Radiant
Boq slumped into the chair beside Elphaba in the quiet corner of the library, his head resting dramatically on the table. “She doesn’t even look at me, Elphaba. It’s like I don’t exist! What do I have to do, grow wings? Turn green?”
Elphaba raised an unimpressed brow, not even glancing up from her book. “Trust me, being green isn’t exactly an advantage in the social arena.”
Boq groaned, running his hands through his hair. “I’ve tried everything. Compliments, carrying her books, even offering her a free coffee at the café. She just brushes me off like I’m some… insignificant speck of dust.”
Elphaba sighed, finally setting her book down. “Boq, maybe you’re trying too hard. Glinda doesn’t respond well to… desperation.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” Boq muttered. “You’re not the one pining for her while she sparkles her way through life like some untouchable goddess.”
Elphaba smirked faintly, a mischievous glint in her eye. “You think Glinda never brushes me off? Watch this.”
Before Boq could stop her, Elphaba stood and made her way toward the far end of the courtyard, where Glinda sat in a perfect little circle of her friends, giggling and gossiping like a flock of perfectly styled birds. Elphaba’s steady footsteps drew their attention, the chatter quieting as she approached.
“Well, if it isn’t our favorite ray of sunshine,” Elphaba said, her voice dripping with mock charm as she leaned casually against the table, her green skin stark against the soft pastel tones of the group. She fixed her sharp gaze on Glinda, a teasing smirk tugging at her lips. “I must say, Miss Glinda, you’re looking particularly radiant today. Is it the sunlight, or do you just glow naturally?”
Glinda blinked, momentarily caught off guard, before recovering with a saccharine laugh. Her friends followed suit, their laughter tinged with something cruel. “Oh, Elphaba,” Glinda said, tilting her head. “How sweet of you to notice. But then again, I suppose it must seem impressive when you’ve spent so much time in the shadows.”
The circle of friends erupted into giggles, their pointed looks flickering between Elphaba and Glinda.
Elphaba’s smirk didn’t falter, though a flicker of something unreadable passed through her eyes. She gave a little bow. “Touché. I’ll take that as a ‘thank you.’” She straightened and turned to walk away, tossing one last remark over her shoulder. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
Boq was waiting for her by the library steps, his expression a mixture of guilt and disbelief. “Elphaba, I—”
“See?” Elphaba interrupted, her tone wry. “It happens to all of us. It’s not just you.”
Boq frowned. “Yeah, but that was… harsh. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Elphaba said briskly, waving a hand. “I’m used to it.”
But she wasn’t fine. Not entirely. As much as she pretended to brush it off, Glinda’s biting words—and the laughter of her friends—lingered in her mind for the rest of the day.
***
After their evening class, as students filed out of the lecture hall, Elphaba lingered at her desk, lost in thought. She barely noticed Glinda approaching until the blonde’s shadow fell across her notes.
“Elphie,” Glinda said softly, her usual airy tone replaced with something… hesitant.
Elphaba glanced up, her brow furrowing. “What?”
Glinda shifted nervously, glancing around to make sure they were alone. “I wanted to ask you something.”
Elphaba straightened in her seat, folding her arms. “If this is about another round of public humiliation, I think I’ll pass.”
Glinda winced, her cheeks flushing. “No, it’s not that. I just… Were you being serious earlier? When you said… you know, that I looked radiant?”
Elphaba blinked, thrown off by the question. “Why does it matter?”
Glinda bit her lip, her usual confidence replaced with something almost vulnerable. “It just does.”
For a moment, Elphaba considered brushing her off—payback for the courtyard—but the earnest look in Glinda’s eyes stopped her. She let out a quiet sigh. “Yes, I was serious.”
Glinda’s lips parted slightly, surprise flashing across her face. She recovered quickly, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. “Oh.”
Elphaba arched a brow. “Satisfied?”
“I’m not sure,” Glinda admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. She glanced away, her cheeks still pink. “I just… I didn’t expect that.”
Elphaba tilted her head, studying her carefully. “Why? Is it so hard to believe that someone might think you’re…” She hesitated, her voice softening. “Beautiful?”
