Chapter Three: Mutual Smooshyness

There is a lovely little corner of campus where students go after class on nice days like these, with trees and benches and a well-kept pond full of koi. There is a small patch of forest just beyond the clearing which is empty except for us. Everyone is still in class and I should be in Ozonomics. Fiyero is a bad influence.

We've spread out a blanket in a patch of sunshine for our picnic lunch which is now being devoured by ants. I've ignored our ham and cheese sandwiches in favor of samplifying the fruits of Vinkus, which are far more tasty. Fiyero is nibbling on my lower lip. I thread my fingers through his dark hair and give a little yank, just enough so that he arches his back and gasps into my mouth. Perfection.

But it doesn't take long for me to get bored of this. It is how we've spent every one of our dates. Fiyero's fingertips are dancing across the exposed skin of my lower arm as his lips move across my throat. He sucks fervently at the skin. That's going to leave a mark… I look up at the powder blue sky above me, watching some whispery clouds. I want to talk. My brain needs engorgement.

"Fiyero," I say, "tell me a story?"

"Hmm," he says, lips brushing against my ear, "once upon a time, there was a lovely girl named Galinda. She was made of gingerbread and very tasty." He nips my earlobe.

"No, silly," I say, poking his chest. "I want us to get to know each other. Tell me a story about you."

"I thought we were getting to know each other just fine," he says, lowering his lips back to my neck.

"Fiyero?" I ask sweetly, clenching my fists.

"Hmm?"

"What's your favorite color?"

"Mmph…blonde," he answers.

"Mine is…" I begin, but I stop when he slides his hand under my shirt. He pinches my breast uncomfortably hard through my bra. Stupid boys. I give a yank on my bra strap and the cup slides upward, freeing my breast for him. This is our fourth date, after all. Some of this is to be expected.

More pinching. I frown, turning my head so he can't see my face. I had higher expectations. I really should be in class, I think. I hate missing my lessons and I'm starting to feel guilty. It is of the utmost importance for me to excelerate in everything I do if I want to become an advisor to the Wizard. And unfortunately, I'm already struggling a little bit.

"Fiyero, what do you want to be?" I blurt out. "I mean, what do you want to do with your life?" He immediately stops pawing me. I don't know why I asked, but at least I get some reprieve.

"Why are you asking so many questions?" he asks me, twisting a curl of my hair around his finger.

"Because… I want to know my boyfriend," I whine, leaning my head against his shoulder.

"Is that what I am now?" he asks.

"Fiyero, that's not funny!" I say, pulling myself out of his arms.

"Galinda, I was joking," he says, reaching out for me.

"Stop trying to avoid my questions," I say, standing - or rather, kneeling - firm beside him.

"It's just, I don't like to think very much about the future," he says. "While you're busy making plans for life, life makes other plans for you. When your agendas don't match up, you're only disappointed."

"That's really depressing," I say.

"I prefer to think of it as full of possibility," he says. "There are many adventures to be had if you just go where life takes you. I suppose I may go into the military because my title gives me instant rank. But I don't know." He drums his fingers on the

ground beside him. "And as for colors, I suppose I like green, like the grass and the trees…"

"Like Elphie," I giggle, moving back into his arms.

"That too. Galinda," he says, stroking my hair, "I have a story for you. Have I told you about how I got kicked out of my last school?" I shake my head.

"There was a skylight above the faculty lounge and my buddies and I, well… We found a way onto the roof. So I went up there during lunch time, took off my pants and gave those stuffy old professors the thrill of their lives."

I know that this is supposed to be funny and I should laugh. Instead, I feel my lower lip start to tremble. "You can't get kicked out of Shiz, Fiyero," I say, pulling him close to me. He freezes, puzzled by my response. "I don't want to lose you! You'll go to some other school… find some other girl to have picnics with." My eyes well up with tears. I look up at him pleadingly and he wipes a tear from my cheek with his thumb.

"Galinda," he says, his light brown eyes looking into mine with the uttermost sincerity, "I would never leave you for another girl. You're perfect." I smile a bit between my sniffles. He pinches the tip of my nose gently. Poor guy. He's being such a good sport. But I can't let the matter go quite yet.

"If you don't want to get kicked out, Fiyero, you need to start going to class," I say.

