Chapter 29
Glinda could barely focus.
She had spent the rest of the afternoon dodging knowing looks and whispered questions, all of them circling back to one thing:
Avaric.
Pfannee and Shenshen had already spun their own version of the story—how Glinda had clearly been sneaking around with him for weeks.
It was easier to let them believe it.
But Glinda hadn’t anticipated Avaric finding out.
“Not that I mind,” he said smoothly, falling into step beside her after last period, “but did you really have to use me as your cover story?”
Glinda stiffened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Avaric smirked. “Oh, you definitely do. Everyone thinks we’re sneaking around now.”
Glinda groaned. “Just—go along with it, will you?”
Avaric’s smirk deepened. “Oh, I’ll go along with it. But only if you do something for me.”
Glinda paused mid-step. “Excuse me?”
Avaric leaned in slightly, voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “See, I’m not an idiot. You’ve been acting weird for weeks. And now you suddenly need a cover? It wasn’t hard to put two and two together.”
Glinda’s blood ran cold.
He knew. Or at least, he had a damn good guess.
Her throat felt dry. “And what, exactly, do you think you know?”
Avaric shrugged. “Let’s just say, if you want me to keep playing along, I’ll be expecting some favors.”
Glinda’s fists clenched. “You’re disgusting.”
Avaric grinned. “And yet, here we are.”
Glinda swallowed down the wave of nausea and turned on her heel, storming off before she did something she’d regret.
But the weight of his words clung to her. He had leverage now.
And that was dangerous.
Elphaba wasn’t stupid.
She had heard the rumors.
Had heard Glinda’s name attached to Avaric’s.
And yet, she hadn’t asked. Not once.
She refused to.
But the boys?
The boys had no such restraint.
“So,” Crope mused, twirling a pencil between his fingers, “when were you going to tell us that you and Glinda are… something?”
Elphaba didn’t even flinch. “We’re not.”
Tibbett snorted. “You sure? Because the whole school seems to think she’s sneaking around with Avaric, and you look like you’re about to stab someone.”
Elphaba rolled her eyes. “You’re all ridiculous.”
Boq leaned forward, squinting at her. “You do know you’re being obvious, right?”
Elphaba exhaled sharply, flipping the page of her book. “There’s nothing to be obvious about.”
Crope smirked. “If you say so.”
Elphaba ignored them.
But her grip on her pencil was just a little too tight.
And she was definitely not thinking about Glinda.
Not at all.
Glinda felt sick.
Avaric’s arm draped casually around her shoulder, his fingers grazing the exposed skin of her upper arm. It wasn’t forceful. Wasn’t aggressive.
But it was a warning.
She could feel his smirk without even looking. Could hear the smug satisfaction in his voice as he leaned in and murmured, “Relax, Upland. You wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea, would you?”
Glinda’s breath hitched. She couldn’t move.
She couldn’t shove him away. Not without consequence.
So she forced herself to smile, to giggle like nothing was wrong, like she wasn’t suffocating under the weight of his leverage.
From across the hall, Elphaba saw everything.
She didn’t move, didn’t say a word. But her jaw clenched, and her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag.
Glinda hadn’t noticed her watching. Hadn’t seen the flash of hurt in Elphaba’s eyes before she turned and walked away.
She hadn’t realized what this looked like.
That Elphaba didn’t see the fear in her eyes—only the way she let Avaric touch her.
And now, Elphaba was gone.
Glinda finally dared to breathe, but it felt like something inside her had just shattered.
She wanted to tell Elphaba.
Wanted to run to her, explain everything, let her know that this wasn’t what it looked like.
That she wasn’t choosing Avaric. That she would never choose Avaric.
But if she told her, it would ruin everything.
Avaric had control. Not just over Glinda’s reputation, but Elphaba’s too. If he outed them, it wouldn’t just be Glinda who suffered—it would be Elphaba too, and she couldn’t risk that.
Because Elphaba was different. She was already an outsider, already watched too closely. People were waiting for a reason to tear her down. And if Glinda was the reason that happened—if Avaric used her as the final push—she would never forgive herself.
So when she reached for her phone, fingers hovering over Elphaba’s name, she hesitated.
And then she locked her phone and shoved it deep into her bag. Because if she told her, it made it real.
And she wasn’t sure she could handle that.
Elphaba was done waiting.
She was done pretending she didn’t care. Done letting Glinda string her along.
Because what else was she supposed to think? She saw them. Saw the way Glinda let Avaric touch her. Saw the way she didn’t pull away.
And worst of all? Glinda hadn’t even tried to explain.
That hurt more than anything.
So when Glinda finally found her—alone, tucked away in the back of the library after school—Elphaba didn’t even look up from her book.
“You weren’t in study hall.”
Elphaba turned a page. “Noticed that, did you?”
Glinda hated how cold she sounded. “Are you avoiding me?”
Elphaba exhaled sharply, finally closing her book. “Should I be?”
Glinda’s heart twisted. “Elphie—”
“Don’t.”
Glinda flinched.
Elphaba stared at her, expression unreadable. Waiting.
And Glinda—Glinda couldn’t say it. Couldn’t tell her what was happening. Couldn’t make herself admit just how deep this went.
So she said nothing. She just stood there, helpless.
Elphaba scoffed, shaking her head. Like she was done.
“Let me know when you figure out what you want, Upland.”
Glinda’s stomach dropped.
She hadn’t called her that since—
Since before all of this started. Since before their study sessions, before the stolen kisses, before the sleepovers where Elphaba whispered her name against her skin.
And now she was Upland again.
Elphaba pushed back her chair abruptly, the legs scraping against the floor. She grabbed her bag, standing so quickly that her knee bumped the table, making the books on top of it shift.
Glinda stepped forward, reaching out instinctively—but Elphaba was already walking away.
Her posture was rigid, shoulders squared like she was bracing for impact, but her fists were clenched so tight at her sides that Glinda swore she could see them shaking.
She wanted to chase after her. Wanted to make this right.
But Elphaba was already gone.
And Glinda was still frozen in place, unraveling