AN:
Gosh guys, I'm sorry I made you wait again, but yeah... Hope you'll find this sufficiently enjoyable to make up for it.
Happy reading! (=^_^=)
xoxo MLE
Chapter Twenty-Three
Glinda looked up from the letter to Tibbett, then read the letter once again.
"Why didn't you tell us that you were planning on studying again?" her flatmate asked.
She couldn't' quite discern whether he was angry or disappointed.
"Because I wasn't" she replied, shaking her head. Feeling a little dizzy, she grabbed the backrest of the sofa to steady herself. "I never applied for this scholarship. It was offered to me at the conference I told you about, but I never ended up contacting that woman."
"This doesn't make any sense," Tibbett scoffed.
Glinda cast him a fleeting glace in an effort to gauge whether he believed her or not. He was scowling, but whether it was at the mystery of the unexpected letter or her perceived lie, she couldn't tell.
"It doesn't make any sense whatsoever," she agreed with him. Restless, she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. If she hadn't felt so faint, she might have fled the room, but still clinging to sofa for support, she had nowhere to go. "You still believe me right?"
Tibbett pursed his lips for a moment, then shrugged.
"There really is no reason for you to invent any stories about this sort of thing, is there? If you really wanted to go to Gillikin to further your education—good on ya. I can't imagine you would have any cause to hide it from us?"
"Well, there are several good reasons not to go to Shiz," Glinda told him, "but you're right. If I had decided to go, you two would be the last people I would have hidden it from. I know that most of those reasons I have in mind do not concern you too much."
"Oh? Who did you plan on hiding it from then?" Tibbett challenged.
"No one," Glinda replied sharply, rolling her eyes. "I considered it for a few hours, then completely banished the notion from my head." She saw no need to mention Elphaba's crucial part in this decision making process. "Elphaba already knew about the proposal, so there wouldn't have been any hiding it from her. Let it suffice to say, she would have been the strongest opponent of the idea."
"Huh. I always thought she was so academically inclined? Why wouldn't she encourage you to go back to uni?"
She arched a brow at him, and he made a face of sudden understanding.
"Ooh, right! She doesn't want you to leave the city. That's understandable."
Glinda sighed inwardly, but nodded anyway. Bless the boy's oblivious heart.
"Maybe," she said quietly. At least she hoped that this would have been a reason if Shiz itself hadn't been so unacceptable to Elphaba.
"So what are you going to do?"
A lump formed in her throat, and the hand holding the letter clenched, wrinkling the expensive paper.
"Ignore it?" she ventured, risking a doubtful look at the letter.
Really, she should have destroyed it, ripped it to pieces. Instead, she rigidly folded it back together and forced it into the envelope from whence it had emerged. She flashed Tibbett a nervous smile before letting go of the sofa and disappearing into her bedroom.
She crossed the room, hurrying towards the overflowing dresser. She found the most crowded drawer and pulled it wide open, so she could bury the letter at the very bottom in the very back. Then, she slammed it shut.
The concealment and sealing away of the letter brought but little relieve. The enigma of its arrival continued to nag on her mind all the same. Perhaps she shouldn't have been so surprised, that a government official was able to track her down so quickly with only her name to go by. Surely, Morrible would have had several means on hand to do so. What was significantly more puzzling, was the question of why she'd go to such lengths in the first place. It was hard to imagine her that desperate for recruits.
Glinda decided not to tell Elphaba about any of this. The last thing she needed now were the conspiracy theories that her friend might concoct if she ever learnt about the letter.
Tibbett never mentioned Shiz again, and if he'd told Crope, his boyfriend was mindful of keeping it quiet as well.
On Tuesday morning they surprised her with breakfast in bed.
"Wait? What?" Glinda murmured, still drowsy from sleep. "What are you guys doing?"
"What does it look like?" asked Crope.
"You got the date wrong," she laughed. "My birthday is—"
"Tomorrow," interrupted Tibbett. "We know, sweetie."
"We just wanted to make sure you won't be at Elphaba's or wherever to kick the party off at midnight, robbing us of any opportunity to spoil you a little.
"In the middle of the week?" Glinda demanded incredulously.
Crope didn't think that a valid contraindication.
"It's your birthday!"
"It's my birthday every year," she chuckled. "It's not like this is even an important one."
"Each birthday is important," Tibbett told her gravely as he tied a kitchen towel around her neck to protect her nightie from crumbs and jam splatters."
Glinda exhaled in faint exasperation.
"Well, at any rate. Thank you, gentlemen, for this beautiful breakfast. You are herewith relieved from all other birthday duties this year."
The boy's faces fell.
"Well, we'd actually hoped to throw you a party of our own?"
"If not tomorrow, then maybe on the weekend," Crope interjected.
"That's very sweet. But I'm afraid I'll be at Fiyero's after work. Just for some quiet buddy time."
"Just to clarify this. You mean no party?"
"No party," confirmed Glinda.
Her flatmates exchanged blank looks.
"Not even on the weekend?" pressed Tibbett.
Glinda began to feel a little flustered. She hadn't wanted to disappoint her friends, but what could she do about it now?
"I'd prefer not to?" she responded, biting her lip guiltily.
"You, Miss, are a total weirdo," Tibbett concluded after a clock-tick of baffled silence, and his other half nodded in agreement.
"Maybe next year," Glinda allowed with a tired smile. "If I don't feel so stressed out that time around."
"Next year it is, and no 'buts'.
"Hey! There you are," Fiyero greeted her as she, fashionably late, arrived at his apartment. He kissed her cheek lightly. "Happy Birthday, babe."
"Thanks," she replied and beamed brightly at him.
With a sweeping hand gesture and a small bow, he bid her to come inside.
"You know, I would have organised a surprise party or something, but I hardly know anyone to surprise you with."
"Thank goodness for that," Glinda giggled, "That would have been the last thing I need. All I came for is a peaceful evening with my bestie."
Fiyero nodded happily.
"And that you shall have."
He directed her towards the sitting area and gently pushed her shoulders to make her sit down. Amused, she looked up to him, tilting her head.
"What's your plan?" she asked, but he only offered her a mysterious smile as he reached for the remote.
"You'll wait here and relax," he instructed her while flicking through the channels. Once he'd found something more or less interesting, he placed the remote aside and grabbed the blanket he'd prepared nearby, draping it over Glinda. "Okay, get comfy and wait for my signal. It won't take long, so please behave yourself and don't peek."
"Why? Are you going to cook naked?" she teased.
