Chapter 4
The afternoon passed in a blur of lectures and idle chatter, but Galinda’s mind was elsewhere.
Or rather—on someone else.
Elphaba had been watching her.
Not obviously, of course. She was far too composed for that. But Galinda had caught the flickers of glances, as they passed in the halls. The slight tilted frown on her lips when she caught her staring across the courtyard.
It was delicious.
And now, as the sun dipped low in the sky, casting golden light over the courtyard, Galinda lingered, waiting.
She didn’t have to wait long.
Elphaba stepped outside, her satchel slung over one shoulder, fingers sifting through a stack of loose papers as she walked. Galinda let herself smirk before stepping directly into her path.
“Elphie, darling!” she trilled.
Elphaba barely looked up. “You’re in my way.”
Galinda pouted. “How rude. And after I came all this way just to tell you the most fascinating thing.”
Elphaba sighed, stuffing her papers into her bag with a sharp flick of her wrist. “Alright,” she said. “Let’s have it, then.”
Galinda beamed. “Well, you’ll never believe who I had the most interesting conversation with earlier.”
Elphaba’s fingers twitched.
Galinda waited, watching the way her expression flickered between exasperation and something more guarded.
“…You didn’t.”
“I did! ” Galinda chirped, clasping her hands together. “And oh, Elphie, she’s quite entertaining.”
The muscle in Elphaba’s jaw jumped.
Galinda nearly laughed at how easy this was.
“How wonderful for you,” Elphaba said flatly.
Galinda hummed. “Isn’t it? She’s really quite a character. And so fascinating.”
Elphaba’s gaze sharpened. “Fascinating?”
“Mmm.” Galinda tapped a finger to her chin, feigning thoughtfulness. “What was it she said? Oh, yes! She was positively gushing about how intelligent you are.”
Elphaba blinked, caught off guard for just a fraction of a second.
Galinda tilted her head, letting the words settle. “She seems very fond of you.”
The words felt vile on her tongue but they slid out from between her lips as easily as honey.
Elphaba scoffed, recovering quickly. “She hardly knows me.”
Galinda sighed dramatically. “Yes, well, I suppose I can’t blame her.” She let the corner of her mouth curl, stepping just a hair closer. “You do have a certain charm about you.”
That got her.
Elphaba froze, her breath catching so imperceptibly that someone less observant might not have noticed. But Galinda did.
She felt the thrill of it curl through her, heady and electric.
“I mean, really,” she mused, voice dipping softer, teasing, “who wouldn’t be drawn to you?”
Elphaba’s throat bobbed.
Galinda grinned.
“I simply must spend some more time with her, I’m sure we will be the closest of friends soon enough.”
She had her.
But then—
Something shifted.
The tension in Elphaba’s frame melted, but not in the way Galinda had intended. The restraint in her eyes gave way to something deeper, something darker. And before Galinda could process it, Elphaba was stepping into her space.
Galinda’s breath hitched.
Elphaba tilted her head, her voice dipping to a low murmur.
“So that’s what this is about.”
Galinda swallowed. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you mean.”
Elphaba studied her, and then—slowly, infuriatingly—she smiled.
“You’re trying to make me jealous.”
Galinda opened her mouth—then promptly snapped it shut.
Elphaba’s amusement only deepened. “How transparent.”
Galinda bristled. “I am not— ”
“Admit it, my sweet,” Elphaba cut in smoothly, her tone so maddeningly smug that Galinda could scream. “You hate when I give anyone else attention.”
Galinda’s pulse roared in her ears.
She stepped back instinctively, desperate to regain the upper hand, but Elphaba only followed, a shadow with nowhere to run from. Her hand raised and she gently wrapped a golden curl around her slender finger.
“Tell me,” Elphaba continued, voice soft as a purr, “was it torturous watching me talk to her?”
Galinda burned and turned her nose up.
“Elphaba Thropp, you are insufferable!”
