A/N: Brace yourselves for a deluge of line breaks! I tried my best to negotiate around them, but the chapter itself is a little jumpy in terms of its POVs and for safe-over-sorry purposes I thought it would be better to include them than not to.

Pfannee executed her attack in phases, beginning on the day that classes resumed. Armed with the most succulent rumour she'd heard since the one about Morrible's butt implants, she infected as many pockets of the school as she could and watched realization roll through Elphaba like a shiver when the hush that accompanied her entrance in history class carried over into life science. And then into Munchkin literature. And philosophy. In the library, at meals, down corridors – within days it got so that you could hear Elphaba coming, as though she was wearing bells. Only, it was silence that marked her.

From a safe distance, careful to be accountable but not too accountable, Pfannee relished the success of her efforts. But it wasn't until Day Four, as Elphaba broke out of the crowd and detoured into a restroom, that the perfect opportunity for the final phase arose. Pfannee exchanged a look with Milla and they followed her in.

Poised in front of the mirror, they whipped out tubes of lip gloss and leaned forward to reapply to lips that didn't need it. Milla's voice resounded unnaturally loud through her puckered mouth. "Hey Pfannee, do you know when Melena Thropp dropped out of university?" she asked.

"No, I don't," Pfannee said, winking to acknowledge her companion's acknowledgement of the game. She could practically feel Elphaba cringing. "When?"

"When she completed her research project."

"On what?"

"The minimum amount of time it takes to sleep with every male on campus."

The cringing would be evolving into the tightness of full-on indignation, perhaps a little glowing in the cheeks – even more gratifying. Seizing control of the thread, Pfannee tugged and brought it home. "That sounds fascinating, Milla," she said, "but times have changed. Someone should test her theories in a modern setting."

"You're right!" Milla exclaimed. "And wouldn't it be fitting for Elphaba to inherit the task? She ought to begin collecting her data."

"Oh, didn't you hear? She already has." Pfannee fought to retain her nonchalance, but couldn't manage and gave herself over to the giggles that wracked her shoulders. "She's working from furthest out of her league to…well, she doesn't really have a league does she?"

The loss of composure was contagious and Milla laughed too. "Huh, you know what I think?" she said. "I think: good for her. She's carrying on the family tradition."

Pfannee's mouth fell into an O and her eyes twinkled, communicating her admiration for the deft remark. She sheathed her lip gloss and nodded at Milla, indicating that it was on that well-struck note that they should depart. They skipped out of the restroom one after the other, each tossing a final glance at the shuffling boots beneath the door of the last stall.

It was that same pair of boots that bore Elphaba to her philosophy class, then to the back of the room after the lecture, where she cornered Fiyero. "Who did you tell?" she demanded, still seething, hearing every one of Pfannee and Milla's comments on a loop in the back of her mind.

He looked up from his phone, annoyed at the disruption and further annoyed by the identity of the disrupter. "Oh, so you're talking to me now?" he asked. "Well, that's too bad. Because I recently decided that I'm not talking to you."

"I could've sworn this was our second year of university," Elphaba said angrily, lips curling, "but it seems it's our second year of grade school. Except for the fact that you're telling everyone I slept with you. I don't think I've met a second-grader that childish."

"I haven't told anyone, okay?" he said, nudging his phone into his jeans and making as if to leave. "It wasn't me."

"Hopefully you haven't neglected to mention any of the romantic details. You know…the drunkenness, the ten minutes it took you to locate the condom that you were literally holding, your suave exit…"

"It wasn't me."

"Really? Then who was it? The books?" The anger that had been festering in her for hours erupted all at once and she didn't care who was engulfed by it. "You don't get it, do you? Everyone's been giving me these…these looks. The way they used to. And no one's speaking to me – not even Galinda! But you; you're the hero of Shiz for throwing that party, which, by the way, you didn't have a hand in planning, because you were too busy eating my family's food and kissing up to my parents! I'm the social pariah! As usual! So who did you tell?"

"Omigod! I told you! I didn't tell—"

She glared at him.

"Galinda," he conceded. "And maybe Avaric."

Groaning, Elphaba stomped out of the classroom, internalizing the victory over him as a defeat and somehow feeling worse than when she had entered.

Galinda did her best to avoid Elphaba for the better part of the week. She knew she would have to face her friend, knew it was her obligation, but she didn't want to attempt it until she had framed her approach in a way that was as gentle as it was neutral. That said, the rush of remorse triggered by a text from Fiyero – I fucked up again, talk to Elphaba – was enough to topple her flimsy tower of resolve and persuade her that it was time to reassure Elphaba that they would weather every sidelong look and suppressed snicker together. More or less.

She was waiting in their dorm, fingering the frilly edge of her duvet, when Elphaba returned from the dining hall. Having rehearsed her opening lines, she parted her lips to launch into them, but met Elphaba's eyes and understood that words couldn't atone for her neglect. "Elphie…" she said, derailed.

