Elphaba stared down at her timetable for the semester in front of her, trying to angle her laptop so the sun didn't obstruct her view of the screen. She was in the library, sitting by one of those arching windows that reached from the desks right up to the high ceiling. Normally she would appreciate the grand, gothic look of it all, but not when the afternoon sun was glaring its goodbye. She wished there was somewhere else to go, but few places were likely to be open before the start of the semester tomorrow.

She would rather be in her room, except - well.

Galinda Upland had taken over it, decorating. She didn't ask Elphaba to leave or anything, but Elphaba knew how to take a hint, however brutish her roommate clearly thought she was.

After unpacking, she had gone over to the dorms on the other side of the campus to check on Nessa - the shiniest, newest, and most expensive ones, that is, so of course her dad was paying for Nessa to stay in them. He had already left: Elphaba received the perfunctory text message she was expecting only a couple of hours ago. Leaving now. Take care of your sister, Elphaba. See you for Christmas.

Nessa seemed to have settled in well enough. The very first ground-floor room from the entrance was a designated wheelchair-friendly room, and accordingly, very spacious and very single. As Elphaba entered she had noted the wide hallways and carpeted floors with some interest; it looked more like an ultra-modern Emerald City hotel for yuppies than a student dorm. It occurred to her that in three whole years she had never stepped foot inside the dormitories in this square, had never had a friend that would bring her here.

Clearly, this was the hall for rich international students and only the most well-to-do Ozian students. She supposed, despite their pretty ordinary background, her sister would definitely count given the way her dad went out of his way for her.

Her relationship with Nessa wasn't bad by any means. They were as friendly as any pair of siblings, as far as she was concerned. She felt bad for the kid, honestly, because the only thing she could imagine more tedious than the indifferent way her dad treated her was the downright overbearing way he treated Nessa. This morning, for instance - he wouldn't let her go to the pharmacy at the bottom of their street alone just to pick up some travel sickness tablets before they set off for Shiz. Elphaba did her own damn groceries when she was thirteen.

She knew that she was Nessa's one respite, the only one in that house (or at all) that treated her the way teenagers want to be treated. Nessa, in turn, was one of the only people she had ever known that was nice to her. Actually nice, not pitiful or wary or in any other way distant. Someone who saw past her skin and her caustic manner, though she knew that that probably only happened out of sheer exposure. Still, for that she could forgive her sister's infuriating naivete, her bad taste in music and even her innocent obliviousness towards the gap in the way their father treated the two of them.

Nessa would be just fine here, was what her dad was unwilling to realise. Elphaba, on the other hand… Looking after Nessa, in her father's terms, meant the same thing they did when they were in high school - going with her sister to parties, tagging along on tedious nights out in town, and whatever else Nessa decided suited her fancy. Elphaba couldn't help but resent the callous dismissal of her own priorities. Why should her dad care how she wanted to spend her free time? Where she wanted to go? Who she wanted to mix with?

Not that she had a lot going on in that department. Of course, there were the people in her clubs, the ones that she read with or went to protests with. A few coursemates that she made idle chat with on a regular basis over the years. But that's all those relationships were. Group chats organising events, heated conversations over coffee over this article or that book, about how they were going to email that organisation or boycott this speaker.

She never had what seemed to come so naturally to everyone else. She knew she wasn't the most approachable person, but - everyone else around her seemed to have managed to cultivate some real kinds of friendship.

And she was highly aware of the fact, more than she wanted to be. She would watch people. Giggling on their phones when they should be listening in the middle of lectures, meeting in the spare moments between classes for lunch. She had no one for that. No one that would come to the library at midnight with her to have philosophical conversations when they should both be studying. No one to sit in the cafeteria and watch stupid videos with. Certainly no one to surprise her with a gift on her birthday, to sit in some dorm hallway with a drink at 2AM sharing their dreams and worries.

She didn't need that, of course. Never had, her whole life.

But wouldn't it be nice?

Hell, the closest she got to a compliment outside of her academic and extracurricular work was the occasional breathless art student - and they always were art students - rushing up to tell her how brave and inspirational she was just for being green. She snorted.

Still, she wasn't sorry that the closest friend she had in Shiz was her academic tutor. She was not going to fake it for anyone.

It was getting dark now. She should probably get back to her room. She shut the lid of her laptop and gathered her things, but not before scrawling the identification codes for the coming week's books on the back of her hand with a ballpoint so she could look for them on her way out. It was a good thing she liked reading, she thought absently, because apparently, that's all a sociology degree was.

Outside, the air was still warm. Elphaba didn't rush the walk the back to her room. The one silver lining about that dull place and having to share it with Galinda Upland, was that she had the pleasure of witnessing someone like Galinda having to make use of a modest space like that. Hopefully the taste of plebeian life would soon knock her down a few notches.

When Elphaba opened the door to her room, the first thing she noticed was that the place already looked different. In Galinda's corner of the room, a massive, fluffy rug adorned the space next to her bed. It was garish and garishly pink, looking like the corpse of some animal, if Elphaba had to tell the truth. A string of pale pink fairy lights was strung across the back wall of the room, across the top of both their beds. Galinda had one end in her hand, and looked like she was furiously trying to pull down some sticky tack around it.