Elphaba merely grinned. “And yet,” she echoed, releasing her curl and stepping back, just enough to let her words linger, “you insist on keeping my company.”
Galinda hated her.
And she definitely wasn’t thinking about how breathtaking she looked with the sunset painting her in warm golds, or how her voice sent shivers curling through her, or how—
Galinda huffed, flipping her curls over her shoulder with as much dignity as she could muster. “Enjoy your evening, darling.”
She turned sharply on her heel and marched away, willing her heart to settle. Because this was not over.
Not by a long shot.
The evening air was cool against Galinda’s skin, but the heat simmering beneath it was impossible to ignore.
She loathed Elphaba sometimes.
Loathed the way she always had a counter, always found a way to turn things back on Galinda before she even had time to react. Loathed the way her voice wrapped around words like a promise, or a dare, or—
Galinda clenched her jaw, forcing herself to walk at a perfectly composed pace, her chin lifted, her curls bouncing with each step.
This was fine.
She would simply have to play the long game.
Let Elphaba think she had won this round—let her bask in that awful smugness she wore so well. It would only make it sweeter when Galinda turned the tables.
After all, she always did…Eventually.
That night, as she sat at her vanity, brushing out her hair with long, even strokes, she allowed herself to think back on the way Elphaba had looked at her— really looked at her.
Not with disdain.
Not with exasperation.
But with something closer to delight.
As if Galinda had stepped directly into whatever game Elphaba was playing—and, instead of winning, had found herself outmatched.
Galinda scowled at her own reflection.
That wouldn’t do.
Her eyes darted to Elphaba who was sitting in bed, reading as usual, paying her no mind.
She set down her brush and turned toward the window. The moon hung low, silver light spilling over the courtyard below. The same courtyard where Elphaba had caught her, turned the game against her, left her breathless.
Galinda exhaled sharply through her nose.
This was not over.
And tomorrow— tomorrow, she would remind Elphaba exactly who she was dealing with.
____
The opportunity presented itself at breakfast.
Elphaba was already seated at their usual table, a book open in front of her, though her food remained largely untouched. Her fingers tapped absently against the table, her brow furrowed in thought.
Galinda approached with measured steps, her smile poised, her movements effortless . She didn’t sit immediately. Instead, she let her fingers trail over the back of Elphaba’s chair as she leaned in just slightly.
“Good morning, darling.”
Elphaba barely flicked her gaze up. “You’re awfully chipper.”
Galinda hummed, resting her chin in her hand as she lingered in Elphaba’s space. “And you’re awfully distracted.”
Elphaba finally turned toward her, arching a slow, unimpressed brow. “I was reading.”
Galinda smiled sweetly. “And now you’re not.”
Elphaba exhaled through her nose, her lips twitching—whether in irritation or amusement, Galinda couldn’t quite tell.
She decided to push. With the same deliberate grace she had spent years perfecting, she slid into the seat beside Elphaba, reaching for a piece of fruit from her plate without asking.
Elphaba narrowed her eyes. “That’s mine.”
Galinda took a dainty bite, her gaze never wavering.
“So possessive,” she murmured.
Elphaba stilled. Now that was interesting.
Galinda smiled behind another bite of fruit, tilting her head as if in thought. “Though I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”
Elphaba’s expression remained impassive, but there was something in the way her grip tightened around the edge of her book.
Galinda leaned in, voice dipping low—just for Elphaba to hear.
“You do hate to share, after all.”
Elphaba inhaled sharply.
Galinda grinned.
Her turn.
Elphaba’s fingers curled tighter around her book, knuckles going pale. Her face remained unreadable, but Galinda could feel the tension rolling off of her, the quiet battle waging beneath that carefully controlled exterior.
She tilted her head, letting her gaze flicker downward for the briefest moment—just enough for Elphaba to notice.
“Not going to deny it?” she murmured.
Elphaba’s jaw twitched. “I don’t have the patience for whatever game you think you’re playing.”
