The next day, they were back to studying. Last minute nerves and panic set in, and more than once Glinda had to leave their dorm room and take a walk before she started crying. Elphaba wasn't doing much better. By the time evening came around she was following Glinda out of the room, if only to give herself something to do that didn't involve studying. The tension in the dorm was stifling, and it was with great relief that they left to walk to the café for dinner.
Glinda's stomach was attempting some sort of gymnastics routine, and she couldn't get the dates of early Ozian decrees out of her head long enough to focus on her plate.
"Eat something," Elphaba urged. "You'll feel better, you'll sleep better tonight, and you'll do better tomorrow."
"You're not eating," the blonde mumbled.
Elphaba stabbed at a piece of salad of salad and ate it, keeping their gaze locked the entire time. Glinda rolled her eyes and copied her, swallowing a spoonful of soup. Still staring at her pointedly, Elphaba took another bite.
It became a game, matching each other bite for bite, communicating only through their locked eyes, making no noise—except for the stifled laughter whenever one of them missed their mouth and had to try again.
They went straight back to Crage Hall as soon as they were finished and quickly settled once more into their studies. But this time, Glinda's heart wasn't trying to beat right out of her chest. And when Elphaba insisted that they both try to get some sleep, her thoughts stopped racing as soon as she hit the pillow.
There was almost a sense of relief as the exams began at Shiz. Students began talking on the sidewalks and in the cafeterias again as the first test jitters faded away.
Glinda relaxed along with everyone else as she realized that she knew the material. Thank Oz for Elphie, she would sometimes think, writing down whatever correct answer she remembered because of her roommate.
It took her a while to wind down after each exam. Every time she walked out of a classroom it was in a strange daze, with dates and names and equations and theories all spinning through her head.
This was the case as she hurried out of the literature building one afternoon, late in the week. While she was certain she had passed, she couldn't stop mentally reciting bits and pieces of old unionist sermons. As she made her way back to Crage Hall, she marveled at how the teachings of a single religion could change so much over time. Glinda wasn't an extremely devout person, but she still believed in some sort of deity, be it Lurline or the Unnamed God or some other force—perhaps they were all simply different translations of the same being. She had never heard of anyone not partaking in some sort of religion. That is, until she met a certain green girl.
She reached her dorm room and slipped inside to find that it was empty, save for a couple half-packed suitcases on Elphaba's side of the room.
Soulless. Glinda shuddered at the thought of whatever childhood Elphaba had endured to make her believe she didn't have a soul.
"It just doesn't make sense," she said out loud.
"What doesn't make sense?"
Glinda spun around as Elphaba stepped into the room. She grinned at the surprise on the blonde's face. "Hi. How was your literature exam?"
"Good," Glinda replied. She shifted her weight. "But I was thinking…Elphie, how can you not believe you have a soul?"
"You're still hung up on that?" The green girl slid the bag off her shoulder and fell onto her bed. She stared at the ceiling, a mask of boredom on her face, but Glinda could see the walls starting to come up.
"Please, Elphie," she said. "I'm just honestly curious. You seem to think that everyone else has a soul—despite the fact that you don't believe in a god—so why not you?"
She shrugged, but then sighed. "You're not letting this go without discussing it, are you?"
"Nope."
"Fine." She waved a single green hand. "Why not me, you ask? I've already told you."
Glinda sat on the bed next to her and started playing with her hair absentmindedly. "Those reasons weren't good enough. Your mother and your sister—that wasn't your fault at all. And even if it was, there's nothing in the unionist religion, or any religion for that matter, that says sinners don't have souls."
"Ah, but to have committed such a heinous sin from such a young age—that's different."
"I don't think so," Glinda replied, her voice thoughtful. "But what else was there? Your magic—again, while religion frowns upon magic, it says nothing about the magic users themselves, does it? Does it say that I don't have a soul, as well?"
"No." Elphaba reached up and grabbed her hand. "That could never be true. If someone like you doesn't have a soul, then there's no hope for anyone."
