Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter One: Glass

‘There. Enjoy the air.’

Elphaba thought herself quite clever for her little quip, but in truth, she was trying to distract Galinda from the fact she’d lost her temper. It wasn’t that she was particularly concerned about whether her new roommate found her unsettling or not - she’d already made her thoughts on that very clear - but she if she was going to be stuck with the girl, she didn’t want to scare her, as such, by exposing her penchant for losing her cool with her magic. 

Galinda, for her part, was staring wide-eyed at the broken glass of the balcony window without moving. It was almost amusing to Elphaba - she’d been raging around the place like a miniature pink tornado, and all it took to shut her up was a door slamming and glass fracturing. Or perhaps it was the swift demonstration of magic that did it. Elphaba didn’t particularly care. She marched back over to the dusty corner of the suite Galinda had apparently assigned her, and carried on shoving boxes and suitcase to give herself some space. 

Of all the things Elphaba expected out of her day, suddenly enrolling at Shiz and getting saddled with a talkative, irksome blonde was not on her list. A part of her tried to be grateful for the opportunity, but as she leaned over the narrow bed she’d been supplied and yanked off the rest of the window covers, spluttering from the dust, she couldn’t help but feel as if it was some sort of cruel trick. Any minute now, she was expecting someone to jump out, laugh at her, and load her onto a boat back to Munchkinland. Don’t be so ridiculous, they would proclaim. Why would we let someone like you join such an illustrious institution just because you can do a handful of magic tricks ? 

Shuddering at the very thought of it, Elphaba bundled up the drapings and chucked them at the foot of the bed. She flapped a hand in the air to dissipate some of the dust. How had it even gotten there? Given Galinda’s obvious wealth, surely Shiz’s cleaners would’ve made certain the suite spick and span? I bet she found a way to somehow make it dusty on purpose , Elphaba frowned. It was quite peculiar to think someone capable of such a petty thing within minutes of meeting, but Elphaba would not put it past her. She wouldn’t say she disliked Galinda on sight, but her attitude left much to be desired - particularly since was refusing to help Elphaba make space.

‘You know,’ Elphaba muttered, grunting as she pushed at a particularly large trunk embossed with Galinda’s personalised crest ( what sort of a person has their own crest, of Oz’s sake! she thought to herself), ‘you could give me a hand instead of standing there gawking. Just what did you pack ? Your kitchen sink?’

Galinda, who still hadn’t moved from the balcony, didn’t say anything. Elphaba straightened up and glowered at her back. ‘Right. Pretend I’m not here. Don’t worry, I’m very used to that old trick.’ She gave the trunk a mighty shove with her foot, and it slid a little further across the room. Galinda turned, then. And Elphaba was startled. 

For whatever reason, Galinda seemed much, much paler than she had been five minutes ago, and she was working her lower lip between her teeth with such frantic fervour, it was a wonder she had any lipstick left. Her eyes were darting all around the room, and, to Elphaba’s unwelcome concern, she seemed to be trembling ever so slightly. 

‘Why are you - don’t kick my stuff!’ she managed to blurt out. But her voice was ragged around the edges, as if she couldn’t quite get the words unstuck from her throat. 

‘You stuff is in the way,’ Elphaba scowled. ‘Not sure it’s cause for whatever this is, though.’ She gestured vaguely to Galinda’s trembling form. ‘Calm down. It’s just a trunk.’

Galinda’s lips parted just a hair. Her chest was rising and falling faster, much faster. Elphaba was momentarily uneasy - is she really that upset about me moving her things around? - but she quickly dismissed her own train of thought. Galinda Upland was a dramatist, she knew that. And this was just another example of it. 

‘You - you broke the window,’ Galinda stammered. She had pressed a hand to her chest, as if she was aware she was breathing too quickly. 

Elphaba frowned at her. ‘...Yes, I’m well aware.’ She suddenly felt a little awkward with Galinda staring at her, eyes as wide as saucers and overly bright. Maybe she had spooked her more than she realised. ‘Um, sorry. I can ask the Estates team to come and fix it.’

She watched as Galinda struggled through a thick swallow, her throat almost spasming with the effort of it. The girl gave herself a little shake. 

‘You better. It’s - it’s a terrible way to make an impression,’ she spluttered, looping her arms around her middle and giving herself a squeeze. ‘There’s glass everywhere. I’m not cleaning it up.’

‘I don’t recall asking you to,’ Elphaba said flatly.

‘No, but I can’t - we can’t just leave it here.’

‘Oz, what do you want me to do ?’ snapped Elphaba, her short temper getting the better of her. Galinda flinched at little. ‘I’ve already told you I’ll get someone to come and fix it, and if it’s that much of a big deal for you, I’ll sweep up the stupid glass. But not before you stop being dramatic and help me clear some space so I can - hey, where are you going?’

Without another look in her direction, Glainda had stumbled past her and the growing disarray of her possessions, and flounced into the bathroom. Elphaba blinked after her, startled as she slammed the door behind her. She stood dumbly for a moment, not quite sure what to do with herself. She didn’t really want to irritate Galinda to that extent, but she couldn’t deny the tiny flare of satisfaction she felt when she stormed off. How easy it is to ruffle her , she shrugged. 

It was only after one of Dr Dillamond’s seminars did Elphaba realise something was genuinely amiss, and it was the first of a handful of incidents that made her realise she had more in common with Galinda than she first thought.

*

The seminar room was a little too warm for Galinda’s tastes. That, combined with the fact that Dr Dillamond’s classes were so spectacularly boring , she often found herself at risk of dozing off. It didn’t help that she appeared to be experiencing a rather vicious bout of insomnia - something that Elphaba Thropp was entirely responsible for. 

Despite appearing as what some would perceive as an airhead, Galinda was more than aware of her situation. Or, more accurately, her preposterous predicament. Huffing through her nostrils, she slumped her chin into her hand, covering her mouth with her palm, and her eyes drifted over to the aforementioned green menace. Perhaps if she merely pretended to scream into her hand, some of her frustrations would be unleashed without bringing undue attention to them. The last thing she wanted to do was cause commotion enough to distract the class. And it wasn’t as if Elphaba was looking in her direction, anyway. She’d been giving her the cold shoulder since that morning, when she woke up to find herself imprisoned with stacks of pink suitcases, trunks, and boxes. 

Smirking at the memory, Galinda felt a little better. That’s all she had to do. Focus on all the petty jibes, the childish tricks, and cutting remarks that had been exchanged over the first week they’d shared since enrolment. Such an intense reaction had to come from somewhere , after all. Galinda didn’t loath people without good reason. She was far too nice for that. In fact, exchanging verbal blows with Elphaba was almost enjoyable. Watching her roommate try to appear unbothered, until Galinda picked and prodded and poked enough for her to snap, angry and flustered… flustered . Yes, that was always quite enjoyable. 

Galinda resisted the urge to scream into her hand again as her mind strayed to that particular situation once more. It was reaching the point where it was genuinely keeping her awake at night - hence the insomnia. She was acutely aware that she was applying more and more make-up under her eyes to disguise the shadows, and she was even considering adopting Shenshen’s suggestion of resting tea bags on her eyes to help with the swelling. The caffeine acts as a natural antioxidant and increases blood circulation! she had proclaimed over breakfast that morning, after Pfannee had made a comment on Galinda’s appearance. That certainly spelled trouble - Pfannee was usually oblivious to most things around him. If even he was noticing Galinda’s telling eyebags, then something was desperately wrong.

But despite her best efforts (and her general anxiety about not looking her best), Galinda could not settle her thumping heart and roaring thoughts enough to sleep . It had been going on for a week. She tried to blame the perfectly normal feeling of being unsettled in a new place, but who was she kidding? And of course Elphaba, curse her, continued to sleep like a baby. That made it even worse . She wasn’t paying a single spare thought to Galinda. No, her thoughts must’ve been occupied with her special tutelage under Madame Morrible, or her wild aspirations to meet the Wizard, or which of her frumpy outfits to wear which somehow looked good on her - no ! Galinda let out a muffled squeak. No, Elphaba did not look good in her ridiculous clothes, no matter how well they complimented the deep, charming green of her eyes, or - stop it!

‘Are you okay?’

Galinda glanced to her left to find Shenshen looking at her with a peculiar expression. Her little squeak must’ve been louder than she thought. She quickly plastered on a smile. 

‘Y-Yes, all good!’ she whispered. ‘Just struggling to stay awake. This is so dreadfully dull.’

‘You can say that again,’ Shenshen murmured. ‘And - oh, typical . The swotty broccoli strikes again.’

Galinda followed her line of sight to find Elphaba with her hand in the air. She hadn’t even realised that Dr Dillamond had asked a question to answer . She straightened up in her seat. It turned out that Elphaba was asking a question rather than answering, which was just like her. Instead of sitting and listening to the lecture like a normal student, she had to go and draw attention to herself and show off how engaged and intelligent and discerning she - no, no, no! It is not a good thing to be such an insufferable geek!

‘Does she ever take a day off?’ Shenshen muttered. ‘Honestly, it’s like she wants everyone’s eyes on her. If I looked like her, I’d do the decent thing and stay locked up somewhere out of sight.’ She let out a quiet chuckle, but Galinda didn’t join in. She didn’t know what Shenshen and the rest of the student populace saw, but in her eyes, Elphaba was quite beautiful, in a strange, beguiling sort of - stop it, right now!

Shenshen nudged her, as if annoyed that she hadn’t laughed along with her, and Galinda immediately let out a burst of laughter that was altogether much too loud. Heads snapped around to stare at her. 

‘Something amusing, Miss G-Glinda?’ Dillamond bleated. For a goat, he couldn’t half look irritated. 

Galinda felt her cheeks heat up. Shenshen had shrunk down in her seat - so much for camaraderie - and the weight of everyone’s gaze on them was making Galinda squirm. She liked attention, of course, but on her own terms. And there was a distinct difference between having attention and being the centre of it. The latter she never enjoyed. 

‘Um,’ she cleared her throat, trying to cling back to her usual unflappable energy, ‘I - it was a cough. Is it illegal to cough in class, Dr Dillamond?’

The students sniggered as Dillamond’s ears twitched in vexation.

‘Only when the cough is quite clearly an aggravating shriek of laughter.’

Galinda’s eyes locked onto Elphaba, her mouth falling open in outrage. Aggravating shriek? Just who does this girl think she is?!

‘Well perhaps I was unable to contain my laughter because I caught sight of that absolutely dastardly dress you have on,’ Galinda said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. ‘I mean, come on , Elphaba. Even you ought to know it’s wrong to rob a corpse of its burial outfit.’

That earned a ringing chorus of unkind laughter that made Galinda feel both relieved and a little guilty. But when Elphaba next opened her mouth to retort, the guilt was immediately replaced with embarrassment. 

‘You knew exactly what outfit I was wearing before we even set foot in here,’ Elphaba said, totally ignoring the laughter that erupted at her expense. ‘You spent most of your morning eyeing me from your mirror as I changed into it, after all.’

The laughter vanished as quickly as it started, and Galinda went a very peculiar shade of pink. She was extremely aware that everyone was staring at her again, and she felt the tips of her ears starting to burn with heat. 

‘I - well - I was just taken-aback by your repulsive form, if you must know!’ she snapped, her voice cracking. 

‘Uh-huh. Hence the unwavering observation.’

‘You -’

‘ - Settle down, girls,’ Dillamond said tiredly. ‘I’d rather not have to endure this back-and-forth every seminar, if I can help it. I do have a class to teach.’

‘Sorry, Dr Dillamond,’ Elphaba said immediately, lowering her gaze. Galinda merely folded her arms. Like heck she was going to apologise to that old goat when he still couldn’t pronounce her name properly. Fortunately, Dillamond knew better than to press the matter, and he seamlessly slid back into his teaching. Galinda didn’t know or care what he was talking about, and put her chin in her hand again. Her face still felt hot. 

Instead of paying attention, she blinked down at her desk, eyes flickering over the paper Dillamond had marked. A couple of days into their first week, he requested they put together an essay on The Great Drought - something that technically wasn’t in the curriculum, and Galinda’s result had…not been good. She pouted as she looked at the poor percentage scrawled over the top and myriad of corrections scrawled in red ink. She briefly wondered how Dillamond even held the pen that criticised her so, but, as with the equipment set up in his seminar room, he probably had an adapted piece. A savage part of her wished he didn’t - for at least then, he wouldn’t be able to make her feel all small and stupid for her failing grade. Thank goodness it doesn’t contribute to our final results, she thought to herself. 

Of course, Galinda’s academic struggles had been an enduring part of her life for as long as she could remember learning to read and write. Her teachers had called her every belittling phrase in the book - dopey, slow, woolley-headed - words gentle enough to her ears, until she realised they were trying to find a kinder way to call her stupid. She pressed her lips together, glowering at the 27% on her paper as if it had personally offended her. It had, in a way. It made her feel frustrated and embarrassed. It made her feel like a child again, fighting back tears when she couldn’t keep up in the tortuous weekly quizzes, no matter how hard she tried. And she did try. Maybe not as hard as she could in this particular case, but she wasn’t lazy. She just didn’t like History. Unfortunately, the trend had started to emerge in her other classes, too. But she didn’t really want to think about that.

The light in the seminar room suddenly darkened, and Galinda lifted her head up from her chin to find Dr Dillamond was setting up his custom made projector. Oz, he’s so grossly obsessed with his little slide decks , she frowned. She couldn’t give two hoots about what he was going on about, but Elphaba’s attention was rapt, as always. Galinda was a little jealous. The only times she really concentrated was when she was actually interested in what she was doing. Otherwise her mind would wander, and presently, she couldn’t help but imagine how pleasant it would be to be the object of Elphaba’s devout attention instead of teaching content, green eyes devouring every minute detail and movement - what in Oz are you thinking?! It would not be pleasant at all!

Galinda straightened up and gave herself a little shake, mentally berating herself for such an alarming - and inaccurate - train of thought, but for better or worse, her mind couldn’t linger on that, for the sudden sweep of shocked gasps rather derailed her. She blinked, trying to work out what she was seeing. As soon as Dr Dillamond flipped the blackboard, words in red were lit up by the burning projector, setting them ablaze.

Animals should be seen and not heard.

Dillamond was rattled. Murmurs erupted across the seminar room, making Galinda’s ears buzz. Then, several things happened at once. In his mounting fury and panic, Dillamond had demanded to know who was responsible, and Galinda whipped her head around at her fellow classmates, as if expecting them to raise their hands, to own up, they seemed just as startled as he was. For a moment, Galinda felt sorry for him. It wasn’t his fault he was Animal. Yes, she disliked him, but only because he taught the most boring subject in all of Oz and assumed, like most academics, that she was nothing but an airhead. He didn’t deserve such disdain. She watched, wide-eyed, as he ordered them out of the room. When no one moved, he said it again, louder, and stumbled back into a little table. 

Galinda’s breath caught in her throat as she saw a flower vase topple. Her hands instinctively shot to her ears, but it was too late - the vase tipped, met the ground, and the sound of shattering glass splintered in the space.

And then people started to move, gathering their things, stuffing books in bags and hurrying to get out as quickly as possible. A wave of collective embarrassment seemed to pulsate throughout the classroom - seeing an authority figure in distress was uncomfortable for the students - but Galinda was feeling uncomfortable for an entirely different reason. She stared at the broken glass, her jaw locking in place, fists clenching, palms sweating. 

‘Galinda, hurry up already,’ Shenshen scowled, on her feet and looming over her. Galinda, frozen in her seat, was blocking her from leaving. Her words got stuck in her throat, but she scrambled to her feet, knocking against the desk as she did so. 

‘S-Sorry,’ she stammered. Her chest was tight. The back of her neck was hot. No, no, no. Not now. Not here . 

Shenshen looked at her oddly. ‘It’s okay, don’t worry. But let’s get a move on, shall we? It’s rare class is dismissed so early. We might as well make the most of it.’

Galinda nodded, clutching her books to her chest, her dreadful assignment tucked out of sight in her notebook. She wavered a little as she stumbled after Pfannee as he led them out, eyes glued to the back of his head. She needed something else to focus on, something other than the breaking glass, the noise of it, so loud and grating and charged and - she gritted her teeth together. It was getting harder and harder to breathe. She hated herself for it.

Once they were out in the corridor - voices loud and overlapping as their classmates unpacked what they had just witnessed - Galinda realised it wasn’t just hard to breathe. She couldn’t breathe. Her grip around her books was whiteknuckled. She was trying to listen to what Pfannee and Shenshen were saying, trying to join in, but her words kept getting stuck in her throat. Is it tightening? I think it’s tightening. Oz, I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. I can’t - 

‘ - Galinda. Galinda!’

Panicked eyes snapped up to find Pfannee and Shenshen frowning at her as their fellow students dispersed around them.

‘Er - w-what?’ squeaked Galinda, her voice breathless, fractured, in pieces. 

‘We asked if you wanted to go to the sun room,’ Pfannee said, referring to a large, glittering conservatory on campus made up entirely of stained glass. It was a beautiful place, but Galinda had no desire to be anywhere else but somewhere private, quiet, where she could get a hold of herself and calm down . 

‘I - yes, I’ll join you, but I just -’ she struggled around a tight gasp that forced its way out of her throat, ‘ - need to use the bathroom. Yes, bathroom.’ She gestured vaguely down the corridor to where she knew the girls’ lavatory to be - not that she ever went in there. She couldn’t stand public restrooms, so full of germs, and much preferred making the trip back to her room to use the en suite. Unfortunately, that particular trait of hers had been noticed. 

‘Bathroom?’ Shenshen snorted. ‘Galinda, you hate the campus bathrooms. If you’re going all the way back to your dorm, then we can just come with you and hang out there instead.’

No, please, no - ‘It’s f-fine. I don’t mind. I’ll be quick.’

Not giving them another moment to protest, Galinda hastened away from them. Her shoulders had crept up to her ears, and she felt so rigid that it almost hurt to put one foot in front of the other. But she had to get out. Away. Away, yes, away . 

*

Elphaba hadn’t noticed she’d nicked her finger on the broken glass of the flower vase until she’d left Dillamond’s classroom. The sting of it only registered vaguely, and she looked down in surprise to see a thin line of blood blooming from her skin. Ever diligent, she headed for the restrooms to clean it. 

Elphaba wouldn’t describe herself a hypochondriac, per se, but she was likely a little too conscious about her own health. She knew where it stemmed from. It wasn’t hard to look inwards and pinpoint her assiduousness. She’d seen her mother after Nessa’s birth - just a glimpse, a harrowing, narrow line through the crack in the door - but the blood on the sheets and the slack expression on her face had been burned so viscerally into Elphaba’s eyes, that she used to imagine scrubbing them with a scouring sponge as if it could rid them of the image. That, coupled with the fact that she was rarely attended to when she was ill - Duclibear did her best, but she had so many other duties to attend to - meant that Elphaba worked a little too hard to ensure she never fell ill. And the cut, small though it was, was a breeding ground for infection if she didn’t clean it. 

She remembered when she was about 8, and she and Nessa had both fallen unwell with a stomach bug. Nessa had undivided attention from her father and staff, constantly topping up her water glass and dabbing her brow with a cooling towel. Elphaba, meanwhile, was left to curl up on the tiles of the bathroom floor, vomiting into the toilet with no one to hold her hair back. While Dulcibear had tried to reassure her that no, it’s not you, sweet thing, it’s just your sister is younger and less able than you are - Elphaba knew the truth. No one wanted to care for her. The message was clear. And from that episode on, Elphaba was left in her sickness - with the occasional fleeting visit from an increasingly busy Dulcibear - and she learnt her lesson. Do not slip up and let yourself get poorly. 

Sighing to herself, Elphaba pushed open the door of the bathroom and went inside. Mercifully, only one cubicle was occupied. Elphaba had seen one too many of her classmates grimace whenever she entered the bathroom, as if repulsed they evidently had to share with the likes of her , and she wasn’t in the mood for any additional hostility. Her mind was ablaze with anger for Dr Dillamond, for the cruel words on the blackboard, for the fact the only friend she’d actually made was her teacher -

A strange sound interrupted her manic thoughts. She paused from where she was about to turn on the tap and clean the cut, frowning. It sounded almost like a wheeze. Something strangled, something choked. Her ears strained to listen, but then she realised she was probably being weird, and turned on the tap. The water turned pink as it mixed with the blood from her finger, and she hissed in pain. She washed it thoroughly and dabbed it dry with her hankie - she certainly wasn’t going to use bog roll - and was just unwrapping one of the plasters she carried around with her when the noise came again, louder. It was unmistakable - someone was crying. 