“Oh, Elphie.” Galinda sighed, utterly pleased. She lifted her hand and, with the softest, most infuriatingly delicate touch, smoothed an invisible wrinkle from Elphaba’s sleeve. “It’s adorable how you pretend this isn’t fun for you.”
Elphaba went utterly still.
Got her.
Galinda fought back a victorious smirk, allowing herself instead a slow, casual blink and smooth flirty smile. She settled back in her seat, stretching her arms behind her with an air of effortless confidence.
“Well,” she mused, plucking another piece of fruit from Elphaba’s plate, “I was going to let you off easy, but I must say, you make it so enjoyable to watch you squirm.”
Elphaba’s nostrils flared just slightly.
And then—
“Oh, Miss Elphaba.”
Galinda’s stomach dropped.
She didn’t have to turn to know who it was.
Mariel.
Damn it all.
Elphaba’s gaze flicked past Galinda, and for the first time since this entire dance had begun, Galinda felt the moment slipping from her grasp. She schooled her expression into something pleasant, something composed, before turning toward the interruption with a practiced smile.
“Mariel,” Galinda greeted, coolly. “What a surprise.”
Mariel, of course, was glowing, utterly at ease as she stepped closer, her attention fixed entirely on Elphaba. She was pointedly ignoring Galinda.
Mariel tilted her head, blue eyes twinkling as she let her gaze sweep over her. “I do hope I’m not interrupting anything too important.” She smiled, the perfect picture of innocence. “Though, I must say, you do look rather engaged with dear Galinda.”
Galinda’s eyes narrowed. It was one thing when Galinda was interrupting her, but it was another thing entirely when she had the nerve to interrupt her back.
Mariel didn’t so much as glance at her. Instead, she leaned in slightly, her voice dipping just so.
“You know,” she mused, “I was just thinking how every time we speak, I find myself wanting more.”
Elphaba arched her brow. “More?”
“Mmm.” Mariel hummed, tapping a manicured nail against her chin. “More of that brilliant mind of yours, of course.” She tilted her head. “And perhaps… a little more of your time?”
Galinda hated her.
Elphaba, to Galinda’s absolute horror, looked vaguely amused.
“Oh?” she said. “And here I thought you’d already had your fill.”
Mariel’s smile turned sly. “Oh, darling. I could never tire of you.”
Galinda’s eye twitched.
Darling?
Darling?!
That was her word!
She had built that word from the ground up—crafted it into something soft, something secret, something she could weave between teasing remarks and sharp-edged affection.
It was hers.
And Mariel had the gall to use it so casually?
Galinda’s smile stayed fixed in place, but her nails dug into her thigh beneath the table.
Elphaba, infuriatingly, didn’t seem to notice the theft—or if she did, she wasn’t nearly offended enough.
“I wasn’t aware my company was such a commodity.”
Mariel’s smile widened. “Well, one mustn’t underestimate the value of rare things.”
Galinda could have screamed.
Rare things?
As if Elphaba were some precious gem—as if Galinda herself hadn’t been the only one who had ever bothered to see Elphaba’s worth before anyone else.
She sat up straighter, brushing her hair over her shoulder with an air of effortless elegance. “Oh, Elphie doesn’t let just anyone close, do you, darling?”
She savored the way Mariel’s brow twitched ever so slightly.
Two could play this game.
Elphaba, the wicked thing, leaned back in her chair and simply watched the exchange.
“Is that so?” Mariel asked, voice smooth but not quite as steady as before.
Galinda smiled, slow and deliberate.
“Quite.“
Mariel hummed, tapping a manicured finger against her chin as she studied Galinda.
Then, with deliberate ease, she turned her attention back to Elphaba, tilting her head ever so slightly. “Well, then,” she mused, her voice slipping into something even softer. Silkier. “I do so love a challenge.”
Elphaba’s brows lifted just slightly, her amusement flickering. “Then I suppose you’ll be terribly disappointed.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Mariel murmured, shifting closer. “I’ve been told I have a rather persuasive nature.”
