Chapter 26
When she found Ama Clutch in the sitting room, hands pressed around a steaming cup of tea, Glinda hesitated—then sat in a chair across from her.
Ama didn’t even glance up. “Well?”
Glinda took a breath, exhaling shakily. “I—I need to tell you something.”
Ama finally looked at her.
Glinda’s fingers curled into the hem of her sleeve. “It’s… about someone.”
Ama eyed her carefully, then sighed, setting her tea down.
“I know, Duckie.”
Glinda froze. “You—?”
Ama nodded once, matter-of-fact. “You’ve been different lately. Happier. Distracted. I’d have to be blind not to notice.”
Glinda swallowed, throat tight. “You don’t think it’s…?”
“Wrong?” Ama finished for her. “No.”
Glinda’s breath hitched, eyes stinging as she let out a shaky exhale. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Ama huffed softly, her eyes kind. “No one ever does.”
Glinda felt like she could breathe.
Elphaba knew the moment she sat down for breakfast that she was in trouble.
Frex barely looked up from his newspaper, but Nessarose had that smug little tilt to her lips, the one that meant she was about to enjoy whatever happened next.
“Elphaba,” she said, tone syrupy. “You’ve been out quite a lot this break.”
Elphaba exhaled through her nose, pushing her eggs around her plate. “It’s called having friends, Nessa. You should try it.”
Shell, sitting across from her, kicked her lightly under the table—a warning.
Frex folded the newspaper neatly and set it aside. “That’s what I’d like to discuss.”
Elphaba forced herself not to tense.
“You were out rather late last night,” he continued, voice measured. “I would’ve expected you to be more responsible than that.”
“I lost track of time,” she said smoothly, cutting her toast with deliberate focus.
“She got home fine,” Shell muttered, coming to her defense. “It’s break. Who cares?”
Frex ignored him. “I should hope you aren’t making a habit of this.” He took a slow sip of his tea. “That kind of behavior leads to… questionable influences.”
Elphaba’s grip on her fork tightened. “I can take care of myself.”
Frex studied her for a long, suffocating moment before finally nodding. “Let’s hope it stays that way.”
Nessarose delicately set down her cup, glancing at Elphaba with barely concealed curiosity. “So? Where were you?”
Elphaba hesitated for only a moment. “With Glinda.”
Silence.
Frex’s expression barely shifted, but his fingers tensed around the handle of his cup. Nessarose, however, blinked once before tilting her head. “Glinda Upland?”
Elphaba resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Yes, Nessa. There’s only one.”
A slow, knowing smile curled on Nessarose’s lips. “Well. That’s interesting.”
Elphaba felt her stomach twist. “It’s not.”
“Oh, I think it is,” Nessarose murmured. “Glinda Upland, the perfect little society girl.” She stirred her tea idly. “This isn’t the first time you’ve taken an interest in a girl, is it?”
Elphaba’s chest tightened. “What are you talking about?”
Nessarose’s eyes gleamed. “Sarima.”
The fork in Elphaba’s hand stilled.
Frex set his cup down, his expression unreadable. “That was a long time ago.”
Elphaba clenched her jaw. “And yet, here we are,” Nessarose said, tone light but cutting.
Shell shot her a glare. “Drop it, Nessa.”
Nessarose only smiled, sipping her tea.
Elphaba pushed her plate away, appetite gone.
Elphaba needed to get out of the house.
She didn’t bother telling anyone where she was going. She just left.
It was freezing, but she barely noticed. Her mind was too loud. The conversation at breakfast wouldn’t stop replaying in her head—Frex’s disapproval, Nessarose’s knowing look, the weight of Sarima’s name hanging between them.
Sarima.
Elphaba inhaled sharply through her nose as she ran upstairs, pulling off her boots and changing into her running sneakers. She yanked on an old hoodie, tying her braids back before heading outside.
The cold hit her immediately, but she ignored it. She needed to move.
She was twelve. Too young to understand why it was wrong, why a single, clumsy kiss behind the greenhouse had changed everything.
Sarima had laughed afterward, brushing it off like it was nothing, like it was just a game. And for a second, Elphaba had believed her. Until their parents found out.
She could still hear Frex’s voice. That is not the kind of girl you are, Elphaba.
Sarima was sent away within the week. Elphaba never saw her again.
She forced out a breath, blinking hard against the wind as she reached the edge of the estate. She needed to run. Needed to move.
So she did.
She ran until her lungs burned, until the memories blurred at the edges, until she wasn’t thinking about Frex or Nessarose or Sarima or Glinda or anything at all. Just the cold air in her throat, the steady pounding of her feet against the ground, the ache in her muscles that told her she was real, that she was here.
It wasn’t enough.
By the time she made it back to the house, her body was exhausted, but her mind was still racing. She was halfway up the stairs when Shell appeared at the top, watching her.
“You good?”
Elphaba exhaled sharply, bracing a hand on the banister. “Fine.”
Shell didn’t move. “You sure?”
Her chest was still rising and falling rapidly from the run. She didn’t answer.
Shell sighed, shifting his weight. “You know, just because they talk doesn’t mean they’re right.”
Elphaba’s fingers tightened around the railing. “Did I say they were?”
Shell didn’t push. He just studied her for a second, then shrugged. “Okay.”
But before he could walk away, Elphaba softened. “Hey,” she said, her voice quieter now. “Did you eat?”
Shell blinked, caught off guard. “Uh… yeah.”
Elphaba gave him a knowing look. “A real meal or just something quick?”
Shell hesitated. “…Toast.”
Elphaba sighed, rolling her eyes. “Come on, I’ll make something.”
Shell looked surprised but didn’t argue.
Elphaba placed a hand on his shoulder as they walked toward the kitchen. “You gotta take care of yourself, Shell.”
Shell smirked. “You too.”
Elphaba huffed but didn’t fight it. She knew he was right.