"Old Vinkun custom, to spice up the food," he joked back with a wink.
"Fine, I won't disturb you. But don't take all night please, 'cause I'm starving."
When she woke up later, she had not a clue as to how long she might have slept. Her head started to throb the moment she stirred, but she rolled over anyway. Fiyero sat feet up on the broken stuffed chair, laptop balancing precariously on his knees. As per usual, he was too absorbed into his work to have noticed the faint movement on the couch. Behind him, the window was dark, and that meant something in the middle of summer. Glinda realised she must have been out cold for at least two hours or so.
She forced herself to sit up. Her head screamed at her in protest, and all she could do about it was to pull the blanket a little snugger around her shoulders. Slightly bleary eyed, she stared in Fiyero's general direction, without properly focusing on anything in particular. Eventually, he saw her and jumped up.
"Good morning, darling!" he said cheerfully. "How are you feeling?"
"I've got a headache. That's why I don't usually nap." She paused and furrowed her brow. "It's not really morning, is it?"
"Nope. Just"—he quickly checked his watch—"seven past nine."
"Holy crap! I was supposed to be on my way back home by now."
"Yeah… you might want to shoot your lovely flatmates a text that you're staying overnight after all."
"I can't," she sighed, feeling guilty for wasting their time together with sleeping. "Why didn't you wake me up when dinner was ready?"
"Because you need every bit of rest you can get. You've clearly been overworking yourself recently."
"Maybe a little bit," she allowed with a shrug. "Anyway, shall we eat?"
"Sure. You stay here for just another minute while I microwave the food, alright?" Disappearing around the corner, he added, "Don't drift off again!"
Chuckling, she pulled out her phone to slowly type out a message for Tibbett and Crope. When Fiyero returned, he handed her a glass of water and a tablet.
"Thanks," she murmured and swallowed the painkiller.
Fiyero took her hand to help her up.
"Dinner is served, my lady."
The table was laid tidily, but with Fiyero's typical misfitting assortment of various cutleries, plates and glasses. In the dimmed room, mostly lit by small tea lights, however, the effect wasn't quite as jarring. In the centre of the table, a vase with roses.
"You didn't pay for those, did you?" Glinda laughed.
"Sponsored by the Ozma Gardens," Fiyero confirmed with a cheeky grin and proceeded to help her with her chair.
The food was traditional Vinkun home cooking. If it was just for himself, Fiyero extremely rarely went to the trouble, and especially not the expense, of procuring fresh ingredients and rustling up actual meals. Which was not to mean that he wasn't good at it when he set his mind to it.
"This is delicious," praised Glinda in between bites. "Thank you."
"At your service, my lady," he grinned back.
They finished their meal with a platter of Vinkun-style thinly sliced dried meats, derived from gazelle, buffalo, and wild ass, accompanied by a few glasses of mediocre wine.
"Stay where you are," Fiyero suddenly ordered her and jumped up.
Curiously, she craned her neck, but he had already disappeared into his bedroom. To bridge the time, she picked another piece from the wooden plate and nibbled on it while checking her phone. As much as she hated to leave right after dinner, it was getting very late.
"Fiyero—" she began, rising to her feet the moment she saw him entering the room.
Her words were cut off when he reached for her right hand to press a small paper bag into it. Startled, she first stared into his eyes, then looked down at the ribbon topped parcel.
"Aren't you going to open it?"
"Y—you really shouldn't have," she answered quietly. Oz knew how much he'd spent on dinner; a present really wasn't necessary in his current financial situation.
"Well, but as you can see, I already did. So go ahead, before it gets even later and you have to sleep over after all."
She finally did as she was told and revealed a delicate gold chain with a golden pendant of Vinkun letters.
"Wow," she breathed in awe, "not quite what I expected."
"Oh? What did you expect?" he laughed, perhaps a little nervously.
"I don't know. But definitely not this." She couldn't keep her fingers from playing with the precious piece in her hands, wondering how much it must have cost. "Where did you even get this from?"
"Don't worry too much about it. I bought it last time I visited the Vinkus."
"And that was like what… two years ago?"
"Yup. I bought several items, in fact, and if things had gone differently, I would probably have showered you with all of them at once. But the way life is looking now, I had to ration them."
"That's so sweet of you," she said, smiling up at him, locking her fingers with his. "But you really don't have to get me anything."
"I realise that. But as long as I can, I really want to. On your birthday at least; we already don't do Lurlinemas anymore. Do you like it though?"
"Can you help me put it on?"
He carefully took the chain from her and put it around her neck, then followed her to the bathroom where she was looking for a mirror.
"Do you like it?" he reiterated, and she wistfully brought her hand up to touch the swirling golden words.
"It's beautiful," she whispered. She looked up to see him behind her in the mirror. "What does it say?"
"Sun of my life," Fiyero responded solemnly, and her breath caught.
She forced herself to remain calm—if not on the inside, then at least outwardly. Still, with her heart racing as it did, it was no easy feat. She remembered calling Fiyero the most romantic aromatic person on the planet, and when they had still been in a relationship, his attentive nature had charmed her to no end. Yet now, the thought that he might clandestinely still be holding on to their shared past was devastating.
Dropping her gaze, she quickly turned around.
"Fiyero, I—"
But he silenced her with a shushing sound and a finger on her lips.
"It's okay, Glin. I'm sorry you took this so seriously. I was just messing with you.
Incredulous, she breathed in relieve before giving him a little punch.
"You're such an idiot," she scoffed, and went on to hug him. "For real though, what does it say then?"
"It's a protection charm," he explained. "Not that I really believe in this sort of stuff, but I reckoned it was pretty, and you know, it's always better to err on the side of caution."
"That's… very thoughtful of you. Thank you."
She finally decided to gather her things, and Fiyero walked her to the tram station, just to be sure. After waiting silently for a few minutes, he casually bumped into her and smirked lopsidedly when she looked up to him.
"You're such a goof," she giggled and bumped him back.
"There's something I wanted to ask you," he said in a sudden swing to seriousness, catching her slightly off guard.
A similar uneasiness to that she'd experienced in the bathroom began to creep up her spine. She smiled sweetly to not let it show.
"Okay. What would that be?"
"I… um…" He raised his hand to sheepishly scratch the back of his neck. "I was kinda procrastinating the other day, and before I knew it, I was on proLINK, trying to look… look up your Thropp friend."
"Oh, is that right?" Glinda replied, crossing her arms.