Glinda blinked, then tilted her chin up slightly. “Of course not. I know I’m beautiful,” she said, her voice quieter than usual. Her gaze softened as she added, “I just didn’t expect you to say it.”
Elphaba’s expression flickered for a moment—something unreadable passing across her sharp features—before she stepped back and gathered her books, tucking them neatly under her arm. “Anyway, you’re welcome. Again.” She brushed past Glinda, leaving the blonde standing in stunned silence.
As she exited the lecture hall, a faint, almost wistful smile tugged at Elphaba’s lips.
***
Elphaba groaned as a sharp knock rattled the wall beside her bed, dragging her from the haze of sleep. She rolled over, burying her face in her pillow.
“Elphie! You’re going to be late!”
Her eyes cracked open at the familiar voice. “Glinda?” she croaked, her tone somewhere between disbelief and irritation. She squinted at the clock on her desk, noting with dismay that it was barely six in the morning. “It’s early. ”
“Exactly!” Glinda’s voice was chipper, entirely too awake for the ungodly hour. “Class starts in an hour, and it takes at least that long to look presentable!”
“Maybe for you,” Elphaba muttered, dragging herself upright and pulling against the dreams that beckoned her back into unconsciousness. She squinted across the room at Glinda, who was already fully dressed and preened, perched daintily on her bed.
Glinda, dressed in a pale pink dress that somehow sparkled even in the dim morning light, gave her an appraising once-over. “Elphaba,” she said with mock severity, “if you’re planning to go out in public looking like that, you’re going to give Shiz a reputation problem.”
Elphaba rolled her eyes. “And here I thought you woke me out of the goodness of your heart.”
“Well, that too, ” Glinda said with a coy smile, hopping off her bed to stand in front of Elphaba’s. “But honestly, I couldn’t risk you embarrassing yourself and, by extension, me. Due to that stunt you pulled, people might start thinking we… talk.” She said the last word with a dramatic shudder, though the gleam in her eyes betrayed her amusement.
“I’ll make sure to keep my shameful presence away from your shining reputation,” Elphaba deadpanned, rubbing at her eyes.
Glinda placed a manicured hand on her hip. “That reminds me,” she said, her tone dropping slightly. “About what you said yesterday…”
Elphaba’s brows furrowed. “What about it?”
“If you’re going to make any more grand proclamations about my beauty,” Glinda said, leaning in with a playful glint in her eye, “make sure to say them in private. The last thing I need is anyone thinking we’re… friends.”
Elphaba’s lips twitched, and she crossed her arms. “Wouldn’t dream of tarnishing your pristine image.”
“Good,” Glinda said breezily, though her cheeks seemed a touch pinker than usual. She turned back toward her side of the room, fluffing her curls in the small vanity mirror.
Elphaba watched her with a bemused smirk, shaking her head. “Unbelievable,” she muttered under her breath before reaching for her robe and trudging toward the washroom.
***
The afternoon sun bathed the Shiz University quad in golden light, glinting off manicured lawns and polished stone paths. Students milled about in small groups, chatting and laughing as they made their way to and from classes. Glinda stood at the center of a circle of admirers, her laugh like the tinkling of bells as she delivered some clever quip that sent her friends into fits of giggles.
As the laughter subsided, Glinda’s gaze wandered over the heads of her entourage. Her eyes landed on a familiar figure striding across the quad. Elphaba, her long black shroud billowing slightly in the breeze, moved with her usual no-nonsense determination, her attention focused ahead as though she had no time for the petty social theatrics unfolding around her.
Without thinking, Glinda reached up and ran her fingers through her golden curls, giving her hair an effortless toss toss that sent it cascading over her shoulders in perfect waves. The sunlight caught in the strands, making them gleam like spun gold.
Elphaba’s steps slowed ever so slightly as her gaze flicked toward Glinda. A slow smirk tugged at her lips, and for a moment, her dark eyes gleamed with something Glinda couldn’t quite place.
Heat flooded Glinda’s cheeks as she realized what she’d just done—and why. Her posture stiffened, and she quickly turned back to her friends, nodding along as if she were still part of their conversation. But her thoughts raced, her composure faltering.
