Spark • Xavier Thorpe

fifteen

"What happened to your other roommate?" Her father asked, when he noticed the lack of Enid in their dorm room.

"She couldn't handle my toxic personality," Wednesday commented, as she flipped through the diary. Elvira nearly snorted in amusement at her cousin's statement, at least Wednesday was aware that it was her fault.

Elvira was standing next to her, looking at all the sketches of every kind of outcast that Faulkner had drawn. The detail was amazing, and she was sure that even Xavier would be jealous. She flipped to the next page, and the eyes of the Hyde were staring up at Elvira. "Here it is."

"Faulkner describes Hydes as artists by nature, but equally vindictive in temperament. Born of mutation, the Hyde lays dormant until unleashed by a traumatic event or unlocked through chemical inducement or hypnosis," Elvira read. "This causes the Hyde to develop an immediate bond with its liberator, who the creature now sees as its master."

"It becomes the willing instrument of whatever nefarious agenda this new master might propose," Wednesday continued.

"Anyone willing to unlock a Hyde is a next level sicko," her father commented, and Elvira nodded in agreement.

"It means we're not looking for one killer, but two," Wednesday stated. "The monster and its master."

Suddenly there was a knock at their door. Elvira went to open it as Wednesday hit the diary and her father hid. Elvira didn't even get as far as three feet from the door, when Ms. Thornhill walked in.

"Oh, I didn't mean to startle you," she told them. Elvira looked back with her eyes wide, but her father was nowhere in sight. Wednesday stood from her desk, and stared at Thornhill blankly.

"I was just helping Wednesday with her novel," Elvira lied.

"Enid has requested to room with Yoko for the rest of the school year," Thornhill told the two. Elvira immediately frowned at the news. She had thought her friend would be returning after a few Wednesday-free days.

"She did?" Wednesday asked. Elvira glanced over her shoulder to see that her cousin's eyes had widened. Perhaps Wednesday was just as attached to Enid's friendship as she was.

"When there's a falling out, I like to get all perspectives on what happened. You three seemed to be as thick as thieves," Thornhill commented.

"Ultimately thieves turn on each other. I've seen it with my own eyes," Wednesday spoke up, as Elvira looked to the floor.

"Deflect all you want, but you and I both know that you care about Enid," Thornhill told Wednesday, before looking to Elvira. "I know that both of you care about her."

"Yeah we do," Elvira mumbled to herself.

"You also have to admit that she managed to bring out a spark of warmth in the two of you," Thornhill continued. Wednesday looked concerned at this news, but it was something that Elvira had already accepted. "Oh don't worry. Just a tiny spark. barely perceptible to the average eye, but I noticed. Is it so hard for you to accept that you've made a friend, and now that she's gone you're going to miss her?"

"I'll survive alone. I always have," Wednesday told her defiantly. Thornhill then turned to Elvira.

"And what about you Elvira?"

"The decision isn't up to me," Elvira responded. Thornhill nodded, and pursed her lips.

"Well if that's how you really feel then I'll submit the forms to Principal Weems," Thornhill announces. Neither cousin said another word as she left.

"You're really just going to give up on Enid that easily?" Elvira asked, obviously frustrated.

"Now is not the time," Wednesday told her. Elvira sighed in exasperation. It would never be the time.