"Don't even start, Galinda."

"They're saying terrible things about you."

"Are they?" Elphaba let out a self-deprecating ha and when she continued it sounded like she was blaming Galinda, though she wasn't. "Your friends are saying terrible things about me. About my whole family."

"You know it's not true, Elphie, so it doesn't matter," Galinda said, audibly hurt. "It doesn't matter what they say."

"I don't care, Galinda, I really don't. It doesn't bother me."

In one fluid movement, Galinda jumped up, too agitated to sit still. "But you do! Give me some credit! I can at least tell when you're upset!"

"I'm not upset…not because…" Elphaba was silent for a moment, pulling at her hair. Her eyes darted from her lap to her friend and then back down as she decided to drop the barrier. If she couldn't consult Galinda, then who else was there? No one. There's no one. "I was naked, Galinda. He saw all of me. Is that why…did he say…did he start this? Is he repulsed?"

"No, Elphie, of course not!" Galinda cried, softening almost to tears. "He's just…Fiyero's a boy. You have to understand that. His brain capacity – I don't even need to tell you. He's mad at you because he thinks you're mad at him. That's why he's being like this. That's why this is happening. It's all just…miscommunication."

"So your first time was this humiliating?"

Galinda bit her lip. "I haven't had a first time. I've told you that," she said, made timid by the reiteration. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I've gone far with a lot of guys…but never, you know, that far."

"In other words, I'm a slut."

"That's not what I said! Not at all!" Galinda took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. "I'm just saying that Fiyero is a huge player and I assumed you knew that."

"So I'm just stupid. What a relief."

"Elphie—"

"Did you know that? When you were dating him?"

Galinda nodded tentatively.

"I am stupid," Elphaba concluded, yanking at her hair full-force. She turned her head away and dropped her voice. "I believed him, Galinda. The things he told me, I believed them. And I believed you. And I believed my mom. I believed everybody but myself."

"Elphie, I don't…" Then, while she was articulating her non-articulable position, the idea hit Galinda so fast that she nearly stumbled over. "That's it! You should call your mom! She'll know what to say. She always does. She's like…my idol."

Meanwhile, in the residence building across the way, Avaric sawed at a desk with the plastic knife he had nicked from his dinner plate. "How long do you think it'll take me to cut this thing in half?" he asked.

Fiyero ignored him and kept on pacing the length of the room. It was a difficult task, considering the mountains of junk that had somehow accumulated in the eight days that had passed since their return. He was continually ensnared by unravelled electrical cords, freeing himself only to falter on precariously discarded cans and stray shoes.

"Dude!"

Avaric aimed a pillow at the back of his friend's head, startling him, and Fiyero threw up his hands as if under arrest. "What? What did I do?"

"You tell me." Avaric wiggled his reddish eyebrows suggestively and Fiyero experienced one of his increasingly frequent this is really my best friend shudders. "I still haven't gotten any of the details I was promised."

"I did not promise you—"

"What was it like?" Avaric persisted. "What did it look like?"

Fiyero sighed. "She's a girl, Av, she looks like a girl."

"Except green."

"Except green," he agreed, reflecting. He dropped onto his bed. "Do you think I did it too fast?"

Avaric folded one leg across the other, ankle resting on knee, and grabbed a forgotten textbook as if preparing to take notes. "Tell me about your problems, sir," he insisted. "I assure you, I am highly qualified. I nearly passed Psych 100 last year."

The lofty achievement was lost on the bewildered Vinkun. "You know how it works," he said blankly. "It happens, you both forget about it, and no one cares – right?"

"Every time."

Fiyero ran a hand through his hair. "But what if it didn't work this time?"

"You mean there's a girl at this school who's different?" Avaric laughed and laughed and laughed. "Have you considered a career as a comedian, Princey?"

Eyes widening, Fiyero stared at Avaric, enveloped by the memory of the endearing way that Nanny had called him the very same thing back in Munchkinland. And Shell had called him bro so often that it had begun to feel like the name on his birth certificate. And Elphaba had seemed happy, in that reluctant, world-weary way of hers. "It's like…" he started, fumbling. "I know she's not forgetting about it and that's bothering me, so I can't forget about it either."

"Are you telling me you have feelings for Elphie?"

"Feelings?" Fiyero threw Avaric a confused look. "What are feelings?"

"And whereabouts are these feelings?" Avaric continued, heedless. "In your brain…your heart…your pants?" Shoving Avaric off his chair, Fiyero tried to tackle him to the ground, but Avaric leapt back and caught him in a headlock. "If you want to take this to the next level, you better call me after. Who do you think I am? Elphie's mom?"

