Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“You two would make a disgustingly lovely couple,” Milla said, taking another sip of her beer.

The group sat at their usual table at the Ozdust, ostensibly celebrating the Shiz Lionhearts' first match of the season, though "celebrating" was generous, given the loss. Not that they needed an excuse to get smashed. They would’ve piled into the dim, sticky bar anyway; it was their favorite thing to do.

Funny name for a bar , Elphaba had always thought. Ozdust. Like the remnants of a place long since blown away.

Case in point: Elphie, who'd long since abandoned her chair, now lounged comfortably across Galinda's lap, perched on one thigh, her back pressed to Galinda's chest, while Galinda's hand rested at her waist with easy certainty.

There were empty chairs scattered around the table (courtesy of their teammates' drunken seat-hopping to chat with everyone), but why bother, when Galinda's lap was right there?

Hence Milla's comment.

"We get that a lot," Elphaba said, shrugging.

"We really do," Galinda agreed, her breath warm against Elphie's neck. As she spoke, her fingers automatically moved to fuss with Elphie's collar, straightening what wasn't crooked and smoothing what wasn't wrinkled.

Milla opened her mouth to respond, already leaning forward with another teasing remark, when she noticed their eyes had locked in that particular way in which the rest of the world ceased to exist.

Elphie was murmuring something about Galinda's "persistent need to mother-hen everything," and Galinda was countering with "someone has to care about basic presentation," but their voices had dropped into that private register, their body language folding inward like magnets.

Milla’s sentence died halfway out of her mouth. She exchanged a glance with Pfannee, who simply raised his eyebrows and took another sip of his drink.

This happened often enough that none of them bothered trying to pull the two back into the conversation anymore.

“It’s like a sickening gravitational pull,” she muttered to Pfannee.

“They don’t even notice anymore.” He agreed, raised his glass, and Milla followed suit.

As the night wound down, the group staggered out of the Ozdust into the cool night air. The walk back had become tradition; too close for a Lyft, too far to be sober, just right for slightly drunken wandering.

Elphaba, of course, didn’t live in the dorms. “It’s unbecoming of a Thropp,” her father had said, and that was that.

But it wasn’t unusual for her to walk Galinda back to hers. She’d often end up staying the night too, even if Galinda’s insistence was more understated than it could have been.

So there they were, laughing, arms linked, saying goodbye to friends as they turned off toward their own dorms. One by one, until it was just the two of them.

Usually, that felt like a small gift. Tonight, it felt a little... quieter.

Elphaba was still typing something on her phone. Focused. Smiling a little to herself.

A notification popped.

Then another.

Galinda noticed, but said nothing, fingers curling into the hem of her sleeve.

They reached Galinda’s dorm steps before Elphaba spoke up.

"Do you remember that girl from Fiyero's party?" she asked, not looking up.

Galinda’s stomach dropped, but she kept her face neutral. "Uh… no?"

"Remy? Short hair, kind of blonde, kind of cute—" Elphaba added, her smile widening.

“Yeah, sure,” Galinda interjected, her voice lighter than she felt. “What about her?”

"Think she might join us at the bonfire Friday."

The bonfire. Shiz’s sacred post-rally tradition that Galinda had been looking forward to it for weeks. But suddenly, it felt like a dull ache.

Galinda nodded, eyes ahead. “A Vinkus girl at a Shiz party? She’s really going the distance.”

Elphaba’s grin didn’t fade, but her eyes flickered for a second. "Yeah. Guess she’s got her reasons."

They didn’t speak after that. The last few steps to Galinda’s door felt heavier than usual, like walking through fog.

They stopped at her door. Normally, this was the part where Galinda would say something, make up a reason for Elphie to stay. But tonight, she didn’t.

Just silence, still warm but pulled tight around the edges.

“Well,” Galinda said softly. “Night then.”

"Goodnight, princess," Elphaba said, pulling Galinda into a hug, and she let her, melting in her arms for a second before the chill of the night settled back in. "Text me when you get home, okay?"

"Will do." Elphaba's voice was low.

Galinda watched Elphaba disappear down the path, a slight weight settling in her chest. She didn’t dwell on it. It was just... late. That was all.

With a small sigh, she turned and headed inside, locking the door behind her. She peeled off her shoes, left them where they fell, and crawled into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin.

She was tired, more than usual, maybe, but it was nothing. She shut her eyes, letting the quiet of the room swallow her up.

Her phone buzzed once on the nightstand.

Elphie:

made it home. sleep well, princess 💤

Galinda smiled faintly at the screen. Then set the phone face-down and turned over.

It was enough to just let the day end.

**

By Friday morning, the tension from Sunday night was long gone. Galinda had barely remembered that weird little sadness. It had faded quickly, smoothed over by routine. Classes had been brutal, professors relentless, and she’d spent more hours in the library than she liked to admit.

But for every eye-roll across a lecture hall, every whispered complaint during practice, every too-late walk back to the dorms when neither of them could keep their eyes open anymore, Elphie was always there. It made everything bearable. It made everything kind of fun.

So by the time Friday came, Galinda woke up with a grin on her face.

Bonfire day.

The best kind of Shiz tradition. Something about it always made the whole school buzz; people wore nicer clothes, music leaked out of open dorm windows, the cafeteria was louder, sunnier. Even the professors seemed to ease up a little.

Their group chat had already blown up by the time Galinda was brushing her teeth.

Fiyero: is it too early to start drinking

Avaric: never

Milla: i made flower crowns who wants one

Elphie: whoever tries to put a flower crown on me is getting hexed

Galinda laughed through a mouthful of toothpaste. She was definitely making her wear one.

She had given herself a well deserved extra hour of sleep, so that meant skipping breakfast. Not a tragedy. She always kept a stash of crackers and dried fruit in her drawer for mornings like this. So after a quick mirror check, hair pinned just right, she was out the door.

Galinda stepped into the classroom, eyes automatically seeking out the familiar shape of Elphaba. But the seat beside her was empty. Instead, Elphie was sitting in a circle with a group of students Galinda didn’t recognize. They were all talking animatedly, and Elphie was laughing, something that Galinda rarely saw in a class setting.

She stood there for a second, holding her books close to her chest, watching as Elphie seemed completely at ease, chatting with a bunch of people who weren’t Tibbet or herself. Sure, Elphie wasn’t the type to be a loner , but it was rare for her to engage with anyone else in class.

She took a seat in her usual spot and tried not to look at her too much, focusing on her notebook instead. But then, the professor entered, and Elphie shot up from her circle with that wicked grin Galinda loved so much, her eyes alight with mischief.

“You’re not gonna believe this,” Elphie said as she plopped down beside Galinda, her voice bubbling with excitement.

Galinda leaned in slightly, already hooked, even though she knew she probably wouldn’t care about the gossip. But if it was Elphie telling it…

"Do you remember that second-year from the botanical sciences lab? The one with the three lizards?” Elphaba asked, a mischievous glint in her eye as she leaned toward Galinda.

“I remember the lizards,” Galinda replied, raising an eyebrow. Always three lizards , she thought. It wasn’t normal.

“Well. Turns out she’s been secretly growing Heartshade.”

Galinda’s mouth dropped open. “That’s illegal.”

“And rare. And temperamental,” Elphaba continued, her voice practically vibrating with excitement. “Apparently, her roommate walked in on her feeding it crushed rose quartz... and poetry.”

Galinda blinked, trying to process the image. “Okay, that’s dramatic.”

“I know!” Elphaba grinned. “It’s brilliant. I mean, the lizards are just the tip of the iceberg.”

Galinda let out a laugh, shaking her head. Whatever the weirdness from a moment ago was, it melted away easily under Elphie’s grin.

By the time it was lunchtime, they headed to the cafeteria. Milla, Crope, Pfannee and Shenshen were already at a table, so they joined them.

The air was definitely different. Bonfire day, Galinda thought.

Not long after they settled down, Fiyero joined them. They were almost too caught up in a conversation about tonight when—

Elphaba’s scroll lit up with a soft chime. She glanced at it once, tapped the screen, and the faintest smile tugged at her lips. Galinda noticed but it was Fiyero who spoke first.

“Ohhh no,” he said, leaning across the table. “She’s smirking. She never smirks. Who is it?”

Elphaba didn’t even look up. “None of your business.”

“She’s texting someone?” Pfannee said, eyes wide like he’d spotted a unicorn. “Like, voluntarily?”

“It’s a historic day,” Crope whispered.

“Hold on, hold on,” Fiyero said, peering over at the screen before Elphaba turned it slightly away. “Is that—Remy?! Remy Courant?”

Galinda didn’t move.

“Who’s Remy?” Milla asked.

“A friend of mine from Eastfield,” Fiyero said, grinning wickedly. “Blonde, charming, sort of stupid, Elphie’s type, apparently.”

“I don’t have a type,” Elphaba said dryly, but she was biting back a smile now, thumbing out a reply.

“I thought I was your type,” she heard Avaric’s voice behind her, scandalized.

“You’re definitely not my type,” she said without looking up.

“But I thought you didn’t have one!”

“Exactly.”

The whole table laughed. This wasn’t new, Avaric had been proposing to Elphaba on a weekly basis since, well, always. It had become part of the group's background noise.

Galinda laughed too. A little too loud, but no one noticed.

“Anyway, Elphie is flirting with Remy Courant,” Fiyero said with a suggestive grin.

“I’m texting,” Elphaba corrected flatly.

“Ugh,” Pfannee groaned. “It’s always the quiet ones.”

“I mean, it makes sense,” Crope said, sipping his drink. “Remy’s kind of intense and weird in a hot way. Very Elphaba-coded.”

“Shut up,” Elphie said, but not with any heat.

“I feel so betrayed,” Avaric made a dramatic gasp. “After all we’ve been through?”

“We’ve been through nothing .”

“Exactly! There’s still so much mystery between us,” he said with a wink as he sat down in front of her.

Fiyero snorted. “Let it go, Ace. She’s obviously in her Remy era now. You never stood a chance.”

“ Am not in any eras,” Elphie said, finally putting her scroll away. “We’re just talking. It’s not a big deal.”

But she was still smiling.

And Galinda… well, Galinda was currently rearranging the sad elements of her tray like they were part of a high-stakes art installation.

She might as well not exist right now. Or at least, that’s how it felt.

“You've been oddly quiet, my tiny little friend,” Fiyero said, grinning at her. Fiyero was always grinning, but this one felt... specific .

Galinda looked up. She didn’t know why half of her wanted to die and the other half wanted to kill Fiyero.

“I’m just beat,” she said. “This week’s been rough.”

“I hear you,” Tibbett added, blissfully clueless.

“In fact, I think I’m gonna go take a nap before practice. Can’t be dying at the bonfire,” she said, already gathering her things.

She was halfway to standing—

“Mind if I join you?” Elphaba asked.

Galinda froze.

It took her brain a second too long to process the words.

She turned slowly, her smile carefully crafted.

"Sure," she said, the words tasting like ash. "I could use the company."

But as they walked off together, Galinda wasn’t sure if she felt better or worse.

"You're mean," Milla said to Fiyero, who just kept grinning as they watched the two leave.

“Their cluelessness hurts my eyes. I’m just giving a little push,” he said, winking.

“Well, depending on how the night goes, Galinda might ask yo u to give her a little push,” Pfannee said.

“Yeah, off a cliff,” Crope added, and they burst into laughter.

Chapter Text

The day had gone by fast, between taking a nap, going to practice, and then taking another nap while waiting for Milla and Shen to arrive, it was suddenly time to head to the bonfire.

Galinda’s wardrobe was usually a sea of pink, and normally she’d reach for something along those lines.

But not tonight.

Tonight, she chose a long-sleeve sheer black mesh top layered over a black bralette, paired with faux leather pants. She finished the look with chunky boots, practical enough for a party in the woods, at least.

The bonfire was always a bit of a dilemma. Technically, it happened in the woods, but Shiz kids were far too preppy to actually dress for the occasion. Somehow, it always turned into a parade of people in their finest clothes stomping through the mud.

Not that Galinda ever had trouble dressing well. She couldn’t dress poorly if she tried.

One last look in the mirror, a small adjustment to her silver “G” necklace, and just like that, she was ready to go.

Apparently, so was everyone else. She had barely turned around to check on Milla and Shen when a knock sounded at the door.

She opened it to find the boys already waiting. The dorm behind them was buzzing, music spilling into the hallway, people shouting last-minute plans, the scent of perfume and anticipation thick in the air.

“Wow,” Galinda said, her voice warm with delight. “Don’t we all look dangerously good tonight?”

Crope did a full spin on cue, arms out like he was modeling his plaid pants. “It’s the bonfire, G, not fashion week.”

“Well, it could be,” Fiyero said, appearing from behind them, unfairly stunning in an open linen shirt and tailored black trousers. Though, of course, it wasn’t really the clothes that made him stunning, it was just him.

“Dressed to kill, Miss Galinda,” he said, taking her hand with exaggerated charm and spinning her playfully.

She laughed, easy and light. “Can’t help it if we’re all overachievers.”

And just like that, they were off, swept into the current of Shiz nightlife.

The bonfire was technically within Shiz grounds, but only just, tucked deep into the woods, past the trimmed hedges and stone paths where order ended and recklessness began.

It wasn’t officially allowed, of course, but it had been happening long enough for the headmaster to pretend not to know, and the students to pretend they weren’t the ones lighting things on fire.

They hadn’t even made it to the clearing yet when the music hit them. Something loud and pulsing, synthy and fast, with a beat that made people walk faster without realizing.

By the time they arrived, the party was already in full swing. The bonfire blazed in the center, flames licking the air and casting long, flickering shadows over the sea of people. It was chaos in the best way: people dancing on makeshift platforms, someone spinning poi with LED lights, laughter echoing from every direction. The crowd pulsed like one living, breathing thing, moving with the music, fueled by cheap drinks and end-of-week adrenaline.

And somewhere in the mess of it all, Elphie was supposed to be waiting.

As if reading Galinda’s mind, Tibbet spoke up. “Elphaba said she’s getting drinks beside… the tree that looks like a melting giraffe...’” he said, squinting at his phone. “Well, that’s enlightening.”

“Here, she sent a photo,” Milla added, holding out her screen. And somehow, against all odds, the tree did look like a melting giraffe.

“There it is,” Shen said, pointing through the crowd. “Tragically majestic. Just like Elphaba.”

Galinda rolled her eyes but couldnt help the little jolt of anxiety that ran through her body, she tried to ignore it though.

They entered the crowd and soon enough found Elphaba, leaning casually against the infamous giraffe-tree.

Alone.

She looked almost inconveniently good.

Dark, wide-legged trousers hung just right on her, paired with a crisp white button-up shirt half-tucked and a knitted charcoal vest layered over it. Her long braids were pulled back loosely, a few strands catching the firelight, giving her that sort of composed chaos that made it hard to look away. A pair of worn-in leather loafers completed the look, effortless and intentional all at once.

She raised her chin slightly in acknowledgment as they approached.

“There she is,” Galinda said, louder than necessary, mostly to distract herself.

Elphaba arched a brow. “Took you long enough.”

“We had to consult a giraffe,” Shenshen replied.

“Yeah, speaking of it, weren’t you here grabbing drinks?” Avaric asked, and as if summoned, a girl appeared from behind Elphaba, two drinks in hand.

“Here it is—oh.” She froze mid-step, catching sight of the suddenly large group that hadn’t been there a minute ago. “Hi.”

Oh.

“Guys, this is Remy. I think most of you already know her, but still,” Elphaba said, sounding mildly mortified.

Remy was a bit shorter than Elphie, with a soft, easy smile. She wore a loose army-green jacket over a cropped tank top and black jeans, her short curls half pinned back while the rest fell into her face. She handed Elphaba her drink and offered the group a small wave.

“Remy!” Fiyero lit up, stepping forward to give her a hug. “You haven’t changed a bit in this one whole month we’ve been apart.”

She hugged him back easily, “You neither, still dressed like a brochure for study abroad in Florence.”

“Thank you,” he said proudly.

There were greetings all around, Crope gave her a little salute, Milla squealed and complimented her earrings, and Avaric tried to act like he didn’t care but absolutely did.

Galinda, however, stood just slightly behind the others, smiling politely as she took a sip from the drink Fiyero had handed her. She wasn’t even curious where it had come from, considering they had just arrived, but right now, she couldn’t care less.

Elphaba didn’t know why she was suddenly feeling anxious. Everything was fine, the group was being nice to Remy, surprisingly well-behaved even, which counted for a lot.

But still, there was a discomfort behind her ribs she couldn’t quite name

Her gaze drifted, almost involuntarily, across the crowd, skimming past faces until they landed on Galinda. The chaos that surrounded them was a blessing in disguise, granting her a moment to just... observe.

Galinda, effortlessly pretty, so much so that Elphaba forgot the noise of the party for a second. She couldn't help but notice the way the firelight danced across her features, how her smile seemed to light up the entire space, how ridiculously beautiful she was without even trying.

And, just like that, the tightness in her chest gave way to something else. She took a deep breath.

"Hey," Elphaba said, stepping forward, reaching out for a hug.

"Hey," Galinda replied simply, hugging her back, allowing herself to relax into it for a moment.

Elphie had noticed the blonde being a bit monosyllabic throughout the day, but didn’t question it. She knew Galinda would tell her if something was wrong.

They pulled apart, and Elphaba tilted her head, giving Galinda a quick once-over. “You look… not-pink.”

“Excuse me?”

Elphaba gestured vaguely at her outfit. “Is that—black? I didn’t even know you owned black clothing. Should I be worried?”

Galinda gasped in mock offense. “I’ll have you know this is eggplant. And yes, it’s on purpose. It’s called range.”

“Mmm,” Elphaba said, pretending to consider. “Feels like betrayal.”

“Well, then what do you call you being here before everyone else? At a party. Voluntarily. That’s suspicious behavior, Elphie. Highly out of character.”

“I was thirsty,” Elphaba said flatly.

Galinda burst into a soft laugh, the weird tightness in her chest easing already. Elphaba always managed that, disarming her with one deadpan line and a look that made her feel like they were the only two people in the room.

“You’ve changed,” Galinda said lightly, giving Elphaba a playful nudge.

“Maybe,” Elphaba replied, shrugging. “But you changed first.”

The air between them warmed. The tension that had been coiled inside Galinda slowly began to dissolve. She felt like herself again.

But no, not quite. She felt like herself with Elphaba. And that was different.

But then—

“Hey, you two,” Remy said, reappearing like a perfectly-timed plot twist. She smiled, easy and confident, her drink already halfway gone.

Galinda's smile faltered for just a second.

“Remy,” Elphaba said, stepping slightly aside so she could be part of the conversation. “Galinda, did you meet—?”

“We met,” Galinda said quickly, lifting her cup to her lips. “Briefly.”

Remy nodded, friendly. “Nice to see you again.”

“Likewise,” Galinda replied smoothly. She tilted her cup back and drained the rest of her drink like it was a performance review she was ready to put behind her.

She smiled politely, eyes already scanning the crowd. “I’m going to go grab another,” she announced, setting the empty cup on a stump nearby. “Back in a sec.”

Elphaba turned slightly, brows pinching. “You just—”

But Galinda was already slipping into the crowd.

And just like that, she had decided: she was going to get drunk.

Not in the tragic, falling-apart kind of way. Just… lightheaded enough to forget the weird ache in her chest that had returned like it never left.

Enough to stop wondering what Elphaba and Remy had talked about before she got there.

Enough to stop looking.

And she knew just the right person to do it with.

She spotted them and strode over with purpose.

“I’m stealing your man,” she announced to Fiyero, grabbing Avaric by the wrist and dragging him off before either could react.

“As much as I appreciate being dragged around by beautiful women,” Avaric said, laughing as he kept up, “what’s going on?”

“This is a proposal,” Galinda declared, already pouring two shots of whatever bottle was within reach. One for him. One for her. “You, me, as many shots as we can take.”

She handed him the drink with a grin. “So, till death do us part?”

“Hell yeah,” he grinned, raising his cup. "But let’s maybe skip the dying part.”

And just like that, they drank.

Turns out they couldn’t take much, but they lost count anyway. Now they were by the bonfire, deep in the crowd, dancing to the beat of whatever was playing.

Avaric was the perfect wingman: fun, up for anything, zero questions asked.

Galinda was already tipsy, okay, more than tipsy. So when Fiyero showed up out of nowhere, she threw herself into his arms.

“Yero!” she squealed, dragging out the name like a song. “Where have you been, we’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, my love,” he said, catching her easily in a hug.

“Fiyero!” Avaric added, not quite as tipsy but definitely not sober.

“Ace, my boy, you alright?” Fiyero grinned, giving him a once-over.

“Much better now that you’re here,” Avaric replied, pulling him into a hug.

Fiyero would never let it show, but he was a little concerned. Especially about Galinda. He could tell this wasn’t just another night for her.

And Avaric, who’d known him long enough to read through the cracks in his unshakable confidence, could tell.

He leaned toward Galinda.

“G, this bonfire’s roasting me. Want to grab some water?”

“Sure! But not for too long, I wanna go back to dancing,” she said easily.

The three of them slipped out of the crowd.

Once they were a few steps away and Galinda had wandered ahead, Avaric pulled Fiyero aside.

“Hey. I’ve got her, okay? I know something’s off. I won’t let her do anything stupid.”

Fiyero nodded. “If you want to switch turns later, just let me know.”

Galinda caught part of the exchange. Enough to get the vibe, not the meaning. And in her current state, it definitely sounded like Fiyero was trying to poach her wingman.

She spun on her heel and inserted herself between them.

“Don’t you dare steal Ace from me,” she said, jabbing a finger in mock-accusation.

Fiyero laughed, raising both hands in surrender. “I wouldn’t dream of it, babe.”

He leaned in just slightly, lowering his voice like it was a secret just for her. “Besides, I heard Baela’s been looking for me.”

With a wink and a grin, he backed away into the crowd, leaving Galinda victorious.

They found a quieter spot near the drink table, Galinda leaned against the edge, holding her cup of water like it was some sort of sacred relic.

“Ugh, why does water taste so good right now,” she muttered, eyes half-lidded as she took another long sip.

“Because you’ve had, like, too many of whatever that was,” Avaric said, gently nudging her shoulder.

“Rude,” she replied, though it came with a giggle.

Her skin was buzzing, her thoughts syrupy and sweet. She felt good. Like, really good. Everything was soft and golden and safe. Ace beside her, the music close enough to feel. She was floaty and full of something she couldn’t name.

And the weirdest part? She wasn’t even thinking about Elphaba.

Well, she was, obviously. Because she was always somewhere in the back of her mind, like a book half open on her nightstand. But Galinda wasn’t bothered that she was gone. Not right now. Not when everything inside her felt so high, so full, so—

She should’ve been here.

That was the thing.

Elphaba should have been here with her. Getting wrecked with her and Ace, dancing and shouting over the music, though she probably wouldn't do that.

But she wasn’t.

And Galinda didn’t even know when she’d disappeared. Which felt like the kind of detail you’d notice even about someone who didn’t matter. Except, Elphaba wasn’t that. She wasn’t not-important.

Galinda took another sip and tried not to chase that feeling down the rabbit hole.

But after a beat, she turned to Avaric, squinting at him like he might have hidden answers in his perfect cheekbones.

“Do you know where everyone else is?”

Avaric lifted an eyebrow. “How would I know? I’ve been right here with you the whole time.”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know, you’re taller or whatever. Maybe you’ve seen them from your majestic vantage point.”

He sighed dramatically. “Aren’t you just lucky to have me?” he said, flashing a grin.

Then, without missing a beat, he listed:

“Crope and Tibbett were still loitering around the melted giraffe tree last I saw. Milla and Shenshen were sitting on the other side of the fire with some girls I didn’t recognize. Fiyero's probably off with Baela, and I’m like... 98% sure Pfannee’s making out with someone behind that bush," he pointed with his head.

Galinda laughed, tossing her hair. “Oh Ace, I'm the luckiest.”

But then, because she couldn’t help herself—

“What about Elphie?”

She tried to sound breezy about it, like it didn’t matter.

Avaric paused, thoughtful. “Haven’t seen her since we left the giraffe tree. Her or Remy.”

She didn't answer that. Avaric didn't say anything either.

They lingered near the drinks table, sipping water like it might magically sober them up.

But the moment had cooled.

The music was still loud, the fire still warm, but something had shifted.

That was when Galinda noticed her.

A girl across the way. Watching Avaric with very clear interest.

Galinda elbowed him gently. “Ace. You’re being stared at.”

“What?”

She nodded in the girl’s direction. “She’s cute. And trying very hard not to be obvious.”

Avaric laughed. “Please, we're on a mission here, I can’t be seduced mid-mission!”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” Galinda said, swatting his arm. “I’m not letting you waste a perfect opportunity just because I’m feeling temporarily tragic.”

He hesitated, looking genuinely torn. “Are you sure? I don’t want to leave you alone.”

She smiled, tipsy and sincere. “I’ll be fine. I’ll head to the giraffe tree with Crope and Tibbett. It’s just over there.”

Avaric squinted toward the firelight. “You sure?”

“I’m not that far gone,” she said, giving him a push. “Go.”

He gave her one last look, as if silently promising to find her later, and then, finally, started walking toward the girl.

Galinda turned toward the giraffe tree, letting the music guide her steps as the bonfire crackled behind her.

She was halfway there when—

“Galinda?”

She stopped.

Elphaba was standing just a few feet away, caught in the same moment like a ghost stepping out of smoke. Her face unreadable.

Galinda lit up the moment she saw her.

“Elphie!” she gasped, practically bouncing as she stumbled a step closer. “There you are, where have you been?”

Elphaba didn’t even get a word in before Galinda continued, grabbing her wrist like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Come on, come on, we’re dragging Crope and Tibbett to dance. Ace found a girl, it was adorable, I was so proud—” She was electric. Giddy. Her words overlapping like waves.

But Elphaba wasn’t matching her energy. Her eyes were steady, lips pressed into a neutral line.

Her confidence wavered for a split second. “What?”

“I’m taking off,” Elphaba said with a gentle voice. Too gentle.

Galinda’s hand dropped from her wrist. “What? Why?”

“Remy’s not feeling great,” Elphaba explained. “Splitting headache, apparently. She wants to leave, so…”

Galinda’s stomach twisted before her brain caught up. “So you’re going with her”

Elphaba nodded, something unreadable flickering behind her eyes. “Yeah.”

Galinda’s smile sharpened, just a touch too polished. “Wow. That’s very... considerate of you.”

Elphaba’s head tilted, catching the change in tone. “She’s not feeling well.”

“Right,” Galinda said, almost too brightly. “And that requires you personally to escort her home?”

Elphaba flinched. “She asked.”

Galinda gave a short, bitter laugh. “Of course she did,” she muttered, the words escaping before she could stop them. Her hand tightened briefly around the cup she was holding.

“I don’t understand what this is,” Elphaba said quietly. “Are you… mad?”

“Mad? I’m not mad, Elphie,” she began, too quickly. “But you disappeared all night, and now you're telling me you’re leaving?”

“I didn’t mean to vanish, Remy—” she tried

“So I’ve heard,” Galinda cut in, voice sharp. Then, quieter: “It’s fine, Elphie. Just go.”

Her eyes dropped, suddenly focusing on her shoes like they were more interesting than any of this.

Elphaba didn’t move.

“Go,” Galinda said again, backing off half a step. “She’s waiting, isn’t she?”

She didn’t know why Galinda was being like this.

But more than that, she didn’t know why it hurt.

Elphaba hesitated, long enough for Galinda to almost glance back at her. She didn’t.

Then, quietly, Elphaba nodded. “Okay. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Galinda echoed, already turning away.

She didn’t watch her leave.

She didn’t breathe, either.

**

The ride home was quiet. Elphaba was quiet.

She’d ordered a car to take them to Remy’s house. Soon enough, they were pulling up in front of her doorway.

“Thanks for bringing me home,” Remy said as she unbuckled her seatbelt.

“Don’t mention it. What kind of person would I be if I left a pretty lady to fend for herself in the middle of the woods?” Elphaba replied, forcing a grin. She was aiming for charming, it must’ve worked, because Remy flushed.

“Well, tell your friends I’m sorry too,” Remy added. “For kidnapping you, I mean.”

“You’re alright. They probably won’t even notice I’m gone,” Elphaba said. But as the words left her mouth, she felt a small pinch under her ribs.

Remy gave her a look, studiying her for a beat.

“That friend of yours seemed kind of upset,” she said.

Elphaba didn’t see it coming, but she recovered quickly.

“Who, Galinda?” she asked, feigning casual. Remy nodded.

“No, not at all. She was just drunk. She can be a handful when she drinks,” Elphaba said, a little too quickly.

The pinch came back sharper this time.

She didn’t like lying.

She especially didn’t like lying about Galinda.

She didn’t like this whole situation with Galinda.

She didn’t like—

“If you say so,” Remy said, not pushing, but clearly unconvinced.

Elphaba stared ahead, her mind was somewhere else entirely.