Elphaba internally groaned. Walk away. It’s none of your business. Just walk away . They wouldn’t appreciate your help, anyway.

But she used to be the sort of girl to cry in the school bathrooms, too. Her goodness got the better of her.

‘Um,’ she cleared her throat, talking at the closed door, ‘sorry. Are you okay?’

The sound stopped for a moment, before a ragged, broken breath cut into the awkward silence of the bathroom. A loose tap dripped and Elphaba shifted on her feet. 

‘It’s alright,’ she said, at a loss. ‘I mean - it’s probably not , since you sound upset, but whatever it is, I’m sure it’ll be okay. Just - can I help, at all?’

Nothing. Only more snuffles, hitched breathing, the sound of someone struggling. Elphaba bit her lip. She didn’t know what to do . Should she leave? What would be the decent thing? Insist on being a listening ear? 

‘I…do you need a hankie? I’ve got a clean one here,’ she asked, cringing at herself. Naturally, she carried around several. ‘That is - well, the loo roll here isn’t particularly forgiving on one’s skin, is it?’

A tiny, broken whimper sounded from the cubicle. Elphaba edged closer, pressing her palm gently against the door. She imagined another hand on the other side, separated by the panel of wood.

‘It’s okay,’ she said softly. ‘Let me pass it under the door for you, okay?’

‘... Okay .’

The voice was raw, tight, in pieces. It made Elphaba’s chest hurt. Rummaging in her other pocket, she produced a fresh, pale green hankie embroidered with her initials, and stretched down to slip it through the gap in the door. There was a flash of a pale hand, of pink, perfectly painted nails, and the hankie was gone. Elphaba straightened up. 

‘Thank you,’ came the fragile voice. It sounded so uncertain, so scared . For a moment, Elphaba wanted to break the door down and take whoever was so upset in her arms, if only to reassure them for a moment. 

‘It’s not a problem.’ There was the distinctive sound of someone blowing their nose into it. ‘Er…You can keep it.’

A soft, watery laugh came from the cubicle, and a smile tugged at Elphaba’s lips. Laughter was a good sign. There was something oddly familiar about that sound, though, but she couldn’t place it. 

‘I hope you feel better soon,’ she said, fiddling with the strap of her bag. ‘I - er - I’ll leave you to it. But whatever has you so upset will probably all blow over, you know? Things always seem worse in the moment.’

There was no reply, just more sniffling, and Elphaba took that as her cue to leave. 

*

Galinda always took extremely long baths. It wouldn’t have bothered Elphaba if she didn’t think she was doing it on purpose. Her eyebrow twitching, she stared at the closed door, watching as steam unfurled from the thin crack above the floor and listening to Galinda’s tuneful singing. At least she can actually carry a tune , Elphaba thought. It would probably be the final straw if she sounded like a drowned cat. 

The rest of the day had ticked on - though talk of the incident in Dillamond’s class was rife - and come the evening, Elphaba was exhausted . All she wanted was to go through the bathroom so she could crawl into bed. Her lesson with Madame Morrible had been draining, considering she had finally managed to harness her power long enough to levitate a coin, and then she’d inadvertently crashed Dr Dillamond’s covert Animal gathering. The details of what he’d told her were deeply concerning - and that, coupled with enduring the usual jibes from her classmates - had all bundled up to make her thoroughly vexed. She wanted to sleep , and Galinda was getting in the way of that. 

‘Galinda!’ she said, putting her palm against the door. ‘Get a move on. You’ve been in there for ages , and some of us want a full night’s rest!’

‘ Mmm, beauty sleep, is it? ’ came Galinda’s tittering voice. ‘ I can’t say it’s working particularly well for you. ’

Elphaba’s nostrils flared. ‘Well at least I don’t spend hours in the bathroom preening myself like some sort of self-absorbed peacock.’

Galinda let out a gasp, and Elphaba heard a violent splash of water, as if Galinda had hurled her fist into it. ‘ Peacock? Don’t compare me to a horrible old bird , Elphaba. ’

‘Then perhaps you’d rather I likened you to a pig, since you’re such a bathroom hog .’

The ensuing shriek of outrage made Elphaba smirk, and it had the desired effect. Not five minutes later, Galinda burst from the bathroom in a sweet-smelling cloud of steam, eyes flashing, cheeks flushed from the heat of her bath.

‘You’re looking a bit pink in the face, Galinda,’ Elphaba grinned. ‘Careful, otherwise you really won’t be able to fight the hog allegations.’

Galinda, if possible, went even pinker . 

‘Just - ugh, get out of my way!’ she snarled, deliberately clipping Elphaba’s shoulder as she did so. ‘And anyway, I’d much rather be pink than a disgusting green like you !’

Elphaba didn’t bother replying. She’d got what she wanted - an empty bathroom. She shut the door and slid the lock, biting the insides of her cheeks to stop herself from laughing. It was so easy to wind Galinda up. She put her pyjamas on top of the closed toilet seat - since that morning when she felt Galinda looking at her critically when she was changing, she decided she’d rather have some privacy. Though come to think of it, was it really what I’d call a critical gaze? She seemed - no, don’t be ridiculous. 

Shaking her head, Elphaba tugged her dress off. Galinda had been mortified to learn that they had to do their own laundry - what makes them think I have the foggiest idea how to do that?! - and was even more irate when she realised there was only one laundry hamper. She had given Elphaba a wicker basket to use so neither girl would have to sort through the other’s dirty clothes. To the untrained eye, such a gesture seemed quite kind, but Elphaba knew it was because Galinda quite simply didn’t want to share. 

Rolling her eyes at the fuss she had kicked up, Elphaba bundled up her dress and dropped it into the assigned basket. As she started to unbutton her shirt, her eyes caught sight of something very odd in Galinda’s hamper. There was a scrap of green amongst the pink. Elphaba’s mouth fell open. She let her curiosity get the better of her and nudged aside her - oh, Oz, that’s a pair of her underwear! Why is it so small?! - and found her hankie, embroidered initials and all, nestled between a lone sock and a shirt sleeve. She blinked at it for a moment, wondering how it got there. She always handwashed her handkerchiefs, given their delicate fabric and personalised stitching, and it meant she could sterilise them properly at a hotter temperature than normal garments. So, it wasn’t a case that she’d mistakenly dropped it into Galinda’s hamper. Then what is it doing here?

The realisation hit her like a frying pan to the head. She whirled around to look at the bathroom door, as if expecting Galinda to notice the slip-up and come storming in to correct it. But she didn’t, of course. Elphaba let out a sharp breath. It had been Galinda in the bathroom earlier, sounding so dreadfully distressed. A nasty wash of guilt swarmed up from Elphaba’s gut. Did I upset her because of what I said in class? What other possible reason would Galinda Upland, of all people, have to cry about?

Her mind whirring, Elphaba secured her braids in a bonnet and quickly hopped into the shower. Unlike her roommate, she didn’t like to waste her time languishing in the tub, and instead scrubbed herself quickly and efficiently beneath the shower head. Should I say something? she pondered, as she rooted around the shower caddy to try and find her body wash. Galinda’s various bathing products took up 99% of the space, and Elphaba couldn’t even name some of them, let alone know what they were for. But the girl did always smell extremely pleasant, so Elphaba couldn’t really complain - wait. That’s a peculiar thing to think, isn’t it? Shaking her head, Elphaba worked a blob of her plain body wash between her palms and cleaned herself. 

When she was all finished and content in her pyjamas, she glanced at the hankie again. Without really knowing what she was doing, she snatched it up, opened the bathroom door, and found Galinda at her vanity. The girl was scrupulously going through her skincare routine, her hair wrapped up in a fluffy pink towel. Elphaba watched her for a moment, admiring the gentle curve where her neck met her shoulder, and immediately wondered why in Oz she’d be thinking about that. Holding the handkerchief behind her back, she cleared her throat. Galinda eyed her from the mirror.

‘If you’re going to try and coax out an apology for how long I took in the bathroom, then don’t bother,’ she scowled, tugging off the stopper of one of many bottles littering her vanity.

‘I wasn’t going to. I’d have better luck talking to a brick wall.’

‘Are you calling me dense ?’

‘Sure, if you like,’ Elphaba shrugged.

Galinda glowered at her. ‘If you must know, I spend a lot of time in the bathroom because I actually care about my appearance, and seek to refine it.’ Elphaba watched her lips twist into an unkind smirk. ‘Not that you’d know anything about that. Where did you find that hideous nightdress, Elphaba? At an outlet for the fashionably inept?’

‘I don’t actually recall asking why you spend a lifetime in the bathroom,’ Elphaba said, her eyebrow twitching in annoyance. 

‘Then why are you staring at me? Dazzled, are we?’ For good measure, she went to toss her hair, but had clearly forgotten it was bundled up in her towel. She froze, frowned, and her cheeks flushed a little. Elphaba did her best to stop herself from laughing, considering the dangerous territory she was about to brave. 

‘I wanted to ask you about this,’ she said, taking the hankie from behind her back. Galinda really did freeze, then. Elphaba watched with growing trepidation as the pink blush steadily spread all over her face, brightening the tips of her ears and her nose. 

‘It’s fine,’ Elphaba added quickly as Galinda’s shoulders stiffened, creeping up to her ears. ‘I mean - it doesn’t matter. I was just…I was wondering if you were, you know, okay?’

Galinda seemed to take a moment to process what was happening, her eyes wide. The bottle she was holding had started to shake a little. Oh, great, Elphaba thought. I’m making a real pig’s ear of this. 

‘...You sounded really upset,’ she continued, wishing she’d planned the conversion ahead of time. ‘And I - I was worried it was because of what I said in the seminar. About you watching me while I changed.’

Galinda went so pink that she matched her robe. ‘I - I didn’t - I have no idea what you’re talking about.’ She said it in a rush, as if the words were being sucked out of her in one hurried breath. Elphaba arched an eyebrow. 

‘No? So it wasn’t you in the bathroom, then? It wasn’t your pink nails I saw when I gave you the hankie, and it,’ - she waved the green scrap sarcastically in the air - ‘just happened to appear in your laundry hamper? I wasn’t born yesterday, Galinda.’

‘Why do you even care ?’ Galinda snarled, her voice trembling. 

‘Because if I upset you, I want to apologise for it.’

Galinda’s mouth fell open. ‘W-What?’

Elphaba lowered the hankie. ‘...Look, I know we have our differences and we have the odd disagreement, but Oz, Galinda, I don’t want to make you cry .’

‘You didn’t.’

‘If you’re trying to pretend that wasn’t you in the bathroom, then -’

‘ - No,’ Galinda interrupted quickly, putting the bottle she was holding back on the vanity with a dull thunk . ‘I - you didn’t upset me. I was…’ she trailed off, her face twisted as if she was in pain. ‘...Practicing.’

‘Practicing?’ spluttered Elphaba, at a loss. ‘What do you mean, practicing ?’

‘For the amateur dramatics society that I intend to join,’ Galinda said, without missing a beat. ‘Shiz University has a very well-established reputation in that field - not that you’d know, since you just stumbled onto campus like some lost runt of the litter.’

‘Galinda, you are aware that I’m not braindead, right?’

‘Huh?’

Elphaba nearly slapped her own forehead in vexation. ‘You weren’t practicing fake crying for the bloody Dramatics Society, for goodness sake! And Oz, even if you were, why would you do it in the public bathrooms? I know you hate them.’

‘I - why would you - have you been stalking me?’ Galinda stammered.

‘Don’t be ridiculous. Anyone with eyes can see that you scurry off between classes. And, though it frequently seems to escape your notice, I do live here. I notice when you dash back and forth.’

‘Ew. Your obsession with me really knows no bounds.’

‘Oh, for goodness sake,’ Elphaba hissed, balling the hankie in her fist and cringing a little when she felt it squelch. ‘I was just trying to make sure you were alright, but I suppose I won’t bother in future. A word of advice, though…’ She marched forward and dropped the hankie on Galinda’s vanity. ‘You might want to work on choking back your sobs a little. You were being dreadfully loud.’

Galinda blinked at the handkerchief. Her lips were pressed in a thin line. 

‘I meant it when I said you can keep that,’ Elphaba muttered, pointing at it with a sharp jab in the air. ‘Seems like you need it more than I do.’

‘I’m going to burn it, thank you very much,’ Galinda spat. ‘I don’t use things without a very high threadcount.’

‘Oz, you really are an ungrateful snob, aren’t you?’ Elphaba said. ‘For a moment, I was fooled into thinking you were actually human , but I won’t make that mistake again.’

‘ Me ?’ Galinda snorted, getting to her feet. ‘ I’m not human? Have you looked in a mirror lately, Elphaba? In case it escaped your notice, you’re literally green !’

‘And that makes me - what - subhuman?’

‘It certainly makes you something , yes,’ Galinda snarled. ‘Repulsive. Peculiar. Malformed.’

Elphaba felt her face grow hot with anger, magic bubbling just under the surface of her skin. She clenched her fists, trying to hold it back. ‘Don’t call me that. Just because I look a little different, it - it doesn’t mean I’m malformed .’

Galinda smirked, realising she’d hit a nerve. ‘No? What does it make you then, Miss Elphaba? Because in my eyes, your grotesque appearance is something that desperately needs to be fixed. Won’t you think of other people for a change, and how unpleasant it is for us to have to look at you?’

Elphaba’s nails dug into her palms, and she expelled a shaky breath. ‘If I’m such a horror, why are you constantly staring at me? Don’t think I can’t feel your eyes on me.’

‘Don’t flatter yourself,’ Galinda drawled, leaning back on her vanity. ‘The only reason you’ll catch me looking at you is because I’m trying to ascertain who let you outside. The decent thing would be to lock you up and throw away the key.’

Before she even realised she had done it, Elphaba’s control snapped like a fishing wire. She had heard those words so many times before - from the cruel children back in Munchkinland, jeering at her as they chased her through the poppy fields; from the political advisers that swarmed her father’s estate, telling him to keep that girl out of sight, lest she ruin the chances of re-election ; and even from her father herself, who would sneer when he looked at her, wondering how she could’ve come from him . She should’ve gotten used to it by now. But it hurt every single time. 

Magic burst out of her in a whip of frustration and caught several of the bottles Galinda kept on her vanity - perfumes and creams and serums - and sent them flying. They smashed against the floor in spectacular fashion, scattering bits of glass and liquid, and Elphaba let out a strangled gasp. She closed her eyes, willing herself to hold back , her whole body taut and tense, and the magic vanished as quickly as it appeared. Panting, she pressed the heel of her palm to her forehead, heat burning behind her eyes, hands shaking. 

‘... Shit ,’ she whispered, more to herself than to Galinda. She thought, given the handful of classes she’d had under Morrible, she might’ve started to gain some semblance of control. But Galinda, it seemed, knew just which buttons to press. Swallowing, Elphaba brought her gaze up to Galinda, opening her mouth to apologise, but immediately noticed something was amiss. 

‘I - Galinda, are you okay? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean -’ Elphaba cut herself off, staring as the girl in front of her started to crumble.

Galinda was shaking, her hands clasped over her ears, and her eyes seemed to be locked onto something very far away. Elphaba glanced over her shoulder, as if expecting to see a blood thirsty creature on the approach given Galinda’s expression, but there was nothing. She turned back, wide-eyed, and watched in horror as Galinda let out a tight, whimpering gasp. 

‘Oz, Galinda, I’m really sorry,’ Elphaba said quickly, not knowing what to do. ‘I wasn’t going to hurt you. I just - sometimes I lose my cool and things go flying. I didn’t mean to. I promise.’

But Galinda wasn’t listening. Her breaths were coming shorter and faster, her chest rising and falling so quickly that Elphaba could hardly keep up, and small, panicked wheezes spluttered from her lips. Elphaba stared at her. She sounded like she couldn’t breathe. 

‘...Um, should I - should I get someone?’ she whispered, totally at a loss. The frantic shake of her blonde head seemed to suggest no, that was a terrible idea. ‘Okay, okay. I - can you try and breathe for me, Galinda? Just - you sound like you can’t and it’s starting to freak me out.’

Galinda let out a tiny sob, her eyes filling with tears. She dropped her hands from her ears and buried her face in them instead. Great. This isn’t going well at all, Elphaba gulped, feeling a nasty combination of guilt and worry. 

‘It’s okay,’ she said, edging closer. Tentatively, as if was dealing with a wild animal, she put a hand on Galinda’s shoulder. The girl flinched at the touch but didn’t move away, which Elphaba took as a positive. ‘Can you look at me? Please.’

With considerable effort, Galinda lifted her head from her hands, but didn’t look at her. ‘G-Go away .’

‘What?’

‘ Go away! ’ Galinda shouted, her voice hoarse and thick with tears. Elphaba started backwards in shock. She’d never heard Galinda raise her voice like that, even when they’d been arguing all day. Her lips parted. Galinda clutched at the front of her robe, struggling through a breath, squeezing her eyes shut.

Now, Elphaba knew the path of least resistance would be to leave Galinda to whatever the heck she was dealing with, and retreat to the sanctuary of the bathroom - or better yet, the library. But as she watched the girl trembling against the vanity, unable to breathe properly and looking genuinely terrified, she realised she couldn’t. Just as in the lavatory earlier, her good heart struck again. And she stayed. 

‘I’m not going anywhere while you’re so upset,’ she said firmly. She put both of her hands on Galinda’s shoulders. ‘Look at me.’

‘Elphaba, will you just - just go ,’ Galinda choked out, her head bowed. 

‘ Look at me .’

Galinda did as she was told, lower lip trembling. Her eyes were red and wet. 

‘Good,’ Elphaba said softly. ‘Now, I want you to try and follow my breathing with me, okay? It’ll help you feel better.’

With a whimper, Galinda nodded. Elphaba gave her a small smile and breathed in slowly through her nostrils for five seconds, and out for another five. Galinda followed along as best she could, but a breath got stuck in her throat, and spluttered, her eyes widening.

‘I - I c-can’t, I can’t -’

‘- You can,’ soothed Elphaba. ‘It’s alright.’

‘N-no, it’s not like last time, I - I actually can’t breathe, I can’t breathe -’

Elphaba then did something she’d never done before. She dropped her hands from Galinda’s shoulders, and instead laced their fingers together. Galinda froze, staring down at her lap, at the green, and she let out a shuddering, retching breath. It sounded almost painful.

‘Keep breathing with me,’ Elphaba encouraged, rubbing small circles over the backs of Galinda’s hands with her thumbs. ‘Slow, steady, and calm.’

In a way, breathing along with Galinda was also calming Elphaba down. While she did her best not to show it, she could feel her heart hammering in her chest. She was aware that her palms were slick with sweat, but Galinda’s were, too, so she hoped the girl wouldn’t notice. 

‘You’re doing perfectly,’ she murmured, watching as Galinda’s breathing started to settle. Her body spasmed now and again with residual sobs, shoulders flinching and hands squeezing, and each time she did, Elphaba felt worse . She didn’t mean to frighten her. Was she actually afraid of her?

Biting her lip, Elphaba looked around at the mess of glass. That was the second time she’d manage to break something in the suite - the first being the balcony window. She frowned. Come to think of it, Galinda acted weirdly after that, too. She really must be freaked out by my magic . But of course, there was the incident today , when she had been crying for some undisclosed reason after Dillamond’s class, which was what had started the current altercation in the first place. What is with her?

Elphaba glanced up when Galinda withdrew her hands to wipe at her eyes, her breath stuttering. She seemed to have calmed down. 

‘... Sorry .’

She said it so quietly, Elphaba thought she might’ve imagined it. She swallowed, realising it was the first time she’d heard the girl actually say that. Oddly enough, it didn’t feel particularly good to hear it.

‘I’m the one who should be apologising,’ replied Elphaba, as Galinda wrung her hands together, not looking at her. ‘I’ll - I’ll replace everything I broke, of course, though you’ll have to tell me what exactly they are. And…’ she let out a long sigh, wishing Galinda would stop shaking so much. ‘...I’m sorry for scaring you. Really. I’d never want to make you feel that way.’

