Elphaba couldn't bring herself to attend her classes the next day. She couldn't bring herself to face anyone and refused to converse at all, including with Galinda.
She found an old pair of woolen mittens—a long ago present from her sister—and wore them to hide the burn that now snaked up her arm, along with her normal long-sleeved dress. It hid the burn completely. Elphaba hadn't meant to injure herself, and hated hiding it as if she had, but the last thing she needed were accusations that she was purposely hurting herself. She also managed to steal some aloe sap from the clinic, and rubbed a penny-sized amount of it on her arm every five hours or so.
After Galinda's classes were over, she came into the dorm, stomping around, pouring through a book. It seemed that Galinda was more concerned for her roommate then for her roommate's dead sister—Elphaba purposely locked within the bathroom for two hours after realizing this, grief finally getting the best of her.
After awhile, once Elphaba was back upon her bed, cuddling a thin and rag-like blanket, Galinda came to the conclusion that Elphaba's burns would heal slower than normal, due to the fire, which Galinda had conjured magically. Elphaba hadn't known that that made a difference, but Galinda assured her that it did. The blonde wanted to inspect the wound to make sure, too, but Elphaba wouldn't let her, reacting in a rather hostile manner. This caused Galinda to leave the room again, close to tears.
Galinda didn't come back to the dorm that night, and Elphaba was glad. She didn't blame her friend for her sister's death, but it didn't change the fact that Galinda had been the one to present the news, which gave Elphaba slight reason to hold a grudge against her. Elphaba selfishly took that reason, because it made her feel that much better about herself. The green girl knew it wasn't fair to her friend, but didn't care much.
For the rest of the night Elphaba lay awake, sitting straight up, staring at the wall opposite of her. She kept revisiting memories of her sister; times they shared together, hardships they went through. . . .
She cried a little, as most everyone did while grieving, but mostly Elphaba thought. And the more she thought about it, the less confidence she had within herself. One thing led to another, and she was faced with her trial eventually. What was she to do with Nessarose gone forever, not alive to vouch for her . . . ?
After that, though, Elphaba sobbed for an hour straight, feeling wretchedly guilty for wondering about herself when she should have been thinking about her sister. How could she? Faced with the fact of Nessarose dead and wondering how she herself was going to pull through—Elphaba found it despicable.
A few times she considered physical pain, but she had always known that she was tougher than that. She'd always heard of people hurting themselves purposely, and she'd always laughed. Lunatics, as she'd refer to them. Why become the so-called 'lunatic'? She was stronger and smarter than resorting to purposefully causing herself pain.
Eventually, she fell asleep, and awoke to find Galinda leaning over her, watching her sleep.
Elphaba wasn't surprised to find her roommate there, and hugged her as soon as she laid eyes on her. "I'm sorry," said Elphaba glumly.
Galinda sighed. "I'm sorry, too," she said slowly. "I know what you're going through, and feel sorry . . . but I also don't want to intrude on your mourning—I didn't know your sister, so I think myself unworthy to mourn." She sighed once more, and brushed Elphaba's hair out of her face. "It's not right to mourn someone you've never met. I can't truly appreciate her or find reason to mourn beside the fact that you two were related. Don't you see?"
Elphaba nodded, but said nothing, feeling foolish. Galinda didn't say anything either and for a few moments they sat on the bed together, side by side. Then Elphaba muttered, "She would have come to school with me, you know."
Galinda froze, said nothing, and scooted closer to Elphaba comfortingly.
"Then you might have known her, and we all could have been friends," Elphie said, laughing bitterly. "She really was a nice girl. Pretty, faithful, and she often sang duets with me while father watched. He praised her; I faded into the background. . . ." Elphaba shook her head. "But I loved my sister, even though she didn't follow my views, even though we were dreadfully different. Pretty and ugly—we balanced each other out."
"You are not ugly, Elphaba," Galinda said sternly, but Elphaba ignored her.
"She was very religious, just like my father. I never was, so once more I was placed as the odd one out. She also never seemed to appreciate the other species out there—Animals, you know. I never understood why, having had the pleasure of Animal's company throughout my life. I once made a friend out of a Turtle, and Nessarose screamed when she saw it." Elphaba smiled thinly. "She was a little cowardly, I'll admit, but she was always a good person. She always made me feel wanted, and shared the things that our father never gave me." And then Elphaba hugged Galinda again, her smile having vanished. "But she's gone."
Galinda didn't know what to say. She stayed and comforted Elphaba, and soon she fell back asleep again. Once the blonde had tucked her roommate in, she went to her own bed and lay wondering.
She was curious as to whether she really would have become friends with Nessarose. She sounded lovely, but Galinda wondered whether she was really as nice at Elphaba had described. The green girl had seemed almost scathing. Galinda didn't know, but she thought she sensed something foul beneath what Elphaba had revealed.
Galinda had a fleeting thought in the minutes before she fell asleep, and got up slowly, laying a small package at her sleeping roommate's fingertips. In the morning she'd find it, knowing it was the package concealing the present her sister had wanted her to have.
When Galinda got back into her own bed, she thought little, wanting to fall into slumber quickly. But, before she did start to doze, she wondered blandly how Elphaba would have reacted to the little Lion in the cage—the one that Dr. Nitidik had brought in—if she loved Animals as much as she said she did. The blonde fell asleep soon after and never got the chance after that to tell her friend.