"Yeah. I mean, she works for TMB and she's green, right? Kinda not that hard to pick her out from among all the other Elphaba Thropps that aren't even on there, since there are no other Thropps on there to begin with."
Despite herself, Glinda couldn't contain the snort of laughter at this point, no matter how mad she might have planned to be with Fiyero.
"You're a hopeless case, Fiyero Tigelaar,' she sighed, but grinned."
"I didn't do anything though," he hastened to add. "I mean, I really wanted to reach out to her, to get to know her and tell her that I'm your other friend and stuff… but I realised, I should actually ask for your permission first."
Glinda blinked at him.
"Good call," she eventually praised him, fairly impressed.
He on the other hand stared at her expectantly.
"So?" he pressed eventually, making her roll her eyes.
"Well, I appreciate your thoughtfulness, because until you two meet officially, introduced by me, I'd prefer if you would not start scheming behind my back."
Fiyero's face fell somewhat and she reached out to pat his arm comfortingly.
"There, there. I promise to make the necessary arrangements as soon as I can. You must admit though, if you were just a tat more social, the introduction would have happened ages ago." She bit her lip and winced a little. "Not that I intended to blame you; it's just that it makes things trickier, right?"
"I guess," he grimaced, then his eyes jumped away from hers.
Turning around to follow his gaze, Glinda spotted the approaching tram.
"I guess that's me. Thanks for waiting with me." She pushed herself onto her tiptoes to place a quick peck onto his cheek. "Love you. See you later and have a good night."
She chose the seat closest to the driver's cab, just to be safe. Most of her way home, she absentmindedly fiddled with the chain, wondering if Fiyero had told her the truth the second time around. She couldn't exactly justify her doubts or conjure up a decent motive, but after the initial shock, she couldn't shake the odd feeling either.
Her first course of action on the following morning was to send Elphaba a birthday message, complete with an obscene number of pink heart emojis and a photo of kittens with party hats.
'What the heck?' was Elphaba's first reply, and Glinda broke in fits of giggles as she imagined her prickly expression along with the words.
'Thanks, I guess,' followed a while after, and even later, an invitation to Mennipin Street.
Glinda smiled to herself, but tiredly.
'Sorry, but too exhausted to party.'
'No party. Just a glass of wine and dinner and a ride home. Party's on Sunday if you can make it.'
Now that actually sounded tempting. Still undecided, however, Glinda postponed her reply until after her next client meeting.
Upon return to her desk, she discovered several messages from Elphaba.
'I take this as a yes then?'
'Can I pick you up at 5.30 pm?'
'I can wait if that's too early.'
Her friend's impatience flattered her, and she suddenly thought it exceedingly cruel to end the stream of texts with a refusal.
'Outside my place,' she wrote, "6.30 pm, if you please.'
If she were to visit Elphaba's place tonight, she couldn't go emptyhanded. The present was already bought and wrapped, but she'd left it at home, not expecting to need it so soon.
Naturally, Elphaba agreed, and that was that.
They hadn't talked eye to eye for a week, and weariness aside, Glinda was glad to catch up.
"How's life been?" Elphaba asked with a brief glance at her as she climbed into the car.
"Good enough. How about yourself?"
The green girl made a face.
"Avaric has fucked up," she related. "Like big time."
"Lovely. What does that have to do with you though?"
"He got a teller girl pregnant somehow. He assures me that it was consensual and that they used protection, but her story is that he pressured her into it."
"Goodness," Glinda murmured, undecided between amusement and mortification. "She's eying more than child support then?"
"For sure. She's going to sue him. He got this fancy idea in his head that I can miraculously persuade her otherwise, but in truth, I'm just collecting materials and keep the files up to date for the lawyer when he takes over. I'm the freaking head of HR, not a mistress of enchantment."
"The media will have a field day."
"Probably not," Elphaba shrugged. "I see bribery and shush money in the future, with a dose of tightly packaged non-disclosure agreements."
"So you are a witch after all," Glinda quipped.
"Hardly. No magic and crystal balls required. It's simply the course of things in this world."
When they arrived, dinner was already waiting. Elphaba had prepared most of it right after work, and her maid had finished the job and laid the table. Glinda slightly blushed in embarrassment as she recognised the big Dog, recalling all too vividly her awkward bewilderment at her sheer size when they had first met.
"Thank you, Trikks," Elphaba said and nodded.
The Dog grinned and bobbed her head in a rushed and sloppy curtsy before quickly making herself scarce.
"That's new," Glinda commented. "I thought you didn't really like having help around the house."
Wordlessly, Elphaba pulled a chair out for the blonde and helped her to get seated. Finally, she poured the wine before assuming her own place at the headend of the table.
"Her father lost his job recently. She was reluctant so tell me, but once she did, we soon came to the agreement that she needs longer hours and a small raise. She wouldn't accept any handouts, but this arrangement seemed to please her."
"I see." Casting a brief glance towards the door, Glinda wondered whether that meant that they were being watched this very moment, just in case the maid's services were required.
Elphaba cleared her voice.
"I told her to go home after this," she said.
Glinda's snapped around, and looking at Elphaba she immediately knew that Elphaba had followed her gaze and guessed her thoughts.
"Shall we begin then?" Elphaba asked, and Glinda agreed enthusiastically.
After dinner they retired to the drawing room, as per usual. Elphaba disappeared for a short while with the promise to fetch more wine. Making the most of this opening, Glinda swiftly snuck out as well, fetching the present from her handbag in the hall. Evidently, she wasn't fast enough, for when she turned around to head back to the drawing room, she bumped right into Elphaba.
"Forgot something?" the taller girl asked innocently, as though she wasn't so close to her that she must have deliberately walked up to her.
At any rate, her surprise attack was a success, as a small shriek escaped Glinda's lips, and the carefully wrapped parcel flew into the air. It hit Elphaba's head first, then her chest, before she managed to get a hold of it.
"What in Oz is this?" she asked as she laughed at Glinda's astonished face.
"A present, you dottle," Glinda scowled and reclaimed the package. She studied it for a moment, then held it out again for Elphaba to take. "Here. Happy Birthday."
Elphaba now a least had the decency to look a bit abashed.
"Thanks. You didn't have to though."
"I know. That's what makes me so nice," Glinda replied exceedingly charmingly.
Instead of opening it on the spot, Elphaba clamped it under her arm. With the hand of the same arm, she picked up the bottle of wine she'd left on the low table by the door, leaving one arm unoccupied, so that she could offer it to Glinda.