He frowns a bit. "Okay," he says. "I guess I can go to classes sometimes. If it makes you happy, Galinda."

"Good, because then I don't have the temptation of missing classes to spend time with you." I smile and squeeze the sides of his face together so that his lips puff out like a fish's. Mr. Fishyface reaches for a sandwich and my scream is the only thing that keeps him from getting a mouthful of bugs. He tosses his buggy ham and cheese into the shrubbery.

"Wasn't hungry anyway," he shrugs. "Speaking of Elphaba," he says, "your little… project seems to be going well. She's been looking almost pretty these days."

"Oh, yes, I am pleased with that. But her feelings are all mixed up about it. I don't think she likes the attention."

"She's not used to it," he answers. "Not like you and I. We grew up with it, but I'm sure it's very overwhelming to her."

"You are very insightationary, my love," I say, innocently unbuttoning the top of his shirt and running my fingers over his collarbone. I don't see why I can't reward the boy a bit for finally having a conversation with me. "I've had some insightations about her myself."

"Such as?"

"Like you said, she's not used to the attention, because she didn't get much of it as a child. She also didn't get much affection. Nobody ever really touched her. I've decided to start touching her as often as possible." My Prince's eyes go wide and I'm not entirely sure he's reacting to the feel of my nails across his chest or to what I just said. I guess it did come out kind of odd…

"Oz help her," he chuckles, "at the mercy of your magic fingers! Oh, what I wouldn't give to be a fly on the wall in your dorm room." I remove my hand from his chest and punch his arm.

"Fiyero! I don't have those… sorts of inclinations!" I protest. I guess I shouldn't tell him that I've been undressing in front of her, too. It all sounds rather strange outside of contextualization. I've risrobed in front of my other friends countless times, but I've never done it in a way that's quite so… deliberate. However, if my aim was to seduce, I could be much more deliberate about it. For a moment, I imagine how I'd take my clothes of for Fiyero, once we get that far. If I did that in front of my roommate, she'd probably die of embarrassment.

"If you don't, why is it that you look to be on the verge of giggles?" he asks, tickling my stomach. I squeal with laughter and swat away his hand.

"Totally unrelated thoughts, I assure you!"

"I'm sorry Galinda, I'm a man, after all. I have a highly active imagination," he smiles at me.

"For your information, Mr. Yero, I've been brushing her hair. I give her lots of hugs. I lean on her shoulder while she's reading. These are all perfectly normal things that girls do!"

"And I'm sure it does wonders for her wounded soul, my little humanitarian," he says, nuzzling against my cheek. "Still, it's not an altogether unpleasant mental picture…"

"Fiyero, are you saying that you actually find her attractive?" Does this mean I've done a good job? Should I be flattered? Or insulted that my boyfriend has such low standardizations? I'm completely flustered.

"You're not getting jealous, are you?" he laughs, "Of the green bean? I guess in her way she's actually quite striking, but any woman pales in comparison to your beauty. Besides, you're more striking in the literal way." He rubs his arm where I punched and his hand where I slapped. "There's one thing I've wondered though?"

"And what's that?"

"Is she green all over?"

"Excuse me?"

"Are her nipples green?" he asks with a twinkle in his eye, catching my hand and bringing it to his lips before I can strike at him again.

"How am I supposed to know? Fiyero, I don't know about you, but I don't go around studying the nipples of my friends!"

"You really should," he whispers as he kisses my wrist. "I want a full report tomorrow, starting with Miss Pfannee and Milla. And I guess Shenshen, too…" It's obvious that he has nipples on the brain, because he's going for mine again. Oh goody. Oh well. The conversation was fun while it lasted.

I settle into my chair at the usual cafeteria table to find Aliss from history sitting across from me in Shenshen's usual seat. She grins at me, looking incredibly smug. I have no time to ask questions before Pfannee returns with a tray and sits down beside her.

"Galinda," Pfannee beams, waggling a finger at me, "Somebody wasn't in class today, and I'm not talking about Fiyero, because we both know he's never there. It seems as if a little blonde may have gone missing in action with him…"

"That would be me," I say, confirming her suspicions. But… isn't she going to tell me what is going on with Aliss?

