Chapter 2
With Boq’s ongoing excitement beside her, they make their way down the bustling hallway, the air charged with new energy of the previous night's events. The students part reluctantly around them as if fearing Elphaba's proximity might ignite further chaos, their usual banter replaced by an awkward hush and nervous glances. The vibrant possibilities of what the events of last night could inspire seemed to feed Boq’s energy, whereas Elphaba felt the charged air crawl across her skin, the invasive stares pressing into her. She tries to ignore them, tries to drown out their hasty shuffles and whispers, and instead she focuses on Boq’s lively account, trying to let his chatter pull her away from the discomfort.
“Plus, Fiyero totally knows you kicked their asses with Avaric the strong going down over some dirt! Does that make me powerful by association or what?” Boq quipped as he quickly turned to look Elphaba in the eyes.
“I’m glad the disaster that was last night worked in your favor, Boq. Something I had no plan to be known by the entire student body was suddenly the draw of the night and on top of it, my roommate did not even look in my direction after I got back.” Elphaba retorts with a sigh.
Elphaba and Boq step into the classroom, conversations trailing off as eyes dart toward them, the air thick with expectation. They make their way to the back as whispers ripple across the room. Crope leans across two desks, his voice a sliver, uselessly quiet as he attempts not to add to the attention they are receiving, “Holy shit! Are you guys okay?” He looks them up and down, scanning for any leftover injuries from the night before.
Perplexed but sprightly, Boq beams, “Of course! Why wouldn't we be?” He drops into the hard wooden chair next to him with a heavier thud than he meant to, not quite masking his excitement about the attention.
“So how'd you do it?” Tibbett asks. His eyes gleam with almost too much curiosity as Elphaba pauses mid-bend to put her bag down.
“Do what?” she questions, her eyes dark and furrowed with doubt as she sets her things next to her. She sounds weary already of how her day was turning out.
Before Tibbett can clarify, the classroom door squeaks open, and everyone turns to see Avaric walk in, an oversized eyepatch hiding one eye and an elaborate neckbrace pushing his chin up to the ceiling. He dramatically limps into the class, nearly tripping over every desk and chair slightly in his way. Boq quickly shoots Elphaba a shocked and confused look, not believing how bad off Avaric appears to be. She quickly retorts back with a scoff in a hushed tone, “It was not that bad!”
Avaric walks by the four of them with his only available eye on Elphaba, the silence less than subtle as the rest of the class watches him clumsily walk to his regular seat. As soon as he is a safe distance away from them, the murmurings get louder.
“Did he fight back?” Tibbett asks Elphaba as he nods in Avaric’s direction.
“Oh my god, Tibbs! She's a witch! They do crazy stuff in Munchkinland!” Crope responds a little too loud as if it explains anything, and Elphaba shoots a glare directly into his skull. The rumors are more out of hand than she thought.
Before Elphaba can protest more, Avaric shouts her in her direction causing the group to quickly turn to him, “Hey, green bitch! This is you!” He breaks a pencil into two in his hands, and picks up one of the broken pieces. He runs it across his throat as the classmates gasp at the sudden action, Elphaba quickly turns back to the front of the room with her eyes slightly bulging.
Doctor Dillamond, at the front of the class, looks up from the stack of papers on his desk, and without much reprimand, he states, “Mister Tenmeadows! At least try to make your threats discrete if you are to do them in the classroom.”
None of this was what Elphaba had planned. She slumps into her seat with a mix of dread and anger. No one was supposed to know anything happened last night, and she and Boq were most certainly not okay by this school's standards.
What was left of their class time was quickly silenced by the announcement system going off. “Your attention, please,” the announcement begins. The entire room is quietened as the voice of their headmistress, Madame Morrible, informs the school of an assault that happened last night on the campus, despite clearly being a different situation than what happened to Avaric and the rest of the group. She was now certain this was headed in a direction she had no control over. Girls around the class shoot up in fear, and loud murmurs are heard around the class. Doctor Dillamond takes a deep breath and ends the class shortly after the announcement, with the rest of the students fleeing from the classroom.
“That’s it? That’s class?” Boq questions with brows raised. He glanced around the chaotic room as he was still leaning back in his chair, the entire morning going in a different direction than he planned now that it was cut short.
Elphaba starts to gather her bag together as Boq taps a beat with his foot and waits for her. That was not the kind of announcement she ever wanted to hear, and definitely not something she wanted to be caught in the middle of. As she reaches for the rest of her things on the desk in front of her, she senses a presence in front of her. She looks up and is greeted by Fiyero with his arm around Galinda’s shoulder, a sight all too familiar now since they started dating.
“Hey Elphie! You totally beat up Avaric last night, didn't you?” Galinda questions with her hand grasping at Fiyero’s that was on her shoulder. However her gaze is locked on Elphaba with a small smile. Elphaba continues to be unable to break the gaze with her mouth slightly agap at the public attention she’s receiving.
