"You…really don't have to do that…" I mumbled, wary now.

"Oh, I know," she sang, shrugging her little shoulders. Then she beamed. "That's what makes me so nice."

She threw herself back onto my bed, twisting to make me face her full-on.

"Now, Elphie," she said, taking my hands in hers and surveying me with an unnaturally solemn expression. "You must know – whenever I see someone like you, someone less fortunate than me – well –" She giggled, switching my hands in hers from left to right and then back again – "- I know, who isn't less fortunate that me? But still, I can't help but try to help them, you know, make their lives little better, a little more like mine. And if there is one thing youare in need of, Elphie…it's a make-over!"

…oh…

…oh…

…oh…

I spluttered something indistinguishable, feet already creeping towards the edge of the bed as it dawned on me what she was going to try and do and now was most definitely time I made a hasty exit –

"- Elphie, don't you try and run away now!"

"But –!"

"- but nothing," she declared, dragging me back to her by the scruff of my dress. "I know it's going to be tough, but don't worry, Elphie. I'm determined to succeed with you. We'll do up your hair –" she caught a few strands between her fingers, flicking them back over my shoulder whilst I flinched away "- find you something proper to wear, try out some make-up –"

"Galinda, please, this is a cause lost before it's even started –"

"Oh Elphie, no," she sighed, jumping up off the bed and hauling me over to the mirror. Oz-damnit. I generally avoided mirrors like the plague, not needing a reminder day in, day out of the bane of my existence.

"Look!" she gushed. "Look at you, Elphie – you've got somuch potential, you just haven't discovered it yet. Oh, I didn't even know you could buydresses as hideotous as that in shops. The Wizard should have them banned, really he should. And those awful glasses."

She whipped said glasses off my nose, tossing them into the wastepaper bin. I started to protest, but she only shook her head.

"Here's what we need to do, Elphie," she whispered conspiratorially, bending up to me on tip-toes. "We need to change their minds, all of those silly, mean students' minds about you. Everyone, even Avaric, needs to see you, you, like…well…like I do. We have to make you appeal to them. Make you pretty, and make you popular. Like me."

She beamed, flashing all twenty perfect, even white teeth. I gave her the most sarcastic expression I could muster.

"Are you sure Avaric didn't spike that punch with something?"

She huffed, tossing a tumble of flaxen curls over her shoulder and choosing to ignore me.

"For starters, we're going to try out you out some new social skills."
"And what exactly, may I ask, is wrong with my present ones?" I queried, eyes narrowing.

"Well," she sighed, and her fingers darted at my dress again, smoothing out creases and flicking imaginary specks of dust from the material. "Most importantly, you definitely need to learn some basics with boys."

I blanched. "Oz, please no."

"Silly Elphie," she smiled, squeezing my hand. "Boys are easy. You just need to get a few essentials down, that's all. Honestly, poor Fiyero didn't know where to put himself when I introduced you two earlier! All you could do was scowlat him, and he was being so gentlemanly and charming with you..."

"Oh, thatwas what he was doing -?"

"Elphie." Now she was the one scowling, hands balled into fists on hips. "Really. We'll never get anywhere at this rate. Now, I want to start you out practising on Biq at breakfast – he should be nice and cooperative. I'll teach you some little ways to flirt –"

"Flirt?!" I almost screeched.

"- and some do's and don'ts, of course –"

"Galinda, please –"

"- and how to make sure you respect each other's dignity and all that –"

"- says the girl who locked lips with her boyfriend of a mere two hours this evening for a good fifteen minutes flat on the front porch in full view of everyone!" I retorted indignantly, glaring.

"Oh Elphie, that sort of kissing is all right," she giggled, and then frowned a little, eyes thoughtful. "Hm. Maybe we should cover kissing too."

I closed my eyes, stomach turning over. "Oz-help me."

"Elphie, it's ok," she insisted. "Really, there's nothing to be so scarified of. I'll help you lots and lots, I promise."

I said nothing, settling for a daggers-glower at the fireplace instead. What a nightmare. Not that I was frightenedor anything at the prospect – Oz-damnit, if there was anyone who should be afraid, it was Boq – but the boys of Shiz were just so…so…immature. Boisterous, idiotic show-offs. And no respect, of course, for anyone who had come to Shiz to actuallystudy. Rude, juvenile oafs. Ugh. And Tiggular worst of all – I remembered him slathering all over Galinda at the Ozdust bar, hands everywhere they shouldn't be, and quickly stamped the thought away, shuddering.

"Elphie? Elphie, are you listening? I said, let's move on to legwear and shoes."

I darted a glance down at her current pair. Oh Oz. Encrusted with lurid pink glitter and spiky-heeled, my worst nightmare come true. Granted, they brought a certain elegance to her slim little feet, but if she thought I was going to try on anything likethose horrors, she had another thing coming.