Then Remy’s voice cut in again, softer this time.

“Hey,” she said, drawing Elphaba’s attention back to the present. “Just because we’re not at the party doesn’t mean the night has to end.”

She offered a small, suggestive smile.
“Wanna come in?”

**

“Make yourself at home,” Remy said as they stepped inside.

“Nice house you’ve got,” Elphaba replied, giving the space a quick once-over.

“Thanks. My parents designed it themselves, they’re architects,” Remy said as she slipped off her coat. Elphaba followed suit.

“No way, really?” Elphaba said, genuinely impressed. “That’s pretty cool.”

“Yeah, I think so too.” Remy glanced out the window with a slight frown. “Uh, the driver isn’t leaving. Should we be worried?”

Elphaba followed her gaze. The car was still idling out front.

“Oh—no. Actually, that’s my family’s driver,” she said, trying to sound casual. But even she could hear how stiff it came out.

“What? When you said you ordered a car I thought you meant, like, a Lyft or something,” Remy laughed, she looked both surprised and amused.

“Yeah… if it were up to me, it would’ve been. But my father likes to have everything his way,” Elphaba said, with a short, dismissive wave.

She didn’t like talking about her family, didn’t like sounding like one of those people with “rich kid problems.”

The only person she really talked to about that stuff was, well... Galinda.

“Actually, I should probably tell him to go home,” she added, reaching into her pocket. “Thanks for the reminder.”

A beat later, they both watched the car pull away down the street.

“I’m gonna grab some medicine and some water, but make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back,” Remy said, disappearing into the house.

Elphaba sank onto the couch.

She had decided to stay. She could use a distraction.

Though using Remy as one didn’t exactly make her feel any better.
 
Her mind wouldn’t stop spiraling, dragging her back to the party, back to Galinda, back to that moment that still didn’t make any sense no matter how many times she tried to replay it.

She didn't understand why Galinda had gotten so upset.

Was it because of Remy?

Galinda didn’t even know Remy. She’d barely seen them speak. It’s not like Remy had done anything, certainly not anything offensive. It wasn’t like she’d kicked Galinda’s puppy or anything.

She accused her of disappearing, but Galinda had disappeared first. One minute they were talking, and the next, she was gone. Like a criminal fleeing the scene.

And it’s not like she needed Elphaba around to have a good time. Elphaba had caught glimpses of her throughout the night. Laughing and twirling, draped around Avaric like he was the center of the universe.

She looked... good. Better than good. Radiant.

Not like someone who’d missed her.

So then, why the sudden outburst?

Gods, she hated fighting. Especially with Galinda. It rarely ever happened. Things between them were always... easy.

Until tonight.

"If you keep thinking this hard you're going to break something,” Remy called from the kitchen.

That pulled Elphaba out of the whirlpool of her thoughts. She looked up just in time to catch the glass of water being offered to her.

"Here," Remy said with a soft smile.

"Thanks," Elphaba replied, trying for lightness, but it came out somewhere in the realm of tired amusement.

Remy plopped down beside her on the couch, grabbing the TV remote like she meant business.

"So," she said, glancing at Elphaba with an eyebrow raised, "Clueless or The Virgin Suicides. Pick your poison.”

"Those sound like actual poison," Elphaba said with a laugh. "Here," she said, grabbing the remote. "Let me show you what a real movie looks like."

She quickly searched for the film and, thankfully, Remy had the streaming service where it was available.

"You're up here with a horror movie?" Remy said, squinting at the screen. "I don't know if I can handle it, honestly."

"Come on, it's not really that scary," Elphaba said, trying to downplay it. "It's more about the jump scares, but you'll sleep just fine at night."

"As long as I get to hide in your neck," Remy said, her voice dropping low.

Elphaba caught the shift in Remy’s tone, that pull she couldn’t ignore.

She shifted closer on the couch, her eyes locking with Remy’s, a flicker of challenge in her gaze.

"Why do you think I picked a scary movie in the first place?" she teased, her voice low and playful.

"Oh, she has her tricks," Remy smirked. "I bet you do that with every girl."

"Not every girl, no," Elphaba said, her smirk turning sly. "Just the ones I want to kiss."

Remy’s gaze flickered to Elphaba’s lips, the space between them already charged with tension. Without a word, their lips collided.

The first kiss was soft, tentative, but when they pulled away for air, Remy didn’t wait.

She pulled Elphaba back, this time with more urgency, her tongue finding its way into Elphaba’s mouth.

Elphaba met her eagerly, tugging at Remy’s hair with one hand, the other roaming across her back.

Without breaking the kiss, Remy shifted, sliding her legs over Elphaba’s until she was straddling her lap. Elphaba’s hands instinctively went to her waist, pulling her closer, feeling the heat of their bodies pressed together.

Remy’s breath came in quick bursts, her movements slow, deliberate—testing before deepening the kiss again.

For a moment, that was all there was.

She tried to ground herself in Remy’s body, and for a while, it worked.

But soon, the thoughts she’d been trying to push aside came crashing back, and Remy noticed immediately.

She slowed the kiss, pulling away slightly to cup Elphaba’s cheek. "Hey," she whispered. "You okay?"

Elphaba swallowed hard, chest rising and falling unevenly. Her mind was too loud, too crowded.

"Hey," Remy said again, softer. "Where are you, huh? I can feel you're miles away."

Her tone was sweet, which only made Elphaba feel worse, guilty for ruining the moment, for being unfair to someone who deserved better.

"I'm sorry," Elphaba started, hands settling on Remy’s waist. "I'm such an idiot. I didn’t want to mess this up."

"Hey, it’s okay," Remy said, genuine concern in her voice. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Elphaba didn’t. She’d already ruined the mood; she wouldn’t make it worse by dumping her baggage.

"Nothing to talk about," she deflected. "Just exhausted, I guess." The oldest excuse in the book.

But Remy saw right through it.

"Look, if you don’t want to talk to me, that’s okay. But talk to someone, yeah?" She cradled Elphaba’s face, forcing eye contact. "It’s not good for you to keep everything bottled up."

Elphaba exhaled heavily.

Gods, Remy was sweet. Too sweet to someone acting like such a jerk.

"Thanks, Rem. I’m sorry. I really did want to keep going. I’ll make it up to you, promise." She pressed a quick, apologetic kiss to Remy’s lips.

"Don’t worry about that," Remy said lightly. "And as for making up, I’ll forgive you if you still let me hide against your neck during the movie." A teasing grin. "If you’re comfortable with it."

"More than comfortable," Elphaba said, already feeling lighter.

They rearranged themselves on the couch, Remy curling into Elphaba's side.

The movie played on, but neither paid attention, Remy's breath already slowing against Elphaba's collarbone, one hand fisted loosely in her shirt.

Elphaba waited until Remy's grip slackened in sleep before letting her own eyes close.

The last thing she registered was the weight of Remy's body pressed along hers, the faint smell of bonfire smoke still clinging to their clothes, and the quiet hum of the TV casting flickering shadows across the room.

Chapter Text

Galinda woke up on Saturday and immediately wished she hadn’t. At least not in her current state. Keeping her eyes open hurt. Gods, even breathing hurt.

She blinked at the ceiling, then froze at the sight of Avaric sprawled on the floor, limbs twisted like a discarded marionette.

A jolt of panic spiked through her, until she saw the steady rise and fall of his chest.

Alive. Good.

How had they ended up like this?

The universe, it seemed, was eager to remind her. The memories came flooding back.

Absinthe. That's how.

The word slithered into her mind, dragging the rest of the night behind it. The bonfire. The shots, too many, too fast. Avaric’s arm around her shoulders as she slurred something dramatic (what, exactly?). The vile taste of licorice clinging to her teeth like a bad decision.

Her phone buzzed from somewhere under the pillow. She fished it out, squinting at the notifications:

Milla: u alive????
Fiyero: ace better not have let u die
Group Chat: A photo of her passed out in bed, Avaric grinning beside her with a thumbs-up. "Mission accomplished."

She'd murder him later. Maybe.

She texted Milla and Fiyero back, typing out replies ("Alive"). But that's when she noticed: she hadn't heard from Elphie.

"It's fine, Elphie. Just go."

The memories hit like a tidal wave, suddenly filling in the blanks in her pounding head.

She remembered their brief conversation when they'd arrived at the bonfire.

Remembered missing Elphie all night.

Remembered the stupid rush of happiness when she'd finally found her.

Remembered the fight. Her telling her to leave. Elphaba leaving. With Remy.

Fuck.

"If you’re gonna puke, please aim for the window."

The voice came from the floor, she hadn’t realized she’d spoken aloud.

"Ugh, I won’t," she muttered, burying her face in the pillow. Then it hit her:

This wasn’t her pillow.

This wasn’t her dorm.

It was Avaric’s.

Which wouldn’t be a problem, except it meant she’d have to trek across campus to get to her dorm. Just the thought made her head throb.

"Remind me again how we ended up in your room?"

"You didn’t want to leave," he said, voice gravelly. "So I told you I had pot in my room. You came willingly."

She lifted her head, squinting. "Did we actually smoke?"

"I honestly don’t remember."

Could be worse. Could also be so much better.

Her traitorous mind circled back to Elphaba. Definitely could be better.

Mortification burned through her. What the fuck was I thinking? She wanted to crawl out of her skin.

She felt like she might explode.

A water bottle appeared beside her. "Drink up," Avaric said, then pointed to the nightstand. "Painkillers in there."

She gulped the water, grabbed the pills, and shook two into his waiting palm.

"Thanks," he sighed.

"Well, I should be the one thanking you," Galinda mumbled, voice softer now. "You were the perfect wingman."

"Given our current state, I don’t know about that. I think I might’ve crashed our plane," he said, grinning.

"Minor details," she waved a hand. "What matters is we had fun and made it back alive. All thanks to you."

A second later, "Especially the making it out alive part," she concluded.

There was a beat of silence before he asked, "So… did you really have fun?"

She couldn’t quite read his tone, so she answered carefully. "Sure did. For what I remember." She tried to joke since she didn’t have the energy, or the nerve, to bring up the Elphie situation.

"Alright," he said, back to playful. "We should definitely do it again sometime."

"Yeah, I don’t know about that," she laughed, immediately regretting it as a bolt of pain shot through her head.

She needed food. Sunlight. A bath. Possibly new organs.

With monumental effort, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up slowly. "Come on. I’m buying us breakfast."

"I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to get up again," he groaned from the floor.

Galinda smirked. "We can go to Dilly’s—"

"I’m up," he said, instantly.

She laughed again, more careful this time.

Dilly’s was Avaric’s favorite place on Earth. No one really understood his obsession with those weirdly addictive green fried tomatoes, but he claimed they were life-changing.

Galinda suspected he just liked that the servers knew his name.

"Hey, G?" He said as he finally sat up, wincing.

"Yeah?", she replied, facing the mirror, attempting to look less like she’d lost a fight with a trash can.

"Turns out… we didn’t smoke after all."

That made her glance back.

Avaric was holding up a sad, crumpled joint—half-smashed, clearly slept on.

He sighed, dramatically reverent. “Poor girl. She had promise.”

“She deserved better,” Galinda said solemnly, before grabbing her phone. “Now come on, let’s go. My hangover needs hashbrowns and divine intervention.”

Her hand had just found the doorknob when she heard the telltale flick of a lighter.

She spun around. “Avaric!”

“What? It’s a great appetite opener.” he said, taking a slow, smug drag.

Galinda stared, equal parts appalled and impressed. “Un-believable.”

**

The weekend lasted forever. Normally, that would be a good thing, but for Elphaba, it meant never-ending anxiety.

Galinda didn’t text her. And Elphaba didn’t text either.

Not that she didn’t try. Elphaba had drafted a dozen different texts, each more awkward than the last, only to delete them all.

In the end, she decided to wait until Monday to sort things out. She’d test the waters, feel things out, her best bet was to improvise. It would probably be fine.

Galinda, on the other hand, had come up with a plan.

Sort of.

She still didn’t have the nerve to talk to Elphaba, but she was trying to find some. So she decided the best thing to do, for now, was avoid her. Not forever, just until she figured out how to apologize properly.

Monday arrived with the weight of a Greek tragedy.

Elphaba got to class early, like always, clutching her coffee like it was a lifeline. She picked their usual seats, third row from the front, by the window. She kept one earbud in, pretending to read through lecture notes, but really just watching the door.

Waiting.

At 9:07, Galinda walked in.

Elphaba’s stomach dropped at the sight of her.

Her hair was done. She looked impossibly put together for someone who’d been vaguely MIA all weekend.

Elphaba straightened in her seat, ready to offer something—anything. A nod, maybe. A smile. An eyebrow raise. A “hey.”

But Galinda didn’t look her way.

She walked streight to the first seat, the closest to the door.

Not beside Elphaba.

Not even in the same zip code.

Elphaba tried not to show anything, her face stayed neutral, but inside?

Hurricane-level confusion.

She thought they were going to talk today. Was Galinda still mad?

Meanwhile, Tibbett, sitting two rows back and to the side, watched the whole thing unfold like a slow-motion car crash.

He immediately texted Fiyero.

Tibbett:
something’s wrong
they’re sitting APART
like physically apart. emotionally?? unclear but it’s not good.

Fiyero:
wtf.
do I say something?

Tibbett:
do NOT
just observe. report.

Up at the front, the lecture began. Professor Rain started droning on about policy frameworks, but neither Galinda nor Elphaba were really listening.

Elphaba’s knee bounced under the desk. Galinda didn’t even take her notebook out.

Both of them stared straight ahead, pretending to care, while their minds screamed.

Elphaba didn’t know how much time had passed when the professor finally dismissed the class.

She scrambled to pack up quickly, heart racing at the thought of catching Galinda on her way out, maybe even saying something, anything—

But when she looked up, Galinda was already gone.

The door swung closed behind her, too fast, too final.

Elphaba didn’t move.

"Hey," a voice came from behind, soft but grounded. "You okay?"

It was Tibbett.

She hesitated. "...I don’t know."

Tibbett gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, trying to offer something solid in a moment that clearly wasn’t.

Elphaba looked like someone who had just been left at the altar, or lost a husband to war.

And yeah, Tibbett knew they’d all be laughing about this pretty soon, but even he had to admit: the girl looked wrecked.

“Come on,” he said, voice low. “I’ll walk with you.”

Elphaba didn’t argue. She just gave the tiniest nod and let herself be dragged.

Meanwhile, somewhere around Shiz University corridors, Fiyero started to aggressively type.

Fiyero:
ace
u know what’s up w galinda and elphaba??
they didn’t even sit together today

Fiyero:
you were w galinda most of the weekend right?
did something happen?

Avaric:
lol ok
story time

Avaric:
i’d already been suspicious of her sudden party era
but then friday
on our way back to mine
outta nowhere
she just stops and starts crying

Fiyero:
??????

Avaric:
my reaction exactly
anyway
she starts crying
and then she goes

Avaric:
“she left us”
“she doesn’t care about us anymore”
“she picked her over us”

Avaric:
like babe who’s us
it’s you. we all know it’s you.

Fiyero:
wait WHAT
she said that??

Avaric:
yeah but like
she never said what actually happened

Fiyero:
and you didn’t ask??

Avaric:
i mean i tried
but she was crying into her sleeve
it was hard to understand anything

Avaric:
and she kept changing the subject to hashbrowns

Avaric:
also i’m 90% sure she doesn’t remember any of it
she was deep in her feelings and absynth

Fiyero:
this is WILD
why didn’t u tell me before??

Avaric:
because despite how funny it was
girl was sad sad

Avaric:
i just tried to be supportive while
i figured out what to do with it
then you texted

Fiyero:
god. they’re so dumb.

Avaric:
painfully
so what now

Fiyero:
now we place bets
i give it a day

Avaric:
i give twelve hours

**

Galinda didn’t sit with them at lunch.

Neither did Elphaba.

She told herself she wasn’t hungry, but truthfully, she was avoiding the dining hall because she couldn't bear the empty space beside her.

Instead, she wandered around campus, to clear her thoughts, she told herself, as if the act of pacing in circles wasn’t a thinly veiled attempt to bump into Galinda by accident.

It didn’t happen.

Galinda was one step ahead, having locked herself in Milla’s dorm.

Yes, Milla’s dorm.

She had a spare key (as did Milla for hers), and it felt safer than her own too-obvious room.

Milla wouldn’t be back anytime soon, so for now, she was in the clear.

Meanwhile, in the dining hall.

“I’m so impressed by the way things are unfolding today,” Tibbett said, mid-bite.

“So does anyone actually know what’s going on?” Crope asked, scanning the table like it was some group mystery he hadn’t been briefed on.

Fiyero and Avaric exchanged a look.

“Apparently something went down at the bonfire,” Fiyero said, keeping the more dramatic details Avaric had shared between them. “But we don’t know what exactly.”

“And now Galinda’s avoiding Elphaba, and Elphaba’s walking around like a scorned puppy,” Avaric added, deadpan.

“Seriously, it’s almost sad to see,” Tibbett said. “Almost.”

“I’d be concerned,” Pfannee chimed in, stirring his drink casually, “if we weren’t talking about Galinda and Elphaba. By the end of the week, this’ll be ancient history.”

“The end of the week?” Fiyero scoffed. “I’m thinking more like the end of the day.” He grinned.

Then Shenshen frowned slightly. “Wait… so are they, like… a thing? Or just dramatic?”

She was the newest addition to the group, still catching up on everyone’s tangled dynamics. She’d had her doubts for a while, but the moment just never seemed right to ask, until now.

Fiyero let out a small laugh. “Oh, sweetheart.”

“They’re not a thing,” Avaric said, “but also somehow more of a thing than any of us will ever be.”

“It’s honestly impressive,” Tibbett added. “Like watching two magnets fight their own instincts.”

“But does this happen often? Like, do they have epic falling outs on a seasonal schedule or something?” Shenshen asked, genuinely curious.

The table went quiet for a second, like they were all doing mental rewinds.

Then Fiyero shook his head. “Nah. This is the first time.”

“Yeah,” Tibbett agreed. “Shockingly.”

“But really,” Crope added, “it was only a matter of time."

“Yeah, they’ve been building toward this breakdown since orientation,” Avaric said. “It’s actually kind of romantic. In a tragic, slow-burn, deeply frustrating kind of way.”

“Dumbest smart people I know,” Tibbett nodded solemnly.

Shenshen blinked again. “Okay, so… they’re not together, but they are.”

“Exactly,” everyone said at once.

“Y’all enjoy this way too much,” Milla, who had been quiet all along, sighed, pushing her chair back.

She wasn’t upset, just observant, as always the one with the biggest heart in the room. “I think I’m gonna go try to find our doomed couple, see if I can help save them from the narrative.”

**

Milla wasn’t planning on doing anything dramatic. She just needed her charger, and maybe her tinted lip balm, wherever that had wandered off to.

She opened the door to her dorm without much thought, already halfway through a mental checklist, when she stopped in her tracks.

Someone was sitting on her bed. Back turned. Black hood up.

Completely still.

Milla’s soul left her body.

Until the figure turned around—and she saw Galinda’s face.

“Galinda?! What the fuck?”

“Sorry,” Galinda muttered, voice hoarse. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Milla pressed a hand to her chest, trying to calm her pulse. “Okay, but like, a text? A heads-up? A note taped to the door? You can’t just be here in cryptid cosplay waiting to give me a heart attack.”

Galinda said nothing.

Milla closed the door behind her, tossed her bag on the chair, and crossed her arms. “Alright. What’s going on?”

Silence.

“I mean it, Galinda. You’re hiding out in my room, Elphaba’s wandering campus like someone shot her emotional support animal—" Galinda’s head snapped up, eyes wide. “And you’re in**my bed* like you’re waiting for the end of the world. Talk.”

“She is?” Galinda asked.

“Who is what?” Milla said, not following.

“Elphie. Is she… not okay?”

“You’re kidding, right?”

Milla had the biggest heart in the group, but she also had the smallest fuse. And these two? These two were infuriating.

“I mean it,” Galinda said quickly. “I was gathering the nerve to go talk to her and apologize—I didn’t know she was… going through something.”

Milla inhaled deeply. Counted to three.

“Galinda. She’s sad because of you.”

Galinda’s brows scrunched. “Because of me? If she were angry, I’d totally get it. But what did I do to make her sad?”

“You’ve been ignoring her all day! Whatever happened between you two, talk to her. But hiding like a twelve-year-old? Come on.” She paused. “And wait—why would she be angry at you?”

Galinda sighed.

“I… okay.” She sat up straighter, tugging the hood down. “I’ll tell you everything.”

And so she did, walking Milla through everything that happened at the bonfire.

Milla didn’t move from the floor. She just tilted her head a little, arms crossed, waiting.

So Galinda kept going, step by step. The dancing. The drinks. The moment she ran into Elphaba. The part where she might have… overreacted.

When she was done, the silence stretched long.

“You done?”

Galinda huffed. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m not looking at you like anything.”

“You’re doing the thing with your face.”

“This is my face.”

Galinda flopped backward with a dramatic groan, arms flung over her head. “I mean… I do believe people in relationships—or situationships, whatever—should have their own independence. That’s healthy, right?”

“Definitely,” Milla said, careful.

“Like, Elphie should be able to have her own thing. Her own space."

Milla watched her. “You mean you think she shouldn’t always be with someone?”

“Yes! Exactly.”

“But you wanted her to be with you at the bonfire.”

Galinda froze. “I—what?”

“You said it like three times.”

Galinda opened her mouth, then closed it. “I mean, sure, I missed hanging out just the two of us that night, but that’s not the real point.”

“The real point being?” Milla asked, one brow raised.

“I just think it’s really important that Elphie doesn’t lose herself in some… dizzy, dizzy-eyed romance just because Remy has nice hair or whatever.”

“She does have really nice hair.”

“Milla.”

Milla bit back a grin. “Right, sorry, carry on.”

Galinda sat up again, fingers twisting in the drawstrings of her hoodie.
5
“I just don’t want her to change herself to make someone else happy. Like… if she didn’t even want to leave the party, why should she have to just because Remy fluttered her lashes or whatever?”

There was a beat of silence. Her eyes fell to her knees.

“But still, to act the way that I did? I mean, if Elphaba’s idea of a relationship is sharing, like, legs, lungs, and heart—who cares? I should’ve never lashed out on her like that.”

Milla was quiet for a moment.

Then she said, very carefully, “Were you mad at her for leaving with Remy?"

“That’s not—no.” Galinda started but them simply exhaled in defeat. Not even she knew for sure anymore. “I just don’t want her to lose herself, that’s all.”

“Okay. So you’re not mad. Just very passionate about Elphaba’s… personal boundaries in hypothetical relationships.”

“Exactly!” Galinda said, relief flooding her face.

“And you missed her at the bonfire,” Milla kept going.

“Yes,” Galinda admitted.

“And you miss her now.”

“Yes.” Again, softer.

Milla smiled. “Then go tell her that. Preferably without accusing her of codependency mid-apology.”

“Ugh, fine." Galinda dropped her face into her hands. "I’ll text her.”

“No, talk to her. With your mouth.”

Galinda made a dramatic noise of suffering. “I hate this.”

“Yup,” Milla said, “that’s how you know it matters.”

She stood up and walked to the door, swinging it open and holding it like it was obvious what came next.

“Come on,” she said simply.

With a long exhale, Galinda got up and started walking.

“That’s it, off you go, out my room,” Milla called, trailing behind her.

Now all she had to do was find Elphaba.

“Hey, can you do me one more favor?” Galinda asked, pausing in the hallway.

“I already texted her,” Milla said. “She was online but didn’t reply. She’s been really under the radar since earlier. But maybe you’ll be luckier?” She gave her a small, hopeful smile.

Galinda frowned at first, confused. But then Milla watched her face light up like a lamp, warm and sudden.

She knew where to find Elphaba.

“Thanks so much,” Galinda said, leaning in to press a kiss to Milla’s cheek. “Talk to you later.”

And just like that, she was gone

**

Elphaba had found the garden by accident during her freshman year. Shiz could be a maze when you were new.

She was looking for the Philosophy building, or maybe the East Lecture Hall. Honestly, at that point, she wasn't even sure anymore.

A security guard had told her she’d make it in two minutes if she hurried, but she’d already been walking for ten solid ones, so she was pretty sure she was headed in the wrong direction.

That’s when she saw it.

The roof of a bandstand sticking out over some hedges. Curious, she walked over and discovered a small, a small, tucked-away garden. The noise of campus faded, replaced by birdsong and the rustle of leaves.

At the center stood the bandstand, weather-worn and slightly crooked, like something out of a storybook. She half expected it to disappear if she looked away.

No one else ever seemed to come. Eventually, it became hers, her secret corner of Shiz.

She read there. Napped there. Cried there once or twice.

Only one person had ever joined her. Galinda.

Once.

Elphaba had taken her there after a particularly long day, thinking maybe she'd want to see something real. She hadn’t expected how much Galinda would love it. Or how much she’d love seeing Galinda in it.

Galinda felt her heart in her throat when she saw the roof of the bandstand, but she kept walking, the familiar feeling of the garden slowly grounding her.

Eventually, she made it. If it weren’t for the anxiety that gripped her, she would’ve smiled, proud of being right.

Elphie was there.

“Galinda?” Elphaba looked up, surprised. “How did you get here?”

“I... walked?” Galinda hesitaded, thrown by the question.

Elphaba let out a breath of a laugh. “I mean, how did you know I was here?”

“Oh.” Galinda shrugged, half-smiling. “Lucky guess, I guess.”

“So—”

“Elphie, I—”

They both spoke at once, then paused, a small nervous laugh escaping between them. Galinda stepped closer, fiddling with her fingers.

“I’m sorry,” she said, softer now.

Elphaba didn’t interrupt. She just listened.

“I’m sorry for how I acted today. I was... anxious, and embarrassed, and I couldn't even look at you.” Galinda’s voice was steady, but her eyes shone with something raw. “But I never want to make you feel like I don’t care. Because I do. A lot.”

A lump caught in her throat, but she swallowed it back.

“And I’m sorry about the bonfire. That wasn’t fair to you. You didn’t do anything wrong, and I just—I hope you can forgive me.”

There. Said and done. The weight lifted the second it left her mouth.

Elphaba took a slow breath and stepped closer too. Her shoulders, always a little tense, relaxed by degrees.

“Thanks for saying that,” she said quietly. And after a beat, “I wasn’t expecting you to show up.”

Her voice wobbled, just slightly. But there was warmth there, where before there’d only been distance.

Galinda shifted on her feet, a little sheepish. “Yeah, well... I kind of wasn’t either. Surprise. I’m also bad at processing things.” She gave a tiny smile. “Sorry again. For being a jerk.”

They stood there a moment, still surrounded by the hush of the garden. Elphaba tilted her head, studying her, not coldly, not even guarded. Just *curious. Needing to understand.

“Can I ask you something?” she said.

Galinda nodded. “Of course.”

Elphaba hesitated. “What happened? At the bonfire. One minute we’re fine, and then... you were gone.” She shook her head, frustrated. “Did I do something?”

Galinda’s eyes widened. “No! No, Elphie. You didn’t do anything. That’s the thing.”

She struggled to find the words, hands fluttering helplessly. “I was just... weird. I don’t know. I guess I just... missed you.”

“But I was right there!”

“Except you weren’t.”

That landed.

Elphaba’s breath caught in her chest, her lips parting, but no words came. Not right away.

“I didn’t mean to disappear,” she said finally, voice low.

“I know.” Galinda gave a small nod. She meant it.

Another silence followed, but this one wasn’t sharp. Just full.

Then Galinda smiled, gently, a little crooked. “You know... we’re really bad at this.”

Elphaba huffed a laugh through her nose, shaking her head. “Yeah. We are.”

She stepped forward, just enough that their shoes were nearly touching. “But... I’m glad you came.”

“Me too.” Galinda’s smile softened, sincere and fond.

Elphaba reached out then, fingers brushing Galinda’s arm before tugging her in. The hug wasn’t dramatic—it was easy, natural, like it had been waiting there the whole time.

Galinda melted into it without hesitation, cheek pressed to Elphie’s shoulder. She smelled like wind and warm grass and something faintly floral, maybe leftover perfume from earlier.

“I missed you too, you know,” Elphaba murmured.

Thank God she couldn’t see the way Galinda smiled at that: wide, dumb, delighted.

Galinda stayed tucked against Elphaba for a few more heartbeats, not quite ready to let go.

But when she finally pulled back, her fingers lingered at Elphaba’s elbow, just enough to say I’m still here.

Elphaba tilted her head, looking at her like she always did, like Galinda was some confusing, radiant puzzle she couldn’t help but try to solve.

And yet, there was something softer in her eyes now. Something settled.

“Wanna sit?” Elphaba asked, nodding toward the low bandstand steps.

Galinda nodded, and they did.

The sky above was shifting into that sweet late-evening blue, the kind that felt like a sigh.

Shoulders brushing, knees bumping, and the most comfortable silence there ever was.