Galinda let out a small gasp, eyes snapping up. Her eyelashes were stuck together with stray tears. ‘Oh, Elphaba - you didn’t.’

‘Then why…?’

‘It’s -’ Galinda seemed to struggle with herself for a moment. ‘ - Oz, it doesn’t matter. I just, um, wasn’t expecting it. But you didn’t scare me. Please don’t carry that around with you.’

Elphaba didn’t believe her. Why else would she react like that? ‘...Okay. I - I’ll go and fetch a broom to clear up all the glass. That’s the second time today.’

‘What?’

‘After Dillamond’s class,’ Elphaba said, moving away from the vanity, ‘I stayed behind and helped him clear up the broken vase. That’s how this happened.’ She held up her bandaged finger with a bashful smile. 

‘R-Right,’ Galinda mumbled. She had drawn her arms around herself and was squeezing her midriff as if in an embrace. ‘Um…Well, that was nice of you, I guess.’

‘Contrary to popular belief, I am pretty nice.’

‘Yes. Er - thanks. For the hankie. And for…for staying.’ She said the last part with obvious difficulty, her face turning pink. Elphaba quickly realised she was feeling embarrassed.

‘It’s okay, honestly,’ she said, waving a hand in the air. ‘Now, I’ll go and fetch that broom. Be careful if you’re going to be moving around, alright? There are bits of glass everywhere.’

‘Okay, yes. Right.’

With another awkward look at the tearful blonde, Elphaba spun on her heels and hastened from the suite. She wanted to give Galinda a moment alone to collect herself, and went to hunt for a broom. 

*

Later, as the girls lay in silence, Galinda couldn’t sleep . And it wasn’t just because of her confusing cocktail of thoughts that seemed to pool and whirl around Elphaba - well, it was , but it was for a different reason this time around. Biting her lip, Galinda drummed her fingers against her hand, arms folded above the duvet, eyes open in the darkness. 

Elphaba had been genuinely worried that she’d scared her, and Galinda, much to her frustration, could not stop thinking about it. She let out a large sigh, not caring how loud she was being - she knew her roommate was stewing the shadows, too, since she kept tossing and turning. Galinda, as much as she refused to admit it to herself, didn’t want Elphaba to worry. She didn’t want her to feel the need to walk on eggshells around her, as if concerned she might startle her. She didn’t want her to think she was…fragile. Closing her eyes, Galinda felt her face redden. She couldn’t believe she’d let herself lose control like that. Twice in one day, no less. It was indeed just a string of unfortunate circumstances, but still, the embarrassment of it all made her body burn. She wasn’t supposed to slip up in such a manner. Not anymore. That was what she’d promised herself when she came to Shiz. 

Galinda’s mother, Larena, referred to the wretched episodes as ‘meltdowns’. Galinda hated the word, but she didn’t know what else to call them. They made her eyesight blur, her palms sweat, her chest tighten, and her mind freeze up. And despite her best efforts, she often couldn’t help it when something wrong happened. It wasn’t as if she did it on purpose. She didn’t want to get so worked up - and her parents certainly didn’t want her to, either. They would hiss at her to stop it , and when she couldn’t, their voices would raise and bounce off the walls until she could do nothing but wheeze and cower, waiting for the panic to work its way out of her system, often alone. Her parents didn’t care to see her in such a state, and she quickly learnt that it was shameful and unbecoming to panic in such a visceral way. So, she would find somewhere to shut herself away, letting it shatter through her system until she had the wherewithal to actually suck a breath into her lungs.

She knew what caused them, by now. It wasn’t as if they simply appeared one day. And it wasn’t as if she thought it was normal , but who could she even talk about it with? Shenshen and Pfannee were her friends, that much was true, but it was surface level at best. Besides, surely she’d just be laughed out of the room if she tried to explain that she couldn’t handle it when - she shook her head against the pillows, gritting her teeth together. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

Rolling over onto her side, Galinda bundled her duvet to her chest and cuddled it. She missed home, sometimes. It had only been a week, but she thought she would’ve scrubbed out the childish yearning for her bed, her blankets, the sounds of the manor settling down for sleep. She wondered if Elphaba missed home, too. We’re just two girls, really, away from our families for the first time. The nasty wiggle of guilt she’d been feeling lately reared its ugly head again as she thought about how cruel she had been earlier. She’d said some horrible things. She’d made Elphaba lose her temper - and Elphaba ended up being the one to feel terrible about it. She does need to get a handle on her magic, but really, she had no reason to stay with me after everything I said…

Galinda didn’t really know what provoked her to do it - sleep deprivation, guilt, a desperation to make sure Elphaba didn’t feel responsible for what happened, or a combination of all three - but before she knew what she was doing, she cleared her throat in the darkness. It was easier, in a way, to speak when Elphaba couldn’t actually see her. 

‘Um…Are you still awake?’ she said. Her voice sounded too loud in the quiet of the night.

‘Yes,’ came Elphaba’s voice. ‘Are you okay?’

Galinda nodded, but then realised Elphaba couldn’t see her. ‘Er, yeah. I’m fine. I just…can’t sleep.’

‘You and me both.’

There was a strained silence as Galinda toyed with what she wanted to say. ‘I…I was thinking about earlier. I just wanted to - to make sure that you were okay, Elphaba. We didn’t really speak after you came back, and I -’ she cut herself off, worried she was rambling. Her mother always told her off for ‘babbling’, as she called it. 

‘Why wouldn’t I be okay?’ said Elphaba, sounding genuinely confused. ‘I’m not the one who…’

‘Because I really don’t want you thinking that you scared me, okay?’ 

There was a long pause. Galinda snuggled the duvet against her even more, squeezing her eyes shut. Oz, say something, you horrid green thing!

‘Then what did scare you, Galinda?’

Anything but that . ‘Um…It’s not - it isn’t important. I just - I know I tease you about being a bit of a freak or whatever, but I don’t - er - I’m not afraid of you. And I’d really hate it if you thought I was.’

‘Right,’ muttered Elphaba. ‘And why is that? Because you’re worried I’ll think you a coward?’

‘No, because I’m worried you’ll think of yourself as someone to be feared.’

‘...What?’ Elphaba’s voice was so quiet that Galinda’s ears strained to hear her. She fiddled with the frilled hem of her duvet.

‘I suppose that it would be a terribly burdensome thing,’ said Galinda softly, ‘to believe others are frightened of you. Especially when you’re…evidently quite kind.’ The quiet stretched on. ‘...Um, Elphaba? Are you still there?’

‘I’m still here.’

‘Did you hear what I said?’

‘Yeah. Just…thinking about it, I guess.’

‘Right.’

They lie in silence for what felt like a lifetime for Galinda, until Elphaba started to talk. Really talk.

‘I do appreciate you saying that, Galinda,’ she murmured. ‘You’ve no idea how many times I’ve been called…well, a monster . You get told that just once, and it sticks. Not to mention how many people recoil when they see me, or Oz forbid if I try to touch them.’ Galinda heard her swallow thickly. ‘I remember when I…When I was little, a balloon maker visited my hometown. All the kids were so excited - me included - and he made balloon animals for everyone who had gathered to watch him. He even gave me one, which was a surprise. I was so happy. I didn’t - er - I didn’t often get gifts.’ She paused, sniffing, and Galinda’s chest tightened. ‘A-Anyway, I wanted to show him how pleased I was, so I tried to hug him, and…’ she trailed off, and Galinda filled in the blanks. ‘Let’s just say I ended up in the dirt. I was a child, and a fully grown man thought I - I was some sort of beast. He looked scared of me. And earlier, when you started to panic so much, I just thought that I’d…that I’d frightened you.’

Galinda pressed her lips together, unable to bear the image of a tiny Elphaba being shoved aside when she just wanted a hug . ‘...Elphaba, I promise you, it wasn’t. I know you wouldn’t hurt me. Oz, you wouldn’t hurt a fly, as far as I can tell. Not many people would offer a hankie to a stranger in the bathroom, or stay behind and help a teacher clean up a broken vase.’

Elphaba chuckled quietly. ‘I suppose that’s true. And if you don’t mind me asking…What had you so upset?’

Galinda swallowed. ‘Which time?’

‘Both, I suppose.’

‘Um…You’ll think it’s stupid,’ she mumbled, burying her face into her duvet. 

‘If it upsets you, it’s not stupid.’

Galinda’s breath caught in her throat. No one had said that to her before. She was brought up to believe her tears were foolish, histrionic, improper . She thought about all the times she’d curled up in her bed and cried all night, stuffing her mouth with her blanket so no one would hear her. The nights at boarding school where the other girls in her dorm thought there was a ghost - nicknamed The Whimpering Lady - because she had to hold everything back until she got to her room. Her mother’s raised voice. Her father’s short fuse. And the -

‘ - It’s the glass,’ she whispered, almost without meaning to say it at all.

‘What do you mean?’

‘The glass, it’s - the sound of it breaking.’

She heard Elphaba suck in a breath and pictured the lightbulb flickering above her head. ‘So…that first day, when I broke the balcony window and you clammed up…’

‘Yes.’

‘And today, when Dr Dillamond broke his vase? You got upset and went to the bathroom?’

‘Yes.’

‘And this evening -’

‘Oz, yes , Elphaba, how many times do I have to say it?’ Galinda hissed, a flash of shame making her ears burn. 

‘Right, sorry. Sorry.’ She heard Elphaba gulp. ‘Um…Can I ask why?’

Galinda nearly told her to mind her own business, but she caught herself at the last moment. Elphaba had been kind. She’d stayed with her. She’d calmed her down. No one had done that for her since she was a very young child, when tears and meltdowns were acceptable. She swallowed down her fear. 

‘It’s…Popsicle.’

‘Popsicle?’

‘My father,’ Galinda mumbled. ‘And before you get the wrong idea, he’s truly wonderful and caring and kind, but he - he can get a bit stressed sometimes. His way of dealing with that is to…Well, he smashes stuff. If you catch him at the wrong time, he’ll - he’ll throw things. Not at anyone, of course, just…in the general vicinity.’

‘Oh.’ 

‘Yeah.’ Galinda paused, gathering herself as she felt her eyes growing hot. ‘I suppose I just - well, that’s what scares me, Elphaba. A-And when I hear it happening, I feel like I’m stuck in his office, watching him break the crystalwear, wondering if one of the champagne flutes is going to stray off course and -’ she stopped herself from talking. She didn’t want to think about that. Objectively, she knew her father never hurt her, but watching him turn puce and having to stand there as he yelled and raged and smashed frightened her more than she ever let on. She didn’t even realise it had become an issue until one of their dinner guests dropped his wine glass when she was ten - her first ‘grown-up’ function, when was allowed to stay up late and sample the canapés - and she had to banish herself to her room as a deep panic grabbed hold of her senses. And she tried . She tried to tell her mind that she wasn’t in any danger, that she never was, because her father loved her, because he would lift her up and spin her around in his arms, because he would buy her lavish gifts from his business trips, because he would kiss her forehead and call her his pumpkin . She didn’t need to be scared.

But she couldn’t help it.

‘Um…You realise that isn’t okay, right?’

Galinda blinked in the darkness. ‘Huh?’

‘To grow up and witness that sort of behaviour isn’t okay, Galinda,’ Elphaba said. Her voice was firm and resolute. ‘I’m sorry that happened. It’s no wonder you get scared.’

‘Don’t patronise me,’ Galinda spat.

‘I’m not,’ said Elphaba patiently. ‘I really mean it.’

‘...Really?’

‘Oz, Galinda, of course. Breaking glass makes anyone jump, you know, let alone when you associate it with such anger. I…I’ll make sure not to lose control and break anything else, okay?’

Galinda's eyes grew hotter still. ‘...You don’t have to -’

‘ - Of course I do. Of course I do.’

Her words settled in the darkness of the room, and Galinda felt her throat constrict. She didn’t quite know what she’d been expecting - laughter, scorn, disbelief, being told she was dramatic or silly for getting so worked up - but Elphaba, once again, had surprised her. She’d met her fear with kindness and understanding. Galinda hadn’t seen that coming.

‘Um…thank you, Elphaba,’ she mumbled.

‘You don’t need to thank me. But I’m glad you told me,’ came Elphaba’s voice. 

‘Me too. I think.’

‘Good.’

‘...Yeah, good.’

It was awkward. It was strained. Galinda’s face burned, and Elphaba’s voice wavered. But it was a start. 

Chapter Text

Chapter Two: Stains

Somewhat foolishly, perhaps, Elphaba thought she and Galinda might’ve reached a truce following the broken glass debacle. But the following morning, Galinda behaved as if it had never happened - as if she hadn’t shared something incredibly personal with Elphaba, as if she hadn’t gone out of her way to make certain Elphaba knew she wasn’t afraid of her, and as if she hadn’t had a full blown panic attack in front of her. 

No, Galinda acted as normal. And ‘normal’, at least in Elphaba’s eyes, was another phrase for being exceedingly insufferable. She stormed around the suite in her usual fashion - that being noisily and obnoxiously - and had fired out a total of four insults surrounding Elphaba’s fashion choices before she’d even finished putting on her makeup. Elphaba didn’t rise to the bait. She was trying to give Galinda the benefit of the doubt, deciding she must’ve been feeling embarrassed and vulnerable from their late-night chat, and was acting extra abrasive because of it. 

By breakfast, though, Elphaba had run out of patience. 

‘Do you think she has to eat so much to fuel her swotty nature, or does being a slimy little know-it-all come naturally to her?’ Galinda said loudly, just as Elphaba was strolling by her table with her morning mountain of cereal. Granted, it was arguably a large portion, but she was hungry. And so what?! The surrounding students burst into a grating symphony of laughter, and Elphaba froze, her grip around her tray tightening. 

‘I mean,’ drawled Galinda, waving a manicured hand in the air, ‘surely that’s enough food to feed a family of five.’

‘It’s called brain food, Galinda,’ Elphaba muttered. ‘You should try it sometime. Might help with your grades.’

‘ Oooh ,’ whistled Shenshen in amusement, unable to help herself. The smile slid off Galinda's face and practically landed in her cup of tea. 

‘Well - I - I’d rather have a good reputation than be such an insufferable nerd!’ she shot back, but it was lacking its usual bite and impact. Only a couple of her friends laughed, then, and she went pink. 

‘Mmm, reputation . I’m sure that will get you far in life,’ Elphaba smirked. ‘And you know, instead of worrying about my breakfast, you ought to think about your own - not sure if anyone’s told you this, Galinda, but half a spoonful of yoghurt doesn’t constitute a meal.’

‘And you don’t constitute a - a -’ she struggled with herself, her eyebrows knitting together in a rather endearing way - huh? What? Why in Oz would I think that? If anything, they’re too theatrical!

‘ - Take your time,’ Elphaba said, rolling her eyes. ‘It’s not like my cereal is getting soggy or anything.’

‘Oh, go away, you horrid green thing!’ she snapped, practically stamping her foot under the table. 

‘With pleasure. Have a wonderful morning,’ said Elphaba, in a voice so thick with sarcasm that Galinda seemed to shudder in her seat. 

Oddly enough, though, leaving Galinda to stew with her friends to unpack their latest altercation - ‘ You did see that disgustingly huge portion she had, right? Right?! Galinda squeaked frantically in the distance - didn’t feel as good as it used to. Elphaba let out a sigh as she sat down, alone, and wondered if the Galinda she’d spoken to last night had somehow been kidnapped and replaced by an extra mean clone. As much as she wanted to fight back with her usual vigor, Elphaba couldn’t help but look at her and see the snivelling mess she’d been, trembling against the vanity and unable to suck in a breath. Glancing over her shoulder, she eyed Galinda, who was rather forlornly spooning some of the yoghurt into her mouth. She looks tired. I suppose panic attacks really take it out of you. 

Elphaba hadn’t slept much better herself. After they’d finished talking - or rather, Galinda noisily turned over in an attempt to show that the conversation was very much over - Elphaba had kept her eyes open, nibbling her lower lip. She couldn’t stop thinking about it. She also couldn’t believe she’d told her arch nemesis about the balloon maker. It wasn’t a memory Elphaba much liked to remember, for obvious reasons, but it had slipped out before she could help herself. It might’ve been the time of night, or the darkness of the suite, or even an attempt to make Galinda feel less vulnerable, but she hadn’t meant to. She’d learnt to keep her painful memories clasped tightly in her fist, no matter how much they might’ve burned. And she had a suspicion that Galinda had picked up a similar habit. How strange, she thought glumly, that we managed to coax it out of each other. 

*

Galinda was fuming . 

The exchange at breakfast aside, she was quite certain she’d never hated her roommate more. How dare she swan about the place and act like nothing happened?! Muttering under her breath, Galinda popped a strawberry in her mouth. They were out of season and a little sour, but she swallowed it down without complaint. Pfannee had brought them especially, after all, and she wasn’t about to quite literally spit them back in his face. 

She, Pfannee, Shenshen and Milla were lounging in the sunroom between classes under the guise of a ‘study session’ - which, really, was code for sitting around and sharing snacks. Shenshen was least trying to work, and had been dutifully thumbing through a tortuous-looking Astronomy textbook for the better part of half an hour. Pfannee hadn’t flipped open his notebook, and as far as Galinda could see, Milla didn’t even have her bag with her. Studying indeed , she smirked, taking another strawberry. For her part, she had a History book open on the sofa next to her, but hadn’t yet turned a page. 

‘I’ll tell you what,’ Milla said, through a mouthful of onion-smelling crackers that Galinda had turned her nose up at for fear of developing bad breath, ‘my mother was all university is extremely strict this, and very hard work that, but I swear this,’ - she gestured around the room, where most of sofas and chairs were occupied by chattering students - ‘is way more laid back than school. I mean, they quite literally don’t care what we do between classes as long as we show up.’

‘Even showing up isn’t wholly necessary,’ Pfannee grinned. ‘I skipped out on a lecture the other day and no one batted an eye. It was great!’

‘Great?’ spluttered Shenshen. ‘Pfan, you did nothing but cower in the north wing stationery cupboard because you were so worried about getting caught.’

‘That - that is a completely inaccurate depiction of what happened!’ Pfannee said, his mouth falling open in outrage.

‘Of course, of course. I forgot to add that you were crying the whole time.’

Galinda giggled behind her hand when Pfannee launched a cracker at Shenshen’s head. She counted herself lucky to have formed a firm group of friends in her first week, even if they might not have been that close. It was important to her to have people to waste time with, to follow her around and fawn over her. Once upon a time - though she would never admit it - she found it hard to make friends. She spent most of her first year at boarding school, when she was eleven, wandering the corridors and trying desperately to insert herself into conversations she evidently wasn’t welcome in. It took her a couple of years - and firm instructions from her socialite mother - to learn that nonchalance and dressing well would attract people, and by the time she was sixteen, she had the entire student populace eating out of the palm of her hand. But she never forgot the feeling of being unwanted by the girls her own age, of enduring their catty comments and fighting back tears in the mess hall when they refused to sit with her. It wasn’t exactly something she wanted to remember. 

I wonder why I give Elphaba a hard time, then, if I know what it’s like?

Galinda flinched in her seat, nearly choking on her strawberry. No, no! That’s different! Elphaba deserves it for being such a weirdo! 

‘You okay, Galinda?’ said Milla, frowning as she fought back a coughing fit.

Galinda shot her a strained smile. ‘Y-Yeah! Just went down the wrong way, that’s all.’

‘You’re making quick work of them,’ Pfannee piped up. ‘I should’ve bought another punnet from the tuck shop!’

Galinda froze, about to bite into another one, and her eyes flitted to him in surprise. ‘Oh! Sorry. I just - I thought you brought them to share. I didn’t realise - you should’ve said -’ she went to put the strawberry back, but Pfannee waved his hands in the air quickly. 

‘No, no! Don’t be silly. That’s not what I meant,’ he said. ‘Have as many as you like. Though Milla -’ he poked her on the knee, rolling his eyes, ‘ - you could calm down on those crackers. It’s like sitting next to a donkey with you munching away like that. Save some for me, won’t you?’

‘Well excuse me for having a healthy appetite,’ she said, thrusting her nose in the air. 