"It would look weird, just on one side of the room," she said by way of explanation, without looking behind her. Her voice was more even than the tension in her shoulders would suggest. "I hope you don't mind," she added, sounding like she couldn't care less if Elphaba minded.

Elphaba felt on edge.

She wasn't going to say anything, actually, because it did look nice. The lights were bright and pretty, the white glow of each little bulb circled by a halo of soft pink. Now that there was some liveliness in the room, she realised how gloomy the place had felt without it.

But it was Galinda's tone - dry, matter-of-fact, because of course Elphaba couldn't have anything to say about it, what opinion could she give, what sense could someone drab like her possibly have about the aesthetics of a place?

Elphaba stretched out the tautness clamping up her shoulders, found her eyes scanning quickly around the room for an easy pick. Galinda's haul appeared to include a couple of table lamps (pink), and a small assortment of storage boxes, also pink, but shiny and modern and quaintly oval-shaped. A couple of them were large, one empty except for another nesting inside it, but Elphaba could see the other full of shoes peeking out from under her bed. The smallest of them were sitting on her tiny desk (identical to Elphaba's), taking up most of it, and holding what looked like an enormous set of makeup brushes, matching rose-gold handles glinting in the glow of the fairy lights.

She said bitingly, "You know, most people leave some space for books and pens and that kind of thing."

When Galinda turned and snatched a glance up at her, and Elphaba saw the redness in her eyes, she immediately wished she had bitten her tongue.

...

It was a good first week back, all in all. Elphaba settled back into the rhythm of classes easily. Her routine hadn't really changed much in three years, so it wasn't too hard, and the daily catch-up with Nessa face to face cheered her up more than she thought it would. She had gone to see Dr Dillamond on Tuesday and he had given her the final go-ahead on her dissertation project with such praise that it kept her glowing for days. Galinda, even, hadn't given her much grief. They hardly saw each other; every time she was in the room Galinda seemed to be elsewhere, and vice versa. Elphaba wasn't sure herself whether they were doing it on purpose, like some kind of silent mutual agreement.

To tell the truth, she felt more than a little wary around her new roommate. Nothing she could glean about Galinda told her they could have anything in common.

Elphaba bent to adjust the velcro on her shoe. It was just past noon, Friday, and she had nothing else on her timetable. Next stop: a good, strong peppermint tea from the campus cafe before heading to the library.

"Elphaba!"

She turned around at her name and almost walked right into a beaming Fiyero. He was holding a steaming coffee cup, backpack slung easily over one shoulder. She took an instinctive step back, feeling a little gormless already.

He saw it, and immediately his smile became more bashful. "How was your summer?"

"Fiyero! Hi. It was fine, nothing special. How about you?"

"Uh, good and bad." He said. "I'm surprised I haven't seen you all week!"

"Well, it's not like we have the same classes or anything..." Elphaba said with a loud laugh. Little too loud. Why did she feel so awkward?

A brief moment of silence. Elphaba reflexively set her gaze somewhere behind Fiyero's head. God, she was not equipped for this.

"So, um… I actually read a couple of those books from that list you gave me…"

Elphaba's eyes widened. "Really?"

She didn't expect that. Considering that when they first started talking, sometime in the final few weeks of the last academic year, he had actually complained about having to read a twenty-page chapter for one of his classes.

"Yeah - actually, I wanted to talk about that. And - I dunno, catch up. I was thinking coffee sometime this weekend?"

"You liked reading them?"

This was getting so bizarre.

"Yeah. I spent so long, just - like, thinking about it. I can't believe I never thought about the world before. That was the good part of my summer actually. Discovering all this stuff." He looked earnest.

She was really curious now. "And the… bad part?"

He scratched the back of his neck, arms taut under the flimsy white layer of his t-shirt. Trust Fiyero to be dressed for the beach even with autumn fast approaching. She forced herself to look at his face.

His voice was quieter when he spoke again. "Uh. I broke up with my girlfriend. Just before we came back, actually."

"Your girlfriend? Who were you -?"

The realisation hit her suddenly. Galinda, her face, her hands with those lights in them. Of course. Shit.

She remembered only now that had seen them together around campus, many times.

Fiyero's voice became even quieter, if that was possible. He looked embarrassed. "Galinda Upland? You know - Management? Lots of pastels? Pretty popular."

Elphaba nodded automatically, decided on the spot to omit the fact that yes, she knew, in fact, he was talking to none other than her roommate. She felt guilt pool in her stomach all of a sudden, and then she felt annoyed for feeling guilty.

She didn't know at whom, though.

"I just feel bad because I think I left her with no place to stay… she was living with me in my apartment, you know, so..."

Oh, god.

"Well, I'm sorry," She said, slowly and sincerely. Her mind was full of pink fairy lights.

Fiyero shook his head dismissively, suddenly pensive. It was a weird look on him. But not entirely unwelcome. "Don't worry about it. It wasn't gonna work," he smiled at her. Touched her arm.

