AN:
Hello lovelies!
Welcome to the second to last chapter... although there will be some add-on chapters, which are like extra snippets from their life after this main story. Not sure how many... maybe one in addition to the one that has long been out as a one-shot.
anyways:
Vic: Thank you so much for your review! And no, I was totally not aware that we now have an ace day in addition (I hope?) to ace week in October! Thanks for letting me know. I feel like I'm living a bit under a rock in this regard now that I'm mostly inactive on tumblr. I wish I had more time to keep up to date with this stuff...
And since vic mentioned ace Glinda...
I really thought that Glinda would be a great character to represent the ace community, especially since she goes against all the common stereotypes: she's pretty and attractive (no, aces are NOT ugly wallflowers who simply can't find someone to love them), she isn't socially inept or anything like that. She is just your normal girl next door. Like many of us are. There doesn't need to be any childhood trauma, autism etc to "cause" asexuality. If that plays into someone's asexuality... that's okay. Everyone is different and still valid. But none of this is a prerequisite. You wouldn't recognise most aces on the street (unless they like to flaunt their pride colours and merch, I guess). They are normal people, just like Glinda. Thanks.
If anyone has any other comments or questions, I'm always happy to address them :)
Aaaaaand finally:
About this chapter.
Let me extend a WARNING FOR OFFENSIVE AND ABUSIVE LANGUAGE that might not be accurately reflected in the story's overall rating. If that is a problem for you, please accept my sincerest apologies. If you wish to avoid this part… the lead-up is pretty obvious (and related to text messages). Simply scroll past any phrases in italics (in the first half of the chapter). Hope that helps. Thank you. :)
And now: Happy reading :3
xoxo
MLE (=^_^=)
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Finding the will to wake up the next day was a challenge in itself. As long as she kept her eyes closed, she could always pretend that nothing had happened, that she was lying in her own bed and it had all been just one rollercoaster of a dream. She really didn't want to sort through the aftermath of the whole Chuffrey disaster, but least of all, she wanted to face Elphaba and be forced to explain herself. Having supposedly been drunk as hell could only account for so much.
Remembering vividly falling asleep to the scent of Elphaba's coconut-oiled skin, the warmth of her body, and the tenderness of her touch, awakening without any of those anywhere in reach disorientated her for a moment. She wished she could afford herself some disappointment over the loss, but in truth, she was mostly relieved not having to awkwardly disentangle herself from the other girl's slumbering embrace.
Cautiously, she cracked open one eye, then immediately screwed them both firmly shut to protect herself from the bright sun. This wasn't the soft morning light she'd expected. Merciful Oz; what time was it?
She groped around for her phone—first without looking, then with squinted eyes—but was ultimately unable to locate it. Heaving a laboured sigh, she propped herself on her elbows and let her vision slowly adjust to the daylight.
The room looked exactly how she remembered it, despite the drinking and her overall befuddle state. But Elphaba was nowhere to be seen. For a clock-tick, a panicked feeling kicked her right in the gut at the thought that her friend might have left her behind and returned to the Emerald City by herself.
In Glinda's mind, it would have been an entirely reasonable and justifiable thing to do. Elphaba had rescued her from immediate danger and made sure that she was in a save place. Her task was done. Glinda wasn't a child and would be able to call a taxi or something. There was no further obligation to put up with her drama, or her out of place behaviour any longer.
She let herself drop back into the pillows, staring at the ceiling. If this was the case, she needed to pull herself together. As quickly as possible. He phone. Where was her freaking phone?
Rolling onto her side, she once again searched the side table. There was no sign of it, but the alarm clock dock told her that it was half past noon.
"Fuck," murmured Glinda, running her hands over her face, trying to wipe away the tiredness and her shame.
She wiggled her body until her legs hung off the bed, then pushed herself into a sitting position and carefully, almost apprehensively put her feet down as though she half expected them to be too week to carry her.
The door rattled behind her, slid open and closed with a small thud.
"Oh, you're awake."
Glinda spun around in surprise, astonished to see Elphaba dumping a colourful paper bag on the kitchen counter.
"You're still here," she whispered in mild disbelief, and Elphaba turned around at the sound.