They didn't need more.

**

Milla had just arrived back in her room (no Galinda’s this time) when her phone buzzed.

Fiyero:
news from our little birds?

Milla:
havent heard of them in a while

Milla:
and if you havent either...
it can only mean one thing

Fiyero:
wait until tomorrow to tell Avaric
and we split the money  from the bet

Milla:
deal

Chapter Text

Fiyero:
driveway gate
7am. sharp.

Fiyero:
anyone not there stays

Galinda read the message Fiyero had just dropped in the group chat, squinting at the early hour.

It was finally Midterm Meander: Shiz’s peculiar way of letting everyone breathe halfway through the semester. No classes, no deadlines, just a loosely sanctioned week to “pursue rest and reflection,” according to the dean’s overly poetic email.

Basically? A week off.

Galinda tossed her phone onto the bed and stared at the open backpack on her floor like it had personally offended her. She had packed a bikini and sunscreen, but suddenly couldn’t remember if anyone had said anything about towels.

She grabbed her phone again.

Galinda:
do we need towels
or are we just accepting the sea as our home now

Galinda:
because I WILL adapt

She didn’t wait for an answer before stuffing two towels into her bag. Just in case. Elphie probably wouldn’t even bring one. Elphie would probably bring a book. To the beach.

Galinda grinned.

The group had landed on a beach day, just the one.

No overnight trip, no big vacation plans, because they couldn’t afford it.

Literally.

Well, some of them could. But still, there was a mountain of assignments waiting for them after the break, lurking like academic sea monsters just beneath the surface.

So the plan was pretty simple: one day. Sand, sun, maybe a little volleyball.

They’d be back before midnight.

Or that was the idea.

They left Shiz at exactly 7:13am, and Fiyero wasn't happy about it.

They’d split into two cars.

Tibbett had somehow convinced his parents to lend him theirs, despite his track record of losing both mirrors in a campus parking lot last semester.

He loaded it up with Crope, Mila, Shenshen, and Pfannee

Fiyero had just rented one, because— well, because.

That's what he awnsered when Avaric asked why. He didn't even charge anyone for gas or rental.

Elphaba normally wouldn’t go along without at least offering to split the gas.

But this was Fiyero, he didn’t need it, and frankly, neither did she. If he hadn’t rented the car first, she probably would’ve.

So there they were: Fiyero at the wheel, Avaric in the passenger seat, and Elphaba and Galinda squished in the back.

Not that either of them minded.

They’d somehow claimed the middle of the backseat as shared space, shoulders constantly bumping, limbs half-stretched across the seat like the most natural thing in the world.

Fiyero’s rental still smelled like new leather and faint sandalwood, probably from his cologne rubbing off on the seats.

The windows were not rolled down, much to Avaric’s visible disappointment.

“I just think,” Avaric began, already reaching toward the button, “we’d all enjoy the breeze, y’know? Morning air, salty wind, the full beach vibes experience—”

“No,” Galinda said, swift and final from the back.

“Absolutely not,” Elphaba echoed, barely looking up.

Avaric turned, scandalized. “What! Why not?”

“You would enjoy it,” Galinda accused, pointing a finger like she was delivering the final argument in court, “because you don’t have hair.”

Avaric gasped. “I—so?”

“So it’s different,” she said with a dramatic flip of her hand. “Some of us would rather not show up looking like we’ve been electrocuted in a wind tunnel.”

“Speak for yourself,” Elphaba muttered, but she gave the tiniest nod of agreement.

Fiyero just flicked on the A/C, grinning at the road.

“You people are joyless,” Avaric grumbled, slumping dramatically back into his seat like a retriever denied a walk.

The car settled into a steady hum, music low, the occasional click of the turn signal keeping time. Elphaba leaned against the window, her shoulder a breath away from Galinda’s. Neither of them seemed to notice.

“Hey,” Galinda said suddenly, tapping the glass with her nail. “That tree—doesn’t it remind you of—”

“Oh my God, yeah,” Elphaba cut in, laughing already.

A beat.

“Of what?” Avaric twisted in his seat, looking between them. They couldn't possibly be done talking.

“Huh?” Galinda looked at him, entirely unfazed.

“The tree,” he said, gesturing wildly. “You said it reminded you of something—what??”

“Oh, Ace, you wouldn’t get it,” Galinda said sweetly, turning back to Elphaba with a giggle.

Fiyero glanced at the rearview mirror, amused. “Come on, let us in.”

Galinda nudged Elphaba with her knee. “Tell them.”

Elphaba sighed like it was a chore, but she was smiling. “It reminded us of the time we got stuck in that sad little greenhouse behind the library.”

“The one with the rotted frame,” Galinda added, eyes alight. “And the emergency ‘escape’ window that didn’t open—”

“Oh my God, and Avaric tried to impress us by climbing out through the ceiling vent—”

“—and then that exact kind of tree branch fell on him—”

“—and he screamed like—”

“Okay!” Avaric cut in, hands raised in surrender. “We get it.”

Galinda beamed, delighted. “You blamed the tree. Said it betrayed you.”

“To be fair,” Elphaba said dryly, “that tree had a very smug aura.”

Fiyero barked a laugh. Avaric groaned and turned back around, mumbling something about “revisionist history.”

The lull that followed was easy.

Avaric reached for a bag of chips and the crinkling plastic filled the car for a moment. Galinda glanced over, immediately snatching a handful before he could react.

“Sharing is a virtue,” she said, popping one in her mouth.

Without looking, she held one out toward Elphaba. Elphaba didn’t even glance up—just opened her mouth slightly, and Galinda fed it to her like it was nothing.

“Okay,” he muttered, “sure.”

Fiyero glanced in the mirror again, said nothing, but the corner of his mouth twitched.

Galinda wiped her fingers on a napkin. “Alright,” she said brightly. “I have an important question.”

There was a pause and everyone braced.

“How many holes does a straw have?”

There was a collective silence.

“What?” Elphaba said, turning to look at her.

“I’m serious,” Galinda insisted. “Like, technically. One hole, or two?”

Avaric snorted. “Two. One on each end.”

Galinda raised an eyebrow. “So if I dig a tunnel straight through the Earth, did I just make two holes? Or one long one?”

“Oh my God,” Fiyero muttered.

“No, but she’s right,” Elphaba said slowly, leaning in. “It’s one hole. Continuous. A torus.”

“A what?” Avaric turned around again.

“She means like a donut,” Fiyero translated.

Galinda snapped her fingers. “Exactly! You don’t say a donut has two holes. Just the one.”

Avaric looked deeply betrayed by the logic. “So… so every straw is a donut now?”

“No,” Elphaba deadpanned, “donuts are just shorter, fatter straws.”

Fiyero cracked up.

Galinda, very solemnly, nodded. “Science.”

Avaric groaned, flopping back into his seat again like this debate had personally wounded him.

The car quieted again, this time warm and light, the road stretching ahead in golden slants.

Galinda shifted slightly, her thigh brushing Elphaba’s. Elphaba didn’t move. Their hands rested close, fingertips almost touching, but never quite.

The music skipped to the next track, something soft and summery.

Fiyero’s voice broke the quiet. “Beach in ten.”

No one answered. Galinda was smiling faintly. Elphaba glanced out the window, just as the first glimpse of ocean came into view.

**

As they arrived at the beach, the rest of the group was already there.

They were lucky to find a spot beneath a crooked tree, its shade stretching just enough for all of them to squeeze in without frying.

There was the usual chaos of arrival: beach wraps laid out and smoothed down with hands and knees, bags opened, clothes peeled off. Someone passed around sunscreen. Someone else complained about sand already getting in their water bottle.

Elphaba had barely sat down, still pulling her boots off with a grimace, when she heard it.

“Elphie, could you get my back?”

She looked up.

Galinda was already facing away, holding her hair up with one hand, her other arm outstretched with the sunscreen. Her shoulder blades shifted slightly as she waited, the thin strap of her top slipping just enough to reveal the curve of her neck.

The request wasn’t new. Not really. But something about it—maybe the sun hitting Galinda’s skin just right, or the smell of her perfume melting into coconut sunscreen—made it land different.

Elphaba took the bottle with a quiet “sure,” her voice catching in her throat. She squeezed out a generous amount, rubbed her palms together, and pressed them to Galinda’s back.

Her hands slowed as they moved. Galinda’s skin was warm from the sun, soft, impossibly smooth, and Elphaba was suddenly aware of everything. The faint shimmer of sand on Galinda’s shoulder. The way her laugh echoed faintly from something Avaric said. The way her neck tilted ever so slightly when Elphaba’s fingers brushed too close to the base of it.

She kept her focus steady, making slow, even circles. But her mouth had gone dry.

Galinda let her hair fall again, not turning around just yet. “Thanks, Elphie,” she said lightly, her voice sunny and easy.

Elphaba sat back, brushing her hands against her own legs to get the residue off, heart thudding like she’d just run from something.

Or toward it.

Elphaba was just about to settle back onto the beach towel, book in hand, when she heard it:

“Elphaba Thropp.”

Her full name, crisp and commanding.

It always struck a nerve, childhood reflexes courtesy of her father’s lectures, but when Galinda said it, it hit different. Less scolding, more spell. Her voice lilting, slightly amused. A dare wrapped in silk.

Elphaba glanced up, already defensive. “What?”

Galinda had one hand on her hip, sunglasses perched halfway down her nose, blonde hair catching the sunlight like she’d planned it. “Get up this instant. You are not about to waste away your precious hours with your friends staring at white paper and black ink.”

Elphaba opened her mouth to argue, but that was when they heard it—"hurry, get the camera!"—followed by shrieks of laughter.

They turned just in time to see Avaric completely buried in sand while Crope and Tibbet gleefully shaped what looked suspiciously like a mermaid’s tail over him.

Elphaba shot her eyebrows up, unimpressed, and looked back at Galinda

“Is it really a waste, though?” she asked dryly.

Galinda tilted her head as she walked closer, her tone dropping into something playful. “Yeah, well,” she said, sliding her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose, “you’re not about to waste your precious hours with me, then, are you?”

She batted those unfairly long lashes, those big, earnest brown eyes locking onto Elphaba’s.

And just like that, Elphaba lost the battle.

“Fine,” she muttered, standing up with a sigh. “But let’s go somewhere else. I don’t want to be seen anywhere near... whatever the hell this is.”

Galinda laughed and hooked their arms together, already leading her down the beach.

“Fine,” she said, already standing up. “But let’s go somewhere else. I wouldn’t want to be associated with... whatever this is.”

“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” Galinda replied, grabbing the volleyball as they walked toward the shore.

From the sand, Fiyero watched them. “We lost them already, huh?”

“We never had them,” Milla said with a shrug.

Eventually, the others joined in. They played for a while, but as the sun climbed higher and burned hotter, Galinda and Elphaba made their way toward the water.

Once again, they didn’t invite anyone else.

Once again, no one minded.

As they reached the waves, Galinda froze at the first touch of water. “Oz, this is freezing.”

Elphaba, already waist-deep and having taken the plunge, grinned. “Come on, it’s great.”

A wave rolled in and Galinda jumped to avoid it, squealing.

“The way I see it, you have two options,” Elphaba said, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. “Either you dive in... or I’ll do it for you.”

“WAIT—wait, fine! I’ll do it!” Galinda said, too quickly.

But she didn’t move.

Elphaba stepped closer.

“Wait, Elphie—wait! I swear I’ll do it!” Galinda said, laughing, already backing away.

But Elphaba wasn’t exactly known for her patience.

With a wicked grin, she sent a splash of cold water straight at Galinda, who froze in disbelief.

Then retaliated.

“Oh you—!” Galinda retaliated with a splash of her own, and soon enough, they were in a full-blown water fight.

They didn’t notice when laughter turned to shrieking, to chasing, to arms wrapping around each other in messy, slippery grabs.

“Elphie—!” Galinda gasped between giggles, her hair plastered to her cheeks. She reached for Elphaba, but caught only air as Elphaba darted sideways, spraying another arc of water toward her.

Then, a shadow passed over them.

“Galinda—dive!”

The wave crashed down. They barely made it under in time, tumbling into the cold rush of it together.

When they surfaced, coughing and breathless and laughing too hard to speak, Elphaba realized her bikini top had loosened slightly.

Galinda noticed at the same time.

“Come here,” she said gently, her voice a little softer now. “Let me fix it.”

Elphaba didn’t speak. She simply turned, lifting her hair off her neck with one hand, the other pressing lightly against her chest to keep the top in place.

Galinda stepped closer, the water swirling around their waists. Her fingers found the loosened knot, moving with unexpected care.

Galinda’s hands found the knot gently. Her nails and fingertips grazed Elphaba’s skin as she adjusted the ties, and despite the sun and salt and adrenaline, Elphaba’s body betrayed her with a shiver.

“I thought you weren’t cold,” Galinda said. Her tone was teasing, but Elphaba couldn’t quite tell.

“I’m not,” she said, too fast. “Just... residual wave shock.”

Galinda hummed behind her. The knot was already tied, but her hands lingered for just a second more before falling away.

By the time Crope and Milla made it down to the water, Elphaba and Galinda were already wading out.

“Done already?” Crope called.

“Taking a break,” Galinda replied over her shoulder, flicking water from her fingers as she walked beside Elphaba. “Don’t let us stop you.”

They made their way back to the sand. Galinda pulled one towel from her bag, even though she'd brought two, and laid it down, patting the spot beside her.

Elphie took it immediately. They didn’t say anything, just stretched out side by side, shoulder to shoulder and legs brushing under the sunlight.

Up on higher ground, Pfannee adjusted her sunglasses, watching the scene unfold from behind a glossy fashion magazine he clearly wasn’t reading.

“Is it just me,” he asked, “or are they actively avoiding everyone else?”

Shenshen snorted, twirling a curl around her finger. “I don’t think they realize they’re doing it.”

“Should we go down?” Shenshen lowered her sunglasses, squinting.

Pfannee shrugged. “Might as well. Sun’s better there anyway.”

They gathered their things without fanfare and made their way toward the shoreline.

“Mind if we join?” Pfannee asked, already dropping a towel a respectful distance beside theirs.

“Not at all,” Galinda said, sitting up slowly and brushing sand from her legs. She glanced out toward the beach and let out a quiet laugh. “Oz, Avaric’s already sunburnt.”

“Sunburnt?” Elphaba echoed, eyes still closed as she adjusted against the towel. “Give it ten minutes, he’ll be bragging like it’s a tan.”

“He probably thinks SPF is a social ranking,” Pfannee muttered, stretching out beside them. “He asked Tibbett if seashells are dishwasher safe.”

“And did you see the chicken fight they started in the sea?” Shenshen added, rolling onto her stomach with her chin propped on her hands. “I thought Fiyero drowned for a second.”

Galinda huffed a laugh. “Why do I feel like you’re all having a completely different beach day than I am?”

“Because you haven’t moved from this towel in twenty minutes,” Pfannee said.

“We’re relaxing,” Galinda defended, brushing a bit of sand from Elphaba’s arm.

Shenshen made a face. “You’re melting. I’m bored.”

“What do you suggest then?” Elphaba asked, lifting herself up onto her elbows.

Shenshen sat up straighter, eyes gleaming. “Let’s play Court or Covers.”

Elphaba frowned. “Is that... a game or a threat?”

“It’s a game,” Galinda said, her voice laced with amusement.

“Kind of like Would You Rather,” Pfannee explained. “But for athletes. You say someone’s name, and everyone has to say if they think they’re better on the court or under the covers.”

Elphaba arched an eyebrow. “That’s absurd.”

“Absurdly fun,” Shenshen countered. “Come on. It’s not that deep. Gut instinct. No overthinking.”

“I always overthink,” Elphaba muttered.

“Well,” Galinda said, leaning back with a grin, “maybe this is how we finally get you to loosen up.”

Elphaba shot her a skeptical glance, then let herself fall back down, this time directly into Galinda’s lap.

Her head found the curve of Galinda’s thigh as she exhaled slowly, as if surrendering.

“All right,” she said. “Impress me.”

Galinda paused, just slightly thrown, before her fingers found Elphaba’s hair.

Pfannee propped himself up on one elbow. “Alright, I’ll go first: Cressida Veer.”

“Court,” Galinda said immediately.

“Court,” Shenshen agreed. “No question.”

Elphaba frowned. “Who is that?”

“Tall, always wears knee braces, shouts ‘mine’ before every serve?” Pfannee offered.

“Oh. Right. Court.”

“Unanimous,” Pfannee declared. “She’d probably high-five you after.”

Shenshen wrinkled her nose. “That’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

Galinda giggled, and Elphaba, almost in spite of herself, smiled too.

“My turn,” Shenshen said. “Gareth Fenmoor.”

Galinda made a face. “Please.”

“Court,” Pfannee said. “Terrible decisions in real life, but that man is kinetic on the court.”

“Covers,” Shenshen said. “I feel like he talks a lot, but with enthusiasm. Sometimes that counts.”

“Court,” Galinda decided. “Barely.”

Elphaba paused. “Covers. Definitely covers.”

They all turned toward her.

“What?” she said, shrugging. “He’s got that… overcompensating thing going on.”

Galinda arched a brow. “Sounds like experience.”

“She wishes,” Shenshen said.

Elphaba just smirked.

Pfannee cut in. “Alright, third round, Sophie Crox. Go.”

“Oh, covers,” Shenshen said, without hesitation.

“Covers,” Galinda agreed.

“Covers,” Pfannee echoed. “She once tripped mid-game and somehow still looked seductive.”

Elphaba nodded. “Covers. Easily.”

They laughed. A few rounds passed, everyone trhowwing names, even Elphaba had completely joined. The rounds started to have longer pauses between them because they started to ran our of names, so after a beat of silence, Pfannee said,

"Oh, I've got one. Calla Wynn."

There was a sublte pause in the air. Elphaba didn’t react immediately, but Galinda’s hand, still in Elphaba’s hair, paused.

Their friends didn’t catch it at first and kept going.

“Calla?” Shenshen asked, fanning herself lazily. “Tough one. Killer striker, but…”

“She’s intense,” Pfannee added thoughtfully. “Like, really intense. I’d be scared to get it wrong.”

Galinda looked down at Elphaba. Not sharply, not playfully, just steadily. And with the most unreadable tone asked, “Aren’t you going to answer that one?”

That was the moment everyone felt it.

It wasn’t a joke, though it could have sounded like one. Her eyes were soft, but something in the steadiness made Elphaba’s stomach flip, just slightly.

Elphaba turned her head to glance up at Galinda. “Are you asking me?”

“Well,” Galinda said, voice light but gaze anchored, “you haven’t played this round yet.”

Pfannee, to his credit, glanced toward the ocean. Shenshen picked at a loose thread on her towel, lips pursed in an almost-silent oh.

Elphaba hesitated. There were three ways to answer, and none of them neutral.

“I think I’m gonna take the fifth on that one,” she said finally, dry but not defensive. “Ethical boundary clause.”

Galinda nodded slowly, the corner of her mouth twitching like she wasn’t quite sure what expression to settle on.

Her fingers resumed their soft motion through Elphaba’s hair, just as gently as before.

Shenshen clapped once, a little too loudly. “Right! My turn. How about… Jorin Kade?”

The game went on. But no one missed how Galinda’s gaze lingered a moment longer on the girl resting in her lap.

The rest of the day slipped by like a soft breeze, and they never left each other’s side.

They lay on the same towel, when one wanted to go into the water the other would too, they played together, while talking with their friends Galinda would sit up leaning back against Elphaba’s legs, resting her weight there.

Sometimes they talked, about everything and nothing; sometimes they shared silence.

As the sun sank lower and the air cooled, their friends began to gather, stretching and shaking sand from their towels.

“What do you say we head into the city?” Fiyero asked, slinging a t-shirt over his shoulder. “My place?”

“Do you promise cheap beer and violent video games?” Avaric asked.

“What else would I promise?” Fiyero grinned.

“I’m in.” Avaric didn’t miss a beat.

One by one, the others chimed in.

The towels were folded and someone was already Googling the best drive-thru on the way when Elphaba said quielty “I’d love to, but I’ve got family dinner.”

“Dinner?” Crope made a face. “Can’t it be brunch tomorrow instead? This is literally the perfect day.”

“It’s not optional,” she shook her head. “My father made it very clear. I have to be home tonight. It’s not just dinner, there are donors. Apparently I have to look 'presentable and remember how to smile'.”

“What if you show up late?” Milla tried, hopeful. “Say you got caught in traffic. You wouldn’t even be lying.”

“He’d be pacing by six-oh-five and furious by six-ten.”

“Fake a flat tire,” Tibbett offered. “We’ll even go out and slash it for realism.”

Elphaba gave him a dry look. “Whose tire?”

“Details,” Tibbett said with a shrug.

“Tell them you lost your shoes,” Crope said. “Or that the tide came in and we’re all trapped on a makeshift raft.”

“Yes,” Galinda said suddenly, and for a second, she actually sounded like she believed it. “What if you just text and say you’re stuck out here? That the car broke down?”

Elphaba looked at her for a moment before answering. “He’d just send a car for me. Or worse, come himself.”

There was a beat of quiet. The jokes faded. No one had a better plan.

Galinda shifted, her arms crossed loosely, towel clutched under one. “There’s really no way around it?”

Elphaba shook her head. “No. I already had to push just to come today.”

“Right,” Galinda said softly.

There was another pause.

Then suddenly, Fiyero tossed a set of keys to Tibbett and said, “The controller opens the gate and the big key opens the house. We’re dropping Elphie off first, so you’ll probably get there before us.”

“You really don’t have to. I can have someone pick me up at Shiz,” Elphaba said, not wanting to be a burden.

“It’s okay. It’s on my way,” Fiyero said, but Elphaba knew it wasn’t. “Shall we?” he added, giving no room for discussion.

The group began gathering their things, already drifting into conversation again, but Galinda didn’t move right away. She was still looking at Elphaba like she wanted to offer a thousand different escapes.

And, of course, Elphaba noticed. She nudged Galinda gently with her elbow. “Have fun for me, okay?”

“I’ll try,” Galinda said, deadpan. “But just so you know, it’ll be the bleakest, loneliest party ever thrown in a perfectly nice house.”

That pulled a small smile from Elphaba. “Ever thrown? I don’t know about that. We’ve been through worse.”

“Right,” Galinda relented, softer now. “It just... won’t be the same.”

Elphaba’s expression softened. “I’m still here. We’ve got the whole ride back together. You’re not getting rid of me yet.”

Galinda looked at her for a beat, then smiled, still a little pouty, but brighter. “Good.”

“Come on,” Elphaba said, slipping an arm lightly around Galinda’s shoulder and steering them toward the car.

Soon enough, they were back in the car, everyone in their usual places. Avaric up front in the passenger seat, Fiyero at the wheel. Elphaba sat behind Avaric, while Galinda stretched across the backseat, her legs extended and the rest of her curled into Elphaba’s side.

The ride was quiet, the kind of tired silence that followed a full day in the sun

Then, somewhere between stretches of nothing and more nothing, the GPS rerouted.

“Shortcut,” Avaric announced, tapping the screen.

Fiyero didn’t look convinced, but he took the exit.

The road narrowed almost immediately.

The kind of narrow that made you wonder if it had ever been meant for cars. Their headlights cut through thickening shadows, the trees pressing in, the grass creeping onto the asphalt like no one had passed through in weeks.

“Okay, this is giving major Silent Hill energy,” Avaric muttered.

“I think it’s just trying to cut the traffic,” Fiyero replied, but even as he said it, he was already squinting ahead at the increasingly sketchy road.

Then the road simply… ended. Or rather, it gave up, fading into gravel and brush.

“Well, that can’t be right,” Fiyero said, flat. He slowed, already turning the wheel. “I’m heading back.”

“This is how horror movies start,” Galinda mumbled from the back, her voice soft and half-asleep. “Next thing we know, we run out of gas and someone disappears into the woods.”

Fiyero glanced at the dash.

They were low on gas.

“Ace, search for the nearest gas station,” he muttered, more to himself than anything.

Avaric laughed, until he caught Fiyero’s expression.

“Oh, you’re serious,” he said, voice dropping.

“Very,” Fiyero replied under his breath.

A long minute passed before Fiyero asked again, tapping the wheel nervously, “Did you find it?”

By now, he’d already done the math, the gas left might give them twenty more minutes 9if he drove perfectly, and they had at least an hour ahead.

“I would’ve,” Avaric said, holding up his phone, “if I had signal.”

Fiyero reached for his own phone, trying to unlock it one-handed while keeping the car steady.

“Oh my god,” Avaric swatted at it. “You’re gonna kill us all just to ask Siri for directions?”

“Do you have a better idea?” Fiyero snapped.

“I GOT IT,” Avaric declared, triumphant, waving his phone in the air. “It’s loading.”

A beat.

“It says the nearest gas station is thirty minutes away.”

“That can’t be right,” Fiyero said, grabbing his phone again.

“If you don’t believe me, give me your phone and I’ll search it for you,” Avaric said.

“You’re doing it wrong,” Fiyero muttered, already opening the map app.

“How am I doing it wrong, Fiyero? We have THE SAME map!”

“Okay, I’m not doing this. Elphaba, could you please check it?” Fiyero said, holding his phone back toward the backseat. “E?”
He adjusted the mirror to glance behind him—and froze.

Elphaba was out cold, her head resting against the door, one hand tangled in Galinda’s hair. The other was loosely intertwined with Galinda’s, resting gently over the blonde’s stomach. Galinda, equally asleep, had her head nestled in Elphaba’s lap.

"Un-belivable." Avaric said, half-laughing once he followed Fiyero's gaze.

“Look!” Fiyero said suddenly, pointing to a sign announcing a gas station ahead. He did the math again. “Fifteen minutes away.”

He glanced at the fuel gauge. “We’ve got about twenty minutes of gas left if I don’t push it.”

“Then let’s hope you’re feeling brave,” Avaric said with a grin.

The car picked up speed and, eventually, against the odds, they made it, pulling into the gas station with barely a drop of fuel to spare.

The moment the car stopped, they both let out long breaths.

That was when they heard a sleepy Galinda ask, “Are we there already?”

Fiyero laughed and said, “Not yet, G.”

“Mm, ’kay,” she murmured, burying her face in Elphaba again.

The rest of the drive settled back into its usual rhythm.

They pulled up in front of Elphaba’s house, and Fiyero threw the car into park, twisting in his seat. “Alright, Governor’s daughter.End of the line.”

Elphaba unbuckled slowly, stretching her legs. “Thanks for the ride. ”

“Anytime,” Fiyero said.

Avaric gave a little salute from the front. “Go be diplomatic and charming. You’ve got this.”

Elphaba rolled her eyes but smiled, then turned to the back. Galinda was already watching her.

“You sure you’ll survive without me?” Elphaba asked, one hand still on the door handle.

“No,” Galinda said immediately, lips curving into a pout. Then, softer, “But I’ll manage.”

Elphaba hesitated for only a second before leaning in and wrapping her arms around her. Galinda tucked her head into Elphaba’s shoulder and held on.

“Text me when you get there,” Elphaba said, voice low.

Galinda nodded, eyes still lingering even as Elphaba pulled away and stepped out. The door clicked shut.

Then the door clicked shut.

She watched Elphaba climb the steps to her house and disappear inside before letting herself collapse dramatically into the seat, arms flung over her face with a groan.

Fiyero glanced into the rearview mirror. “You good?”

“No,” Galinda said into her hands.

They both laughed.

Avaric turned in his seat, eyeing her. “You know this has a name, right?”

“Yeah,” Galinda said without missing a beat. “Emotional dependency.”

Avaric squinted. “Yeah, well… close enough.”

Fiyero started the engine again, smiling. “Hopeless.”

They made it to Fiyero’s not long after and their friends were already there.

Galinda participated just fine. Alternating between getting absolutely destroyed in every match and replying as fast as she could to Elphaba’s texts telling every boring detail of the awful dinner, the night turned out nice.

Chapter Text

The sun was high overhead, and Elphaba had no idea how she could hear Galinda’s voice from halfway across the field, but she did.

With a precision that still impressed her teammates, she stepped into the ball and sent it flying straight to Galinda’s feet.

Galinda was already sprinting toward the goal. When a defender closed in, she was a step ahead, feinting with a step-over on her right leg and cutting left, clean past the girl.

She drew her leg back to shoot but the next thing she knew, she was on the ground.

If she hadn’t been so wired on adrenaline, she might’ve stayed down; her leg was throbbing. But her blood was boiling now. She pushed herself up and immediately scanned for whoever had knocked her down.

“What is wrong with you?” she shouted, stepping right up to the redhead.

“You had it coming,” the girl snapped, shoving Galinda back.

And then it all exploded.

Players rushed in from both sides, some trying to break it up, others clearly ready to jump in.

The referee came running, whistling like crazy, already pulling the yellow card from her pocket as she waded into the mess.

“Don’t you see what she’s doing?” the redhead yelled, lifting her shirt to reveal some faint red marks on her abs. “She’s hitting me!”

