Finding a balance

Chapter 1

"Are you not cold?" Enid asks, pulling the jacked she had borrowed from Wednesday tighter around her shoulders.

"Freezing," Wednesday replies.

"Take it back then," Enid says, flinging the coat off. "It's my fault I didn't bring a jacket."

"Nonsense, Enid," Wednesday says, pushing it back. "I insisted on the location of our picnic being a surprise; you had no way of knowing you should have brought one. Besides, I quite enjoy the feeling."

"Oh." Enid hesitantly puts the jacket back on. "Well, thanks for putting this all together. The food's great."

"Of course. I researched werewolf's nutritional needs and preferences and observed your eating habits during meal time to ensure I got it right."

Enid looks down at her stake. "That's really thoughtful of you, Wednesday."

"Don't compliment me on the bare minimum, Enid. I'm not a man."

Enid holds off on taking another bite of her food so that her laughter can clear. "Of course. I'll restrain myself to only to complement the extraordinary things about you, but I'll still never run out."

"I doubt that."

"Oh really?" Enid says, ready to make a fool of herself, listing everything she finds endearing about Wednesday.

"It's implausible that anyone, especially me, could possess enough positive traits for someone to list for all eternity."

"Are you doubting my abilities?" Enid says playfully, leaning towards Wednesday.

"My statement was clearly about my unagreeable personality, not your ability to list the traits others contain that you enjoy."

At the beginning of their relationship, Wednesday's brazen attitude, refusal to sugarcoat anything, and penchant for getting straight to the point had unsettled Enid; she had never met anyone like Wednesday and was completely unsure how to act around the other girl. Over time she had become used to the other girl's straightforwardness and even enjoyed it. The realization had hit after the disastrous parents' weekend.

Her mother had constantly skirted around the topic of her wolfing out, rarely directly bringing it up but always hinting at and eluding to it. She never felt like she could point it out since it would mean she had brought it up, and in her mother's eye, that meant she had free reign to say whatever she wanted, no matter how hurtful. During that week, being around Wednesday had been a reprieve. She could relax, not worrying about any hidden meaning behind the other girl's words and actions. It had taken her until the day she almost lost Wednesday to realize that those feelings weren't only of friendship but of love.

"I'll give you one right now," Enid says. "You're the only person I could enjoy a picnic in a cemetery with." Enid gestures to their surroundings to prove her point.

"In the late nineteenth century, it was common to visit your local cemetery to have a snack since many communities did not have proper public recreational areas. The practice only fell out of favor within society due to the push for more public spaces and the negative associations that have arisen around death in the past hundred years."

"There's another one!" Enid proclaims. "You know so many cool little facts about everything!"

"That's not something uniquely attributed to me; it's a common trait of many autistic people. Some even find our penchant for delivering them whenever we see fit quite annoying."

"Well, I think it's adorable. Anyone who says otherwise is clearly ableist," Enid says, smiling brightly at Wednesday. When she looks down to cut another piece off her stake, she realizes she has finished it. Wednesday had finished her meal a while ago, but Enid doesn't say anything. If she brings attention to the fact that they are both done, it could mean the date is almost over, and she's not ready for that.