"Will you join me in the drawing room?"
Glinda glanced away, playing coy for Elphaba's amusement as much as for the purpose of covering up her anxiety. A sweet, innocent smile on her lips, she looked up to her again from under her long, curled lashes, her chin hardly lifted at all. Latest then, she would have expected Elphaba to cackle at the silliness of it all, but all she could see was a small, lopsided smirk. She blushed, and accepted the inviting arm.
Back in the drawing room, Elphaba uncorked the bottle and poured the red liquid into Glinda's glass until it was full; her own, she only filled to a third.
"Must suck to be the designated driver on your own birthday," Glinda giggled.
"Did you even have any drinks at all on your birthday?" asked Elphaba in return.
Glinda startled, stopping with her glass mid-air to stare at her friend. Smiling, Elphaba pulled out a small box out of her pocket. The ribbon on it had become undone, so she quickly fixed it, before placing the present on the coffee table.
Amazed, Glinda shook her head. Setting her wine down, she said, "How—how did you even know?"
Grinning, Elphaba shrugged her shoulders.
"Remember the night you asked me for my birthday?" Glinda nodded faintly. "I was a bit confused at first, but thinking about it on the way home, I came to the conclusion that it maybe wasn't a bad piece of information to have. So, at work the next day, I pulled out your file and looked it up."
Glinda laughed.
"Oh, you sly thing!" She looked at the box on the table, then back at Elphaba. "Well, thank you."
"Are you going to open it?"
"What about you?" protested the blonde. "I gave you my present first!"
"Fine," relented Elphaba, "let's do it together, at the count of three."
"One," said Glinda, reaching for the tiny parcel.
"Two," continued Elphaba, placing her own gift on her lap.
"Three," they called out in unison and began to reveal what was underneath the ribbons, lids, and wrappings.
Elphaba was holding a book in her hands, studying the title reverently, while Glinda carefully extracted a little musical box from its packaging. She held it up to examine it from all angles. It was decorated with exquisitely carved patterns and painted images of Animals. She looked for a handle to turn the drum, but found that it had a key to wind it up instead. Curious, she turned it a few times, then let the music play.
"It's the kind that's traditionally made in Munchkinland," Elphaba explained, speaking softly enough not to take away from the pleasure of the music. "I bought it here though, from an old Raccoon who normally works as a luthier, building guitars and such."
"It's so intricate," marvelled Glinda.
"Easier to achieve for tiny hands," Elphaba grinned.
"I suppose so, but it's obvious this Raccoon has some mad skills."
"I'm glad you like it." Then, Elphaba held up the book. "And thank you for this. It will make for an extremely interesting read."
"I'm afraid it's not in the best condition," Glinda replied, wrinkling her nose.
Carefully browsing through the yellowed pages, Elphaba smiled.
"This will do just fine. It's all legible, and only one or two pages have come loose. I might be able to do some restauration work on this. I bet if the topic was a different one, it would have cost a fortune."
"Probably," Glinda agreed. "I found it in an antique book shop, but as far as antique books go, this copy must have been one of the cheapest out there."
"Well, I'm sure most of the other copies of 'On the Emergence of [A]nimal Species' were destroyed rather than re-sold. I feel very fortunate to own one now."
The genuine look of gratitude in Elphaba's eyes made Glinda flush furiously. It had been pure luck that she had discovered such a fitting present. She'd only entered the shop to scour it for architectural coffee table books, and had discovered this particular volume per chance on the discount stand next to the counter. Before then, she'd considered getting Elphaba a fancy drink bottle set, or some other generic gift.
Finished with poring over the old book for the time being. Elphaba carefully set it aside and turned towards Glinda. Smiling almost shyly, she licked her lips, seemingly preparing to say something, when they both detected noise coming from the entrance hall. There was some shuffling, the jangling of keys, and a big thud when the door fell shut.
"Shell's back," Elphaba groaned, rubbing the bridge of her nose.
Glinda sighed, but chuckled.
"It's his home, too, I suppose."
She heard heavy footsteps trampling up the stairs, and was about to comment that Shell might be heading straight to bed without disturbing them, when she realised that another set of feet were swiftly coming closer. She looked up at Elphaba, and Elphaba stared back at her. She must have noticed it, too. Before either of them could open their mouth to make any guesses, Sarima barged through the door.
"Heeey! Happy Birthday, girl!" she cried, flinging herself at Elphaba for a big hug and kisses on both cheeks. "How cheeky of you not to tell me it's your big day today."
"You told me you were coming on Sunday anyway," Elphaba remarked drily, shifting on the couch to make space, so that Sarima didn't have to remain seated on her lap for the remainder of the evening. Slightly unwilling perhaps, the Vinkun took the now empty seat between her and Glinda, fleetingly turning around to the blonde for a less than half-hearted greeting.
"Well, of course," she grinned as she turned back to Elphaba, "but if I already see you at work all day, I can't not congratulate you on the actual day, right? Besides, this is a special one. Thirty fucking years!" Her hand fleetingly brushed Elphaba's cheek, and her expression took on a wistful quality. "And your skin is still baby-smooth. How do you do it?"
It was almost too much for Glinda to bear. The only mitigating factor was Sarima's apparent intoxication, though how much of her behaviour could be accredited to the alcohol was impossible to determine.
Elphaba rose to her feet and walked over to the liquor cabinet to fetch a whiskey glass for her unexpected guest. Obviously, she did not consider the Vinkun's behaviour unusual enough to be caused by severe inebriation.
"The anniversary of my birth is a day that is not significantly different from any other day of the year," she said as she filled the glass with a small helping of wine. "If my friends find it important to commemorate my existence with a minor get-together, I'm happy enough to indulge them. But in that case, there is no further need to acknowledge my actual birthday, if it is already to be celebrated on the coming Sunday instead."
Sarima's brows rose, and she cast a quick glance at Glinda.
"Princess Blondie is here. Surely, that didn't happen entirely by chance?"
Glinda followed her gaze to the coffee table, where the remnants of gift-wrappings were still waiting to be cleaned away. Denial was obviously futile.
"It was her birthday, too," Elphaba told Sarima. "Yesterday. I invited her for a quiet dinner."
"Did you not invite Elph to your party?" Sarima demanded incredulously, once again turning towards Glinda. "Are you hiding her from your other friends, or something? I bet they are all upper crust Gillikinese snobs and sorority chicks."