“Cut it off,” the ref snapped. “I’m not saying it again.” She turned to Galinda. “You too, unless you want a card.”

“Me??” Galinda started, but before she could finish, a hand grabbed her by the waist and pulled her back.

Elphie.

“Enough,” she said firmly, steering her away. “It’s not worth it.”

She glanced at the scoreboard and then cupped Galinda’s face briefly. “Two minutes left. Score this one and let’s bring it home, okay?”

Galinda nodded, already breathing harder, but focused.

Elphaba jogged back to the goal.

And Galinda did exactly what she promised.

After the wall was set and the ref blew the whistle, Galinda stepped up and struck clean.

The crowd roared as the ball curled into the net, shaking it hard.

Without thinking, she turned and sprinted across the field, all the way to Elphaba, and leapt into her arms.

Elphaba caught her without hesitation. Neither of them noticed the crowd yelling even louder than before.

Moments later, the final whistle blew. The Lionhearts were heading back to the locker room, all laughter and post-win chaos.

They were all laughing and shouting, some already halfway through their victory chants, when Galinda pulled down her sock and saw the blood.

It had soaked through just below her shin.

That tackle, she thought. The redhead.

“Sit down,” she heard Elphaba say behind her.

Galinda didn’t even have to look to know the tone.

“I’m fine, Elphie. Really, it’s just—”

“Sit. Down.”

She sat.

Elphaba knelt in front of her, pulled her own small first-aid kit from her bag, and opened it without a word. She wet a piece of gauze with saline and started cleaning the scrape. Not especially gently.

"Ow," Galinda flinched. “Okay—ow.” She shifted her leg but Elphaba didn’t ease up. "Are you seriously mad at me for getting knocked over?”

Elphaba didn’t answer right away.

“You play like that,” she said eventually. “Throwing elbows, cutting corners, always one second from a card. You act surprised when someone gives it back?”

Galinda sighed. “So what, I deserved it?”

“No,” Elphaba said, low. “But you had it coming.”

Galinda tilted her head, trying to read her. “You think I’m dirty?”

Elphaba sat back on her heels. “I think you’re reckless,” she said. “And I think someone’s gonna take that bait one day and not stop at a shove.”

Galinda stayed quiet.

Elphaba looked up at her and her expression softened, even if her voice didn’t. “You’re too important to this team to get sent off for some petty fight. You know that, right?”

Galinda gave a half-laugh, trying to ease the tension. “You mean I’m too important to you,” she said lightly. 

She expected some kind of deflection, maybe an eye roll, but Elphaba didn’t even blink. “That too.”

Whatever joke Galinda had planned next died on her mouth. She just kept looking at her, caught off guard.

Elphaba finished tying off the bandage, not saying anything else.

Before Galinda could pull herself together, Milla strolled over.

“Holy hell, G. What did she hit you with, a truck?” She asked, looking  down at her knee. 

Galinda sat up straighter and with a grin said “well, I hit her back, didn’t I?” 

Elphaba gave her a look. Just one.

“Sorry.” Galinda sighed. 

(Not that she sounded especially sorry.)

The girls joined the rest of their team, the task of gathering their things being constantly interrupted by pictures being taken and songs being sung with both lungs. 

Eventually, after the chaos settled into everyone getting dressed and checking their phones, Milla popped her head over a locker.

“Celebration drinks at the Ozdust?”

There was a collective cheer.

Galinda turned toward Elphaba. “You’re coming, right?”

Elphaba grabbed her bag and slung it over one shoulder. “Yeah,” she said simply.

And so, off they were. 

By the time they got to the Ozdust, the place was already packed. Music thumped from inside, and a handful of their friends were waiting just past the entrance, arms already raised for hugs. 

Elphaba got nods and shoulder pats for the clean defenses, but Galinda practically got carried in on applause for her goal.

Nights like this were always good. Even Elphaba, who normally ducked attention, found herself enjoying it. It wasn’t loud in the way she usually hated, it felt earned, like recognition. 

By the looks of things, the night wasn’t ending anytime soon. Their table was already somewhere between their first and twentieth beer, no one was keeping track.

That was when a tipsy Galinda (okay, more than tipsy) suddenly gasped.

“No way,” she said, eyes narrowing across the room. Without explanation, she took off.

The rest of the group turned in time to see her throw herself into the arms of a brunette near the bar. The girl hugged her back instantly, spinning her a little.

“I can’t believe it, what are you doing here?” Galinda asked, grinning as she pulled back just enough to look at the girl. But her arms stayed exactly where they were. 

So did the brunette’s.

“Someone told me this was the place to be tonight,” the girl said, smiling easily as her hands found Galinda’s waist. “Figured I should see for myself. But what about you?”

“I go here,” Galinda said with a laugh. “Well, not here here, but Shiz. A few blocks away.”

“No way,” the girl said, stepping in a little closer like this was the best coincidence in the world.

Elphaba watched from a few feet away, still holding her drink.

Then Galinda caught the girl’s hand and tugged her toward the group.

“Guys, this is Maeve,” she said brightly. “We met at this internship thing over the summer, she’s from Gillikin.”

Maeve waved, still half-laughing. “Hi.”

“Did you just get here?” Galinda asked, turning back to her.

“Literally just walked in,” Maeve said.

Galinda lit up even more, which Elphaba hadn’t thought was possible.

“Then you’re staying with us,” she said, already scanning the crowd behind Maeve. “Did you come with anyone?”

“Yeah, two friends, they’re getting drinks.”

“Perfect! Bring them over,” Galinda said, and Elphaba didn’t miss the way she still hadn’t let go of Maeve's hand.

A few minutes later, Maeve returned with two friends, a boy and a girl, whom she introduced as Trism and Zalia.

“Well, this just got a lot more interesting,” Avaric whispered to Elphaba. She didn’t bother asking who of the three he meant, but she rolled her eyes anyway.

The group shuffled to make room while Galinda started running introductions.

Fiyero jumped in first, bonding with Maeve and Zalia over Gillikin roots. Crope and Tibbet quickly found common ground with Trism, he played soccer too, and within two minutes they’d figured out they had mutuals. They were already planning to check if they'd ever played the same pre-season circuit.

Pfannee and Shenshen, who’d been eyeing Trism from the moment he walked over, were clearly not thrilled. They hovered the conversation, occasionally throwing glances at each other when Crope or Tibbett got too many laughs out of him.

Meanwhile, Elphaba hadn’t said much. She hovered near the edge of the group, eyes flicking now and then to Galinda, and more specifically, to the way Maeve leaned in to speak close to her ear, how Galinda laughed, head thrown back. The way they stood too close, bodies angled toward each other.

Maeve’s hand brushed Galinda’s forearm and Galinda didn’t move away. 

The music shifted, lights pulsing overhead. Elphaba felt like she was watching from underwater.

Avaric, standing next to her, glanced over. Then again.

“You good?” he asked.

She shrugged.

He didn’t buy it, but he didn’t press.

Across the circle, Milla had noticed too. She made her way over, cradling her beer.

“You seeing what I’m seeing?” she murmured to Avaric.

He gave a single nod. “Hard not to.”

Together, they looked back at Galinda and Maeve, now swaying to the music, grinning like they were the only two people in the room.

“She hasn’t said a word in ten minutes,” Milla said, tilting her head toward Elphaba.

“I clocked that,” Avaric muttered.

Milla took a sip. “Should we ask her what’s going on?” 

Avaric raised an eyebrow. “You mean... if they’re hooking up?”

“Or if she wants to,” Milla added after a beat.

So they moved together, weaving through the group until they reached the girls.

Galinda was mid-spin when she noticed them.

“Look who it is,” Galinda said, catching sight of them. Still breathless, she threw an arm around Milla. “Here to tell me how amazing my goal was again?” 

“Obviously,” Milla said. Then she turned to Maeve. “Hey, I’m Milla. This is Avaric.”

“Nice to meet you both,” Maeve said, still smiling.

“Mind if I steal Galinda for a sec?”  Milla asked, already reaching for her.

Maeve shook her head. “Not at all.”

Milla caught Avaric’s eye before pulling Galinda away, leaving him behind to do what he does best: entertain. 

As they walked together toward a quieter corner of the bar,  "do you have anything to drink?” Galinda asked, oblivious, “I’m so thirsty.”

“Oh, I bet you are,” Milla said with a half-laugh. “All that dancing and stuff.”

“Right? Maeve’s such a good time," she said, grinning.

After a second, Milla finally asked. “So… are you two a thing?” 

"Me and Maeve?" Galinda frowned "No, of course not"

Milla tilted her head. “Could’ve fooled me.” 

“What? Why?” she asked, still confused. 

"I don't know," Milla shrugged lightly, “you just seem really close, that’s all.”  

"Because we are,” Galinda said, a little surprised. 

Milla didn’t push, just looked at her, and Galinda tried to follow.

“Wait… is it because we were dancing? Cause I’ve danced with like five different people tonight.”

“Sure,” Milla said. “I just didn’t see the others holding your waist.”

That made Galinda open her mouth, then pause. “We’re just friends,” she said eventually. “We go way back.”

Milla gave a small nod, like that was all she needed. “Okay.”

After that, they returned to the group. When they got back, Maeve was still talking to Avaric. Everyone else was nearby, except— 

"Where's Elphie?" Galinda she said, scanning the little cluster of their friends again. “She’s not here.” 

Milla looked around too. “Huh. She was just here- Ace, did you see Elphaba?"

"Uh, no?" 

“Wait, where’s Trism?” They didn’t have to look to know Maeve was grinning. 

There was a beat of silence.

“Guys?” Zalia’s voice cut in. “I think I found them.”

She nodded toward the street-level window. Everyone followed her gaze.

Elphaba was kissing Trism.

*****Ten minutes earlier *******

"You good?" she heard Avaric's voice.

Elphaba didn’t bother answering and he didn’t push. In fact, he and Milla left a few seconds later, heading over to Galinda and Maeve, of course. 

Feeling bitter, though she couldn't name exactly why, Elphaba decided she needed air. 

She stepped outside, pushing the door open into the cool night, and didn’t go far, just leaned against the side of the building and looked up at the sky like it might say something back.

A minute later, the door creaked again.

"Hey"

She turned to see Trism standing.

“Hey,” she said back, a little flat.

“Elphaba, right?” He stepped beside her. “I’m—”

“Trism. I’ve heard.”

He blinked like he hadn’t expected that, and she regretted it the second it left her mouth. 

“Sorry,” she added, quieter this time. “Long day.”

“You’re good,” he said easily, giving her a smile. “I heard you guys had a big win today.”

“Something like that.”

He pulled a cigarette from his pocket and held it up. “You smoke?”

“No.”

"Yeah, me neither,” he immediately said, and stuck it back in the pack.

That actually made her laugh. 

“What?” he asked, half-smiling.

“Nothing,” she said, shaking her head. "You can smoke, you know? I wont judge"

“Oh no, I don’t smoke,” he said, completely straight-faced. “It’s a metaphor.” 

Elphaba’s face shifted, caught between a laugh and genuine concern that he might be serious. 

Trism held the eye contact for one more second before cracking up.

“God, it was a joke.” She let out a breath, not hiding her relief. 

“Of course it was a joke. What do you take me for?” he asked, still laughing.

“I don’t know. I barely know you,” she defended herself.

“Well, let’s get to know each other then! I’ll ask you a question, then you ask me one. Deal?” He offered his hand. 

She eyed him. 

She wasn’t dumb, she knew what this was. Knew that look, the shift in tone. It wasn’t what she came out here for. 

Then again, she hadn’t known what she came out here for. 

She wasn’t drunk, just enough to make it look like not such a bad idea. 

And Trism, to his credit, was actually nice. And handsome. Tall, buzz cut, black leather jacket. She could roll with that. 

"Deal,” she said, shaking his hand.

“So... do you always bail on parties like that?”

“That’s your first question?”

He just smiled.

“I didn’t bail," she explained. "I just... don’t do well with people.”

"Same" he said even though he looked perfectly fine in there. She raised and eyebrow and he chuckled. "Okay, maybe not exactly the same, but I get it" 

She studied him for a beat. “You came out here just to say that?”

“Maybe.” He stepped a little closer. “Or maybe I just wanted to have a conversation without Maeve trying to set me up with half your friend group.”

Elphaba smirked, her eyes narrowing just a touch. “Oh it must be brutal, dodging every thirsty Lionheart in there.” 

“Not every one,” he says, eyes flicking down to her mouth and back. “Some people I wouldn’t dodge.” 

She tilted her head. “Is that so?”

“Is that your first question?”

"Alright." Game recognize game, she thought. "Do you always come to these things?” she decided to ask. 

“Sometimes, yeah,” he said. "I wasn’t planning on it tonight but Maeve insisted so... And what did they have on you to get you to come?” he asked. 

“I came willingly.” But for some reason, she thought of Galinda, and that made her eyes flicker away for just a second. “But I’m starting to question if it was the right call.”

“Well,” he said, stepping closer again, “for what it’s worth, I’m glad you did.”

Their eyes met again, and this time, the space between them buzzed with something sharper.

“Yeah?” she said, looking at his lips.

“Is that your next ques—”

Fuck it.

She stepped into his space, grabbed him by the lapel, and just like that: 

Elphaba was kissing Trism. 

**
Back inside, the bar erupted.

Maeve and Zalia were cheering, Fiyero was wide-eyed, but clearly impressed.

Pfannee and Shenshen looked mildly offended, more out of instinct than genuine feeling, too drunk to actually care.

Crope and Tibbett burst into laughter. They’d both bet on Trism trying, neither had believed he’d actually pull it off.

And Milla—Milla wasn’t looking at the kiss. She was looking at Galinda.

Who was looking, too.

Just a little too long.

Just a little too still.

Like her brain hadn’t caught up with her face yet.

Then, finally, she smiled.

The brightest smile she’d worn all night.

“Alright everyone,” Zalia’s voice cut through the noise, pulling Galinda out of her trance. “They’re coming back inside. Everybody circulate.”

People shifted quickly. By the time Elphaba and Trism stepped back into the bar, the group had more or less returned to their conversations like nothing had happened.

Galinda drifted back beside Maeve. Elphaba returned to their old table, Trism at her side.

It didn’t mean anything. That had been pretty clear from the moment they pulled apart, if not from the start.

Still, Trism had been a surprise; less sharp-edged than he looked, actually kind and easy to talk to. He almost made Elphaba stop regretting the whole night. Almost.

But Galinda didn’t know that.

All she knew was that Elphaba had kissed him. And now she was sitting with him.

“G, you good?” Maeve’s voice sounded far away, even though she was right beside her. “What did that poor chair do to you?”

“Huh?”

“You’re staring at it like you’re trying to set it on fire.”

“Oh. Yeah, well. I don’t think it matched my outfit,” she tried to joke, but it landed weakly. 

The mood stuck. She tried to dance, to smile, to keep the vibe light like before. But no matter where she turned, her eyes found their way back.

Now Milla and Trism were laughing, hard, at something Elphie had said. Galinda’s gaze dropped without meaning to.

Elphie could be really funny.

And Galinda knew that.

But it was a side she didn’t always show, especially not to people she barely knew.

Out of nowhere, Galinda just wanted to go home.

But apparently, so did Elphie, because the next thing she knew, she was making her way around the room, tossing goodbyes from one scattered group to another.

There were collective boos and exaggerated groans.

Galinda watched from the bar, waiting on a drink with Maeve.

When Elphaba reached Fiyero, Galinda heard him say, “You can’t possibly be heading out this soon,” pulling her into a hug.

“It’s really not that soon,” Elphaba replied.

“And how are you getting back?”

“Walking.”

“But didn’t you say it was late?” Fiyero grinned.

“Trism’s walking me,” she said flatly. “Don’t even start,” she added, already cutting off whatever teasing he had queued up.

Galinda waited. 

For her to turn around, come over, say something.

She didn’t.

Trism was already at the door by the time Elphaba caught up to him.

Galinda didn’t realize her jaw had set until Maeve glanced over.

“You good?”

Galinda blinked once, then said softly, “I’ll be right back.”

And then she was gone.

She caught up just as they turned onto the sidewalk, a little ahead of the bar lights.

“Elphaba.”

They both turned. Trism took one look at Galinda’s face and stepped back immediately. “I’ll wait over there,” he said, already moving toward the edge of the block.

Elphaba didn’t say anything, just stood there.

Galinda stopped a few feet away, arms crossed.

“You weren’t going to say goodbye?” she asked.

Elphaba’s face didn’t shift. “You looked busy.”

“With Maeve?”

A beat. “Yeah.”

Galinda let out a short breath through her nose. “Right. Of course.”

Elphaba’s eyes narrowed just slightly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Galinda said. Her voice was tighter now. “It’s just that from what I saw tonight, you didn’t seem to have a problem interacting with strangers.”

“I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Galinda laughed, flat and low. “Since when has that ever stopped you?”

“Okay,” Elphaba said. “What is this.”

Galinda opened her mouth... Then closed it. She looked like she was trying to choose a version of the truth that didn’t sound insane.

“You kissed him,” she said finally. “You kissed him and now you’re leaving with him.”

Elphaba exhaled sharply. “It wasn’t—”

“No, it’s fine,” Galinda cut in, too fast. “It just occurred to me that I’ve already said those words before. Except, last time, it was a her.”

Elphaba stared at her like she wasn’t sure she’d heard right.“Are you being serious right now?”

“I’m not being anything,” Galinda snapped. “You ignored me. You didn’t say goodbye, and then you left. Just like you left with Remy.”

“I thought we were over that.”

Galinda’s voice cracked. “How am I supposed to get over something that keeps happening?”

“It’s not the same thing.”

“Well, it sure feels like it.”

Elphaba shook her head. “You want to talk about ignoring people? You were all over Maeve all night.”

“Oh my God,” Galinda said, throwing up her hands. “Are we seriously doing this?”

“I don’t know. Are we?” Elphaba asked, too calm now. “Because I’m starting to think you have a problem with me kissing people.”

Galinda’s head jerked back. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

Galinda stood frozen, caught between outrage and confusion.

Elphaba’s voice sharpened. “You didn’t even look at me all night. You were draped over Maeve, having the time of your life. Same thing with Avaric at the bonfire. But suddenly, the second I’m with someone—”

“That is not—” Galinda shook her head, like she couldn’t even process it. “You’re turning this into something it’s not.”

“Am I?” Elphaba snapped. “Because it feels like the only time you actually see me is when someone else does first.”

Galinda flinched. “That’s not fair.”

“No,” Elphaba said. “It probably isn’t.”

They stared at each other, both breathing too fast for how still they were.

Galinda swallowed as her arms dropped, slowly.

“I just…” she started, then stopped. Her throat felt tight. “I just wanted you to say goodbye.”

Elphaba didn’t move. Didn’t soften. Just waited.

Galinda looked down, then up again, eyes shining more with frustration than tears. “I don’t know what this is,” she said. “I don’t know why I’m—” Her voice broke a little. 

 “You’re right. Okay? You’re right. You get to do what you want. You get to kiss people, and go home with them, and not say goodbye if you don’t feel like it.”

Elphaba shifted slightly. “That’s not what I meant.”

But Galinda kept going, fast now, barely pausing to breathe.

“I don’t even know how this happened. Everything just— it was all so fast... I was so happy to see Maeve and she’s really just a friend, I swear. And one second you were there and the next you weren’t and then you were with him—" she cut herself off with a shaky breath.

"I didn’t know how to be near you, or even if you’d want me to, so I stayed away." She breathed. "And then you left, and you didn’t even look at me, and that hurt, Elphie. It really hurt.”

She was unraveling now, completely unguarded.

“Because I hate it when we fight. I don’t even know why we’re fighting again. Just please, Elphie—"

Her voice cracked fully. “Please, don’t push me away.”

Elphaba stared at her.

For a second, she didn’t say anything. Like she was trying to figure out what had just happened, what Galinda had just said. 

And maybe she didn’t understand all of it. 

But she heard the part that mattered.

“Why wouldn’t I want you near me?”

Her voice wasn’t sharp anymore, just quiet. Honest in a way that made it hard to look at her directly.

“I always want you near me.”

Galinda didn't know what to do with what she said. Neither with what she was feeling. 

After a beat of silence that felt like eternity,  Elphaba exhaled and kept going :

“And it wasn’t like Remy, you know?" 

Another beat. 

“I know it might’ve looked that way, but it wasn’t.”

Galinda kept watching her as Elphaba went on. 

“Trism’s… nice. He’s easy to talk to. And yeah, we kissed, but it wasn’t—” she shook her head, frustrated with the shape of the sentence. “It didn’t mean anything."

Galinda’s lips pressed together like she didn’t trust herself to speak. 

Elphaba looked at her, her voice softer now. “I just wanted to go home and he offered to walk with me, keep me company.”

“I would've done it" Galinda said before she could think, her breath catching a little. "If you wanted company, you could have asked me”

Elphaba hesitated. “You were with Maeve, I—I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“She’s just a friend,” Galinda said, too fast. 

She winced, frustrated, then tried again, slower.

“I didn’t even realize it might’ve looked like… something, until Milla asked me about it. I mean, Maeve and I—we've always been like that, I didn’t think it meant anything.”

Her eyes flicked up to Elphaba’s.

“But if you’d said something… I would’ve gone with you. Of course I would.”

She took a breath, almost like she didn’t want to say the next part but couldn’t stop it. “I’d be more than happy to go with you. Anywhere.”

That last word slipped out softer than she meant it, and it hung there. 

"I'm sorry," Elphaba said after a while. "For not saying goodbye, I mean. It was a mistake, I won't do it again" 

 “I'm sorry too." Galinda said, her eyes dropping. “I shouldn’t have...” she trailed off, shaking her head. “I just didn’t know what to do.”

"Hey," Elphaba tilted her head slightly, trying to catch Galinda’s eyes." You've got nothing to be sorry for. Okay?" 

Galinda hummed and gave a small nod, trying to smile.

For a second, neither of them said anything.

Then Elphaba shifted, glancing down the street.

“Well,” she said, almost to herself. “I should go.”

Galinda didn’t answer. 

But her shoulders tensed slightly, and whatever faint brightness had returned to her face began to fade again. 

“Unless…” she said, hesitating. “You want to come with me?”

Galinda looked up. Her whole face lifted in an instant.

“You want me to?”

Elphaba gave the smallest nod. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”

“Then yes,” she said, already stepping closer. “Of course I do.”

Elphaba’s mouth twitched like she might smile. “Alright then. Do you wanna go and say your goodbyes? I’ll let Trism know his services are no longer needed.”

And that’s how it went. Galinda slipped back inside and kissed her friends goodnight. She didn’t explain much, but no one really asked.

By the time she stepped out again, Trism was heading in. He caught her eye and offered a small, knowing smile.

“Take care, you two, alright?”

Galinda nodded, smiling back before turning toward Elphaba, who was waiting on the sidewalk.

They walked side by side, not saying much. The air had cooled. Somewhere along the way, Galinda’s buzz faded just enough to feel real again. She wasn’t entirely sober, but she was clear now.

And beside her, Elphaba didn’t pull away.

Chapter Text

After that day, the group fell back into their usual rhythm.

Between classes, exams, and practice, routine had swallowed them up in no time, like nothing had changed.

Except something had changed.

Elphaba kept replaying their last fight in her head.

At the time, she hadn’t realized just how much it hurt her to see Galinda sad, let alone because of her.

But the more she thought about it, the more certain she was: she never wanted to see Galinda hurt again.

She’d always had a protective side, shaped by years of having to take care of her sister (and herself).

But now, it was different. Ever since her brain had filed Galinda being sad under physical threat, that instinct had started leaking out in ways she hadn’t entirely meant.

It happened for the first time in the cafeteria.

The group was buzzing, word had gotten around about a fight between Trenton Torreance and Boq Woodsman.

Galinda walked up just as Avaric leaned over the table with the grin of someone holding the most delicious tea.

“Have you heard?”

“Heard?” Galinda matched his grin as she sat down. “Darling, I saw the whole thing.”

The table erupted into noise, pleas of tell us everything, exaggerated gasps. Even Elphaba, eyes still on her book, started to listen.

“So,” Galinda began, slapping her palms against the table for effect. “There I was, walking past the trophy hall, when I heard—”

“Wait, the trophy hall?” Crope cut in. “I heard it happened in the parking lot.”

Galinda rolled her eyes. “I’ll get there, if you let me. As I was saying: I was passing the trophy hallway when I heard Trenton shouting for Boq. Someone told him Boq was heading to the parking lot, so obviously I followed. Outside, he saw Boq and—”

“Is it true he yanked him off his motorcycle while it was still moving?” Avaric gasped.

“He didn’t—where are you getting this from? It’s not a movie,” Galinda said, incredulous. “ANYWAY. Boq was trying to start his bike when Trenton saw him and started screaming, ‘ANYONE TRIES TO HELP HIM GETS BEAT INSTEAD.’ So everyone just stepped back. And when he got to Boq—”

“He threw Boq against someone’s car and smashed it, didn’t he?” Pfannee cut in.

“No, he didn’t—” Galinda tried to protest but Milla jumped in.

“My god, what did Boq even do to him? Trenton’s definitely getting expelled.”

“Let me finish—” Galinda was cut off again by Fiyero.

“Oh, is it true Trenton lifted him up with one arm?”

“Yes, but it wasn’t—”

Before she could explain, someone else interrupted. Galinda was running out of patience when—

“Will you let her fucking finish?”

Elphaba didn’t raise her voice, didn’t look up from her book. But it cut through the noise like a knife.

The table fell silent. Avaric raised his hands, amused, biting back a grin.

“Thank you, Elphie,” Galinda said sweetly, before turning back to the group with renewed fire.

“As I was saying, Boq was apparently being inconvenient to Trenton’s girlfriend. So Trenton grabs him off his bike, lifts him right off the ground, and yells: ‘IF YOU EVER COME NEAR HER AGAIN, I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU.’” She deepened her voice to mimic him.

“My god, this Boq guy,” Milla muttered. “It’s not the first time I’ve heard of him creeping on girls.”

“The guy’s a prick,” Fiyero added. “He got what he deserved.”

“Yeah, isn’t he the one who’s always lurking behind Galinda?” Pfannee said. “Watch out, G, now that Trenton’s girl’s off the market.”

Fiyero smacked him lightly on the head. “It’s called tact, moron.”

“Geez, it was a joke!” Pfannee rubbed the spot, pouting.

“Yeah, well, when your jokes aren’t funny, you’re the joke,” Elphaba said, standing up smoothly and tucking her book under her arm.

The table froze for a second. Fiyero's eyebrows shot up. Even Pfannee didn’t have a comeback this time.

Elphaba looked at Galinda. “You coming?”

“For… what?” Galinda asked, thrown off. 

“Practice.”

“Oh. Right.” She stood quickly, still half a step behind, and followed Elphaba out. The group stayed quiet, heads turning as the two walked away.

“…Don’t you also have practice?” Avaric asked Milla, not bothering to hide the smirk this time.

The second time it happened was a few days after that. Friday, to be exact.

As usual for Fridays, there were expectations of a loud night. Fiyero had offered up his place. Normally that would’ve been enough. 

But this time, he was obnoxiously persistent about throwing an actual party, and that kind of insistence could only mean one thing: there were women involved. Or men. Either way, he was on a mission.

And people could never really say no to him. So apparently, the whole school was going.

Elphaba and Galinda had just stepped out of class when Fiyero caught up to them in the hallway. He fell into step beside them and immediately resumed his self-appointed mission of inviting every single person they passed.

Even—

“Galinda!” someone called behind them.

They turned. It was Boq.

“Are you going tonight?” he asked, boldly, if one might add.

“Uh…” Galinda started, stepping slightly closer to him, mostly to keep other people from hearing this weird-ass interaction. “I think so, yeah.”

Fiyero had already moved ahead, chatting with someone else, but Elphaba was suddenly tuned in, ears sharp.

“Well, I think I’m going too,” Boq said.

“Cool,” Galinda replied, trying not to be rude. “I’ll see you there, I guess.”

She was already half-turned to go when he added, “I hope, uh… I hope you’ll save a dance for me.”

The audacity.

Galinda opened her mouth to say something, but Elphaba had already stepped in.

“She’ll be busy tonight,” she said, stepping forward and gently placing a hand on Galinda’s arm. Not grabbing, just guiding her away. “But thanks, though.”

And that was that.

Galinda blinked, then reached out and grabbed Fiyero by the collar, dragging him along so they could escape the situation fast.

**

They got to Fiyero’s place around nine. The music was already going, but not loud enough to shake the walls yet. The door was propped open with a sneaker and the living room lights were dimmed.

Galinda stepped inside first, scanning the room automatically. Elphaba hadn’t arrived yet, not that she was looking.

“Drinks are in the bathtub,” someone yelled as they walked past.

Milla gave Galinda a look that said welcome to hell, then they headed to the kitchen to find Avaric retelling the same story about getting chased off the quad by campus security.

Every time he told it, the number of guards increased.

