Chapter Text
Galinda Upland had one lap left.
One more lap until she gets her first win in her karting career. One more lap until she makes herself known for the whole world to see.
The feeling was liberating.
The idea of leading a group of 20 other kids only made her heart swell even more.
The tyres were wearing out quickly as she started to push down the straights. She could see the final corner just up ahead, her heart beating faster than she was driving. Timing the brakes perfectly, she rounded the corner, feeling her rear tyres drift a little too much as she gradually lifted her foot from the brake.
Too caught up in the moment, she didn’t notice the sleek black kart that was barreling towards her. One moment it was only the chequered flag in the distance. The next she sees a blur next to her taking the inside line of the corner and pulling out just ahead of her.
For a moment it was like the world had stopped.
Galinda could only hear her own heavy breathing and ears ringing. She felt the sticky sweat that she was definitely going to wash off first thing after getting out of the kart. The acrid exhaust of the passing kart filled her nose. She could taste the iron from her blood from biting the inside of her cheek too hard. And she could see her dream of winning her first race drift further and further away as she watched her kart pass the finish line just short of her overtaker.
It felt like a lifetime by the time Galinda pulled up to her garage and killed the engine.
Her hands were trembling as she fumbled for the strap on her helmet.
The cold bitter air greeted her the moment she ripped her helmet off her head.
But she couldn’t feel it.
She couldn’t feel anything.
Her eyes continued to fix themselves upon the tyres. The tyres that almost carried her to victory. Where did it go wrong? Where did I go wrong?
And as if the universe was listening to her, the moment that thought crossed Galinda’s mind the sound of an engine just up ahead snapped her out of her trance.
That kart was sitting just a few meters ahead of her. The driver already stepped out of it with ease, calmly discarding their gloves as if they didn’t just rip Galinda’s dream away from her right before her eyes.
She couldn’t help but watch in frustration as the driver moved to her helmet, wanting to put a face to the source of her misery.
But the moment the helmet lifted to reveal small dark braids spilling out, Galinda felt herself catch her breath.
“You’re green!"
She didn’t mean to say it in that tone. Honest to Lurline, the verdigris was not the first thing Galinda had taken her aback. Truly. If anything it was the unexpected bright green eyes that shattered whatever made up image she was conjuring in her head.
But now, those green eyes narrowed and were glaring directly back at Galinda’s own.
“And you are slow.” The green girl remarked smugly.
And just like that, all that admiration and awe that Galinda refused to acknowledge ever existed, evaporated instantly.
“What did you just say?” Galinda challenged, giving her a chance to back out like the saint she is.
The girl, however, decided to ignore all the precious warning signs and instead smirked.
“You heard me.”
Galinda felt her face flush as she marched towards her. Before she even realized what she was doing, her own hands seized the front of the girl’s racing suit and started to push her around in any direction her arms would let her.
“You only won because I slightly oversteered in the last corner," Galinda spat, her arms practically begging her to stop with the excessive motion. “Don’t act like you won by a landslide. I was behind you by half a second.”
“And yet,” the girl’s voice straining from grabbing Galinda’s own suit and attempting to steady herself, “you’re the one who still lost.”
Before Galinda could do anything else, she felt a firm hand grab the nape of her suit and pull her off the girl.
“Galinda Arduenna Upland!”
Galinda felt herself shrink.
Larena Upland pulled her to the side of her garage, grabbing both her shoulders tightly, closing her off from the outside world.
“What in Oz’s name are you doing picking fights with your competitors in your first season?” She asked sternly, eyes boring into hers.
Galinda hadn’t even noticed that she was crying until the taste of salt overwhelmed her mouth. Her entire body was trembling as she struggled to regain control over her breathing.
From the corner of her eye she could see her father approach them, her body tensing up even more.
“Galinda, answer me.” Her mother urged.
“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” Galinda mumbled, avoiding the gaze of her mother and instead looking up at the dark eyes of her father who loomed behind her.
For a beat, there was nothing but silence.
“You need to work on your defense more. And don’t use that racing line for a corner like that again.” Highmuster spoke in a low tone before walking off to the garage.
Larena smiled pitifully at her daughter before ruffling her blonde curls. “Deep breaths Galinda. No one will burn you at the stake for coming in second.”
That’s not true and you know that.
“Come now, let’s get you cleaned up before you step on that podium.”
Galinda barely acknowledged her, instead bringing her attention towards the green girl with—who she assumed was—her own father.
Something was different though.
Her bravado from a couple seconds ago was gone, head hanging low as the man’s stern voice scolded her on something Galinda desperately tried to catch.
“Stop bringing yourself more attention than needed.”
The girl only stood there, staring at her feet and taking every ounce of criticism without saying anything but, “yes father” and “sorry father.”
Her head lifted just enough for her eyes to catch Galinda’s gaze, a flicker of something familiar hitting Galinda before she was pulled into the garage.
-
Elphaba Thropp.
That was the name announced during the award ceremony as they presented the green girl the gold medal.
Galinda stood to the girl’s right, clutching her own silver medal around her neck, unable to stop herself from imagining what it would have been like if she was standing in her place.
She didn’t even realize she was staring until the girl—Elphaba—looked right back at her.
A whole spectrum of emotions swept over her as she held her gaze, struggling to pinpoint her feelings towards this girl. Towards Elphaba.
Regret?
Envy?
Pity?
As Galinda ran through every word she could muster in her limited vocabulary, Elphaba shifted her position on the podium slightly, looking down on her as she brought the medal to her mouth and bit down.
Oh that was the word.
Loathing.