Relinquishing Avaric, Fiyero sprung away as if scalded. "What did you just say?"

"So get this…" Avaric rubbed his hands together, inciting another shudder. "According to Pfannee, Elphie's mom was…how shall I put this delicately? Down to clown. With everybody. Back in the day, that is, or maybe today too. You would know." Then his jaw dropped. "YOU ASSHOLE, YOU WERE IN THE SAME HOUSE AS THE MILF OF ALL MILFS AND YOU WENT FOR ELPHIE?"

Fiyero gaped at Avaric again, torn between allegiances, until Avaric was compelled to say, "Look, I know it's upsetting that you missed out, but you're creeping me out with that face. I can't tell whether you want to punch me or cry…so like…"

"She's not like that!" Fiyero mustered, recovering his voice, but maintaining his revulsion. "If you're going to believe…well, don't. Just don't. It's not like that at all. Not with Elphaba, not with her mom."

Avaric shrugged. "Might as well go along with it," he said. "There's nothing else we can do."

"That's not right." Fiyero shook his head, still reminiscing. "We're bigger whores than they are."

"Huh. Speak for yourself."

"But we are!" he protested, not prepared to let it go. "We're nineteen. We're horny. Elphaba's not the first girl who's lost her virginity. I'm willing to bet she's one of the last ones, actually."

"You're lucky you're attractive, man, because if you miss every point the way you're missing this one there's really no chance of you graduating," Avaric said, jeering. "She's the only green one. That's why they're hounding her." He punched Fiyero's shoulder. "And it's all on you, you sick bastard."

Elphaba propped herself up against the wall, trying to will the class ahead of them to a finish by staring at the doors of the lecture hall. She was keenly aware of the crowd's focus on her, registering every gaze where it was directed – her eyes, her cheeks, her fingers, her feet – so that the scrutiny spanned her entire body and gave her goosebumps everywhere. Not surprisingly, it was Pfannee goading them on.

"Elphaba!" she called. "We were just wondering about your sister!"

Tensing instantly, Elphaba braced herself for the insinuations to come. She could understand the innate aversion to Melena and the ease of targeting herself, but she didn't know what they could possibly have against Nessa. Either way, she wasn't above resorting to violence.

Milla took up where Pfannee left off. "Galinda tells us she'll be starting university soon. When do we get to meet her?"

"You're not going to meet her. Ever. I'll make sure of it," Elphaba informed them, noticing how Galinda shrank a few inches so that Pfannee was shielding her.

"That's the crippled one?" Shenshen asked Milla. "The pretty one?"

"It's a shame," Pfannee supplied, locking eyes with Elphaba, challenging her. "Does your mom know anything about pregnancy? God, how stupid is she that she didn't learn from the first time?"

"Why don't you leave my family out of this?" Elphaba said. "I'm the one you should pick on. I slept with Fiyero." The crowd gasped and she whirled around, trying to lump them all in under the same scowl. "As if you didn't know that! Someone decided to tell everyone!"

Pfannee stepped aside, exposing Galinda.

"It wasn't me!" Galinda exclaimed, ever fearful of favouring one side. "Fiyero told Avaric and then Avaric told everyone! Leave me out of your argument!"

"You say that as if I've had a part in starting this!" Elphaba cried, betrayed.

Repositioning herself in Galinda's line of vision to sever the mutual distress that linked the two friends, Pfannee placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Galinda, sweetheart, it's okay. We all know you were looking for an excuse to drop her anyway."

"I don't see you tormenting Fiyero," Elphaba pointed out furiously, rounding on the bystanders again. "Is no one else bothered by the double standard? Even if it was a big deal, why is no one even remotely ashamed?"

"But if it wasn't a big deal, why did you do it?" Pfannee asked. "Were you in love with him?"

Elphaba gaped. She felt her insides twist. "I'm—"

"ELPHABA THROPP, SEE ME IN MY OFFICE!"

The rumble of concurrent murmurings ceased as Morrible's voice sliced through it. Elphaba swivelled in time to see the headshiztress retreating through the throng of people, like a queen amidst her subjects, and she followed grudgingly, having had no opportunity to contrive an explanation for herself. Pfannee, Milla and Shenshen giggled as she passed, wiggling their fingers to bid her farewell, and Galinda pushed past them.

"Wait, Elphie, I'll come with you!" she said.

Elphaba's brow furrowed. "Don't," she told her. "Don't waste your time."

Once she was seated in Morrible's office – not for the first time and probably not for the last – she reclined in her chair and waited for the headshiztress to dispatch her secretary with an over-complicated coffee order. She almost wished she could say she was surprised that not even Morrible was on her side. But I'm not, she thought, not at all.

"I would never have expected such irrational behaviour from one of my most promising students!" Morrible said, oozing false disdain as she eased the door closed and plopped her ample backside into the opposite chair.

