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Sharing a room is an experience she does not wish on her worst enemy. Except her worst enemy is her roommate. It leaves her at an impasse.
She is there when Galinda wakes up, she is there when she goes to sleep, she is there during the day to study, she hogs her bathroom, she uses her balcony. And the stupid door is still broken. Galinda will not be the first to admit defeat and so the glass on the door cracks further. She knows someone should act, Shiz is located in Gillikin and she knows how cold it can get having grown up here. And yet she stubbornly ignores the problem.
What is harder to ignore is just how her roommate makes her feel this ungovernable, uncontrollable…loathing. When she is around Galinda’s pulse rushes, her face flushes, she feels out of control. She cannot stand her. She loathes her dark clothes and her silly glasses, the way she takes up space in any room she walks in, her annoying tendency to throw Galinda completely off kilter. (No one has ever challenged her like that. Everyone always acquiesces to everything she desires. It is refresh– no, loathsome, annoying, aggravating.)
And so she really needs to get Elphaba out of her room.
Fiyero is a welcome distraction for a while. He has the entire campus enthralled. She needs to have him. Her parents would love him. (She can almost hear Momsie's persuasive voice, Do you know what marrying a Prince could do for the Upland name? Her Popsicle would nod emphatically, It would open so many doors.) And so Galinda puts on her make-up, her best dress and her winsome personality and she flirts. She has always been good at flirting. A pretty smile, a toss of her hair, a sly look in her eyes, a witty comment on her tongue. Boys fawn over her and it makes her feel invincible. (Uncomfortable, her heart whispers.) She does the same with Fiyero. A Prince he might be, but he falls for her tricks just the same.
It is why she is currently getting ready to go out to the Ozdust Ballroom. A place that is most scandalocious. Galinda feels the contradictory thrill of it. She is both expected because of her popularity to sneak out to places like the Ozdust and yet parents would be aghast to know she went to such a place. She expects they would forgive her if they knew she was doing it to win over a Prince of Winkie Country.
The dress is tied into place by her friends and as she looks at herself in the mirror she likes how she looks. She likes the colors of the dress, the oranges and pinks working well together like a dawn sky. (Dawn is her favorite part of the day. She wishes she could still find the time to paint. The view from her balcony is exceptional. But every time she would have the time to recreate the beauty around her, Elphaba is there and Galinda can’t show her such vulnerability. Just another reason to get her out of her room.) Galinda smiles at her reflection.
Distantly she hears Pfannee say, “Fiyero's gonna lose what's left of his mind.” Her smile turns wooden. The dress feels constricting and suddenly she notices all of the ways in which it shows too much skin, too much free reign of her body. She forces the smile to stay plastered on her face, pulling at the muscles to maintain a mask. It is a good thing if he loses his mind at seeing her in this dress, it brings her closer to her goal, her seduction. That is what her parents would want, it is what she wants. (If you pretend hard enough you can make anything real, her heart whispers traitorously. But it isn’t pretending, her mind argues stubbornly, he is perfect and she is perfect so they are perfect for each other. It is that simple.)
Galinda goes through the motions. She entertains her friends and pointedly discusses how lucky she is that Fiyero has crossed paths with her. The hat is an unfortunate find, but how could she refuse her friends this prank? (Especially when jealousy stirs in her chest upon seeing the sorcery books.) And so she invites Elphaba to the Ozdust and then she gives her the hat. Galinda moves on and tries to forget about it. And she does for a while. She gets caught up in what is expected of her.
As Fiyero picks a rose and puts it behind her ear, she feels a twist in her gut. Those must be those butterflies everyone speaks of. Galinda gives him her best smile. Dancing, drinking and (unwelcome) touching is what she recollects from the Ozdust Ballroom. Fiyero has all his attention focused on her. He dances with her – and only her – in a room full of their peers. She can feel their jealous eyes on her. “You’re beautiful,” Fiyero whispers before he leans in to kiss her. Galinda smiles into the kiss, knowing she has won that which others desire. (She feels her stomach turn uncomfortably. His hands don’t feel secure, but constricting. She can almost taste bile on the back of her tongue.) This is what success tastes like. She kisses him back passionately, letting his hands roam inappropriately, as she tries to ignore the room around them.
They are forced to pull apart when the music speeds up and they have to get off the dancefloor. But even as they are forced to pull apart then, Fiyero still hangs around her the entire evening. She bats her eyelashes as she peers at him from beneath half-lidded eyes, she caresses the muscles on his arm he puts on display for her and she drinks. She drinks a lot. The alcohol makes her nerves settle down. Smiles come easier, his presence becomes more bearable.
Galinda is pulled out of her thoughts by the arrival of Madame Morrible and it all goes to shit from there. A wand, a kindness, an olive branch, Elphaba reaching out for her. And all Galinda has given her in return is a cruel prank. Fiyero is forgotten in her mind until she feels his overbearing presence next to her again, “I'll say this much, she doesn't give a twig what anyone thinks.”