There were cheers when they showed up, and soon Galinda had a beer in hand, courtesy of Tibbett. She was halfway through it when some guy she barely knew from group projects wandered up. Tall, smelled like cologne that came free with a purchase.

“Hey, you alone tonight?” he asked.

Galinda turned to him. Really looked at him. She was used to attention, but this kind always amused her the most.

“Am I alone tonight?” she repeated, voice sweet. “No one should be alone tonight.”

Then she turned slightly, gesturing casually behind her. “Do I look alone?”

The guy followed her gesture and found ten people staring directly at him. Avaric paused mid-sentence. Pfannee stopped dancing. Milla raised her cup without smiling. Even Crope, who rarely looked up from his phone, glanced over.

For a moment, no one said anything. The silence was brutal.

The guy froze. “Right, uh... My bad.”

He slipped off just as someone else walked into the room.

“Elphaba!” Tibbett called.

She stepped in holding a dark bottle of something suspicious-looking, raised an eyebrow. “What did I miss?”

“Just Galinda and her extra charm,” Fiyero said, strolling over. “What is it with weird guys and you tonight?”

Galinda shrugged innocently but it was Elphaba who answered that.

“What do you mean?” She asked.

“That’s the second one today who thought he had a shot,” he said. “First Boq, now… whatever that was.”

“Wait, who now?” Elphaba frowned.

“You just missed him,” Fiyero said. “It was beautiful. G stared him down in front of everyone. Total social death.”

Avaric perked up. “Wait—what happened with Boq?”

“Ugh, he asked me to save a dance for him,” Galinda said, rolling her eyes.

“Yikes. Did you say yes?” Milla asked.

“I didn’t say anything. Elphie stepped in before I could.”

“Oh, where would we be without Elphie,” Avaric said, swooning dramatically, “our knight in shining armor.”

“Don’t you have anywhere else to be?” Elphaba asked, deadpan. “Climbing a tree? Falling from it, perhaps?”

The whole group cracked up, laughter bursting out as Avaric turned bright red at the reminder of that particular story.

Elphaba was laughing too, but she didn’t miss the moment. With a quiet motion, her hand found the small of Galinda’s back and she asked, just for her, “You good?”

Galinda nodded. And somehow, it felt like more than just answering the question.

The rest of the party was good. The girls didn’t stay long, though. The next day was game day, and they all knew better than to show up hungover.

They met for lunch at Dilly’s the next afternoon. Milla and Galinda were already there when Elphaba walked in, hair damp, hoodie slightly crooked, earbuds still tangled around her hand.

“You’re late,” Galinda said, scooting over without being asked.

“I had to stop by the field,” Elphaba replied, dropping into the booth.

“For what, marking your territory?” Milla teased.

Elphaba didn’t dignify it with an answer. She stole a fry from Galinda’s plate instead.

They lingered at Dilly’s longer than usual, all three of them too lazy to move.

Eventually they wandered back to Galinda’s dorm. No one said it out loud, but none of them really wanted to be alone before the game.

They sprawled across the room. Milla tried to nap on the floor, Elphaba lay half-off the bed with her eyes closed, headphones in but not playing anything and Galinda painted her nails in soft, distracting strokes, then undid them just to do them again.

“I hate night games,” Galinda said eventually.

“They’re dramatic,” Milla mumbled, eyes still shut.

“I like dramatic,” Galinda replied, but she didn’t sound like she meant it.

Elphaba opened one eye. “You nervous?”

Galinda didn’t answer right away. Just held her hand up to the light, checking the streaks on her nail polish.

“A little,” she said.

Elphaba sat up. “You’ll be fine. We’ll win.”

Galinda smiled faintly, not quite sure it was the score making her nervous.

They lingered in that calm for a while. But as the hours passed, the energy shifted. It was finally time to head to the field.

By the time they got there, the bleachers were already filling up. The game was at home, and home games always brought a crowd

Inside the locker room, pre-game chaos had already taken over. Jerseys being tugged on, laces tightened, someone yelling for hair ties. 

Galinda adjusted her shin guards like they were designer heels. “So how many elbows do you think I can get away with tonight?”

Elphaba didn’t even look up from tying her laces. “Two. Three if you smile when you do it.”

“You like it when I play mean.” Galinda said with a smirk. 

Elphaba glanced over. “I like when you play smart. There’s a difference.”

Galinda made a face. “Ugh, you’re turning into Coach.”

But Elphaba’s voice shifted, just slightly. “Hey. Seriously. These girls look up to you. If you run, they run. If you push, they push. If you lose your temper…”

“They'll burn the place down,” Galinda finished quietly.

“Exactly. So keep your head, you’ve got this.”

Galinda met her eyes for a beat longer than necessary, then nodded and stood.

“Alright, ladies,” she called out, loud and clear. “Let’s show them what home court feels like!”

The room erupted in cheers and applause. And then, surprising even herself, Galinda turned back to Elphaba.

“You wanna add something, Cap?”

The noise cut out almost instantly. Elphaba stood a little straighter and looked around at her teammates.

“You all know what to do,” she said, voice even. “We’ve trained for this. Back each other up. Keep your heads.”

She glanced at Galinda, then back at the group.

“And if anyone gives you trouble out there?” A beat. “Hit back harder. But clean.”

Laughter broke through the tension. Someone yelled “Let’s go!” and someone else started clapping.

Elphaba sat back down like it was nothing. Galinda bumped her shoulder as she passed.

“That was almost inspirational.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

The sky was already dusky by the time they walked out. Field lights snapped on above them, casting sharp white over the green, making everything feel more serious than it had an hour ago.

As soon as Galinda and Elphaba stepped out of the tunnel, the bleachers roared.

It wasn’t polite applause. It wasn’t even coordinated. It was loud, messy, overexcited noise. Students on their feet, some shouting names, others just screaming because everyone else was. 

Galinda took it in with a small smile, stretching her arms overhead like it was no big deal. Elphaba didn’t smile, but she gave a small nod toward the crowd, not exactly playing along, but not pretending it wasn’t happening either.

Their teammates jogged out behind them, but it was clear who the crowd had come to see.

By the time they reached the bench, the adrenaline was already setting in.

The team huddled, the coach ran through last notes, but Galinda barely heard it. She was scanning the field, shifting from foot to foot like she was ready to run.

When the whistle blew and the game was about to start, Galinda caught Elphaba’s eye once more.

“See you out there?” she asked quietly.

Elphaba met her gaze, steady and sure.

“Always.”

Then they split, Galinda forward, Elphaba toward the net.

The first few minutes were tight. Their opponents were fast and organized, sharper than anything the Lionhearts had faced this season. For every pass they made, there was pressure. For every shot, a wall of defenders.

But the Lionhearts adjusted.

Midway through the first half, they earned a corner kick. Galinda jogged to the corner flag, breathing hard, wiping her hands on her shorts. She locked eyes with Milla across the box, gave a tiny nod.

The kick curved beautifully into the air. Milla rose above the defenders and met it with a clean header.

Goal.

The bleachers exploded. 1–0.

The Lionhearts held the lead through the rest of the half, but five minutes into the second, it slipped.

A bad pass in midfield, a missed tackle, and suddenly the other team was through. A clean strike past Elphaba’s gloves.

1–1.

The momentum wobbled.

Galinda clenched her jaw, pushed harder.

Ten minutes later, Gya stole a pass at midfield and sprinted toward goal. She didn’t wait. Just took her shot early, low and fast.

Goal.

2–1. The crowd roared again.

But barely a minute after kickoff, the other team came back with a vengeance. One perfect pass slipped through the Lionhearts’ defense and they were sprinting for a counterattack.

Galinda chased, heart pounding.

Then came the whistle.

A penalty. Lionhearts’ defender had clipped the forward’s foot in the box.

Groans echoed across the field.

Elphaba stepped up to the line.

She didn’t flinch. Just rolled her shoulders back and planted her feet, eyes locked on the ball.

The striker took a breath. Ran.

Shot.

Elphaba dove, fast, clean, hands outstretched.

Caught it.

She caught it.

The stadium went wild. The bench screamed. Galinda shouted something she couldn’t even hear over the roar.

A few more tense minutes.

Then, final whistle.

They’d done it.

2–1. Another win for the Lionhearts.

Galinda barely registered the sound before her body moved, arms in the air, a shout tearing from her throat. The team surged forward in a tangle of cheers, hugging, stumbling, collapsing into each other.

At the goal, Elphaba was mobbed. Milla tackled her in a half-hug, half-headlock. The others screamed full-volume nonsense. Even Coach was grinning.

They jogged back to the bench together, still catching their breath, waving at the crowd.

Galinda blew a kiss toward a cluster of students holding up a glittery sign that just said G when Boq pushed his way forward.

“Hey, Galinda!” he shouted over the noise. “Why don’t you assist me with something later?”

Galinda barely had time to react before—

“HEY.”

Elphaba’s voice cut through everything. She was already moving, storming down the sideline, not caring that they weren’t even on the same level.

“You’ve said enough,” she said, voice sharp and low, finger pointed directly at him.

The noise didn’t stop, but it shifted. The crowd quieted just enough to listen. 

Boq held her gaze, like he might laugh, like he might talk back.

But something in Elphaba’s eyes made him flinch. That was enough.

“Get him out of here,” she said.

And then, without needing more, Crope, Tibbett, and some guy Galinda didn’t even know had grabbed him by the arms and started dragging him off.

It was over.

But the whole crowd had seen it. The silence wasn’t total, but it was thick. They’d stopped moving, stopped celebrating. 

Everyone was watching Elphaba. 

Every teammate. Every stranger. The stands, the sideline, the bench.

Elphaba stood perfectly still, like she’d only just realized what she’d done. Her shoulders tightened, her mouth opened, then closed.

Galinda didn’t let it last.

She stepped forward, arms up again, and turned her body toward the crowd, not Elphaba.

“Is this a game or a funeral?” she shouted, louder than before. “We fucking won!”

That cracked it open. A full-body roar from the bleachers. Applause, whistles, drums, feet stomping against the stands. Celebration, restored.

Elphaba exhaled. And if some people kept glancing at her after that, well. No one blamed them.

But most eyes were back on Galinda, right where she wanted them.

And where Elphaba needed them to be.

Eventually, the team started heading toward the locker rooms, flushed with adrenaline and sweat and joy. The game was over. The night wasn’t.

Galinda lingered just behind them, tugging off her headband, her hair a mess of curls and effort. She turned, searching for something, someone.

Elphaba was still near the bench, half-watching the crowd file out, half not really seeing any of it.

Galinda approached slowly, not interrupting. Just standing beside her.

“You okay?” she asked.

Elphaba’s jaw shifted slightly, like she wasn’t sure how to answer. Then she nodded once.

“I didn’t mean to cause a scene,” she muttered. “I just—”

“You didn’t.” Galinda’s voice was quiet but certain. “He did.”

Elphaba glanced at her, then away again. “Still. I don’t usually… do that.”

Galinda gave a small, crooked smile. “I know. That’s why it meant something.”

They stood in silence for a beat. Then Elphaba looked back at Galinda and asked softly, “Are you okay?”

Galinda held her gaze, steady, intense. Big brown eyes looking right through Elphaba, no room to look away or hide.

“More than okay. Because of you.”

Elphaba swallowed hard and broke eye contact immediately.

Galinda saw it, but said nothing more. Instead, she nudged Elphaba gently.

“Come on, Captain. Let’s go celebrate.”

**

Galinda sat in silence, twisting the loose thread of a pillow. It was only about five minutes, but it felt like an eternity before she exhaled. "I don't know what to say."

Dr. Vess, her therapist, looked at her calmly over the rim of her glasses. "How's school been?"

"Fine," Galinda said, a quick, automatic response. She added, almost to herself, "I guess."

Dr. Vess leaned back in her chair. "Any episodes this week?"

"No. I haven't."

"And the breathing exercises?"

"I didn't really get a chance to use them, actually." Galinda's eyes drifted, revisiting a memory.

"That's good to hear. So, nothing too stressful?"

"Well… not stressful," Galinda said slowly, "but weird stuff did happen."

"Maybe we can talk about that?" Dr. Vess’s voice was gentle, a subtle invitation.

Galinda shrugged, a small motion that said, I'm here, might as well. "So last week, I saw a guy, Boq, get beat up for messing with someone's girlfriend."

Dr. Vess's eyebrows lifted slightly. "Beat up?"

"Beat. Like, literally. In the parking lot. People saw."

"And you were there?"

"Yeah. I mean, I didn't enjoy it, but… it's not like he didn't have it coming. He has a history of creeping on girls." Dr. Vess listened, a quiet nod of understanding.

"But that wasn’t the end of it," Galinda went on. "Pfannee made this stupid comment that I’d be his next target."

"And why would he say that?"

"Because he's a jerk," Galinda said, flatly. "But also, he wasn't wrong." She paused, picking at the thread again. "Boq had tried to talk to me before, and I always managed to brush him off. This time, it was different."

"How so?"

"Well, on Friday, he came up to me and asked me to save him a dance." Galinda wrinkled her nose. "Which—ugh. Gross."

“Usually I know how to get out of those situations,” Galinda explained, her voice low. “But when Boq showed up, I don’t know. I guess all the stuff from the week kind of got to me. I froze.”

“When you say you froze, what do you remember?” Dr. Vess asked, her voice calm.

“I remember Elphie pulling me away,” Galinda said. “Like, one second he was there, and the next, she was just... there.”

“And Elphaba helped you get out of the situation?”

“Yeah. But it happened again.” Dr. Vess tilted her head, listening. “After the game on Saturday, we were celebrating, and Boq showed up, out of nowhere, and yelled something disgusting at me.” Galinda’s face twisted as she replayed the memory.

“And that’s when Elphie came charging at him. In front of everyone. She told him he’d said enough, and then got the boys to take him away.”

She paused, a small, awestruck laugh escaping her. “It was insane. I’ve never seen her like that. She hates being the center of attention. That was probably the first time she's spoken in front of a crowd without scripting it a thousand times.”

Dr. Vess gave her a moment, then asked gently, “That sounds like a big moment. Has Elphaba ever stepped in for you like that before?”

Galinda hesitated. “I mean… yeah. I guess so.” She shifted in her seat, thinking back. “There was this time at lunch. Everyone was interrupting me, and I didn’t even notice how annoyed I was getting until Elphie snapped at them. Told them to let me finish. It shut the whole table up.” 

Her voice softened, her brow furrowed like she was puzzling something out. "And she told off Pfannee when he made that gross joke. Called him a joke back, actually, which was… kind of wild, honestly."

Dr. Vess smiled just a little. "Sounds like she’s been watching out for you."

"Yeah," Galinda said slowly. "She has." There was a pause.

"But it’s weird," she went on, her tone quieter. "Elphie hates being looked at. She barely talks when we’re with people she doesn't know. She always scripts things in her head first. And this? With Boq?" Galinda looked down, fidgeting with her sleeve. "She didn’t even flinch. Just marched right up and shut it down."

Dr. Vess waited patiently.

"She was furious," Galinda said. "Not scared, not embarrassed. Just… completely focused."

"And how did that feel? Having her step in like that?"

Galinda blinked slowly, still looking down. "Good," she admitted. "Really good." Then, quieter, the word a small breath of air. "Safe."

Galinda shifted in her seat again, then gave a short laugh. “Anyway. She’s basically my personal bodyguard now. Lucky me.”

Dr. Vess smiled softly but didn’t push. “Well… we’re just about out of time for today.”

Galinda sat up a little straighter, already grabbing her bag. “Right. Yeah.”

Dr. Vess glanced at her notepad, then back up. “Maybe next week we can talk a bit more about what it means to feel safe. And what it’s like when someone makes space for you.”

Galinda nodded quickly. “Sure. Sounds good.” But she didn’t quite meet her eyes.

“Take care of yourself, Galinda.”

“You too, Dr. Vess.”

After the session, Galinda went on with her day. Or at least, she tried to.

She hadn’t really thought about the mess of events from the week. Or how Elphie had been there, somehow, in every single one of them.

But now, walking into her building, she couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Especially the game night.

“Hey, Galinda!” Boq had shouted over the noise. “Why don’t you assist me with something later?”

She’d barely had time to react before—

“HEY.”

Elphaba’s voice cut through everything. She was already moving, storming down the sideline, not caring that they weren’t even on the same level.

“You’ve said enough,” she told him, voice sharp and low, finger pointed right at him. 

“Get him out of here,” she added, calm and certain.

And just like that, Crope, Tibbett, and some guy Galinda didn’t even know were dragging Boq away.

It was over.

Had Elphie gone insane?

She was still thinking about it as she unlocked her dorm. Two girls passed her in the hallway and greeted her by name. Galinda smiled back, polite and warm, but she didn’t know who they were.

That happened sometimes.

Okay, a lot.

Everybody knew who she was. But "everybody" was a lot of people. And her memory wasn’t the best, so.

The thing is, Galinda loved the spotlight. And it loved her back. She was known because she made sure she was known.

Elphie, though…

Her thoughts dragged her back again.

Elphie hated the spotlight. She’d been taught to, growing up with a father who barked at her not to “spread out” or draw attention.

But still, she had presence. Elphaba didn’t try to be seen, but people noticed her anyway.

By the time Galinda stepped into her room, all she wanted was to throw herself onto her bed and not move until tomorrow. But she couldn’t. Her bed was covered in books. She’d spent the whole day before therapy studying for her exams.

Her mind wandered again.

If only I had one third of Elphie’s brain, she thought, moving the books to her desk.

Elphie was brilliant. Patient. Always helping Galinda or one of their friends, even when the subjects weren’t her own. People always turned to her, and somehow, she always came through.

(Galinda liked to believe Elphie had a little extra patience for her, though.)

She could listen to her speak for hours and she never got tired of it; Elphie explaining things, thinking out loud, her voice steady and careful.

And Elphie didn’t talk much. Not with everyone.

But she was still team captain. Still the one everyone looked to when things went sideways. Elphie didn’t speak often, but when she did, people listened. Because it always meant something.

No wonder she was captain.

Galinda thought about the pep talk Elphie gave her before the game, how she’d said the other girls looked up to Galinda.

And Galinda wondered if Elphie even had a clue how much those girls looked up to her too.

As if summoned by the thought, her phone buzzed.

Elphie <3:
hey
everything good?

Galinda smiled.

On the other side of the screen, Elphaba was definitely pacing, chewing her thumbnail, trying not to seem like she cared too much.

But she did.

She hadn’t really been able to stop thinking about the game.

About that moment with Boq.

And the way Galinda’s eyes had held hers afterward. She worried if Galinda was okay now. Had she eaten? Slept? Drunk any water? 

So Elphaba asked, trying to sound casual.

The response came quick.

Galinda:
yeah all good
just tired lol

And after a beat:
why

Elphie <3:
no reason
just checking in

She didn’t know what else to say. So she just stared at the little typing bubble, popping in and out of existence, until her phone buzzed again—a call.

She picked up immediately. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Galinda said, her voice sounding like a smile. “What are you doing?”

“Just finished studying. My brain’s officially soup.”

“Ugh, tell me about it… Hey, speaking of, I think one of the books I borrowed might actually be yours?”

Or it’s mine, and I just want it to be yours, hard to say.

She didn’t say that part.

“Which book?” Elphaba asked. “Tell me the title and I’ll check if I have it here.”

“I don’t know,” Galinda said quickly. “But I feel like you should come over and help me figure it out.”

A beat of silence followed, then Galinda’s voice came back, lighter, like a bribe. “I have snacks.” 

She didn’t.

Elphaba didn’t even pause. “Right. Yeah, I could go for snacks. I’ll be there in ten.”

And that was that.

Both of them hung up a little too quickly.

Both of them, now, staring at the same screen, smiling just a little bit at nothing.

As promised, a few minutes later, someone knocked on Galinda’s door.

She opened it with a grin, just to find Elphie standing there holding a pizza.

Galinda squinted at her. “How’d you know I didn’t have any snacks?”

Elphaba shrugged, stepping past her. “I know a liar when I hear one.”

And as the door closed behind her, they were happy to exist, just the two of them.

Chapter Text

Elphaba always thought their house was too big.

The corridors stretched like museum halls, their marble floors polished to a glacial sheen. Portraits of dead Thropps watched from the walls, their oil-paint eyes following her as she passed. Even the fireplace in her bedroom, never quite warmed the space.

It wasn’t a home. It was a mausoleum with chandeliers.

But it hadn’t always been like this.

When she was little, they lived in a smaller house on the countryside.

Frexspar was always away (work, always work), but when he returned, he brought trinkets from his travels: a music box for Nessa, a book of maps for Elphaba, postcards with clumsy ink handwriting, sometimes even potted plants Melena would place by the windows.

On rare nights, they’d eat together. Actual family meals, not the sterile dinners full of politicians and clients.

It would be just the four of them, and Frex would actually laugh.

Then Melena died, and Frex buried his grief in ledgers and legislation.

They moved to the city, “For the children,” he told the papers, but he was never home.

The new house was a stage for his political theater: dinners with ambassadors, galas with sponsors. Elphaba and Nessa were props in his performance, well-dressed, well-spoken, well-controlled.

To him, parenting was about providing.

Elphaba and Nessarose had the best of everything. Schools, tutors, clothes.  Nothing was ever missing, except for love, maybe.

When Elphaba clung to soccer, he didn’t approve. It was too loud, too messy, too ordinary. He would’ve preferred something more dignified, athletics that belonged in a resume.

But he didn't forbid it either. He funded the team’s gear, paid for their travel, even sponsored a tournament in Quadling Country once.

The check was his attendance.

But he layered it with obligations. Classical music lessons, art history intensives. And fucking fencing.

Elphaba hated fencing.

She was good at it, better than she wanted to be. She reached a national B ranking before quitting, just shy of an A.

Frex wasn’t happy about it, but he'd have to actually talk to her to be mad at her. His lecture was interrupted by a call from work, and that was that.

Everything he pushed was designed to make her fit. To move through the rooms he did. The kind of rooms he expected her to live in.

She could’ve moved out if she wanted to. But she stayed.

First for Nessarose, and then, after Nessa left for boarding school, because it was familiar. Because the staff had grown to feel more like family than her own blood.

And because, though she’d never admit it, she feared that if she left, she’d only hear from her father through the news.

So there she was, walking the mausoleum halls, aka leaving her room, on her way to meet Fiyero, who had just texted i’m here.

She was almost at the front door, already hearing the unmistakable buzz of his car horn, when her father’s voice floated out, 

“Elphaba.”

It came from his office. Barely audible, but of course he wouldn’t raise his voice.

She paused, closed her eyes for a second, then turned and made her way there.

“Father. I didn’t know you were home.”

She really didn’t.

“Arrived last night,” he said, focused on his computer screen.  “Do I need to remind you that tomorrow we’re hosting the annual Emerald Gala?”

We're hosting? Elphaba thought but didn't say it.

Frexspar’s office was, like the rest of the house, a cold place.

Dark wooden furniture. Bookshelves stacked with volumes no one had touched in years. Not even Elphaba. She avoided going in there as much as possible, because of her.

A massive portrait of Melena, her mother, hung above the desk.

Elphaba hated that painting.

The artist had given her mother sad, lifeless eyes, like he’d already known how the story would end.

The only reason Frex kept it, she was sure, was because it hung high enough that he didn’t have to look at it.

“No, Father. I’m aware,” she said.

“Good.” He clicked something, still not meeting her eyes. “The event begins at seven, but you're expected at six. Photographers will be present, so will the press.”

"Right."

“Do you have something appropriate to wear?”

“I was thinking my green jersey. Go Lionhearts.”

He didn’t acknowledge the joke
.
“This is a formal event.”

“Then maybe the gold one.”

That earned her a flat, unamused glance.

“Feel free to buy something you like,” he said. “The tailors are at your disposal as well.”

Elphaba didn’t flinch. “I’ll figure it out. Anything else?”

He leaned back in his chair, folding his hands. “Your sister will be picked up from the airport at 1 p.m.”

“Nessa’s coming?” A flicker of real emotion crossed her face.

“Yes. If you want to be there when she lands, inform one of the drivers.”

He knew she liked to pick Nessa up just as much as Nessa liked to be picked up.

“Alright. Thanks, Father.”

She was almost out the door when he added,  “And Elphaba—tell your friend it’s not polite to honk repeatedly outside someone’s home. Next time, have him wait inside.”

Of course. Wouldn’t be a conversation without a scolding at the end.

“Sure. I’ll let him know.”

And with that, she left.

As she stepped outside, Fiyero immediately laid on the horn again, grinning like an idiot.

"Hit that thing one more time and you're the one getting hit next," she warned, then climbed into the car since the top was down.

"Someone’s in a mood," he said, leaning over to kiss her cheek. “Wanna talk about it?”

"Not much to talk about, actually." Which was true.

"Alright then," he said, throwing the car into gear. "Since I’m in such a good mood and you’re not, I’ll let you pick the playlist." He offered her his unlocked phone as they pulled away from the house.

It was a warm, stupidly beautiful day. They were heading to the next town over, Remy had invited them to watch a softball game she was playing in.

Elphaba hadn’t seen her since the bonfire, but they’d kept in touch. Mostly casual texts. Remy sent her TikTok's sometimes, which Elphaba didn’t even use, but still watched anyway.

The drive was just under forty minutes, and peaceful.

Elphaba didn’t know much about softball. She knew it was kind of like baseball, but then again, she didn’t know much about baseball either.

Still, she figured it was worth going. Remy had been nothing but kind to her, and honestly, Elphaba could use a free ticket out, even if just for a while.

They arrived just as the game was starting. The bleachers were crowded, but Fiyero somehow sweet-talked an usher into letting them sit near the front row.

They hadn’t even settled when Elphaba spotted Remy on the field. She was in full uniform, stretching near the dugout. When she looked up and saw them, she grinned and gave a two-finger wave in their direction.

Elphaba lifted her hand in return. Fiyero, predictably, waved back with both arms and yelled, “Uhuuu, Remy! Go get ’em, tiger!”

Elphaba silently hoped the earth would open up and swallow her.

The game moved slowly but not unpleasantly. Elphaba didn’t follow all the rules, but she liked watching people who cared and Remy clearly did.

When she cracked a line drive down center field in the sixth, Fiyero stood up and shouted, “Let’s goooo!”

Remy waved at them as she jogged off the field.

When he sat back down, Fiyero elbowed Elphaba. “You see that? That was hot.”

Elphaba took a sip of a lemonade she had no idea where Fiyero got it from. “I’m aware.”

When the game ended, the field slowly cleared. Remy disappeared toward the locker area, and Fiyero started rambling about post-game food options.

But before they could get up, Remy reappeared, hair still damp from a quick rinse, uniform unbuttoned halfway over a tank top, gear bag slung over her shoulder.

“Hey, you made it,” she said, smiling wide. “Thanks for coming.”

“Remy!” Fiyero was already pulling her in for a warm hug. “You crushed it out there. Total beast.”

She laughed, hugging him back. “Appreciate the analysis.”

Then she turned to Elphaba. “Glad you came.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Elphaba said. And she meant it. “You were great,” she added, a little more quietly. “Like... scary competent.”

Remy laughed. “Thanks. I was trying to impress the girl who ghosted me after the bonfire.”

“I didn’t ghost you,” Elphaba said, caught off guard. “I’m just—”

“Relax, I'm kidding,” Remy said gently. “You’ve been nice. It’s been... nice. Getting to talk.”

Something about the way she said it made Elphaba glance down. She scuffed her shoe against the bleacher step. “Yeah, same.”

A beat of awkward silence followed.

“Awkwarrrrd,” Fiyero said loudly, stepping between them and taking a dramatic bite of a churro.

Where was he getting all this stuff from?

Elphaba elbowed him, and he whined in response. “Ouch! Okay, okay—so are we hanging out or what?”

Remy grinned. “I was gonna grab food. You guys in?”

“I’m in,” Elphaba said. “Though I don’t know about Fiyero, he had a feast during the game.”

“I’m always in for food,” he replied without hesitation.

Remy’s smile softened. “Cool. Give me five minutes. I’ll meet you by the lot.”

She did. Fiyero had pulled the car around to an easy-to-spot corner, and once Remy hopped in, she gave directions to a burger place just off the highway.

The place was the kind of roadside diner that looked like it hadn’t changed since 1983, flickering neon sign, metal tables, laminated menus you could wipe clean with a napkin.

They squeezed into a booth by the window. Remy didn’t bother looking at the menu when the waiter showed up. She just said, “Usual,” then turned to the other two.

“I’m trusting you,” Elphaba said, side-eyeing her.

Remy grinned. “Live dangerously.”

And honestly? The food was greasy, salty, and absurdly good.

At one point, while Fiyero was busy charming the girl at the next table, Remy nudged Elphaba lightly under the table with her foot.

“He like this at Shiz too?”

Elphaba smirked. “Worse, sometimes.”

Remy tilted her head, eyes briefly scanning Elphaba. “You two ever…?”

It took a second for Elphaba to register what she meant. Then: “What? No. God, no.”

