from your changing contentments (what will you choose for to share?)
The room they put Elphaba in was small and presently unintended for habitation. Although it had thus far evaded the renovations the rest of the building was forced to endure, there were still some drop cloths folded up in the corner and a rather comical toolbox one couldn't avoid hitting when opening the door to enter. In another home, this room may have been the most audacious. By comparison to its current neighbors, it was reserved in its classical design. Dark wood molding framed cream walls littered with rough patches, indicating a paint job in the near future. What limited furniture could be found was economically placed throughout the room with careful consideration of space. Anything that was capable of holding human weight looked like they must come with the associated creaks and groans of ample use. The only feature that made it clear that it was intended to house this or that lesser loved cousin and not a servant was the appealing structure of a bay window, with luscious cushions and small bookshelves recessed into the wall on either side. The architectural effect showed the taste of the original builders, simple yet deceptively rich and not without moments of unfolding beauty. Galinda felt sorry for the poor walls and whatever cruel fate awaited them. Better to be exactly as one is, cracks and all, than to play dress up and pretend to be what one is not.
Elphaba fit in perfectly, both in general sensibility of the space and specific aesthetic. If her clever fingers weren't working on buttoning up a coat as she stood near the center of the room, Galinda could almost picture her lounging amongst the pillows, enjoying the light coming in through the window.
“Oh. Hello, Miss Galinda.”
“Good afternoon.”
The basic greeting was all Galinda could provide before digging into the core of her greater discomfort.
“Tell me you weren't going to leave without taking the chance to explain yourself.”
“Explain myself? That would take more time than you'd appreciate,” Elphaba scoffed. “I think you’d do better instead to track down Pfannee and ask her why fraud felt en vogue for the summer season.”
In that moment, Galinda tried to marshal all her mental efforts towards forcing her lips to expel an apology. To assure Elphaba that she knew she should have chosen her words with greater care, and that she would do so in the future. Instead, all that spilled out was more rough-edged dreck.
“Please, I'd rather sew stones into my pockets before taking a lakebed stroll than allow that little nobody to speak another word in my presence. Hand over the letter, I'm sure it'll do enough talking in her absence.”
Galinda winced internally. Even if she hadn't mustered up a coherent acknowledgement of Elphaba's suffering, she'd at least made clear who her ire was really pointed at. Hopefully.
She expected Elphaba to have to dig around a little in her travel bag. To her surprise, Elphaba needed only to lean over to her bedside table and pull the letter from its cool wooden surface. It was wrinkled, half hanging out of its original envelope, like someone had reread it one of too many times and tried to shove it away to clumsily avoid the temptation of giving it a hundredth once over.
As she read it for the first time, Galinda's initial reaction was satisfaction at the fact that Pfannee hadn't fully captured her gift for written patter. Still, there was an element of attention-seeking that felt uncomfortably close to her own unsent drafts. Two lines in particular made her pulse jump so rapidly her hands curled reflexively around the page.
“I do hope you can come! I do very specially hope so for reasons I dare not write.”
Just like the day before, with the almost knowing look sent her way, Galinda felt the crushing shame of outside observation. Pfannee had signed off with “Ever your loving friend.”
More important to the success of her trick, the mean-spirited girl had included a line begging off a response; per the false Galinda in the letter, Elphaba needed only to arrive without any word sent ahead.
“Haven’t you any sense of self-preservation? Why in the world would I have told you not to write me back?”
Elphaba tilted her chin up, almost mimicking the haughty women in the many austere portraits lining the walls of the summer house. Galinda often found it easy to forget the aristocratic blood running through her veins. Her mother, of rarer stock than her father, had always impressed upon Galinda the necessity for her to seek a husband above her station. It occurred to Galinda that she and Elphaba held that dynamic of matrilineal superiority in common. Another similarity that served to make the back of her neck itch and to wonder, on occasion, what pressures Elphaba must have felt in childhood concerning the matter. Out in the Quadling Wastelands with a traveling preacher who seemed to have thoroughly spread his vow of poverty to his eldest daughter, it probably hadn't mattered what any potential suitor thought of the world outside of having an unwavering faith to the Unnamed God and a healthy penchant for living in the dirt.
What did Elphie think about marriage anyway?
Not that Galinda could ever ask directly. Or had even been bold enough to send a letter asking anything like that indirectly.