“Me?” Elphaba questions out loud, obviously caught off guard. “I mean you were with us...” she finally gets out, trailing off with a hint of sadness in her words. She felt torn between wanting to be known and being ignored, as usual.
“I heard you guys totally killed people in Munchkinland and stuff,” Fiyero interrupts with a cocked smile breaking the moment between the two girls, as if it were a normal thing to happen among Munchkinlanders. Elphaba tilts her head in bewilderment. How far had this rumor gone in just one morning?
Not one to let things fall through his grasp, Boq seizes the opportunity at hand. “Really?” he starts, fumbling a bit. “Uh--I mean wow! What do you think about that?” he stammers out, trying to keep his tone as cool as he possibly can.
However, just as before, he is denied an answer as the announcement system makes its presence once again. “Miss Thropp and Master Woodsman, please report to the office.”
The two are quickly ushered into the headmistress's dreadful office, a room overwhelmingly highlighted in mute greens that distract the senses from the stark blue and white fixtures that the school is known for. The office, though vast, feels suffocating and authoritarian, with an intricate web of charts and lists detailing the affairs of Shiz cluttering its walls, and an array of clocks ticking solemnly in the corners. Madame Morrible presides over the chaos, her stony presence dominating all; she lifts her gaze silently at the two delinquents before her pushing out a hand to offer them to sit at the two seats sprawled out before her desk. Boq and Elphaba quietly seat themselves, awkwardly, in the over-plush chairs as they catch the disdainful glare of the headmistress.
“I’m sure the two of you know why you were called in here,” Madame Morrible punctually states without even a hint of doubt.
“Yes, and I’m so sorry-” Elphaba bursts out from her still awkward position in the opulently rich chair as she builds up her apology.
“I actually don't” Boq interrupts, his voice distrustful as he shoots out the statement.
“For committing a crime against one of the most important students at Shiz. I’m sure you are both aware of Master Tenmeadow’s status here in Oz.” Madame Morrible says from her imposing perch behind the desk, her face set like stone.
Boq huffs out a breath and slowly rolls his eyes, his annoyance barely hidden, at the mention of the status of the future Mangraeve. It was nearly the first thing every admitted Shiz student learned, whether they wanted to or not, and definitely had no choice of forgetting it once they had the information with the Tenmeadow’s name sprawled across the history of Shiz.
“Do you know how long until we have the banquet that the Tenmeadow’s have set up here at Shiz?” Morrible barrels on as Boq and Elphaba shift uncomfortably, “One month. One month and their proud protégé is in a neck brace and ridiculous eyepatch.”
“Listen, I can explain,” Elphaba shyly responds, her voice barely above a whisper. Her face is rapidly turning a shade as green as the overbearing walls as she fumbles to explain herself.
Boq quickly cuts her off, his tone sharp, “No, I can explain. Avaric tried to kill us!”
“Oh, and I’m supposed to believe the most notable student in this school tried to kill the two of you? Is that why unnecessary magic was needed to be brought into this?” Morrible questions as she raises an eyebrow; her skepticism and authority dripping from each word as she challenges the two in front of her, who shrink under her gaze.
Elphaba cowards down in shame at the mention of the unexplained magic, and Boq tries to build a response, “You know what? I’m going to expel you both.” Morrible boredly says as she leans back into her towering seat.
Elphaba quickly launches out of her seat to make a plea. “You have to understand that this was all just a big misunderstanding. We were just practicing… for… our.. Uh- self-defense club,” she stutters out, desperate to be heard and inwardly cringing at the lie that was created.
“Self-defense? What is that? Like a fight club?” Morrible questions as she leans up a bit.
“Well, heres the thing-” Elphaba blunders as she awkwardly fidgets around from the standing position in front of the desk.
“Yes! Yes! A fight club where we uh beat each other up!” Boq shoots out as he leaps to Elphaba’s side, trying to build this lie.
“No- no, we don't.” Elphaba states matter a fact as to try to diminish the worst excuse she has come up with.
“You know what? I don't care. You can beat each other up for all I care. Just do not touch any more students of nobility within this school.” Morrible says as she waves her hand to end the conversation.
“Yes, Madame.” Boq and Elphaba both say as they stand with their hands behind their back in front of the desk, silently accepting this rare opportunity of victory from the headmistress.
“I can't believe they're letting you start a real fight club,” Crope chimes in, settling alongside the others as they gather their trays and sit down at a weathered wooden bench outside the dining hall, eager to get into the latest gossip over lunch. Crope's tone is both incredulous and excited, his eyes sparkling with the possibilities that have arisen.
“No, Crope. They are not letting us do anything. That's not what’s happening at all,” Elphaba interjects, plunking down across from her wide-eyed friend. She pushes a lock of dark hair behind her ear, trying to tamp down his enthusiasm with a dose of reality. “We are not starting a fight club,” she adds, her voice matter-of-fact.