"Oh, scandalous! What did you do?" Pfannee asks, but I'm not paying attention. I am staring at Aliss's face, which is no longer covered in acne, but in mismatched pink splotches of concealer. Her usual straight brown hair is curled and she's wearing one of Pfannee's dresses. Pink, to match the splotches on her face.

"Oz to Galinda?" Pfannee asks. "Galinda, are you there? That really must have been some date!"

"Oh, yes, Fiyero. Well, we had a picnic…" I'm so distracted. Aliss. Pink blotches. Pfannee's dress. Why?

Shenshen shows up, taking the seat to Aliss's left. "Hi Galinda, hi Pfannee! Hi… Miss Agnes?" she says. Aliss scrunches her nose, but tries to smile. Shenshen looks bothered by the whole thing.

"Pfannee?" Can I talk to you for a second? Over there?" I yank my friend out of her seat and pull her to the corner of the cafeteria. "What is 'the human zit,' as you so affectionately called her, doing here, wearing your clothing?"

"Oh Galinda, I thought you'd never ask," my friend smiles. "You see, I got a pity project of my own."

"Pity project?"

"Like your roommate," she says. I feel myself get a little bristly. Elphie is a project, but not a pity project. She's a cute little green project! "I figured we could have a contest of sorts," Pfannee continues. "See who can make their adopted freak of nature more popular. Shenshen thinks I'm nuts, of course. She says I'm too competitive." I look back at Shenshen and Aliss, who are doing their best not to talk to each other. The world is going mad.

"So you're friends with Aliss now?" I ask Pfannee.

"Of course not," she replies, "though she thinks otherwise. She's really a dreadful bore. Almost wish I had picked the lispy one, she's got more spunk. Though really, she'd be more of a challenge. Anyway, lets go back to our dinner. You had a date and we need details!"

I tell my tablemates a highly embellished version of my date in which Fiyero declared his undying love for me and did such amazing things with his mouth that I almost gave him my virginity on the picnic blanket. I can't very well tell them how I'm bored of him touching me and even a little annoyed by it. I can't tell them it's a struggle to get him to use that tongue of his to talk, or how the best part of the date was when we talked about my roommate. Who, by the way, has far too much dignitary to be considered a pity project!

I guess he's like the Warrior of Vinkus. We don't speak the same language, and touch is the only way we can communicate. Yes, that makes it seem that much more romantic.

I feel sort of bad for Aliss, and not just because she's been subjected to Pfannee's cosmeticary ministrations. Every time she tries to speak, my friends basically ignore her. And it's not long before her smug expression changes into something a little more forlorn. Oh well, not my project, not my problem.

When I walk back into the dorm room, Elphie is reading. Big surprise there. She is lays on her side, propped up on her elbow, legs twisted together at the ankles. She's wearing a white sleeveless dress that I've loaned her and her glasses are perched on the tip of her nose. She doesn't even look up at me. She never does when she's reading, I don't know if she even hears me come in. An earthquake could bring Shiz to the ground around us right now and her nose would still be buried in that book. Frankly, I'm tired of the lack of acknowledgment.

I am feeling confused, wound up and flustered from my date with Fiyero and dinner with my friends. I'm in no mood to be ignored. I am going to get my roommate's attention! I leap onto the mattress next to her and start tickling her side. She starts, arms flailing wildly, and lets out a far more girlish squeak than I ever thought possible for her. I didn't know what to expect, but this reaction is pretty fantastical, so I have no intention of stopping.

Elphie rolls onto her stomach and flattens herself against the mattress, trying to crawl away from me. Not to be deterred, I straddle the backs of her legs and pin her to the bed beneath me, raking my fingers over her ribs, down her sides to her waist. She wriggles and shrieks, laughing frantically in her odd way. I don't know how I ever hated her laughter. It's the most real and genuine thing I've heard today. And I am laughing just as hard, that is, until her forehead smacks into her open book.

I should stop before she gets a conclusion. I move aside, freeing her from my grasp. Elphie looks at me almost fearfully as she sits up, rubbing her head. Her face is a dark shade of green. I gently pluck her glasses from her nose.

"Hello, Elphaba," I say between giggles, "How nice to see you."

"If this is how you show affection, I think I preferred when you hated me," she says dryly. "It involved far less bodily injury."

"Except when that book fell on you," I say.