Galinda’s jaw clenched. Elphaba, to her infinite betrayal, smirked.
“Is that so?”
Mariel let out a quiet laugh, all honeyed charm. “But I imagine you’re already well aware of that.”
Elphaba exhaled through her nose, something dangerously close to entertained . “Am I?”
Mariel grinned. “Well, you do keep speaking to me, don’t you?”
That was it.
Galinda’s smile was blinding as she reached forward, ever so gently resting a hand on Elphaba’s arm. “Oh, Elphie speaks to many people, dear,” she lied sweetly, watching as Mariel’s eyes flickered briefly to the touch.
Elphaba, infuriatingly, didn’t move.
Mariel merely hummed. “Well, of course. I’d be terribly concerned if she only had one friend.”
Galinda’s fingers twitched against Elphaba’s arm, and she knew Elphaba felt it.
Elphaba let out a soft, almost amused breath. “No need to worry, then.”
Galinda could feel Mariel’s satisfaction. The little glimmer in her eye, the barely concealed victory in her expression.
She hated her.
With a final, perfectly poised smile, Mariel tilted her head. “It’s been a pleasure, as always, Miss Elphaba. I do hope we can continue our conversation soon.”
She turned her attention back to Galinda, her expression infuriatingly knowing.
“And Miss Galinda,” she purred, rising gracefully to her feet, “such a delight, truly.”
Galinda smiled through her teeth. “Oh, the pleasure was all mine.”
Mariel laughed—light, airy, and dripping in smug satisfaction—before turning and striding off, leaving the tension crackling in her wake.
Silence.
Galinda’s grip on Elphaba’s arm tightened. Elphaba, finally, finally, glanced at her. The absolute audacity in her expression.
Galinda exhaled sharply through her nose, lifting her chin. “You encourage her.”
Elphaba smirked. “She’s amusing.”
Galinda was seething.
“Well, I’m simply thrilled that you find her so entertaining.” she snapped, snatching her hand away.
Elphaba blinked at her, bemused.
“Don’t you?”
Galinda ignored her, gathering her things with unnecessary force.
“Now where are you going, my sweet?” Elphaba asked, tapping her nails against the table.
“Elsewhere.”
It was simple, direct, and Elphaba didn’t expect it. Galinda simply rose and with every ounce of perfection she could muster she strolled out of the dining hall.
It started as a walk, evolved into a skip, and soon Galinda was running. She had to get away from everyone. It wasn’t until she came to the edge of campus, where the large iron gates of Shiz greeted her that she collapsed onto the grass. Her face in her hands as she grumbled words that would have her mother shrieking.
“Oh how the mighty have fallen.”
A smooth voice cut through her thoughts. In a jerky motion her head shot up to find none other than Fiyero smiling down at her.
“That was quite a little show the two of you put on back there.”
Fiyero crouched beside her, resting his forearms on his knees. His ever-present smirk was firmly in place, but there was something sharper in his gaze, something far too knowing.
Galinda lifted her chin, brushing invisible dust from her skirts. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you mean.”
Fiyero huffed out a laugh. “Oh, please, spare me the performance, Galinda. I’ve seen you command a room with a single toss of your curls. You’re never flustered. And yet—” he gestured lazily toward her, sprawled in the grass, her poise shattered. “Here we are.”
Galinda pursed her lips, steeling herself. “I simply needed some air.”
Fiyero hummed, unconvinced. “Right. And I suppose it has nothing to do with Elphaba and Mariel?”
Galinda’s stomach twisted at the mere mention of that girl's name.
She schooled her expression into something delicately bored. “I don’t see why it would.”
Fiyero grinned. “Because you, my dear, are positively seething.”
Galinda huffed, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “Oh, don’t be ridiculous.”
Fiyero merely grinned wider.
“She’s doing it on purpose, you know.”
Galinda blinked. “Who?”