"There is no party this year," Glinda replied firmly. "And while I'm acquainted with a fair number of 'upper crust snobs,' you'll be relieved to learn that my closest friends include a theatre kid, a sociology TA who's also the leader of the university's queer club, and a penniless Vinkun dude. I have no reason to hide her from anyone."
Sarima looked away, pursing her lips.
"Fine. I'm sorry," she said after a few seconds. I should know better than to judge."
Suppressing an irritated sigh, Glinda nodded.
"It's alright. We all do it from time to time."
"I'm glad you're getting along, kids," Elphaba commented, clasping her hands and finally sitting back down. "So. How did you find out about today to begin with?"
"I met Shell at a bar," Sarima told them. "I was with friends, and he was all by himself, commiserating with the bartender. He was pretty drunk. I think he's had a tough day. Maybe it would be worth checking in with him later. Anyway, we talked about Sunday, and he said that your real birthday was today. A few drinks later, I offered to accompany him home, just to be safe. He went straight upstairs and should be in bed by now, I believe."
"That was very noble of you," Elphaba acknowledged. "Thanks for looking out for him."
"No problem. He's a nice kid."
"That's… a matter of opinion," Elphaba replied vaguely. She gave Glinda a smile and a nod. "I'm afraid it's rather late. I promised Glinda to drive her back home."
"Oh, can you drive me, too?" Sarima piped up.
Elphaba hesitated for just a second before agreeing. How could she not? After all, Sarima had helped her brother home this very evening.
Before departing, Elphaba insisted on checking on Shell. Glinda and Sarima remained downstairs, waiting for her in the entrance hall.
"Interesting necklace you've got," the taller woman eventually commented.
Somewhat apprehensive, Glinda brought her hand up to the golden pendant.
"Thanks. It's from my Vinkun friend."
"Ah, okay. I thought it might have been a souvenir trinket or something." Sarima stuffed her hands into her pockets. "Have you even ever been to the Vinkus?"
"I have," confirmed Glinda, pulling back her shoulders. "Three times. But I haven't been in a while now."
"Huh. Who would have guessed. I better stop making thinly veiled jibes at your ignorance then," Sarima cackled.
Glinda couldn't tell whether she was still mocking her.
"I'd appreciate that," she said carefully.
Elphaba's return came as a relief.
"He's out like a light, but still breathing. Let's go."
They headed for the car, and Sarima confidently hurried towards the front passenger seat. Rolling her eyes, Glinda contented herself with the backrow.
"We'll drop you off first, Sarima," decided Elphaba. "Glinda's place is a bit further out."
"Oh, but I really don't mind going for a bit of a drive."
Glinda saw Elphaba looking at her through the mirror and averted her eyes, gazing out of the window instead.
"Well, if you don't mind. I'm sure Glinda will be happy to get a couple extra minutes of sleep."
The blonde didn't care much for their conversations. She spent the time on her phone to distract herself. When the car stopped in front of her building, she looked up dazed. Elphaba got out of the car and opened her door to help her out.
"I'll be back in a flash," she informed Sarima, then pushed the door shut.
After walking Glinda to the main door, Elphaba paused and touched her elbow to get her attention.
"I'll see you Sunday, I suppose?"
Biting her lip, Glinda locked eyes with her.
"I'm not sure about that. I'm tired. I told Crope and Tibbs not to throw me a party; I'm not sure if I'm up to attending anyone else's."
"Fair enough," Elphaba conceded, kicking gravel with her toes. "But is there really no way to change your mind?"
Glinda chuckled.
"Why, Elphie. You almost sound desperate."
"Not quite, but I'd enjoy your company."
"I'll… let you know. Maybe after tomorrow? I have a stressful day ahead of me, and if I survive it unscathed, I might even be able to drag myself out of bed this weekend."
Elphaba bobbed her head in agreement.
"Sure. And good luck tomorrow, whatever it is that has you so worried."
Her voice trailed off after that, leaving Glinda to wonder whether she was hoping for any elucidations. Glinda, however, was not prepared to provide any such thing. Chuffrey would remain her secret, her own problem to deal with.
Xoxox
"Glinda." She looked up and saw Yolona's face hovering no more than an inch over her. "He's here," her colleague half-whispered urgently.
"Already? He's ten… no, twelve minutes early."
"Well, he's waiting outside. There are no rules against that."
"No, there aren't," Glinda breathed. "I think I'm going to make him wait."
"Out of spite?" Yolona asked amused. "Goodness, you're wicked." Schooling her face, she added, "If I were you, I'd want to get it over and done with as quickly as possible."
With that and a little wave she left, returning to her own desk, where Dayae was waiting for her. Her bottom had hardly touched the chair before her partner started bombarding her with questions. Glinda did not need to guess much what topic the two of them were discussing so heatedly.
Suddenly overcome by restlessness, she began to drum her fingers on the tabletop. If she'd remained ignorant of Chuffrey's arrival, she wouldn't have gone looking for him until a few minutes after the appointed time, but knowing that he was sitting outside in the hallway was nagging on her mind and sufficiently distracted her from any work she might have otherwise accomplished. Looking up at the clock on the wall, she found that hardly two minutes had passed since she'd received the news, yet she felt like she'd been fretting over it for at least the quarter of an hour.
Cursing mildly under her breath, she closed her laptop and packed everything she might need into her bag. With Chuffrey's file under her arm and her head held high, she strode towards the waiting area. Before opening the glass door, she paused, taking a deep breath and fixing an indulgent smile on her lips.
"Mr. Chuffrey," she greeted him pleasantly, waving her hand in the general direction of the meeting room she'd booked. Without waiting for his reaction, she turned around and led the way.
"Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule today," Chuffrey said as he entered the room.
Glinda looked up from the stack of papers she was sorting through and smiled.
"But of course. Now, how can I help you? Is there a specific matter you have in mind, or is this consultation of more general nature?"
Much to her surprise, he kept their meeting mostly professional. Beyond asking for her mother's wellbeing, he only rarely delved into private territory.
However, if she thought mid-way through that she was out of the woods, she was celebrating too early. Chuffrey was patient, but far from reconciled with the fact that Glinda wasn't interested in him. He waited until the very last minute before reiterating his earlier proposal.
"Thank you for your help today, Miss Glinda. Do you know what else I could need your help with?"
"With tips on how to spend less of your money?" she asked, tilting her head and smirking.
"No. Actually, quite the opposite. I'd like to spend a bit of money tonight. On you. Will you agree to dinner at the Florinthwaite?"
