The next day, Oliver sat through math class with a notebook open in front of him.
Anyone looking his way would have assumed he was paying close attention.
In reality, the pages contained nothing but random geometric shapes, aimless lines, and doodles.
Not a single mathematical formula had found its way onto the paper.
Without taking her eyes off the blackboard, Wednesday asked, “Have you devised a plan for the Harvest Festival?”
Don’t misunderstand.
She wasn’t asking him out.
She was asking how he intended to help her escape Nevermore.
Oliver let out a quiet sigh without looking up.
“You know, blackmail is generally considered a crime.”
“It becomes considerably more effective when the victim acknowledges it,” Wednesday replied in the same flat, emotionless tone.
Oliver already understood what she wanted.
Reaching Jericho wasn’t the difficult part — he walked there almost every afternoon after finishing work at the Weathervane.
The real problem was the train station.
It was outside Jericho, and he didn’t own a car, a motorcycle, or even a bicycle.
“You don’t actually have anything on me,” he said.
“I disagree. Principal Weems would be interested to learn that you’ve been leaving campus without authorization on a daily basis. I imagine she’d find your extracurricular excursions… enlightening.”
Oliver finally turned to face her.
“You’re threatening to report me for walking into town?”
“I’m presenting you with two possible outcomes,” Wednesday corrected.
“One benefits us both. The other benefits only me.”
There wasn’t the slightest trace of malice or satisfaction in her voice.
She stated it as if discussing the weather or solving a mathematical equation.
Oliver stared at her for several seconds before rubbing his temples.
“…Fine. I’ll see what I can do.”
Wednesday gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.
“I expected nothing less.” This chapter is updated first at g.com.
***
As soon as the bell rang, Enid practically skipped over to Oliver’s desk with her usual bright smile.
“Oly! Are you free on Harvest Festival night?”
Oliver looked up from closing his notebook.
“Why?”
“Because you should come with us! It’s the Harvest Festival — there’ll be games, music, food, booths. It’s the biggest event in Jericho all year. It’ll be so much fun!”
Oliver gave her a doubtful look.
“You seem very confident about that.”
“Of course I am!” Enid laughed.
“You’ll never know if you don’t go. Besides, you’ve spent most of your time either in class or hiding in your room. It’s about time you actually hung out with everyone.”
“I wasn’t hiding.”
“You absolutely were.”
Oliver opened his mouth to argue before deciding it wasn’t worth the effort.
“So,” Enid continued with an encouraging smile, “what do you say? Come with us?”
Before he could answer, Wednesday calmly closed her notebook.
“He already has plans.”
Enid turned toward her, blinking in surprise.
“He does?”
“Yes.”
Enid looked back at Oliver.
“…Since when?”
Oliver rubbed the back of his neck.
“Since about five minutes ago.”
Wednesday met Enid’s gaze without a trace of emotion.
“He’ll be accompanying me.”
Enid’s eyes widened as she looked between the two of them.
“…Okay… I definitely wasn’t expecting that.”
Wednesday regarded her with the same impassive expression.
“This isn’t what you’re imagining. I have no interest in teenage romance or the pointless emotional theatrics that accompany it. Oliver is simply assisting me with a practical matter.” Read the latest chapters at g.com.
Enid smiled knowingly.
“You know, that’s exactly what someone trying to hide it would say.”
“It isn’t.”
“It totally is.”
Wednesday didn’t even blink.
“Your imagination continues to generate conclusions unsupported by evidence. I suggest you stop reading romance novels before they cause permanent cognitive damage.”
Enid pouted.
“I don’t read that many.”
“Your reaction suggests otherwise.”
Oliver watched the exchange for a moment before quietly sighing.
Then his ears twitched.
Unlike the previous times, the sensation didn’t fade — it intensified.
“Ah, fuck… looks like my super hearing’s finally come online.”
The world around him exploded with sound.
Heartbeats echoed through the classroom like drums.
Dozens of conversations overlapped until they became an unintelligible wall of voices.
The scratching of pencils, the ticking of the classroom clock, footsteps in the hallway, lockers slamming somewhere down the corridor — every sound forced itself into his ears at once.
Oliver instinctively grabbed the side of his head, his expression tightening.
Enid immediately noticed.
“Oly?” Her cheerful smile faded into concern.
“Is something wrong?”
Her voice barely stood out from the countless others flooding his mind.
To Oliver, it felt as though hundreds of people were speaking directly into his ears at the same time.
“I’m… fine,” he said through clenched teeth.
“Just… a headache.”
Before either Enid or Wednesday could question him further, Oliver turned and walked out of the classroom, hoping the hallway would somehow be quieter.
It wasn’t.