"Huh?"
Glinda's cheeks flushed.
"Uh, nothing."
Shrugging, the taller girl began to unpack a couple of bread rolls, margarine and a small tray of sliced cheese.
"I'm making brunch. I hope cheese rolls are okay?"
"Don't we have to check out or something?" replied Glinda.
"Don't worry about that. I paid for an extra night. We have all the time in the world. Except that I'd like to start back before it gets dark. The roads here are a nightmare."
Elphaba's laidback attitude should have reassured Glinda, made her smile even; yet the blonde was still too miserable and too anxious for it all to really register in her head. Her face as blank as before, she simply nodded and looked out of the window.
Clearing her throat, Elphaba tried to reclaim her attention. She held out a finished sandwich to lure her away from the bed and into the kitchen.
Glinda stared at the food on offer, realising that it had been ages since her last proper meal. Still, her appetite didn't seem to kick in. Biting her lower lip, she shook her head.
"Not right now, but thanks. It will keep."
Uttering a soft sigh, Elphaba put it aside and took a bite from her own.
"Tea?" she suggested instead.
"Yeah, I suppose," said Glinda and stood. "I'll make it though. You—you're having one, too?"
She filled the cheap electric kettle and flicked the switch. While she waited for the water to boil, she remembered something.
"I've been looking for my phone. Have you seen it Elphie? I thought I left it in the dock, but I guess I was just too out of it last night to actually remember."
She cast Elphaba a casual glance and saw her stiffen. Curious, she turned around to face her.
"I, um… It kinda went off. A lot. I turned it off. It's in your hand bag now."
"Oh, okay," said Glinda and went to retrieve it.
"Are you sure you're ready for this?" asked Elphaba before she could switch it on.
Glinda stared at her. It took a moment for her thoughts to catch up with her friend's. Her gaze dropped to the inconspicuous piece of technology in her hand, then flicked back to Elphaba before ending up in an empty corner of the room. She swallowed the lump in her throat.
"I guess I'll have to face the music sooner or later. Might as well get it over and done with."
Meanwhile, the kettle was finished boiling. Wordlessly, Elphaba took over the tea-making to give Glinda a measure of privacy as she went ahead and started to peruse her mobile.
Elphaba hadn't been kidding. Glinda had missed thirteen calls, and twenty-seven text messages were waiting to be read. Only one of them was from Fiyero.
The first couple of texts were harmless enough.
'Good morning, sweetie. Sorry for last night. I was a little cranky, I guess…'
'Hey, sleepyhead! I'll go down for breakfast now. I'll bring you something upstairs. Let me know what you'd like to do today.'
'Glinda? Are you OK? It's almost 11 a.m.?'
Of course he was bound to find out eventually…
'WTF!? I just asked them to help me open your door because I was worried sick. But you aren't even there! Where in Oz are you?'
Realising that the escalation was fast approaching as Chuffrey's messages became more and more frantic, and his usually correct and precise style began to deteriorate, Glinda put down her phone. Taking a moment to breathe before scrolling further, she hoped to gain control over the anxious flutter that had begun tumbling and rolling through her. It ultimately turned out to be a hopeless attempt. Chuffrey was far away, with no knowledge of her whereabouts, but judging by the tight coil at the pit of her stomach, he might as well still be waiting on the other side of the flimsy door.
A shaky sigh escaped her lips. Running a hand through her messy curls, she tilted her head just enough to catch a glimpse of Elphaba—who in turn was trying to discretely gage Glinda's mood and progress, it seemed. Perhaps embarrassed to have been caught in the act, the green girl looked away, the shiny curtain of her straight, black hair concealing her expression. Glinda stared at her for a while longer, willing her to speak her mind without being asked. Part of her wanted the naked, brutal truth; had this incident forever changed Elphaba's perception of her? How far had she really fallen in her esteem? They were questions, however, she couldn't possibly ask, with answers she wasn't brave enough to demand. The only thing she could do right now, was to pluck up her courage and stick to the task at hand.
