Enid Sinclair was so not okay.
Like, emotionally, spiritually not okay.
She was leaning against her locker, cheer uniform clinging to her like it was stitched from poor decisions, trying to remember how to breathe like a normal human being.
Her skirt was definitely too short. Ms. Capri had told her a hundred times, but it wasn’t Enid’s fault she had “killer legs” (Yoko's words, not hers). Plus, she liked how it looked. She liked how she felt in it. Confident. Cute. And pretty.
What she didn’t like was that every time she felt even remotely put-together, the Addams siblings had to exist.
And they did. Unfortunately.
Bruno Addams, star basketball player, stupidly perfect jawline, smile that could probably melt icebergs. And Wednesday Addams, his little sister. If “little” meant the human embodiment of silence, judgment, and monochrome aesthetic.
They looked eerily similar in the face, all sharp edges and dark eyes, but everything else about them was different.
Bruno was sunshine in a varsity jacket, Wednesday was stoic expressions and everything murder wrapped in human skin.
Enid groaned and thunked her head against her locker.
She didn’t even know who she was anymore.
“Hey, E.”
Of course.
The universe had a sense of humour.
Bruno stood there, leaning just a little too close, grin easy and warm. His stupid jacket smelled like clean laundry and expensive cologne, and the way his curls fell over his forehead was criminal.
“Hey, Bruno,” Enid said, her voice getting higher.
“You coming to the game Friday?”
“Yes!” she said, smiling too big. “I mean, totes. I’ll be there. Duh.”
He laughed, and Enid’s brain short-circuited for a second.
And then, because the universe wasn’t done tormenting her, Wednesday appeared behind her, like she’d been summoned by pure anxiety.
“Your voice gets higher when you lie,” Wednesday said, completely flat.
Enid jumped, hands flying up, and to her heart. “Oh my God! Don’t do that!”
Wednesday tilted her head slightly. “I was walking. Existing. Breathing. I apologize, that you find those acts terrifying.”
"To be completely fair, they terrify me as well." She muttered, afterwards.
Bruno snorted, ruffling Enid’s hair. “That was quite the scare for you, huh E?"
“Yeah, well,” Enid stuttered, trying not to implode right there, “maybe it’s because you two always sneak up like— you know.. ghosts or something.”
Wednesday’s lips twitched. That barely noticeable smile that could end civilizations. “Noted.”
And then, because Enid’s life was a tragic rom-com, Wednesday reached out to tuck a stray strand of blonde, pinkish hair behind Enid’s ear.
Her fingers brushed her skin, cold, precise, and gentle. Enid’s whole brain just.. froze.
Bruno’s grin faded. He looked at his sister, then at Enid. “Uh.. you good?”
“Yeah!” she squeaked. “Totes! I’m—" She inhaled the faint scent of ink and new books. "Fine!”
She wasn’t fine.
She was so far from fine she might as well have been orbiting a whole new planet.
.
By lunch, she was still panicking.
She sat at her usual table with Yoko, Divina, and Bianca, her absolute ride or dies.
They were in the middle of gossiping about some senior drama when Enid just snapped.
“I think I’m in, like, the biggest love triangle ever,” she blurted, clutching her juice box like it was a stress ball.
Bianca blinked. “Who’s the second guy?”
“Or girl,” Divina added, eyebrow raised.
Enid groaned and buried her face in her hands. “You’re not ready for this.”
Yoko leaned forward, smirking. “Try us.”
“It’s.. Bruno.”
They all nodded, unimpressed. A small mhm was heard from all three of them.
“..and Wednesday.”
The table went silent for one second.
Then Divina choked on her drink. Bianca threw her head back and cackled, hand on her stomach. Yoko's smirk went full villain arc.
“You're kidding,” Bianca said, still laughing. “You’re into both Addams siblings?”
“I don’t know!” Enid half whispered, half yelled. “I mean.. Bruno’s sweet and funny and everyone likes him, and he gives me his jacket when I’m cold, and we’ve, you know, made out a few times—”
“How fun,” Divina gasped, clutching Yoko's sweater, rocking the poor girl back and forth.
“But then Wednesday’s just—ugh! She’s Wednesday! She’s all quiet and mysterious and says things like ‘you’re too loud when you breathe’ and it should be annoying, but it’s not! It’s hot! Why is that hot?”
“Because you have a type,” Yoko said.
“I don’t!” Enid insisted, her voice getting higher.
Bianca grinned. “Oh, you do. You like people who terrify you.”
Enid groaned again, collapsing onto the table. “It’s, like, so wrong though! They’re siblings! Literal siblings! And i'm making out with one of them and kissing the other's fucking cheek! ”
Divina tapped her nails on the table thoughtfully. “It’s not wrong if you’re not, like, dating either of them. Just… messy.”