Remy raised her hands in mock innocence. “Okay, okay. Just asking.”

Elphaba narrowed her eyes. “Wait. Did you?”

Remy shrugged with a sheepish little smirk that said guilty as charged.

Elphaba groaned and dropped her face in her hands. “God, I’ve kissed him by association.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Remy said, laughing. “He’s a good kisser.”

“Ugh.”

“You’re welcome.”

Elphaba shook her head but couldn’t help laughing too.

Then Remy’s tone shifted, just a little softer. “I’m really glad you came. Both of you.

“Yeah,” she said. “Me too. It’s… been a weird couple weeks. This was a good reset.”

“I meant what I said,” Remy leaned back, her knee brushing Elphaba’s again under the table. “I know a bunch of places around here. If you ever wanna disappear for another day.”

She’d already mentioned a little trip her friends  were planning for tomorrow, a hike, a lake, cheap beer and good company, and had casually extended the invite to both of them.

Elphaba smiled, but it faltered. “I’d love to. But tomorrow I’ve got this ridiculous gala thing.”

“A gala?” Remy raised an eyebrow. "What is this, a Disney movie? Do you show up in a pumpkin carriage or do rich people use Teslas now?”

“I wish I could leave by midnight,” Elphaba muttered. “But my father’s the host, which means I’m on display. Me and my sister, welcoming committee in overpriced shoes. Annual tradition.”

“Sounds like a blast.”

“Oh yeah. Stack a bunch of old politicians, family friends with yachts and god complexes in a ballroom and make them pretend they don’t hate each other. It’s an anthropological study, honestly. But the drama peaks early.”

Remy leaned forward, chin in hand, watching her. “Well, maybe you should bring someone who can help you escape from the dragon tower you live in.”

By someone, she meant herself.

But Elphaba didn’t catch it.

Because the second Remy said it, her brain, uninvited and automatic, summoned a flash of a tiny, infuriating blonde with a silver laugh and more opinions than height.

“Yeah,” Elphaba said, her voice quiet. “Maybe I should.”

Elphaba missed the way Remy’s eyes lost just a bit of their sparkle. But before anything else could be said—

“Ladies,” Fiyero turned back to them with a dramatic sigh, “this has been delightful, but even princes can’t linger forever. I’m needed back home,” and then, he pouted.

Remy stood as they did, slinging her gear bag over her shoulder. “Thanks again for coming.”

Fiyero pulled her into a quick hug. “Obviously."

Elphaba lingered by the booth, hands in her jacket pockets, when Remy turned to her, “good luck tomorrow.”

“Thanks. I’ll need it.”

“You’ll survive.”

There was a pause, just long enough to feel like something might have happened if either of them had been a little braver. But then Fiyero clapped his hands and said something about beating traffic, and it passed.

“See you around?” Elphaba asked.

“Count on it,” Remy said.

And that was it. They left the little diner behind, sliding into Fiyero’s car, engine rumbling back to life. The wind picked up as they pulled onto the road, and Elphaba let it hit her face.

**

Elphie <3:
what r u up to tomorrow

Galinda:
principles of governance in the free states of oz?

Elphie <3:
try again

Galinda:
pizza and scream queens with my dearest darlingest Elphie?

They’d been doing that a lot lately.

Elphie <3:
close enough
do u have any gowns in ur dorm room

Elphaba decided to call.

“Why would I need gowns to watch Scream Queens?” Galinda answered the phone that way, but there was a hint of a smile in her voice.

“I don’t know,” Elphaba said, “but I do know you need a gown if you’re going to the Emerald Gala with me tomorrow night.”

Galinda didn’t need to see Elphaba’s face to know she was giving one of those ‘Chicken Run’ smiles, the one she used when she really wanted something.

There was a pause on the line.

“The Emerald Gala? Really?” Galinda sounded genuinely surprised. “That’s tomorrow already?”

“Unfortunately,” Elphaba said. “Time flies, especially when you're dreading something.”

“I see…” Galinda pretended to think. “I don’t know... Of all the thrilling plans I had lined up, a gala wasn’t exactly at the top.”

“I’d never want to steal you away from the magic that is Chapter 5: Environmental Policy in the Emerald City,” Elphaba said, perfectly deadpan.

Galinda laughed. Then:  “Wait. You read the whole thing already?”

Elphaba didn’t answer.

Galinda answered for her. “Of course you did.”

“You’re missing the point.”

“Oh?” Galinda leaned back on her bed, smiling. “And what is the point?”

Elphaba sighed, more theatrical than annoyed. “Will you…”

“Yes?” Galinda prompted, fully enjoying this.

“…accompany me to the gala and make it at least moderately tolerable?”

Galinda hummed. “Oh, Elphie," she said with a smile in her voice. "What would you do without me?”

"So, that means you're coming?"

**

G:
SOS.
my dorm.

That’s how Milla ended up standing in Galinda’s doorway, staring in disbelief at the girl who looked absolutely fine.

“It is an emergency,” Galinda insisted. “A fashion emergency is not any less urgent than the regular kind.”

Milla blinked at her. “We both know that’s not true.”

“Aaaanyway,” Galinda said, sweeping dramatically aside, “you’re here now. Come in, come in.”

Milla dragged herself across the threshold. “What could possibly be so important that you couldn’t just send a photo? And what do you even need me for, you’re the fashion oracle around here.”

Galinda just twirled a finger and said, “I know. But this time it’s important.”

She began pacing, waving her arms. “Elphie invited me to the Emerald Gala. And everyone who’s anyone will be there. I cannot, cannot, show up looking anything less than scandalocious standing next to her. She’s going to look all sharp and tall and effortlessly composed, we know Elphie, and I’ll look like a very anxious cupcake unless I figure this out.”

She said it all in one breath, hands fluttering as if directing invisible chaos.

Milla just stood there for a second, silent. She wasn’t about to interrupt whatever that was.

From the moment the word 'Elphie' came out, Milla already knew this wasn’t really about fashion.

Galinda was trying to be seen. Specifically, by one tall, sharp, effortlessly composed person.

“Alright. ” Milla said finally, “ let’s see the options.”

It was honestly impressive how many dresses Galinda could pull from a dorm closet.

Not that many, actually, but compared to what Milla had, it might as well have been a full showroom.

Galinda emerged from behind the closet door in a floor-length gown dripping in sequins, one shoulder bare, the fabric catching the light like a disco ball. She struck a pose.

Milla raised an eyebrow.

“Too much?” Galinda deflated.

“It’s... definitely not shy.”

Three more dresses followed: too pink, too bridal, too stiff.

By the fourth, Galinda groaned and turned back to the closet. “Why is this so hard? I’m good at this.”

“What about that one?” Milla nodded to a gown half-hidden under a cape. “Is that even a dress?”

“I think so,” Galinda said, tugging it free with a frown.

When she stepped back into the room wearing it, Milla didn’t say anything right away, just looked.

The dress was a rich emerald satin, floor-length and sleek, hugging Galinda’s frame with subtle tailoring. It had a cutout at the waist just below the bust, creating a gentle hourglass shape without being revealing. The skirt flowed smoothly with a slight flare at the bottom and ended in a soft train.

It wasn’t flashy, it wasn’t loud, but it looked like it belonged to her.

Galinda ran her hands down the sides, unusually quiet.

“Well?” she asked, this time, almost shy.

Milla smiled. “There she is.”

Galinda didn’t answer. She just turned toward the mirror, looking at herself a little too closely.

After a moment, she sighed softly. “I don’t think green’s even my color.”

Stepping closer, Milla's eyes were warm and steady. “Of course it is.”

Galinda glanced at her, searching for a hint of teasing or doubt, but found none.

Milla smiled again, quieter this time. “It’s yours, through and through.”

The blonde turned back to the mirror, a small, almost shy smile tugging at her lips and fingers lingering on the fabric. “Thanks, Milla. For… this.”

“What are friends for?” Milla shrugged, grinning.

**

Elphaba was pacing over the lines drawn on the marble floor, the kind meant to guide foot traffic into the ballroom. It had been ten minutes since Galinda texted saying she’d be there in five, and asked her to come meet her by the entrance.

“Elphie!” came the voice behind her.

“Finally,” Elphaba said, turning. “I was starting to think you—”

Then she stopped.

“...Wow.”

It wasn’t dramatic, just honest. Barely above a whisper, even. Her eyes moved from Galinda’s earrings down to the shape of the dress, then back to her face like she was trying to catch up.

Galinda blinked at her. “What?”

But she knew what.

“You—look...” Elphaba dragged a hand over the back of her neck. “Very... coordinated.”

That earned a laugh — flustered and delighted — and Galinda stepped forward, letting herself be seen up close.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” she said, and meant it. The sleek black of Elphaba’s dress fit her like it had been made for her. Her hair was down. She had makeup on. Not a lot, but enough to make Galinda’s heart stutter.

There was a beat of quiet between them.

Then Galinda cleared her throat and smiled, bright and practiced. “Well? Shall we dazzle the Emerald elite?”

Elphaba offered her arm. “God help them.”

The ballroom doors were already open, and soft music floated out — strings and piano, something vaguely classical but with enough rhythm to keep things moving.

The room itself looked like it had been dipped in gold. High ceilings, green and silver accents, long tables lined with crystal glasses. Servers in dark uniforms carried trays of tiny hors d'oeuvres that probably cost more than Elphaba’s entire wardrobe.

Galinda had been to galas before, but they never lost their shimmer. She knew better than to look like a little girl in a fairy tale, but secretly, she always felt like it.

She loved the dressing up, the fact that everyone came looking like elevated versions of themselves.

She loved the drama: the way politeness stretched thin over too much champagne. Compliments flowed freely, laughter came easier, but one too many glasses and the masks started to slip. She’d lost count of how many shoves, tears, and dramatic exits she’d seen at these things.

And of course, she loved the attention. Galinda was a natural charmer, a born performer, getting to choose who to be and still draw all the eyes felt like magic.

But she also knew Elphaba hated all of this. The noise, the fuss, the performance of it. She’d trade this whole ballroom for a quiet night and a good book without blinking.

And being the Governor’s daughter only made it worse. Everyone wanted something, a glimpse, a connection, a reason to whisper. Elphaba was always polite, always prepared. She knew names, offered the right comments, drew boundaries with firm grace. Some called it cold. Galinda knew it was effort.

This was why Nessa used to help, splitting the attention, letting Elphaba breathe. Nessa liked being looked at. She was good at it. But tonight, it was Galinda standing beside her.

And what Elphaba didn’t quite realize yet was that Galinda wasn’t just going to make it bearable, she was going to make it fun.

They moved through the ballroom together, trading greetings and making introductions. Elphaba stood taller when Galinda smiled at her.

Whenever someone tried to trap them in a long, boring conversation, Galinda had a sharp little comment ready, whispered just loud enough for Elphaba to hear, making her choke back a laugh.

“Oh—my God, Elphie, look,” Galinda murmured suddenly, tilting her head toward the far end of the room, a spark of mischief already behind her eyes.

Elphaba glanced discreetly, only to spot Malkin Willer, the Emerald Vanguard Chancellor, wearing the most unfortunate hat she'd ever seen.

“And beside him—” Galinda gasped, “wait... is that—?”

“Sylvia Plinth,” Elphaba said quietly.

“His secretary?” Galinda asked, performing surprise just a little too well.

“Former secretary. Officially his fourth wife.”

Galinda’s jaw dropped, slightly delayed. “Honestly, I thought Maryn would last longer than that.”

“Word is, he didn’t even wait for her to come back home. She was halfway across the world when he moved Sylvia in... and sent the papers.”

Galinda let out a scandalized breath. “Elphie. We have to go over there.”

“No, we don’t,” Elphaba said, already laughing.

“Yes, yes we do. For me,” she pouted. “Pfannee is going to die.”

“Pfannee?”

“His mom does yoga with Maryn,” Galinda added vaguely, like the two of them hadn’t spent a week at Maryn’s lake house last summer.

Elphaba narrowed her eyes. “...Are you making this up?”

“Please, Elphie.” The pout turned to a grin. “You’ll thank me later.”

Against her better judgment, Elphaba followed. As they approached, Malkin turned and immediately lit up.

“Miss Thropp,” he said, too loudly. “Would you look at how you’ve grown!”

Elphaba suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. He’d seen her last month.

“Chancellor,” she said coolly. “Always a pleasure.”

“Oh, cut the formalities, you can call me Malkin. Any daughter of my good friend Frexspar is practically family.”

Before she could respond, he noticed Galinda. His expression shifted into something more familiar.

“Galinda? I can’t believe my eyes.”

Elphaba blinked.

Galinda smiled sweetly, not missing a beat. “Uncle Malkin,” she sang. “Love. The hat.” Then she turned slightly and winked at Elphaba, who stared at her, now catching on.

Elphaba mouthed uncle?

Galinda didn’t explain, she just kept smiling, radiant and pleased with herself.

Elphaba said nothing. Mostly because if she opened her mouth, she might start laughing and never stop.

“Thanks, dear,” Malkin said, puffing up. “How’s Highmuster been? Last I heard, he was sailing somewhere near Noland with that model—” he squinted upward, trying to remember. “What's her name again?.”

Well. That was new.

“Sounds like you’ve heard from him more recently than I have,” Galinda said with a light laugh that nearly reached her eyes.

Nearly.

Malkin didn’t catch the slight shift in her tone, but Elphaba did. Still, no one mentioned it. Instead, he laughed and leaned in with a sly grin.

They lingered a moment longer.

Galinda was truly gifted at sounding innocent, the amount of information she managed to pull out of them was impressive.

When they finally peeled away from the Willers and put some distance between themselves and the couple, Galinda turned to Elphaba with the most mischievous smile imaginable.

Elphaba couldn’t hold back any longer, she burst into honest, sincere laughter. “You are unbelievable.”

“Oh, I know. It’s a gift,” Galinda said, tossing her hair.

(She didn’t realize her eyes held the most loving gaze, quietly fixed on Elphaba as she giggled.)

As they moved through the crowd, Elphaba’s gaze landed on Nessarose across the saloon.

“Oh, come on,” Elphaba said, her hand resting lightly on the small of Galinda’s back. “There’s someone dying to see you.”

“Nessa!” Elphaba called out.

Their eyes met, and suddenly Nessarose sparkled with a brightness that lit the room.

“Galinda! Oh my God, it’s so good to see you,” Nessarose exclaimed, pulling her into a hug.

“You look stunning, both of you,” she added with a smile.

“Oh, look who’s talking,” Galinda shot back, returning the compliment. “How are you? How’s boarding school? Tell me everything.”

Galinda and Nessarose had only met a handful of times, the few occasions Nessarose came home since leaving for boarding school, but they had bonded instantly.

When Elphaba started college, she knew she wouldn’t be around as much as she wanted. With her gone so often, Nessarose would be alone most of the time.

The decision to send Nessarose to boarding school had been theirs, made together, and convincing their father had taken work.

It was hard to be apart, but they knew it was the best way for Nessarose to get the care and company she needed at her age.

“Ah, you know,” Nessa said with a suggestive grin, “as fun as boarding school can be…”

“All right, that’s my cue,” Elphaba said, already stepping back. Any chance to be spared the intimate details of her sister’s life was a chance she’d take. “I’ll leave you girls to it. Find me when the conversation won’t make my ears bleed.”

And with that, she slipped away.

Elphaba had barely made it halfway across the room when she heard her name again.

“Elphaba.”

She turned, already bracing herself. Frexspar Thropp stood there in full governor regalia, dark green trimmed in gold, lapel pin shining under the chandelier light. His expression was neutral, which for him, might as well have been stern.

“I was hoping to introduce you to a few people,” he said, already steering her away from the flow of guests with a light but firm touch on her shoulder. “There are some valuable connections here tonight, and I’d like you to make the most of them.”

“Actually, I was heading outside for some air,” she said flatly.

“You can step out afterward,” he replied, all polite menace. “Right now, I suggest you focus on why you’re here. You've wasted enough time already.”

Elphaba frowned. “I’ve done nothing but talk to people all night.”

“Come. Councilman Vester is here with his son. Law student. Bright future. I want you two to speak.”

“I was just with the Chancellor and his wife,” she pushed back, trying to keep her voice steady. “Councilman Vester can wait five minutes.”

“Malkin Willer and Sylvia Plinth?” Frexspar’s smile thinned. "The gossip darlings? You think that gets you anything real? This isn’t high school, Elphaba.”

“I know he has his issues, but he’s the Chancellor of the Emerald Vanguard. And he’s friends with the Uplands—”

“Of course he is,” Frexspar scoffed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I know you don’t care for these events, but you used to take them seriously.”

“What makes you think I’m not?” Elphaba’s voice sharpened, her composure cracking. “You have no idea the amount of effort it takes for me to even be here.”

Frex’s smile grew thinner. "I’ve seen you clinging to that girl’s side all evening. Laughing and whispering. You think people haven’t noticed?”

“That girl has a name. It's Galinda.” She snapped, louder than she meant to and a few people turned.

Frexspar’s face didn’t move. “Lower your voice,” he said with a smile made for the papers.

“Galinda is a distraction,” he continued. "That’s all she is. And you’re letting her take you with her.”

“You don’t know anything about her.”

“I know enough.” He paused. “Maybe some time outside will do you good after all. I’ll tell Councilman Vester you stepped out to say goodbye to your... friend.”

Elphaba just stared at him, her jaw was clenched so tightly it hurt.

Then he went on, too calmly. “When you remember why you’re here, you’ll come back. Alone.”

And with that, he turned around and walked away.

**

Elphaba was pacing tight, restless loops near the balustrade, fists clenched.

“Unbelievable,” she muttered to herself. “This is what I get for trying to be a good daughter.”

She stopped, rubbed her forehead, then started again.

“A distraction? He didn’t even have the decency to speak to her and now—”

“Hey.”

Galinda’s voice was soft, careful.

Elphaba spun. Galinda stood a few steps away, heels clicking gently as she crossed to her. “Are you okay?”

“Just out for air,” Elphaba said too quickly. “How much did you see?”

“Pretty much the whole thing.” Galinda’s voice stayed low. “If Nessa hadn’t pointed it out, I might’ve missed it. You’re a pro at polite fighting.”

She offered a smile. Elphaba tried to return it, but only air came out.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know.” Elphaba hesitated, torn between bottling it up and letting it out. “It’s just—he’s impossible.”

Galinda didn’t press.

“I’ve done everything right,” Elphaba started, the words gaining speed. “I showed up early, wore the outfit he picked, smiled for the photos, shook hands with every insufferable man he nodded toward—”

Her voice rose slightly.

“I’ve played the part all night, and it doesn’t matter. He barely says a word to me, but he watches every step I take, just waiting for me to screw up. And the second I’m actually enjoying myself—”

She broke off, angry at herself for the sting behind her eyes.

“I mean, I tried. I’ve been more than civil. Charismatic, even. All because you’re here, and I wanted it to go well. But apparently, me smiling too much is now some kind of problem, because he thinks you're a distraction? That can’t be real. That has to be a joke.”

Galinda was quiet for a second too long.

“He said I was a distraction?”

Elphaba closed her eyes. Shit.

“I’m sorry,” she said immediately. “That wasn’t supposed to come out—I didn’t mean to put that on you.”

“Elphie…”

“I don’t believe him, Galinda. I don’t believe a word of it.” She stepped closer, but Galinda interrupted gently.

“What exactly did he say?”

“It doesn’t matter—”

“Elphie. Please.”

Elphaba sighed. “He was watching us, apparently. Said we were laughing too much, talking too long to the Willers, who he somehow thinks don’t matter.”

Then quieter, almost ashamed: “And he said you were distracting me from what we came here to do.”

Galinda didn’t look up.

“I should go, then.”

“What?”

“I should go,” she repeated, eyes on the floor. “He clearly doesn’t want me here.”

“Galinda—”

“I don’t want to make things worse for you.”

“Can you stop?” Elphaba said, stepping forward. “Please don’t do this.”

“I didn’t mean to—”

“Galinda, stop!” Elphaba’s voice cut through, sharp but steady. “Look at me.”

Galinda didn’t, so Elphaba gently lifted her chin until their eyes met.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. You’ve been good to me, more than anyone here. You’ve made this night bearable, which I didn’t think was possible. Don’t apologize for that.”

Galinda's eyes dropped, and for a second, she just stood there.

“I’d get it if you don’t want to stay,” Elphaba said, softer now. “But I want you to. I really do.”

Looking up again, Galinda searched Elphaba’s face, hesitant.

“Elphie…” she said slowly. “If this is going to make things harder for you, really harder, I don’t want to be the reason.”

“You’re not,” Elphaba said instantly. “Gods, Galinda, you’re the only thing keeping me sane tonight.”

Galinda bit her lip. “You’re sure?”

“I’m positive.” Elphaba stepped closer again. “I’d lose my mind in there without you. I meant what I said, I want you here.”

Galinda’s posture shifted just slightly, shoulders loosening, chin lifting.

“Okay,” she said again, quieter this time, but firmer. “Then I’m not going anywhere.”

A small silence settled between them, this time softer. Elphaba let out a breath and gave a crooked, exhausted smile.

“So,” she said, “you still up for ruining a few polished reputations?”

“What?”

“I was thinking we actually try to enjoy this thing. Against all odds.”

Galinda tilted her head, brow raised. “Are you actually suggesting we go back in there?”

Elphaba nodded slowly. “And start with drinks.”

That pulled a reluctant smile from Galinda. “You’re buying.”

Elphaba huffed. “I don’t think this bar works like that.”

“Why, Miss Elphaba, this must be our lucky night,” Galinda said, her voice light again, almost teasing.

And just like that, the weight between them shifted. Galinda reached for her hand without thinking, and Elphaba didn’t let go.

“Lead the way,” Galinda said, giving her hand the smallest tug.

They reentered the ballroom side by side, fingers still loosely linked until the crowd swallowed them.

The bar was tucked along the far wall, mirrored shelves lined with crystal and bottles that sparkled under warm light. A few other guests lingered there, but not many.

Elphaba leaned over the counter. “Hi there,” she said, voice warm. “Two drinks. Strong ones.”

The bartender gave a low laugh. “Coming right up.”

Their drinks arrived, pale gold and garnished with something unnecessary, and Elphaba raised hers with a look. “To distractions,” she said, voice dry.

Galinda tapped her glass gently against Elphaba’s. “May we always be each other’s.”

They drank.

It burned, but in a good way. Elphaba felt it coil warm through her chest, felt her shoulders loosen. Galinda turned slightly, her hip brushing Elphaba’s side as she scanned the room.

“So,” she said, tone light again. “Who are we impressing next?”

Elphaba studied her for a moment, then smiled.

"I actually have someone in mind."

They made their way across the ballroom, Galinda slipping her hand free just before they reached the small group: Frex, the councilman, and what must have been the son.

Frex noticed first. His mouth tightened when he saw Galinda, but Elphaba didn’t flinch.

“Councilman Vester,” she said. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Miss Thropp.” The man extended his hand, voice heavy and practiced. “I’ve heard good things. This is my son, Lyle.”

The boy offered a polite smile, clearly rehearsed. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Elphaba returned it with ease, then, without breaking stride, added, “And this is Galinda Upland. She’s a close colleague at Shiz.”

Galinda lit up just enough, offering her hand with a disarming smile. “It’s an honor, Councilman. I’ve heard your name come up in more than one class.”

He chuckled, pleased. “I hope in a positive context.”

“The very best,” she said sweetly.

Frex stayed silent beside them, watching. Elphaba felt the weight of it, but didn’t acknowledge him.

“Lyle,” she said, turning. “My father tells me you’re studying law.”

And just like that, she began a conversation with the boy. He turned out to be thoughtful and decent, and from what she could read of the room, not in such a different situation than her.

Meanwhile, Galinda kept the councilman engaged without forcing it. When he asked about her studies, she spoke confidently, articulate but casual, and genuinely interested.

She wasn’t trying to impress Frexspar, or flatter Vester. She was just... good. Present. And by the end of it, they were exchanging contact information so the councilman could visit one of her Public Speech classes.

Frex said nothing. There was nothing to say.

Eventually, Elphaba’s conversation with Lyle wound down, and attention drifted naturally back to Galinda and Vester, who were also wrapping up.

Galinda turned slightly toward Elphaba, her voice light. “We promised ourselves one drink, didn’t we?”

“We did,” Elphaba replied, steady.

Councilman Vester smiled. “Well. You’re welcome to come back anytime, Miss Upland. Both of you.”

“Thank you, Councilman,” Galinda said, already reaching for Elphaba’s hand again.

They headed fo the bar, but not before Elphaba exchanging one last look with her father. Not in defyance, but in closure. Galinda would stay.

They returned to the bar, this time with less caution.

Galinda didn’t wait. She leaned against the counter, all charm. “We’re back. Stronger this time?”

The bartender gave them a knowing look. “Double it is.”

Elphaba side-eyed her. “Are we doing this?”

Galinda grinned. “We’re doing this.”

The next rounds came darker, stronger, messier-looking. They hung around the bar and the drinks kept coming. They made friends with the bartender, turns out her name was Joan and she was Irish. Whatever that meant, Elphaba thought.

Elphaba was drunk. And Galinda wasn’t far behind.

She was just so happy to be doing this with Elphie, because Elphie almost never drank.

And that was the thing, Galinda thought. They were having so much fun, but she knew this wasn’t normal behavior for Elphie.

Still, she let it go. Just for tonight.

They’d been through enough already, and she decided she’d be the one to hold back a little, she’d be the responsible one for once. She wanted to do that for Elphie.

“Joan, this has been a real pleasure, but I think it’s time for our ways to part,” Galinda said, amused. “Will you please give us the final round, but make it water?”

“You got it, little friend,” Joan said, sliding two big glasses across the bar.

“Come on, Elphie. Drink up,” Galinda said, nudging the glass toward her. Then, sing-song: “The dance floor awaits.”

“Noooo. Who ordered water? I’m allergic to it,” Elphaba groaned theatrically, but she drank it anyway. Then, after a beat: “Wait—the what awaits who now?”

“We, my dear Elphie,” Galinda said dramatically, “are going to dance.”

“I don’t dance.”

Galinda set her glass down and turned toward her fully. “That’s fine. You can follow my lead.”

“Oh, she leads now,” Elphaba mock-complained.

Galinda just extended her hand, shameless. “Come on, Elphie. You promised.” (She hadn’t.)

“I promised no such thing,” Elphaba grumbled.

And maybe it was the drinks.

Or maybe it was the way her name sounded in Galinda’s mouth.

But she didn’t resist for long. She slid her hand into Galinda’s, muttered something unintelligible, and let herself be pulled.

When they hit the dance floor, it wasn’t packed. A few couples swayed and spun around them.

And as if the universe had a sense of humor, the song shifted to something slow.

“Lucky night, Elphie. This helps your case,” Galinda teased as she finished dragging her to the center, never letting go of her hand.

Elphaba made the mistake of looking around. She tensed. “Galinda, people are staring.”

But Galinda just smiled and stepped closer. “Let them stare,” she said, reaching for Elphaba’s other hand. “You’re the Thropp heir. They’d stare anyway.”

Before Elphaba could protest again, Galinda gently guided her hands to her waist.

“You can hold me like this,” Galinda said, her hands hovering briefly over Elphaba’s to demonstrate. “And I…” She looped her arms around Elphaba’s neck, “...do this.”

And just like that, they were locked in.

Galinda stood so close her scent was all Elphaba could breathe, vanilla and champagne, soft and dizzying. She was warm. She was everywhere.

And somehow, Elphaba’s hands had found the small of Galinda’s back, holding her there instead of pulling away.

They started swaying to Galinda’s rhythm.

It wasn’t that hard, Elphaba told herself. Just move left and right. Left and right. That’s it. Keep it going. Don’t screw this up.

She didn’t know why exactly, but she really didn’t want to screw it up.

And even though her brain swore it could handle thinking and moving at the same time, her body had other plans. She was stiff as a stick, kept glancing down to check her feet, totally unaware she was doing it until Galinda let out a soft little laugh.

“What?” Elphaba snapped, though she wasn’t actually mad.

"You're cute," Galinda said, wearing the brightest smile in the whole wide world. That girl was impossible.

“Cute? None of this is cute.” There was irritation in her voice, but it wasn’t really for Galinda.

It was for her own face, which felt way too hot, and for Galinda, actually, because she kept looking at her like that.

“Relax, Elphie. You’re so tense,” Galinda said. “Or else I’m going to start thinking this is your first time dancing with a girl.”

She meant it as a joke, but when the answer didn’t come, her mouth fell open in realization.

“Stop it.”

“This is your first time dancing with a girl? Elphie!” Galinda was so delighted Elphaba could’ve strangled her.

But then again, she was smiling, and, stars above, Elphaba loved that smile.

“Stop it, Galinda, I mean it.”

She tried to sound serious, but the smile she was trying to bite back had already decided it wasn’t going to be bitten.

“I’ve danced before, okay? It just… wasn’t like this.”