"The nightclub?" Glinda exclaimed, more bewildered by the mention of the familiar name than the invitation in itself. Suffice to say, it did not evoke the most comfortable memories.
"It is a club," Chuffrey explained, "but there is more to it than night entertainment. Back in the day it was a gentleman's club. Currently, it includes a bar, a restaurant, the nightclub you mentioned, and the original social club. So? What do you say?"
She held his gaze for another clock-tick, then turned away, scoffing.
"I can't believe you're still going on about this."
"And I can't believe you're still being so stubborn," countered Chuffrey without any edge to his words.
Her hands tightened around the folder they were holding. She wished she could drop everything and simply walk out—out of this room, out of this building, out of his life. Yet, as things were, she had no choice but to remain exactly where she was, trying her best to satisfy him as a client and still keep him at arm's length privately. It was a balancing act that seemed to become increasingly impossible with every encounter. She ground her teeth in anger, then whirled around.
"Fine," she snapped, eyes blazing at him with all the ferocity of a cornered wild cat. "One date. Just as you asked of me before. No less and definitely no more, unless I say so."
His grin was small, but unmistakably triumphant. She couldn't stand to look at him for even another second.
"One date," he confirmed softly. His hand reached for her shoulder to gently turn her around and make her face him again. She shrugged it off, crossing her arms. Chuffrey pursed his lips and copied her stance, cocking his head and smiling haughtily. "I have no indecency in mind. Surely, you have no reason to be so guarded around men."
"My reasons are my own," came her curt reply as she took another step away from him.
He sighed.
"Very well. I promise to make every effort to respect your boundaries tonight."
"Tonight?" Her eyes locked with his once more before she could stop herself.
"That's what I said, right?" he answered amused. But Glinda vehemently shook her head.
"Oz, is it really so hard to imagine that I might actually have a life of my own," she breathed agitatedly, causing Chuffrey to roll his eyes, just like he was about to make a comment about women and their irrational moods.
"How about Saturday?" he offered oh so generously.
Glinda still hesitated.
"Chuff, I—"
"Don't make me wait again like you made me wait for this," he almost growled, momentarily losing his cool. Lowering his head, he calmed himself. "Okay. Sunday then."
Sunday was Elphaba's party, to which she still didn't know whether she should go or not. Chuffrey was presenting her a very simple and irrefutable reason not to go, but accepting his invitation over Elphaba's somehow seemed an insupportable choice.
"Let's do Saturday," she said tiredly, waving her hand dismissively as she threw in the proverbial towel.
Chuffrey seemed to take no particular note of her displeasure, and only nodded in satisfaction.
"Brilliant. I'll pick you up at six?"
"No, I'll meet you there," insisted Glinda.
He raised his eyebrows and peered at her suspiciously.
"You won't stand me up, will you?"
"No. Definitely not, I promise. It might have taken me a while to accept your invitation, but once I have given my word, I won't break it."
Her reassurance appeared to be good enough for him. Bobbing his head, he picked up his briefcase before wishing her a quiet afternoon. At the door, he turned around one last time, flashing her a dashing grin.
"See you tomorrow."
Part of Glinda had hoped that Crope and Tibbett would have departed for their own evening entertainment by the time she was forced to leave her room, but deep down, she'd already known that this was unlikely to be the case. It was the end of the month after all. Both of their budgets were running dry, which meant that they were most likely staying in, or at the very least, getting a head start by consuming a fair volume of inexpensive liquor at home instead of paying an arm and a leg at the club later.
Her next best option was to make as little fuss as possible. She didn't try to hide it when she slipped out of her room at last, because that would only have given rise to more suspicions, but no amount of nonchalance could entirely make up for the elegant frock she was wearing.
"Shut the door!" Tibbett called out, alerting Crope to Glinda's fancy getup.
"Oh my Oz, Glin! You're going on a date! I have a very fine-tuned intuition for this sort of stuff."
"That you have," Glinda admitted under her breath and pressed her lips together.
Tibbett climbed over the backrest of the couch and quickly crossed the room to get a closer look. A thoughtful expression on his face, he examined her, even taking her hand to inspect her jewellery. Her dress was made up of altering panels of satin and lace, backed up with a fabric of the colour of her skin. It had a high collar, long sleeves with oversized cuffs, and reached just above her knees. It had taken her a while to arrive at this wardrobe decision. Outfits that she found to be confidence enhancing often translated to 'sexy' in the eyes of others. Striking the right balance so as not to give Chuffrey the wrong idea had proven tricky, and she was still not sure if she'd chosen wisely.
"You're a sight to behold," Tibbett concluded his assessment with a smile, then bent down to kiss the back of her hand. Glinda couldn't help bit giggle softly, until he looked up with concern. "I have but one objection to raise: As lovely as this outfit is, I don't know if it's particularly wise to dress in such a dominating shade of Emerald when your partner's skin is vivid green also. It's a bit… on the nose? Alternatively, it might come across as mockery rather than tribute. To outsiders at least."
Averting her eyes, Glinda pulled back her hand as well.
"But I'm not going out with Elphaba."
Her flatmates both stopped to stare at her in plain disbelieve.
"What the heck?" Crope eventually managed to croak.
Tibbett ran his hand across his face as though he'd suddenly developed an intense headache.
"It's—it's complicated," Glinda tossed out, shaking her head. "It's just one date. I have to; to be left in peace."
"Is someone coercing you?" Crope asked alarmed, stepping closer to put his hands on her shoulders. "Your mum? A stalker at work?"
He was more or less right on both counts, but Glinda had no desire or time to discuss the matter.
"It's fine," she said definitively, turning away from the boys and heading towards the door. "It's an acquaintance, and I don't want him to say anything to my mother, so all I have to do is to prove to him that we're not a good match. He'll leave me alone after that."
"I don't know about this," insisted Crope.
"But I do," she shot back as she put on her shoes. "It's my business. Please keep your noses out of it."
"Just looking out for you," Tibbett muttered sullenly.
"Lovely. Thanks. Your concern has been noted. I'm leaving now. Have a nice evening."
If there were any more protests, they weren't loud enough to be heard through the door.
She took a taxi to the restaurant, working herself up throughout the ride. The boys' last minute disagreement with her plan had not been particularly helpful. Before disembarking, she took out her mirror to touch up her makeup, making every effort to cover up her doubts as well as the blemishes. Chuffrey was already waiting for her, dressed in slacks and a navy blazer.
"You came," he remarked, sounding surprisingly relieved. Glinda had expected him to be confident enough to either foresee her inevitable arrival, or shrug off a no-show as uncouth, unladylike and not his fault at all.