"Messy is an understatement,” Enid muttered, sipping on her apple juice.
"And Wednesday's a girl!— OMG she's a girl!"
"There's nothing wrong with liking a girl E," Yoko reassured her. Bianca and Divina nodded in agreement.
Enid groaned, “Yes I know, I know."
.
By the time cheer practice rolled around, Enid was emotionally fried.
The gym was loud, sneakers squeaking, her squad shouting routines.
She tried to focus, she really did, but halfway through a pyramid, she lost her balance and tripped.
It happened in slow motion, the fall, the gasp, the thud. Then two pairs of hands caught her.
One warm.
One cold.
Bruno on her right, Wednesday on her left.
Left is always right. Enid thought to herself, half out of her freaking mind.
Enid blinked, dazed, eyes darting between them, then around them.
Her squad just smiled awkwardly and gave her a thumbs up, then walked away to.. probably gossip.
“You okay?” Bruno asked, concern written all over his face, hand holding Enid's.
“I’m fine,” she squeaked. “Totes fine. I’m like, a literal professional at falling!”
Wednesday’s gaze was flat. “Professional incompetence is still incompetence.”
“Yeah I know. Thanks, Wedns..”
Wednesday didn’t respond, just tucked yet, another strand of hair behind Enid's ear, slow and deliberate. Enid swore her pulse stopped.
Bruno still hadn’t let go of her hand. He side-eyed his sister.
And there she was again, caught in-between them. Between comfort and chaos. Between something easy and something inevitable.
Maybe she wanted both. She wasn’t supposed to. And maybe she didn't.
.
Later that night, in bed, she stared at the ceiling, mascara smudged.
She couldn’t stop replaying it: the locker, the cafeteria, the gym. The way Bruno’s laughter made her heart jump, the way Wednesday’s silence made her think way more than it should.
She didn’t even know what she wanted anymore.
Some nights, it was Bruno’s warmth.
Other nights, it was Wednesday’s voice, soft and low, reading her lines from her stupid theatre script, helping her study, completely unaware of what she was doing to Enid.
Or maybe she did know.
Maybe she didn’t.
Either way, Enid was falling. And she had no idea where she was going to land.
She hoped it wasn't in Wednesday's arms. God no. She's a girl. That's not normal.
But Enid wished it was.
Enid’s at her usual table with Bianca, Yoko, and Divina, gossiping about the latest news of a girl cheating on her boyfriend when a familiar pair of arms land on her shoulders.
“Hey, Sunshine.” Bruno’s voice. Easy, low, confident.
He smells like mint gum and fresh cologne, his varsity jacket hanging loose over his uniform. He looks good, which is exactly the problem.
“Hi, Bruno,” Enid chirps, smile practiced. "We survived morning classes, so.. yay!”
He chuckles. “Barely. You almost fell asleep in chem.”
Bianca groans, jokingly. “You two make me nauseous.”
Before Enid can respond, the noise of the cafeteria dulls a little. The kind of silence that happens when she walks in.
Wednesday, black sweater and skirt smoothed perfectly, expression unreadable, a small paper bag in one hand and a quad in the other.
She stops beside their table.
And without a word, she sets the brown bag in front of Enid.
Enid blinks. “Hey Wedns.. what’s this?”
“You require sustenance beyond cafeteria rations,” Wednesday says dryly.
She doesn’t wait for a response, just sips her daily quad and gives a brief glare toward Bruno before walking to her corner, opening a book.
Enid blinks, and slowly lifts a perfectly ripe peach from the bag, feeling the soft fuzz under her fingertips. Then she sees a sugar cookie, soft, uneven, homemade.
Her chest tightens. And she completely flushes. A hue of red covering the tips of her ears.
Bruno’s eyes narrow, and he grimaces, jaw tightening as he watches her. He doesn’t like that Enid is glowing over something his sister gave her, something he didn’t.
Yoko smirks and nudges Divina. Divina shoots Bianca a look. All three subtly exchange silent approval, like little cheerleaders rooting for Wednesday without saying it.
Enid, of course, is oblivious.
Her heart flutters. Bruno’s flirting never did that.
She groans, pressing her face into her hands. “I’m so screwed.”
Bruno turns to her, brows furrowed. “What?”
“Nothing!” she squeaks, too fast. Voice getting higher.
He eyes her suspiciously but doesn’t push it.
Enid glances back at Wednesday, engrossed in her book. She looks at peace, calm. Unlike Bruno, who could never sit still long enough to read a paragraph without needing a basketball in his hands.
The contrast makes her chest ache.