She knew that it wasn't strictly required of her to plough through the remaining messages; it was already rather obvious that Chuffrey's reaction wouldn't be forgiving. Nonetheless, she inexplicably craved to know just how bad the fallout would be. She didn't want to do the man injustice in case he turned out more compassionate than expected. Likewise, she figured that rude words and accusations would only help her to reach closure and finally distance herself from him and their absurd arrangement. It somehow just needed to be done.
Nodding to herself, she unlocked her phone again, bracing herself for a tumultuous second round.
'Spoke to security,' the next message began. Glinda couldn't help but gasp slightly, drawing Elphaba's attention once more to herself. She briefly met her eyes, then pointedly trained her own back on the screen. 'They told me you left in the middle of the fucking night with some green freak.' Her gaze jumped back to the very same girl, but Elphaba wasn't looking this time. 'Sounded like a bad April's Fool. Didn't believe them at first, but they had footage. What the actual fuck, girl?'
"Damn," she muttered under her breath.
She regretted dragging Elphaba into this even more now. Never would she have expected her part in this escapade to be discovered. The method of her escape had seemed so trivial compared to the simple fact of her disappearance. The cause would have seemed obvious, she'd thought, rendering Chuffrey angry, but silent in his embarrassment. By the looks of it, the man had been caught unaware instead and enlisted help. That idiot. She only hoped there weren't any further unforeseen consequences.
'Hey! Don't you dare ignore me! Pick up your bloody phone!'
'Text me. I'm waiting.'
Oz, the nerve of him.
There were a few more texts of similar content, making Glinda writhe in her seat in distress. It wasn't until the last message, however, that she was genuinely shocked.
'You rotten little dyke. Is that why you were so frigid with me? Because you prefer freaking alien pussy?'
She froze. Cold crept across her body as she felt her blood drain. The hand holding her phone shook before she finally lost all sensation and dropped the cursed thing. The clattering sound as it fell to the linoleum floor echoed in her ears.
Despite everything else he'd sent her before, this level of malevolence had still caught her off guard. She might have cared a tad less, if he hadn't insulted Elphaba in the process. Which was her fault for involving her. She tried to swallow but couldn't, tried to breathe but felt herself choking. In the back of her head, a faint, faraway voice was screaming at her, asking how a couple of mean words could affect her so viciously. It really was quite mindboggling, but she had no time to think on it while still in the throes of angst.
Then, a measure of warmth returned to her ice-cold fingers. When her vision focused, she saw green hands clasping hers, Elphaba squatting before her, brown eyes searching her own for any sign of recognition.
"Hey," she said softly," are you okay?"
Glinda nodded mechanically, then reconsidered and shook her head, giving in to a little sob.
Still holding on to the blonde's hands with her left, Elphaba stretched out the other hand to fish for the phone on the floor.
Noticing that the screen was still illuminated, Glinda immediately jumped forward, reaching for it.
"Give this to me!" she exclaimed, not wanting Elphaba to read what she just had.
Her friend cast her a strange look, but complied with her demand.
"Is there anything I can do?" she asked.
Glinda didn't think there was. Right in this moment, she couldn't fathom anything in Oz that might help. She'd just have to wait until she slowly got over it on her own. And keep Chuffrey's words a secret from Elphaba.
"Well, I'm ready when you are. Maybe putting some physical distance between yourself and what happened wouldn't be the worst idea."
Glinda agreed reluctantly and dragged herself to the bathroom. Once she was dressed and they had finished their tea, they dropped off the key at the office, and off they were.
Elphaba said little as she drove, but hardly a minute passed that Glinda didn't feel her eyes on her. She didn't have the energy to look back and find out the exact reason. Her hands were still clenching the phone. Elphaba seemed even more worried whenever she glanced that particular way. It unnerved Glinda that no further messages had arrived in over an hour. Surely Chuffrey wasn't done with her yet. And so, despite her better judgement, she found herself impatiently waiting for the continuation of the drama.
"You still haven't eaten," Elphaba pointed out eventually, reminded of the fact by the road sign of a local fast food chain.
Glinda replied with a slight groan, almost as if Elphaba's concern was becoming somewhat of a burden. Elphaba, much to her credit, barely reacted to her burgeoning attitude and merely cocked an eyebrow.
