Elphaba spent Lurlinamas Break alone again, wandering Shiz' frosted brick paths, eating at Deki's, and vanishing into the tunnel for long hours; she found the weeks interminably long and lonely without the Charmed Circle.
"You've gone soft, Elphaba Thropp," she told herself one day, "it's pitiful."
Galinda was less inclined to enjoy the thrills and frills of Lurlinamas at home. She looked with new eyes at the extravagance and, while it was excitifying to disguise the house in Lurlinamas decorations and flirt with Society boys, she missed the blunt honesty of her roommate and the laughter of the Charmed Circle.
"Something's happened to you, Galinda Upland," she told herself one day, "and there's no going back. Face it: you're growing up."
Fiyero was miserable. He was caught in the loneliness of evenings when the Charmed Circle would have begun their night and his parents ended theirs. Fiyero missed Elphaba and Galinda, missed conducting strange experiments with Dr. Dillamond and Elphaba, missed whirling his girls in a complicated dance and hearing Elphaba laugh. It came down to missing Elphaba, though he refused to admit it, even to himself.
"You've gotten deep," he told himself one day, "it's horrificifying. You'd better keep it a secret or they'll laugh you out of existence."
"We're over halfway through our second year!" Galinda exclaimed three weeks before spring break, "what are we going to do?"
"We're going to die of grief because we'll never see each other again." Elphaba said.
"Come on, Elphie," Crope commented.
"We're too young to die," Tibbett added.
Fiyero wrapped one arm around Elphaba's shoulders, the other around Galinda's waist. "We're immortal," he half-whispered, "and invincible—so life after Shiz isn't worth worrying over."
Secretly, Fiyero was worrying about life after Shiz, about Glinda and Elphaba and all the wonderful memories he would leave. Life after Shiz would never be the same. On the outside, he remained brainless and fun loving, as he had always been. It was better. Later, he was thankful for all his practice playing the brainless prince; his ability to play that role saved both Fiyero and the woman he loved.
"We should be more certain of ourselves, know what we want. Life is short." Nessa reprimanded after a moment. Her eyes were on Boq, who was gazing at Galinda in Fiyero's casual embrace. "Really—all of you, you're just dancing through life."
"And you aren't? Admit it, sweetheart," Avaric teased, kissing Nessa's cheek to make her blush, "you're hanging with us so you're like us."
"I am not!" Nessa cried, "Boq, tell them I'm not!"
Boq rolled his eyes at Avaric, "Sadly, Nessa's right," he said, "she isn't like you. She's probably going to govern Munchkinland, unless Elphaba kicks her out—"
"Why in Oz would I do that?" Elphaba retorted. She leaned back against Fiyero's arm, and Fiyero drew her closer. "News flash: I don't want Munchkinland. It's all yours, little sister o' mine."
"Thank you," Nessa replied sweetly. She seemed almost serious—but then, she always seemed almost serious, even when she was joking.
The weak winter sun was strengthening, there had not been a frost in days, and the brownish grass of Shiz lawns was greenifying.
"Look, Elphie!" Galinda exclaimed one day, "the grass is trying to look like you."
"Or it's trying not to look like Tibbett's hair," Elphaba suggested.
"Must you always look at things in negatives?" Galinda asked, "Maybe the grass is trying to look like you because you are beautifuller than Tibbett's hair."
"More beautiful," Elphaba corrected, "and I'm not. I'm also going to be late for class."
Elphaba skidded to a stop outside Dr. Dillamond's door and flashed Fiyero a grin.
"Almost late?" she asked.
Fiyero nodded. "You've been Galindafied again," he commented, "You don't have to do that, you know."
Elphaba smiled.
"Class! Take your seats!" Dr. Dillamond ordered, "I have something to say and very little time to say it. My dear students, this is my last day here at Shiz. Animals are no longer permitted to teach."
"What?" Elphaba exclaimed. Fiyero snatched her hand and squeezed it. He told himself it was to reassure both of them. Glancing around, he saw varying shades of shock painted across students' faces. True, Animal oppression had grown during their college years, but none of them had seen this coming.
