At some anonymous meeting in Connecticut.
Girl 1: So why’re you here?
Girl 2: My girlfriend insisted I attend at least once. Yourself?
Girl 1: My mom.
Girl 2: Ah. Mothers.
Girl 1: *smirks* So who was yours?
Girl 2: Mine?
Girl 1: Yeah, the other reason for being here. Your dude.
Girl 2: *sighs* Ah. Right.
Girl 2: Tall. White. Traditionally handsome with a mop of tousled hair. Like a tall glass of bland water in plaid. Regretfully generic.
Girl 1: Seriously? Ugh. Same here. Like, to a T.
The two share a moment of amicable silence.
Girl 1: So uh… a girlfriend, huh?
Girl 2: Quite. She is everything I never wanted.
Girl 1: Cool cool cool. Maybe I oughta—
Newcomer: Hey Wednesday, ya ready to go?
Wednesday: Of course, mi corazón. *stands* It was acceptable speaking with you…
Girl 1: Astrid. Astrid Deetz.
Wednesday: *nods* Deetz. This is my beloved, Enid.
Enid: Howdy!
Astrid: Nice to meet you. Have a good day, I guess?
Wednesday: And a terrible day to you.
Astrid watches the pair leave as a mix of curiosity and longing crosses her face.
Astrid: *murmurs* Girls, huh? I wonder— FUCK!
Hot coffee soaks across Astrid’s sweater. She jumps to her feet as a British-accented voice pipes up.
New girl: Oh shit! I’m SO sorry! I didn’t mean to coffeelize you like that.
Astrid: Did you just say coffeeli— *looks up*
Astrid: 😳
New girl: Yeah, uh —*nervous giggle*— gosh, please let me make this up to you? It’ll only take a few jiffies. My name’s Pippa. Exchange student. *holds out hand*
Astrid: Astrid. It’s nice to meet you, Pippa. *takes hand*
Pippa: That’s such a cool name! Nordic for “divine beauty,” yeah? I think it suits you!
Astrid: *smiles* Um. Thanks.
Both girls stand there, briefly at a loss for words. They notice neither how their hands are still clasped, nor the mischievous werewolf who is peeking from around a corner.
Wednesday: Are you quite done reveling in your success? We’ve a flight to Los Angeles to catch.
Enid: Yup! Mission accomplished. Let’s go!
Wednesday: Finally. Now then, about this Phoebe and Cecilia—
Enid: CC.
Wednesday: Fine. So about Phoebe and CC…
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Something, something the fact that the Singh family boxed up Sal's bedroom because even in their own home they felt as though they weren't allowed to grieve him v.s. How the Bell family meticulously kept Andie's room just as she left it, holding desperately onto an idea of her, which was dead long before she was actually killed.
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When I think of female rage I think of Pippa Fitz-Amobi finding out about Max Hastings being “innocent”. I think about her pouring coke on some jerks head and shoving one of her friends against the lockers and holding him by the throat for accusing her of lying. I think about her breaking windows and painting “Rapist I will get you” on Max’s door. I think of her shoving protesters and breaking signs at Stanley’s funeral.
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