“What are you talking about? Of course, we are,” Boq responds nonchalantly with a shrug, seated confidently next to Crope, utterly unfazed by Elphaba's words. He leans back casually, his wiry Munchkin frame barely taking up space, yet his determination looms large between them. In Boq's mind, this was already a done deal, a train leaving the station, and he was the one driving it, madly waving to Elphaba from the conductor's seat.
“Boq, I wasn't being serious,” Elphaba replies, shaking her head at his unrelenting fixation. Her eyes narrow in confusion, unable to understand how Boq is eagerly pushing forward, ignoring all other signals but his own.
“Elphaba, did you see how Galinda and Fiyero were looking at us earlier?” Boq persists, his face lighting up with the memory, stubbornly holding on to his vision in full color. He receives a weary yet amused groan from the dark-haired girl, but he barrels ahead undeterred. “Plus, you heard the announcement! The weak are terrified! It's perfect. They need this!”
“I’m a little concerned about how you are so quick to brush off women’s concerns of being assaulted and making this a group project,” Elphaba replies, quirking an eyebrow as Boq brushes off her with a flick of his hand, silently spiraling into a frenzy of plotting as if that were his very life force. “What they really need is mace or maybe even a knife. We can't do that kind of club. We would be misleading them.” Her eyebrows arch with her pointed response, and her mouth tightens as if she can already picture the chaos Boq's grand scheme will unleash.
“Elphaba, aren't you all about feminism and equality? About the people rising up and having power? This is what they need. This is the point of it!” Boq shouts out, his voice lifting with conspiring enthusiasm, as though she's the crazy one for not connecting the dots in the same frenzied way he is. He relishes the words, tossing them like sparking fuses in her direction, confident they will ignite a fire in her as hotly as they burn in him.
Elphaba looks on incredulously, her mind trying to catch up with Boq's skewed logic. “That is not the point of either of those things. And we don't even know how to fight!” Her voice shouts out, as if Boq and his blind certainty are things from another world entirely, yet they've landed right at her feet, demanding attention.
Crope perks up at her last statement, his ears attuned to any opening he can exploit. “You guys don't know how to fight?” he echoes incredulously. “What about everything that happened in Munckinland?” His eyes are wide as if he is trying to understand why they lied to him.
“You were the one who said things happened in Munckinland, Crope. I just didn't correct you,” Boq retorts, waving his hand dismissively to sweep Crope's fantasies away. This is the least of his concerns right now, while Elphaba huffs out her frustration at the group of men, who don’t seem to be directly responding to anything other than their own excitement.
“Listen! Elphaba, self-defense is like... it's instinctual. It's common sense. You try and punch me in the face? I stop it from happening.” Boq pleads with an awkward movement of his body mock fighting the air, “Or in your case, you use your overpowering sense of magic to make it not happen.”
Crope senses this as a perfect time to but in, “Listen, we start out with the basics of stage combat, which Tibbett and I have covered. Basic punches, kicks, slaps, chokes, hair-pulling. The list goes on and on,” Boq makes a look of victory as the rare time that Crope’s comments build his case even if he’s missing the point. All they receive from the green girl however, is a groan as she quickly hides her face in her arms trying to disarm the possibility of this ridiculous plan having supporters.
“Listen, Elphaba, we’re doing this! We teach a bunch of girls and weak men to defend themselves against the evil Shiz student hunters. They’re grateful for us. We build a community. We bond! We share, we connect!” Boq’s wild amusement builds with each statement, the enthusiasm of his own rebellion whipping him into his continued frenzy until he launches blissfully to the breaking point, “We’re punching each other, adrenaline flowing. Next thing you know, Fiyero and Galinda are kissing us on the mouths!”
Elphaba huffs out another groan, still unmoving, but slowly allows herself to fall into Boq’s unwavering plans. It's as if a growing part of her can't resist the irresistible absurdity of his dream.
“Elphaba. Galinda referred to you with a nickname! Other than a ‘wicked green thing’ or any relation to your skin color. How good did that feel!” Boq playfully insists, aware that this is a card she won’t be able to resist.
“Fine! But if we do this, we just run the risk of becoming even bigger losers than the losers we already are now. And I hate to break it to you, but we're pretty big losers already,” Elphaba points out with a laugh of disbelief, her reluctant agreement like a rare prize to Boq who is gleaming with the victory of relentless optimism.
“And isn't that the beauty of this! We are already at the bottom! We are the lowest of the low! There is nowhere to go but up!” Boq exclaims, his voice lifting as though the very wind is carrying it towards glorious success, or at least towards something more exciting than what they've got now.
“Listen, I think this is a pretty good idea. There’s a serious lack of a safe space for girls and gay guys at this school,” Crope states. His voice is charged with passion as he interrupts the two from their plans.
“That is not the point, Crope. That is not the point,” Boq says as he shakes his head at the boy.