Move in
Glinda Upland had spent years perfecting the art of having it all. The looks, the charm, the effortless presence in any room—she’d mastered every move necessary to keep her life exactly as it should be. At Shiz, she would be untouchable, seamlessly integrating into the top sororities, keeping her social life pristine, and continuing her carefully constructed fairytale. Everything was supposed to be perfect.
But then, there was Fiyero.
They had been together since senior year—on and off, never too serious, but just enough for appearances. He was the right kind of boyfriend, the kind who never pressured her, never asked why she hesitated when he kissed her, never questioned why she always seemed more comfortable in public than in private. She told herself that if things with Fiyero ever ended, she’d finally be able to be herself. She had always thought of their relationship as temporary—a placeholder for the person she was actually meant to be.
Then, she lost her virginity to him.
She had hoped, prayed, that it would make things clearer. That it would ground her in the version of herself she had built, the one she was supposed to be. Instead, it only solidified what she already knew: this wasn’t for her.
Fiyero hadn’t noticed. Or maybe he had and just didn’t care. He got what he wanted—a casual relationship with no strings attached, a pretty girlfriend who fit neatly into his life. In return, Glinda got to keep pretending. Their arrangement worked for both of them, but lately, she felt suffocated by it, like she was trapped in a role she was too scared to step out of.
And now, just when she was hoping to start fresh, she was assigned a roommate.
Elphaba Thropp was already in a bad mood when she arrived on campus.
It wasn’t the heat. It wasn’t the fact that she’d spent the entire morning helping her sister, Nessarose, settle into her dorm on the opposite side of campus. It wasn’t even the weight of her old backpack slamming into her spine as she trudged toward the building that housed the residence halls.
It was the realization that she had to live with someone else.
Elphaba had done her best to secure a single room, but of course, her father had refused to sign off on the extra expense. He had no problem dropping money on Nessarose’s fully furnished, ultra-accessible dorm, but when Elphaba had broached the topic, he had looked at her with that expression—the one that said you ask for too much already.
So here she was, stuck with a roommate she was already preemptively loathing.
She gritted her teeth, double-checking the paper in her hand. Room 312C. A shared suite, which meant there were two bedrooms, but she still had to share a common space.
Elphaba had never been great at socializing. She was better at being on the outside, watching people rather than engaging with them. It wasn’t that she didn’t want connection—she just didn’t know how.
High school had been bearable mostly thanks to Boq, her best (and only) real friend. Boq’s friends Tibbett and Crope quickly adopted her as well. They gave her an escape at the end of the day, reminded her she wasn’t alone.
She had mostly kept to herself, burying herself in books and debate team, but also—unexpectedly—track. Running had been the one thing that made sense, the one place where she didn’t have to fight to be understood. Just her, the track, and the quiet burn in her legs as she sprinted toward something, anything.
It didn’t make her popular, but it had made her tolerable in the eyes of the student body. Which was more than she could say for now, standing outside her new dorm, steeling herself for whatever nightmare awaited her on the other side of that door.
She pushed it open and—
Oh, no.
The room was pink.
Not just pink—aggressively pink. The walls were plastered with fairy lights, the window had sheer curtains that shimmered under the afternoon sun.
And sitting in the center of the couch, surrounded by totes and cases, tossing her blonde curls over one shoulder with ease, was Glinda Upland.
Elphaba stopped in the doorway, gripping the strap of her backpack so hard her knuckles ached.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
Glinda looked up, startled, before her expression shifted into something glittering and amused.
“Oh. It’s you.”
Elphaba clenched her jaw. Fantastic.
Of all the people she could have been stuck living with for an entire year, it had to be Glinda.
And worse? They already had history.
Back in middle and high school, they had been on opposite ends of the social spectrum. Elphaba had been the quiet, bookish, always-in-trouble-for-arguing-with-the-teachers girl. Glinda had been head of every club that mattered, charming the administration, making herself beloved.
They had clashed constantly.
Glinda had made offhand comments about Elphaba’s “intensity.” Elphaba had rolled her eyes at Glinda’s shallow conversations and picture-perfect life.
There had been one particular incident at a debate competition where Elphaba had absolutely eviscerated Glinda’s team with a brutal argument, only for Glinda to casually dismiss her in front of the entire auditorium with one perfect, cutting remark that had left Elphaba seething for days.
And now she was her roommate.
Glinda sighed dramatically and flopped backward onto the bed.
“I specifically requested a roommate who wasn’t terrifying,” she muttered. “I feel so betrayed.”
Elphaba bristled. “Oh, trust me. You’re not the only one who’s disappointed.”
Glinda sat up, with a smirk on her face. “Well, at least we’re in agreement on something. Since I was here first I picked the room farthest from the door, you know, in case an intruder comes in. They’ll get you first.”
Elphaba exhaled sharply and trudged across the living room, forcing herself to stay calm. The last thing she needed was to get into it with her roommate before classes even started.
She dropped her bag onto the empty bed, already regretting every decision that had led her to this moment.
This was going to be a disaster.