"How about a milkshake or smoothie then? Something to keep you afloat without the pesky chewing."
Glinda acquiesced, and they took the next left turn for a quick detour through the restaurant's drive-through. Roughly half an hour later, however, their vehicle stood slantwise across the shoulder of the road, with Glinda divesting herself of her drink into the ditch, and Elphaba holding back her hair and rubbing her back.
"Well, that didn't work out as planned," the blonde muttered before accepting a tissue from Elphaba.
"Sorry. I thought it would help."
Glinda reclaimed her hair and smoothed through it with her fingers. Whatever had caused this—last night's alcohol, her distress, or a combination of both—she couldn't believe she had sunken so low as to vomit in front of Elphaba. With Elphaba's help. Just when she thought things couldn't get much worse.
Chuffrey did message her again a while after that.
Despite the fresh bout of nausea, brought on by the notification alone, Glinda hastily typed in her security code to see what he had to say. After a few seconds, she barked out a mirthless laugh and brought up her hand to cover her face.
"Oh man," she murmured, shaking her head.
Elphaba briefly turned to look at her properly, making sure she wasn't going to be sick again.
"What is it?" she asked, her eyes darting back and forth between Glinda and the road.
"He… um… well—He apologised."
Elphaba made a soft, irritated noise
"Listen to this," scoffed Glinda and began to read: "'Hey babe. I'm so sorry. I was just angry and hung over. I didn't mean any of it. Please let me know if you're safe. We can talk about it when you're ready.' The Ozdamn nerve of him!"
"Don't listen to anything he says," commented Elphaba flatly. "He's a proper turd and not worth your time."
Glinda fell back into her seat with a heavy sigh.
"Oh, I know! But how much easier would it be if we could just make up and forget this ever happened."
Elphaba cast her the most incredulous look.
"You still want to be with him?"
"Not at all. But just imagine what he's gonna tell my parents. I wouldn't put it past them to promptly summon me back to Frottica."
The other girl's expression softened at that, and for a few clock-ticks, she remained silent.
"You need to contact them first then," she finally suggested. "You need to be the one in control of the narrative."
Glinda considered the idea, then nodded.
"Yeah, I guess."
She turned away to think and watch the passing cars. The majority of them were bound for the capital, just like them. What if Chuffrey also was on his way back, poised to overtake them any moment in his friend's bright yellow convertible? It was an irrational fear, and she knew it, but her eyes searched the busy lanes nonetheless.
"By the way," said Elphaba, clicking her tongue and pointedly not looking at her. "I was just wondering… Your flatmates aren't expecting you back before tomorrow night, I suppose? Would you—would you like to come over to my place until then?"
Feeling her face grow hot, Glinda lowered her gaze, staring at the phone her hands were fiddling with. Despite the emotional storm she'd been navigating, her heart still somehow managed to find the energy to beat hard in her chest. She knew what she wanted, but didn't trust herself to not make a mess of things. Frankly, she hardly trusted herself with anything right now.
"Thanks, Elphie," she said softly, intently focusing on one particular scratch on her phone case. She licked her lips. "You know, I think I better just head home. I need to work through this experience on my own."
"And the boys will just leave you to it?" Elphaba wondered with a lopsided grin.
Glinda took a moment to respond, remembering past incidents and how they had supported her.
"Maybe not at first," she admitted, a wistful smile on her lips. "But overall, they are less pushy and obnoxious than you might think."
"Okay then," nodded Elphaba and returned her attention to the road.
By the time they reached the Emerald City, Glinda was pretty close to nodding off again, but she made sure that this wasn't going to happen. She pinched herself when she noticed her eyes falling shut and forced herself to talk about something—anything, really.
"Do you think I overreacted?" she asked, too weary to agonise over her words before opening her mouth.
Having stopped at a red traffic light, Elphaba had enough time to offer her a sympathetic smile.
"No," she said simply, though Glinda could see it in her face that she left most of her thoughts unspoken.