(Wrong, he is wrong. This is all wrong.) “Of course she does,” Galinda retorts, “She just pretends not to.” (Like me…) Galinda feels an itch beneath her skin of needing to do something, anything. Her heart screams at her. And so she steps forward. Dark green eyes look at her. Hurt is plain to see, with the expectation of more pain. Galinda does not wish to hurt her. (She never wanted this, any of this.) She mirrors her, the way she danced, the way she showed vulnerability. If they are mirrors of each other, let that be clear to everyone in that room. If they will laugh at Elphaba, let them laugh at her. She ignores the eyes of her friends which are boring into her back. Her focus is on Elphaba.
She sees the moment that Elphaba opens herself up to the possibility that Galinda will not hurt her. That she is standing with her, supporting her, apologizing. She sees the tears run down her verdant skin and Galinda wipes them away within a moment, “It’s all right.” And so they dance. Tears turn into hesitant smiles and then into radiant smiles. Galinda doesn't have to force it when she pulls her into a hug to offer comfort for both of them.
It is the second time that night that she danced with someone, the second time that she felt another person’s arms around her. Galinda feels exuberant, joyful, delirious. (In the deepest darkest recesses of her heart of heart’s she can admit that with Elphaba, it feels right.)
Being around Elphaba makes her lose track of time. After they leave the Ozdust Ballroom, they rush back to the dorms. The remainder of the night passes in a blur. Her mind stutters to a halt at Elphaba’s dreadful tale and her heart throbs painfully in sympathy with the pain she sees painted across Elphaba’s features, the downward tilt of her shoulders barely holding up under the weight of her guilt. Galinda tries to alleviate it, she has to help her new friend, “No. That was the milkflowers' fault, not yours.” (Her own ‘secret’ weighs heavy on her mind. Fiyero and I are getting married. It is logical, what her parents would want, what she should want. She sets it aside to focus on Elphaba.)
She can still see doubt linger in her expressive eyes and so she tries to reassure her, “That might be your secret, Elphaba, but that doesn’t make it true.”
And then the sun rises. Dawn, her favorite part of the day, the moment that offers new opportunities, new beginnings. May it offer a new beginning for them as well.
“Look, it’s tomorrow,” Galinda offers with a smile. The sun shining into the room casts Elphaba in an ethereal glow. Galinda feels like the breath has been knocked out of her. As a distraction from that thought, she gets up in a hurry.
“And, Elphie…” she feels her heart sing at the nickname, that feels right, “Can I call you ‘Elphie’?”
“Well, it’s a little bit perky. I don’t really…” Elphie tries to argue, but Galinda interrupts her, “I know, I’m going to call you that. And you can call me…Galinda.” She smiles her winning smile at her.
“That is your name,” Elphie deadpans, raising a brow at her.
“Let’s not quarrel,” Galinda retorts instantly with a teasing smile, which makes Elphie laugh softly in reply. (Our first fight, Fiyero’s voice echoes in her head. She banishes the voice to the dark recesses of her mind. This has nothing to do with him.) She changes tack.
“Elphie,” Galinda loves saying the nickname and Elphie indicates she is listening indulgent with her antics where before she would have been up in arms, “Now that we’re friends, I’ve decided to make you my new project.”
“Oh, you really don’t have to do that,” Elphie tries to refuse.
“I know,” Galinda says, thinking of all the ways in which she can make Elphie popular, to make up for her previous awful behavior, “That’s what makes me so nice.” (False, her heart still simmers with guilt over the prank from the night before. She will make it up to her. And what better way than to offer her what everyone else seeks: popularity.)
The makeover goes dreadfully wrong. None of her clothes work and the stupid wand won’t work either. And all the while Elphie looks at her with bemusement and fondness that makes Galinda’s heart race and face flush. But she doesn’t understand why. She can’t truly loathe her for her amusement at Galinda’s failure. She ignores it, she ignores it, she ignores it some more. She decides to try something else and guides Elphaba over to the chair before her vanity mirror.
“After you, Madame,” Galinda offers her the chair.
Elphie chuckles as she sits down, “Thank you.” (And mumbled beneath her breath Galinda thinks she hears her say, how gallant. Her heart skips a beat. She must have misheard.)
“Let’s see,” Galinda says as she thinks on where to start. It has to be something smaller. There is no need to change Elphaba completely. Now that they are friends, Galinda can admit that she is quite pretty. Thinking hard, she tugs on her earlobe as a force of habit, which reminds her of the object placed behind her ear. The flower Fiyero gave her, the one that has been annoyingly stabbing at her head, how could she have forgotten? It is perfect.
“Maybe just this,” Galinda removes the flower from her hair and leans over Elphie who is looking up at her with interest (reverence). She places the pink flower behind Elphaba’s ear, the way Fiyero placed it behind hers. She smiles at the pink complimenting the green of the other girl’s skin, “Pink goes good with green.”
“Goes ‘well’ with green,” Elphie agrees with her sentiment.
“It so does,” Galinda wants to tuck some of the braids behind Elphie’s ear but she refrains. Instead she places her hands on Elphie’s shoulders as they both turn to look in the vanity mirror. (Perhaps we go good together as well.)
