Chapter Text
You ever have one of those mornings where everything is perfect on paper?
Like, your hair’s curled just right, your outfit is a vision in rose chiffon (with a touch of diamond dust along the neckline), and your schedule is mercifully light? No hideous science labs. No forced lectures with Doctor Dillamond. No Elphaba…
No. Scratch that. Especially Elphaba.
And still. Still. I woke up feeling like I’d been trampled by a herd of Munchkinland cows. Mentally and physically week. Not even the good kind of weak, like when Fiyero smiles at you across the dining hall and your knees do that thing they do.
Nope. This was the kind of weak where everything felt like it was dragging. My bones. My brain. Even my magic, which had been twitchy lately, sparks when I didn’t mean to spark. Floating quills. A near miss with a glass of water that could have made Boq cry.
I didn’t want to get out of bed. Which, as anyone who knows me will tell you, is not my brand. I am a morning person. I am sunshine. It’s sort of the entire point.
But that day, the light coming through the curtains felt too bright. Too sharp. Like the sun itself was in on the joke.
The joke being: me.
“So, big party at the Emerald Lounge tonight,” Daisy said, sliding into her seat beside me at lunch, lashes fluttering. “You’re coming, right?”
“Of course she’s coming,” Pfannee added, flipping her hair like it was punctuation. “She has to. They’re practically naming a drink after her at this point.”
They giggled. I smiled, the way I always do. Like I wasn’t trying to remember if I had an essay due, or if I’d dreamed Elphaba reading over my shoulder again, muttering under her breath about syntax.
“Actually,” I started to say, meaning to say I might stay in, but the boys arrived.
Fiyero first, as usual, all loose limbs and that grin that made half the girls in the courtyard sigh. He kissed my cheek and dropped his arm casually around my shoulders.
“Princess,” he said. “You look like spring in a glass.”
And I smiled again, because it was sweet, and he was trying, and because everyone was watching.
But then…
She walked in.
Late. Always. Book under one arm, hair a tangled mess, sleeves pushed up like she’d been doing something awful like reading for fun. Elphaba Thropp. The one girl on campus who could ruin my mood without even looking at me.
Which, to be fair, she didn’t.
Didn’t look at me. Didn’t look at anyone. Just found her usual spot in the far corner and sat down with that tired sigh she always does, like the world had personally disappointed her again and she just couldn’t believe it had the nerve.
And suddenly, everything got louder.
Boys at the next table laughing too hard. Fiyero talking to me and I wasn’t hearing it. My phone buzzing under the table with two new messages from Avaric (ugh, again), and one from Boq (even more ugh), and one from someone whose name I didn’t even recognize.
And none of it mattered. Because she was here. And she wasn’t talking to me. Again.
Here’s the thing.
Everyone thinks they understand what’s going on between Elphaba and me.
“Oh, Glinda, it’s so noble of you to be kind to her.”
“She’s lucky to have you as a roommate.”
“You must feel so sorry for her.”
I used to let them think that. I liked letting them think that.
But the truth is, I don’t feel sorry for Elphaba.
I feel… something else. Something worse. Something with teeth.
Because when she looks at you, really looks, it’s like she sees something you’ve spent your whole life covering up. And when she doesn’t look at you, it’s somehow even worse.
The worst part?
It’s not like I’m obsessed with her or anything. I mean, that would be crazy. I’ve got boys lining up to walk me to class. I’ve got parties, popularity, power. People adore me.
But none of them are her.
None of them argue with me about philosophy over breakfast.
None of them laugh under their breath at my worst jokes and then pretend they didn’t.
None of them challenge me, confuse me, see me…
And I hate her for it.
And I think I might like her a lot.
Which, as you can imagine, is extremely inconvenient.