Both girls blushed at the sudden intensity of her voice. Elphie let go of her hand as quickly as she had grabbed it. After a moment, Glinda resumed her work on the ebony hair.
"O-okay then. So that ruins the magic point. And the only other reason you had was that you were green. But that doesn't even make sense. How could your skin color—a superficial, exterior trait—affect your soul, or, if you insist, the lack thereof?"
Elphaba screwed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Did you know I've been asked if I was an Animal before?"
"Elphie, that's…"
"What if I was? Not an Animal, necessarily, but not human, either. What if I am a freak, some sort of ugly, bizarre—"
"Elphaba, your skin is a different color. That doesn't make you a different species!"
"How do you know?"
"The Vinkans are all darker skinned, but they're still human."
"Yes, but their skin is still a natural color. And it's not like there's an entire nation of green people somewhere!"
"You don't know that."
Elphaba let out a laugh. "Fine. But that still doesn't prove I havea soul."
"Well, what would you say does prove that? What does it take to have a soul?"
The green girl opened her eyes and raised a brow. "I don't know, Glinda. This is your interest, not mine."
Glinda pouted. "You're not at all interested in whether or not you have a soul?"
"No. But I'm a little interested in what you come up with."
The blonde rolled her eyes. "Alright. Let's see…sentient thought, emotions. Those are important to a soul, don't you think? And you obviously have that." Her fingers scratched gently at Elphaba's scalp. "Dreams and aspirations—everyone knows you've got those. Memories, fears, relationships…"
"Now hold on," Elphaba interrupted. "These are completely baseless. How do you know these are the qualities that make up a soul?"
Glinda huffed. "Fine. I'll start over. And since you seem to think I am the prime example of someone with a soul, we'll use that. If you don't have a soul, then tell me, what do I have that you don't?"
"Your goodness."
It was nothing more than an exhale, two words that Glinda was not meant to hear at all, but she did. For a long moment the girls just stared at each other, Elphaba's confession hovering in the air between them.
"Elphie," Glinda said softly, "Elphaba, no. Why in Oz would you say that?" When the green girl didn't answer, Glinda swallowed hard and tried to find the right words. "I'm not as good a person as you think I am. But more importantly, you are not nearly as wicked as anyone—including yourself—believes you are."
"Prove it," Elphaba whispered, eyes screwing shut.
"I can't."
The answer shocked both of them, and Elphaba looked up again. Glinda smiled sadly at her. "I can't prove it, Elphaba, because the only reason I know is by looking at you. I look at you—when you're smiling or laughing, when you're deep in some new research, when you're thinking of someone you care about, like Dr. Dillamond or Boq or your sister or…or me… I look at you, and I've never seen anything less wicked in my entire life. But no matter what I do, I can't force you to see yourself through my eyes."
Glinda had no idea where the words were coming from, but she knew with all her heart that they were true. She leaned down and kissed Elphaba's forehead, then stood without another word and grabbed her sorcery book from her desk.
"I…need to go practice for tomorrow," Glinda said. She offered Elphaba a smile and, once it was returned, slipped quickly out of the room.
She leaned heavily on the wall as soon as the door closed behind her. Her heart was fluttering and her face felt like it was on fire. Shaking herself off, the blonde darted out of Crage Hall and headed for the sorcery building, trying and failing to turn her thoughts away from the emerald girl still sitting in her room.
"Good afternoon, class." Madame Morrible strolled into the room, looking as ghastly as ever with her stiff, over-sized gown and thickly powdered hair and face. Her lip curled as she took in her students standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. "Now, from what I've seen of your written exams, most of you have done well. However, I doubt that will be the case with your practical tests. Let us begin. Miss Ravyn?"
A short girl with choppy black hair followed Morrible into a side room. The headmistress closed the door behind her, eyes glinting dangerously.
Glinda moved to a corner of the room and sat down, focusing on her breathing. One by one, Morrible called students into the side room to perform spells and incantations. Each one exited in a quiet daze, usually pale and shaking.
