Chapter 24
Elphaba focused on the road. Eyes straight ahead. Hands gripping the wheel. Act normal.
Glinda, however, was the exact opposite.
She was beaming.
“That was the best sleepover I’ve ever had.”
Elphaba exhaled sharply. "I don’t even remember half of it."
Glinda laughed. "Oh, I do. And I loved every second."
Elphaba glanced at her, suspicious. "You’re messing with me."
"I’m really not." Glinda leaned back in her seat, still grinning. "We should do it again."
Elphaba blinked. "Another sleepover?"
"Mhm." Glinda tilted her head, watching her. "Unless... you don’t want to?"
Elphaba could feel her heartbeat in her throat.
She looked back at the road. Grip tightening on the wheel.
"I... didn't say that."
Glinda’s smile softened. “Good.”
A pause. Then, teasingly—but with something quieter beneath it:
"Do you remember what you called me?"
Elphaba nearly swerved off the road.
"Oh my—STOP."
Glinda laughed, delighted.
Elphaba groaned, knuckles tightening around the wheel. "I was drunk."
Glinda smirked. "Oh, I know. But I think you meant it."
Elphaba shot her a look. "I think you're enjoying this way too much."
Glinda shrugged, feigning innocence. "Maybe. But it was cute. You were cute."
Elphaba inhaled sharply, turning her gaze back to the road. She refused to acknowledge the warmth creeping up her neck.
"Don't worry," Glinda added, her voice softer now, less teasing, more something else. "I liked it."
Elphaba hesitated, her grip on the wheel loosening just slightly.
And then Glinda reached across the center console, fingers brushing lightly against Elphaba’s wrist before settling over her hand.
Elphaba’s breath hitched. Her fingers twitched under Glinda’s touch, but she didn’t pull away.
Glinda’s thumb swept gently over her knuckles, warm and reassuring. Not teasing now. Just soft.
Elphaba swallowed. “You’re the worst.”
Glinda just smiled. “You don’t actually think that.”
Elphaba didn’t argue.
Glinda trailed behind Pfannee, Shenshen, and Milla as they walked through the mall, bags in hand, voices high and sharp.
She wasn’t in the mood for this.
She didn’t want to fake a laugh or pretend to care about the latest gossip. And she definitely didn’t want to hear about—
“Did you see Elphaba at her last track
meet?” Shenshen snickered, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “She looked ridiculous.”
Milla groaned dramatically. “Like, why even try? It’s not like anyone cares.”
Pfannee smirked. “You think she even realizes how embarrassing she is? She’s such a loser.”
Glinda’s stomach twisted.
This wasn’t new. She had heard it a million times before. But for some reason, it felt different now.
Maybe because, just a few hours ago, Elphaba had been holding her.
Maybe because, for the first time, it actually made her mad.
But she didn’t say anything.
She just laughed—forced, hollow. It didn’t even sound right to her own ears. She could feel it, the way it didn’t quite land, the way it felt like wearing someone else’s skin. It used to be effortless, agreeing, blending in. But now, the words clung to her like something sour, something wrong.
For the first time, she felt embarrassed. Not of Elphaba, but of this. Of them. Of herself.
And hated herself for it.
Pfannee grinned. “There’s our girl. I was starting to think you went soft on us.”
“Oh, and did you see Fiyero hanging around them more lately?” Pfannee scoffed. “Honestly, I don’t know why he’s wasting his time.”
Shenshen smirked. “Maybe he likes being around freaks. I mean, he did date Glinda. Maybe it’s a pattern.”
Milla giggled. “You know, I always had a feeling about him. Something’s just... off. Like, he’s almost too friendly with Boq and Crope. I’m not even surprised he’s a fag.”
Pfannee snorted. “It’s disgusting isn’t it? He’s pathetic, but at least he’s got a more suitable friend group, they’re a walking pride parade.”
Glinda’s stomach twisted.
She didn’t move.
She didn’t speak.
She just stood there, the laughter around her sharp and grating.
It was too much. Too much all at once.
But she forced herself to laugh.Forced herself to smile.
And it felt so, so wrong.
Glinda’s smile faltered.
But she didn’t let it drop completely.
She didn’t let them see. Not here, not yet.
By the time Glinda got home she was fully panicking.
Glinda’s hands shook.
She could barely breathe, could barely think. The walls of her bedroom felt like they were closing in on her, and her heart was pounding too fast, too loud.
She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t keep doing this.
The laughter, the cruelty, the way she stood there and let it happen. It was all too much.
She squeezed her eyes shut, hands gripping her phone too tight.
And then, before she could stop herself, she called.
It barely rang twice before Elphaba answered.
“…Glinda?”
Glinda gasped. Just hearing her voice sent a fresh wave of emotion crashing over her.
“I’m sorry,” she blurted out. “Oh Oz, I’m so sorry.”
There was a pause. A sharp inhale. “…Glinda, what happened?”
Glinda sucked in a breath, but it hitched, uneven. She was sobbing now, really sobbing.
“I just—I let them—I didn’t say anything,” she choked out, words spilling too fast, too desperate.“They were so—so awful, and I just stood there, and I—I laughed—”
“Glinda,” Elphaba’s voice softened, but there was an edge of something worried, tense. “Where are you?”
Glinda pressed a hand to her mouth, shaking. “I hate it. I hate them. I hate me.”
“Stop.” Elphaba’s voice was firm now. “Where. Are. You.”
Glinda tried to speak, but nothing came out. A broken sob. A shaky breath.
“I- I’m home, I- I can’t—” Her voice broke.
“I can’t breathe, Elphaba. I can’t—I can’t do this anymore.”