As per her request, Elphaba dropped her off at her flat. She helped her unload the duffle bag and a couple of smaller items from the trunk, while Glinda stood there and watched, anxiously playing with the strap of her handbag. The blonde reached out to take her belongings, and their hands brushed. Blushing like it was the first time she ever made body contact with Elphaba, Glinda covered her fluster with a glance upwards, as if she was trying to guess whether Crope and Tibbett were at home or not.
Facing her friend as soon as she thought it safe, she flashed her a self-conscious smile which quickly faltered. By Lurline and everything that was holy in this world; she'd never seen so much emotion in an expression so stoic. Elphaba's eyes stared back at her, darker than she'd ever seen them, or perhaps it was only her imagination. The corners of deep green lips seemed to twitch, or perhaps she was just seeing things. Before she could stop herself, Glinda pushed herself up to her tiptoes and placed a soft but lingering kiss on Elphaba's cheek. Wrapping a supporting arm around her shoulder, she kept herself in this position just long enough to say,
"Thank you. I'll never forget that you did this for me."
Wrapped in a fluffy, poncho-like cape and a thick woolly scarf for good measure, Glinda sat on the balcony of her parents' classical Gillikinese villa. It was mid-November by now, and the air in the northern parts of Oz was always a bit nippier, especially in the more rural Pertha Hills. Her hands were blackened by the charcoal stick running across the sketching paper, layer by layer creating arches, columns, and masonry.
Having had too little time to spare while working at the office, Glinda had mostly neglected her passion for architecture and entirely suppressed her talent for drawing—a grievance she was finally able to address to her heart's content. If only pleasure was the sole reason for her reunion with her artsy side.
Sketches, architectural designs, and even the odd watercolour painting; Glinda buried herself in her art to loose herself. Whenever she was truly absorbed in a project, time seemed to be non-existent, but once she re-emerged, it had magically passed at tenfold the pace she might have guessed. There wasn't much thinking involved either. Most of her pictures more or less drew themselves, though this sometimes backfired.
"Glinda!"
Her hand stalled at the sound of her mother's high-pitched, up-beat voice. She didn't like interruptions, but was hardly in any position to complain when her parents were already so immensely indulgent, rarely questioning her unprecedented eccentrics. With a carefully stiffled sigh, she put down her materials and looked up.
"You haven't had any breakfast," the older woman gently berated her daughter. "Here. I brought you a few club sandwiches and a freshly made orange juice. Eat up quickly if you want your peace; I won't leave before the plate is empty."
Glinda almost smiled at that.
The pair of them were getting on far better that she'd dared to hope. When she'd first arrived in Frottica, she'd fully expected her mother to justify Chuffrey's actions, with her father on the other side, defending his daughter. And then, she'd expected a fight between the two of them, leading up to general chaos. She couldn't have been more wrong.
Far from accusatory, Larena's behaviour seemed to suggest that she deeply regretted pushing her precious child into the arms of an ultimately unworthy man. Of course, she would never confess as much, but why else would she be so accommodating when Glinda, in fact, had spectacularly failed to meet any of her recent demands.
Glinda ate her food in contemplative silence, thoughts miles away, while her mother prattled on and on. Most of the time, there really wasn't any need for her to reply at all, and so her inattention remained unnoticed until the very end of Larena's monologue.
Suddenly aware of the other woman's stern stare, Glinda turned her head and blinked.
"Ah," Larena exhaled long and affectedly. "Goodness, child. You need to clear your head and move past whatever it is that troubles you so."
Glinda bobbed her head obediently, as if it was something she could actually control.
"At any rate," said Larena as she rose to her feet, "don't forget that the Marrelton's are coming for tea today. They will be here by three. Please don't be late."
The clicking of the glass door behind her spurred Glinda into action. Reaching for her charcoal sticks and the half-finished sketch, she had every intention to continue her work. But then, one short look at it was enough to cast out any enthusiasm she might have had.
Irritated, she tore the page from the drawing pad and held it up against the sky, her hand quivering slightly. Her mouth a thin line, she scrutinised it thoroughly, hoping she was mistaken. She was not.