"I don't break promises," she repeated her words from the previous day. "I expect you won't either."
Inclining his head he offered his arm.
"Shall we?"
The Florinthwaite was about as fancy as restaurants come. Despite the high prices, the large room was at capacity. There was no way that an ordinary customer would have been able to secure a table on such a short notice. They were welcomed by a young man in uniform, who greeted Chuffrey by name and immediately saw them to his 'usual booth' in the gallery. There, a number of spots were still empty, most likely reserved for members of the attached gentleman's club and other VIPs.
Chuffrey held her arm firmly as they ascended the stairs, and for once, she was too distracted to truly mind. The building was old, a small converted theatre from the late Ozma period, she suspected. She was fascinated to see that the original architecture had been so beautifully preserved and wondered why she'd never read about this in any of her architecture magazines.
She could have spent all evening studying her surroundings, but her good breeding demanded she paid more attention to her date once seated. Still, she risked the one or the other look whenever he seemed otherwise distracted, and despite her attempt to be discrete, he soon caught on to it.
"Magnificent, isn't it?" he said with a broad smile. "It's over two hundred years old."
One eyebrow arched in amusement, she took a sip from her wine glass.
"You're not wrong. Technically." She took particular delight in the quizzical expression on his face. "Going by the artistic style, this place should be no younger than three hundred and fifty years. By definition, that would be over two hundred years."
"Touché," he chuckled, lifting his hands in surrender. "Is that a special interest of yours? Architecture?"
"Yes. Much more than finance or any of that. But I decided to choose a responsible, sustainable career path. You see, I never intended to rely on my parents, or a husband for that matter."
"Why not?" he asked as he made space for the waitress to place his plate in front of him without further acknowledging her. Glinda smiled and thanked the dark-skinned woman upon receiving her own plate.
"I'm just your average twenty-first century girl, I suppose."
"With roots older than this building," Chuffrey pointed out. "Women of your heritage need not worry about money. Why not rely on family, why not find a husband who can provide for you, so that you can follow your passion. Wouldn't that be wonderful?"
"What if I happened to fall for someone of, let's say, lesser means? What was I to do then?"
"Forget about him," he countered before proposing to cut her meat for her—an offer which she pointedly declined. "It is my opinion that love can be learned, given a basic level of compatibility, good will, and some time."
"Which is why you've been so insistent on getting to know me better, correct?"
"Perhaps," he grinned charmingly.
"So what makes you think you might learn to love me? Is it my pretty face or my family name?"
"Both would enhance your prospects, that's true. I was rather going to comment on your wit and personality. But I guess a lot of it boils down to simple attraction."
"Then by such criteria, there is no way I could possibly fall in love with you," she laughed quietly.
He paused, his hands with the cutlery resting motionless besides his plate. His eyes were trained on some arbitrary spot on the tablecloth.
"That bad, huh?" he said at last, mustering a mirthless chuckle.
"I do not doubt your intellect," she clarified, and he looked up.
"That is comforting to know," he nodded. "But don't you even find me a tiny bit attractive?"
Glinda's lips twitched at the uncomfortable question. Keeping her answer short and vague would have been the easiest option, but her mood was too irritable that night, too argumentative. She'd agreed against her will to spend the evening with him, yet she'd never promised to be pleasant company. If there was a way to challenge him without throwing all propriety out of the window, she would do so.
"There is no denying your objective handsomeness," she allowed, offering him a faltering smile. "I suppose superficial qualities would be enough to charm some girls."
"But not others? Is it my personality you take issue with then?"
"I do." Confirmed Glinda, focusing on tracing the rim of her glass with her finger instead of him. "Most of all your arrogance."
"Phew," he said and suddenly began to laugh. "Well, at least that can easily be amended."
"How so?" she asked, looking up from her glass, unable to hide any of her scepticism.
"I know how I come across to some people," he began to explain, appearing not at all remorseful. "It is a shame, but it can't be helped. I can't help myself. You see, my arrogance, if you will, is really only me overcompensating for my lack of confidence. Once we know each other better I can relax, and you will learn that I'm not that bad a guy."
Glinda wasn't impressed.
"No, I'm sorry to pop your bubble, but I believe we have met sufficiently often, and your humble, pleasant alter ego has not yet shone through in the slightest."
"Because you continue to act so hostile towards me," he insisted, leaning in a little closer.
Glinda in turn sat back in her chair, reinstating a more agreeable distance between them.
"So it's my fault now?" she questioned with false calmness.
"In a manner of speaking. Although I feel rather uncomfortable making such accusations towards a lady."
"Then why don't you take the first step by making more of an effort?"
"Perhaps I could," he shrugged, "if only you'd be willing to meet me halfway as well."
An unbridled sigh escaped her lips. Contemplating an appropriate comeback, she let her gaze wander. Anywhere else was fine at this point, as long as she didn't have to look at him. Her attention was drawn back to him, however, when she heard him pushing back his chair and greeting an acquaintance or friend.
"Trave, long time no see! How are you doing, man?"
"Not too bad, not too bad. But I see you have company, so I better leave you to—"
The young man did a double take when Glinda looked up at him. She'd recognised him in an instant, and hearing his name immediately erased any doubts. She still recalled vividly the night at the Florinthwaite nightclub when he'd kissed her, like she remembered all incidents of such kind. What astounded her, was the recognition evident in his face. It seemed unusual to her that a perceived womanizer like him would have any recollections at all of a girl he'd met and kissed no more than once, several months ago.
"Oh, and this is Glinda of the Arduenna clan in Frottica," Chuffrey informed his friend as the blonde rose to shake Trave's hand. "Glinda, this is Trave Guffoe. We are both members of the same club."
"Nice to see you again, Trave," Glinda said, smiling but hesitant to hold his gaze.
Chuffrey looked back and forth between them.
"You know each other?"
"Through a mutual friend," Trave replied. "Unfortunately, we've not seen each other since our first meeting." Directed at Glinda, he enquired about Milla.
"I'm afraid I haven't seen her recently."
"What a pity," replied Trave, his eyes lingering at her in the most disconcerting way.
She swallowed.
"Quite."
Chuffrey, not entirely oblivious to the strange tension between them, was quick to begin questioning his friend about his family and his business ventures, distracting him from Glinda. While she was thankful for that, she had no doubt that his efforts were entirely self-interested.