She felt warm (and not just warm in her cheeks - she was touched). He was clearly trying to make sure not to drag her mood down with his own.

Elphaba felt dizzy with something - had anyone ever done that for her before?

"I have a lecture now, but - coffee. Remember. Would Saturday be good? I'll text you!" And then before she could finish a smile and a nod he was gone, as quick as he came, steps practically leaping.

...

The weekend was perfect. They went to one of those tiny hipster cafes, far away from campus (the kind Elphaba secretly loved, despite herself, and despite what she could say about the gentrification courtesy of the graduates in this town) and talked for a good few hours. Fiyero wasn't the most - aware person, but he was clearly trying. They talked not only about the books, but their studies, what they did over the summer. Even their parents. Elphaba steered away from hobbies, however, because that naturally led to talking about friends.

She didn't want to think about that when she was having such a good time. She didn't care about being alone, but she wasn't sure yet what someone like Fiyero would think of it.

But Fiyero was learning about her. And more than that - he was looking.

Looking at her in a way that made her want to be glued in her seat and run far away all in the same instant. She tried hard to feel normal about it but she couldn't help that she felt strange - uncomfortable, even. No one had ever had those kind of intentions towards her - and that's if she was reading him right, and she couldn't blame herself for wondering and second-guessing herself about whether she even was reading him right.

She was half-relieved when it was over, to tell the truth.

And now she was standing at the edge of Galinda's corpse rug, staring at her reflection in the full-length mirror that her dear roommate had (admirably, she admitted) managed to fix on the wall between her desk and her wardrobe. It was against regulations, but a glance around her belongings assured Elphaba that Galinda's parents would probably be paying for the damage without a thought.

She had felt - wrong, somehow. To be inhabiting her body and her face when someone was looking at her like that. It was too new and too strange and to be honest, a little unbelievable. Elphaba didn't really believe the way she looked mattered, and she certainly wasn't someone who saw sense in spending time and money on her appearance. She wasn't at university to get boys. She hadn't expected any attention like that, and had good reason not to, so the fact that she was receiving it came as more of a surprise than if the idea had been on her mind.

She looked at her gawky posture, her arms dangling under her black t-shirt. It was one of Nessa's, but she said she didn't like how ill-fitting it was on her. Her face, green, and familiar as her own name. She had definitely got the pitiful "you don't look bad for someone with a condition like that " more times than she could count, usually some sweet misguided girl in her high school classes trying to make her somehow feel better with unwanted attention. But it's not like they ever became friends over it.

She looked at her hair laying lank on her shoulders. It was long, and she liked that. Felt like it helped her avoid having to try in other ways, like make-up, for example. And she was thankful at least that it was darker than the rest of her family's, dark enough to sort-of match her skin tone, like some little silver lining. Her eyes, her long nose, her mouth. The set of her brow, and the sharpness in her jaw. She closed her eyes and opened them and closed them. She was fine. She wasn't fine. She was thirteen - and if she stared hard enough, if she really stared, she could make the edges of her vision blur; if she focused her mind on her features long enough, she could imagine it. Eyes, nose, lips - reflected back at her - set in a different face, a regular face, regular skin. She didn't care what colour, how light or dark or oily or pimply.

A key jammed harshly in the lock, followed by Galinda swinging the door open.

Elphaba jumped backwards. She tried hard to look like she was doing something else. She felt suddenly, really self-conscious, anger and embarrassment at herself rising and mixing fast in her head. Maybe entertaining the thought of dating someone was not worth it, if it meant she was suddenly going to care about this crap that she thought she had left far away in her middle school days.

Galinda squinted at her, taking in her position, trapping Elphaba in the mirror.

"You can use it, you know." She said carefully, like Elphaba was a small child that needed explanation. She whispered under her breath, "God knows you could do with a little bit of looking in the mirror."

Elphaba stared at her, her blood boiling. And in less than a moment, something strange happened - Galinda seemed to catch herself too, because she suddenly tensed and stood straight, mouth gaping like a fish. Her eyes widened. She clearly hadn't meant to say anything.

Elphaba tore away her gaze, and curled her fists to make sure they were there and she had heard everything right. She could feel her pulse in her fingertips. She wasn't going to make a staring match out of it. She waited an awkward few seconds for an apology but Galinda didn't give her one. She seemed to retreat, looking somewhat guilty and self-defeated, busying herself with unbuttoning her coat and one-handedly checking her phone.

Elphaba tried to blink away the anger. She was foolish. To think that just two days ago she was feeling sorry for this girl, even thinking about postponing whatever the hell she was doing with Fiyero just for her sake, for the sake of a tolerable living arrangement. She smiled bitterly at herself. She should have known.

She could easily predict what was running through Galinda's mind right now. Bitter that her ex was into someone like Elphaba, someone who looked like her and talked like her and gave a shit about the things she did; in a nutshell, someone with every characteristic the opposite of Galinda's. Her anger morphed into smugness before she could help it.

To hell with a tolerable living arrangement, and to hell with her own doubts and to hell with that self-pitying bullshit. She was going to show Galinda what she was worth.