Chapter 6
Galinda barely registered her own footsteps as she hurried across campus, her heart pounding in a way she refused to examine too closely.
It didn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter.
She had no reason to feel like this, no reason for the awful twisting in her stomach, or the heat burning behind her eyes.
Elphaba could say yes. She could go to dinner with Mariel, and it would be fine.
Galinda would be fine.
Except she wasn’t.
The moment she felt far enough away, she slowed, her breath coming fast and uneven as she reached for the nearest bench and sat down, pressing her hands into her lap to stop them from shaking.
Why had she run?
She should have stayed. Should have laughed and teased and played the game the way she always did. But the second those words had left Mariel’s mouth, something inside her had snapped—
And she’d bolted.
Cowardly. Pathetic.
She hated it.
She hated this.
Galinda squeezed her eyes shut, inhaling sharply. She just needed a moment. A moment to push all of this down, to fix the mask that had slipped so terribly out of place.
“Elphaba doesn’t belong to you,” she muttered under her breath.
It was the truth. A simple, irrefutable fact.
But oh, how she hated the way it felt.
A sudden gust of wind tugged at her curls, and she exhaled slowly, tilting her head up toward the sky. The morning sun was warm on her skin, the fresh air crisp and cool, and if she focused on that—on anything but the image of Mariel standing there, smiling, asking—
She could almost convince herself this wasn’t completely unraveling her.
Almost.
Galinda sat still for a long moment, trying to collect herself. She smoothed out the fabric of her skirt, focused on the sun’s warmth against her skin, and took another slow breath. She needed to compose herself before she returned to her day—before she saw Elphaba again.
Elphaba.
Had she said yes?
Galinda squeezed her hands together in her lap. She had no right to care. She shouldn’t care. And yet, the thought of Elphaba and Mariel together—of Mariel sitting across from her at some dimly lit table, leaning in close, making her laugh—
She swallowed hard.
The mere thought of it made something ugly twist inside her, sharp and unbearable.
A shadow was suddenly cast over her and she glanced up.
“Fiyero.” She greeted, as casually as she could muster.
Shoving his hands into his pockets he stared down at his blonde counterpart. “You know, running away mid-conversation is generally considered bad etiquette.”
Galinda huffed. “Go away.”
He tsked, lowering himself onto the bench beside her. “And here I thought we were friends.”
She shot him a glare and he couldn’t help but grin at her.
Galinda huffed, turning her face away. “If you must know, I simply had somewhere to be.”
“Right. Somewhere very urgent, apparently.” He draped an arm over the back of the bench. “Now tell me, what exactly was that little display back there?”
“It was nothing.”
Fiyero smirked. “Really? Because I think someone was looking a little flustered.”
“I was not—!” She cut herself off, inhaling sharply. After a moment, she shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”
Fiyero studied her for a moment, then tilted his head. “You didn’t even stay to hear her answer.”
Galinda stilled.
His smirk widened. “That’s what this is really about, isn’t it?”
She clenched her hands together, her jaw tight. “Why are you even here?”
“Because,” he said, voice light, “I happen to find this whole thing very entertaining.”
She scoffed. “You’re insufferable.”
“So I’ve been told.”
Galinda let out a sharp exhale, then abruptly stood, smoothing her skirts with quick, precise motions. “I have better things to do than waste my time with you.”
Fiyero leaned back, watching her with amusement. “You sure you don’t want to go back and ask her yourself?”
Galinda hesitated—just for a fraction of a second—before lifting her chin. “I don’t care what she said.”
Fiyero only grinned. “Of course not.”
She turned sharply and strode away, her steps quick and purposeful. Fiyero simply watched her depart and chuckled to himself.
Galinda barely registered where her feet were taking her. Her heart was still hammering, her thoughts racing. She didn’t care what Elphaba had said. She didn’t. It wasn’t like it meant anything. It wasn’t like—
She exhaled sharply, forcing herself to steady her breath. No, this was ridiculous. She just needed to regain her composure.
