not really…a thing. You know?”

“So this is a lavender relationship,” Wednesday surmises. “Very interesting.”

Enid snorts. “What? That is not at all what that means. No; a lavender relationship is when two gay people pretend to date or get married to hide their sexuality. Bruno is not gay, we are not dating, and I’m not hiding my sexuality. Well, maybe from my mom, until I’m in a better position to tell her, but I’m not hiding it here. Not anymore. She thinks I’m interested in Bruno, and yeah, we did kiss when that psychopath Agnes tied us up, but it’s not gonna go anywhere.” 

“Then why kiss him if you have no intentions of pursuing anything?” Wednesday asks. “Why waste your time?” 

“Because…” Enid shrugs carelessly. “I’m not in love with him. I’m in love with the idea of my mom getting off my back about me finding a real mate now that I’ve wolfed out. So I just thought, maybe, I could force myself to get over the fact that you are my entire world if I just pretended a little. He was conveniently tied to me, and we actually were able to relate a little, and so it happened. I just thought I could shove myself into a box to shut my mom up. But I can’t, and so I just pretend when I need to. I’m not trying to be an asshole and lead Bruno on. I was honest with him. He wasn’t my biggest fan after I told him, though. I didn’t expect him to be. I just wanted him to know.” 

Since waking up from her coma and dealing with the burden of being alive with a ghost on her back, Wednesday has noticed a shift between Enid and Bruno. They’re less involved with each other. Bruno says hello to Enid in passing, and sometimes they’ll sit together with the other furs during shared mealtimes, but when it comes down to kissing and hand-holding, Enid gives him the cold shoulder and recoils like he’s going to give her cooties. 

“Enid, are you a lesbian?” Wednesday asks the big question, because of course she would. “Homosexual?”

“Uh…I don’t really know,” Enid meekly says. “After Bruno calmed down when I admitted everything to him, he told me I’m just Wednesday-sexual.”

Wednesday doesn’t know what that means. Until this point, she hasn’t ever appreciated the thought of someone finding her sexually appealing in the slightest. She doesn’t yearn for attention or to be perceived by another person. But with Enid, for Enid, she doesn’t mind so much. 

“When did this happen?” she asks Enid. 

“Day two of your coma,” Enid replies. “I had just got back from visiting you. I’d already been kinda avoiding him. He thought it was just the stress of seeing you like that. But I told him everything; about how you are the one constant in my life, the only thing that I truly care enough about, the fact that I can’t imagine living life without you. You can’t remember because you were knocked out, but I almost lost my shit and nearly wolfed out when you hit the ground. I didn’t want anyone to touch you. I was freaking out. Agnes was trying to calm me down so I wouldn’t wolf out on the paramedics, but I’m not gonna listen to a five-year-old when my precious little pookie is laid out on the pavement with her brains spilling out.” She takes a deep breath and lets the water flow through her fingertips. “I just had to come to terms with it then and there. I had to be honest. And I wasn’t gonna tell you because, well, you got thrown out of a window and I know how to read the room. Plus, the whole thing with Tyler ended in shambles. So I had to use common sense and assume that you wanted nothing to do with romance.” 

Quiet, Wednesday takes in the distressed look on Enid’s face. She uses her new aquatic skills and lets herself float closer to Enid, who closes the gap between them. 

“Are you gonna say something or am I gonna have to walk away with my tail between my legs like a hurt dog?” Enid asks, fidgeting with a string on her bikini. 

“Enid,” Wednesday exhales, eyes meeting hers. “You are right in assuming that I want little to do with romance, especially given the fact that my parents are acting like depraved animals not far from me and the sight of them makes me sick to my stomach.” Enid’s face drops, and Wednesday is quick to find a verbal remedy. “But in the same way that you are, as Bruno would say, Wednesday-sexual, I am…I guess you could say, Enid-sexual.”

Relief washes over Enid. Her shoulders slump and she smiles. Suddenly, Wednesday feels warm hands tugging her closer in the water, and she doesn’t start flailing, because the hands feel reminiscent of Enid holding her the night of the blood moon and, if she uses her imagination, the night she hit the pavement at Willow Hill. 

“Do you mean it?” Enid asks, her big blue eyes so bright in the gray skylight overhead. “You like me in that way?”

Wednesday gives her a stern look but her muscles are soft and warm for an Addams with a vendetta against her very existence. “Enid, you could say that I…love you.” 

Enid sweeps Wednesday closer by her waist and leans down. Wednesday suddenly feels warm inside and out as the warmth of Enid envelopes her entire being and soft lips touch hers for a split second. 

It’s not scary this time. It feels completely natural and welcoming. Despite the wind picking up and a chill running over Wednesday’s exposed shoulders, she’s wrapped in the warm skin of Enid, who is holding her closer with each passing second. 

It’s nothing like Tyler. Nothing like his manipulation tactics to convince her that he was just a decent person looking for a companionship that his parents didn’t have. Nothing like his feigned sense of care that was masking his primal need to destroy her life. 

Enid is not like him and she never will be like him. 

“I love you, too,” Enid says, holding her impossibly tighter. “So much, Wednesday.” 

Wednesday melts and relaxes, listening to the thunder and taking in the scent of sun cream and Enid’s skin. She closes her eyes the same way she did the night Enid took down a hyde for her. It’s reminiscent of that secure, indelible feeling of being held so safely in the arms of someone who cares. 

“I’m sorry I sprayed you with sunscreen,” Enid suddenly apologizes as she brushes damp hair out of Wednesday’s face. “I just…am really afraid of something bad happening to you. Which is why I wanted to teach you to swim.”