Silence. Then—a sharp inhale on the other end.
“Glinda,” Elphaba’s voice was quieter now, but urgent. “Listen to me. Look at something—anything in your room. Count how many corners it has.”
Glinda hiccupped a breath. “I—I don’t know—”
“Yes, you do.” Elphaba’s voice was softer now, steadier. “Pick one thing. Just one.”
Glinda forced her blurry eyes to focus. Her vanity mirror.
“Four,” she whispered. “It—it has four.”
“Good,” Elphaba said immediately. “Now tell me how many colors you can see in it.”
Glinda exhaled shakily, blinking tears off her lashes.
She didn’t know how, but Elphaba’s voice was pulling her back.
A shaky breath. A whisper. “I see gold.”
“Good,” Elphaba murmured. “You’re okay. I’m coming.”
Elphaba arrived in record time.
She barely knocked before Glinda flung the door open, eyes swollen and red-rimmed. She looked—devastated.
Elphaba barely had time to step inside before Glinda collapsed against her.
A shuddering sob tore from Glinda’s throat, and Elphaba caught her, arms wrapping around her tightly.
Glinda buried her face in Elphaba’s neck, tears spilling hot and fast. She clung to her, desperate, trembling.
“I’m sorry,” she gasped, voice breaking. “I’m so sorry, Elphie.”
Elphaba exhaled sharply, pressing her cheek against Glinda’s temple. “You don’t have to—”
“I do,” Glinda insisted, fisting Elphaba’s hoodie in her hands. “I let them—I laughed—I let them say those awful things, and I hate myself for it—”
Elphaba’s grip tightened. “Glinda.”
But Glinda couldn’t stop. Couldn’t hold back the flood.
“I don’t want to be like them,” she whispered, voice raw. “I don’t—”
Her sob hitched—sharp, breathless.
And Elphaba felt it. The sting.
Glinda’s tears burned.
A sharp, prickling heat where they touched her skin. A slow, creeping burn that grew the longer they stayed pressed together. But Elphaba didn’t move. Didn’t flinch.
She just held her tighter.
Glinda’s body shook harder. Her hands fumbled, pulling back just enough to look at her.
And then she saw it.
Elphaba’s jaw tensed, her cheek and neck blotchy with faint, irritated marks.
Glinda’s stomach dropped.
It wasn’t just a rumor.
She had heard the whispers before, the ridiculous speculation about Elphaba’s “water allergy.” It always sounded absurd. An exaggeration. Something that got stretched out over time to make Elphaba seem even more other than people already thought she was.
But now—
Now she could see it.
Elphaba’s skin was angry and irritated where her tears had fallen, and it was because of her.
A fresh wave of guilt slammed into her.
“Oh, Elphie,” she breathed, horrified. “I—I’m hurting you—”
Elphaba shook her head. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not,” Glinda gasped, guilt crashing down on her. “Oh Oz, I—I didn’t mean—”
Her voice cracked. More tears welled in her eyes, but now she was too afraid to touch her.
Elphaba didn’t let her go.
She cupped Glinda’s face, thumbs brushing over tear-streaked skin. “Hey.”
Glinda blinked up at her, wide and glistening.
Elphaba held her steady. One hand still cradling her cheek, the other firm at her waist. Holding her together.
“You’re not like them,” Elphaba murmured, soft but firm. “And you never will be.”
Glinda sucked in a sharp breath, chest still rising and falling too fast.
Elphaba held her gaze. Grounded her.
“You’re okay,” she whispered. “I’ve got you.”
Glinda collapsed into her all over again, sobs breaking open.
And this time, Elphaba let her cry. Even as her skin burned, even as the sting remained, she never pulled away.
She just held her. Because Glinda needed it more.
At some point, Glinda’s sobs slowed. Not entirely gone, but no longer wracking through her body like a storm.
Elphaba shifted, easing them onto the couch. Glinda didn’t protest when Elphaba pulled a blanket around her shoulders.
A beat of silence. Then, softly:
“Stay.”
Elphaba blinked. Glinda was still curled into her side, voice barely above a whisper.
Elphaba hesitated. “Glinda—”
“Just for a little while.” She sniffled, eyes pleading. “Please.”
Elphaba exhaled, giving in.
They sat like that for a while. The room quiet except for the occasional sniffle.
Eventually, Glinda stirred. “Tea?”
Elphaba quirked a brow. “You’re offering me tea?”
Glinda wiped her eyes. “It’s the least I can do.”
Elphaba huffed, but didn’t argue.
Glinda disappeared into the kitchen, and for the first time that night, Elphaba let herself breathe.
A few minutes later, Glinda returned with two steaming mugs, her hands still slightly unsteady.She handed one to Elphaba before sitting beside her again, closer this time.
They drank in comfortable silence. The storm had passed, but something had shifted.
After a long pause, Glinda finally spoke. “So it is really true? The thing about water?”
Elphaba set her mug down, glancing at Glinda. “Yeah.”
Glinda hesitated. “How bad is it?”
Elphaba sighed. “Bad enough.”
Glinda faced her fully, searching her face. “But, you can drink water.. you sweat? What about when you cry?”
Elphaba cleared her throat, biting her lip before nodding. “It’s a skin allergy, so water is fine to drink. Sweat stings just a little, but not enough to be painful. Crying.. crying hurts. Maybe cause it’s more concentrated to one area.” Elphaba shrugged and reached for her mug again.
Glinda nodded, absorbing that. “I thought it was just some weird rumor.”
A small, wry smile tugged at Elphaba’s lips. “Most people do.”
And neither of them were ready to move just yet.