And therein lay the problem with her distrait creativity: too often she found herself unwittingly illustrating buildings that closely resembled places that she now associated with a past she desperately wanted to forget. Yesterday, as a whole, had been somewhat of a downer, but the absolute low-point had been an accidental sketch of the Capris. Or something rather similar to the Capris; she wasn't sure if she recalled enough details of the building to verify the accuracy of her drawing. But details mattered little.
The picture currently in her hand, though incomplete, left even less room for doubt. Without her mother's suddenly so much less unwelcome interruption, it would have turned out a faithful representation of Elphaba's beautiful family residence.
Teeth grinding and suppressed frustration dangerously close to boiling over, she clenched her fist. She worked her fingers to crumple the paper up into a dense ball, then tossed it over the balustrade of the balcony. The wind carried it off course and all the way to the duck pond, where it landed amid the reeds.
For a while, her eyes remained trained on the spot where she'd watched it disappear. Once she was convinced that she'd definitely seen the last of it, she let her head drop into her dirty hands. It had been more than two months since she'd packed her stuff and temporarily moved back into her parent's place. Why was it so impossible to get over the memories of her old Emerald City life, especially when she was trying so freaking hard?
Mr. and Mrs. Marrelton were not of old, aristocratic Gillikinese stock, but descendants of an established business family, hailing from the Emerald City—which was basically, the next best thing. They had bought the neighbouring property off an impoverished baronet almost two decades ago and had become fast friends with Glinda's mother. Highmuster, Glinda's father, tolerated them for his wife's sake.
"How lovely it is to see you again, Glinda," Mrs. Marrelton said once they were all seated around the oval marble in the conservatory, an array of scones, pastries, and sandwiches before them.
"Yes, we take great delight in having her here," Highmuster answered before his daughter had a chance to do so herself. "It was a fantastic idea for her to winter here in Frottica before moving to Shiz for her studies."
"Shiz, you say?" Mr. Marrelton said, looking impressed. "I would have thought your University days to be over, but from what I hear, Shiz is certainly worth the extra years."
Glinda smiled, but had since given up on actively participating in the conversation. Expectantly, she turned to look at her father instead. He did not disappoint.
"The headmistress herself extended the invitation," he boasted proudly, "and Glinda has been awarded a full scholarship. Even though money is no issue, it is an honour to be considered worthy."
"Oh, certainly!" agreed Mrs. Marrelton enthusiastically.
"But what a shame that it's an all-female school," Glinda's mother interjected with a heavy sigh. "If it were up to me, I'd very much prefer to see my darling married rather than overeducated."
Almost choking on her tea, Glinda cleared her throat.
"Well, mumsie," she said, "I'm sure you'll be relieved to learn that there is indeed a boy's campus adjacent to Crage Hall."
"Wonderful," nodded Mrs. Marrelton. "You see, Larena, no need to worry." Turning back to Glinda, she offered her wholehearted congratulations. "What a clever girl you are, my dear. I only wish Charlee would have made more of an effort to get to know you. What a lovely pair you two would have made! Instead, he had to choose this trollop of a country bumpkin."
Her expression momentarily darkened. Her well-stacked bosom heaved with every exasperated breath.
"Just wait, perhaps he will change his mind in time," Larena tried to placate her friend, appearing to like the idea quite well herself.
Glinda was relieved to learn that the young man in question was set to be married in no more than three weeks' time. The last thing she needed was to find herself entangled in yet another one of her mother's matchmaking attempts.
After tea, a leisurely stroll through the hills was planned, but Glinda excused herself, citing some nondescript malaise as an excuse.
Back in her room, she aimlessly looked around for something to distract herself with. She didn't particularly like talking about her plans to study at Shiz, as the topic still evoked too many conflicting emotions. To help her overcome them, she'd resolved to mulishly plough ahead with her blinkers on, her ears deaf to commentary. Eventually, things would fall into place like they always did. It would do her no good to overthink her choices at every step of the way.
Of course, if things had gone differently, she would have done as Elphaba had advised and ignored Morrible's offer, never even setting foot into Shiz. However, when the regrettable Chuffrey affair had suddenly upended her entire Emerald City life, robbing her of every sense of purpose she'd thought she had, she'd decided to throw caution into the wind and turn over a new leaf. Even without any direct connection to Elphaba and the Animal rights groups, she still believed that she could make a difference if she infiltrated the political world of Oz; no matter how dim Elphaba's hopes for her success were.