‘Leave her alone, Pfan,’ said Shenshen. And, as if to make a point, she stretched across Galinda and grabbed a fistful of the crackers, practically slamming them into her mouth. ‘ Mmmh! These are delicious! ’

Catching on, Milla grinned and followed suit, cramming a huge handful of crackers into her mouth, too. ‘ Mmmhmm! The best! ’ She sprayed crumbs when she spoke. ‘ You’re totally missing out, Pfannee. ’

‘Hey!’ he squawked, trying to reach over and snatch the bowl away from Milla, but she was too quick. ‘Oh, come on - this isn’t fair ! I’m the one who bought all of these in the first place!’

‘You snooze, you lose,’ Shenshen shrugged, dusting her hands free of cracker crumbs and returning to her book. ‘And anyway, if memory serves, it was actually your turn to buy them.’

‘That doesn’t mean I can’t have any, though!’

‘If you stopped yapping and started snacking, you wouldn’t be having this problem,’ said Milla, cradling the bowl to her chest as if it was her firstborn.

‘The problem is that you’re hogging them!’

‘I’m not hogging the fruit.’

‘But fruit is boring.’

Galinda rolled her eyes affectionately as Pfannee and Milla continued to bicker, and swallowed down the strawberry she’d been carefully chewing. When she was younger and bored during mealtimes at school - namely because, as she had already ruminated, nobody sat with her for the first year of her being there - she would count the number of chews before she swallowed. For a while, she would have to chew everything at least twenty times, otherwise something terrible would happen. That often resulted in her being the last one in the mess hall, to the point when she became quite friendly with one of the kindly, round-faced dinnerladies, Agneta. She would clean up around Galinda and her little table, sweeping up crusts and mopping up spills, making easy conversation. She would sometimes slip her hardboiled sweets, and when she laughed at Galinda’s clumsy jokes, it sounded like water bubbling on an open fire. 

A couple of years later, when students would quite literally fight over who got to sit at her table, Galinda would loudly comment on how unfortunate Agneta’s hairstyle was, and whether she realised that her eyebrows would look so much better if only she learnt to pluck them. The students would laugh, and Galinda basked in it, though she’d be lying if she said she didn’t miss the taste of the boiled sweets and the gentle bubble of Agneta’s cheerful chuckle. 

By the time she left for Shiz, Agneta would not look her in the eye.

Distractedly, Galinda reached for another strawberry. She wasn’t entirely sure why she was eating them - they’d not long had breakfast - but something about the repetitive motion and the soft red flesh was soothing her. The burst of slightly sour flavour, the texture on her tongue, the juice that caught on her lips - it was all a welcome diversion from her winding and increasingly confusing feelings about Elphaba Thropp . 

Objectively speaking, Galinda knew that she and Elphaba wouldn’t get on from the moment they met. Elphaba was prickly, sarcastic, and oozed a confidence that Galinda guessed had almost been forced upon her - after all, being so different meant Elphaba didn’t have much of a choice but to own it. Galinda, meanwhile, was hyper-aware of everything that she did. Every movement was considered, every gesture rehearsed, every sentence prepared. Sometimes, she felt like she fit to burst from all the performative measures she had bubbling under the surface. Of course, to the onlooker, it appeared effortless. But Galinda Upland was not a natural. 

In any case, Elphaba’s attitude became clear from the moment she decided to correct Galinda’s grammar - in front of everyone, the stupid old sprout! - and then, perhaps without meaning to, she had the audacity to steal Galinda’s spot in Madame Morrible’s seminar. As if to rub salt into the wound, she was then shoved into Galinda’s suite without a second thought - or a single word of protest. It clearly didn’t matter to Elphaba or Morrible that Galinda had specified her own private space, that she needed somewhere to come down from the aggravating performance of her day-to-day life, that she needed a place to retreat if she ever got overwhelmed like the previous night. She didn’t want to have a meltdown in front of Elphaba. But it was all her fault in the first place, come to think of it , Galinda pouted to herself. If she had some semblance of control, I wouldn’t have - she gritted her teeth together, not wanting to dwell on it. She was bothered by what happened, of course, but worse still, Elphaba had been so lovely about it. If anything, Galinda would’ve preferred her to adopt her mother’s attitude - that being a swift, stinging slap across the face to ‘snap her out of it’, followed by a blunt dismissal to her bedroom when Galinda failed to calm down. But Elphaba had stayed. Elphaba had helped her breathe through it. And Elphaba had managed to coax a confession from her without even trying. Curse that girl! She has no right to be kind to me!

‘Oz, what did that strawberry ever do to you?’ Pfannee snorted.

Galinda snapped out of her thoughts and blinked at him, confused. ‘Huh?’

‘You’re crushing it like it personally offended you, Galinda,’ he said with a smirk, pointing at her closed fist. 

Galinda looked down in surprise and found that yes, she was indeed crushing the strawberry in her hand. She hadn’t even realised. She let out a squeak, fumbling for a hankie - which only made her think about how Elphaba had given her one in the bathroom - and she quickly realised that she was far too late. Juice had run down between her knuckles and dripped all over the soft, grey marl of her skirt. Shit.

‘Here,’ Shenshen said, offering her a tissue, and Galinda took it gratefully, dumping the ruined strawberry pulp and wrapped it up. Her hands were sticky and her skirt was stained. No, no, no . She wrung her palms together, wincing at the feeling of the cloggy residue smeared on her fingers, and stared down at the mess she’d made. 

‘What’s the matter?’ Shenshen frowned, watching as Galinda’s whole body seemed to seize up. 

‘Did you see a bug?’ Milla gasped, before immediately rounding on Pfannee. ‘I told you that we should’ve washed them first! Everyone knows that fresh fruit is a breeding ground for - ugh - disgusting little critters! I once nearly ate a caterpillar that was hiding in a punnet of blueberries, you know!’

‘Ah, extra protein,’ Pfannee grinned. ‘Aren’t you lucky?’

‘I didn’t actually eat it, I said I nearly did!’

Galinda stood abruptly, feeling her knees trembling. ‘I - I need to go and wash my hands. A-And change.’

‘Change?’ said Shenshen, raising an eyebrow. ‘Galinda, we’ve got Mathematics in like ten minutes. There’s no way you’ll have enough time to go back to your suite.’

Galinda’s hands were shaking. ‘N-No, it’s alright. I’ll be quick. I can’t wander around with a stain on my skirt.’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ Pfannee said airily. ‘It’s only a bit of strawberry juice. Not like it’s a major issue.’

‘And knowing you, you’d somehow make it work,’ Milla sighed, an undertone of jealousy in her tone. ‘I mean, if you go around with that on your skirt, I bet that everyone will be doing the same Oz-damned thing by the end of the day!’

Their laughter was grating to Galinda at that present moment. They didn’t understand . They didn’t understand that she couldn’t make stains work, no matter who she was. They didn’t understand that she couldn’t be caught in such a disgusting, dishevelled state, because what if someone saw her? What if someone told ? What if word somehow got back home to Frottica, to her mother’s critical ears, triggering a barrage of verbal lashings that Galinda couldn’t endure, not now, not when she had worked so hard to be presentable and make certain she would never embarrass her parents, even if she wasn’t a natural, even if she -

‘ - I won’t be long,’ she said, hating how much her voice wavered. ‘If I’m late, just - just say I broke a heel, or something.’

Shenshen expelled a low whistle. ‘Suit yourself, I guess, but Professor Treadgold isn’t exactly known for her forgiving nature. And you - well, you’re not exactly her favourite student, are you?’

Milla and Pfannee giggled at that, and Galinda’s cheeks burned . She had rather hoped her penchant for failing miserably in class would somehow be disguised if she pretended she didn’t care, but Treadgold had a nasty habit of picking on her when she thought she wasn’t paying attention. Such incidents often led to Galinda fumbling through an answer she knew was wrong, eyes silently begging Treadgold to take pity on her and simply give her the answer, until she was left red-faced and squirming in her seat. Then Elphaba, of course, would stick her hand in the air and show off how smart she was. 

‘Then she won’t care if I’m late, will she?’ Galinda said, through gritted teeth. ‘I’ll see you in class.’

Trying her best not to look like a newborn foal, Galinda wobbled her way to the exit. She weighed up her options as she did so, feeling eyes watching her from all sides, and decided she would do her best to get the worst of the stains out before venturing further across campus to the suite. The less people see me, the better , she thought, chewing her lower lip. The caveat with being exceptionally popular - made even more impressive by the fact she’d only been on campus for a week - was that people often watched when she entered the room. So, when she stumbled out of the sun room and into the corridor, idle heads snapped her way, smiling and waving as they always did as if they knew her, and Galinda smiled back. She prayed eyes would stray downwards to her skirt.

The bathroom was, mercifully, pretty empty. A couple of the stalls were occupied, but Galinda went straight to one of the sinks on the far side of the room, hoping she wouldn’t be noticed, and sweating hands met the porcelain with a dull slap . Breathing steadily through her nose, Galinda gripped at the sides of the sink. She glanced at her reflection and recoiled at the tight, pale face that stared back, and started to run the tap. Grabbing a wad of paper towels, she wetted them with the cool water, and started to try and amend the damage.

The students in the stalls did their business and left without too much bother, and as they did, Galinda scrubbed at her skirt. She pressed and rubbed and muttered furiously under her breath, but the stains didn’t lift , no matter how much she scoured, and little clumps from the rapidly disintegrating paper towels started to attach themselves to the fibres of her skirt. Her breath quickening, Galinda gave up on the towels and settled for cupping the water and sloshing it over the stains instead. It didn’t help.

‘No, no, no ,’ she whispered, bundling the skirt further up her thighs - praying no one walked in - and massaged the folds of the skirt together, hoping the friction of the fabric would do a better job than the paper towels. All that achieved was making the stain larger , if a little lighter in colour, but she couldn’t tell either way because the water was darkening the fabric in a rather alarming fashion. This isn’t working. This isn’t working and everyone will see and I’ve managed to ruin something I like because I’m so clumsy and useless and stupid and -

She sucked in a breath, her neck growing hot.

‘Calm down,’ she murmured to herself. ‘Calm down, calm down.’

She could still fix it. She would wait until the wet stain on her skirt had dried out a little, scurry back to her suite - taking the long way around to limit the chances of her being spotted - change into something else, and race to her Mathematics seminar. It didn’t matter if she was late. She would rather that than showing up looking like such a mess. 

Steadily, Galinda made a conscious effort to lower her shoulders, uncurl her tightened fists around her skirt, and let out a long, measured breath. It’s okay. It’s going to be fine. Glancing down at her feet, she realised she’d managed to soak the floor with spilled water, and as she was bending down to clean it up with some more paper towels, her eyes connected with a pair of clunky, hideous black shoes. 

Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me! Not now! Why does the universe hate me so?!

‘...Um, Galinda?’ said Elphaba uncertainly. ‘What in Oz are you doing?’

Galinda shot up from her crouching position so quickly that she nearly whacked her head on underside of the sink. ‘E-Elphaba! What - why are you here?!’

‘Because I have normal bodily functions and need to use the bathroom?’ she said weakly, pointing vaguely to one of the empty stalls. Her eyes slowly took in what she saw - that being the sopping skirt and equally sopping floor beneath Galinda’s feet, and she made a very peculiar face. ‘Er - what -’ she cleared her throat, averting her eyes, ‘ - speaking of bodily functions, what happened to you?’

It took a moment for Galinda to realise what Elphaba meant, given what it must’ve looked like, and she went a violent shade of pink. ‘I - no - I didn’t - it’s just water ! I got a stain on my skirt, and I was trying to get it out!’

Elphaba’s shoulder visibly sagged in relief. ‘Well, that’s good. It looks…’ she gestured to the large wet spot on Galinda’s skirt, ‘...you know. Kind of incriminating.’

‘Elphaba, just who exactly do you think I am ?’ Galinda snapped, stamping her foot in the puddle of water. ‘I’m not five !’ 

‘Really?’ Elphaba blinked. ‘Could’ve fooled me, given your behaviour at breakfast this morning. I rather hoped we were over firing cheap shots.’

‘Whatever gave you that idea?’ Galinda muttered, bending down to resume mopping up the water. While she might’ve been raised in a fully-staffed estate, she was taught at a young age to ensure she kept a tidy space. When she asked her mother about it, she was told that leaving any mess for the staff to see gave a terrible impression. People talk, Galinda . You must never give them any ammunition. Privately, Galinda couldn’t see how leaving her teddy - a little pink penguin called Salmon, named for the colour - in the grand hallway constituted as ammunition, but she wasn’t really in a position to argue.

‘Well,’ said Elphaba, an edge to her tone, ‘I’d hoped that you might’ve finally formed a higher opinion of me, given you quite literally cried on me yesterday evening.’

Galinda paused in her mopping only to look up and glare at her. ‘That, if I might remind you, was all your fault in the first place.’

‘And I said I was sorry about a hundred times.’

‘Say it a hundred more, and I might refrain from commenting on your grotesque behavior.’

Elphaba threw her hands in the air in exasperation. ‘You know what? Fine. Fine. More fool me for thinking we might’ve reached a sense of empathy for each other, but I doubt you’re capable of such a thing.’ With that, she marched into a stall and slammed the door so hard that Galinda flinched. She let out a slow breath, resuming her task until the majority of the water had been cleaned from the floor. She hated to think of all the germs she’s managed to pick up, and was in the process of thoroughly washing her hands when Elphaba emerged a few minutes later. They didn’t look at each other as she stood at a nearby sink, washing her hands, too. Galinda caught her eye in the mirror by mistake, and hastily looked away. 

Oz, she thought to herself, drying her hands, why do I keep running into her in bathrooms? This is exactly why I don’t like using the public ones! Letting out another shaky breath, Galinda assessed the damage of her skirt, and she uttered a profanity so inappropriate, that Elphaba quite literally gasped. 

‘What could possibly inspire that sort of colourful language?’ she spluttered, drying off her hands. She didn’t seem particularly happy about engaging in conversation with Galinda again, but her curiosity clearly got the better of her.

‘It’s -’ Galinda choked on a tight breath, her hands balling the soaked fabric, ‘ - my skirt, I’ve - I’ve just made it worse. The stain is still there and it’s not going to dry in time so I’m going to be late for Treadgold which will only make her hate me more and -’

‘ - Oz, slow down for a second,’ Elphaba said, edging closer. ‘I can’t even see a stain.’

‘It’s here!’ Galinda flapped. ‘Right here.’ She jabbed at the faded red marks from the strawberry juice, almost impossible to see through the now dark grey. Elphaba raised an eyebrow.

‘Uh-huh…’ she said. ‘So, you’re telling me that you decided to drench your skirt because of a few tiny marks that literally nobody would notice, even if you shoved your crotch in their face?’

‘You -’ Galinda gasped, her hands squeezing the fabric tighter, ‘ - you’re so crude!’

‘I didn’t mean it like that, Galinda,’ Elphaba mumbled, her face darkening a little. ‘I meant that it’s a bit of an overreaction, isn’t it? Nobody would’ve spotted a little stain, but this ?’ She gestured at her haphazardly. ‘You can’t go wandering around campus without raising a few eyebrows.’

‘Oz, what was I supposed to do, then?’ Galinda hissed, feeling her chest start to tighten. 

‘I don’t know,’ said Elphaba, in a voice laced with sarcasm. ‘Maybe try not to throw a tantrum and hope the stains come out in the wash like a normal person?’

Galinda’s breath hitched. ‘I - that’s not - you don’t understand!’

‘Understand what?’

‘That I can’t be seen in such a mess !’

‘I hate to break it to you, but I think that ship has sailed,’ Elphaba smirked. She turned to leave - she also had Mathematics, and didn’t want to be late - when she heard a tiny, defeated whimper force its way from Galinda’s trembling lips.

For her part, Galinda was fighting with herself to calm down. But she could feel the dampness of her skirt against her palms, could see how much of a mess she looked, how much worse she had made things because she couldn’t leave it alone, couldn’t allow anyone to see that she’d slipped up, couldn’t stand an imperfection even on her clothes. She bit her lip, trying to stop her chin wobbling, but tears were already burning in the backs of her eyes, and her skirt was still ruined and she was still going to be late and Elphaba was still there .

Sniffing sharply, Galinda turned to the side, hiding her face from Elphaba and the mirror. She struggled through a breath. Calm down, calm down, calm down.

‘...Galinda?’ came Elphaba’s voice. She spoke softly, like she had the previous evening, careful and gentle and cautious. 

‘Oh, what is it?’ Galinda snapped, her own voice splintering at the edges. 

‘Um, I can help. With the skirt.’

Galinda blinked up at her, eyes full of unshed tears, and watched as she tugged off her jumper. It was grey and black - and perfectly shapeless! - and underneath, Elphaba was wearing a crisp, white-collared shirt. Galinda’s gaze swept over her for a moment, rather thinking the shirt was entirely too tight and showed off far too much of her toned arms and broad, strong-looking shoulders - oh, stop it! Stop it right this second! 

‘Tie this around the front of your skirt,’ Elphaba continued, holding it out to her. ‘It’ll cover the water stain and the marks you were trying to get rid of.’

Galinda looked at the jumper as if Elphaba had just offered her a severed head. ‘I - are you insane ? I can’t be seen wearing something like that ! It looks like someone quite literally died in it!’

Elphaba’s expression went totally deadpan. ‘Well, if you want to wander around campus looking like that, then be my guest. Or you can hide in here until your skirt dries off and miss Treadgold’s class. Which would you prefer?’

Galinda mumbled something under her breath, shifting on the spot and shirking Elphaba’s stern gaze.

‘What was that?’ said Elphaba.

‘Neither, okay?’ Galinda snarled. 

‘Then take the damn jumper.’

With an irritated huff, Galinda snatched it from her. The jumper felt soft in her hands, warmed from Elphaba’s body, and as she shook it out, a pleasant, delicate waft of just-snuffed candles and something else, something sweet, doused her senses. She always smells nice. I wonder what she uses? It’s so comforting - wait! No! No, it’s not! Trying desperately to dismiss that dangerous train of thought, Galinda secured the body of the jumper over her skirt and struggled with the arms, trying to tie them around her waist.

‘Oz, come here,’ said Elphaba. She grabbed at the arms of the jumper and tugged Galinda towards her. Galinda let out a little squeak, feeling a sudden heat in her face as Elphaba’s arms looped around her waist, tying the sleeves together in a knot at the base of her spine. She suppressed a little shiver as Elphaba’s deft fingers ghosted over her waist as she withdrew, giving the jumper a gentle tug to make sure it wouldn’t slip.

‘There,’ she said, with a small nod. ‘That works fine. I actually think the black and grey matches your skirt, you know.’

Galinda, who was pink in the face, served her a withering look. ‘It most certainly does not . The grey is a totally different shade to my skirt - it’s a horrid cool grey as opposed to warm. Not to mention that I would never be seen sporting such shoddy knitwork.’

‘Fine. I’ll just have it back, then,’ Elphaba shrugged, reaching forward as if to grab at it, and Galinda yelped and stumbled backwards into the sink

‘No! No,’ she spluttered. ‘That won’t be necessary - wait, are you laughing at me?’ Galinda stared at Elphaba, who was chucking delightedly behind her hand, and let out an incredulous gasp. ‘You are ! You’re laughing at me!’

‘Sorry, it’s just -’ Elphaba cut herself off with a snort of laughter, ‘ - you’re just so easy to tease, Galinda. You should’ve seen your face.’

Galinda’s mouth fell open. Tease?! The audacity of this girl! ‘You - you’re so mean , Elphaba Thropp!’

‘I’m mean?’ Elphaba smirked. ‘You’re the one who just insulted one of my favourite jumpers after I kindly loaned it to you so people wouldn’t think that you -’

‘ - It’s one of your favourites?’ sneered Galinda, plucking at it. ‘Why? It might be the most hideous thing I’ve ever seen - apart from you, of course.’ She let out a tittering laugh at her own joke because no one was around to laugh for her. 

‘Good one, Galinda,’ said Elphaba, rolling her eyes. ‘And it’s my favourite because Dulcibear made it for me. She’s my nanny. She’s also a bear , and last time I checked, it’s quite difficult to knit if you have paws.’