"Please—Miss Elphaba," Dr. Dillamond continued, "I want to thank you all for sharing with me your, uh, your enthusiasm, your essays—however few—and even, on occasion your lunch."
Madame Morrible waltzed in, followed by three men in menacing jackets.
"Professor, I am truly sorry," the Headmistress gushed.
Elphaba freed her fingers from Fiyero's and stood.
"Madame, you cannot permit this!" Elphaba shouted.
Morrible patted Elphaba's arm and smiled at the outspoken green girl. Fiyero frowned.
"Miss Elphaba, don't worry about me," Dr. Dillamond said, "they can take away my job, but I will continue speaking out."
"Come on, old Goat," a black-coated guard sneered; he and a companion grabbed Dr. Dillamond's arms and dragged him away.
"You are not being told the whole story! Remember that!" Dillamond shouted as the classroom door slammed—erasing an era of Shiz, when Animals were respected professors and ushering in an era of human domination.
"Are we all just going to sit here in silence?" Elphaba yelled.
"Miss Elphaba—I'm afraid there is nothing we can do," Morrible consoled, patting Elphaba's arm again.
"But Madame!"
"Please, my dear, take a seat."
One of the intimidating men had remained when Dr. Dillamond was dragged away. He unlocked Dr. Dillamond's storeroom and retrieved an awkward object.
"Hello students!" he began "With each tick of the Time Dragon Clock—in every corner of our great Oz—one hears the silence of progress."
Students smiled and nodded. Elphaba glared. The professor jerked a sheet off the object he'd retrieved, revealing a Lion cub confined behind bars. Fiyero's breath hissed out; in the Vinkus, he had known Lions—dignified, graceful, beautiful creatures. He closed his eyes and reached for Elphaba's hand.
The professor continued: "This is called a cage. You will be seeing more and more of these in the future. This remarkable innovation is actually for the Animals' own good—"
"If it's so good for him, why is he trembling?" Elphaba asked. Fiyero tightened his fingers around hers, a reassurance and a warning.
"He's excited to be here, that's all. Now! As I was saying, one of the benefits of caging a Lion cub this young is that he will never, in fact, learn how to speak."
Elphaba stood and yanked Fiyero to his feet.
"Someone has to do something!" she shouted.
The lanterns flickered out. Fiyero, had he not known better, would have sworn he felt a storm in the air. There was precious little light to see by—a green glow emanated from Elphaba and the sun shown dimly through the window shades—but Fiyero noticed the other students moving rhythmically to unheard music. Only Elphaba was as still as he was.
"What's happening?" Fiyero hissed.
"I don't know!" Elphaba answered "I got mad, and . . ." she shrugged.
"Just—don't move! And don't get mad at me."
Fiyero snatched the cage and its covering, suppressing a shudder at the sight of his fellow students dancing an eerie, half-crazed dance to a rhythm Elphaba had set.
"Come on! Come with me!" he ordered Elphaba. She followed. Fiyero hoped getting Elphaba—and the Lion cub—away would release the dancers.
Together, Elphaba and Fiyero dashed through the halls. On a normal day, they might have run to find the Charmed Circle or Galinda. They would have laughed and teased. Today they were silent and tense, serenaded by the mewing Lion cub. Finally, they reached a small grove of trees near the river.
"Careful! Don't shake him!" Elphaba admonished.
"I'm not," Fiyero retorted, but he wrapped his arms more securely around the cage.
"We can't just let him loose anywhere, you know," Elphaba continued, "we've got to find some place safe!"
"I realize that! You—you think I'm really stupid, don't you?" Fiyero asked. Lurline, he thought, let her disagree. For some reason, her opinion mattered.
"No," she said "not really stupid."
"Why is it that every time you speak you're causing some kind of commotion?" Fiyero, and instantly regretted it as hurt flitted across Elphaba's face.
"I don't cause commotions," she snapped, her voice as bitter as black coffee, "I am one."