“Oh, please do tell,” Galinda said, still grinning like the insufferable menace she was. “How was it, then?”

Elphaba sighed, already defeated.

There was no way out of this.

She was already trapped in Galinda’s arms, for better or worse, might as well get it over with.

“Nessa used to ask me to dance with her when we were kids,” she said flatly. “She wanted to be ready for when she met her prince.”

Galinda raised both eyebrows. “And you did it?”

Elphaba shrugged. “We went to a lot of galas growing up. And you know how adults love pet names, they always called her princess. I think it started to mess with her head.” She gave a small, involuntary laugh.

“So I’m not the first girl you’ve danced with,” Galinda said. “I’d be offended, but that’s actually really sweet. You’re safe for now, Miss Elphaba.”

Elphaba’s cheeks flushed again, and her body, that had finally relaxed during the conversation, tensed all over again.

Galinda felt it and gently tugged her back in.

“And how was it?” Galinda asked. “You two dancing?”

Elphaba gave a small smile, her eyes going distant for a second.

“We mostly danced at home. Nessa wanted to be prepared, she was convinced that if her prince ever saw her dance poorly, it’d ruin everything. So… we practiced a lot. In the living room. At first I hated it. But then…”

She trailed off, still smiling faintly.

“…We started to have fun with it.”

“So, only at home, then?” Galinda asked, genuinely curious.

“No, we eventually danced at galas too. It stopped being about the prince thing and turned into our own thing, I guess. We were kids, no one really paid attention. Certainly no prince.”

“Then why haven’t I seen a Thropp sisters’ dance tonight?” Galinda asked, still smiling.

“Oh, we don’t do that anymore.” Elphaba’s smile faltered.

Galinda noticed. “Why?”

“My father eventually decided we were too old for that kind of 'childish nonsense',” Elphaba said. “So we went on strike. If we were grown-ups, he’d have to treat us like it. We stopped going to all the events he dragged us to.” She let out a quiet laugh. “Didn’t see him for a month after that. Then it was fine again.”

She thought it was kind of funny.

But Galinda didn’t laugh. She just looked at her with those big, stupid, beautiful and too full of feeling eyes.

Too much, Elphaba thought. She looked away.

And like the universe was punishing her for speaking too freely, her eyes landed right on Frexspar. He was watching them with an unreadable expression.

Everything Galinda had done to loosen her up unraveled in an instant. Elphaba’s grip around her waist tightened before she even realized it.

Galinda noticed again. “Elphie?”

“Hm?” Elphaba replied, but she was already halfway gone, pulled under by the memory of their last argument. By the heat of too many eyes. By the judgment she could feel thickening in the air around them.

“Are you okay?” Galinda asked.

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

That was a lie.

Galinda didn’t call her on it. She just said again, gently, “Elphie.”

Then she tightened her arms a little around Elphaba’s neck, a quiet nudge for her attention.

“Close your eyes,” Galinda said softly.

“What?” That snapped Elphaba partway out of her spiral.

Galinda only repeated, calm and patient: “Close your eyes. Come on.”

Elphaba didn’t want to. But then again, she could never say no to her. So she did.

“I want you to take a deep breath in. ”Elphaba inhaled and Galinda did it with her.

“Now,” Galinda continued, “I want you to imagine it’s just you and me. We’re kids. Dancing in your living room, just like you did with Nessa.”

Something twisted in Elphaba’s stomach.

Maybe it was the intensity of the memory.

Maybe it was Galinda’s voice so close to her ear, her breath warm against her neck.

Maybe both.

“Think you can do that for me?” Galinda asked.

Elphaba just nodded, her body finally starting to relax as the air came in and out of her lungs.

“That’s it,” Galinda murmured.

Elphaba opened her eyes and met Galinda’s gaze full-on.

“See? This isn’t so bad,” Galinda said softly, resting her head against Elphaba’s shoulder.

Elphaba didn’t answer.

But it was true.

It wasn’t bad at all.

Eventually, that song ended. But they didn't move.

They stayed like that, Galinda swaying in Elphaba's arms in their own rythm.

Eventually, the dance floor began to empty, there were still a couple or two around them when Elphaba felt her eyes feeling heavy. It had been an exhaustive day.

That, and she was still drunk, and the alcohol inside her body wasnt helping at all to keep her eyes open.

So after a while, she finally broke their so comfortable silence and said "I think I want to go home," her head was tilted, resting on top of Galinda's, who pulled back breaking that contact to see her face.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just tired." she meet Galindas gaze so she knew she was being truthfull, knowing Galinda would search her face for it.

"Okay, I'll get our things then." and before Elphaba could say anything else, Galinda left.

Elphaba wanted to leave the party in a way that felt dramatic and cinematic, maybe even elope right out of there under the stars. But deep down, she knew she had to warn someone first.

Not her father. She had barely enough energy left for that, and she’d already decided to save it all for getting back home. No pointless interactions tonight.

So, Nessa it was.

Her eyes scanned the room until they landed on Nessa, standing in the middle of a small group. Not huge, but enough people Elphaba wanted to avoid, especially in her current state.

A plan formed.

She shuffled carefully toward the edge of the group’s line of sight, doing her best to look coordinated despite the wine loosening her limbs.

When she thought Nessa was looking, Elphaba gave a small wave—just enough to catch her attention without being obvious.

No response.

She tried again, waving more enthusiastically, wobbling a bit in the process.

Still nothing.

Third time’s the charm. This time, her wave was practically a semaphore signal, loud and unmissable.

Nessa finally turned, eyes narrowing as she noticed Elphaba’s… enthusiasm. She excused herself from the group and made her way over.

“Finally!” Elphaba exhaled, relief flooding her.

Nessa gave her a sharp look. “If it was so important, why didn’t you just come over and talk to me already?”

Elphaba nodded toward the group behind her. “Too many people. I’m tired of people. I’m going home.”

“Oh my God, are you drunk?” Nessa’s face lit up with amused realization.

“No!” Elphaba snapped, as if insulted.

Nessa glanced around, then gave Elphaba a gentle shove on the shoulder.

Elphaba immediately wobbled, then straightened herself up like she was performing a very dramatic balancing act.

“Hey! Don’t be rude,” she complained.

Nessa just raised an eyebrow.

“Fine. Maybe I had one drink,” Elphaba muttered, eyes darting around suspiciously.

Nessa kept watching.

“Okay, fine! More than one. Is that what you want to hear?” Elphaba spun around with mock indignation.

Finally, Nessa cracked up laughing. “I can’t believe I’m seeing this day,” she said, shaking her head.

“You can’t be mad at me, I’ve had a really long day, okay? Your dad made sure of it.” They talked like that sometimes.

“I’m not mad, I’m loving this. But what happened? Did Father do something?” Now she looked genuinely concerned.

“I’ll tell you later, okay? Right now I just want to melt into my six-million-dollar bed,” Elphaba deadpanned. “I just have to find Galinda.”

Nessa bit back a smirk. “Galinda is leaving with you?”

Elphaba didn’t catch the quiet intention behind the question. “Yeah, she went to grab our things.”

“Go find her, then,” Nessa said promptly. “I’ll have the driver pull the car around for you.”

“You’re a lifesaver.” Elphaba pulled Nessa into a quick hug, making her laugh.

Elphaba was already walking away when her sister called out, “Fabala!”

Elphaba turned around. “What?”

“What do I tell the driver? One stop or two?” Her tone was casual. “Just so he knows how long it’ll take to come back, you know?”

Elphaba didn’t even think about it. “One.”

Nessa bit back a victorious smile. “Okay,” she said simply.

The car ride was as easy as anything between them ever was.

Elphaba sat smushed against her door, comfortably half-asleep, and Galinda had claimed the middle seat, her head resting on Elphaba’s shoulder.

At some point during the ride, Elphaba’s hand had ended up in Galinda’s again, aparently a new habits that neither of them commented on.

Galinda didn’t recognize the turns being made, but she didn’t question it either. Her brain was warm and floaty, and she was with Elphie. That was all she needed to know.

Minutes later, the car rolled through tall gates and parked quietly in front of the Thropp's grand house.

“Give me your keys, I’ll help—”

“I don’t have a key,” Elphaba said, stumbling slightly as she stepped out.

Galinda caught up to her. “Wait. Did you lose it, or… you just don’t have a key to your own house?”

“We don’t have keys,” Elphaba replied, deadpan.

Galinda stared. “You what.”

“The door’s always open. Feel free to trespass any time you want.”

That stopped Galinda in her tracks. She narrowed her eyes, how rich do you have to be to not lock your door?

“Just try not to be seen by any of the security,” Elphaba added, already wandering off toward the entrance. “Or the maids. Or the gardeners. Or the—”

“Okay! Got it,” Galinda cut in with a laugh. “Study the house staff before breaking in. Understood.”

She’d been to the Thropp house before, a few times, in daylight, for brief pit stops before heading out again. Even so, it had left an impression.

The place felt more like a company headquarters than a home.

Elphaba hadn’t exaggerated, running into staff was easy. Running into an actual resident? Much rarer. And at night, the whole place felt strangely empty.

She followed Elphaba through a maze of hallways until they finally reached her room.

“Finally,” Elphaba exhaled, throwing herself face-first onto the bed. “I wanna sleep forever. Just like this.” Her voice came muffled from somewhere inside a mountain of pillows.

“Elphie, no.” Galinda was laughing as she crossed the room. “You can’t sleep like that. We have to get you out of these clothes and into something comfy.”

She gave Elphaba’s arm a tug. It was absolutely no use.

“I'm comfy,” came the muffled reply.

Alright. Time for the big guns.

“Elphaba Thropp.”

Elphaba twisted just enough to lift her face and glare. “Don’t Elphaba-Thropp me,” she warned. Then pouted.

Galinda wanted to roll her eyes. She couldn’t.

“Okay, Elphie,” she said gently. “But I need you to help me. Just point me in the right direction and I’ll do the rest. Deal?”

Elphaba lifted a thumb without looking.

“Great. Where do I find your clothes?”

Elphaba vaguely pointed toward a door Galinda hadn’t even noticed before.

It opened into a closet. A massive one. Rows of neatly hung clothes, many still tagged. Galinda paused for a moment, taking it all in.

The possibilities were endless. But she had a mission.

“Alright,” she said as she returned, “we’re gonna get you dressed. Well, undressed and then dressed again,” she added under her breath.

To her surprise, Elphaba was more helpful than expected, sleepy and uncoordinated, but cooperative. Eventually, Galinda got her changed and tucked back into bed.

Galinda let her get comfortable while she tidied up their things. Once she finished, she paused by the side of the bed, unsure of what to do.

Elphaba was clearly gone. Sound asleep, relaxed in a way Galinda rarely saw.

Should she just lie down next to her?

She could sleep on the floor, but where would she even find extra blankets? Not in this massive house. And there had to be a guest room somewhere. Guest rooms, plural.

She looked at Elphaba one more time, completely at ease. Galinda didn’t want to disturb her, so she quietly moved toward the door.

Her hand was on the knob when she heard it.

“Where are you going?”

It was barely a whisper but still, Galinda jumped.

“It’s okay,” she said quickly, maybe to Elphie, maybe to herself. “I was just going to find the guest room.”

“Why?”

Galinda opened her mouth. Then closed it again.

She didn’t know how to answer that, not really.

But Elphaba didn’t wait for her to try.

“Stay.”

Galinda froze.

Then nodded, even though Elphaba couldn’t see her. “Okay.”

She let go of the knob, closed the door softly, and crossed the room.

Elphaba hadn’t moved much, just shifted to one side of the mattress, eyes still closed, arm loosely curled around a pillow now.

Galinda stood there for a moment, unsure where to place herself in it all. But then Elphaba mumbled, barely audible:

“It’s okay. You can.”

That helped.

So she climbed in carefully, turning off the lamp on her side. The room went dark, warm with stillness.

Neither of them said anything after that.
But a few minutes later, when Elphaba’s hand found hers under the blanket, Galinda didn’t flinch.

She just let it stay there.

And by the time sleep caught up to them both, their breathing had fallen into the same rhythm.

Chapter Text

Elphaba woke up and immediately regretted it.

Her mouth tasted like death, her head pounded behind one eye, and everything about her body felt slightly wrong.

Squinting against the light, she spotted a glass of water, two pills, and a folded piece of paper on the nightstand. It was Nessa’s handwriting.

hydrate or die-drade
—N

If she weren’t so wrecked, she’d have made a mental note to thank her later.

ps: share the water with galinda

…Galinda?

Oh. Right.

Elphaba turned her head and found her—Galinda, curled up beside her, sleeping like some angelic creature from a different, less painful world.

Her head throbbed too hard to chase memories. Survival first.

She turned back, grabbed the glass, downed one pill.

"Good. You’re alive,” came a scratchy voice behind her.

“Barely,” Elphaba muttered, washing down the second pill with a long sip.

She offered the other pill to Galinda without turning.

“I’m fine, actually,” Galinda said, voice still husky with sleep. “But I’ll take the water, please.”

Elphaba passed it over wordlessly.

Next thing she knew, Galinda was slipping out of bed and heading toward the bathroom. The room fell quiet. Elphaba stayed where she was, letting the water and medicine settle into her system. She no longer felt like dying. Progress.

She closed her eyes and started sorting through the haze of last night, but only fragments came.

She heard Galinda return and cracked one eye open, only to catch her climbing back into bed with all the ease in the world.

The sight pulled something odd and quiet in Elphaba’s chest. Something she refused to name.

“So,” Galinda said, settling beside her, “how are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by a truck,” Elphaba groaned, throwing her arm over her face. “Or ten. Did we really drink that much?”

“What, you don’t remember?” Galinda asked, half-laughing.

“I mean, I remember some things, but the math isn’t matching. Feels like I’m paying for a lot more than I ordered.”

“Well,” Galinda said, stretching with an obnoxiously well-rested sigh, “considering you never drink, I think the math checks out just fine.”

Elphaba groaned. Then after a second, “I think my memory’s glitching.”

“Is that so?” Galinda tilted her head, amused, but watching her now. Maybe a little too closely. Whether it was because Elphie might be feeling bad or because Elphie might’ve forgotten them, it’s not to mention.

“I don’t even remember changing clothes.”

“Oh, that’s because you didn’t. I did it for you.”

Pause.

“I had to, after you decided it was a good idea to take a dive into the fountain.”

Galinda watched, biting her lip as the scene unfolded. 

Elphaba froze, then slowly sat up, eyes wide. 

“I did that?”

Galinda had really hoped she could hold the act a little longer, but she cracked immediately, laughing, “You should’ve seen your face.”

Elphaba groaned and flopped back into the pillows, her arm over her face. “I hate that you’re enjoying this.”

“Oh, I’m thriving,” Galinda said, curling under the covers and pulling them up to her chest.

Another comfortable silence stretched between them before Galinda rolled to her side, resting her head on her hand. “You really don’t remember anything?”

Elphaba turned her head just enough to meet her eyes. “I think I do.” She tried rewinding again, but even thinking hurt. Gods, why had she drunk so much?

Her mind, ever helpful, answered by flooding her with the memory of last night’s argument with her father.

She barely had time to do anything with the memory before a knock came at the door.

"Miss Elphaba?"

Shit. Dulcibear.

Elphaba froze, then looked sharply at Galinda, holding a finger to her lips

“I heard your voice, little one,” Dulcibear called gently, but firm. “I know you’re in there.”

Elphaba dropped her head back against the mattress, eyes closed in defeat, then dragged herself out of bed like it physically hurt her (because it did).

She still had a trick or two left.

She stumbled into bathroom where she flushed the toilet, turned the sink on and off and knocked a few things over for effect.

Then, she shuffled to the door and cracked it open just enough to block the view of the room with her own body because there was no way in all the worlds she was letting Galinda be seen right now.

“Forgive me,” she said, voice still gravelly. “I was in the bathroom.”

Galinda, behind her, stared in awe. She hadn’t known Elphie was capable of performance like that.

“You called?”

“Yes,” Dulcibear said. “Your father requests you in his office.”

Of course. Because nothing was ever bad enough that it couldn’t get worse.

She stalled. Thought fast. “Tell him I’m sick.”

Wait—no. He saw me drinking, that would lead to way too many assumptions.

“Excuse me?” Dulcibear blinked.

“Tell him I’m indisposed,” she tried again, but that didn’t sound much better, and if he decided to come see for himself—

“I don’t—” Dulcibear began, already exasperated.

“Just tell him you knocked and didn’t get an answer,” Elphaba blurted, because that was going to be true in a minute anyway.

Dulcibear raised an eyebrow. “And why would I lie to your father? My employer?”

“Because you love me?” Elphaba said, forcing a sweet, hopeful smile that had no right to exist on her hungover face.

Dulcibear stared at her for a long second, then sighed, already tired. “You have thirty minutes.”

Elphaba shut the door as gently as she could and leaned her head against it, exhaling.

“You,” Galinda said from the bed, “are unbelievable.”

Elphaba cracked a tired smile but didn’t answer, there was no time for that.

“Grab your stuff, we’re leaving.”

And just like that, Elphaba was on the move. She crossed the room, opened her closet, and started pulling things into a backpack without any real system, books, socks, a charger, probably.

“Where to, exactly?” Galinda asked, still on the bed, half amused, half bewildered.

“Your dorm. Is that okay?”

Galinda was caught off guard. Elphaba kept pacing, grabbing whatever her hands landed on and tossing it into the bag.

“Yeah,” Galinda said slowly. “Yeah, we can go to my dorm. It’s no Thropp mansion, but my bed can be easily shared.”

“This is the Thropp mansion and we still shared a bed, so we’ll be fine, right?” Elphaba tried for a joke, but Galinda didn’t laugh.

She turned, caught the look on Galinda's face, and immediately pivoted. “Or I could go to Fiyero’s,” she said quickly, grabbing a hoodie now, folding and unfolding it. “He stayed here when he ran from his home, it’s only fair.”

What on Earth? When had that even happened? Galinda had so many questions.

But Elphie staying with Fiyero instead of her was absurd. “No. We’ll be fine,” she said, too fast. “My dorm it is.”

Finally, Elphaba paused and looked at her. “Alright then, you ready?”

“I didn’t bring anything with me. Just my dress. Do you have a bag I can use, or should I wear it and run full bridal style?”

“Leave it,” Elphaba said simply.

“And have your father hold my dress hostage?”

Elphaba didn’t even answer. “It’ll be fine. We have to go. Come on.”

And just like that, they were out the door, two maniacs on the run.

Galinda couldn’t stop questioning whether this was really necessary, but there was something undeniably thrilling about it, so she decided to roll with it.

They moved fast, bare feet against polished floors, ducking low out of instinct even though no one was watching. 

Down the corridor, past the stairwell, toward the back end of the house. A left turn into the old linen hallway, then the back stairs, the ones the staff used.

At the bottom was the kitchen, quiet now, the morning crew long gone. 

Elphaba moved through like she’d done it a hundred times (because she had), and pushed open the back door with her shoulder. Both of them stopped just long enough to jam their shoes on, then stepped out into the garden.

The cold hit like a slap. Galinda hissed, teeth chattering. “It’s freezing!”

“Good,” Elphaba said, stomping across the grass, “keeps the soul sharp.”

They reached the old gardener’s gate, slightly crooked on its hinge. Elphaba shook it until it gave way. “Go.”

Galinda slipped through first, stepping into the dirt path behind the estate. Elphaba followed, pulling the gate shut and wedging it back into place.

They stood for a second, catching their breath. Mud on their shoes, hair in their faces, air sharp with frost.

“Now what?” Galinda asked once they were finally, technically, free.

If they were in a movie, this wouldn’t have happened so perfectly. But just then, a car pulled up out of nowhere and stopped in front of them.

And as if following a script, Elphaba said only, “Get in.”

She didn’t explain, didn’t check, she just opened the passenger door and got in without hesitation.

Galinda stared at the car, then at Elphaba, then sighed and followed.

The second she shut the door, Elphaba leaned forward and said, “Drive!”

That was it. Too much chaos, too early in the day.

“Okay, Elphie, what is going on?” Galinda asked, voice cracking slightly as she finally turned to look at the driver.

And that was when Elphaba turned back in her seat and said, cheerful and completely unaware,

“Galinda, I think you remember Remy.”

And there she was, behind the wheel, casual and solid, sipping coffee with one hand on the gearshift, like she hadn’t just dropped into the middle of something Galinda couldn’t name.

Remy glanced back over her shoulder with a half-smile. “Hey.”

Galinda said nothing.

Elphaba, still catching her breath from the run, didn’t notice. “Thanks again for this,” she said, pulling her seatbelt on. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“You’re lucky I was dropping Fiyero when you texted him,” Remy said, eyes on the road as she eased the car back into motion.

“How was that?” Elphaba asked, distracted, digging her phone out of her pocket. “He actually joined you on that trip after all?”

“Yeah, last minute,” Remy said. “You know Fiyero. He only decided the night before. But his car broke down this morning so he called a tow truck, and I gave him a ride back.”

Elphaba said something in return, a joke probably, Galinda couldn’t even catch it—she was too busy dissociating, staring out the window like the scenery might offer her an explanation.

But then Remy’s voice pulled her back.

“And how was the gala thing?”

She knew about the gala?

Galinda’s heart twisted, but Elphaba beat her to it, already brushing it off.

“Let’s talk about good things, shall we?” she said, trying to sound light. Her voice was too thin to sell it.

“That bad, huh?”

Elphaba hummed something noncommittal. “Well, tell me about the trip.”

The subject flipped like it had never mattered.

Galinda didn’t speak. She just sank further into the backseat, arms crossed, heart slipping somewhere low in her chest.

She’d thought Elphie had fun.

With her.

Even with the fight with her father, despite everything.

But Elphaba’s words made it sound like it had all been nothing but a mess.

And that stung more than Galinda wanted to admit.

The drive went on. At some point, they arrived at Shiz.

Galinda hadn’t noticed when Elphaba told Remy where to go. Then again, she’d missed most of the conversation.

“Thanks again, Rem,” Elphaba said as they got out of the car.

And even though she felt a million miles away, Galinda still had her manners—or at least her performance skills.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.

Remy heard her. “Anytime.”

Yeah right, Galinda thought. Like that would ever happen again.

The walk to her dorm felt longer than usual. Elphaba was busy with her phone, probably texting Nessa, or so Galinda vaguely heard. The blonde stayed quiet, answering only when needed.

By the time they reached Galinda’s room, Elphaba exhaled and dropped her backpack by the door. “Gods, it feels like we’ve been running for days,” she said dramatically, flopping face-down onto the bed, just like she'd done yesterday. 

Galinda suddenly felt like the room was too small, the air too thin.

“I’m gonna go out,” she said, already reaching for her coat.

“What? Where?” That was probably the first time Elphaba really looked at her since their little getaway had started.

“I’m hungry, so…” Galinda shrugged.

“I’m kinda hungry too,” Elphaba said, starting to sit up. “Let me just call Nessa, she’s been texting nonstop—”

“You can stay,” Galinda said, too fast.

Then she softened, brushing it off with a smile that didn’t quite reach. “I’ll bring you something. Just stay, call Nessa, get comfortable. Take your time.”

“…Okay.” But by the time Elphaba answered, Galinda was already gone.

Her phone started ringing almost immediately. Nessa.

“Care to explain,” came her voice, dry and unimpressed, “why one minute you were knocked down with Galinda, and the next you disappeared into a black car without a word?”

“How do you—”

“My window faces the backyard. Or did you forget that too?” Nessa paused just long enough to make her point. “Start from the beginning.”

So Elphaba did. She told her everything, from the fight with their father to the morning that lead to the great escape, with the appearance from Remy.

Nessa listened quietly, but once Elphaba was done, all she said was, “Holy shit. And where’s Galinda now?”

Galinda? After all that, she was asking about Galinda?

“She went out to grab food. Why?”

“So she’s not there with you?”

“No?” Elphaba was genuinely confused. "Why?"

“Yeah. That tracks.”

“That’s all you’ve got to say?”

“What do you want me to say? You slept with her and then you call Remy to pick you up, of all people?”

Nessa could’ve set off a bomb with that one, if Elphaba wasn’t bright like a brick when it came to Galinda.

“I didn’t sleep with her. Why would you say it like that? She just crashed, like we’ve done a thousand times.”

Okay, not that many times. But Nessa didn’t need to know that.

“And Remy?” Nessa’s voice was too casual. Elphaba could practically hear the eyebrow raise.

“What about Remy? I texted Fiyero. His car broke down. We were lucky Remy was with him, that’s it.”

Elphaba’s tone was rising now. “Why are you being like this? I just told you about the whole scene with Father and this is what you’re focused on?”

On the other side of the line, Nessa was floored. Absolutely speechless for a few seconds.

How. Could. Someone. Be. This. Stupid.

How could Elphaba not see it? How could she miss the way Galinda was looking at her when they danced last night?

But fine. If Elphaba wasn’t going to connect the dots, Nessa would try another way.

She took a breath.

“Okay. You had a fight with Father. So you decided running away was better than dealing with him." She paused. "Why? What made this time different than all the other fights?”

She already knew. But she wanted to hear it.

“I don’t know.” Elphaba sighed. “I guess I didn’t want to deal with him. Not hungover." Then lower, "not with Galinda there.”

So maybe Elphaba did know. Just not all the way.

“I’m tired, Nessa. I’m about to start my midterms. The last thing I have is energy for another fight with him that changes nothing.” Another sigh. “Maybe it wasn’t the smartest move. But it’s done. I’m not going back.”

“So what, you’re gone forever?” Nessa asked, half-laughing.

“No. I’m just gonna lay low here for a while. At least until I get through my worst exam. Then I’ll go back and face whatever fury he’s still got stored up.”

“And when is that? Your worst exam?”

“Friday.”

That was what Nessa didn’t want to hear. Poor Galinda.

“Today is Sunday…” she offered.

“So?”

Uuuuugh.

“Do you plan on crashing in Galinda’s single dorm room until Friday?”

“Galinda doesn’t seem to think it’s a problem.”

Did she?

“I know, but even still…” Nessa hesitated, trying to find a phrasing that might actually land. “Just—try to circulate, won’t you? Maybe crash somewhere else for a night or two. Give each other’s faces a break.”

Elphaba frowned. “You’re being really weird about this.”

“I’m just saying,” Nessa replied, the way she always did when she didn’t want to say anything more.

And sure, Elphaba let it drop. But something about it stuck. 

**

Galinda was out for way longer than Elphaba had expected. But eventually, she came back.

She didn’t say much, just walked in, slightly windblown, and handed over a bag from Dilly’s.

“Vegetarian, right?” she asked, already turning toward her wardrobe before Elphaba could answer.

“Yeah,” Elphaba said, softer than she meant to.

She watched as Galinda tugged open drawers, pulled out clean clothes, and moved quietly around the room.

“Shower,” she said, glancing over. “I’ll be quick.”

But she wasn’t.

Elphaba had finished eating and Galinda was still in the shower.

She had no plans to sleep, at least not yet. 

But maybe it was the crash from all that adrenaline, or maybe just the relief of finally eating something. 

Maybe both.

Either way, her body relaxed before her mind could catch up. Her eyes grew heavy. She didn’t fight it long.

By the time Galinda finally stepped out of the bathroom, Elphaba was fast asleep.

And Galinda was secretly grateful for that.

She decided to crash in Milla’s dorm again. Milla had gone home for her mom’s birthday and wouldn’t be back until Monday.

She told herself that it was a comfort thing. Two beds, after all. No need for either of them to wake up with a crick in their neck, at least not today anyway.

That’s what she wrote on the note she left on her bedside. She made sure to write a 'just left' on it, so that when Elphaba woke up, it would feel like she’d only just missed her.

With quiet, practiced ease, Galinda gathered her clothes, tucked a bottle of water on Elphaba’s side table, placed a charger where she could see it, and slipped out the door.

It was 4 p.m.

This was the first time she’d touched her phone all day.

She scrolled through the mountain of messages waiting for her and ignored all of them.

Except one.

Nessa:
tks for taking care of her
take care of yourself 2
 
Galinda:
will do

When she got to Milla’s dorm, she dropped her bag, pulled the blanket 
halfway over herself, and curled up in bed.

Not wanting to think even a second longer, she fell asleep not long after.

**

On the other side of campus, Elphaba woke up hours later. The room was already getting dark, and it took her a second to remember where she was.

Galinda’s dorm.

Speaking of, she was nowhere to be found.

That’s when Elphaba spotted the note on the side table. She rubbed her eyes and leaned over to read it.

“Went to Milla’s for the night. Just left.

Figured we’d use two beds while it’s still available ;)

Left some stuff out for you.”

She went to Milla’s dorm?

Alright, fine. She’d fallen asleep and yeah—it did make sense to use Milla’s bed if it was open.

But still. Something about it didn’t sit right.

Why hadn’t Galinda woken her up? Elphaba would’ve been more than happy to crash at Milla’s and let Galinda keep her own bed. That’s what would’ve made sense.