Galinda cocked her head to one side in curiosity. ‘Why in Oz would she have to make you clothes? You're a governor’s daughter, aren’t you? I know enough about local politics to deduce that makes you rather well off.’

‘We are,’ said Elphaba. ‘People don’t always make clothes to save money, Galinda. It can be a heartfelt gesture.’

‘I know that,’ replied Galinda hotly, thinking of the multitude of clothes her granny had made her over the years. ‘I’m just not sure this can be construed as heartfelt, since it’s so ugly.’

‘Well I love it.’ Elphaba said it without an ounce of shame, and suddenly, Galinda felt as if she ought to be quite careful with the garment. 

‘Right,’ she mumbled. ‘Um, I’ll look after it, then.’

‘Yeah. Try not to stain it,’ Elphaba said with a grin. ‘What happened, anyway? Did you spill something?’

‘I was eating strawberries.’ Galinda deliberately left out the fact she’d squeezed one by accident because she was thinking about her confusing feelings towards Elphaba, and smoothed down the front of the jumper distractedly. It really is very soft. It must be lovely for hugs…Not that I’d ever want to hug her, of course! 

‘Ah. Well, I’ve heard that lemon juice is good at lifting stains, if it doesn’t come out in the wash. You could probably get some from the canteen.’

Galinda nodded. She knew all about the effectiveness of lemon juice on certain stains. One of her earliest memories was stumbling inside after playing in the gardens around the estate, giggling and flushed from the outside air, grass stains on the whites of her knee-high socks and the hem of her dress, mud on her shoes, twigs tangled in her hair. Her mother nearly had an aneurysm on seeing her. She had yanked off her shoes, socks and dress in the middle of the entrance hall, ignoring Galinda’s embarrassed protests, and dragged a comb so viciously through her hair that Galinda had cried. She was then instructed to scrub out the stains with lemon juice as a perverse teaching moment. Her palms stung from it. You need to learn to be more careful, Galinda , her mother had said, surveying her as she cleaned. Your father and I work hard to buy you lovely clothes, asking only that you look after them, and this is how you repay us? By running around like a feral guttersnipe and covering yourself in filth? When Galinda had tried to explain that she was just playing, all that earned was another round of raised voices and stinging remarks. Her mother hated stains. She hated anything less than unblemished perfection. And Galinda learnt very quickly that she was not to be challenged. 

‘I’ll see how it fares in the laundry,’ she said, swallowing thickly. 

‘You could get lucky. Some of that water might've helped,’ replied Elphaba. ‘Anyway, what was the big deal? I doubt anyone would’ve noticed.’

‘Try living with my mother, Elphaba, and you’ll realise it is a big deal,’ Galinda said lightly. It was supposed to come out as a joke, but her voice wavered slightly at the end. Elphaba didn’t miss it.

‘Is she a bit of a neat freak, then?’ she asked, raising her eyebrows. 

‘Er…’ Galinda chewed at her lip, trying not to think about the number of times her mother had yelled at her for spilling something down her front, ‘...I guess so. She just has high standards.’

‘That must be quite stressful.’

Galinda felt herself tense up. ‘No. It’s fine. It’s nothing.’

‘Really? You seemed pretty upset about it,’ Elphaba pressed, and Galinda’s hands clenched at her sides. 

‘Would you just drop it, Elphaba?’ she retorted sharply before she could help herself. ‘It’s not actually any of your business. It doesn’t matter .’

Elphaba held up her hands as if in defeat. ‘Oz, fine. Anyway, are you going back to change, or do you want to walk to class?’

‘With you ?’ Galinda scoffed. ‘No thank you. And I am most certainly going to change - I can’t sit in a wet skirt for an hour. Besides,’ - she picked at Elphaba’s jumper as if she’d been draped in slime - ‘I need to limit the number of people who might spot me in this .’

Elphaba let out a snort. ‘Oz, Galinda, you could stand to be a little more grateful.’

‘And you could stand to have a little more fashion sense, yet here we are.’

Elphaba looked as if she wanted to say something else, her nostrils flared in annoyance, before she turned on her heels and marched off. Galinda stared after her, feeling a tiny flare of guilt, and her palms smoothed over the jumper again. She didn’t have to lend this to me. She could’ve just walked away. Why didn’t she? Shaking her head, Galinda double checked that her skirt was totally covered, before she traced Elphaba’s footsteps and flounced out of the bathroom.

*

Elphaba liked Mathematics. It was cool, straightforward and logical. Nothing was left open for interpretation, and she could follow it along without much difficulty or concern for running into a wall. Galinda Upland, meanwhile, was not cool, straightforward, or logical. 

She had watched as the girl scurried into the seminar about 15-minutes late, red-faced as Treadgold reprimanded her, in a completely different outfit. I thought she just needed to change her skirt? Elphaba thought, rolling her eyes as Galinda quickly found a spare seat towards the back of the class. Instead, she was wearing a floaty, pink dress with ridiculously high heels and a lilac jacket that complimented her complexion rather nicely - huh? No it doesn’t. Not especially, anyway. Galinda looks good in anything - what? Elphaba gave herself a little shake, snapping her attention back to the blackboard. She needed to spend less time ruminating about her insufferable roommate and more time absorbing the complex equations Professor Treadgold was mapping out in chalk. 

Despite her best efforts, though, her wayward mind found itself circling back to Galinda, even as she jotted down Treadgold’s instructions and tried to follow along as best she could. Elphaba didn’t have much to offer the world, at least in her opinion, so her academic prowess had to make up for it. That meant she couldn’t waste precious seminar hours thinking about Galinda, about her panic and her tears and her somewhat concerning obsession with how she looked. 

Elphaba knew after the first day of sharing a room just how precious Galinda was about her appearance. She was rudely woken up at half past five every morning from Galinda’s shower singing, and had to bury her head under the pillows through the hairdrying, wardrobe-slamming, perfume-spritzing cacophony that stormed after Galinda as she cycled through her endless morning routine. Of course, it paid off - Galinda looked flawless without fail. Elphaba thought that she must be tired, rising as early as she did, but the blonde always had an irritating spring in her heeled step as she wafted around campus. 

Publicly, Elphaba assumed Galinda tried so hard to look good for vanity’s sake and often told her so. Privately, she thought there was little need for Galinda to do so much. She already had a natural beauty, one Elphaba occasionally saw if she opened her eyes long enough to watch her skip from her bed to the bathroom and vice versa. Now, though, Elphaba had a sneaking suspicion that Galinda’s desperate strive for perfection was less to do with vanity or her own sense of self, but because it was, quite simply, expected of her. 

And Elphaba wasn’t really sure what to make of that. 

Having been born green, Elphaba never even had the choice of perfection. No one expected her to look her best, because - at least in their eyes - such a thing wasn’t possible. No one cared what she wore or how she did her hair. No one looked at her as an object of beauty, or even desire. So, while she couldn’t really feel empathetic towards Galinda, it certainly didn’t mean she wasn’t sympathetic towards her plight. She looked so worried in the bathroom, almost as if she was about to cry - just because of some faded stains. And how exhausting it must be, to rise so early and go through so many steps before she even wants to leave the suite. 

Letting out a quiet sigh, Elphaba’s eyes wandered and landed on the girl in question. Since she had shown up late, she wasn’t flanked by the usual suspects, and was sitting rather gingerly next to the ever-attentive Boq Woodsman, who hadn’t taken his gaze off her since she came into the room. Galinda didn’t seem particularly thrilled about that - she was quite literally at risk of slipping off her chair in her efforts to sit as far away from him as possible - and she was chewing the end of her pen instead of taking notes. Typical Galinda - she spends hours getting people to look at her, and then hates it when they do . Elphaba frowned to herself, then, realising that was quite the unfair thing to think. 

*

Later on, Elphaba went back to the suite for some peace and quiet. Galinda’s campaign of taunt Elphaba Thropp on sight had become rather draining, and she often found herself needing some time away from prying eyes just to recover from it all.

On entering, it was mercifully empty. Galinda probably has bigger fish to fry between classes than waste her time here , Elphaba thought to herself, kicking off her shoes and dumping her bag on the bed. She sat down at her desk with a long, tired sigh. 

Galinda’s side of the suite wasn’t as tidy as usual. Clothes were strewn over her bed and the floor, along with numerous pairs of heels and stockings. She had clearly been tearing through various outfits to find something else to wear. The offending grey skirt was abandoned by the foot of her bed, along with the shirt she’d been wearing with it. Elphaba couldn’t really kick up a fuss about the mess, though, since Galinda was generally a very tidy roommate. Thank Oz. I think it would push me over the edge, otherwise. 

Elphaba then spotted her own jumper. She frowned, craning her neck, and then stood to investigate. To her surprise, it was folded neatly on top of her stack of pink pillows. Elphaba sucked in a small breath. Amongst the frantic chaos and rush to get to class, Galinda had taken the time to make sure the jumper was gathered up smartly and meticulously. Elphaba couldn’t help but feel touched by the gesture. She decided to leave it as it was and wait for Galinda to return it to her, lest she be accused of messing with her things, and went back to her desk to do some much-needed studying. She hadn’t got anything done last night, given the glass incident, and wanted to catch up.

She only managed about ten minutes before the door burst open, and in swanned Galinda and Pfannee. Shenshen, unusually, wasn’t with them, but Elphaba counted herself lucky - two of them were better than three - but she still shrunk a little in her seat, wishing she opted for the balcony instead.

‘Oh, great,’ Pfannee said, recoiling in disgust. ‘What are you doing here, Elphaba?’

‘I live here,’ she muttered, not looking up from her desk. 

‘Well could you go somewhere else? You’re a horrible distraction when we’re trying to study, you know,’ said Pfannee, as he threw his bag on Galinda’s bed. 

‘Study? You ?’ Elphaba sneered. ‘I’m not convinced I’ve seen either of you progress beyond chapter one in any of the books you own.’

‘Spying on us, are we?’ Pfannee said. ‘You ought to get another hobby.’ He went to hurl himself across Galinda’s bed as he often did - something Elphaba was certain the girl didn’t like, because she always seemed to flinch when he did so - but caught himself at the last moment. 

‘Oz, Galinda,’ he said, nearly toppling over, ‘what’s with all the clothes? You having a sort out?’

‘Something like that,’ Galinda gulped, scurrying over to try and make some space for him. The tips of her ears flushed pink, and Elphaba assumed she was feeling embarrassed - she’d noticed that Galinda was very quick to blush if she was feeling flustered. Which is sort of cute, to be honest - what? No, it isn’t. She watched from her desk as Galinda surreptitiously kicked the ruined skirt under her bed as she shoved aside several dresses for Pfannee to sit. He did so with a languid sigh, stretching out like a cat.

‘Where should we start?’ Galinda asked, perching next to him and rummaging in her bag for her books. Elphaba was surprised - usually, Galinda and her friends came back to the suite under the guise of studying, but would then proceed to gossip about everything and nothing instead. It was rather grating to listen to, especially since their conversations were so vapid. She couldn’t see how Galinda could stand it. 

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Pfannee groaned. ‘Every class seems perfectly tortuous if you ask me. I only enrolled here because my Papa attended, but I misread the smallprint.’

‘You’re trying to say you came to a university and didn’t think you’d have to study?’ Galinda giggled, putting her Mathematics textbook on her lap.

‘I didn’t think I’d have to study so hard ,’ said Pfannee, flourishing a floppy hand across his forehead. ‘Academic success is only for those who actually need it. You and I can coast along just fine with our names alone.’

‘Hm,’ Galinda shrugged noncommittally, and Elphaba was certain she was thinking about her aspirations to study under Madame Morrible. Galinda was the ambitious type, even if she didn’t show it. 

‘I mean,’ Pfannee continued obliviously, ‘why do you think Shenshen works harder than we do? She’s not like us and Milla. She doesn’t have a family name to fall back on if she needs it. She’s got to make the most of her time here.’ He let out a short laugh. ‘Which is probably why she’s holed up in the library.’

‘Shenshen comes from a rich family, Pfannee,’ said Galinda, a little stiffly. ‘She works hard because she wants to. And anyway, familial roots only get you so far. It’s…important to have a backup plan.’ Elphaba eyed her as she glanced down at the book in her lap, hands smoothing over the pages. 

Pfannee shook his head with a snort. ‘You don’t need to worry about any of that nonsense. We both know you’ll be married and settled the second we graduate.’

Galinda stiffened, her shoulders tensing. Elphaba watched as her toes, freed from the precarious heels she’d been wearing, curled up as if in displeasure. But Galinda didn’t say anything to refute Pfannee’s statement, and instead flipped to the index of the textbook.

‘Professor Treadgold told us to brush up on the binomial series, didn’t she?’ she said, a perfectly manicured finger running down the list. ‘I bet she’ll be testing us soon enough. I spoke to a second year the other day, and he said that Treadgold always springs surprise quizzes on first years to make sure that we -’

‘ - Oz, what is that ?’ Pfanne exclaimed, cutting across her entirely. Galinda, frustrated, slammed the book closed.

‘Pfannee,’ she said, her eyebrow twitching, ‘I really want to try and get some work done before dinner, so if you could just - wait, don’t touch that!’

Elphaba realised what was about to happen before Galinda did, and she opened her mouth to protest. Pfannee had spotted her jumper on Galinda’s pillows and leapt up, unfurling it and holding it against his body in disgust.

‘What is the reason for this ?’ he spluttered through a snort of laughter. ‘This might be the ugliest thing you own, Galinda.’

‘It’s not -’ Galinda cut herself off, and Elphaba figured out why; trying to explain why she had Elphaba’s jumper on her bed would be more of a social suicide for her than allowing Pfannee to think the garment belong to her.

‘I mean, the style aside, it’s not exactly your colour, is it?’ he continued. ‘I assume we can put this in the reject pile, no?’ Elphaba’s heart rate spiked as he bundled it into a ball, and she was just about to say something when Galinda got to her feet.

‘Give it back,’ she said quietly. 

‘Um, what?’ Pfannee spluttered. ‘Galinda, I’m trying to do you a favour, here. You really ought to get rid -’

‘ - I told you to give it back ,’ she interrupted, a bite to her tone. She lunged forward and took it from him before he could protest. She immediately shook it out again and started to fold it, before she held it against her chest in an almost protective fashion.

‘Oz, keep your hair on,’ Pfannee said, rolling his eyes. ‘If you want to keep such a horrendous looking thing, I won’t stop you.’ His eyes adopted a conspiratorial twinkle. ‘...But don’t be surprised if it goes missing one day and ends up in the fireplace.’

Galinda’s eyes tripled in size. ‘No, you - you can’t do that! Please don’t do that.’

‘Galinda, I’m kidding, I’m kidding,’ Pfannee said, looking at her oddly. ‘Keep the gross jumper. Just don’t go wearing it in public if you want to maintain any semblance of your reputation.’ With that, he flopped down on her bed again and started babbling about whether Crope and Tibbett, two boys in the year above them with an infamous reputation for getting caught in compromising positions, were actually locking lips in the kitchen larder or simply sampling a more luxurious selection of biscuits reserved for the formal dinners. 

Galinda let out a breath, carefully tucking Elphaba’s jumper under her pillows. She glanced up, and Elphaba caught her eye. A beat passed. Elphaba felt heat in her face. She wanted to say something, but she couldn’t with Pfannee in the room. Instead, she settled for the safe option.’

‘ Thank you ,’ she mouthed, nodding at her.

Galinda’s ears went pink. ‘... You’re welcome .’

Chapter Text

Chapter Three: Thunder

A few days after Elphaba had gotten Galinda out of a tight spot and lent her the jumper, the garment in question was returned, neatly folded and smelling faintly of whichever expensive laundry detergent Galinda used. To her utter confusion, Elphaba found herself not wanting to wear it - even though it was her favourite - for fear that the pleasant scent might fade. Well, I’m certainly not going to unpack whatever that means , she had thought to herself, carefully putting the jumper in her chest of drawers (something she quite literally had to fight Galinda over for ownership of, since she didn’t have anywhere else to put her clothes). 

Galinda seemed a little different post-jumper, as Elphaba had started privately referring to it as. She was still irritating and loud and flounced around like she owned every inch of campus, but in terms of her daily harassment, she had calmed down somewhat. Instead of insults on sight, she would only make one or two comments a day on Elphaba’s appearance, demeanor, or general presence. It stung either way, but Elphaba was trying to take the small wins when they came her way - one of which was her continued improvement in Madame Morrible’s classes. Her spellcraft was coming along nicely, and Morrible had even given her some advanced textbooks to look over as they progressed to the next level.

Sharing a space with Galinda, however, continued to be an uphill struggle.

‘Elphaba ,’ Galinda screeched from the bathroom, two days after she’d returned the jumper. ‘ If you don’t come here in the next five seconds, I am literally going to scream. ’

‘More than you are already?’ Elphaba said wearily. She wasn’t sure if Galinda heard her through the closed door, but nonetheless, she got up from her desk and went into the bathroom. ‘Oz, what’s the matter now?’ She stopped in her tracks when she caught sight of Galinda. 

The girl was standing wrapped in a fluffy pink towel, looking extremely irritated, her wet hair falling across her bare shoulders. Elphaba stared at her, caught completely off guard. She had clearly jumped straight out of the bath. Gulping, Elphaba watched as a droplet of water beaded at the tip of a single strand of hair, before dripping off and trickling down to the hollow of her neck. She’d never seen Galinda in just a towel. She seemed to make a point of wearing her bathrobe, hair always wrapped up in a smaller, matching towel before it went through its scrupulous routine.

‘What, precisely, is this?’

Elphaba took a moment to realise what Galinda was gesturing at. She followed the pointing finger to a lone sock scrunched on the floor. 

‘...Er, you’re joking, right?’ Elphaba said, averting her eyes from the delicate curve where Galinda’s neck met her shoulders. 

‘No, I am not joking!’ Galinda squawked. ‘How can I enjoy my lovely bubble bath if I’m forced to inhabit such an untidy space? I mean, what sort of person leaves a sock lying around?!’

‘Someone who was evidently in a rush and missed the laundry basket,’ Elphaba muttered, folding her arms. 

‘Well pick it up, then!’

‘If it’s such a big deal,’ grumbled Elphaba, ‘why didn’t you notice it until after you got in the bath?’

‘Because I had already taken my contacts out! I thought it was some sort of horrendous insect plotting to gnaw my face off when I was finally relaxing!’

Elphaba blinked at her. ‘I don’t know what sort of insects you get in Frottica, but none that I know of are the size of a perfectly average sock, nor do they tend to chew at people’s faces. Besides, since when did you wear contact lenses?’

‘Perfectly average, she says, as she stomps around in her gigantic clodhoppers,’ Galinda muttered, as if Elphaba wasn’t in ear shot. ‘And I’ve worn contacts since I was certified blind as a bat when I was a child, if you must know.’ She pointed to the little shelf below the mirror, where there sat a small, circular tub that Elphaba had always assumed was just another step of Galinda’s endless skincare routine. 

‘Why not just wear glasses? They’re much less fuss,’ Elphaba said, adjusting her own pair for good measure.

‘Because they just about tripled the size of my eyes and made my face look peculiar,’ Galinda declared. ‘Momsie would never allow it. And anyway, that isn’t the point of this conversation! Pick up your horrid old sock before my bath gets cold!’

Elphaba relented, not wanting another argument, and dumped the sock in her specified laundry basket with no small amount of frustrated flair. ‘There you go, your highness. I hope the bathroom reaches your lofty standards.’

‘Lofty ?’ Galinda spluttered, adjusting her towel and turning pink. ‘I’m not lofty, Elphaba, I would just rather not live in disorganised carnage.’

‘I hardly see how one sock can be construed as carnage.’

‘Well, it wouldn’t normally,’ Galinda smirked. ‘But since it’s yours , I’ve no doubt it is positively ablaze with a foul aroma - Oz, or even disease! One can never be too careful.’

That stung quite a lot. Elphaba opened her mouth as if to say something, but found she could not, and decided to leave Galinda to stew in the bath. Pressing her lips together, she took the time to slam the bathroom door as loudly as she possibly could, ignoring the tiny, surprised yelp expelled from her irksome roommate, and returned to her desk. 

