The girls grew closer, though only privately so; in public they stuck to their separate circles. Well, Galinda stuck to her circle, Elphaba was, as usual, alone. Sometimes she would sneak a smile over at Galinda during history, or a light brush of fingers when she passed her in the hall, small gestures that no one else noticed but sent a thrill through Galinda every time. They spent nights up talking, mostly about what Elphaba was reading that night. They didn't dare discuss any deeper topics; whether out of nerves or a desire to keep the tentative peace between them, neither knew.

"Are you going to Morrible's poetry reading?" Galinda asked one evening, as she sat at her vanity and applied blush to her pale cheeks.

"I suppose," Elphaba said. "Dr. Dillamond said he was going to be there."

"The goat?" Galinda said. From the mirror she saw Elphaba glance up sharply.

"The Goat," she corrected pointedly, accenting the G. "And he's more than that, he's a brilliant scientist. You should hear him lecture."

"Mm," Galinda said, feigning disinterest. Truthfully, she was fascinated, though she'd never let Elphaba know that. She'd passed by the lecture hall when Dr. Dillamond was lecturing on more than one occasion, lingering shortly to study Elphaba through the window, head bent while she scribbled notes so the tip of her pointed green nose nearly touched parchment.

She'd only watched for a second for fear of someone seeing her, but she was always enthralled with how Alive Elphaba looked during those lectures, passionate like she was in few other subjects.

Galinda wanted to be part of that.

"He's asked me to help with his research, you know," Elphaba said after a minute.

"Oh? Will you?"

"I believe so," Elphaba said. Galinda heard the pages of her book rustling as she set it down. "Are you going to the reading?" Elphaba asked after a minute as Galinda swiped brown mascara over pale lashes. "Or are you going out?"

"Elphaba, everyone will be at the poetry reading. It would be social suicide if I didn't show," Galinda said.

"You're dressed like you're going out."

"Well, one must always make a good impression," Galinda said, echoing the words she'd heard throughout her childhood.

Elphaba cackled in that way she did. "I make an impression, love, though whether or not it's a good one is up to the judgment of others."

"You could if you tried."

"Mm."

"You could!" Galinda said emphatically, turning around on her stool. "Oh Elphie you could be so pretty, we could use some mascara—I do believe I've got something violet that would look stunning on you—"

So caught up was Galinda in her plans she didn't notice the way Elphaba stiffened at the word pretty, even further still at the mention of makeup. She did notice when the air became charged, when the small tube of foundation on her vanity began to levitate.

"Elphaba?"

Elphaba's hands were outstretched in front of her, like they had a mind of their own. Her face was screwed in concentration, or pain, or anger, or some combination of the three.

"Elphaba!"

Elphaba gasped, opened her eyes, and the tube of foundation began falling to the ground, but Galinda reached out a hand and stopped it before gently floating it back to her dresser.

A spark went through her. She had done magic, done it without thinking.

But so had Elphaba. And Elphaba's magic felt far more dangerous.

"Are you all right?" Galinda asked.

Elphaba shook her head. "I'm fine."

"Was it something I said?"

"Please drop it, Galinda," Elphaba said flatly. She gripped the edge of her mattress, closed her eyes like she was trying very, very hard to forget something.

"Elphaba…"

"I don't. Want. To talk about it," Elphaba bit out. She stood abruptly. "I'll see you at the poetry reading, okay?"

Before Galinda could respond, Elphaba was gone, leaving the door swinging and a trace of magic in her wake.

Her thoughts raced as she headed to the library, the only place that felt safe in that moment.

Don't you want to be pretty?

She bit her lip. She wouldn't go there. Not now. Couldn't. She found a back corner of the library and huddled in a chair, breathed in parchment and old books and must and dust and safe. Breathe in. Breathe out. Don't think about pretty or the magic she did or Galinda, always Galinda.