“There's a chosen shyness about you. Even at your most ridiculous, I’ve learned to take you at your word. Obfuscated as it may be,” said Elphaba.
A shrug sent her dark hair rippling down her back.
“I suppose I trusted you,” Elphaba said. She was quiet when she spoke, but she said it simply without anything to hide.
How unlike Galinda. True to Elphaba’s assessment, the blonde never had figured out how to consider her roommate head-on, preferring to hold the green girl in her mind's eye at a constant angle to avoid any damning emotional discoveries. For once, charged with the same lonely energy that had made her start writing her own letters in the first place, Galinda felt the need to dispense with such cryptic modes of analysis and communication.
“Then take me at it again. Stay.”
It all came out in an impulsive rush, direct as anything Elphaba had ever said to her.
“I’ll leave my room for meals, then come straight to you. I don't want to talk to any of them either.”
Elphaba's eyes communicated most of her lingering distrust, while the puzzled tilt of her head said the rest.
You’d rather stay here, holed up in a cupboard with me, than head back home to salvage what was left of our limited vacation days?
Galinda hoped her face was equally as expressive with a far simpler message.
Yes.
Elphaba’s hands stilled where they had been running along her coat buttons. Her face twisted into that now familiar pained expression, as if the silent exchange had unlocked a new wave of vulnerability. She was uncertain, of course, she was uncertain.
“The others weren't laughing along yesterday. Pfannee’s joke played for an audience of one,” Galinda said gently. Elphaba sighed in response. The tense silence held a second longer before she found it in herself to fully reply.
“They merely tolerate me. My inheritance and their genteel dispositions offer me a shield, but it only goes so far. They were embarrassed to see someone act tastelessly, but they were not sincerely wounded by the display.”
Elphaba's head shook slightly from side to side as she spoke. In a true return to form, her eyes locked onto Galinda’s own in an unwavering stare.
“And if they are ashamed now, it is because it would be impolite not to be. That is the very extent of their sympathies.”
“I doubt very much that there's anything sincere about the lot of them,” Galinda said.
Elphaba puffed out a laugh, deflating from her straight-backed rigidity to a more neutral pointy lean. Galinda smiled slightly, but didn’t dare share her own laughter to avoid breaking the delicate branch she’d extended.
“Fine. I'm sure we can save on the fare back if we split it between an even greater number of us.”
“Well said.”
After some more assurances that Ama Clutch would be able to communicate with staff to provide Elphaba with ample sustenance throughout the day, little else to discuss remained. Relief fully came in as Galinda watched Elphaba take off her coat and fold it over the bed frame. She was perusing the books in the case by the window as Galinda prepared to make her exit. The panic Galinda felt at the chance that she might return to find Elphaba cold and disagreeable or worse, the window smashed open and room empty, outweighed her humiliation over requiring further affirmation.
“It's alright? If I come back after lunch?”
Galinda held her breath, thumb rubbing out a pattern on the smooth ridges of the door frame as she waited for Elphaba to turn her way. Elphaba’s smile was crooked, genuine, and full from the very second it came into view.
“Perfectly.”
In no time at all, the pair had recreated the conditions of their dorm room not only precisely, but also with greater exclusionary extremity. The only point of consistent separation they endured was during meals, which Galinda reluctantly spent with the others and Elphaba enjoyed in the privacy of her room. They drifted in and out of conversation endlessly, spending the lulls lost in their own devices as they waited for a fresh topic of conversation to spring to mind. Or one of them huffed off in comical frustration out of sheer impatience. Elphaba often found herself performing the role of the former as she idly flipped through the pages of a book, Galinda the latter. She had grown quite fond of strolls in the garden. In these brief interludes of solemnity, she went back to busy considerations that swarmed about her head.
Talking with Elphaba had a strange effect on her. She simultaneously thought more in a single conversation with the green girl and was less aware of her own cognition. She could simply be and think freely without having to monitor every reaction or statement. When they were apart, she was forced to either consider the odd feelings that would stir about her chest when they were together or to think about new ways she could try and get under Elphaba’s skin to potentially provoke a similar stirring response.
She was on her way to Elphaba’s room after breakfast one morning, smiling to herself as she wondered where their heated debates would take them this afternoon. Throughout all political conversations concerning Animal rights, Galinda had noticed Elphaba had a habit of bringing up her theory of a universal thread tying all living things together in a kind of system. Despite Elphie’s atheistic insistence, the argument always struck Galinda as a touch Unionist. She had been trying to save this observation for a real blow-out argument, but it became harder and harder to keep it contained with each passing day.