The gardens. Yes, the gardens would do.
With that decision made, she turned onto the familiar path, the well-kept hedges and blooming flowers offering the solace she craved. It was quiet here, aside from the faint rustle of leaves and distant chatter from passing students.
She sank onto a stone bench, pressing her hands into her lap, inhaling deeply. Calm. Poised. Perfect.
But no matter how hard she tried to force her mind elsewhere, it kept creeping back. The way Mariel had leaned in, the way Elphaba had tilted her head in that unreadable way of hers. That simple question had turned her entire morning from sweet to sour.
She clenched her fists.
Fiyero had been right once again. That’s what stung the most.
Because deep down, no matter how much she denied it, she did care what Elphaba had said. She cared that someone else was braver than her. That someone else had the courage to ask Elphaba what she never could.
Galinda did something she had never done before. Something she would have been scolded for in her youth.
She told herself it wasn’t really skipping—more of a… mental reprieve. And besides, she was an excellent student. A day off wouldn’t hurt.
She just couldn’t bear the idea of sitting through lectures beside her, pretending to listen while her mind was stuck elsewhere. Stuck on her.
So she remained in the gardens, letting the hours slip by unnoticed.
It was peaceful, at least. Or it would have been, if not for the storm raging in her chest.
The longer she sat there, the more the memory of the dining hall twisted in her mind. Had Elphaba looked pleased when Mariel had asked her? Had she hesitated before answering? Had she—
Galinda groaned, burying her face in her hands. She was acting ridiculous. She knew she was. And yet, no matter how many times she told herself to let it go, she couldn’t.
Because the truth was, she hadn’t stayed to hear Elphaba’s answer… because she hadn’t wanted to hear it.
What if she had said yes?
What if Galinda had stood there, foolish and frozen, while Elphaba agreed to go off with Mariel, letting her steal more of her time, her attention, her—
Galinda clenched her teeth.
The thought alone made her stomach churn.
But what if… what if she had said no?
She inhaled sharply. That should have been relieving, shouldn’t it? So why did the idea feel just as unbearable?
Because either way, Galinda would have had to face it. Face her. Face the growing, terrifying realization she had been avoiding for far too long.
And she wasn’t ready.
She wasn’t sure she ever would be.
So instead of returning to class, instead of seeking out answers she wasn’t prepared to hear, she remained exactly where she was.
Sitting in the gardens, alone with her thoughts.
And as much as she hated to admit it, she knew—deep down—she was just waiting.
Waiting for Elphaba to come find her.
The sun had dipped lower in the sky by the time Galinda heard footsteps approaching. She knew who it was before she even looked up.
Elphaba always had a certain presence—even in silence, even in stillness.
Galinda steeled herself, schooling her expression into something impassive as she traced idle patterns into the fabric of her skirt. She would not be caught looking desperate.
A shadow fell over her.
“There you are.”
Elphaba’s voice was steady, but something about it made Galinda’s stomach twist.
She hummed in response, not bothering to meet her eyes. “Yes, well. It’s a lovely day, wouldn’t you agree?”
Elphaba didn’t immediately reply. Instead, Galinda could feel her gaze lingering, sharp and thoughtful.
“You skipped class.”
Galinda hummed. “I hardly think one day of missed lectures will be my undoing.”
Elphaba exhaled through her nose, then—without invitation—lowered herself onto the bench beside Galinda.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then—
“You left.”
Galinda’s fingers twitched in her lap. She forced a light laugh. “Whatever are you talking about?”
“In the dining hall.” Elphaba’s tone was steady. “You left.”
Galinda kept her gaze fixed ahead, her jaw tight.
It had been easier when Elphaba wasn’t here. When she was just a distant figure in Galinda’s mind, something she could push aside with sheer force of will.
