Disclaimer: Gregory Maguire owns everything. Not me. Him.

"I should say you look silly," she said, draining the last drops of lukewarm tea from her cup. "I should say you'll look back on this and cringe. She may be lovely, Boq - no, she is lovely, I agree - but you're worth a dozen of her." At his shocked expression, she threw up her hands. "Not to me! I don't mean me! Please, that stricken look! Spare me!"

But he wasn't sure he believed her.
(Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West, pg. 127)

It was only later, sitting alone in his room, that Boq was forced to go over the details of his conversation with Elphaba earlier that afternoon. For the remainder of the day, he'd gone to great pains to keep busy, finding any reason he could to occupy his mind should her words find their way back to him. In a moment of near-depseration, he's even sought out Crope and Tibbet, his eccentric (and often maddening) partners in crime from the library. But those two knew how to disappear should the need (or desire) arise, and, having run out of options, Boq had finally returned to the solitude of his room.

Now, sitting cross-legged on his meticulously made bed, Boq finally let Elphaba's words take over his thoughts. Of course, Elphaba made no secret that she disapproved of his infatuation with Miss Galinda, teasing him mercilessly when the mood struck her and just plain berating him when it did not. But had Elphaba actually shown him some trace of affection? He hadn't even suspected she was capable of that - at the very least, not towards him. Oh, no. Never towards him.

It was very true that the two had formed an unlikely kinship over the summer. Boq had been drawn in by Elphaba's enthusiasm for Dr. Dillamond's work, but he'd been very surprised - very surprised, indeed - when the pair had formed an alliance, however tentative. Stranger still was the way Crope and Tibbet had been drawn in as well. An unlikely group of friends, to be sure, but as time passed, Boq had begun to value their company.

With a loud sigh, Boq unfolded his legs and heaved himself off his bed, stretching his arms above his head with a yawn. He still wasn't certain what to think of this nonsense with Elphaba - because nonsense was all it was, right? This was Elphaba, after all, about as prickly as they come. A friend, certainly, but nothing more. Except, of couse, if there was more to it than that. Boq groaned and flopped back onto his bed, where he lay staring at the ceiling.

"Suppose," Boq muttered to himself, "just suppose that Elphaba has romantic intentions. Toward me."

Out loud, the idea sounded all the more absurd, but he pressed it anyway. What if it were true? There was always something going on under the surface with that girl. She never hesitated to say what was on her mind, but to Boq, it had always seemed as though she left her thoughts unfinished, as though there was more that she wanted to say but was biting her tongue. Was it really all that crazy to think she harboured some sort of feelings toward him that she had simply never voiced? Boq had never considered the possibility before, but the more he thought about it now, the more sane it became.

The sun had set some time ago, and the last vibrant streaks of orange red were finally fading from the darkened sky. Boq rose and walked over to the window, watching the last of the blue deepen into black, pierced by innumerable pinpoints of white light. There was no moon. From where he stood, he could see the lights from the girls' halls; it reminded him of the night he's snuck over to steal a visit with Miss Galinda, only to run into Elphaba instead.

Ah, so there lies another side of the conflict, Boq mused. Perhaps a conflict more on Elphaba's part, but one could not deny its existance. From almost the moment they'd met, Boq had been hopelessly infatuated with the blond sorcery student. Elphie's roommate. He had originally been drawn to her charm, her wit, and - yes, so it was true - her beauty, but his current musings over Elphaba were starting to paint the other girl in a different light. Galinda was still beautiful, make no mistake, but Boq was no longer sure of her other qualities. It seemed as though Elphaba's words had finally been pounded into his head, andhe was left with little other choice but to consider them. Perhaps there really was so little going on in Galinda's head; whether it was by her own choice or not didn't seem to matter.

Of course, there was also a new side to Elphaba's ever-present warnings against the girl. Elphaba had told him time and again that Galinda wasn't worth his troubles, and it would be to his benefit if he simply gave up the chase. At first, it seemed as though she was simply going out of her way to be unpleasant. As they formed their shaky new friendship, Boq began to believe that her warnings came from a simple desire not to see him get trampled on by her roommate. But supposing Elphaba's words were borne out of jealousy? If Galinda were out of the picture, there certainly wouldn't be any more competition, and that would be to Elphaba's advantage, would it not?

Boq rolled his eyes. Somehow, that didn't seem to suit Elphaba's character. It seemed too underhanded for her. She was far more likely to just be blunt about it, as she was with everything else. But then, this was a very different topic, where everything was more grey than black and white, and one could never be sure what the rights and wrongs were under such circumstances - and that tied back into his theory that there was always more that she wanted to say but never did.

In any case, if Galinda was as vapid as Elphaba always claimed her to be, he would rather spend a day with the green girl's conversation than a week in Galinda's presence. The thought startled him so badly that he almost reeled, and leaned one arm against the wall for support.

The moment passed and Boq stood upright, adjusting his vest. All this thinking was rather pointless, really. Galinda had made it perfectly clear - despite his best efforts - that she didn't return his feelings, and probably never would. And as for Elphaba, he had no proof any anything, and this speculation had really done him no good, for he was in the exact same place he was in when he'd returned to his room. If she cared for him - romantically - it was unlikely she'd act on it. And he would never act on anything unless he knew for sure he wouldn't be making a fool of himself.

Not that he had anything to act on in the first place. Because he didn't.

Boq sighed softly, resting his forehead against the window's cool glass.

"I suppose," he murmured, "I suppose it could be possible."