Fiyero gave her a look.
Galinda exhaled sharply, glancing away. “She’s not.”
“She is.” Fiyero plopped onto the grass beside her, stretching out with infuriating ease. “She likes to get under your skin.”
“She likes to be a nusince.” Galinda shot back.
Fiyero hummed, studying Galinda.
“You should see her whenever I flirt with her, it’s quite amusing.” He casually stated, turning his face towards the sun.
Galinda’s head whipped around, her gaze a bit frantic.
Fiyero laughed. “Oh, that got a reaction.”
Galinda glared. “You’re insufferable!”
“Yes, I’ve been told.” He leaned back on his elbows, looking far too pleased with himself. “You know, I find it fascinating.”
Galinda narrowed her eyes. “What?”
Fiyero grinned. “You and her. It’s like watching a perfectly choreographed dance. Only neither of you realize you’re dancing.”
Galinda’s breath caught. She turned her gaze back toward the iron gates, staring at them as if they held the answers to everything.
Because Fiyero wasn’t wrong, and that was the problem. She had spent so long convincing herself that it was all just a game. A bit of harmless fun. But now, with Mariel slinking into the picture, touching her Elphaba’s arm, purring her word—
Galinda clenched her jaw.
Fiyero watched her, clearly amused. “You should tell her, you know.”
Galinda scoffed. “Tell her what?”
Fiyero smirked. “That you want her all to yourself.”
Galinda flushed—but she did not blush.
She shot to her feet, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles in her skirt and turned her nose up at him. “Don’t be absurd.”
Fiyero only chuckled, his grin maddeningly smug.
Galinda ran a hand through her curls. “This has been lovely, Fiyero, truly, but I have far more important matters to attend to.”
Fiyero propped his chin in his hand. “Of course. Do be sure to tell Elphaba I said hello.”
Galinda spun on her heel and marched back toward campus, her mind already racing.
Because Fiyero was right. Something had to change.
____
The moment Galinda stepped back onto campus, she had a plan.
Or at least, she would have a plan, once she figured out exactly how to deal with Mariel.
Because it wasn’t as if she was jealous. Oh, certainly not. She simply couldn’t stand the audacity of it all—Mariel thinking she could slink in, bat her lashes, and lay claim to Elphaba’s attention.
And that word— darling.
Galinda grit her teeth just thinking about it.
No, this wouldn’t do at all.
She needed to reassert herself.
And what better way than by proving to everyone exactly who Elphaba belonged to?
She found her target in the library.
Elphaba was exactly where Galinda expected—tucked away in a shadowed corner, a heavy tome propped open in front of her. She was hunched forward, elbow on the table, fingers curled against her jaw.
Galinda took a moment to admire her.
Elphaba always looked so at home in the library, as if the scent of old parchment and ink were woven into her very being. Galinda’s fingers twitched at her sides.
She’s mine. She thought, rather fiercely.
And she was about to make sure everyone else knew it.
She approached with graceful precision, each step measured, deliberate.
“Elphie, darling.” she purred.
Elphaba tensed.
Oh, perfect.
Slowly, she lifted her gaze, eyes narrowing.
“You’re up to something,” she said.
Galinda gasped, pressing a hand to her chest. “Why, Elphie, I’m offended!”
Elphaba merely stared.
Galinda pouted, sliding into the seat across from her. “I simply wanted to visit my dearest friend. Is that such a crime?”
Elphaba hummed, unimpressed but on guard.
Galinda leaned forward, resting her chin in her palm. “You do know, don’t you, that you’re rather captivating when you concentrate?”
Elphaba’s fingers twitched. Galinda bit back a grin.
Elphaba exhaled sharply through her nose. “What exactly do you want, Galinda?”
Galinda hummed. “Why must I want something?”
Elphaba gave her a look.
Galinda tilted her head. “Oh, very well. If you must know, I was simply wondering…” She let her voice drop into something soft, something silky. “Why you let her call you that.”