Oh, Oz. Did I just toss my hair… for Elphaba?
Her stomach twisted in a way that was both thrilling and deeply unsettling. She clenched her hands into fists, her nails pressing into her palms as if to anchor herself in reality. What’s wrong with me?
From the corner of her eye, she saw Elphaba continue on her path, her smirk lingering even as she disappeared around the corner of a building.
Glinda bit her lip, her cheeks still burning. She turned back to her friends with a strained smile, silently willing herself to focus on their chatter. But the faint echo of that smirk refused to leave her mind.
***
When Glinda returned to their dorm room that evening, she hesitated at the door, half-expecting Elphaba to glance up and smirk at her again. She braced herself for some sarcastic comment, something sharp and clever that would leave her flustered and irritated all over again. But as she stepped inside, Elphaba didn’t even look up.
Seated at her desk, her long legs crossed under her chair, Elphaba was utterly absorbed in a thick, weathered book. One hand propped up her chin, her sharp profile illuminated by the warm glow of the desk lamp. Her free hand absentmindedly turned a page, her focus never wavering.
Glinda lingered for a moment, hovering near the door. When it became clear that Elphaba had no intention of acknowledging her, she huffed softly and marched to her vanity.
As she began her evening routine, carefully removing her makeup and smoothing creams onto her skin, she couldn’t help but glance toward Elphaba every few moments. Maybe she was just waiting for the right moment to say something. Maybe she’d look up and deliver one of her dry remarks about Glinda’s beauty regimen.
But no. Elphaba stayed where she was, her nose buried in her book, seemingly oblivious to Glinda’s presence.
By the time Glinda started brushing her hair, her patience had worn thin. She tugged the brush through her curls a little harder than necessary, her annoyance bubbling to the surface. Finally, she slammed the brush down on the vanity and turned toward Elphaba.
“What are you reading that’s so fascinating, anyway?”
Elphaba didn’t flinch at the outburst. She merely flicked her gaze up from the book, her expression calm and unbothered. “It’s about Animals in government,” she replied simply, holding up the cover for Glinda to see. The title, Equality and the Law: A History of Animal Representation, was printed in bold, unassuming letters.
Glinda blinked, her irritation giving way to disbelief. “You’re ignoring me… for goats and otters?”
Elphaba’s lips twitched. “Only someone who thinks the world revolves around themselves would assume that my engaging in my own personal activity was a slight to them.” She returned her attention to the book, clearly uninterested in continuing the conversation.
Glinda gaped at her, utterly flabbergasted. That was a very verbose insult that she wasn’t even going to dignify with a response. “I cannot believe this,” she muttered, throwing her hands up in exasperation. She turned back to her vanity, yanking open a drawer with more force than necessary. As she rummaged for her satin hair band, she couldn’t shake the thought that she was somehow losing out to a bunch of farm animals.
The indignity of it all.
Once Glinda finished her nighttime routine—her hair thoroughly brushed and her skin glowing from her meticulously applied creams—she slipped into her pajamas and began to climb into bed.
Elphaba, still seated at her desk, finally marked the place in her book with a small scrap of paper. She closed it carefully and placed it beside the stack of notes on the corner of her desk. Without a word, she stood, stretched, and started to prepare for bed herself.
Glinda, however, was far from her usual serene state. She plopped down onto her plush mattress and began fluffing her pillow with more force than necessary, punching it repeatedly as if it had personally offended her.
Elphaba glanced over her shoulder at the sight, her lips curving into a small, amused smile. It was such a rare moment to see Glinda looking less composed, less perfect, and… honestly, it was cute.
Unable to help herself, Elphaba chuckled softly.
Glinda paused her aggressive pillow-fluffing and turned to glare at her. “What’s so funny?” she demanded, her voice sharp, though a hint of insecurity crept into her tone.
Elphaba shook her head, her amusement still evident. “Nothing. Just… you.”
Glinda huffed and plopped the pillow and herself down with finality, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at the ceiling.
Elphaba hesitated for a moment, her expression softening as she watched Glinda’s pout linger in the dim light of the room. Finally, as she climbed into her own bed and pulled the blanket over her, she said quietly, “You were really pretty today.”