"That was you…?" she asks, the realization dawning.

"Elphieeee's ticklish!" I sing-song.

"I think that comes as a surprise to both of us," she frowns. "That may very well have been the most disturbing experience of my life. Consider yourself congratulated."

She wraps herself in her blanket, pulling it tightly around her sides and goes back to her book. Oh well, it was fun while it lasted. But I really need to study too. I take out my Ozonomics textbook and mustard my concentration, pouring over the material that would have been covered in today's lecture. It lasts about an hour or so. My mind is so jumpy, I have a hard time focusing. I rub my temples.

"I am getting sleepy," Elphie announces, snapping her book shut. She stands, yawns and stretches her back. I'm not really paying attention to her, that is, until I hear an unzipping sound. I look up and my dress is on the floor around her ankles. My roommate is standing in nothing but her panties, arms folded self-consciously over her bare chest. She turns her head away as I look up, casting her eyes to the floor. I don't want to stare. But she said it herself: she is a curiosity. And I am a curious. Fiyero would love to be a fly on the wall right now, I'm sure, but I am not reporting back to him about the color of… anything.

She unfolds her arms to reach for the nightdress. My eyes follow the graceful curve of her spine. It is the only significant curve on her body. I can see the sharp outlines of her ribs through her emerald skin. Her breasts are small, too small to require the use of a bra, though the right bra could definitely give her a little boost. I file that thought away for later. She's far too thin, but still oddly beautiful as she stretches her slender arms into the sleeves of the borrowed nightdress, letting it fall past her hips and over her lanky legs. She turns her head slowly, catching my eye for a split second. The look on her face is fearful, as if I am somehow going to hate her now that I've seen the full extension of her greenness. Quickly, I start undressing too to try to mitigate the awkwardness.

She catches me poking at a purplish bruise below my left nipple and looks away. "I should have iced it," I say. Before I put on my nightgown, I inspect myself in the mirror, looking over all the marks Fiyero's eager mouth has left. There is a trail of red patches down the side of my neck and another one above my cleavage. Badges of honor for endurance. I sigh.

Elphie sits on her bed, staring at the wall. She looks so lost… so broken. How hard it must have been for her to let someone see so much of her. I sit down behind her and reach for the hairbrush to begin our new nightly routine, hoping to reassure her that things are no different than they were before. I gather the silky strands of her mane behind her head and begin to work my way through them, but she doesn't relax the way I want her to. My little green rag doll sits rigid.

"Elphie?" I ask. She doesn't answer. The collar of her nightshirt slides down, revealing the edge of her shoulder. Without even thinking, I run the tip of my finger across the green skin. She gives a little shiver.

"Elphie, I know you share your lunches with Dr. Dillamond, but do you give him all your food?" I ask.

"What do you mean?" she asks in response.

"You're too skinny," I say, tracing back and forth over the line of bone beneath her exposed skin. "It worries me a little."

"Less to gawk at," she says with a shrug.

"Stop saying things like that!" I admonish, throwing my arms around her. I rest my forehead on the back of her neck and wrap my arms around her waist. After a moment, it occurs that I might be embracing her too tightly, because she doesn't seem to be breathing. I loosen my grip a bit and sigh with relief when I feel her inhale.

"My poor Elphie," I whisper quietly, "my favoritest roommate. I wish you liked yourself."

"Your only roommate. I like myself well enough, Galinda," she says, "That is, I exist as I am, so I might as well make the best of it." I don't like that answer. I slide my hands up to her shoulders and give a gentle squeeze, feeling her tense beneath my fingers. In response, I start kneading her tight muscles.

Suddenly, she sits up bolt-straight, jerking away from me. "What are you doing to me?" she asks, turning to look at me with wide, scared eyes.

"Massaging," I smile. "I'm not hurting you, so sit back and enjoy it. Fiyero says I have magic fingers!"

"I'm sure he is most appreciative of your talents, being as they are," she says stiffly. For the second time today, I feel tears well up in my eyes.

"Oh Elphie, is that what this is about?" I ask, pressing my hand to my breast. I've been flaunting my exploits in front of my friend. Now, she thinks I'm easy. I feel ashamed. "What you must think of me for letting him get this far this soon. I promise you though, I stopped him there."