Elphaba blinked.
Galinda watched closely—the way Elphaba’s shoulders went rigid, the way her jaw tensed ever so slightly.
“Now what could you possibly mean?” Elphaba said, voice carefully neutral.
Galinda smiled. “Mariel.” She leaned in, just a fraction. “She called you darling earlier.”
Elphaba’s expression didn’t change. But Galinda knew better and so she pressed further.
“I simply found it… interesting,” she mused, tapping a manicured nail against her cheek. “I wonder, do you let just anyone call you that?”
Elphaba finally set her book down, folding her hands neatly in front of her.
“It’s interesting how you think I have any control over what people say.” She smiled at Galinda and continued. “If I did, don't you think I would have stopped the bullying well before University?”
Galinda huffed, embarrassed she used to be one of those people.
“Well, well,” a far too familiar voice purred.
Galinda froze. Elphaba smirked.
Damn it.
She schooled her expression into something perfectly poised before turning her head—
And there she was.
Mariel.
Her golden curls perfectly in place, her blue eyes practically twinkling as she took a slow step forward.
She was looking at Elphaba.
And worse—Elphaba was looking back.
Mariel’s lips curled into a slow smile. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything... again.”
Galinda resisted the urge to jump up and slap her.
Elphaba, damn her, merely lifted a brow. “That depends.”
Mariel hummed, placing a delicate hand on the back of Elphaba’s chair. “I was hoping I might steal you away for a bit,” she said smoothly.
Galinda’s nails dug into her palm. How dare she!
Elphaba tilted her head, considering.
Mariel leaned in slightly, her voice dropping into something low and honeyed. “I do have that book you were asking about.”
Elphaba’s lips twitched. “How convenient.”
Galinda was finding it harder and harder to control her face. She could not let this happen. Not when she was so close.
“Oh, Elphie,” she drawled, reaching across the table to lay a hand over Elphaba’s.
Elphaba stilled. Galinda bit back a triumphant smirk.
She let her fingers trail ever so slightly over Elphaba’s knuckles. “You must remember, we had plans today.”
Elphaba’s eyes narrowed. “We did not.”
Galinda’s smile was syrupy sweet. “Oh, but we do now.”
Mariel watched the exchange with great interest, amusement flickering across her face.
“How fascinating,” she murmured.
Galinda ignored her, keeping her gaze locked on Elphaba. Elphaba exhaled through her nose, before finally pulling her hand away. She pushed back from the table, gathering her things with infuriating leisure. Then, she looked between the two of them, before finally settling on Galinda.
“Well,” Elphaba said, utterly unbothered, “it seems I have quite the dilemma.”
Mariel smirked. “It does seem that way.”
Galinda clenched her jaw. Elphaba slung her bag over her shoulder, her expression positively smug.
“Decisions, decisions,” she mused.
Galinda saw red.
Because if Elphaba thought for even a second that she was going to choose Mariel over her—
Well.
She had another thing coming.
____
Elphaba was enjoying this.
Galinda could see it in the way her lips twitched, in the glint of amusement in her dark eyes. And Mariel, with her ever-present smirk and far-too-casual posture, was loving it just as much.
It was infuriating.
Galinda was about to up the stakes—perhaps a well-placed touch to Elphaba’s arm, or a whisper just close enough to send a shiver down her spine—when—
“Elphaba!”
The sound of a light and airy voice sent the entire moment crashing down.
Both Galinda and Mariel turned, and there, gliding toward them with perfect posture and an air of expectation, was Nessarose.
Galinda sputtered.
Mariel merely blinked.
Elphaba, the traitor, sighed in relief.
“Nessa,” she greeted, stepping neatly away from the tense stand-off she had so clearly been reveling in. “Right on time.”
Galinda’s mouth snapped shut.
Right on time?
Nessarose barely spared her or Mariel a glance as she reached her sister’s side. “We need to go,” she said, her tone clipped. “I got word that the boats are leaving sooner than expected.”