Elphaba was fairly certain she’d never smelled unpleasant in her life, even during the egregious age that was puberty, but for one reason or another, the Munchkin children liked to tease her about it. It only took her a moment to remember their cruel taunts, and she sucked in a breath. No, don’t think about all of that. There’s no point. Sniffing sharply to herself, Elphaba lazily flipped open her Sorcery book. She noticed something that made her eyebrow twitch. 

‘Galinda!’ she snapped, shooting to her feet and marching back towards the bathroom door. 

‘Oh, what is it now ?’ came her high-pitched voice, as if she wasn’t the one who had disturbed Elphaba in the first place. ‘Did you find your other rancid sock ?’

Stuff this , Elphaba thought to herself. Without really thinking too much about what she was doing, she shoved her way into the bathroom. Galinda let out a shriek so ear-splitting that it was a wonder the windows didn’t shatter. There was a series of splashes as Galinda scrambled up the bubbles to her chest, before slipping herself beneath the water so hastily that Elphaba rather thought she looked like some sort of blonde eel. 

‘Elphaba Thropp! ’ she caterwauled, her head poking just above the water. ‘What - what in Oz do you think you’re doing ?! Get out !’

‘I’m not looking at you, for goodness sake,’ Elphaba grumbled, making a show of planting a hand over her eyes. ‘I thought I told you to stop messing with my Sorcery books. Madame Morrible gave them to me especially and I’m sick of you rifling through them.’

Galinda, if Elphaba could see her, went pink. ‘I - I’ve not - I’ve done nothing of the sort!’

‘Right,’ Elphaba muttered. ‘Then why are some of the pages folded over in the corners? I would never dog-ear any of my books, least of all ones belonging to someone else.’

‘And what makes you think I had anything to do with that?’ Galinda huffed. ‘You said it yourself - those books were given to you by Morrible. She could very easily be the culprit.’

‘Because I severely doubt that Madame Morrible is the type to underline in pink ink . I’m not stupid, Galinda. Just admit to scribbling in and dog-earing my books and I’ll leave you and your stupid bubble bath in peace.’

‘What’s the point in admitting anything if you already think I’m guilty?’ Galinda muttered. 

‘It’s the principle of the matter. I don’t mess with your stuff, so you can’t mess with mine. It’s an invasion of privacy.’

‘Invasion of privacy?!’ Galinda screeched, and Elphaba heard another indignant splash. ‘ You’re the one who has let herself into the bathroom while I’m trying to bathe!’

‘Stop. Touching. My. Stuff.’ Elphaba spat every word with a hiss, a hand still over her eyes so as not to prove Galinda’s point. 

‘Then stop leaving your stuff lying around - like that infernal sock!’

‘So you do admit to it, then?’

‘Oz -’ Galinda cut herself off with a frustrated snarl. Elphaba could just picture the look on her face, and smirked behind her hand. ‘Right. Fine. Fine. I may or may not have had a little look through one of your Sorcery books, but that’s all your fault for - for taunting me with them.’

‘Huh? In what way is using my desk to keep my books taunting you?’

‘Why do you think?’ Galinda whinged. ‘You know full well that I want to learn under Madame Morrible, but then you came along and stole my spot in her seminars.’

‘Funny. That makes it sound like you actually had a spot in the first place.’

‘I - I would have!’ spluttered Galinda. ‘If I’d have been given the opportunity to prove myself, I’d be the one with all those Sorcery books, not you. So what if I had a little peruse? The least you could do is let me, since it’s all your fault that Morrible turned her nose up at me.’

Elphaba’s mouth fell open in outrage. ‘How in Oz is it my fault? If memory serves, she rejected you even before she knew what I could do!’

‘That isn’t true.’

‘No? Didn’t you submit a whole essay to her over the summer before you even got here?’ Elphaba said impatiently. ‘And after all that, she still didn’t pick you. That has nothing to do with me, but all to do with your talent - or lack thereof.’

The bathroom was quiet for an uncomfortably long pause. Elphaba could hear the gentle tinkling of the bubbles as they popped in the bathtub. She wondered if Galinda might’ve stuck her head under the water to avoid the conversation, but there was no noise to indicate that. She shifted on the spot, almost tempted to peak, but knowing that Galinda would probably have a stroke and drown if she did so. 

‘...Anyway, just stop going through my books,’ mumbled Elphaba. ‘Or if you’re that desperate to read them, then for goodness sake, ask.’

‘What’s the point?’ came Galinda’s voice, much smaller than it had been a few minutes ago. ‘Not like I can do anything when no one wants to teach me.’

Elphaba wasn’t exactly sure what inspired her next words, but looking back, she decided the steam from the hot bath probably got to her. ‘Well, I could always teach you, if you want. It would help me to go over Morrible’s teachings, and -’

When she was cut off by a bout of sputtering laughter, Elphaba really wondered why she bothered being nice to Galinda at all.

‘You , teach me?’ Galinda laughed, throwing her head back so it dipped into the water. ‘The nerve! What makes you think I’d want that, anyway? I’ve seen how dreadful your command of magic is - or have you forgotten when you broke the balcony window and smashed up my serums and creams?’

Elphaba’s eye twitched behind her hand. ‘I’ve actually been working very hard on controlling that, if you must know. And I’ve been improving. Madame Morrible is impressed with my progress.’

‘Well, whoop-de-doo for you.’

‘It’s more like whoop-de-doo for you, I think you’ll find,’ replied Elphaba, annoyed. 

‘What have I got to do with it?’ Galinda shot back.

‘Oz, because I don’t want to lose control and freak you out again when we argue!’ Elphaba snapped. ‘Which, clearly , will continue for as long as we’re forced to spend time together. And if it does, then I’d rather not trigger another panic attack if I end up breaking glass, or something.’

‘A what?’ 

‘Are you being deliberately obtuse?’ Elphaba said. ‘That panic attack, Galinda. Remember? When you literally couldn’t breathe?’

Another pause. Elphaba could almost hear the cogs in Galinda’s brain whirring away.

‘...Um, I do remember, of course,’ she mumbled. ‘I just - I’ve not heard them called that before. Momsie would refer to them as meltdowns and leave it at that.’

‘It’s happened before?’ Elphaba replied, raising an eyebrow. 

‘Well, obviously,’ Galinda said flippantly. ‘But it’s not unusual. Everyone panics a bit from time to time.’

‘Yes, everyone does panic,’ Elphaba nodded. ‘But not everyone has panic attacks, Galinda. They’re a totally different kettle of fish. Exactly how often do you -’

‘ - Oz, it’s not important,’ Galinda interrupted, suddenly sounding a lot more irritated. ‘Will you leave me alone now, please? My bathwater is definitely getting cold, and the bubbles are going. I do want to bathe this evening, if it’s all the same to you.’

‘Right, but -’

‘ - Oh, go away!’

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Elphaba did as she was asked. She turned away and dropped her hand, before she left the bathroom and closed the door behind her - much gentler, this time around. Well, that went swimmingly, she thought to herself. 

She lowered herself into her desk chair once again and picked up the book. Galinda had underlined some passages in pink, and as Elphaba flicked through to the various pages she had dog-eared, she realised they were all revolving around a common theme - Illusionary Magic. Why would she be interested in that? she frowned, scanning over the various sentences Galinda had highlighted. She seemed to be interested in spells that would alter her appearance, and Elphaba scoffed. How shallow she is, to be so wrapped up in the way she looks. 

Then again…Elphaba glanced down at her green hands. The whole reason she wanted to see the Wizard was so he could change her, hopefully on a permanent basis. The spells Galinda was looking at wouldn’t last. What does she even want to change? She’s as close to perfect as they come.

‘Uh-oh,’ Elphaba gulped aloud, giving her head a little shake. ‘No. She’s not perfect . She’s just…blonde. Yes. Blonde.’

*

Galinda started her day with a single-minded mission: get into Madame Morrible’s Sorcery seminars. Following their little spat last night, Galinda had decided that she needed to prove Elphaba wrong and present herself as the excellent sorceress she was certain she was. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t produced a single spark of magic, of course. That’s only because I’ve not had anyone to teach me, she thought to herself triumphantly, as she flourished her eyelash curler in the mirror. Since she wanted to make a good impression, Galinda had decided to rise extra early to prepare herself for her mission, and had been preening for the better part of three hours before Elphaba even stirred. 

Humming to herself cheerfully, Galinda fluttered her eyelashes in the mirror. Her mother used to say her eyes were too large for her face - they give you a perpetually surprised look, dear, almost like a freakish little insect - but later decided that Galinda had grown into them and actively encouraged her to show them off. It was peculiar how quickly Larena Upland changed her mind. She was always adjusting the benchmark, criticising Galinda for something she would then compliment the next week. Galinda tried to keep up as best she could. She wanted to please her. She wanted to please everyone - which was probably why, when she spotted a slight blemish on her chin, she nearly let out a shriek. 

Logically speaking, Galinda knew Madame Morrible wouldn’t notice or even care about the state of her skin. She took stupid Elphaba on as a student, at any rate , Galinda thought bitterly. But still, she wanted to present the best possible version of herself - and that did not involve any sort of blemish. 

When Galinda was younger, she used to have freckles. Her light complexion lent itself to them, especially in the summer months when the sun would hit her skin, bringing them out and lightening her golden hair until it was almost white. Blonde curls were something her parents adored. Her mother enjoyed plaiting Galinda’s hair, fixing it with ribbons and bows. Her father always approved, saying she looked just like a princess. Galinda would giggle and glow. Freckles, however, neither of them liked. Galinda’s first introduction to make-up had been during a particularly sweltering summer when she was seven, and her freckles came out in full force, sprinkling over her cheeks and nose. Her mother had sat her down at her vanity and showed her how to cover them up. They make your face look all unsymmetrical, Galinda, she had said sternly, dabbing on make-up with enough vigour that it started to hurt. You’d do better to cover them up. 

As she got older, her freckles retreated and her hair got a little darker, even when exposed to the sun. Galinda privately missed how she looked when she was little. She’d always thought freckles to be quite adorable. They certainly look cute on El - no! No, no, no! 

Giving herself a shake, Galinda got to work on covering the blemish. A spot was no doubt a harbinger of her period, which was an annoyance, but she tried not to think about that. She always suffered from them, and it would be her first away from home. She sucked at her teeth, frowning as she dabbed over a green-tinged concealer to neutralise the redness that was starting to show. She didn’t need this, not today, not when she had to be at her absolute best to impress Madame Morrible.

There was a snuffle from the other side of the room as Elphaba, groggily, pulled herself into a sitting position. Galinda watched her as she stifled a yawn, rubbed her eyes, and reached for her glasses. 

‘...Morning,’ she said, her voice thick with sleep.

‘Good morning, Elphaba,’ Galinda said coolly, returning her attention to her reflection. ‘I trust you slept well, given you were snoring for the majority of the night?’

‘If anyone was snoring, it was you,’ Elphaba grumbled, throwing back her covers.

‘I -’ Galinda gasped. ‘How dare you insinuate such a thing?! I have never snored in my entire life!’

‘Yeah, and I’m the Wizard of Oz.’

Galinda glowered at her as Elphaba slid out of bed and padded towards the bathroom, stretching her arms above her head as she did so. She didn’t know whether she snored or not, but either way, she thought it was dreadfully rude of Elphaba to point it out. 

‘Galinda,’ Elphaba said, poking her head out of the bathroom, ‘you forgot to drain the bath again.’

‘Oops, sorry,’ Galinda tittered, not at all sincere. 

‘Why did you even have another bath?’ Elphaba muttered. ‘You washed last night. Unless, of course, that cacophony of snoring you were performing made you a bit sweaty, hm?’

‘Go away!’ Galinda said, throwing down her concealer with a huff. Elphaba let out a little laugh - one that both irritated and amused Galinda, for reasons unknown - and shut the door behind her. 

Muttering under her breath, Galinda resumed her make-up routine. She had wanted another bath because she needed to look her best! What did Elphaba Thropp know about that?!

*

Galinda was able to ambush Madame Morrible right after breakfast. She hadn’t eaten much. Her stomach was wriggling with nerves at the prospect of holding another conversation with the coveted Dean of Sorcery, and the mere thought of swallowing down anything other than a few cubes of pineapple made her feel physically sick. Shenshen had something to say about that.

‘Are you on a diet, or something?’ she said, as they went to deposit their used plates in the trollies. 

‘Huh?’

‘You hardly ate anything,’ replied Shenshen, nodding at the bowl of untouched porridge and buttered slice of toast Galinda had picked up on autopilot. 

‘Er - no, I’m not on a diet,’ Galinda said hastily. ‘I’m just not particularly hungry at the moment. W-why? Do you think I need to go on one?’ Her voice wavered a little as she said it, and she hoped Shenshen wouldn’t notice.

‘Oz, no!’ Shenshen snorted. ‘You could probably get away with gaining a few pounds, if anything. I was just curious.’

‘Oh, right,’ Galinda said, clearing her throat. ‘Um…You’d tell me if I did though, right?’

‘Did what?’

‘If I did need to diet.’

Shenshen rolled her eyes, putting her tray in the trolly. ‘Galinda, that’s not for me to say. Your relationship with your weight and your body is nobody’s business but your own.’

That’s not true at all, Galinda frowned. Momsie has always kept an eye on it on my behalf. Before she could refute Shenshen’s statement, though, she spotted Madame Morrible wafting into the mess hall and towards the tea station, looking as regal as ever.

‘Oh!’ she squeaked. ‘Sorry, Shen, I’ve got to go. See you later.’

‘Bye, Galinda.’

Swallowing down her nerves, Galinda carefully smoothed down the front of her blouse - she had chosen to wear a slim-fitting, two-piece skirt suit with polished golden buttons that matched the accents on her heels - and approached her. She had to sneak in the queue to do so, since Morrible, as a faculty member, was allowed to bypass the students, but no one minded. All Galinda had to do was flash them a dazzling smile, and they gratefully made the space for her.

‘Good morning, Madame Morrible!’ she chirruped, her voice several octaves higher than normal. ‘Glorious weather we’re having this morning, no?’

Morrible, who had wrinkled her nose the moment she saw who had dared address her before she’d had her cup of morning tea, gave Galinda such a sour expression that it was a wonder the girl wasn’t reduced to a smoking pile of ash.

‘I suspect a storm is brewing,’ she said flatly, turning her back to select her favourite blend.

‘Um, how can you tell?’

‘I am a weather expert, Miss Galinda,’ Morrible muttered. ‘It pays to read the clouds. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d rather like to take my tea in peace.’ She made a point of moving around Galinda, who had gotten a little too close in her eagerness, and reached for a cup. Galinda got there first, grabbing it for her and offering a smile. 

‘Of course, of course!’ she said, handing her the cup. ‘I too like a nice cup of tea in the morning. I favour peppermint, personally. What about you?’

Morrible’s eyebrow twitched. ‘...Ginger. Preferably in solitude.’

‘Right, yes!’ Galinda nodded, either ignoring the hint or simply not noticing it in her anxiousness. ‘My granny adores ginger tea. I bought her a special blend for Lurlinemas last year that was exported all the way from Rinkitink! Apparently, the vendor had a dreadful old time crossing the Deadly Desert, but I certainly think it was worth it, since the tea was most gratefully received and -’

‘ - Miss Galinda,’ Morrible interrupted, her face tight, ‘is there something you wanted, or did you approach me simply to blabber on about tea?’

A few students who were also in the queue snickered at that. Galinda felt herself go red. 

‘I - no, sorry,’ she said, wringing her hands together. ‘I was just hoping to catch you as soon as I could. I wanted to talk to you about your seminars again. We didn’t really get the chance to discuss that essay I submitted, what with all that bother with Elphaba.’ Galinda took the time to roll her eyes when she mentioned her roommate. ‘And - and I wanted to hear your thoughts.’

Morrible, who was pouring just-boiled water from a copper teapot, seemed to bristle. ‘I would hardly call what you handed in an essay , Miss Galinda. If memory serves, it was only two pages long. Not to mention that I was hardly able to decipher it through the atrocious use of spelling, grammar and punctuation. I thought it was - how do you youngsters say - a prank.’

More giggles. Galinda felt her throat tighten. ‘O-Oh. I thought - I didn’t think that you’d read it.’

‘I read all applications to my seminar series in the hopes that something worthwhile might cross my desk,’ Morrible muttered, dropping in a teabag that smelt strongly of ginger. ‘Suffice to say, I remain disappointed.’

‘But I -’ Galinda swallowed, balling her fists in the fabric of her skirt as Morrible set down the teapot, ‘ - I, um, I worked really hard on it, Madame Morrible. I thought if I was able to demonstrate my passion for the subject, that you might allow me to join your seminars so - so I can learn from someone of your calibre. I do want to become a great sorceress, you know. I’m very serious about it.’

‘Passion is an admirable quality,’ replied Morrible crisply, ‘but you also need talent, Miss Galinda, which is something I fear you sincerely lack.’

One of the students standing behind them literally snorted, then, and Galinda’s cheeks burned. She could feel several pairs of eyes on them, watching and listening as she was slowly dismantled by Morrible’s cutting tongue, and she squirmed on the spot, desperate to not be deterred. She had to try.

‘Um, with all due respect, how can you know that?’ she said meekly. ‘You’ve not even, I don’t know, tested me or anything.’

Madame Morrible arched an eyebrow. ‘Why, do you want to be tested?’

‘I want the opportunity to prove myself.’

‘Hm. Very well,’ Morrible said smoothly. She glanced around at the tea station and the gaggle of students waiting patiently for their turn, and she cocked her head to the side. ‘Go ahead and levitate one of those teacups, Miss Galinda.’

Galinda stared at her. ‘What? Right now?’

‘You’re desperate to prove your worth, are you not?’ Morrible sneered. ‘Why wait? Show me how talented you are, and we’ll see about enrolling you into my seminars.’

‘ This should be interesting,’ whispered one of the students, nudging her friend. Galinda’s eyes snapped to them, feeling her ears growing hot. 

‘I - but you haven’t told me how,’ she gulped, looking back to Morrible. 

‘It is quite the simple incantation, really,’ replied Morrible, taking a sip of her tea. ‘Even those with the most basic command of magic should be able to manage it. Miss Elphaba over there was able to complete the spell after a single lesson.’ A long finger pointed over to where Elphaba was sitting, alone, her nose in a book. She evidently hadn’t noticed the exchange. 

‘Well, you just said it,’ Galinda mumbled. ‘Elphaba had a lesson.’

‘Open your ears, and you’ll receive one now,’ Morrible said curtly. ‘I want you to focus on your chosen teacup. Eyes shut. Toes clenched. Envision your… power ,’ - she couldn’t help but scoff - ‘reaching out to lift it up. Can you manage that?’

Palms profusely sweating as she fiddled with her skirt, Galinda did as Morrible asked. It was incredibly difficult to concentrate with so many eyes on her, watching with bated breath to see if she could actually pull it off. She kept her eyes squeezed shut. Her mouth was pressed in a thin line. Maybe if I concentrate really, really hard, I’ll be able to make it work! When several painful minutes went by without Morrible saying anything, and the snickering from the watching students grew, Galinda relented and opened her eyes. She didn’t really want to. Keeping the shut meant she could allow the illusion of success to last a little while longer. But as she blinked them open, taking in Morrible’s unimpressed expression and the teacup very much not floating in the air, she felt her stomach drop. 

‘Well,’ Madame Morrible said, taking another sip of her tea, ‘I rather think that answers the question, doesn’t it?’

The handful of students who weren’t feeling very sorry for Galinda at that moment - because there was a lot to be sympathetic about, given how Morrible was looking at her as if she was a smudge of dirt on her shoe - went ahead and giggled amongst themselves. Despite her best efforts, Galinda’s eyes grew hot. She hated being laughed at.

‘I - I think if maybe I tried in a more controlled environment -’ she began, her chin quivering, but Morrible held up a hand to silence her. 

‘And that would only further prove that you’re not good enough, Miss Galinda,’ she said. There was no malice in her tone, only stone-cold fact. It made Galinda feel a hundred times worse. ‘Now, if this little circus act is over, I have my morning duties to attend to. Good day.’ With that, she marched off with her tea, nearly clipping Galinda’s shoulder as she did so. 

There was a painfully awkward pause as Galinda stood, frozen, in the way of the tea station. She could feel herself starting to tremble, a combination of disappointment and embarrassment rocketing up from her gut, and she clenched her fists in the material of her skirt even tighter. 