"No, my sweet. No," she says, the anger disappearing from her face. "Please don't cry. You're far too pretty to have red, puffy eyes. I can't bear the responsibility for that." I'm used to people being affected by my tears, but I didn't expect her to be.

She scoots up to me so that our knees are pressed together and lays her hand across the back of mine, giving it a gentle squeeze. I stare at the contrasting colors of our skin. She raises her other hand to stroke my cheek. I look up into her big, dark eyes, still feeling a little ashamed.

"What you and Fiyero do with one another is none of my concern, and what I said was completely inappropriate. You didn't deserve it. You didn't deserve my outburst the other night, either, when I said that you were just using me, because you really have been nothing but kind… Lately anyway," she adds with a small smile. "Galinda, you have to understand, I've never really had a friend before. I'm not used to kindness, to sharing secrets, to being touched. I'm especially not used to being touched, and frankly, it frightens me. I'm still recovering from the tickling, or whatever it is that you call it."

"I'm sorry, Elphie. I can stop if you want me to," I say, feeling guilty. "I know I've been evading your space a lot lately."

"No need to be sorry, it's in your nature," she says as her fingers trace over the back of my hand. "Asking you to stop would be like asking me not to be green. A pointless and totally unfair request, don't you think? And even though it scares me, I'm not sure I would want you to stop."

"If that's the case…" I lift a hand to her face and run my fingers over the soft angles of her jaw, testing her. She doesn't move or take her eyes from mine. "Turn around," I say. It's not a request; it's a command. "I'm going to finish what I started, and you are not to fuss about it."

"Yes, my sweet," she says and does as I ask. As I place my hands carefully back on her shoulders, she makes a little sound, not unlike a sob.

"If you need to cry, it's okay," I say, kneading my fingers up her neck and stroking softly behind her ears. "My momsie always said that feelings are like gas. Embarrassing to let out sometimes, but if you hold them in, it hurts like hell. Better out than in, right?"

"Oh, I bet you never break wind," Elphie chuckles quietly.

"I break wind very quietly and discreetly," I say. She laughs outright.

"I've grown rather fond of that laugh," I say. "And I may resort to unfair means in order to hear it more often. Are you ticklish here?" I ask, making little circles with my fingertips on the side of her neck. She laughs again, softly, but doesn't fight against me. I move my fingers back to the base of her neck, working them across the tops of her shoulders to where they meet her arms, alternating soft strokes with light squeezes. Finally, she's starting to loosen up.

"I guess I am a little jealous," she says to me.

"Of what?" I ask. "My quiet flatulence or my magic fingers?"

"Your bruises," she says. "Don't get me wrong, I think Fiyero is empty-headed and arrogant. But it must be nice to be wanted in that way."

"It wasn't that good," I say. "He all but chewed on me. It's a difficult balance, sometimes with boys, when they don't really know what they're doing. You want to guide them, but you can't do it too much without crisping their fragile little egos."

"Sounds… difficult," she says. "I don't think I could handle it anyway, having to deal with another person and their emotions. I can barely deal with yours ."

"Says the moodiest girl in all of Oz," I reply. "If you wanted, though, I'm sure we could find you a boyfriend. With the right bra and everything…" I make broad circles across her upper back, slowly increasing the pressure though the silk nightdress, coaxing her knotty muscles to relax under my hands.

"The right bra?" she asks.

"Well, we'll talk about that later. That and eating proper meals. Your curves need all the help they can get."

"Me with curves would be like me in pink ruffles. Rather ridiculous, really."

"As your fashion advisor, I haven't completely ruled out the pink ruffles yet," I joke. She doesn't even have a pithy response for that. She just sighs and stretches out her back as I rub under her shoulder blades, folding herself forward to give me more access. I roll my knuckles slowly down either side of her spine and across her lower back.

"I have my rag doll back!" I say triumphantly, embracing her again. "Nice and smooshy!"

"Smooshy?" Elphie slides away from me.

"Have I done something wrong?" I ask. Does smooshy have some sort of offensive meaning that I'm not aware of? I do that with words sometimes. Like when Shenshen asked if I liked her new haircut and I said "indefinitely." She didn't speak to me for days.

