The nail polish that had been spread out on the wooden table exceeded even Charity’s expectations. When she had suggested a manicure, she hadn’t assumed that they would actually agree. Much less go digging for all the nail polish they had. The nearest nail salon had been too far for Cid to agree to, so the next best was right here at home. Or, more precisely, Nora’s home. She’d always been envious of the way in which they made her feel at home; Nora had always been more charismatic, at least as long as she had known them.
Currently, she had just finished painting their nails, peering closely at the peeling labels from behind her circular spectacles. If she knew she’d have been clumsy enough to get some of Nora’s shade of nail polish on them, she would have just worn her contacts. “Yeah, about that,” she declined from continuing immediately, lugging the two coats of polish up into their view – the hot pink they had suggested, and a royally dark shade of blue – with the intention of getting a second opinion. She sported a sheepish smile as well as the only other clothes that nobody knew she owned, not a casual suit get-up, but some athletic shorts and baggy t-shirt.
“Well, I stayed the night at the library a couple days ago, right?” Because she was too exhausted to walk home and back, and Tybalt, her favorite animal, especially opposed to Nora’s Mopsy, was not about to set out in the aftermath of the rain with her walking harness. “I was really just messing around when I took the ouija board off the shelf. Until, you know, the library has been settling in a little more noisily. As in doors slamming, books tumbling, loud groans like someone’s walking around.” Why Porter County Library had a ouija board that people could check-out was a mystery to Cid, herself. She shrugged, offering half of a chuckle, but at Nora’s ever entertaining energy. “Didn’t want to wake you up, honey. I really shouldn’t have done it. But the good news is I’m not possessed, and we have an idea for next Sunday I’m off, right?”
“IS FINDING THIS SORT OF STUFF USUALLY COMMON IN LIBRARIES?” they asked somewhat curiously, looking at Cid’s job in a new light. They always imagined a librarian’s job to be somewhat boring—just hours of sitting around until the next punk-ass kid decided to return their books a month too late (and no, Nora was definitely not projecting here) until their shift ended. They reckoned that even librarians at those bigshot ones like in the top universities or something got bored more often than they’d like to admit, so what more a small town like Wheeler, where Nora was of the opinion that most didn’t even care much for reading? Still, to hear tales like this by Cid... it was refreshing, really, and it made them intrigued in a way they thought they wouldn’t have been. It was due in part to how their friend also told stories, riveting and entertaining, keeping Nora’s interest when their attention span was usually flighty and quick to die.
“Damn,” they said, letting out a low whistle. “A thing like that, huh?” They didn’t even raise doubts about the story because what reason would Cid have for lying? Besides, Nora always felt inclined to believe in things that aren’t of this world. They first encountered it in their sociology intro classes and spiritual practices and encounters have always been an interest of theirs, their sense of mysticism having been no doubt influenced by the pervasive religious atmosphere that was so present in town. “You really shouldn’t have done it, yeah,” Nora agreed easily. “It’s always best not to mess with stuff like that... although heads-up, I’m not possessed is exactly what a possessed person would say.” Then they made the sign of the cross, although whether they meant this seriously or in jest wasn’t too easily discerned.
“Maybe we should buy some sage first,” Nora said. “Can’t be too careful with stuff like this but... hmmm, next Sunday when you’re off is... when exactly, darling?” Although for Cid, they’d for sure make the time. “But yeah, sounds like a date.” They stuttered over the word, even though it was the exact same that Cid herself used, and a slight blush crept up their neck as they felt a sudden heat. (It was a good thing that they weren’t pale, or else the blush would have been super obvious.) “I mean, plan, but... yeah, it’d be a unique night out at least.” It was odd for them to feel sheepish and awkward, the two emotions not being often felt by them, and so they offered up a hesitant smile, almost as if to close discussion on that. “Hot pink always looks better, by the way,” they finished up, pointing to the tube of polish Cid raised up, as if to wholly change to a different subject altogether.
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