Elphaba nodded as if this had all been planned. “Then let us depart.”
Galinda huffed.
Elphaba turned back to them, her expression so smug Galinda wanted to shove her.
“Apologies, ladies,” she drawled, “I already have plans with my sister today.”
Galinda gaped, Mariel chuckled, and Elphaba simply grinned , before turning smoothly on her heel and strolling away, Nessarose following at her side.
And just like that she was gone. Leaving Galinda and Mariel standing there like fools.
Silence stretched between them. Mariel was the first to break it.
“Well,” she mused, a smirk playing at her lips, “I certainly wasn’t expecting that.”
Galinda huffed, crossing her arms. “Neither was I.”
Mariel tilted her head, amusement twinkling in her eyes. “I suppose that means we’re both left… wanting.”
Galinda turned sharply, meeting her gaze. Mariel was watching her far too closely, an infuriating knowingness in her expression.
Galinda scoffed, flipping her curls over her shoulder.
“I suppose we are,” she conceded.
Mariel smiled. “A shame, really.”
Galinda gave her a sharp look. “Oh?”
Mariel hummed, stepping just a little closer. “I do wonder,” she mused, “if the real competition here isn’t between us at all.”
Galinda raised a brow. Mariel’s smile widened.
And then, with a graceful turn, she walked away, leaving Galinda standing there—seething, flustered, and utterly determined that this wasn’t over.
Not by a long shot.
The day stretched on, shifting from the bright day into the cool evening, and Galinda found herself pacing their dorm room, unable to settle. She was still irritated, still seething from her earlier encounter with Mariel, and her thoughts were spiraling. There was no way she was going to let that smug little smirk Mariel had given her go unanswered. She was better than this. She was above this. But the frustration gnawed at her, especially now that she was alone in the room with no one to vent to.
A hot shower nor her skincare routine was enough to shake away the feeling gnawing away at her.
Galinda sat on the edge of her bed with a sigh, picking at the hem of her nightgown. Elphaba had been gone for hours. Normally, Galinda might have been content to let her best friend have her space, but now, her irritation bubbled up even more, and she couldn't stop herself from thinking about Elphaba’s outing with Nessarose.
It wasn't just that Elphaba had spent time with her sister—no, it was the fact that Elphaba had been gone for so long. Too long, as if she were avoiding something. Or someone.
The more she thought about it, the more agitated she became. Galinda stood up abruptly, walking to the window, staring out into the darkening sky. She didn’t know what she was expecting. Maybe a sign. Maybe a hint that everything was fine, that Elphaba wasn’t slipping away from her little by little. That she wasn’t driving her straight into Mariel’s arms.
She turned away from the window and threw herself back onto the bed with a huff, letting her head sink into the pillows. Her thoughts were too loud, and her mind couldn’t settle. She was still upset over Mariel, still angry at the way that girl had looked at Elphaba, as if Galinda were just a shadow in their conversations. But that wasn’t the real problem, was it?
The problem was that Elphaba had always been a little too elusive. Always just out of reach, but always by her side nonetheless. And no matter how much Galinda tried to ignore it, she couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe Elphaba didn’t want her as much as Galinda wanted her. That she didn’t need her as much as Galinda did.
The thought made her stomach flip.
The soft creak of the door made Galinda tense but she simply stared at the wall.
Elphaba walked into their room, expecting to see her bubbly roommate fluttering around the room, but instead she was met with the sight of her lying with her back to her, facing the wall. There was something off about the stillness of the room. Galinda didn’t greet her as she normally did, and the tension in the air was immediate.
“Hey,” Elphaba said, her voice quiet but warm, as she set down her bag.
Galinda didn’t respond right away, her voice flat when she finally did. “Hey. How was your outing with Nessa?”
“It was good. It was nice to spend some time together.” Elphaba replied, her tone casual, but the unease in the room didn't escape her. She took a few steps towards Galinda’s bed. “Is everything okay?”