The words hung in the air, soft and sincere.
Glinda froze, her pout dissolving into wide-eyed surprise. A soft gasp left her lips as her cheeks flushed pink.
Elphaba had already turned onto her side, her back to Glinda, as if the words hadn’t left her mouth at all.
“Thank you,” Glinda whispered, her voice barely audible. She pulled the blanket slowly over herself as a shy, peaceful smile graced her lips.
For the first time that evening, she closed her eyes without a single thought of irritation or insecurity. Instead, her heart felt light, and the sound of Elphaba’s quiet compliment echoed in her mind as she drifted off to sleep.
***
Elphaba found Boq sitting under one of the large trees in the quad, a textbook open on his lap but clearly ignored. He was staring off into the distance, his shoulders slumped. She debated turning around and leaving him to his thoughts, but something held her back.
She approached quietly, her boots crunching softly against the grass. “Mind if I sit?”
Boq looked up, startled, but then nodded quickly. “Oh, sure. Of course.” He shifted his book to make space for her on the bench.
Elphaba sat down beside him, crossing her arms and leaning back slightly. “You look like you’ve lost your best friend.”
Boq sighed. “It’s… It’s Glinda,” he admitted, his voice heavy with dejection. He gestured in a way that said he was dealing with the same problems he had been dealing with days before.
Elphaba studied him for a moment, her lips pressed together in a thin line.
Boq frowned. “What? Has Glinda said something to you?”
Elphaba tilted her head, considering her answer. “Not… exactly. It’s complicated. But I’m starting to think that maybe…” She hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. “Maybe she doesn’t brush me off as much as I thought.”
Boq turned to her, his brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”
Elphaba sighed and twisted the ends of her long microbraids between her nervous fingers. “… I think Glinda might actually like it when I flirt with her.”
Boq’s mouth opened, then closed again, as if he wasn’t sure how to respond. “Wait…I’m confused.”
Elphaba raised an eyebrow. “It’s nothing huge. Just a few compliments. But… she doesn’t seem to hate it. Sometimes I think she might even welcome it.”
Boq slumped further into the bench, his face a mix of frustration and defeat. “So, what does that mean for me? I’ve been trying to get her to notice me for weeks , Elphaba.”
“I know,” she said softly, her tone surprisingly gentle. “That’s why I’m saying this. Maybe you’re going about it the wrong way.”
Boq looked at her skeptically. “The wrong way?”
Elphaba nodded, shifting to face him more directly. “Glinda’s image, her reputation—it’s everything to her. When she’s surrounded by her friends or out in public, she has to keep up appearances. She doesn’t want anything to threaten her social status.” She wiggled her finger between the two of them.
Boq’s frown deepened. “So, what are you saying?”
“I’m saying,” Elphaba began carefully, “that maybe you should try talking to her, flirting with her, when it’s just the two of you. When she doesn’t have to worry about what anyone else thinks. She might give you a chance then.”
Boq’s expression was uncertain, but there was a flicker of hope in his eyes. “You really think so?”
Elphaba shrugged. “It’s worth a shot, isn’t it? If you care about her as much as you say you do, then you’ll try. Just… be yourself, Boq. Don’t try to impress her or be something you’re not. She’ll see through that.”
He nodded slowly, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “I guess I could try that.”
Elphaba smiled faintly, standing and brushing off her skirt. “Good luck. And Boq?”
He looked up at her.
“She’s more complicated than you think. Don’t take it personally if it doesn’t work out. But if it does…” She hesitated, a strange, unreadable expression crossing her face. “Well, I hope it makes you both happy.”
Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away, leaving Boq alone under the tree, his thoughts racing with cautious optimism.
***
Boq waited until the end of the day, lingering near the library where he knew Glinda often stopped by to borrow books on etiquette or fashion. He spotted her exiting with a small, ribbon-bound notebook tucked under her arm, her golden curls bouncing as she walked.
Taking a deep breath, he stepped into her path. “Glinda! Hey!”
She looked up, startled, and then offered him a polite but distracted smile. “Oh, Boq. Hello. Is there something you need?”