When he finally took his leave, it almost looked like he might be trying to lean in to hug Glinda, but changed his mind midway, offering his hand instead. Once he was gone, Glinda asked to be excused for a moment.
"He seemed keen on you," Chuffrey remarked upon her return. "Does that make you uneasy?"
"To some degree," she confessed, taking a sip from her wine. "Are we getting dessert?"
"Of course. If there's anything that tickles your fancy?" He called for the waiter to bring them the menus. "Tell me, Glinda: do you have commitment issues?"
His bluntness was startling, yet something about the prospect of an honest conversation with him also intrigued her, so she considered giving it a go.
"No," she said and took a deep breath. "But there are aspects of relationships that I find… unsettling."
"Is that why you're so resistant to being wooed? Because you're afraid of those aspects?"
"I'm resistant to being wooed, because I honestly doubt that I would have to energy or resolve to work out the many kinks of a relationship that did not develop naturally. If I need to be actively convinced to enter a partnership, the process of making said partnership work can only be cruelling and laborious, eventually resulting in resentment from both parties involved. Can you see my point?"
Chuffrey folded his hands and sat in quiet contemplation until the waiter returned to enquire about the desserts.
"Can I make you an offer?" he asked after placing their orders.
Glinda nodded indifferently.
"I'm open to listening, but do not expect me to take you up on whatever it is."
"You find relationships difficult, and you know how happy it would make both of our families if you and I were to connect."
Tossing her hair agitatedly, Glinda turned her head away from him once again. Why was he trying to sell the same old proposal as something new? She'd known about his hopes and desires towards her for long enough, rejected him far too often. Why couldn't he just stop beating that same old horse?"
"My mother might be a pain in the neck," she muttered, teeth clenched, "but I'd rather endure her never-ending bickering than being stuck in a loveless marriage."
"Who said anything about marriage?" Chuffrey said mildly. "My suggestion is this: we start it slow, as slow as you want. We keep it private. No announcements, no ballyhoo. See it as some sort of practice, as well as a back-up plan. I will be here for you, and we can get used to each other. But if you find your prince charming—well, I'll be prepared to surrender you. Until then, parents will be mollified, alliances will be strengthened, you might get more comfortable with being in a relationship, and just perhaps, you might even change your mind about me."
She looked at him askance, unsure whether she should believe even a single word he had said. None of it made sense to her, especially from his perspective.
"Sorry, I need to ask," she said slowly, furrowing her brow, "but are you gay? Because that's the only scenario that seems to explain such an outrageous offer. If so, you could have told me earlier. I am not a homophobe."
Chuckling, Chuffrey shook his head.
"No, not even close. Which part of my plan doesn't make sense to you?"
"The part where you promise willingly to treat me with kid gloves and all the patience in the world, but promise to surrender me without complaint if I choose another partner further down the road. Other than a closeted gay dude, only a saint would agree to such terms."
"Well, that's my problem, not yours, right? You don't have anything to lose in this bargain."
Their dessert arrived, but Glinda could not bring herself to take a single bite. Her stomach was churning, making her feel queasy. His words kept reverberating in her head, chipping away at her resolve. She'd come so far. She'd found someone she loved, and she'd decided to blow convention and norms into the wind for that one person. But she was not yet immune to self-doubt and fears. What if Elphaba didn't want her at all, or if she wasn't enough for her in the long run? Would there ever be a second chance for her at love or even just to find something akin to what Chuffrey was willing to offer?
She'd tried something similar with Fiyero before. She loved Fiyero, but not in a romantic way, and both of them had known this before entering into that relationship. It would have probably worked, if it hadn't been for their failed attempts at passion and his desire for honesty. Glinda didn't mind the lies enough to go through the same hardships the Vinkun prince had ended up enduring. She'd trusted Fiyero because of their shared experience, but maybe she could also learn to trust Chuffrey if his promises turned out to be genuine.
He leaned closer to say something, but she couldn't hear the words. His hand reached out to cover hers, and she stared at it. In her mind she saw Elphaba's face, and for a second, his hand felt remarkably familiar, just like Elphaba's. It wasn't Elphaba's hand though, and she quickly retracted her own. When she looked up, he smiled at her patiently.
She imagined her parents' delight at the news of her and Chuffrey's eventual announcement of their relationship, the joys of a normal life, no longer fretting over her feelings or lack thereof. Was he really willing to give this to her? No strings attached? If so, perhaps it wouldn't be wrong of her to accept his proposal while still not entirely giving up her pursue of Elphaba.
His lips moved again. The fragments of words she was able to pick up were mostly intelligible, and she slightly shook her head to clear it.
"I'm sorry, I… this is a lot to take in."
"Are you okay?"
Their eyes met, and her insides lurched. She wondered what had happened to the self-absorbed asshole who'd pressured her into this date. Just as he'd promised, she suddenly found him quite transformed. Strangely so.
Taking a huge breath, she made up her mind on a whim.
"I agree to meet you again. We will take it slow. Very slow. I'm not sure if you understand how slow that would be." She added a nervous laugh, but he was already grinning like an idiot. "No announcements of any sort, to no-one, until I'm ready. Until then, I reserve the right to call it quits at any time for any reason or no reason at all."
She waited for his expression to change, but it didn't. She briefly second-guessed her pitch, but decided that it was too late for that now. At least this outline offered her plenty of loopholes and emergency exits in case she needed them. Pulling back her shoulders and crossing her arms lightly, she looked him deep into the eyes.
"Are those conditions acceptable to you?" she asked calmly, despite the uncomfortable flutter in her stomach.
"They are," he replied, and they concluded their dinner in silence. Glinda took small sips until her glass was at least half empty, while her panna cotta remained untouched.
Chuffrey settled the bill, showing off his kindness with a generous tip for the waiter. He also offered to drive her home, but she didn't want him to know her address just yet and came up with an excuse. Without questioning her, he hailed a taxi for her and paid the driver to take her wherever she wanted to go. To throw him a bone, she surrendered her mobile number to him.
Before she could succumb to an endless spiral of panic and doubts over what she'd just done, her phone rang. When she read Fiyero's name on the display, she had half a mind not to pick up, too worried that she'd immediately divulge her new best kept secret and suffer a full-blown meltdown. Fiyero rarely called her without texting though, and that alone made this call seem urgent enough for her to take the leap and be the good friend she was supposed to be.
"Hey, what's up?"
"Glinda?"
Her heart skipped a beat at his breathless voice.
"Are you okay?"
"Yes, but can you come? I really need to talk to you."