‘Hard luck, Miss Galinda!’ said a voice she vaguely recognised as belonging to Crope, a dark-haired young man in the year above her. He clapped her on the back with a little too much force for her liking. ‘Still, it could've been worse. I heard that Morrible once turned a student into a toad for interrupting her morning brew. Apparently, he still hops around the quad from time to time.’

‘Hah, yeah,’ Galinda managed, her voice shaking. 

‘Good on you for giving it a go,’ Crope continued, evidently trying to make her feel better. 

‘Even if it was a terrible failure,’ someone piped up with a snigger. If a house descended from the heavens and flattened me right this second, I’d be glad of it, Galinda thought to herself, closing her eyes as she flushed a deep pink. 

‘Shut it, Avaric,’ Crope said sharply, turning to glower at him. ‘I’d like to see you try and make something float under Morrible’s discerning glare.’

‘Oh, I totally would,’ Avaric said flippantly, ‘but I know better than to embarrass myself. Seems like Miss Galinda didn’t get the memo.’

Now feeling thoroughly rotten and terribly self-conscious, Galinda swiftly exited the queue and scurried off. She nearly tripped in her haste, but caught herself at the last moment. A fortuitous thing, too - she wasn’t sure she could handle any more blows to her dignity. She swallowed down the lump that had bloomed in her throat and made her way across campus. Thankfully she had a free period right after breakfast - one she knew Elphaba had her Religious Studies class in, something Galinda had no interest in studying - and found the suite empty. She slammed the door shut and pressed a trembling hand over her mouth. 

You’re not good enough.

Morrible’s words rang like a relentless bell in Galinda’s mind. She stumbled, kicking off the heels she had so painstakingly chosen that morning because they matched her jacket, and she made a bee-line for her bed. 

‘Stupid, stupid, stupid,’ she hissed, throwing herself onto the mattress. She rolled onto her side, squeezing her arms around herself, idle fingers clawing into the fabric of her jacket. She had spent so long picking it out, so long doing her hair and her make-up, and for what? To be publicly embarrassed and promptly dismissed by a woman she had grown up admiring? What was the point of it? What was I even trying to achieve? Of course I’d never be able to pull something like that off. Of course she would think me incapable. 

‘You idiot,’ Galinda whispered, her eyes filling up with tears. 

She wasn’t a stranger to the feeling currently gnawing in her gut - failure, failure, failure - but it never got any easier. And she never learnt how to cope with it. Sniffling, Galinda reached around to grab one of her scatter cushions, bringing it to her chest and burying her face into it. In an ideal world, she’d be cuddling her childhood teddy, a little pink penguin called Salmon. He’d grown bald from the amount of times she’d snuggled with him, but he was currently tucked away in a large box on top of Galinda’s wardrobe. When she found out she’d have to share a room, she promptly snatched him from her bed and had hidden him away. She briefly wondered whether that was why she had been struggling to sleep at night, but that was only a front for the real reason - that being her increasingly conflicting feelings surrounding El - no! Not now! Don’t think about her!

Despite her best efforts, Galinda knew she was about to cry. There was no point in stopping it. Letting out a sad whimper, she pressed her face into the soft silk of the pillow, and allowed her tears to fall and soak the fabric. She’d always been a big crier - too many emotions and not enough space for them - but she rarely allowed herself to cry in public. When she got older, she quickly learnt that it was unbecoming and childish to dissolve into floods of tears where other people could see her. In the privacy of her own suite, however, when she knew she wouldn’t be disturbed by her roommate, she let it happen. 

You’re not good enough. 

You’re not good enough. 

She knew that. Of course she knew that. It was the same story in a different font. She hadn’t been good enough at school to keep up with her classmates, always one step behind, always confused as to why her friends were able to excel in exams as easily as breathing, while she required extra time just to read the questions. It’s lucky you’re pretty, Galinda, they would say, smiling as if it was a compliment.

It wasn’t just school she felt inadequate at, though. It was everything she tried. 

I don’t know what’s so difficult, her mother would sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose as Galinda clumsily stumbled through a ballet routine she was supposed to be rehearsing. None of the other little girls have two left feet. You’re like a baby elephant. Galinda didn’t go back to the ballet classes after that. She had liked going up until that point, before she realised there was a sense of competition perpetuated by mother. After the criticism, though, she found every gesture a struggle, too self-aware to really enjoy it, and too self-conscious of her bumbling movements. 

You never think, do you ? her father had muttered, when he came home from a lengthy business trip and discovered she had painted him a wobbly ‘WELCOME HOME’ banner on sheets with too high a thread-count to be used as an arts and craft project. Tidy that away before your mother sees. And for goodness sake, scrub that paint off your dress. She’ll have both our heads if it stains. Galinda had then promptly retired her paintbrushes entirely. She used to love it. She used to set up a makeshift easel in the gardens, sticking her tongue out as she tried to accurately capture the lengthy driveway that led up to the main house. Her granny would clap whenever she saw what Galinda had created, kissing the top of her head, but her mother would smile falsely and put the creations somewhere the guests wouldn’t see. 

When Galinda grew up, she became more and more aware of her perceived inadequacies. She couldn’t ride a horse as graciously as the other well-bred girls. She couldn’t bake buttery pastries and tarts without singing the tops of them. She couldn’t obtain high grades in her exams. She couldn’t keep the boys she courted around long enough for the relationships to progress. And worst of all, she couldn’t seem to make her parents happy. 

It’s hard work, raising you , her mother bemoaned tiredly. Sometimes I really wish we’d had another child. 

A sob got caught in Galinda’s throat. She hiccuped into the pillow, hating herself for it more and more each second, wondering why she got worked up, why she couldn’t just make that stupid teacup float, and why she vehemently believed that looking her best would somehow trick Morrible into thinking she was a competent student. 

She had first read about Madame Morrible when she was twelve. Having had an interest in Sorcery for as long as she could remember, her granny would buy her bits and pieces to foster the dream, and one of which happened to be a magazine called Which Witch is Which , where there was a two-page spread dedicated to Morrible’s life and career. She had been born in Gilliken Country, just like Galinda, which gave them an instant connection (at least in her eyes).

Galinda had devoured the article, her eyes alight with excitement, staring at the sternly beautiful portrait of Madame Morrible the magazine had used. She had read it so much that she could recite the entire thing from memory. She carefully tore out the pages, folded them up, and put them in her special box where she kept birthday cards, tickets, precious trinkets, and anything else she deemed important to her. And whenever she felt frustrated at herself - because of school, or ballet, or horseriding, or cookery - she would retreat to her little box, look over the article, and feel a little better. She had a goal. She didn’t need the best grades, or ballet or horseriding or cookery, in order to become a successful sorceress like Madame Morrible.

The joy of magic, of true magic, the article read, is that it can make the powerless feel capable. I myself came from humble beginnings, but through diligent study, careful craft, and immense dedication, I was able to reach even greater heights. The same can be said for any aspiring spell-caster - with guided direction and hard work, we can bring magic back to our great land of Oz in bucketloads. We need only try. 

Galinda’s parents thought her obsession with magic and Morrible to be a little concerning. They were worried it was a distraction. But when they saw how tremendously serious she was about the whole thing, they too tried to nurture it. A sorceress in the family would be a very fortunate thing! her mother beamed, as she helped Galinda haul several large tomes from the local bookseller back to the estate. How proud you’ll make us, darling. 

It didn’t work out the way she envisioned, of course. And with or without Elphaba, Galinda knew it was a lost cause. She had let her parents down. Again. As she did with every single thing she tried her hand at. What was worse, she had utterly embarrassed herself in front of her peers and demonstrated what a failure she was to the woman she looked up to above all else. 

‘You stupid, stupid idiot!’ she wept. Her voice echoed in the suite. Her chest hurt. Her face burned.

You’re not good enough.

You’re not good enough.

You’re not good enough.

*

The sky had darkened into a deep, bruising purple by the time Elphaba had finished up dinner and retired to the suite. It had been a trying day - while Galinda appeared notably subdued, for whatever reason, the rest of her friends were not. Elphaba had to navigate their petty comments and endure their insults right up until she shut the door of the dorm, letting out an agonised sigh. There was only so many times she could be called disgusting in a day before it actually started to grate on her. 

Galinda was standing by the - now mended - balcony window. She seemed fixated on the sky, her lower lip caught between her teeth. Elphaba had noticed, for a girl who wore a lot of lipgloss, she spent a large portion of her time nibbling it off. 

‘Hi,’ she said, taking off her shoes. ‘I think a storm is rolling in.’

Whatever trance Galinda had been in seemed to break, and she turned her attention towards Elphaba. ‘Mm. Morrible said something similar this morning. Makes you wonder why she doesn’t do something about it.’

‘Well, a big part about being a sorcerer is understanding when to interfere, and when to leave alone,’ Elphaba said, unpacking her books from the day and stacking them on her desk. ‘If Morrible maintained perfect sunshine over campus at all times, the plants and wildlife would no doubt suffer for it. Responsibility is a key factor in spell-craft, after all.’

‘Yes, I know that,’ Galinda said impatiently. ‘I have read The Five Principles of Spell-craft, Elphaba. It’s just an annoyance. I was planning on having evening drinks down in the forest with Shenshen and the others, but we’re not going to bother now.’

Elphaba, who was quite surprised Galinda even knew what The Five Principles of Spell-craft were (a manifesto penned by Morrible herself in her youth and stamped with approval by the Wizard himself), raised an eyebrow. 

‘Drinks? Special occasion, is it?’

‘No, not particularly,’ Galinda said, moving away from the window. ‘Just because you don’t socialise for the sheer fun of it, it doesn’t mean the rest of us are so condemned.’

‘All right, all right,’ Elphaba muttered. She wasn’t too thrilled at the prospect of spending an evening with Galinda, but that was looking increasingly likely. She figured she’d make an alternative suggestion. She wanted to study, and Galinda was a terrible distraction. ‘...You could always, you know, find a sheltered spot on campus and drink there.’

‘Are you daft?’ Galinda spluttered. ‘We’re not allowed alcohol on university grounds. Coddle would have us all out on our backsides if she caught us.’

Well, it was worth a shot, Elphaba thought forlornly. She settled into her desk chair and got to work on one of the many extra credit assignments she was undertaking. As if she didn’t have enough work to do as it was, but Elphaba felt she wanted to make the most out of the unexpected opportunity that had befallen her. Being two years Nessa’s senior, she had turned 20 without enrolling at university - not for a lack of want, of course. All Elphaba had ever dreamed of was joining a prestigious and learned institution, but her father had explicitly forbidden it. Elphaba had planned on applying in secret despite his orders, but when he noticed several prospectuses coming through the post, he quickly caught on.

What makes you think someone like you could possibly thrive at university? he had snarled, ripping in half a prospectus for Grandview, a well-established institution in the heart of the Land of Ev. It had seemed perfect - and far enough away from Munchkinland that Elphaba hoped she might escape her father and its ignorant residents - but she never even got the chance to have a look. I thought I already told you, Elphaba; you’re not to leave me sight. I cannot run the risk of more people finding out about you.

Without Madame Morrible’s intervention, Elphaba was certain that her father would’ve swiftly removed her from Shiz and ensured she didn’t stray too far. She was acutely aware of how fragile the situation was. She had to please Morrible, lest she risk her place, and that meant undertaking a lot of extra reading - on top of keeping up with her other classes, to boot. Massaging her temple, Elphaba picked up her pen and began to write. It didn’t matter that she was tired. It didn’t matter that she was developing a headache. I cannot lose this. 

As she feared, though, Galinda was already proving to be a distraction. Oz , she thought to herself, as Galinda paced restlessly around their room like some sort of caged animal, is she incapable of sitting down and keeping still ? 

‘You’re going to wear a hole in the floorboards,’ Elphaba muttered, as Galinda drifted from the fireplace to the bathroom and back again. And again. And again. She kept stealing cursory glances out the window to the rapidly darkening sky, biting her lip. 

‘It’s getting really dark,’ she said quietly. ‘It’s not even terribly late. That’s - that’s pretty unusual, isn’t it?’

‘It’s as I said,’ Elphaba replied, rubbing her temple again, ‘we’re expecting a storm.’ 

She thought she heard Galinda audibly gulp, but decided she must’ve imagined it. She tried to train her attention back on her work, rather than her agitated roommate, and clicked on her desk lamp to combat the shadows. A warm, yellow glow cast itself over the desk, and she relaxed a little. There was always something cosy to be found in lamps, at least in her opinion. She rarely liked to sleep without one on, but had quickly gotten out of the habit when she started sharing a room with Galinda. As much as she disliked the fact, she really didn’t want to disturb Galinda’s sleep. I bet she’s the sort who needs at least ten hours of undisturbed rest, or she’s even more insufferable than usual. Of course, Elphaba couldn’t be further from the truth, but she liked to think that way to disguise the real reason she kept the lights off - because she didn’t want Galinda thinking she was childish. 

Sighing, Elphaba was about to start writing her extra credit essay out proper, when she heard a slight grunt from the other side of the room. Her eyebrow twitched. 

‘What exactly are you up to now?’ she said, turning in her chair to frown at Galinda, who was presently tugging one of her obnoxiously pink trunks across the floor. 

‘I’m - ugh - trying to get a box down,’ Galinda grumbled, hauling the trunk into place at the foot of her wardrobe. Elphaba glanced up and saw a large pink (sigh) box atop it. She had no idea how Galinda had managed to get it up there in the first place, given her short stature, but that was not her present concern.

‘And you really think climbing on that is a good idea?’ she said. ‘How do you expect to manage that gigantic box if you’re balancing on another one?’

‘Oh, do you have a better idea?’ Galinda demanded, slapping the lid of the trunk as if testing its sturdiness. 

‘Yeah. Let me help. I don’t want you to break your neck.’

Before Galinda could protest, Elphaba had set her pen down and marched over to the wardrobe.

‘And how exactly are you going to do that?’ Galinda huffed. ‘You’re not that much taller than me. Although you do rather resemble a beanstalk.’ She chuckled delicately at her own joke.

‘Wow, as if I’ve not heard that one before,’ Elphaba said sarcastically. ‘And my height doesn’t matter. I meant that you could pass it down to me once you’ve got it.’

‘Why are you being so helpful? It’s…auspicious,’ Galinda frowned. 

‘I think you mean suspicious,’ Elphaba said, trying not to smirk. ‘If I was being auspicious, that would mean you were finding my help rather favourable.’

Galinda didn’t have a rebuttal for that. Her cheeks, for some reason, had gone a little pink. Elphaba watched as she scrambled up onto the trunk and grabbed at the box. It must’ve been heavier than she remembered, because she seemed to falter somewhat as she tugged it towards her, and with it came a cloud of dust.

‘ Ah - ach-oo! ’

Elphaba had to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing. She wasn’t sure she’d ever heard Galinda sneeze before. If field mice could sneeze, I bet they’d sound like that, she smirked to herself. How cute - wait, what?

Frowning at that strange little thought, Elphaba surveyed as Galinda struggled to yank the box to the edge of the wardrobe. She held out her arms, waiting for her to pass it to her, but Galinda was quite obviously finding it tricky to pick it up. Not knowing how else to help, Elphaba then did something which, in retrospect, was a terrible idea. She opened her mouth. 

‘Um, good job,’ she said softly, as Galinda finally managed to get a grip on it. ‘You’ve got it.’

Unfortunately for Galinda, the praise seemed to quite literally knock her off balance. She misjudged her pivot, the box held above her head, and she felt herself tipping over before she could even let out a surprised yelp.

‘Galdina - !’

There was a loud thump as the box slammed against the floor, slipping from Galinda’s grip and narrowly missing Elphaba’s head. Galinda lost her footing and flailed, and Elphaba, acting on instinct more than anything else, reached out to grab her. 

‘Whoa, easy!’ Elphaba panted, supporting her weight. ‘Are you okay?’

Galinda’s face was pressed against the curve where Elphaba’s neck and shoulder met, and she seemed to be trembling ever so slightly. Elphaba heard the girl let out a squeak, before she practically threw herself out of the hold and took several steps backwards, pressing herself against the wardrobe. 

‘Um…You’re not hurt, are you?’ asked Elphaba, feeling a little uncomfortable. Galinda’s expression was hard to read. Her mouth was hanging open, and her face was so flushed that even the tips of her ears were tinged pink.

‘I - you - I’m fine!’ she screeched. ‘Where’s the box? You were supposed to take it!’

‘And you were supposed to hand it to me, not launch it at my head,’ Elphaba grumbled, feeling a little affronted that she hadn’t been thanked for saving the girl from face-planting the floor.

‘Don’t get snarky with me! You offered to help!’

‘Galinda, will you calm down for a moment?’ Elphaba said, pinching the bridge of her nose. ‘You’re fine, I’m fine, and the box is fine. Why are you getting so worked up?’

Though Elphaba didn’t think it possible, Galinda’s face went even pinker. 

‘I - because - oh, just get out of my way!’ she stammered, strutting past her to where the box had landed, quite unharmed, on the floor. Elphaba watched as she scrambled to her knees, huffing under her breath, and proceeded to forage through its contents like some sort of disgruntled squirrel readying itself for the winter. 

‘What are you even looking for?’ Elphaba asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

‘That is absolutely none of you - eep!’

Galinda was interrupted when, after a slow build-up, the storm hit with a shuddering crack of thunder that seemed to shake the walls. Elphaba jumped a little in surprise, but the humour of the situation quickly bypassed the shock.

‘Did -’ she snorted, unable to stop herself from laughing, ‘ - did you just say eep?’

‘I - no, I did not!’ Galinda snarled, but her voice lacked its usual bite. She went back to rifling through the box again, casting out shoes and clothes and stockings like she was digging a hole, now with much more urgency. Rain started to lash against the windows, sending speckles of grey light to dash over the floorboards like ink. 

‘Oh, please -’ Galinda whispered. ‘Where is he?’

‘Where’s who?’

‘I’ve already told you, it’s - oh, Oz!’ 

Another ill-timed thunder strike clipped Galinda’s response, and this time, she let out a squeaking yelp. It was less amusing to Elphaba, who was realising very quickly that Galinda, for all her dramatism, was not playing around. Her hands were starting to shake. Well, this isn't good, Elphaba thought. I think she might actually be scared of storms. 

‘Um, I’ll close the window,’ Elphaba said, at a bit of a loss. She strode over to Galinda’s side of the room and reached up to secure the latch on her window, making sure the rain wouldn’t get in. Galinda loved a gentle breeze to waft through the suite at all times, but the wind was picking up with the rain and the thunder, and her things were at risk of getting wet. At least there wasn’t any -

A bright, quick flash flooded the suite, and Galinda quite literally jumped out of her skin. 

‘ - Lightning,’ Elphaba muttered. She edged back over towards Galinda, who was trembling in earnest, and knelt down opposite her by the box. 

‘I can help you go through your stuff, if you’ll let me,’ she said quietly. Galinda nodded mutely. Elphaba didn’t like how much her hands were shaking. ‘...What is it you're looking for, exactly?’

‘It’s -’ Galinda cleared her throat and shirked Elphaba’s gaze. ‘It’s my…teddy.’

Elphaba’s mouth fell open, but she quickly closed it again so as not to make Galinda feel self-conscious. And to think, I was worried she would call me childish for wanting the light on at night! 

‘Okay,’ said Elphaba coolly. ‘That should be easy enough to find, even amongst all this mess.’

‘It wasn’t messy when I packed it!’ Galinda snapped. ‘It’s just - when you dropped the box a-and I started going through it, everything got all crumpled and disordered and wrong -’

‘ - Galinda, it’s fine,’ Elphaba interrupted, seeing the girl start to work herself up. ‘We can tidy it when the storm has passed. Let’s just try and find this teddy, okay? What does it look like?’

‘He’s a he, not an it,’ muttered Galinda. ‘And he’s a penguin. A pink penguin.’

‘Pink, of course,’ Elphaba smiled - not out of scorn, but fondness. Galinda got the wrong end of the stick. 

‘If you’re just going to laugh at me -’

‘ - No one is laughing,’ Elphaba said. ‘I just think it’s sweet, that’s all.’

‘And now you’re patronising me!’