Elphaba shook her head. She knew she should be heading to the poetry reading soon, knew Morrible would expect her there. But not yet. She was still rattled by what had happened, and Oz knew she couldn't let anyone see her rattled. Rattled meant weakness which meant teasing which meant—

Stop.

The voice was her own, and too late she realized she'd spoken out loud. There was no way she was going to that reading.

But then something mechanical whirred by, and Elphaba instinctively drew in on herself, used the shadows of her dark clothing to render herself nearly invisible. It was Grommetik, Morrible's tik-tok henchman. Its gears whirred and spun as it turned down the aisle where Elphaba was still crouched in the chair.

She stilled herself. Didn't breathe. A sharp clack of heels on the wooden floor caused Grommetik to wheel around, away from Elphaba, who let out a breath.

After that, there was no way she was staying there. She gathered herself reluctantly and headed to the poetry reading.


Elphaba was nowhere to be found when Galinda returned from the reading, more shaken and affronted about the last Quell than she wanted to let on. Her late-night conversations with Elphaba had sparked something in her, a sentiment not unlike caring, a fierce sort of tenderness towards Animals she hadn't possessed before.

Oz, where was Elphaba?

She thought of the way she'd fled from their room that afternoon, when Galinda had insisted on her being pretty.

What had she said? Had she even said anything? Elphaba's magic had spiraled out of control and Galinda hoped (Oz, she hoped) that she hadn't been the cause of it.

She'd walked into the reading like nothing was wrong, munching on an apple and plopping herself down next to Galinda like she hadn't a care in the world. Told off that Munchkinlander, Boq, with her usual sass.

But then. After the last Quell, Dr. Dillamond's outburst, she was silent. Head in hands the rest of the evening.

Galinda threw herself onto her fluffy bed, not caring that her dress was getting wrinkled. She was tired, and she didn't want to think, and she wanted a drink.

Oz, she wanted a drink. She wanted to forget. Wanted to pop the sticky soap bubble thoughts about Elphaba so she wouldn't have to experience them.

And then the door opened, and there stood Elphaba, face furiously set.

Galinda leapt up from her bed. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Elphaba said. She shut the door and went and flung open the window, then, before Galinda could stop her, stuck her head out and screamed.

Galinda sat on the bed, waiting.

Elphaba, after a minute, pulled her head back in and smoothed her hands over her dress, seemingly calmer.

"Are you… all right?" Galinda ventured to ask.

"I'm fine," Elphaba said again, turning her back to Galinda and untying her hair. "Fine."

"You don't seem fine."

"Yes, well," Elphaba said. She turned around to face Galinda. "Would you mind closing your eyes so I can change?"

"Elphie…"

"Miss Elphaba."

So they were back to that again.

Galinda pouted, but she turned, though she couldn't resist sneaking a glance in her mirror at Elphaba.

Had she grown thinner? It occurred to Galinda she'd never seen Elphaba eat, save for the apple she'd obnoxiously been munching on during the Quells.

"What are those scars?" Galinda blurted out, then covered her mouth with her hands.

"I told you not to look," Elphaba said, but there was no malice in her voice, just a cold statement of fact. "Didn't your mother teach you propriety? You mentioned she taught you of appearances."

Galinda's face flushed hot. "I'm sorry," she said.

Elphaba shrugged. "I had no mother, I can't tell you whether these things are polite or not. Though you see me, I've never cared for being polite."

"No, I know," Galinda said. It was meant to be a joke, but it fell flat. She ran her fingers through her curls, too aware of Elphaba's hawkish gaze on her. "So are you going to tell me?"

Elphaba sighed. Shrugged. Sat down on her bed and immediately went to fidget with her hair, tying and retying her braid.

Oz, was she… was she nervous?

"You don't have to," Galinda said in a rush. "If you don't want."

Elphaba smiled, but it was a cruel, twisted one. "It's a bit too late for that, love."

The endearment felt wrong, this time, coming out of her mouth. Galinda winced, hoping Elphaba didn't notice.