She also hated that she’d slept through the entire day. Why had Galinda let her? Her note said she’d just left, so what—had she stayed holed up in the room all afternoon?

When exactly had she gone?

She picked up her phone and texted.

Elphie <3:
hey u up?
wanna grab food?

No response. A beat later:

Elphie <3:
found the charger u left
thanks

Maybe Galinda was asleep too. Or maybe she was still out.

Either way, Elphaba threw her phone face-down on the mattress.

She probably shouldn’t be texting right now. Everything felt weird. Off-kilter. And she didn’t have the language for any of it.

So she got up, grabbed her hoodie, and decided to go out and see people.

That would probably help.

She was halfway out the door when her phone buzzed.

Her hand instinctively went for her pocket, thumb already waking the screen before she’d even looked.

Galinda?

It wasn’t.

Nessa:
forgot to send you earlier

There was a photo attached.

Elphaba’s brows drew together as she opened it, half-expecting some old family snapshot. Maybe something from their dad’s house, some subtle guilt trip.

But it wasn’t that either.

It was from this morning. Probably taken when Nessa came in to drop off the water and pills.

They were in Elphaba's bed. Facing each other.

Galinda’s hand was in hers, fingers curled loose.

She just stared.

She didn’t remember that. But it didn’t hit like a surprise, exactly.

It didn’t feel wrong.

But like everything else on this damn day, it didn’t feel right either.

Not the photo itself, but the flicker behind her ribs. That definitely didn’t feel right.

She closed the image, stuffed her phone back in her pocket like it burned, and even though she didn’t feel like going out anymore, she stepped out into the hall and started to walk, not sure where to.

And as if her body was trying to communicate, her stomach let out a roar. Right. Food.

Shiz campus had a café. Smaller and sadder than Dilly’s, which was probably why it was never crowded.

But it was close. And open. And that was good enough.

She was pulling the door open when it swung toward her from the inside.

“Oh—hey!”

Avaric stepped out, holding a takeout cup and looking weirdly… well-behaved.

"Ace?" Elphaba was surprised like he was the one who wasn’t supposed to be on campus tonight.

"Elphie!" he lit up. He loved to call her that when Galinda wasn’t around to glare him into the ground.

"Don’t. Call me that." It never really sat right when he said it, but now? Especially now? Not happening.

He raised both hands, grin never quite faltering. “Geez, someone’s in a mood.”

Second time she’d heard that phrase this weekend. Still not fun.

Even so, she just exhaled, deep and tired.

Avaric tilted his head, taking her in. That was… odd. No eye roll? No sarcastic retort?

“I’m just kidding,” he said more gently. “You okay?”

“Long day, that’s all.”

He nodded, though his brain was already spinning. 

"Jesus, is today just... long day day? Everybody seems to be having one."

"What do you mean?" Elphaba looked up, brow pulling together.

He shrugged. "Apparently Galinda’s been having a long day too."

And immediately regretted saying it.

Elphaba’s whole posture shifted. Something passed behind her eyes, tension, recognition, or maybe just confusion.

"Galinda was here?"

"Yeah. You just missed her." He hesitated, eyes narrowing slightly. "I thought you knew."

“I texted her but she didn’t reply,” she said, almost under her breath.

Wait, what?

"Oh—right," he said quickly. "She mentioned her phone was dead. Left it in her dorm or something."

Galinda had mentioned no such thing.  

But the way Elphaba’s shoulders eased ever so slightly made him glad he’d said it. He didn’t know what exactly was going on, but now he was sure something was. 

"So, you came to grab food?" he offered, nodding at the café door. "Better head in, they’re about to close."

"Yeah. Right," she said distantly.

"Come on." He tried for a smile. "You just won a free coupon for Best Dinner Companion Ever. I’ll keep you company while you eat and everything."

He held the door open, giving her a little space to decide.

After a second, she walked in and he followed.

Because something was definitely off. And he couldn’t fix it, probably wasn’t supposed to.

But he could sit with her, just for now.

**

Back in Milla’s dorm, Galinda stepped inside and shut the door gently behind her.

Running into Avaric had been nice. She’d never admit that to his face but he was good company. He cheered her up without trying, and best of all, he didn’t ask questions.

She needed that. Someone who didn’t ask why she felt like she was falling apart.

Because she didn’t know.

There it was again, that same unhinged feeling, still spinning in her chest like a loose wheel. 

She’d tried to sleep it off. She’d tried not to think about it. It didn’t help.

And now, after sleeping most of the day, she was wide awake, no escape.

Everything had been fine. More than fine.

Yesterday felt like magic. This morning was warm, light, theirs.

But now?

Now it all felt far away. Not even like a different day but like a different life.

Like a scene from a movie she’d only watched, not something she'd lived.

And suddenly she couldn’t remember if it had ever really been hers to begin with.

She climbed into Milla’s bed and curled around the second pillow, hugging it to her chest like it might answer her. It didn’t.

Not Remy. Not the car. Not the drive home that felt like it lasted a year, even though it barely crossed town.

But something had changed. Galinda could feel it in her bones.

That was it.

That was when it cracked.

The moment Remy showed up.

Because Remy wasn’t supposed to be there. Was she?

Remy felt like an out-of-place scene that makes you realize the whole dream isn’t real right before you wake up.

Remy didn’t belong in their story.

Not in the gala. Not in the great escape. Not in that fragile, perfect movie that Galinda and Elphie had been living.

Or—that Galinda had been living.

Because maybe she’d been the only one who thought it meant anything.

Maybe Elphie hadn’t felt any of it at all.

She kept coming back to that moment in the car.

Remy asking, casual: “How was the gala thing?”

Galinda's stomach turned.

How did she know?

She blinked at the ceiling, trying to breath, trying to ignore the thought forming in the back of her mind.

But it came anyway.

Had Elphie invited her first?

Had Remy only missed the gala because she had that trip with Fiyero? The one Elphaba had barely mentioned?

Was Galinda just the backup plan?

She shifted on the bed, the sheets suddenly scratchy and wrong. She sat up. Lay back down. Sat up again. Her skin itched

No. No, Elphie wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t.

Right?

But even if she had, her brain screamed at her, what did it matter? 

Elphaba has the right to invite whoever she wants. That doesn’t mean anything. Stop being a child.

But those words felt too familiar inside her head. That panicked, stinging feeling behind her eyes, that was familiar too.

Because even if it wasn’t true this time… it had been true before.

It didn’t matter whether Remy was invited first or not.

What mattered was that when things fell apart, when Elphie needed someone—

She didn’t turn to Galinda.

It was always someone else.

Remy.
Trism.
Fiyero.
Remy again.

Even with her standing right there. In her room. In her bed.

Sure, she brought her on the escape, of course she did. 

Elphaba wouldn’t leave her behind and risk making things worse with her father.

That was damage control.

Not special.

But when it really mattered, when they were halfway out the door, Elphie had already texted someone else.

Remy. Or Fiyero, whatever.

Galinda didn’t even know when it happened. When had Elphie found the time between spiraling and throwing things into a bag and dragging her down the stairs?

When did she pick up the phone and decide she needed someone else?

And why hadn’t she turned to her?

The tears came before she realized they’d started.

One fell.

Then another.

And then they just… kept coming.

Galinda curled in tighter, pressing the pillow hard to her chest, like it might hold her together.

Elphie never chooses me.

That was the truth.

That was the part she couldn’t say out loud.

She didn’t know why it hurt like this. Didn’t know why her chest felt so hollow.

She didn’t have the words for what this was.

But it felt like something had broken.

And all she knew — all she really knew —

Was that it hurt more than anything ever had.

**

Sleep wouldn’t come easily to either of them.

Galinda drifted off first, exhaustion finally outweighing the ache in her chest. The last tear dried on her cheek as her eyelids grew heavy, the pillow clutched tight against her ribs like a shield.

Across campus, Elphaba stared at her phone screen until the blue light burned her eyes. She scrolled past notifications, opened and closed apps, then circled back to Galinda’s chat for the fifth time. No new messages. She thumbed the keyboard, hesitated, and locked her phone instead.

The room was too quiet. The bed too big.

Somewhere between midnight and morning, sleep took her too.

Chapter Text

The Monday that came hit them both like a train.

Galinda woke up to a face that had obviously been crying, which became even more obvious when she stared at the mirror.

She could definitely not go out looking like that, but yesterday, in some sort of hurry, she hadn’t packed any makeup.

And even if she had, there was no way she could’ve packed enough makeup to fix this.

That was her first problem.

The second—and the one we’re very much avoiding thinking about—was the awful feeling she’d gone to bed with and that was still sitting there when she woke up.

Anyway, to fix the first problem, she needed to face the second.

She had to go back to her dorm room.

So she decided to wait around, take a shower, at least that, she could do. And maybe it would help, too.

Elphie would never be late to class, right? All she had to do was wait until she’d already left.

So that was it. She had a plan.

**

On the other side of campus, Galinda was right: Elphie would never be late to class.

At least, not willingly. Not on a normal day.

But this wasn’t a normal day.

She’d gone to bed late last night, which meant that today, she’d overslept her alarm.

Thirty minutes, to be exact.

Luckily, that was an alarm set for when she was home. But she wasn’t home. She was already at Shiz.

So, turned out, those 30 minutes were well spent. She needed every extra minute of sleep she could get.

She ignored the voices in her head asking about Galinda.

No, Galinda hadn’t texted back. And apparently hadn’t shown up either. But it was fine. They’d see each other in class.

It was probably fine. Elphaba was just overthinking, like she always did.

But then her phone buzzed, and all that fake composure hit the ground, because she dropped everything and lunged for it.

And yet, once again, it wasn’t Galinda.

And as if things couldn’t get any worse, it was her father.

Elphaba felt like screaming.

Instead, she just threw the phone across the bed, not even reading what he said.

Sorry, future Elphaba. That one’s on you.

She got ready, went through her morning routine, dressed quickly, and headed to class.

The air outside was cooler than expected. She almost turned back for a jacket.

Almost.

And if she had, she would've run into Galinda, who showed up at the dorm about five minutes after Elphaba left.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she got to class, chose her usual seat, and pretended she wasn’t glancing at the door every thirty seconds.

By the time the professor started talking, the seat next to her was still empty.

It was fine, she told herself. Galinda didn’t share her relationship with punctuality. She was late to almost every class, always getting caught talking to someone in the hallway, or chasing a bird, or singing to a bush. Or whatever.

So it was still fine.

But as time passed, Elphaba could feel her nerves crawling. She kept her head down, staring at her notes like they might hold the answer, Galinda’s location, maybe. Her leg bounced under the desk and didn’t stop.

It was a weird paradox. Time felt frozen; every second stretched on forever. But somehow, the professor was wrapping up, and people were standing, pushing back their chairs like it hadn’t been the longest hour of her life.

Tibbett was also missing today. Which meant there was no one to walk her misery lap across campus with.

**

Galinda walked into the dining hall looking ridiculously flawless for someone who went to bed crying.

Her makeup was impeccable. Her outfit, perfect. Hair? You could film a shampoo commercial.

She was glowing in that breaking-necks-when-she-passed kind of way.

So when she plopped down at their usual table, right in front of Elphaba, it took a second for Elphaba to believe she was real.

“Afternoon,” Galinda sing-songed.

Their friends, blissfully oblivious, greeted her like nothing had happened.

“Hey G, did you get a haircut?” Crope asked.

“Absolutely did not,” she said, instantly. “Why?”

“I don’t know. Something about you feels different.”

“In a good way or a bad way?” she asked, hand to her chest in mock horror.

“In the best way,” he said, laughing.

“He’s right, you do look different,” Fiyero added.

“Did you change your skincare again?” That was Shenshen.

If tears count as skincare, then yes, Galinda thought.

“Nope!” she said brightly, laughing. “Same old me.”

“Well, I don’t know what you did, but you’re glowing,” Shenshen pressed, and the others murmured in agreement.

“Stop it, you guys,” she said, pretending to be flustered. “You’re too sweet.”

They moved on after that, talking about something else, weekend plans, probably. Galinda focused on eating her lunch with a kind of calm that bordered on surreal.

And through all of it, Elphaba just stared at her. Like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. 

Because she couldn’t.

“…Where have you been?”

The question came out quieter than she meant it to. Blunter, too. It cut through the group’s noise just enough to make Avaric glance over. Everyone else kept chatting.

Galinda smiled. “Oh, Elphie, you have no idea. I completely overslept this morning. Lost all track of time.”

Elphaba frowned. “You’ve been asleep since yesterday at four p.m.?”

The way she said it, flat, but sharp, made Galinda’s stomach twist.

“Well, no,” she said quickly. “I was asleep at four, actually. But then I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep forever, and then suddenly it was morning.”

“I texted you.”

“My phone died,” Galinda replied, still smiling. “I left my charger with you, remember? I figured mine would hold out, but, spoiler alert, it didn’t.”

Elphaba didn’t say anything right away. She was watching too closely now. Like she was trying to find the cracks in Galinda’s face.

“So I stopped by the dorm to charge it,” Galinda added, more casually. “Just saw your message a little while ago, but I figured I’d see you here, and ta-da! Here we are.”

She speared something on her fork and popped it into her mouth like that was the end of it.

And Galinda wished it had been. 

Neither of them said anything else about it, but she had to spend the entire rest of lunch pretending really hard that she wasn’t feeling her face burn under Elphaba’s constant stare. 

She knew Elphaba was searching for signs that something was off, so she worked even harder to keep anything from showing.

She kept her face neutral, laughed when she was supposed to, even tossed out a few jokes, perfectly timed, perfectly delivered.

The performance was flawless.

But it was also exhausting.

So when she finished eating, the urge to be anywhere else nearly consumed her. One more minute in front of Elphaba and she was going to crack.

“Well,” she said brightly, dabbing her mouth with a napkin. “This has been a delight, but now I must leave you, my friends.”

She was already standing, grabbing her tray.

“Where to? Macro-Governance doesn’t start for another hour,” Tibbett asked. What was it with him and all the questions today?

“Oh, I know!” She hadn’t planned an excuse, she had to think fast. “I should… go find Professor Rain. Explain that I wasn’t feeling well, and that’s why I missed her class this morning!”

That was actually smart. Galinda had been trying to impress Professor Rain, especially after asking about doing research. She couldn’t afford to be on her bad side.

“So you weren’t feeling well?” Elphaba asked now, too quickly.

“Of course I was feeling well, silly,” Galinda said, forcing a calm look as she met her eyes. For fuck’s sake, I have to leave. “But she doesn’t have to know that.” She winked.

“Well. See you all later.”

Galinda didn’t actually head straight to Professor Rain’s office. She couldn’t go to her dorm either, so she turned the corner out of the dining hall and just... kept walking.

Past the lounge. Past the study hall. Moving quickly, like someone with a purpose.

But the truth was, she had no idea where she was going.

She just needed to be somewhere else.

Anywhere Elphaba wasn’t.

Eventually, her feet took her to the Politics and Policy building.

She slipped inside, ducked down the hallway, and into the women’s restroom.

Empty.

Thank Oz.

She locked herself in a stall, sat down fully clothed on the closed toilet lid, and stared at the floor.

Her hands were still perfectly manicured. Her hair still fell in soft waves—she could feel the weight of it, still smooth from the curl cream she’d used that morning.

Everything about her screamed normal.

Except she wasn’t.

She wasn’t okay.

Her chest ached in that dull, shameful way that didn’t feel worthy of tears but also wouldn’t leave her alone.

She’d done so well. No one had noticed anything.

Well. Elphaba had.

Of course she had.

Galinda leaned forward, resting her forehead against her knees.

She hated this. Hated that Elphaba could still look at her like that—like she knew her. Hated it even more because she did know her. Sometimes better than Galinda knew herself.

And yet, with all that Galinda Upland content stacked inside her brilliant, terrifying brain, she still didn’t get it.

Didn’t get her.

Maybe that’s why it hurt so much. Maybe that’s why she could hurt her so badly. Because Elphaba knew exactly where to press.

And the worst part was, she probably didn’t even do it on purpose.

Galinda knew that. And that made it all even more ridiculous, more painful. It was just Elphie’s way—her maddening, careless, unreachable way.

Which was also why Galinda knew she had to get a grip. This was stupid. This whole thing was stupid.

If you're going to be depressed, she thought bitterly, at least let it be for a real reason.

She took a deep breath.

That was it, then.

She stood up, checked her reflection in the mirror, fixed her lip gloss, and walked out, heading to class.

It was still early, and normally, she’d rather do anything than sit in a classroom waiting for it to start. But today she needed the advantage.

She weighed her options: the anxiety of waiting for Elphaba to arrive, or the risk of walking in and collapsing next to her if Elphaba was already there.

She’d be anxious either way.

So, early it was.

She picked a seat in their usual row, sat with perfect posture, and opened her notebook like she’d been reviewing last week’s lecture.

Tibbett came in first, dropping into the row ahead of her. 

She wished secretly, desperately, that he’d sit beside her. 

She also wished someone else would fill the seat on her other side, that way, Elphaba would be forced to sit at least one chair away.

Of course, that didn’t happen.

Then the door opened.

Galinda didn’t have to look to know who it was. She knew the sound of Elphaba’s boots, the rhythm of her stride. She could’ve recognized her by silence alone.

Luckily, she was already nodding along to some story Tibbett was telling, something about his roommate spilling coffee on a laptop and now it made screaming noises every time it turned on.

Galinda kept her eyes forward and her shoulders loose. Or… she hoped they looked loose. She wasn’t checking.

Not even when Elphaba’s bag landed in the seat beside hers.

“Hey,” Elphaba said simply.

They both greeted her back, like nothing had ever happened.

Their professor arrived soon after, and Tibbett turned forward, wrapping up his story in a whisper as class began.

Galinda had just started copying the lecture slide, well, pretending to, when she heard it:

“How was it?”

A quiet whisper. From Elphaba.

Galinda tried not to freeze, mostly because… she was actually confused.

“What?”

“The conversation,” Elphaba said. “With Professor Rain.”

Oh. Right. That.

“It was fine,” Galinda managed.

Elphaba kept looking at her, waiting.

“I think she likes me,” Galinda added, forcing a smile. “All I had to do was bat my pretty eyelashes.”

It wasn’t even a lie.

“Good,” Elphaba said.

Galinda didn’t look to see if she believed her.

Elphaba, for her part, turned her attention to class. 

(Or tried to, but Galinda didn’t know that.) 

They didn’t speak again.

Class carried on like any other, and Galinda sat still through all of it, scribbling down sentences she barely read.

By the time it ended, her head was pounding, but there was no time to rest.

She got up, ready for a quick escape, when Elphaba’s voice stopped her. "Hey, what do you say we take ten and then hit the library to study for Friday?"

The question was aimed at both her and Tibbett, but Elphaba’s eyes were on Galinda.

"Ugh, I'm toast," Tibbett groaned, already packing his bag. "My brain is completely fried. How do you even have the energy, E?"

"I guess I'm used to it," Elphaba said with a small shrug. Her gaze shifted back to Galinda, expectant.

 “I can't," Galinda said, staring at a fixed point on the wall behind Elphaba. "I have a big quiz for my elective tomorrow.” She couldn't bring herself to look up, couldn't bear to see the flicker of disappointment she knew would cross Elphaba’s face. "Baela and I are having a cram session."

“Oh. You’ll be at the library, then?” Elphaba asked, her voice carefully neutral.

Galinda hesitated for just a beat too long. “Actually, no. I’m going to her dorm.”

It wasn’t true.

But it could become true.

“Right,” Elphaba said. “Okay then.”

Nothing else was said. Once again.

As the three of them walked out the door, Galinda grabbed her phone and discreetly typed:

Galinda Upland:
hey
study session in your room? 
you don’t have to talk
just let me sit there and look like we are

Baela replied with a thumbs-up and six completely unrelated emojis.

That would do.

Galinda didn’t slow down until she was outside, where the air felt less thick and the sky was already bruising into evening.

She was getting good at this. Dodging, smiling, redirecting.

It didn’t feel like control though. It felt like spiraling, just tidier.

**

When Elphaba got back to Galinda’s dorm, the sun was already gone, and so was her energy. Turns out Tibbett had been right, trying to study after a day like this had been a dumb idea. She was drained.

Galinda wasn’t there yet, but Milla was already back. Elphaba had run into her at some point during the day, so that meant Galinda would appear sometime.

Probably...

She dropped onto the bed, grabbed her phone, and scrolled through all the messages she hadn’t answered. Then, just as she was about to put it down, Nessa’s name popped up on the screen.

She took a deep breath and rehearsed a smile then finally picke up.

"Hey Nessy." she tried

“Don’t ‘Nessy’ me,” Nessa snapped. “You still haven’t answered Father?”

Okay. She wasn’t having it.

“Well, I meant to… but it’s been a busy day, you know how it is and—”

“Elphaba.” Nessa cut her off. “This can’t go on forever. The longer you ignore him, the worse it gets.”

“How mad is he?”

“You know Father, he won’t actually say he’s mad. But he’s been quieter than usual, which puts him somewhere between seething and silently planning your exile.”

“Cool.” Elphaba rubbed her temples. “I’ll talk to him. Eventually.”

“Elphaba.”

“Okay. I’ll answer. I just… not today. I need to get through this next exam first. Everything else is already stressful enough.”

Nessa softened. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, you know. Between classes and midterms, my brain is already frying and it’s only Monday.” She thought about saying more but didn’t.

Still, Nessa caught it.

“I can only imagine…” Nessa said, like it was a throwaway comment. “And how's Galinda?”

Elphaba hesitated. “I don’t know.”

Nessa tilted her head. “What do you mean, you don’t know? Aren’t you in the same classes? Sleeping in her room?”

“Yes, but…” she sighed. “Milla’s room was free, so she slept there last night. And she only showed up for the afternoon class, so…”

“And she’s still not back yet?”

“No. She said she had a study session for her elective. With Baela. She’ll probably be back soon.” Or Elphaba hoped.

“Right,” Nessa said slowly. “And does that have anything to do with why you look like your puppy just died?”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” It was Elphaba's turn to snap, Milla had said the exact same thing earlier. "And why the sudden interrogation about Galinda?”

“Jesus, chill. I already forgot I asked,” Nessa said, holding up a hand but Elphaba felt bad.

“I’m sorry…” she sighed again. “I’m sorry, okay? The truth is I don’t know what’s going on. She’s acting normal, but she feels so far away. I don’t know if I did something or if she’s going through something and just not letting me in…”

“But she wasn’t acting weird at the Gala?” Nessa asked, already knowing the answer.

“No. She was fine. We were fine. But the moment we got back to Shiz, it’s like she flipped a switch. Do you think I should talk to her?”

Nessa took a second to think.

She’d already guessed this might happen when Elphaba mentioned Remy’s special appearance yesterday. And if Galinda was upset about it, she probably wouldn’t say it outright, not if Elphaba asked directly. Asking what’s wrong might just make things worse.

She probably just needed space. But how much space could you really get while sharing a bed?

“I don’t know, sis,” Nessa said carefully. “Maybe she’s just stressed too. It’s midterms for everyone.  Maybe she just needs some space?”

“Galinda hates space,” Elphaba said. “She’s too intense for that. Didn’t I tell you, freshman year she threw a water bottle at me?”

“She what?” Nessa laughed. “Why?”

“I told her I needed space after some stupid argument. Can’t even remember what it was about.”

Elphaba laughed too, though it came out thin.

“Well, then maybe she’ll come to you when she’s ready,” Nessa offered once they quieted. “If something’s really going on.”

“Yeah. Maybe.”

And, as if on cue, the door opened and Galinda walked in.

“Hey,” Elphaba said, sitting up a little.

“Hey.” That was all Galinda said, already setting her bag down. 

Elphaba would’ve already started her microanalysis spiral if Nessa hadn’t pulled her attention back.

“Well, I should go,” Nessa said quickly, clearly not signing up to witness whatever that was. “Places to be, people to charm. You know how it is.”

“Right. Talk to you later.”

“You better. And answer Father!!!!” Galinda heard that. 

“I will,” Elphaba muttered. “Promise.”

And with that, they hung up. 

Suddenly, Elphaba didn’t know what to do with herself. She was sitting on Galinda’s bed and it didn’t feel right. It was too quiet, which also didn’t feel right. So before she could stop herself—

“Did everything go alright? With Baela?”

Galinda didn’t look over. “Yeah. Study-palooza. Super productive.” Even she winced a little at how flat that sounded. She tried to fix it, casually. “But I’m exhausted.”

“Same,” Elphaba said.

Galinda crossed the room to grab something from her dresser. Elphaba stood too, pretending to rummage through her bag—mostly just to get off the bed and sit at the desk. Just in case Galinda wanted to lie down.

“The goal is just to make it out of midterms alive,” she added.

Galinda let out a dry little laugh. “I don’t think you’ll have a problem.”

“Neither will you,” Elphaba said, looking up and Galinda scoffed, but Elphaba didn’t stop. “I mean it. With study sessions that go until midnight, you’ll do better than fine.”

Elphaba didn’t know Galinda hadn’t been studying at all. She’d tried for a couple hours, but turns out Baela hadn’t been having a great day either so, eventually, they gave up and ordered pizza, ended up watching dumb movies until it was late. 

Still, she was exhausted. Just not for the reasons Elphaba thought.

“Well, I hope you’re right,” she said and that should’ve been the end of it. But then—

“So… you still haven’t talked to your father?”

She didn’t mean to ask, it just slipped out.

Elphaba didn’t see that coming. 

“Uh… not really.” She let out a dry, humorless laugh. “But I guess I can’t hide forever. He already sent his emissary. If I don’t answer soon, next thing we know there’ll be flying monkeys out your window.”

Galinda raised her eyebrows. “He had Nessa deliver the message?”

“Not exactly. He didn’t tell her to do it, but I know how he operates.”
Elphaba leaned back in the chair. “I’d feel guilty leaving her alone with him, but I think he actually likes her, so she’s safe.”

She regretted saying it immediately.

In her head, it had sounded like a joke. But it wasn’t, not really.

And she knew Galinda would catch that.

But of all the things Galinda could’ve said, of all the things she wanted to say, like he doesn’t deserve to make you feel like this, or you don’t need to be in his good graces when you’re already in mine, she didn’t say any of them.

Instead, she surprised even herself when she said,

“Well, if those flying monkeys actually show up, we can try to domesticate one, call it Chistery...”

She had no idea where that came from.

But it made Elphaba huff out something close to a laugh, and for a second, the air in the room felt a little less heavy.

Which would've been a good thing.

But in this exact moment, it wasn’t , because it pushed Elphaba over the cliff she’d already been teetering on all day.

“Hey, Glin?” It was stronger than her. “Is everything okay?”

But no. Galinda couldn’t do this right now.

She’d spent the whole day trying so hard to be alright, to be normal, to move past this stupid, childish ache. 

But she just couldn’t, not this soon.

Not with Elphaba calling her Glin, the name only she used, the one that made Galinda’s heart want to explode.

It felt like Elphaba had done it on purpose. But of course she hadn’t. Elphaba never knew the effect she had.

Still, Galinda couldn’t do this, not tonight.

“Yeah. I’m fine,” she said, all she could manage, without looking at her.

“Right… but you’d tell me if something was wrong, right?” Elphaba didn’t want to push but she had to make sure.

And Galinda didn’t plan to do it, she definitely didn’t realize she had done it, but she let out a scoffed laugh.

It wasn’t at Elphaba, it was at herself.

Because something was definately wrong, something she had no plans to say out loud.

Especially not to Elphaba.

"What?" Elphaba asked.

Fuck.

Galinda turned to her now. “There’s nothing wrong, Elphie.”

The look she gave was supposed to be reassuring, but it didn’t land, her eyes were too empty. 

She saw it, saw Elphaba see it too, so she looked away again.

“Then why are you being like this?”

“Like what? I said I'm tired.” She didn’t want to fight, she really didn’t.

“You’ve barely talked to me all day.” That hadn’t been part of Elphaba’s plan either but it slipped out.

Galinda’s jaw tightened.

“I have talked to you,” she said, still facing the dresser. “We talked at lunch. At class. Right now.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Well, maybe try meaning what you mean, Elphie. I’m not a mind reader.”

That one landed way harder than Galinda meant it to.

“Okay,” Elphaba said quiet, closing in.

Galinda pressed her lips together. She hadn’t meant to snap, but the words were out, and they weren’t coming back.

“I’m gonna take a shower.” And with that, she disappeared into the bathroom. For the second time this week it had become a refuge.

She stayed under the water a long time, letting it hit her skin until it stopped feeling good.

She would’ve cried, if she had the strength. But she didn’t, so she just stood there, forehead against the tile, trying not to think about how it would be when she walked back out.

When she finally did, towel around her shoulders and hair still damp, the lights in the room were dim, and the scene she found was... both heartbreaking and, in a way, a relief.

Elphaba was already asleep, but not on her bed.

She’d made a bed out of spare blankets on the floor, curled up right beside Galinda’s bed

There was nothing left to do but let the day end, so that’s what she did. She lay in bed and let exhaustion take over.