But now she was sitting beside her, solid and real, and suddenly Galinda felt like she couldn’t breathe.
“Elphie,” she sighed, waving a dismissive hand, “must we really discuss this?”
Elphaba didn’t reply right away.
Then—
“She asked me out.”
Galinda’s grip tightened on the fabric of her skirt. It made her sick to hear those words.
She kept her voice light. “Yes, I heard.”
Elphaba scanned the side of her face intensely.
“I’ve never been asked out before.”
Galinda’s stomach flipped.
“Oh, well I’m truly happy for you, have fun.” She said in the most neutral tone she could muster.
She felt her heart breaking as they sat there in uncomfortable silence. Galinda was fighting every urge to get up and flee, but she’d be damned if she cried in front of Elphaba.
“I said no.”
Galinda exhaled.
Slowly, carefully, she turned to face Elphaba.
Their eyes met.
And suddenly, she hated how easily Elphaba unraveled her.
How, even now, even when Galinda had spent all day trying to push this feeling away, it still surged back to the surface the moment she looked at her.
She swallowed.
“Well.” She forced her voice steady. “Mariel will be simply devastated.”
Elphaba huffed a quiet laugh. “I’m sure she’ll recover.”
Galinda tilted her head, studying her. “Why did you say no?”
Elphaba blinked, caught off guard. “What?”
“You heard me.” Galinda’s voice was softer now, her usual teasing lilt absent. “Why did you say no?”
Elphaba went quiet.
Galinda could see the way she tensed, the way she suddenly seemed to be considering her words very, very carefully.
And for the first time all day, it wasn’t Galinda’s heart that was racing.
It was Elphaba’s.
Elphaba exhaled sharply through her nose and looked away.
"Does it matter?" she asked.
Galinda frowned. "Obviously it matters."
Elphaba was quiet again.
She wasn’t usually hesitant—not like this. Even when she was uncomfortable, even when she was deflecting, Elphaba always had a sharp remark at the ready. A pointed rebuttal.
But now, she just sat there, fingers curling slightly against the edge of the bench, like she was holding something back.
And Galinda didn’t like that.
“Elphie.” She softened her voice, tilting her head. “Tell me.”
Elphaba let out a slow breath, her gaze still fixed somewhere in the distance.
Then, finally—
“She wasn’t the person I was waiting to hear it from.”
Galinda blinked.
Her lips parted slightly, but no sound came out.
She wasn't the person Elphaba was waiting to hear it from.
Which meant—
Oh.
Galinda’s pulse roared in her ears and her heart raced.
Elphaba had been waiting.
Waiting for someone else to ask.
And Elphaba wasn’t looking at her now—not out of avoidance, not out of dismissal—but because if she did, if their eyes met, she’d give herself away entirely.
Galinda had spent so much time thinking she was foolish. Convincing herself she was just being dramatic, that her feelings were one-sided, that her reaction was unwarranted.
But now, she wasn’t sure if any of that was true.
She swallowed.
“Elphie,” she murmured, “who were you waiting for?”
Elphaba finally turned to look at her.
And that was the moment Galinda knew—knew—because Elphaba’s eyes said everything.
She didn’t need to say it.
But Galinda had her answer.
____
The world had shrunk.
It was just the two of them now, suspended in the quiet garden, in the space between breaths.
Elphaba wasn’t looking away anymore. And Galinda couldn’t have looked away if she tried.
Her heart pounded so loudly she was sure Elphaba could hear it.
She should say something.
She should do something.
But all she could do was sit there, caught in the pull of something deeper than words.
Elphaba’s gaze flickered, searching hers—careful, questioning.
She was waiting. Not moving closer. Not pulling away. Just waiting.
Waiting for Galinda to understand.
Waiting for Galinda to choose.
Galinda’s fingers twitched against her skirts and her throat felt impossibly tight.
And then, before she could overthink it—before fear, or doubt, or anything else could stop her—she moved.