All thoughts left her in a shrill squeak as she took the final turn to Elphie’s room and saw Boq making his way towards her. It took everything within her not to cry out an amended version of Shenshen’s call from the first day of the intruders’ arrival — A man!
“Don't tell me we've had boys traipsing the halls at Lurline knows what hours? Even this hour? Shouldn't you have rooms at the inn?”
Galinda clutched her chest to properly express her shock, recoiling without taking a full step back.
“We do.”
Boq didn’t have enough earnest shame to hide his amusement.
“Then how on earth did you get here?”
“I walked, Miss Galinda,” said Boq, his features taking on even more of a fond glow before straightening out and sobering.
“I've been visiting her every morning. I was the one, you see, who convinced her to come. I've felt rather terrible, just awful, about how this all has played out. I was hoping we could all become closer.”
His suggestion paired with a physical lean forward, which Galinda only found mildly uncomfortable. His concern for Elphaba was genuine, even though it was too muddled up in his growing affection for Galinda. It was all still manageable and harmlessly sweet.
“Well, that's not entirely true. I also wanted to see you. Again, that is,” said Boq.
All reserved appreciation for him vanished in an instant. There was real hope in his eyes, a kind of shy but gentle confidence. Damn that Munchkin conscience that stopped him just short of keeping his mouth firmly shut.
Galinda felt a pit form in her stomach. Although she was loath to admit it, Boq was fun and charming in his own way. But she couldn't bring herself to feel the usual sense of excitement at him chasing harmlessly behind her. He had been visiting Elphaba that often, and that early? Truly?
“I'm surprised I haven't run into you,” said Galinda.
“I’m rather surprised as well. But I suppose this explains the mystery of where you've been every time I've come knocking at your door.”
The pit grew larger.
“I thought you would much rather stay in a room of your own, steamed at the lot of us,” said Boq, “Devotion is an admirable quality to have in a friend.”
“Which is what I see her as!”
Boq’s speech was rushed. His earlier lean gave way to a hasty step forward, hand slightly outstretched.
“Of course. A dear friend,” Galinda said, and tried not to sound too choked.
“See, we understand each other! I wouldn't want you to think I feel the same way about her as I do about —”
Boq ran a hand through his wild curls. Galinda took the opportunity of his broken eye contact as his eyes ran over the carpet to make her exit.
“Listen, Boq. This little scheduling quirk, or mishap if you will, has been quite entertaining to sort through, but I'd really better be on my way. I wouldn't want to miss my appointed time.”
“Of course! I’ll be seeing you at lunch, then?”
Galinda bit back at her frustration over the redundancy of the question. The boys at the inn missed breakfast but always came back into the swing of things for lunch and dinner. Avaric teased that they wanted to give the girls enough time to perfect their looks for the day. She gave Boq an affirmative hum as she skirted past him towards Elphaba’s door.
“What if you can't prove it?”
For all of Galinda's anxiety about her unexpected run-in with Boq, any inclination for bringing up the issue quickly had been squashed by the fact that Elphaba had apparently risen for the day, prepared for her own debate on Animal rights. Well, that's not exactly true.
Galinda had swung the door open and, after being greeted by the usual rattling hammer and nails, came upon Elphaba already curled comfortably around a book, all pointy elbows and attentively bent neck. Her black hair shifted slightly over the top of the cover as she murmured a greeting towards the door. Ever the coward, Galinda had waited too long thinking over the best way to bring up her encounter with Boq without sounding completely childish and unreasonable, so Elphaba was the first one to choose a topic of real conversation. It was inevitable, then, that they got even deeper in on all the progress Dr. Dillamond had made with his clever grouping of unexpected assistants into the true nature of Animal existence.
Galinda had found herself too hesitant to puncture the newfound intimacy she found when Elphaba let her in on the leaps and bounds in scientific inquiry Dr. Dillamond had made through the first wave of summer with his clever grouping of unexpected assistants. It felt unwise to bring up Boq, as if it might call attention to other recent hurts.
Elphaba squared her jaw, ready to jump into the verbal fray. She’d kept her book open this entire time, and her knuckles practically shook as they tightened around the binding, their green color contrasting with the brown leather. Galinda raised her hand.