"What do you want to know?" she asked.

"I… about your scars."

"But that's not all, is it?" Elphaba said, cocking her head. "You asked about Make-up earlier today. About being pretty."

Galinda sat down next to the green girl. Too late she could smell the alcohol coming off the girl, too late she wanted some for herself.

"You're drunk," Galinda said, standing.

"Barely."

"Oh, I would know," Galinda said. "Where did you even get alcohol?"

"Morrible had some out for the visiting lecturers after the reading—well. The human lecturers," Elphaba said bitterly. "I can go unnoticed when I want to, dear."

"I'm not talking to you when you're drunk," Galinda said. Her heart thrummed at the smell of alcohol, her fingers itched to find a bottle.

"Then you shouldn't have looked when I told you not to."

"Oz, Elphaba, do you have to be so difficult?" Galinda demanded, standing.

"I'm afraid that's just who I am."

"Not all the time, no," Galinda said softly. Elphaba laughed.

"Is that why you avoid me in public, then?"

"I… I do not," Galinda stammered.

"Oh, so tonight, then. When you sat with Pfannee and Shenshen, all but preferred Master Boq's company over mine." Elphaba's words were beginning to slur, dark brown eyes growing heavy-lidded.

"Go to sleep, Elphie," Galinda said. "You're drunk. I don't want to talk to you."

"You never do."

Galinda knew it was the alcohol talking, but Oz, it still stung anyway.

She headed back to her side of the room, turned the light off.

"Good night, Elphaba."

There was no response.


Galinda woke before Elphaba the next morning, a rare occurrence as the green girl was usually up far earlier, reading or studying at the library. But not this morning. Elphaba was still asleep, one arm draped over the bed, tendrils of black hair falling over her face.

She looked peaceful, more so than Galinda had ever seen her. The frown that was usually ever-present between Elphaba's dark eyebrows was gone.

Galinda pulled her knees up to her chest and watched her sleeping roommate. What would it be like, to fall asleep beside her, cheek pressed against her back and an arm around her waist?

She really, really shouldn't be thinking such things.

Elphaba stirred and unnervingly opened one eye so she was looking right at Galinda, who flushed furiously. It was like she could tell what she'd been thinking, like she could see it.

"Sleep well?" Galinda asked, when she'd found her words.

"Mm," Elphaba said noncommittally, still starting at Galinda. She brushed her hair behind her ear. "Am I making you uncomfortable?" she asked.

Oz, she did know. She had to know or else she wouldn't be looking at Galinda in such a way. Elphaba shifted and sat up, thin brown blanket drawn over her knees and her arms crossed so she was a mirror of Galinda.

Galinda looked away. "No," she said. But her fingers tapping restlessly on her knees said otherwise.

"Then why are you blushing?"

Was she? Stupid fair skin, turning pink at any sign of embarrassment.

And then, realization struck—Was Elphaba... was Elphaba flirting with her?

"No reason," Galinda said, trying desperately to keep her racing heart under control, and wishing she knew enough sorcery to make herself disappear. "Are you feeling better?"

Elphaba shrugged. "Fine. Headache."

"Do you want anything for it? Water?"

Elphaba smirked. "I can't drink it but it's a nice sentiment, love."

"Anything you can drink?"

"Milk," Elphaba said.

Galinda stood immediately, if only to give herself something to do. "I'll go to the kitchen and fetch some," she said quickly, and then she was gone.

Her heart raced all the way down to the kitchen.

But Elphaba couldn't like her. Didn't. It was clear from the previous night's behavior she didn't.

Still. The way she's looked at her this morning...

Galinda shook her head. Elphaba was tired. And hungover. And still angry from the Quells and the fact she'd woken up looking at Galinda was nothing more than pure coincidence.

Wasn't it?


Elphaba stared at the wall, head pounding.

