A/n: Okay, so. I'm offering up a HUGE apology to all of my readers and reviewers for not updating in, like, forever. What's that, three weeks? Ugh, I'm sorry. What happened to me, you ask? Well...in the words of The Fantasticks, life happened to me. Well, it wasn't quite that dramatic. A hectic summer, paired with serious writer's block...anyway.
Here's your next chapter, and I hope you like it. I'm really struggling with this story...I feel like it's dying, but I don't want it to!
.x.
Chapter 7
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By the early morning of the second day of Galinda's absence, I begin to feel very, very bored. Boredom has never been a familiar feeling for me—while growing up, books were my solace, and friends were scarce, so I never knew what it was like to be constantly entertained—but now, without that blonde, energetic ball of pink to keep me on my toes, I realize that she's influenced me rather strongly.
I sit for several moments, listening to the distant chirping of birds outside; twiddling my thumbs with unrest, and regretting (for once) that I've already finished all of this week's homework. Then, as if perfectly on cue, a knock sounds at my door.
Nessa, I think automatically. She visits quite often, usually with a dazed Boq in tow, who is beyond thrilled to stand in the room where Galinda sleeps every night. I cross the room, opening the door. Instead of my sister, however, I see a much taller person. Fiyero. He is looking at the ground; his hands shoved deep into his pockets.
"What are you doing here?" I ask bluntly, raising an eyebrow; resting my palm against the half-open door.
He shrugs, quickly looking behind him. "Can I come in?"
I let him in without a word, shutting the door behind him. He stares at the door like he wants me to bolt it, and then looks up at me with a grin. "Are you going to tell me why you're here?" I ask impatiently.
"You know, Elphaba, your hair actually looks quite nice when it's down," he says, pointing to me like he's never seen it before. That is when I realize that he probably hasn't—I wear it in a braid every day. I only decided today to start wearing it down occasionally; after all, Galinda complimented it.
I touch my hair cautiously, refusing to meet his eyes. After a moment, he walks over to my desk, looking around the room with interest. "So this is where the green girl sleeps," he declares, and I roll my eyes.
"You've been in here plenty of times before, Fiyero," I remind him, though we both know well enough that opposite-sex company in dorms isn't allowed. Though Nessa usually plays the wheelchair card to get Boq in, Fiyero has a sneaky way about him, which, on numerous occasions, has gotten him in, and right into the pink bed next to mine. I scowl unconsciously at the thought.
"Loved that book," he says nonchalantly, pointing to my torn and tattered copy of The Oziad, a book so large that I haven't even finished it.
I roll my eyes. "Stop trying to relate to me, and tell me why you're here!" He shoots me a beaten-down look, clutching his heart like I've broken it. "Dearest Elphaba, I just thought I'd drop by and see what you were doing! There's no class today, which leaves me with quite a bit of time on my—"
"No," I interrupt smoothly. "I am not doing anything interesting. So you may go, if that is all."
I still don't trust Fiyero; not in the least. After he made Galinda cry and go off on holiday. After he teased me endlessly about staring at her in class. After I found them on the very bed he's resting his feet on right now; kissing and touching—a reminder of what Galinda and I would never do. It would be impossible.
"You don't have to be so cold, you know!" Fiyero says, raising his voice. "Just because you're green, and think you're oppressed or whatever, doesn't give you the right to act like a total bitch toward everyone!"
I sit down, slightly shocked at his sudden outburst. "To tell you the truth, I came here because I have no one else to hang out with. Tibbett and Crope are always with Boq now, Avaric is with his girl of the week—I don't even know her name. And my girlfriend's suddenly left, on holiday, for no apparent reason."
I stifle the urge to remind him of the reason. Instead, I take a small amount of pity on him. "And that leaves me," I say with a raised eyebrow, though I adjust my tone to make it less harsh than before. "Your last resort."
Fiyero shakes his head. "Look. Oz knows there are a ton of girls who would give their right arm to be here right now. I mean, I've been with a lot of women—" he pauses. "A lot."
"Your point?" I hurry him along, not fazed by his 'impressive' track record.
"The point is that you're different, Elphaba. I realized that yesterday, in the library. Interesting. We can be friends, can't we? Oz knows you need some...and I do, too. Real ones, I mean."
I consider his proposition, thinking back to Galinda's tear-stained face that night. But, looking into Fiyero's earnest face, I find myself believing strongly that Galinda must have been overreacting about their fight—something that she tends to do quite often.
"Fine," I say, sinking down onto my bed with a resigned sigh, still not comfortable with all of this. "And what did you, friend, want to do?"
Ten minutes later, we are engaged in a game of Chess. There isn't any heated competition, though; not even like when Nessa and I play. I look at him, smirking at the serious bind he's gotten himself into.
He scratches his chin thoughtfully, scrunching up his face. Finally, after a few moments, he moves his pawn, leaving it directly in my knight's path. In a grand, sweeping gesture, I capture his pawn, depositing it in my growing pile of white pieces. He groans.
"So I'll admit...I may have been exaggerating a bit when I said I was a master Chess player."
I grin. "A bit?"
And the day goes on like that, with both of us engaging in mindless banter and light conversation. Sometime in between my capturing of his king and his eventual leaving, I realize that Fiyero isn't as bad as I thought he was. He's easy to just be around, without things getting complicated or awkward (like with Galinda). Not even one derogatory comment was made about my skin color, much to my surprise.
By the next day, I begin to wonder if Fiyero's sudden, tentative friendship is only meant to be known about by the two of us. But when I arrive to History class, on time, my hair back in its customary braid (I made sure of it, for reasons I can't name), Fiyero smiles at me from his usual seat in the fifth row. I sit in front of him, returning his awkward half-smile. "Are you ready for the lecture today?" He asks, loud enough for everyone to hear (even Pfannee and Shenshen, who practically gasp with surprise). I nod once, taking out a pen. "I'm ready."
And the rest of the week goes like that—Fiyero acting friendly toward me, and showing up at my dorm during the afternoons. I never question it; in truth, I'm grateful for the company. The rest of the week goes normally—until Saturday.
.x.
And don't worry, Gelphie shippers. Galinda will come back next(ish) chapter...and no, there isn't going to be Fiyeraba, you silly people. No worries.