She walked over to her desk and opened the drawer with her brand new textbooks. The university had sent them—along with a printed hoodie with the school's coat of arms on it. A fancy new Laptop and Shiz-branded bag for it had arrived a few days later. No matter how often her father bragged to others about Glinda not requiring the scholarship; she was still incredibly thankful that she wouldn't have to ask her parents for any financial support whatsoever.
Grabbing the book right on the top, she plopped down on her huge, pink bean bag and began to leaf through it. She'd read the first chapter already, but wouldn't begin studying in earnest before after Lurlinemas. Morrible had recognised her natural talent for rhetoric. She'd leave the fact-obsessing to the real swots.
The ringing of her phone was a welcome diversion. These days, there was only one person who called her, and hearing his voice was something she was looking forward to every single day.
"Hey, Fi! Thank goodness, I'm glad you didn't forget about me. I'd expected you to ring in the morning, same as the last few days."
Fiyero's chuckle was like balm to her aching soul. She only wished she could hug and hold him like she used to. She did miss the actual, physical company of everyone she'd left behind in the capital.
"I would never," he replied and laughed again. "But I was out this morning. Went to the gym with Catanilla. From across the hall, remember?"
"Oh yes," grinned Glinda. "I have high hopes for the two of you, you know?"
Answering with no more than a small, dismissive sound, Fiyero changed the topic.
"So, how are you today babe? Better than yesterday?"
"Yeah. Could be worse," she responded vaguely. "Considering that I had to put up with my parent's guests again, I'm feeling remarkably calm."
"Are they all as bad as that viscount who called last week to ask for your hand in marriage?"
"Oz, no!" Glinda giggled. "I mean, it was a good job even mumsie thought him too old for me. That would have been a proper shemozzle otherwise.
"No, they weren't all that terrible. Just your typical Gillikin upper crust kind of people. I really can't wait to get back among more ordinary folks."
"I feel you," agreed Fiyero. "It always was a stark contrast whenever I returned to the Vinkus back in those days."
"It will be a long wait until I move to Shiz in January, but it can't be helped."
Fiyero scoffed at that.
"Don't get too excited yet. I reckon, you'll find plenty of upper crust daughters there as well. Elite schools don't exactly have a reputation for their amazing diversity."
"True," she sighed. "But I'll have my own apartment, so I can spend my spare time whichever way and with whomever I want."
"Not sure how long it will take you to find someone who meets your expectations. Assignments and seminars will keep you busy enough between classes. Hope you won't be too lonely."
"Well, I suppose I'll miss Crope and Tibbs more than ever," Glinda admitted meekly. "But there's no point regretting anything. It was a necessary break from my old life and I'll figure it out as I go."
Fiyero's reply took a little longer this time. In the meantime, all that Glinda could hear was his breathing.
"You really haven't contacted them at all?" he asked at last, disapproval clearly evident in his voice.
She exhaled briskly through her nostrils, but reminded herself to cut him some slack.
"You know that I couldn't, even if I wanted to," she told him as patiently as she could manage. "I threw their number out with my old sim card. Yours is the only one I've kept."
A deep breath rustled through the phone.
"Sorry, Glin, but I still don't get it."
She began chewing the inside of her cheek again, caught somewhere between anger, defensiveness and guilt.
How could he possibly understand? She'd never told him the entire story. The fragments she'd provided him with couldn't possibly explain her extreme volte-face. At least, she'd made sure that he knew how unwell and exhausted she was, and that this was what she thought was best for her at this moment in time. That was all that really mattered in the end.
"You promised me to stop questioning my every choice, remember? It's already been over two months since I left, and I'm at a point of no return. Please just trust me to know what's best for me."
"I do, Glin, but—"
"Na-ah! No more of that, or I'll hang up for today." She let that sink in for a clock-tick before moving on. "Now tell me, how's your dad? Still recovering nicely?"
"He's okay, all things considered. I'm more worried about everyone else by now."
"Why's that?" chuckled Glinda.
