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Getting knocked unconscious by a softball wasn’t how Elphaba Thropp planned on meeting the most popular athlete at Shiz University.
It was a chilly but clear Monday morning. The well manicured outfield sparkled as though dashed with glitter, while the red-tinted dirt of the infield was smooth and perfectly compact underfoot. Elphaba loved days like this, just her and the chalk machine, laying lines and enjoying the fresh air. She could watch the sunrise beyond the furthest fence, painting the Gillikin sky in cotton candy pink, orange, and yellow. Unfortunately, the peace and quiet only lasted so long. Once the lines were marked, the real work began. She needed to have the bases in place and the equipment set up before the team arrived. And though practice for the season had only just begun a few weeks prior, Elphaba knew who would arrive first.
Galinda Upland, number 22 on the field, batting average .508. Still just a sophomore, but already one of the best players in the country. They called her Galinda the Good, because she was going to take the Shiz Billygoats to the Championships and everyone knew it. But the worst thing about Galinda Upland? She was fucking hot. Limber but muscular in all the right places, peachy pale with not a single freckle to be seen, blonde, big blue eyes that could darken into thunderstorms when focused, a blindingly white smile. Everything that Elphaba herself was not.
Elphaba was green; a nasty skin condition she’d had ever since childhood. Green and made up of nothing but harsh lines and sharp corners. And though she used to be in shape, that was several years ago before her accident. Not to mention her need for prescription glasses that required thick black frames and a mouth of crooked teeth that desperately needed braces. The girls on the team—the few who actually bothered to notice her—even came up with a nickname for her: Smellphaba. Not very clever, nor very effective since they had nothing else to call her. Galinda had never called her Smellphaba before. But Elphaba had her doubts that the girl knew anything existed beyond a bat, ball, or glove.
Galinda was riding high on her full scholarship and was a superstar athlete. But if there was one thing she wasn’t, it was lazy. Galinda Upland was dedicated to her sport, which is why she was always the first one to practice and the last to leave. The blonde had appeared just after sunup, not bothering to greet Elphaba who was busy setting up the pitching machine. She was running laps by the time the rest of the team and Coach Morrible arrived, using her plastic whistle to get the other girls to do the same.
They grumbled and groaned about having to run so early, but eventually fell into a familiar rhythm. Galinda was joined on the track by two of her close friends: Pfannee Phan — number 7 — first base, and Shenshen Minkos — number 28 — pitcher. One companion was missing, that being Milla Prescitoria — number 12 — catcher.
“Anything to report this morning, Miss Elphaba?”
The question came from Coach Morrible, her thundercloud hair in a neat bun as she sipped a morning coffee. Elphaba shook her head, finishing up with the pitching machine to give the stern woman her full attention.
“No, Coach. Nothing to report.”
“No trouble from those ruffians at ECU?”
“Not yet.” Elphaba flattened a piece of clay with her shoe. This time last year, their field had been vandalized by Emerald City University students. The damage was so hard to fix that the old groundskeeper quit. She supposed it was a blessing, as Elphaba needed the job to help with her student loans. But also a curse, because she was now in charge of keeping any intruders off their turf.
“Good, good. We don’t need any distractions this season. With the lineup this year, we can finally get Shiz back into the winners circle.” Coach Morrible sipped her coffee again, sinking into the warm folds of her sweatshirt. Elphaba tilted her head in agreement, but cleared her throat awkwardly.
“You seem to be missing a player, Coach.”
“Missing?” Morrible squinted at the girls, still running the track in a chattering herd. Galinda was in the front, as per usual. “It seems I am. Excuse me, Miss Elphaba—ladies!” The woman gave a sharp whistle as the group finished their lap, huffing and puffing as they scattered into the infield, collapsing onto the dirt despite their white uniforms. Well…almost. Galinda’s shirt was faintly pink, the only one out of fourteen girls to do so. “Where is Milla?”
“She sent you an email, Coach!” One of the outfielders replied, sprawled in the grass to catch her breath. “She has the flu.”
“The flu!” Morrible sniffed, opening her phone to check said email and grumbling at whatever she found. “So it seems. That means we’re down a catcher this morning.”
“I can catch, Coach,” Pfannee called, only for the offer to get waved away.
“No, no, I want you girls at bat first thing this morning. We will not be repeating our atrocious performance from last season. Miss Elphaba!”
Elphaba pivoted from where she was wiping down bats, not expecting to be addressed again for the rest of practice. “Yes, Coach?”
“You’ll stand in as our catcher this morning.”
“You can’t be for real. Not Smellphaba.” There were some sniggers from the girls as Morrible rolled her eyes, waving her arms.
“Stretch girls! Stretch, we don’t have all day.”