‘Oz, do you always catastrophise everything?’ Elphaba sighed. ‘I’m not laughing at you, and I’m not patronising you. In fact -’ Elphaba got to her feet, walked over to bed, and stuck her hand under it. She rummaged for a moment, before her fingers closed around something soft, and she pulled out a little black cat. The ears were tufty from use - Elphaba liked to smooth them over her palms when she was troubled - and it had white paws like cotton balls and crooked whiskers.

‘This is - um - this is Soup,’ she said, cringing a little as she held up the ratty-looking teddy. 

Galinda’s face, to Elphaba’s relief, pulled into a genuine smile. ‘... Soup?’

‘I named her when I was three, okay?’

‘And do you have a particular fondness for soup in general, Elphaba?’

‘Of course I do! Soup - soup is an excellent dish! Very versatile!’

‘Uh-huh,’ Galinda giggled. ‘Well, I can’t exactly judge you. Mine - if we ever find him - is called Salmon.’

‘Ah. Big fan of fish, are you?’

‘I named him after the colour,’ Galinda pouted. ‘Which, I think you’ll find, makes a lot more sense than - eek!’ She broke off in a little shriek, slamming her hands over her ears as another bellow of thunder ululated through the room. 

‘Okay, right - let’s find him,’ Elphaba said quickly, returning to Galinda and the box with Soup tucked under her arm. ‘Are…are you looking for him because of the storm?’

Galinda didn’t say anything for a moment. She was breathing a little irregularly, clearly trying to calm herself down. She swallowed thickly, and when she looked up at Elphaba to respond, her eyes were wide and overly bright.

‘Um, yes,’ she admitted. ‘Sorry. I know that’s silly.’

‘It’s not silly to be afraid of storms, Galinda.’

‘I am not afraid, thank you very much,’ Galinda said, affronted. ‘I don’t know who you think I am, Elphaba, but I’m not a child. E-Everyone knows there’s nothing to be scared of.’

‘Right. That must be why you keep yelping when the thunder hits.’

‘I do not!’

Elphaba closed her eyes in irritation. Galinda could be mortally wounded and bleeding out all over the floor and still deny it, if it meant saving face. How exhausting that must be. 

‘Okay, whatever you like,’ she muttered. ‘If you’re not frightened, why exactly did you pick now to unearth this teddy of yours?’

Galinda nibbled her lip, still burrowing through her possessions. ‘...Because - um - the storm jogged my memory, that’s all. My granny gave him to me after a huge storm that toppled several of the trees around the estate. S-So I just sort of…remembered him.’

Elphaba believed most of that story to be true, but she was absolutely certain that Galinda was leaving out a crucial detail - that being she only got the stuffed animal in the first place because she had been scared of the storm. Not that Elphaba was about to argue, though. There was little point in that.

Relenting, Elphaba pushed aside a particularly raunchy bra, blushing - in what world would she have cause to wear this?! - and uncovered a sweet-looking, well-loved penguin. It was wearing a wonky little tophat and a lop-sided bowtie, and looked ever so soft. She picked it up with a tenderness she didn’t expect of herself, and suddenly felt a pang for the quivering girl opposite her. While Galinda was on the cusp of turning 19, the sight of the crumpled penguin reminded Elphaba, with no small amount of sentiment, that she had once been a little girl. She had needed cuddly toys to soothe her and had sucked her thumb like the rest of the children who had out-grown their teddies and moved on from childish habits. And while the current Galinda might’ve been an insufferable airhead with an acid tongue, the girl she had been still existed, somewhere, behind all the pink.

‘Here,’ Elphaba murmured, handing it over to Galinda’s awaiting hands. ‘He’s cute.’

‘He’s old,’ Galinda said, her voice catching a little as she cradled him to her chest.

‘So is my cat. That’s what makes them so special.’

‘Yes,’ Galinda replied, not quite looking Elphaba in the eye. ‘I suppose that’s true.’

*

The storm, to Galinda’s genuine horror, was a relentless one. Even after she and Elphaba had retired for bed, rain was still lashing against the windows and thunder seemed to splinter the sky. She had buried herself under her blankets, trying to muffle the sounds, clutching Salmon to her chest. He was only a little thing, but she nuzzled his soft belly and attempted to save face in front of Elphaba, who was settling down for sleep in her little bed. It was bad enough that Galinda had exposed Salmon in the first place, let alone revealing her intense fear of -

‘ Eeeeek!’ she yelped, unable to stop herself as a particularly loud crack of thunder shuddered through the room. It had been a very long time since she’d experienced a storm this bad. Elphaba had ‘helpfully’ explained that the moist air caused by the surrounding rivers, plus the unusual warmth they’d been experiencing, was the perfect breeding ground for a devastating thunderstorm. And Galinda was not happy about it. 

‘...You okay over there?’ came Elphaba’s voice through the darkness. Galinda nodded under the covers, but then realised Elphaba wouldn’t be able to see her.

‘Fine, yes, fine!’ she said. ‘I just - saw a bug on the bedside table.’

‘Right.’

Galinda pressed her teddy closer to her, shutting her eyes. She wasn’t sure how she was expected to sleep under such conditions, but she had to at least try. She couldn’t afford another restless night, lest her eyebags grow eyebags. Unfortunately, the storm did not pass quickly. Lightning kept shooting across the room, casting strange shadows, and the rain bludgeoned the windows so hard, Galinda was genuinely worried about the integrity of the glass. Shiz was an old institution - could it withstand such an onslaught, or would it crumble?

When a particularly nasty rumble of thunder made Galinda cry out, she heard an additional, quieter thump from the opposite side of the room. Her breathing shallow, Galinda poked her head out from under the covers, and found a figure looming over her. 

‘E-Elphaba!’ she shrieked. ‘What are you - why aren’t you in bed?’

‘Because I’m not going to get any sleep if you keep yelping like that,’ Elphaba said. She then had the audacity to click on Galinda’s bedside lamp, dousing the room in pink. ‘In fact, neither of us are. What’s got you so worked up?’

Galinda, who was seething, glowered at her in what she hoped was with a terribly mean face. This was undercut by the penguin tucked under her chin, of course. 

‘Nothing! I’m trying to sleep, which I can’t do if you’re leering over me like that.’

‘Look, being afraid of storms is nothing to be ashamed of,’ Elphaba said tiredly. ‘Nessa used to hate them as a child. I value my rest, Galinda, and I can’t get any if you’re freaking out.’

‘I am not - Oz!’ Galinda yelped, as another round of thunder echoed across the suite. The lights flickered, and she looked at Elphaba with a pout. ‘...In all fairness, that one was really, really loud.’

‘Is there anything I can do to help?’ Elphaba asked. Her face was strained, like she was holding back a laugh. 

‘You can go back to bed and leave me -’

Galinda was cut off when a dull pop sounded throughout the suite, and the lamp went out. 

‘Oh, has the bulb blown?’ she grumbled, as Elphaba went towards the door. She tried the light switch. Nothing happened. Galinda’s eyes strained through the darkness as she watched Elphaba stick her head out the door, and heard snatches of confused conversations from the other students who shared their corridor. 

‘I think the power has gone out,’ Elphaba concluded, closing the door with a click. ‘That’s a bit of a pain. Do you have any matches?’

‘The - the power has gone?’ Galinda stammered, her blood running cold and completely ignoring Elphaba’s other question. 

‘Yes. Not surprising in a storm like this one,’ Elphaba replied. She sounded a little nervous. ‘In fact, I think it’s closer to a hurricane, given the wind speeds and heavy rainfall. Though it’s a bit unusual for a hurricane to be accompanied by lightning, I must say, so -’

‘ - Elphaba, shut up!’ Galinda interrupted. ‘I don’t want a stupid Meteorology lesson! I - I want it to stop!’

‘Well I can’t do that, can I?’ Elphaba said, walking back to Galinda’s bed. ‘And unless you want to go and bother Madame Morrible at this hour, we’ve no choice but to ride it out and - wait, are you crying?’

‘N-No,’ Galinda sniffled, hastily wiping her eyes. She pressed her lips together, trying to stop her chin from quivering, but it was no use. Even in the low light, Elphaba could see the wetness on her cheeks.

‘Galinda…’

‘It’s nothing. It’s fine,’ she said shakily, making a point of turning away from Elphaba and burying herself deeper into her duvet. It was only when she felt the bed dip, did she fling herself around in horror.

‘What in Oz do you think you’re doing?!’ she shrieked, as Elphaba clambered onto the bed next to her. She didn’t get under the covers, and she folded her arms over her nightdress as if she was disgruntled by the turn of events. ‘Elphaba! Get out!’

‘When Nessa couldn’t sleep in a storm,’ Elphaba said, pointedly ignoring Galinda’s obvious hostility, ‘she said the only thing that helped was having someone close by to soothe her if she needed it. We used to count the time between a lightning strike and a round of thunder, and the longer the distance, the further away the storm was drifting. Now, I know you don’t like me, but neither of us are going to get any shut-eye if you can’t settle. So I’m staying.’

‘And what makes you think your presence will soothe me? If anything, it’ll make things ten times worse!’

‘Hm. Is that why you’ve already stopped trembling so much?’

Galinda froze, suddenly feeling very self-aware. Elphaba had hit the nail on the head - the moment she felt her warmth next to her, just shy of nudging her body, she had relaxed a little. That’s…that’s just a strange coincidence! 

‘It’s interesting,’ Elphaba continued, when Galinda didn’t answer, ‘that you don’t like storms, Galinda. I rather enjoy them myself.’

‘That’s not surprising,’ Galinda said savagely, ‘because storms are unpleasant and unlikeable and put a horrible dampener on things, just like you.’

‘You know what? Forget it.’

Elphaba went to swing her legs out of Galinda’s bed, eerily in sync with another thunderclap, and Galinda reacted entirely on instinct. Her hand shot out in the darkness and closed around Elphaba’s wrist. 

‘Wait, no, I’m sorry,’ she blabbered, her chest tightening. ‘Don’t leave. Please.’ Oz, I sound so pathetic. She’s even more likely to go now she’s seen how puerile I am, with my stupid teddy and my stupid fear of storms and - 

‘Okay,’ Elphaba murmured, easing back onto the pillows. Galinda’s grip around her wrist tightened. 

‘That - the counting thing,’ she said, swallowing thickly. ‘How does it work?’

‘You want to try?’

‘I want to have assurance that this horrid storm is going to blow over without ripping up the foundations, yes.’

‘Galinda,’ Elphaba asked, shuffling down a little so she was propped up, but not fully lying down, ‘before we do, I have to ask…what is it you don’t like about thunderstorms?’

‘What’s there to like?’ she spat. She shifted towards Elphaba a tiny bit, before she even realised what she was doing, and got a waft of whatever perfume she used. It’s so…comforting. It’s like that feeling when you see an old friend after a long time, and - wait! No! It’s not! It’s weird and earthy and tickles my nose!

Elphaba chuckled quietly. ‘It’s a matter of perspective, I suppose. But in my case, I guess I find them sort of…reassuring.’

‘I think you might be insane, Elphaba Thropp.’

‘Maybe, maybe,’ Elphaba smiled. ‘I like how loud they are, in truth. My room back home is in a very…um, isolated area of the house, I suppose. When I was little, I used to hate how quiet it was. It was ever so sinister. The storms brought with them a sense of comfort because they filled the silence.’

‘Why was your bedroom so isolated?’ Galinda asked with a frown. She rather had the opposite problem. Her sprawling bedroom - a series of chambers, really - was situated right above the main ballroom where her parents often hosted lavish functions. Galinda rather liked falling asleep to the muffled sounds of music, chatter, and the tinkle of glasses being nudged together in polite toasts. When she got older, she was actively encouraged to show her face. 

‘Why do you think?’ Elphaba scoffed. ‘My father was limiting the chances of any guests spotting me.’

‘...Oh,’ Galinda whispered.

‘Yeah. Oh.’

The niggling feeling of guilt returned to Galinda’s gut. Every time Elphaba revealed a little more about her childhood, she felt a tiny sliver of sympathy claw its way from her chest, wanting to reach out and take her hand. How lonely she must’ve been, to find comfort in storms. 

‘...I hate how noisy they are,’ Galinda murmured before she could stop herself. ‘I - I mean, it’s just…’ she huffed under her breath, trying to articulate why she struggled so much in a storm. ‘There was an absolutely gigantic storm that hit the Pertha Hills when I was quite small. Frottica is right in the centre, and it suffered for it. The storm flattened several trees around our estate. I genuinely thought the sky was about to come down on top of our heads. My parents were hosting one of the local governors that evening, and I…’ 

Galinda trailed off, fiddling with Salmon’s flippers. She didn’t know what had come over her, but hearing Elphaba tentatively reveal something about her own past made her want to, as well. No matter how uncomfortably the story was. 

‘...I was really scared,’ she said, her voice wavering as she remembered. ‘I thought the windows would blow out. I called for Ama Clutch, for the servants, for anyone, but they were all wrapped up in the party. So I went downstairs to find Momsie and Popsicle, but I interrupted their important gathering and they -’ her breath hitched, the memory washing over her with a shudder. 

She remembered the feeling of the banister catching on her sweaty palm. She had been much shorter back then, and had to stretch up to reach it as she stumbled down the stairs, her knees knocking together from fear. Her nose was sore and her throat hurt from crying and calling out for help. Her pink nightdress was damp with sweat. And the thunder echoed spectacularly in the halls, lightning flashing over the garish portraits and busts and sculptures that decorated the entrance way. She wiped her face with her sleeve and followed the sounds of conversation - not at all perturbed by the storm - and managed to find the party. Heads snapped towards her in shock. Who would expect a snivelling child at an important social gathering, where wine was flowing and political secrets were spilled?

Momsie, she had whimpered, weaving in and out of legs, spotting her mother in a grand lilac gown, conversing quite happily with a man she could not remember the face of. Momsie, I think the storm is going to make the house fall down. 

Her mother had a laughed a strange, high-pitched guffaw that made Galinda’s ears hurt. 

Oh, you silly girl! she had tittered, handing her glass to Galinda’s mortified looking father and hastening towards her. Always making a mountain out of a molehill with that active imagination of yours. She whipped her head around, talking to the party guests. We’ll have to knock that out of her, I fear! 

The guests laughed and Galinda’s cheeks burned. She didn’t understand what was so funny. Couldn’t they see the threat they were under? The rain was too heavy, the wind was too loud, and the thunder was going to fracture the walls. Tears streamed down her face and she balled her hands in her nightdress.

I’m not being silly! she whined. I - 

She was cut off when a thunderclap screeched through the room and she cried out, slamming her hands over her ears. She burst into a fresh bout of tears, closing her eyes and willing it all to just stop. 

Galinda, cease this ridiculous behaviour at once! hissed her father, marching over to her and grabbing her wrists, tugging them away from her ears. It’s just a storm. There’s nothing to be scared of. 

But - but - Galinda sobbed, her chest spasming, feeling eyes on her from all angles.

No buts. Come on. 

He had yanked her away, away from the faceless guests, away from her mother. She caught what she was saying - Don’t mind her - she’s just overdramatic - putting on a show - seeking attention - and another sob broke from her lips. 

For Oz’s sake, stop crying! her father snapped, dragging her across the entrance hall. The lights flickered in their sconces, and she nearly tripped over her own feet at the rate he was pulling her along. Her arm ached. Do you know who that was in there? The new Governor of Gilliken. It’s essential we build a rapport with him and establish a good image, and you’ve managed to embarrass us with your hysterics!

I’m s-sorry, Popsicle, I didn’t m-mean to. 

There will come a point when you’ll need to grow up, Galinda , he had said, shoving her towards the back door with no small amount of force. She could smell wine on his breath. And part of that is learning that storms are not something you need to throw a tantrum over. 

He opened the grand double doors that led to the back patio, and a violent rush of wind shot into the hall, making all the paintings shake. Without giving Galinda a moment to protest, he promptly nudged her outside, slammed the doors, and locked them.

She was left out there for an hour. While there was some shelter on the patio from a balcony above, the rain came in sideways, soaking her to the skin. She remembered how cold it had been. How loud the thunder. How terrifying the trees looked, roaring in the dark, toppling into the hedges. She remembered the humiliating flood of warmth running down her legs. She remembered when Ama Clutch, having been charged with letting her back in, had cradled her in her arms and rocked her until she had calmed down. 

It’s alright, little duckling, she murmured, stroking her wet hair. You’re safe. The world is not going to end just because of a silly old thing like a storm, I promise. 

Galinda knew that. She knew that more than ever, now she was older. She knew she was never under any threat - as if Popsicle would ever put me in any danger, after all! - but that didn’t mean she could simply stop the feelings associated with the sound of thunder. The panic, the shame, the abandonment. And it certainly didn’t mean she could stop herself from flinching every time thunder cracked the sky. She had to make do with hiding under her covers and cuddling Salmon, who her granny had given her when Ama Clutch had a few hushed words about what a state she had been in. And she never sought comfort in a storm again

Until that night, when it was offered without judgement.

‘...Oz, Galinda,’ Elphaba said, when Galinda had told her an abridged version of events. ‘Your father seriously locked you outside in a storm? What was he thinking?’

‘He was thinking it would teach me a lesson,’ Galinda mumbled, her voice thick. Her eyes were wet and she blinked them away hurridly. ‘And it did. Not the one he was hoping for, though.’

‘Well, it’s no wonder you’re scared,’ Elphaba concluded. ‘How old were you?’

‘Four.’

‘Gods. That’s…that’s horrible.’

Galinda’s ears pricked up at the shift in Elphaba’s voice. Her stomach churned unpleasantly. 

‘Um, you - you sound cross,’ she gulped.

‘I am cross. But not at you.’ Elphaba let out a sigh, unfurling her hands. ‘...Did it help?’

‘Did what help?’

‘When your Ama Clutch cuddled you like that.’

‘...Yes.’

Galinda heard Elphaba swallow in the darkness. There was a pregnant pause, undercut only by the thunder, and Galinda flinched violently. Then, she heard a gentle rustle, and the feeling of a warm, steady arm being wrapped around her shoulders. She froze. It took her a moment to realise that Elphaba was attempting to cuddle her. She was stiff and awkward and clearly had no idea what she was doing. Galinda’s heart melted.

‘Er -’ Elphaba cleared her throat. ‘Is - is this okay?’

Galinda turned her body so she was facing Elphaba, tucking her face into the crook of her neck, breathing in her scent. 

‘Yes, it’s okay,’ she whispered, her arm stretching over Elphaba’s stomach and curling around her waist. She pushed herself further into her. She felt the soft fabric of Elphaba’s nightdress, and rubbed it between her fingers and thumb. 

They lay like that for a while, Elphaba stroking Galinda’s hair whenever she flinched at the thunder, and they counted aloud in the dark. They didn’t say anything else. Galinda was afraid to, in case it broke the spell. She didn’t know what she was feeling. Panic still surged through her system, but with every tender whisper from Elphaba as they counted the seconds between a lightning strike and a thunderclap, she found herself melting more and more into her side. Before she even realised what was happening, she was nuzzling deeper into Elphaba’s neck, lips just shy of touching the green skin there. I wonder how she’d react if I were to kiss her, just once, just there, just now - wait, what? Why would I even think that?! Don’t be weird! Don’t be weird! 

Eventually, the wind seemed to settle. The loud lashing of rain against the windows reduced to a melodic patter. And Galinda’s chest finally loosened. 

‘...Looks like the storm has passed,’ Elphaba said softly. 

‘Oh, so it has.’

‘Guess we should settle down for sleep.’ Elphaba made to move back to her own bed, but Galinda’s hand shot out to grab her arm.

‘You can stay,’ she blurted out. ‘I mean - that is to say - since the power is out, you won't be able to turn on the lights, and it’s dreadfully perilous to cross the suite - especially from all the mess we made looking for Salmon - and - and -’

‘ - I’ll stay,’ Elphaba said. Her voice was soft. It warmed Galinda to her toes. 

Without saying a word, Elphaba slipped under Galinda’s duvet and lay on her back, her arms folded neatly above the covers. Galinda gulped and rolled over, facing away from Elphaba, and cuddled Salmon. 

‘Goodnight, Galinda.’

I like hearing her say that so close to me. 

‘Yes…Goodnight.’