“Actually, yes.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, his ears burning. “I was wondering if, um, you might want to… I don’t know, go out with me sometime? Just the two of us?”
Glinda blinked, her lips parting slightly in surprise. “Go out? Like… on a date?”
“Y-yeah,” Boq stammered, forcing himself to meet her gaze. “I just thought maybe we could get to know each other better. I mean, you’re always so busy, and I—”
“Boq,” Glinda interrupted gently but firmly, holding up a hand. Her smile was still in place, but there was a hint of pity in her eyes. “I think you’re very sweet. Truly. But… I don’t see you that way. I’m sorry.”
Boq’s shoulders slumped, and he nodded quickly, his face flushing with embarrassment. “No, it’s… it’s okay. I understand. Sorry to bother you.”
“It’s not a bother,” Glinda said, her tone kind but detached. “I hope we can still be friends.”
“Of course,” Boq muttered before stepping aside to let her pass.
Glinda walked away, her expression unreadable. As she turned the corner, she heard Boq reprimanding himself, saying “ I knew I shouldn’t listen to Elphaba!”
Her eyes narrowed.
***
When Glinda entered their shared dorm room later that evening, Elphaba was seated at her desk, engrossed in yet another book.
“Elphaba,” Glinda began, her voice sharp and cutting through the quiet.
Elphaba looked up, startled by the tone. “Yes?”
“Did you tell Boq to ask me out?” Glinda’s arms were crossed, her dark brown eyes blazing with accusation.
Elphaba frowned, her expression unreadable. “I… might have suggested it. Why?”
Glinda’s voice rose, indignation spilling out. “Why would you do that? Do you think my social life is some kind of experiment for you to meddle in?”
Elphaba closed her book with deliberate slowness, turning her full attention to Glinda. “I wasn’t meddling,” she said calmly. “Boq likes you. He’s liked you for ages. He just needed a push.”
Glinda scoffed, her cheeks flushing with a mix of anger and embarrassment. “And you thought you should be the one to give him that push? Without asking me how I felt about it?”
“I thought you might appreciate the gesture,” Elphaba shot back, her voice cool but defensive. “You’re always complaining about how shallow people are. Boq’s one of the few who actually cares about you for who you are.”
Glinda took a step forward, her frustration bubbling over. “But I don’t care about Boq that way! And now, thanks to you, I had to turn him down and feel like the villain in the process.”
Elphaba stood, her chair scraping slightly against the floor. “I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad,” she said, her voice quieter now. “I was trying to help him. And you, in a way.”
“In what way, exactly?” Glinda demanded, her hands on her hips.
Elphaba hesitated, the words catching in her throat. “Because I thought… I thought maybe if you saw how sincere he was, you’d realize there are people who genuinely care about you. People who aren’t just interested in appearances or status.”
Glinda stared at her, stunned into silence for a moment. Finally, she shook her head, her voice quieter but still firm. “Next time, don’t. Don’t decide what’s best for me, Elphaba. I can handle my own life.”
Elphaba nodded stiffly, her face an unreadable mask. “Understood.”
The room fell into an uneasy silence. Glinda sank onto her bed, her back turned to Elphaba, as her emotions churned inside her. She was upset, yes, but it wasn’t because of Boq or the rejection or even Elphaba meddling.
She didn’t like that Elphaba was pushing her off onto someone else…as if she didn’t like her in that way. The way her chest tightened at the thought—the way her breath hitched and her stomach fluttered—made her realize something else.
She liked Elphaba.
Not just as a friend, not just as her strange, sharp-witted roommate who made sarcastic remarks and read boring books. She liked her. In a way that made her heart race when Elphaba smirked or when her voice softened in rare moments of vulnerability.
The realization hit her like a gust of wind, knocking the air from her lungs.
Glinda turned away, pressing her face into her pillow as if that could somehow hide her burning cheeks and the overwhelming rush of emotions threatening to swallow her whole. How had she been so blind? How had she not seen this before?
As Elphaba quietly returned to her book, oblivious to the storm raging inside her, Glinda tried to ignore the aching knot in her chest—and the ridiculous, impossible hope that refused to go away.