"Because his stroke really got them massively worked up. The succession question is back on the table, and as it turns out, they haven't even figured out a suitable replacement for me yet. I mean, they disowned me years ago, right? Or so I thought. Apparently, there has been no official change to the succession so far."
"Oh," was all she could say at first. Too wrapped up in her personal drama, she'd been blindsided to the possibility that Fiyero might have a grand revelation of his own to share. "You—you're actually going to be the High Prince of the Vinkus then?"
"Not if I can't help it. There must be more suitable candidates out there. Besides, my appointment would be nothing more than a band-aid for the Vinkun monarchy; there's not chance in hell that I'll ever produce any heirs to continue the lineage. No matter how insignificant the institution is these days, it deserves more stability than that."
Glinda nodded.
"Yes, that's true. I just hope… well, I just hope that this won't end up creating another rift between you and your family. Things were going so well, weren't they?"
"I'm trying to stay optimistic," Fiyero assured her, probably making a conscious effort to actually sound the part. "The old man at least is surprisingly chill about it all. Especially considering what he's been through."
"That's good. I really—"
A quick rap on the door forced her to stop short of completing her sentence. She spun around, worried someone might have overheard them. She didn't even really want her parents to know that she was still in contact with the presumptive heir of the Vinkun throne, worried that they—especially her mother—might get their hopes up for no good reason, causing undue trouble.
The door was still closed, and she silently thanked the person on the other side for their good sense of propriety.
"Yes?" she called, and her mother peeked in through a small gap.
"We'd like you to come back downstairs before our guests leave. Please don't take too long."
"Oh, okay. I'll be just minute," Glinda promised before sending her away with a wave of her hand.
Her mother hesitated for a moment, tilting her head inquisitively. Having none of it, Glinda cast her a severe look, and she left.
"Hey, sorry about that," she said to Fiyero as soon as the coast was clear. "I'm afraid I gotta go now. We'll talk some more about this tomorrow?"
"Yeah, sure," he agreed nonchalantly.
"Great. Bye then."
Already about to hang up the phone, she suddenly heard him speak again.
"Sorry? I didn't catch that. My phone wasn't on my ear anymore."
"Yeah, uh, there's just something I've been meaning to ask you."
"Okay."
"A favour."
She rolled her eyes and shook her head.
"Stop beating around the bush. Mumsie's gonna murder me if I leave our esteemed guests waiting."
"Fine," he sighed and cleared his voice. "It's about my, um, my birthday. I reckon you'd like to celebrate Lurlinemas and New Year with your parents before you leave for Shiz, but could you maybe come down to the EC just for a weekend?"
"Oh, I don't know," replied Glinda, already feeling terribly cruel for denying her best friend such an ostensibly simple request.
On the other end of the line, Fiyero sounded suitably dejected, tugging further on her heartstrings.
"Oz, boy!" she groaned. "Fine, I'll have a look."
She pulled herself out of her comfortable beanbag and plodded across the room to where her calendar hung next to the bed.
"You mean the last weekend before Lurlinemas, ey?"
Fiyero answered in the affirmative.
"Fi…" She worried her lip, flipping back and forth between the months of November and December, agonising over how little time there was between now and his big day. "Listen, I—I'm not sure if I'm ready to go back yet."
"Glin. It's been more than two months. It's another five weeks until then."
"I know, I just—"
"Soon you'll be stuck in Shiz, busy studying and making new friends. And me? All alone over here. Come on, you've got to let me down gently."
"You've got a new friend already," Glinda tried in a hopeless attempt to mollify him.
"Catanilla? Not the same. I need my bestie. You're irreplaceable."
"You're a bloody smooth talker, that's what you are!" she retorted.
Laughing, he asked, "Well? Did it work?"
She screwed her eyes shut and counted to ten.
"Maybe."
"For real?"
His excitement was almost embarrassing.
"I'm thinking about it," she made sure to stress, though she didn't think there was much room for her to backtrack later.
"At any rate, I really need to go now. Take care, okay?"
"Okay. Love you."
"Love you, too" she murmured under her breath.
She made a kissing sound and quickly disconnected the call.