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“You are so good with the children,” Galinda said.
They were on shift break, huddled up together in the awful backroom that smelt of stale mince pies and other people’s feet. Elphaba shrugged nonchalantly, despite the fact that she had managed to convince a wailing Tiger Cub to sit on Santa’s lap, and got him to stop crying for a photo and tell Santa what he wanted in his stocking. It was a marvel to see her turn the sulkiest child into Santa’s favourite - Galinda was so very jealous.
“I like children,” Elphaba said. “It’s everyone else I hate.”
“You cannot hate everyone,” Galinda said. “You’d explode.”
“I can,” Elphaba said, and sipped her peppermint cocoa. “Well - My sister, I suppose. I love her. And you’re not half bad.”
“Half bad!” Galinda protested. “I am wonderful. I was voted most delightful by the Santa Committee three years running.”
Elphaba laughed. “You’re the worst elf I’ve ever met,” She said, tugging on the pink pom-pom on the end of Galinda’s floppy hat. “You never turn up on time, and you tell the worst jokes. But you’re an okay friend. And the children think you’re pretty.”
“Well,” Galinda said. “To be complimented so highly by the Head Elf-”
“And those compliments are hard to get,” Elphaba said, “You should count yourself lucky.”
She flashed a pointy-teeth grin in Galinda’s direction, and Galinda’s stomach did something akin to gymnastic summersaults. It was so terribly awful to have a crush on someone, especially at Christmas, when everyone was joyful and happy and shared their home-made gingerbread with you. Even now, tucked up in the breakroom, nibbling on a cookie in the shape of a hot-air balloon, Galinda wanted nothing more than to be smiled at.
Oz, she hoped they wouldn’t run into any mistletoe.