"Not at all, Galinda. I've just been thinking, you've been lavishing all this attention on me… So much giving with no receiving. That's not in your nature," she frowns. "Would you allow me to reciprocate? May I have the honor of making you… smooshy?"

"Oh Elphie, I thought you'd never ask!" I grin, sprawling out on her bed and making myself comfortable. I'm surprised when her hand settles lightly on the back of my head, delicately lifting and stroking my hair.

"It's really a lovely color," she says. "So different. There aren't many blondes in Munchkinland. And Oz, is it ever soft."

Her hand moves down, then, gliding over the back of my neck and across my shoulders with only the faintest of pressure.

"Mmm, a bit harder?" I ask.

"But you bruise so easily!" she says. There will be repercussions for that remark, when I am not feeling so smooshy…

I wake up in the dark to the feeling of something warm beside me and look around, confused. Elphie is in my bed. No, I'm in hers. I must have drifted off to sleep here and she didn't have the heart to kick me out. She also didn't have the common sense to take my bed. Either that, or it was beneath her dignitary to sleep on pink sheets. She is curled into a little ball as is customary for her, facing away from me. I sit up, ready to return to those soft pink sheets when she thrashes in her sleep.

"Mother," she whimpers softly.

Oh no, not this. I crawl back under the covers and stroke her hair.

"Silly girl, we've been over this," I whisper. "It's not your fault. Please, let it go." She groans and I loop my arm over her waist. "Let it go," I whisper again, curling myself around her. Finally, she seems to settle. I guess I'm staying here tonight. I feel the gentle rise and fall of her breath under my arm. She feels so terribly, painfully small.

Carefully, as not to wake her, I run my fingers along her ribs. I could count them by touch. The seed of a worry plants itself in my brain and starts to grow as I lay, sleepless.

She was already gone when I woke, which is a fairly common occurrence. Still, I was depreviated of the amusement I would have gotten from rolling over and asking, "Was it good for you?" Elphie would have turned so green; I adore the way she blushes, just as I adore her laugh. I will not give Fiyero the satisfaction of knowing that we shared a bed. I would never hear the end of it! I giggle. Oh, I'm feeling so much better about Fiyero. I'm really just feeling so much better!

My classes don't start until the afternoon today. I was able to take a long, leisurely shower before making myself up and slipping into the green dress I never thought I'd wear again. It's my boyfriend's favorite color, after all, and who am I to deny him? I don matching green heels with cream-colored stockings and an emerald necklace. I am green and crisp as an apple, and at the thought of apples, I'm ready for breakfast, so I make my way to the café.

My second-favorite Thropp is there, not that I particularly favor Nessarose but I don't really know any other Thropps, and I get the impression that their father is quite horrendulous. She's sitting alone in her chair, eating some sort of sandwich, eyes fixed on an open book sitting on the table. Maybe the sisters have more in common than they'd care to admit. It's eggs and bacon for me today, apple-smoked bacon. Once I've secured my breakfast, I decide to give Nessa some company. Maybe I can voice some of my concerns about Elphie to her.

"Good morning, Miss Nessa," I say, setting my tray down beside hers. She looks up at me and smiles gratitutionally; that kind of irks me about her. She's been so Ozdamned gratitutional since I set her up with Biq. I'm sure as soon as she opens her mouth, she'll launch into a speech about her full gratitutionality, and I like praise well enough, but she gets boring rather quickly.

"Good morning, Miss Galinda!" she chirps cheerily. "Do have a seat! I know I've told you this before, but I have so much gratitude for what you did at the Ozdust. Boq is wonderful!" You know, for as happy she is to be courted by him, you'd think she could at least get poor Biq's name right! "We took a stroll around campus last night under the stars, it was so romantic. Only, I couldn't help but feel like he wasn't totally present, if you know what I mean. He's kind, but distant… I adore him so much. Oh, Galinda, perhaps I need to be made over just as you've made over my sister. Perhaps then, my darling Munchkin boy will have eyes for me!"

"Nessa," I say, folding my hand over hers, "you are nowhere near the fashion disaster that Elphie was a week ago. I think you worry your pretty little head too much. Biq will come around, it just takes time for some boys to open up. They're scared of commitment, you know?" Good deed for the day, done. I've reached my quota.