"Do you mean from Fiyero, Avaric, Galinda, Pfannee, Milla or Shenshen?" Elphaba asked. On any other day she would have been loath to deliberately mouth off, but today anger had tampered with her common sense and she couldn't bring herself to find anyone intimidating.

Morrible's mouth was set in a line. "According to Professor Nikidik, it was none other than you making a scene outside of his classroom. And, it pains me to say, it comes as no shock to me. As the head of this institution, I often hear certain…certain whispers. Lately they've all had to do with you."

"But surely you're going to speak to those that I mentioned – those who began the certain whispers."

"Miss Thropp, I took you for someone who was above whispers."

"I took you for the same," Elphaba rejoined, looking Morrible full in the face. "Evidently we're learning a lot about each other today."

Morrible didn't seem fazed by the insolence, but inured; maybe even a little appreciative. "Shiz University prides itself on its prestige," she said, adopting her remonstrative tone anyway. "It is, as you know, our nation's highest-ranked school in terms of…well, everything. And, as such, it is above scandal. Now – goodness, Miss Thropp, I can see the sarcasm welling within you – I'm not implying that the details of your personal life are of any consequence to the school. I'm merely illustrating my point. How can the collective uphold its reputation if the individuals do not?"

"Madame, are you really blaming me for the rumours people are spreading about me?"

"I'm blaming you for dignifying them with your reactions. I expect better of you."

"Better," Elphaba repeated in disbelief. Then she added, more sharply, "May I be excused?"

Morrible shook her head, just barely. "While I have you here, I may as well take up the matter I've been meaning to discuss with you." She folded her fleshy hands together and rested her elbows on the desk, leaning forward. "It has been brought to my attention that you haven't declared your major yet. Have you any thoughts? Any inclinations?"

"Not yet, Madame. Hence the lack of declaration," Elphaba said shortly. "Please, may I be excused?"

This time Morrible nodded, but then indicated that something else had occurred to her, so Elphaba waited.

"You've shown great promise, Miss Thropp," the head said. "Stay focused. I have every reason to believe that you will one day achieve extraordinary things. Your mother, in her time here, may have done the same had she not refused to try." Morrible shook her head grimly. "There's nothing I find quite as tragic as wasted potential."

"I think that's an unfair assessment, Madame," Elphaba said at length. "I think you're pinning my mother's mistakes on me."

"Not at all, my dear, not at all," Morrible said, too jovially. "Though it's always worth noting that our family determines much of who we are. And who we become."

"Yo."

Elphaba pulled her phone away from her ear so she could roll her eyes at it. "Shell, I need to speak to Mom."

There was a brief pause, a few yells back and forth between himself and a painful impersonation of Melena – well, at least he's given up on humming elevator music, Elphaba thought – and then Shell returned to the conversation. "Mrs. Thropp appears to be out at the moment. Can I take a message? There's an additional charge for messages that exceed one hundred words. Don't say I didn't warn you."

"And how are you going to count out a hundred words? You can't count past ten," Nessa said, as the other line clicked. "Get off. I need to talk to Elphaba."

"Anything you can say in front of Elphaba, you can say in front of me."

"Say, Elphaba, you know how we talked about how much blood is too much when you're—"

"I'm gone."

Nessa chuckled. "He makes it so easy. So, so easy."

A wave of exhaustion pummeled Elphaba. Shell's petulance, Nessa's ruses, Melena's never being around when needed – it was all customary, but she didn't have the energy to keep up with it. "Nessa, now really isn't a good time for me."

"I just need a sec, really," Nessa assured her. "I'm filling out my application and it's asking me to choose a college, but I can't remember which one you're in. Was it Crage Hall? I'm, like, eighty-four percent sure of it."

Elphaba's grip tightened. We were just wondering about your sister, she heard in that cloying drawl. "Nessa, scrap the application," she said.

"What? Why?"

"There's a Munchkinland U campus in Rush Margins, isn't there? Apply there."

"The whole point of applying to Shiz was so I could be with you!" Nessa said, sounding confused and nearly hysterical. "How could you even suggest…is this a joke? Elphaba, you know how nervous I am."

With schemes aligning in her mind, prompted by an impulsive hatred for Shiz in its entirety – head to student body – and a rush of affection for Nessa, Elphaba decided, "Apply there. I'll apply too. We'll go together."

"What do you mean? You're leaving Shiz? Is everything alright?"

"Tell Mom I called, please and thank you."

Elphaba hung up before she could be questioned any further. She crawled into bed, expecting to pass out as soon as head met pillow, but she didn't. Instead she lay awake, staring into nothing, and feigned sleep when Galinda turned in for the night.

It occurred to her, belatedly, that she missed her family.

And then it occurred to her that Melena had been right: having friends and losing them was a lot worse than not having had them in the first place.