The second Bruno leaves, Yoko bursts out laughing. “Girl, you’re blushing so bad right now.”
Divina leans over. “Please tell me that’s not over a piece of fruit, E."
Enid shakes her head, protesting. “It’s not!"
"It’s just vitamin C! I love health!”
Bianca sips her drink, unimpressed. “You clearly like Wednesday, and Bruno. It’s like, your brand now.”
Enid drops her head onto the table, and groans. “Can I not have one normal freaking lunch?!”
.
By third period, Enid’s still thinking about that peach.
And Wednesday’s espresso.
And Bruno’s stupid arm around her shoulders.
She likes Bruno, how could she not? He’s charming and warm and he actually tries. Sometimes.
But Wednesday? Wednesday just looks at her and everything inside her gets scrambled. It’s insanity.
.
When the bell rings, Enid drags herself to the library for their usual study session since they both have a spare.
Wednesday’s already there, sitting like a statue, notebook and pens perfectly aligned, book propped open beside her script for theatre rehearsal.
“You’re late,” she says without looking up.
“It’s literally two minutes,” Enid replies, tossing her bag onto the chair.
“Two minutes is still late.”
“You’re scary sometimes.”
“That’s intentional.”
They fall into a comfortable silence, almost domestic.
Enid scribbles through her English notes while Wednesday annotates her script.
Every so often, Wednesday’s pen darts toward Enid’s page to correct something.
“Too many adverbs,” she murmurs.
“Redundant metaphor.”
“Never use the word ‘totes.’”
Enid gasps dramatically. “Excuse me, that’s, like, my thing!”
“It’s a disgrace to the English language.”
“Wow, okay, Miss Shakespeare.”
Wednesday’s lips twitch, barely, but enough to make Enid’s pulse stutter. “You test the limits of human patience.”
“And you secretly love it.”
“I tolerate it.”
Enid gives a lopsided smile. “Close enough.”
Their fingers brush as they reach for the same pen, and for a moment neither moves.
“Sorry,” Enid murmurs.
“You apologize too often,” Wednesday says quietly.
“Habit.”
“Break it.”
“I’ll.. try?”
“Try harder.”
“Bossy much?”
“Efficient.”
Enid giggles. “You’re ridiculous.”
Wednesday looks at her with intent. “So are you.”
.
Half an hour later, Bruno appears at the library door, spinning his keys. “Hey, E. Need a ride?”
Wednesday looks up sharply. “She’s already leaving with me.”
Enid’s head snaps toward her. “I am?”
Bruno laughs, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Since when do you walk people home, sis?”
“Since now,” Wednesday says smoothly. “She’s directionally incompetent.”
Enid gapes. “I am not!”
Bruno raises his brows, clearly annoyed. “Guess I’ll let the two of you figure it out.”
Enid exhales slowly. “You guys really can’t stand each other, can you?”
“We have differing philosophies,” Wednesday replies.
“Yeah? What’s yours?” Bruno asks, arms crossed.
“Don’t interfere with what isn’t yours.”
Enid nearly chokes on air. “What's that supposed to mean?”
Wednesday only shrugs.
Bruno huffs a laugh, stepping back, clearly frustrated but letting it go. For now.
.
They walk home in silence. The sky coloured in hues of pink and orange. Wednesday walks a little slower than usual, matching Enid’s pace.
“You really didn’t have to walk me,” Enid mutters. “It’s kind of far.”
“I required air.”
“You could just say you wanted to stay with me.”
“I didn’t.”
“Right. Of course you didn’t.”
They reach her street corner, the one with the crooked mailbox and flickering streetlight. Enid stops. “Are you sure you’ll be okay walking back alone?”
Wednesday’s lips twitch faintly. “Enid, no one would dare approach me.”
“I know, but still.”
“Your concern is misplaced,” she says softly. “Though appreciated.”
Enid smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Just.. text me when you get home, kay?”
“I don’t text.”
“Right. Duh.”
Before she can overthink it, Enid leans forward and presses a quick kiss to Wednesday’s cheek.
Warm skin, cold air, raspberry lipgloss, and suddenly her heart’s doing backflips it never even signed up for.
She pulls back immediately, face burning hot. “Sorry! I didn’t mean—well, I did but not in a weird way uh—”
Wednesday blinks once, unreadable. Then, quietly, "You have an unfortunate habit of making me feel human.”
Enid’s breath catches. “Is that bad?”
Wednesday meets her gaze. “It’s terrifying.”
She turns and walks away, hands tucked into the pockets of her black sweater, the faint scent of espresso and ink lingering.
Enid stands there, fingertips on her lips, frozen under the buzzing streetlight, her heart thudding too loud for her own comfort.
She’s so, so screwed.