"Well—that's for sure," Fiyero stuttered.
"Oh, so you think I should just keep my mouth shut; is that what you're saying?"
"No! What I'm saying is just—" he tried.
"Do you think I want to be this way? Do you think I want to care this much?"
Elphaba whirled so Fiyero would not see her tears, but he heard her sniffle and understood. Fiyero felt shame that nothing he said was ever enough for Elphaba; she was beautiful, lonely, and—his realization washed over him like a warm wave: he loved Elphaba.
"Look, all I wante—"
"Do you ever think how much easier life would be if I didn—"
"Do you ever let anyone else talk?"
"Oh . . . sorry."
Fiyero grinned. Maybe Elphaba would give him a chance to explain himself, or even a chance to reveal his recent realization.
"Look, I just wanted—" he began.
"But can I just say one more thing?" she begged.
Fiyero was angry and wanted to talk but he could not resist the look on Elphaba's face. He looked at the treetops but her pleading eyes had burned themselves into his memory. Finally, he nodded.
"You could have walked away back there," Elphaba whispered.
"Yeah, so?" Fiyero asked.
"So, no matter how shallow and self-absorbed you pretend to be—"
"Excuse me?" he arched his eyebrows "there is no pretense here! I happen to be genuinely self-absorbed and deeply shallow."
"No, you're not," Elphaba said "or you wouldn't be so unhappy."
Fiyero stared, openmouthed. He wondered how she could have seen through—through everything.
"Fine," he retorted, "if you don't want my help . . ."
Fiyero started to walk away—something he would later consider among his bravest deeds. He realized, in that moment, that it would have been simple to walk away from Galinda; it frightened him. Galinda was his girlfriend and Fiyero felt like all the bottled emotions he could not express toward Elphaba should have belonged to Galinda. His heart, however, had a mind of its own: it belonged to Elphaba and it refused to let him redirect its affections. It loved Elphaba, not Galinda.
"No! I do, I do!" Elphaba exclaimed.
She snatched Fiyero's hand and he almost melted. He twined his fingers around hers in a way he never had before; earlier, when he had touched her, it had been the touch of friendship. This was the touch of love and Elphaba felt the difference. She jerked away and knelt by the Lion's cage. Fiyero sighed.
"Oh, his heart is pounding," Elphaba whispered, but she really meant her heart was pounding. "I didn't mean to frighten him."
"Well, what did you mean to do?" Fiyero asked "and why was I the only one you didn't do it to?"
Elphaba looked down; how could she explain her out-of-control magic? Fiyero had missed her Orientation explosion and Madame Morrible had taught her to manage herself—mostly—since then. Fiyero would think she was a freak, that she was unworthy of friendship . . . Elphaba forced herself to glance at her handsome companion. She should have been stronger, should not have loved him.
"You're bleeding," Elphaba breathed, grateful for an excuse to avoid Fiyero's question.
"I am?" Fiyero asked.
"He must've scratched you."
"Yeah . . . or maybe he scratched me . . . or something," Fiyero answered.
Elphaba brushed her fingers along the cut, her magic jolting through them like lightning. Fiyero jerked away from her familiar touch, shame burning through him. Galinda could fondle him and he felt nothing, Elphaba's slightest touch sent a thousand contradictory emotions flitting through his heart.
"Um, I'd better get to safety," he muttered, "I mean, the Cub—"
"Of course!"
"—get the Cub to safety!"
Then, Fiyero was gone and the Cub with him. Elphaba sighed.
"Fiyero!" she shouted after him, wanting to apologize, explain, and kiss him. The green girl sank to the ground.
"I can't just go around kissing my best friend's boyfriend . . . so why do I always want to?" Elphaba asked the trees.
The trees were silent. Elphaba rolled her eyes.
"You are pathetic," Elphaba told herself "Look at you! You're not blonde or beautiful—you're green. That boy was born for rich jewels, palaces, and the prettiest girl. He chose Galinda within days of his arrival. He deserves a girl like her . . . and you, my darling, you are not that girl."