There were some complaints, but the team did as they were told, beginning the process of limbering up to practice. Elphaba heaved a sigh, leaving her work to grab the catching equipment from the dugout. Hidden in the shadows, she paused as a familiar pair of knee high pink socks passed by her face from above. Galinda was in the dugout before Elphaba could even think to move, blue eyes meeting green for the briefest of seconds. The girl didn’t say anything, just grabbed her bat and pink helmet from the nearby rack. But her uniform pants fit a bit too nicely as she clattered back up the concrete steps.
Shaking away the thought, Elphaba grumbled profanities as she dawned the apron and facemask, shoving her hand into a mitt. The girls were already waiting along the baseline between third and home plate, Shenshen standing by the pitching machine winding her arm. Crouching behind the plate, Elphaba rolled her shoulder warily. It was a bit stiff today, the muscles tight from misuse.
“Alright ladies.” Morrible blew her whistle. “I want solid contact from each of you. No bunts, no foul balls, no strike outs. Solid contact or you take a lap.”
More groans and grumbles, but the first batter stepped up nonetheless. Elphaba remained focused on her task, catching whatever was missed before tossing the ball back to Shenshen. Though she loved her field and tending to it full time, it was nice to step away from her usual maintenance duties and play.
Three people were already running the track, having either missed or fouled, before Galinda stepped to the plate. Elphaba found her eyes wandering, taking in the long shine of honeygold braids tucked neatly above the strap of a visor. Galinda had put a piece of gum in her mouth, blowing bubbles before cracking them with her teeth. Pink cleats kicked at the batters box, a pair matching gloves tightening and loosening around the handle of a custom pink and silver aluminum bat.
And right in front of Elphaba’s face, the girl's well-fitting white uniform pants stretched just so, allowing the seams of scant underthings to pucker through. So distracted by the sight, she didn’t see Shenshen wind up for a practice pitch. She didn’t notice the lime green blur flying towards her until there was a loud kathunk! And for a moment, everything went totally dark.
“…is she dead?”
“…I swear that was an accident!”
“Hey, are you alright?”
Elphaba’s eyes fluttered open. Her face guard had been removed, a dull ringing bouncing around the back of her skull. The team was looming over her, half of them seeming a little concerned for her wellbeing, the other half just smirking and sniggering at her misfortunes. But the face closest to her, still leaning over her bat, was Galinda Upland. Two crystal blue eyes blinked down at her from perfectly manicured lashes, fine brows scrunched into wrinkles. “Are you ok?”
“You…?” Elphaba wasn’t sure what to say. Her synapses weren’t connecting and the words rolling from her lips were not what she intended at all. “Are you an angel?”
More sniggers, alongside downright laughter. An elbow jostled Galinda’s arm as she scowled at her teammate, giving them a hard shove. She then turned back to Elphaba, who felt embarrassment burning hot in her green cheeks. She might as well go jump in front of a bus. Why did she say that?
“I think you hit your head a little too hard there, champ,” she said, her brow rising in question. “Talk about taking one for the team.”
“Let’s get you off the ground.” Elphaba yelped in surprise when Shenshen hoisted her up to a sitting position, her head still spinning as she bent over her legs. “Are you bleeding or something? Do I need to call an ambulance? I swear I didn’t do that on purpose, I thought you were ready—!”
“I’m fine. I swear I’m fine. What happened?”
“You took a softball to the facemask and went unconscious for a second.”
“I was about to do mouth to mouth,” Galinda teased, still leaning over her bat as she gave Elphaba the coyest little smirk. “Too bad, handsome.”
Elphaba felt the burn extend all the way to her ears. “I—um…?”
“Ladies, ladies! Back to practice, all of you.” Coach Morrible blew her whistle, causing Elphaba to wince in discomfort. The girls immediately dispersed, including Galinda who rested her bat over her shoulders, pivoting in the dirt to walk away. Elphaba found herself staring again, blinking rapidly and shaking it off as a hand was placed on her shoulder.
“Go to the nurse, Miss Elphaba.”
“I’m fine, Coach.”
“Head injuries are no laughing matter. You go on your own, or one of my girls will take you.”
Looking out across the field, a few of the girls had formed a group and were staring at her, their lips pulled into unpleasant mockery. “No, that won’t be necessary.”
“I didn’t think so. On with you now.” Receiving a hand wave from Morrible, Elphaba dropped her head as she tromped her way from the field. Ascending the steps back up to main campus, she paused halfway to look down again. The girls had lined up for batting practice, their uniforms bright in the fully risen sunshine. Galinda was in the batters box, all pink, white, and blonde as Shenshen threw a wailing pitch. With a distant metallic thunk the bat made contact, sending the neon projectile flying until it was stopped by the back fence.
Galinda Upland really was one of the best softball players in the country, and Elphaba had just gone and made a complete ass of herself.