Galinda was over at the wardrobe, hands delving through its dusty interior. She pulled a small drawer open with a creak, diving a hand inside. It took several seconds for me to realise it was my underwear drawer.

"Galinda –!" I hissed in horror, catapulting towards her.

"Oh Elphie, just look at these," she moaned forlornly, drawing out my one and only pair of stockings – grey – before I could slam the drawer shut under her fingers. One step too far, dearie. "I swear by Oz, even Popsiclewould never sink so low as to wear these…these…these travesteries…"

I sighed."In English, please, Galinda."

"You know what I mean," she sniffed, examining the garments gingerly between thumb and forefinger. "Well, that's something to start a shopping list with, at least."

She tossed the stockings into the wastepaper bin, on top of my glasses. Cursed Oz, she was throwing away half my wardrobe.

"Ok – let's deal with shoes, now. Oh, oh, I know!"

"What?" I muttered, warily.

"Those lovely sparkly slippers your sister has! How about you ask her if you can borrow them?"

"No," I cut her off, frowning. "No, they're Nessa's, Father's start of term gift to her. Besides, I'd never in a million years actually wear them…"

My voice trailed off, heart thumping as I suddenly realised…that wasn't quite the truth. The shoes were ridiculous, of course – impractical, flashy, extravagant…unique…glimmering, mysterious, magical, ethereal, entrancing…

…cursed Oz…how I wished I could push them aside, forget them as easily as every other present Father had ever showered Nessa with, but I couldn't. Pretty things were not for me, had never been for me, but those shoes…those shoes simply would not leave me alone…

Galinda was watching me with a confused expression creasing her perfect features. "Well, I'm sure Nessarose wouldn't mind –"

"Father would."

It was a flimsy excuse, but true, in essence. Galinda hesitated.

"Well, it's not like he ever has to know," she mumbled, but dropped it at the look on my face.

She did still try and make me wear a pair of her high-heels. I refused point-blank, of course, for fear of falling and breaking my neck, though I did allow her to – "At the very least!" – polish my boots till I could practically see my face in them.

"That's better," she smiled, when we'd tidied away the black polish and were washing our hands at the bathroom sink together – or rather, Galinda was washing, lathering soap between my fingers, over my palms, under my clipped fingernails, as though she doubted my sense of hygiene as much as my fashion. I wasn't sure whether to be amused or insulted.

"And let's try and fix your hair next," she chirped, drying first her hands, then mine, rubbing unnecessarily hard as though still hopeful she could make a difference to the colour. Wishful thinking.

Following that, she towed us back to her bed, pushing me down on the coverlet; it was even worse to look at it up close, I noted, with a shiver. Lacy and frilly and flowery and so silky I kept sliding off it and having to hitch myself back up again. Oz, what an uncomfortable place to read. Not that she did much, but still.

"Right." Galinda's voice came from behind me, and I could hear something oddly like excitement in her voice, now. She caught hold of my plait, jerking my head back and tearing out the hair band.

"Stay still now, Elphie, ok?"

Really. How did her other friends stand it?

"Oh Elphie, do stop fidgeting. You've got such pretty hair, you really must wear it down more often. It's such a waste, having it all tight back in that nasty plait." She sighed wistfully. "It's so lovely and soft and silky. I've wanted to have a play with it for so long, you know. From now on, you wear it down,ok, Elphie? Oh – except for sports, of course. Now, that's something we should cover. And other extra activities, just in case."

She hopped off the bed. I stood up and my hair swung forward, sweeping over my shoulders. I raked it back. Such a bother, having it down, always in the way. Perhaps I should think about just hacking off the whole lot. I thought about Galinda's reaction to that – and almost smiled.

"Right," Galinda was moving on already. "Let's do…language,now. Slang you've got to know, and all that."

I choked back laughter. "Language?Really, Galinda? You, teach me language? What – hideoteous and gratitution and confusifying…?"

Her eyes narrowed, failing to make her appear any more threatening than an angry Kitten – that did it, for me. I burst right out laughing, though I didn't want to. Didn't, for the first time, want to frighten her with my ghastly laughter. But also, for the first time, I couldn't seem to help myself.

Galinda didn't seem to even notice. Scowling, she tugged me to her desk, folding my fingers around a fluffy lilac quill and a rose-scented, petal-patterned pad of paper. I wrinkled my nose, laughter fading. Whatever happened to lovely old odourless, plain white paper?

"There – you can take notes," she muttered grudgingly, not looking at me. "Just like always love doing so much in class."

I sighed.

"Whatever you say, Galinda."

That made her smile. She grabbed a pad of her own and tugged me back to her bed, settling down beside me this time. Her fingers flicked at my hair, rearranging a few strands unnecessarily. Then she sighed – why, I had no idea. Her touch moved to my shoulders instead, settling an arm around me. I shifted in my seat, resisting the urge to shrug her off.

"Ok," Galinda was saying, grinning again. "Ok, now, we'll start with swankified…what do you suppose that means, Elphie?"