Oz, she shouldn't have drunk what she did. Shouldn't have drunk it at all.

She didn't know why she did. She just wanted to forget her anger at Morrible, at the injustice of everything, at…

At Galinda.

She put her pillow over her face and muffled a scream. She was angry at Galinda and she didn't want to be.

No. Not angry. Jealous. Jealous at the attention her roommate was giving everyone else, while still ignoring her. Jealous at the easy way Galinda introduced herself to others, the genuine smiles her friends gave her.

(Oz, she was just jealous of anyone who talked to Galinda without snapping at her.)

They'd grown closer since the incident with the window, since the party, but Elphaba hadn't—couldn't—dare hope that Galinda would reciprocate her feelings.

She gnawed at her bottom lip, her pointed canines digging in until she drew blood.

And when she got up, went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror, the girl who smiled back with a bloody smile wasn't someone she would ever want to love.


She liked her.

Oz, she didn't want to think it but the truth barreled through her brain with no inclination of stopping.

She liked Elphaba.

Galinda tried to shove the thought out of her brain but it was no use. The closer she came to the tiny dorm room the two shared, the more it invaded her head like a parasite. The closer she came, the more her hands shook, until they nearly threatened to spill the glass of milk she was holding.

"Elphaba?" she called as she knocked on the door.

Nothing.

Galinda carefully opened the door to their room and stopped in the entrance, struck suddenly by the stark difference in their sides of the room. Galinda's was feminine, frilly, overflowing with comfort and pastel colors, flowers in spring. Rows of shoes sat on a dresser, next to a vanity filled with every kind of magical makeup she could hope to possess. Elphaba's was drab. Not even that, it was uncomfortable, thin brown blanket and one pillow that looked like Elphaba had slept on it for years. Clothes hung in a closet that were nothing more than thin, dark shifts.

If Galinda's side was flowers in spring, Elphaba's was the dead of winter, desolate and barren. Galinda carefully set the mug of milk on a crate Elphaba was using as a nightstand, the inside overflowing with books.

A cough from behind the bathroom door caught her attention, and she turned.

"Elphaba?"

Nothing.

"I know you're in there," she said, marching up to the door and knocking. "I brought your milk if you want to come out."

Still nothing. And Galinda was becoming pretty tired of being ignored by the green girl.

"Elphaba, I will magic open this door," Galinda said, though she wasn't even sure that was something she was capable of.

There was a long sigh. "Why can't you leave me alone?" Elphaba said, voice raw.

"Because I'm your friend," Galinda said. The words were automatic, yet as soon as they exited her mouth, she knew they were true. "And I have your milk," she added. "It's worse when it's hot, so if you don't come out here and drink it I'll have to take drastic measures."

The latch on the bathroom door clicked, and slowly, it opened. Elphaba's face was downcast, hidden beneath a curtain of that thick black hair. When she looked up at Galinda, her bottom lip was bright red.

"You're bleeding," Galinda said, and ushered Elphaba over to her bed. "Oh, Elphie…"

Elphaba didn't correct her on the nickname. She held the piece of cloth that Galinda gave her to her lower lip and looked at her warily with dark eyes.

"Is everything all right?" Galinda asked. Too late she realized she was staring at Elphaba's thin lips, at the hand covering them with the cloth, and she tore her eyes away.

"No," Elphaba said. "It's—it's the Quells and the situation here and Morrible and this school and your awful friends and—and—"

She kissed her. Leaned over and gently placed her lips on Galinda's.

Galinda's hands trembled in her lap. Elphaba's lips were thin, but soft, and when she pulled away she left a faint metallic taste on Galinda's tongue and an ache in her chest from wanting more.

"I…" Galinda said, and she couldn't find the words to express anything else. She knew what she should have said, should have felt disgust, horror, something—

But all she felt was wanting. For once in her life she wanted without stopping to think about why, about if it was right, if it was proper.

And so she leaned over and kissed her roommate back.