She was the last one left when Morrible called out, "Miss Glinda."
The blonde rose to her feet. Her heart, which had been pounding furiously against her rib cage, seemed to vanish altogether. She could feel her palms tingling as magic bubbled nervously inside of her, and she rubbed her hands against the skirt of her dress. The sound of her heels clipping against the tile floor echoed far louder than normal.
The door creaked as Morrible closed it behind her.
"Glinda, my dear. How are you feeling today?"
She swallowed hard. "I'm fine, Madame. And you?"
Morrible's lips pursed as she studied her. "Excellent. Let's get to work, shall we? First I want you to…"
She watched intently, stone-faced and pen scribbling across a clipboard, as the blonde performed every spell she was given. First it was simple things: picking a lock, spinning a top, lifting a light book, organizing a stack of papers. Next came throwing a desk, then changing the color of an object. Morrible had Glinda polish silver plates, dry towels, take the gears out of a clock, burn a fake body then heal it once more, over and over again, spell after spell after spell, until Glinda was breathing hard and wiping sweat from her brow.
Finally, the headmistress set her papers down. She peered at Glinda, but the blonde couldn't make anything out of her expression.
"Well done, Miss Glinda," she said slowly. "It would appear that I was wrong about you. I did not expect you to make it through the semester, yet here you are with the best marks in the class." She looked the blonde up and down critically. "I hope you continue to rise above expectations."
"Thank you, Madame Morrible," Glinda said, struggling to keep her expression blank. It was over. She had passed—and at the top of the class, no less—and now all of her exams were finished. All she wanted now was to run back to Crage Hall and celebrate with Elphaba. "I better—"
"Now hold on, dearie," Morrible said, her voice sickeningly sweet. She grabbed Glinda's elbow with an overly manicured hand. "I was hoping we could talk for a little bit. I have an offer for you, actually." With a wave of her other hand, two chairs appeared out of thin air and landed gently on the ground. Morrible let go of Glinda and gestured for her to sit.
"A-an offer?" Glinda asked.
"Yes. You see, there are always students struggling in the lower sorcery classes, and I've been looking for an assistant—a tutor, if you will. I thought, since you could relate to their…lack of ability…then you would be the perfect person to help."
Glinda felt the back of her neck burning, but keeping her temper in check was something she knew how to do. Besides, all snide remarks aside, this was a great opportunity for her. The only thing was…
Morrible's involved. I don't know what she did, or why, but I know she's involved. The blonde hesitated, remembering Elphaba's words on that long ago day, when Dr. Dillamond had left.
Morrible had never talked to her like this—like she was capable of something—until now. Sure, it was pompous and insulting, but there was a hint of respect nonetheless. But where had it come from? Why here? And why now?
Something didn't quite add up, and although she didn't know what it was, Glinda knew it was screaming at her to run.
"I-I'm sorry, Madame," Glinda said, as politely as she possibly could. "I'm still learning, as you know. I just don't think I'm the right person to help teach others."
Morrible pressed her lips together and studied her. "Perhaps you're right. In that case, do you have any ideas as to whom else I could ask? What about your roommate? I hear she's quite talented, and all the other teachers have nothing but praise for her."
How does she know Elphaba has magic? Glinda wondered. Her heart sank as she realized it was most likely her fault. But wait…Elphie isn't even in a sorcery class. Why does Morrible want...?
"I doubt it," the blonde said smoothly. "Miss Elphaba is focused mostly on history and life sciences. I can't imagine her sacrificing too much time for other studies, and I don't think she's particularly interested in sorcery… But what about Miss Ravyn? She does pretty well, and I can really see her doing well as a tutor."
Morrible narrowed her eyes. A long silence passed between them, and it took all of Glinda's willpower not to fidget uneasily under the headmistress's gaze. "…Very well," she said finally. "You may go. I'm sure you have plenty to do before the carriages arrive tomorrow morning."
"Thank you, Madame Morrible." Glinda rose to her feet and turned to leave. It was all she could do not to sprint out of the building.