She nods and smiles sweetly. "Of course, I didn't think of that! Perhaps I need to stop talking so much to him about our future… Only, I'm so excited. What will we name the children?" Oz, she has it worse than I have it for Fiyero. I think I am going to be a little sick. I take back what I thought about her and Elphie having things in common. Even when she was still tormenting me, Elphie wasn't nearly as tiresome.

"Speaking of your sister, though, Nessa, I wanted to talk to you about her," I say, shifting the focus away from wuvvable wittle Munchkins.

"Oh no," Nessa gulps, her smile fading, "has she gone and done something horrid? You know, you'd think she'd be more grateful, after everything you've done for her…" Grateful. Does she know any other words?

"No, Nessa, she hasn't. It's just that I'm concerned for her. I really don't know how to ask this but…" I'm suddenly feeling very awkward. Nessa pats my hand, encouraging me.

"Go on," she says. She has her sister's eyes, large and dark, framed with the thickest of lashes. They're comforting to look in. I take a deep breath and start again.

"Before Elphie and I became friends, I can't say I paid much attention to her habits," I say, "But now I'm noticing things. Things like she doesn't eat very much. She never comes down here for meals and I've concluded that she's been living on a stash of canned fish and crackers that she keeps in her closet."

"That would be Elphaba," Nessa chuckles. "I apologize, I know the fish smells awful. She loves it though. I never understood…" I stop her before she can say how grateful she is that she doesn't have to smell it anymore.

"But I think her stores are wearing thin and she hasn't replenished them. Nessa, I've heard about girls that starve themselves on purpose because they think they're bigger than they are. I don't think Elphie thinks she's big, but she definitely has some self-image problems, being with her skin and all, and I'm wondering if her not eating has something to do with that. I'm

wondering if she's trying, in a way, to disappear. Oh, Nessa, do you think Elphie has anorestsia?" I frown.

"Anorexia?" she asks me. I nod.

"Yeah, that."

"No, Galinda, she's not anorexic. It's really not as complicated as all of that. She's just stupid," Nessa says. After all her syrupy sweetness, I'm taken aback by the harshness of her words. "You see, when we came to Shiz, father gave us each an allowance. Elphaba was given enough to feed and clothe herself, but little more. Instead of using that allowance to feed and clothe herself, she has been using it to buy books. I'm sure you've noticed that little collection on her shelf expanding while the rest of her shrinks."

Oh no. Of course. That's just like her. My roommate isn't stupid… She's just thick. And neglected. Definitely neglected.

"And your allowance?" I ask Nessa before I think the better of it.

"Mine is a bit more substantial, but that's because father knows I can be trusted to be responsible," she says curtly.

"And a university student with an intelligent and intellectually curious nature buying books for herself is irresponsible?" I ask, feeling the anger rise in my cheeks.

"Those books aren't required for her classes… Her textbooks were already taken care of."

"And Miss Nessarose, you don't feel compelled in the slightest to help out your sister?" I ask, rising out of my seat. I can't be here anymore. I need to leave, or I'm going to lose my temper completely. I hate Nessa. I hate the Governor.

"Galinda, I know you care about her…" Nessa says, pleading with me. "Please don't think I don't. I've tried to talk sense in her, tell her that wasting away is unbecoming, and she just says, well, so is being green. I would give her some of my allowance, but I'd only be encouraging her bad behavior… Please don't encourage it either. It's a hard lesson, but she needs to learn it for herself."

I turn to look at her for just a second, to show her just how disgusted I am, and walk away. The only bad behavior I won't be encouraging is the consummation of smelly fish! I march straight to the counter and buy the biggest blueberry muffin I can find, then stalk back to the table where Nessa sits, looking positively stunned.

"Do you see this muffin?" I ask, waving it in her face. "This muffin is for your dear sister. My roommate. My friend. This muffin represents all the love she's been denied by you and your disgusting father, and she'll eat it if I have to force it down her throat." Okay, temper officially lost. " Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to reward bad behavior!" With a final swipe of the muffin in front of Nessa's eyes, I turn around to leave.

"Miss Galinda," she calls softly behind me, "I hope this doesn't change things between us. I don't really appreciate what you said about my father, but I am ever-so-grateful..."

Next up: Galinda continues to put her magic fingers to good use… It's not as dirty as it sounds!