“Of course.” Galinda muttered, still facing the wall, her voice carefully neutral.
Elphaba sighed quietly, her gaze softening. Something was wrong, and she wasn’t going to let it slide. “You’ve yet to look at me, my sweet.”
Galinda’s heart fluttered at the nickname, but she kept her back turned, unwilling to give Elphaba the satisfaction of seeing her unravel. She felt Elphaba’s eyes on her and after a few long moments she finally caved. She slowly rolled over to face her, though her eyes were glued to the blanket rather than meeting Elphaba’s gaze.
“Happy?” Galinda muttered, her voice tinged with something Elphaba couldn’t quite place.
Elphaba couldn’t suppress a small hum, her tone warm and teasing. “I’m always happy to see you.”
Galinda let out a breath that could’ve been mistaken for a laugh, but there was no humor in it. “Could’ve fooled me.”
“And what is that supposed to mean?” Elphaba asked, her brow furrowing as she moved closer, trying to gauge the real issue.
Galinda pushed herself up from the bed, standing tall and crossing her arms tightly over her chest.
“Maybe the fact that for weeks, every time I see you, you’re with her. With Mariel. And I’m the one constantly left searching for you.” Her voice trembled despite her best efforts to stay steady.
Elphaba blinked, taken aback at the declaration. Her frown deepened. “Mariel?” she repeated, her voice softer now, more curious than defensive. “You’re upset over Mariel?”
Galinda’s arms uncrossed, hands clenched into fists at her sides. “You seem so comfortable with her. And I... I don’t know, Elphie. I can’t help but wonder if you’re more interested in her than you let on.”
Elphaba’s eyes widened slightly. The air between them felt heavier now. Her mind raced, but instead of an immediate rebuttal, she stepped closer, trying to bridge the distance without overwhelming Galinda.
“Galinda, I didn’t mean to upset you,” Elphaba said, her voice low and sincere. “Mariel... she’s just someone I talked to. I’m not trying to replace you. You’re my best friend. You know that.”
Galinda’s heart clenched at those words, but the resentment still simmered beneath the surface, threatening to spill out. “Well, maybe I don’t want to just be your best friend,” she blurted, before she could stop herself.
The room went still. Elphaba froze, her face going blank as she processed the words. A moment stretched between them, taut and fragile.
“What did you just say?” Elphaba whispered, her voice a mix of confusion and something more vulnerable.
Galinda’s breath hitched, the weight of what she had said crashing down on her. “Nothing,” she stammered, her face flushing with embarrassment. She quickly turned away, yanking the comforter off the bed as though it could shield her from everything.
“Wait,” Elphaba called out, her voice urgent. She reached out instinctively, grabbing Galinda’s wrist, her touch gentle but firm, grounding.
Galinda froze, her breath catching in her throat, but she still refused to turn back to face her. The two stood there, the silence between them thick and suffocating.
“What did you mean by that?” Elphaba asked softly, her voice almost pleading now, though it barely rose above a whisper.
Galinda’s heart thudded painfully in her chest. She sharply pulled her wrist out of Elphaba’s grasp, avoiding her gaze. “Nothing. Just forget it.” Her voice cracked as she climbed into bed, pulling the blanket tightly around herself. “Goodnight.”
“Galinda, please…” she heard Elphaba’s voice again, but it was distant now, almost like a muffled plea that didn’t quite reach her.
Galinda curled into herself, squeezing her eyes shut. “Goodnight, Elphaba.” she said, the words sharp and final.
Elphaba flinched at the coolness in her voice. She wanted to stay, wanted to reach out and pull Galinda into her arms, force her to talk. But something in her—some fragile thread of understanding—stopped her. She stepped back, her heart heavy with guilt and confusion.
“Goodnight, my sweet,” Elphaba whispered, barely audible, the last words hanging in the air like an unspoken promise.
The room settled into an unbearable silence, the space between them more vast than it had ever been.