It was slow.
Tentative.
She reached out, hesitating just before her fingers brushed Elphaba’s. Giving her a chance to pull away. Giving her a chance to stop this before—
But Elphaba didn’t move.
Didn’t pull back.
Didn’t stop her.
Galinda’s fingers finally settled lightly against the back of Elphaba’s hand, and she swore she felt a shiver run through her.
Elphaba’s breath hitched. Galinda’s own was barely steady. And still—neither of them pulled away.
Instead, she shifted forward, just slightly, just enough that she could see every little detail of Elphaba’s expression—the slight parting of her lips, the flicker of something unbearably tender in her dark eyes, the way her throat bobbed when she swallowed.
Galinda’s fingers tightened against hers. And slowly, so slowly—she leaned in.
There was a heartbeat of hesitation, the last moment between what was and what couldbe—
And then her lips pressed softly against Elphaba’s.
It was barely a kiss at all.
A whisper of a touch.
A quiet declaration of want and understanding.
She felt Elphaba inhale sharply, felt the way her fingers twitched under hers.
For a single, unbearable second, she thought maybe—maybe—Elphaba wouldn’t respond at all.
And then—
Elphaba exhaled, and the tension melted from her frame.
Her free hand rose, just barely ghosting along Galinda’s arm, tentative and unsure, like she wasn’t entirely convinced this was real. That this was nothing more than her own imagination playing tricks on her.
Galinda pressed in just a fraction more, her fingers tightening slightly around Elphaba’s.
And for the first time in what felt like forever—
Everything felt right.
Elphaba sighed into the kiss, her hand tightening ever so slightly around Galinda’s. For a moment, it was all soft warmth and quiet exhilaration, the world beyond them forgotten.
And then—
A breath. A shift.
They broke apart.
It wasn’t abrupt, wasn’t rushed. Just a slow, gentle parting, like neither of them really wanted to but had to pause, had to breathe.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
And then—
A giggle.
Galinda wasn’t even sure who started it—her or Elphaba—but suddenly, they were both laughing, giddy and breathless, as if the sheer absurdity of the moment had finally caught up to them.
Galinda dropped her forehead against Elphaba’s shoulder, shaking with quiet laughter, while Elphaba covered her mouth with her free hand, her eyes alight with something she so rarely allowed herself to feel—joy.
“Oh,” Galinda murmured, lifting her head to smile, a wide and delighted smile. “I like you like this.”
Elphaba huffed, still a little breathless. “Like what?”
Galinda didn’t answer. Instead she let herself take in the sight of Elphaba’s expression—the softened eyes, the ever-so-slight quirk of her lips, the warmth that hadn’t quite faded from her cheeks.
It was adorable.
And it made something reckless spark in her chest.
Still grinning, she leaned back in.
Elphaba’s breath hitched, and for a split second. She thought she was going in for another kiss.Her eyes fluttered just slightly, her lips parting in anticipation, but at the last second, Galinda tilted her head. Instead her lips brushed against the shell of Elphaba’s ear instead.
Elphaba stiffened.
Galinda felt her breath catch.
And then, with all the smug delight in the world, she whispered,
“You’re blushing.”
Elphaba jerked back instantly, eyes wide, mouth parting in immediate denial.
“I am not—”
But Galinda was already laughing, tilting her head with a knowing look.
“Elphie, darling,” she purred, tapping a finger against her chin. “Are you sure about that?”
Elphaba clamped her mouth shut, scowling—except it wasn’t really a scowl. It was too flustered, too endearing to be anything remotely intimidating.
She crossed her arms, looking away with a huff. “You’re insufferable.”
“And yet,” Galinda hummed, very pleased with herself, “you insist on keeping my company.”
Elphaba rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched—just barely—like she was fighting a smile.
Galinda leaned back, positively glowing with satisfaction.
Because while their game may have finally come to an end, this was only the beginning of something grand.