It was like being greeted by an overfed purple rooster.

As Elphaba opened the door, she was intercepted by a shrill, "Don't come in!" the source of which was a writhing lump of purples feathers and mesh on the far side of the room. The purple monster flailed at the foot of Galinda's bed.

"It's me..." Elphaba told the rooster uncertainly, taking a step into the room.

"Oh, Elphie!" whined the muffled soprano voice. The lump seemed to deflate. "Help me out, here!"

With a silent chuckle, Elphaba moved over to her entangled roommate and pulled the mess of fabric back over her head. Galinda let out a gasping, "Whew!" and put a hand to her middle to make sure everything was intact. Underneath, she wore a silvery slip that had probably cost more than all the books on Elphaba's shelves.

"Trying something new, are we?" Elphaba tossed the heap of feathers onto Galinda's bed.

"I'm trying," she groaned, "It's just not working. I paid top dollar for that frock and waited two weeks for it to arrive, and look where it's gotten me." She scowled and put a hand to the aggravated skin on her arm, where the mesh had rubbed against it.

"What a plight!" Elphaba enthused. "Galinda Upland, you are an inspiration to us all."

Galinda cast her a punishing look. "Don't be snide, Thropp. It doesn't suit you."

Elphaba chortled and rolled onto her own bed. "Stupid thing!" said Galinda, tossing the rejected ensemble into a pathetic heap in the far corner of the room, in the shadow of the underused bookshelf. Elphie closed her eyes and listened to the grumbling noises of Galinda getting herself dressed again.

Each girl was lost to her own thoughts for a long stretch. That was the nice thing about her friendship with Galinda, Elphaba had decided. There was no rushing. It was like they existed in the eye of a great storm, perfectly in tune with one another. However talkative she could be, Galinda never forced conversation, and they could go for hours in companionable silence.

Elphaba liked silence. She shut her eyes, listening to the rhythmic beating of the old ceiling fan above. The ceiling was surprisingly high, with a dark web of wooden rafters that seemed to come to a shallow point above. But that area never truly caught the light of their bedside lamps, so Elphaba couldn't say for sure.

She had often enjoyed tormenting Galinda with speculations about the rat and cockroach families that surely made happy homes in the dark recesses of their ceiling. Elphaba spun tales about giant spiderwebs with egg sacks containing a million million spider babies, hanging precariously in the immediate dark space above Galinda's bed.

That kind of talk earned her a right slap.

Elphaba entertained herself with these memories, an unconscious smile - the shadow of a laugh gone by - playing on her face. The happy memories were placating, and before she knew it, Elphaba had fallen into a soft mid-afternoon doze. Galinda snuck out, momentarily afraid that Elphaba - a light sleeper - would be disturbed by the click of her platform heels. But, as she pulled the door closed, Galinda was assuaged by the sound of her roommate's deep, gentle snore.