Wednesday nods, opening her eyes again. “Apology accepted.”

She doesn’t know how to tell Enid that everything she does is to save her from her ultimate demise, and that she understands the innate drive to protect and nurture. She’s been quiet about the truth, lying over and over again about why she’s up at all hours of the night and hunting down an avian that might not even exist anywhere but in her mind. Once Tyler had uttered Enid’s name, all bets were off the table, and since waking up, she’s put forth a millennium worth of effort into saving Enid’s life. 

“So…” Enid awkwardly says, looking down to find that Wednesday has wrapped her legs around her waist in the water, completely weightless. “What now?”

Wednesday isn’t going to tell Enid that she has a plethora of plans this evening that involve monster hunting and chasing down a senile bird, but she’s able to tell her that, for now, she’s content with staying here, even if the feeling of water in her ears makes her want to peel her skin off. Enid holding her balances it out nicely. 

“I know you’re likely miffed at me for lying about being able to swim before we attended the Poe Cup last year,” Wednesday tells her. “It was for a good cause. I have to admit that seeing you finally win against all odds was satisfying, even if I loathed the attention.” 

Enid snickers. “Well, I should be upset, but I’m not.” 

“Why not?” Wednesday inquires. “You appreciate honesty from me, and I chose to lie to you.”

“Because,” she sighs, tightening her arms around Wednesday’s waist and hoisting her up higher so they’re only an inch apart. “I lied to you, too.”

Wednesday gets a sour look on her face, a betrayed glint in her eyes. “When?”

“Today,” Enid says, inwardly wincing. “My cousin didn’t drown. She did get swept away when we were playing at the beach, but she was saved by a lifeguard. She didn’t die. Just needed some CPR and an overnight stay in the hospital. She still has all her brain cells and a degree in early child development. I just needed to convince you to learn to swim, because I totally have this irrational fear of drowning, and the thought of you dying is so scary after everything that’s happened to you.” 

“A pity,” Wednesday snarks. “I wanted to see photos from the funeral.” 

Enid doesn’t know whether to laugh or scold her for that comment. Still, she nuzzles Wednesday’s cold cheek and kisses the little dimple that Wednesday often denies is there.

“So we’re both a couple of liars,” Enid says. 

“But for a good cause,” Wednesday insists, face serious. “It’s different than when I lied about opening my great great grandfather’s urn and spilling the ashes all over my clothes.”

Taking a split second to let that sink in, Enid pulls a face at Wednesday. 

“I don’t wanna know the details,” she says to Wednesday. “Do not elaborate.”

“Fine,” Wednesday agrees. She looks up at the sky as the first raindrops begin to fall. “Shall we return to our room? I think I’ve had enough excitement for one day.”

A chill travels up Enid’s spine. She nods. “Yeah. I’ll teach you more tomorrow. You did really good today.”

Wednesday despises how good she feels inside when Enid praises her like that. She wants to hate it and reject the compliment, but she only leans further into Enid.

“There is water in my ears,” she says. 

“But you’re not flailing around, and you didn’t hit your head, so it’s progress,” Enid assures. “Also, the fact that you’re literally wrapped around me is progress. I didn’t think you’d ever be the affectionate type.”

“Hm. Well, I suppose it’s a surprise for us both,” she replies. Her finger fiddle with a pink bikini string as a thought suddenly occurs to her. “And don’t you ever allow Divina to borrow your swimsuit again. I’ll have to flay her.”

Enid giggles. “So the affectionate and jealous type.” 

Wednesday huffs, indignant. She rests her head on Enid’s shoulder, still curled around her but more relaxed than she was this morning. Enid’s chest rising and falling against her reminds her that they’re both safe from whatever is out to get Enid, even for the moment. 

She doesn’t want to lie to Enid anymore, about anything; about her visions, about Enid’s death, about why she has been using Agnes as her personal assistant. She wants to tell her the truth and admit that her full-time job is to protect Enid until her last breath, even if it ends in bloodshed. 

Lying isn’t morally good, but Wednesday knows that Enid can’t handle the truth. She can work on her little white lies and learn to tell the truth about the ashes and the black cat and the time she tried to murder baby Pugsley, but she isn’t going to tell Enid that she often sees snippets of her death and wakes up with black tears pouring down her cheeks after a nightmare of Enid being torn to pieces by a monster. 

So, maybe lying isn’t a good thing, but it’s what Enid needs right now, and Wednesday is always eager to provide delusion. She’s going to have to justify it until she’s blue in the face. 

“What’re you thinking about?” 

Enid’s voice startles Wednesday. She immediately looks up, very calculated. 

“Nothing important.”

There she goes again, lying through her teeth, but she has to be comfortable with it. She’s trying, and although her truthfulness isn’t perfect, it’s still progress. 

“Let’s dry off and go home,” Enid tells her, which only prompts Wednesday to wrap herself tighter around her. She smiles and kisses her dimple again. “You’re so cute.”

Wednesday goes to rant about how she isn’t cute, that she’s actually a lethal weapon against monsters and serial killers alike, but she’s interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. Her first instinct is to tense up, but then she sees that it’s only Divina standing at the edge of the lake with her jaw on the floor and her hands on her hips as she gawks at the fact that Enid is holding Wednesday like she’s a lifeline and Wednesday is all but enjoying the hell out of the doting attention Enid is smothering her to death with. 

“Good god,” Divina says, halfway amused, halfway disgusted. “I wasn’t that late.”