“Close that evil eye, please! I'm not throwing myself in with the opposition. And I'm also not saying you aren't right in the end, but I feel I must ask what would happen if we presently lack the right tools or procedures to prove it? What if the means of scientifically proving an innate biological difference between Animals and animals remains elusive?”
“Well. First, I'd say our so-called opposition doesn't care if we are right or not; they don't want us to even be capable of asking questions in the first place. That is, they are trying to stop the conversation before it even begins. Which doesn't bode well for their perception of democratic process generally.”
The book bobbed up and down with how animatedly Elphaba was as she spoke, sending Galinda a knowing look over the sea of bouncing pages.
“And if I can move beyond scientific reasoning and continue in the realm of instincts and hunches, if they are that afraid of us even trying to investigate, it follows that they are scared. If they're scared, we’re on to something, surely.”
How wonderful to be a part of a “we” with Elphaba. It was simply unfortunate that they weren't left alone in it. She felt a pang, deep beneath her breastbone. What would have happened if she'd refused the double edged invitation to come here, if she'd begged her parents to find the money for her to board for the summer at Shiz instead of being dragged into this Caprice-in-the-Pines mess? It appeared she had missed a great deal of bonding with the others, and the opportunity to see Elphaba's continued growth up close and personal. Crope, Tibbett, and more concerningly, a certain Munchkinlander had all gotten the jump on entering into an intimate bond of trust that Galinda herself had only just started to enjoy.
“You've grown closer, then?”
“What, to figuring out more of the world's scientific mysteries?” asked Elphaba.
“No, silly, to Boq.” Galinda tried to casually play it off by picking at some pilling on the armrest of her chair. Nevertheless, Elphaba’s eyes narrowed.
“I suppose he's proved to be a surprisingly accurate research partner, all things considered. Why?”
“I ran into him this morning. In the hallway.”
“A likely story, Boq and a hallway. Given the early hour, we wouldn’t have wanted him out wandering the hills.”
“Not a hallway, the hallway. The one leading to your door, in fact.”
That was enough for Elphaba to finally shut her book.
“Yes. He visits.”
Trust Elphaba to be so suddenly straightforward.
“Every morning, I hear.”
“Jealous one of your many suitors might have peeled off?”
“I wouldn't say he's much of mine if he's going to your door,” said Galinda. There was a sharpness in her reply she couldn’t quite mask. Gone was the plucking at damaged fabric or any facade of disaffection. Elphaba tapped her fingers along the cover of the book now lying flat across her lap.
“I don't care for Boq, not in that way,” said Elphaba. Her eyes flicked up to Galinda before going back down to where one of her fingers had started tracing the embossed title.
Galinda hummed noncommittally.
“Besides, it would be quite embarrassing for all involved if he suddenly started running around after my heels.”
She raised her dress slightly to wiggle her green ankles. Galinda's earlier show of transparent jealousy and a squirming feeling deep in her stomach stopped her from scolding Elphaba for being so effacing.
“It's good that you have friends. I wasn't trying to suggest otherwise,” Galinda said, rather proud of herself for avoiding looking too desperate for outside affection without coming off too cold. She was repaid for her tactical efforts with another round of narrowing of green eyes and a corresponding upward twitch of the lips.
“Galinda, are you trying to say you missed me?”
“Oz, now I feel as though I've walked into a trap. How unbecoming! I don't think I should answer lest I fall in.”
The blush that set in around Galinda's pale cheeks was so thorough she might well have blended in with the fixtures if they were in her room. As things stood, in this normal room with its average cream colored walls, Galinda and her blonde head held the strange physical impression of a bushel of wheat on fire from the roots up.
“A fine decision, considering what I've heard about the dangers Pfanee has personally installed throughout the place.”
Elphaba's overly serious conspiratorial tone gave way to giggles and Galinda was shocked by how easily she joined in. Elphaba could have used the opportunity to be cruel to her in some way, but she let the moment pass unanswered. A secret discovered but allowed the dignity to remain undiscussed, giving Galinda the gentlest escape route Elphaba's usually sharp tongue could provide. So much forgiveness, in a shared laugh.
The instinct to soothe had seemingly evolved in both of them. Provocation existed now only to tease, and was done away with quickly for the opportunity to care for each other in its aftermath. The light shifted through the window, beckoning in the day, while Galinda marveled at what a remarkable thing it was to find care in someone else's hands.