“Why, Miss Elphaba, look at you,” Galinda presses her face into the side of Elphie’s head and breathes her in, she smells of dewey grass on a spring morning. Overcome by a longing she can’t place and a flutter in her stomach she ignores, Galinda breathes the next words into the room, “You’re beautiful.”
The flower looks much better on Elphaba than it did on her. Her thumbs rub at the fabric of her pretty froat as she sees tears glisten in Elphie’s eyes. She needs her to see what Galinda can see, what so many others before including herself have refused to see.
“I have to go,” Elphie mutters before getting up and rushing out of their room. Galinda takes off after her but stops outside their doorway. (Perhaps she should give Elphie her space, she knows she can be overbearing.) And so she stays to watch her walk away. Her heart clenches painfully.
Once they get past any initial awkwardness, they settle into their friendship. An easy routine is created in their dorm. Who uses the bathroom when, where Galinda places all her mountains of stuff, how long into the night Elphaba studies before finally turning in. They even make sure to have the glass on their balcony door fixed. Mending their room while they are building a friendship. It relieves some of the tension in their dorm. Though sometimes that tension comes roaring back. For example when Elphie steps out of their bathroom wrapped in a towel as she moves behind a dressing screen. Galinda grows tense and flustered. She figures she just hates her dragging in the remnants of the water on the wood flooring and expensive carpets. Annoyance is fine, not everything can be perfect with a roommate even if they are friends now. (It gets harder and harder to write off her feelings as loathing. She keeps trying valiantly.)
It is not just the mood in their room that is much improved by their newfound friendship. Galinda looks forward to classes as well now, even the ones she used to find abhorrent like history class. Because classes mean she gets to sit next to Elphie and spend all of their time together. The people around them stare, having a hard time getting used to the new status quo. Instead of catty comments thrown across the open space of a lecture hall, now they see chatting and giggles and playful bumps. Galinda even takes to drawing in the margins of Elphie’s notebooks as she is trying to take her notes. She huffs and acts all annoyed, but Galinda sees the way she sometimes traces the drawings with her nail. (“These are beautiful, Galinda, I never knew you were an artist?” Elphie had said when Galinda first started drawing on her work. It had made her face flush bright red and her demure words came out like a stammer. Elphie let it go, but sometimes she peeked over curiously at Galinda in their class or their dorm when she saw a sketchbook open. The flustered feeling doesn’t quite leave her.)
As it turns out, being close to Elphie during class has its downside as well. It means that Fiyero enters Elphaba’s orbit as well. Fiyero hangs around more these days, he is her boyfriend after all. (She ignores the stab of shame to focus on the pride over her achievement. Her parents were so proud of her.) She sees the way they interact. It is all friendly teasing and playful jokes, but it sets Galinda’s nerves on edge. As she watches them interact she feels this ugly roiling thing growing in her gut. She knows Elphie would never try anything with Fiyero, she wouldn’t do that to Galinda or their friendship. But the feeling lingers. (It must simply be jealousy over Elphaba having so much of Fiyero’s attention, her mind reasons. Or it is that you envy him for being able to be borderline flirtatious with her, her heart whispers. Shut up, Galinda tells both of them.)
So when Dr Dillamond begins talking about a history project they need to work on in couples, Galinda leans into Elphie’s space and bats her lashes. It is only logical she would want to work with Elphie, she is a genius and history is her best subject. Galinda is just making smart decisions regarding her schooling. And if she lights up when Elphaba does pick her as a partner over Fiyero who is sitting next to them, then that is her business. “Sorry, dearest, you will have to find someone else,” Galinda tells Fiyero in a sickly sweet tone and shows him her teeth in the imitation of a smile. Elphaba furrows her brow as she looks between them. He simply nods indulgently and puts his arm around her shoulder, “That is no problem, darling.” Some of the smugness of her smile slips as the weight of his arm settles around her. No matter, she still won. (She would find out later on that he had no idea they were playing a game at all.)
Her resolve gets reaffirmed by the letter she receives from home. In the letter her Momsie gushes about her new relationship with a Prince of Winkie Country. Her and her Popsicle are desperate to meet this young man that has captured her heart. She repeats again how proud they are of her and how much they miss her. Galinda feels warm upon reading about their pride. So what if her heart remains barren and cold towards Fiyero, she can make it work. She just needs to try harder.
So the next time Fiyero pulls her aside in the gardens on campus and he kisses her so softly on the lips, Galinda leans into it. And when he places another flower behind her ear, she welcomes (read: suffers through) the gesture. As they pass by one of the windows around campus she looks at their reflection and she can see the image they make. It is strikingly beautiful. Their words upon their first meeting weren’t wrong, they were perfect apart and thus perfect together. But as she sees herself walking on his arm and sees the flower tucked behind her ear, all she can feel is indifference. (She dislikes the feeling of having him pressed against her body, but she hates it even more when he pays attention to Elphaba so she perseveres.) The only time her heart beats faster is when she sees the envy of the people they walk past or when she remembers the pride of her parents. They eventually go their separate ways since Galinda is supposed to meet Elphie in the book place to work on their history project.
Galinda enters the open space and immediately seeks out Elphaba. Her eyes find her in an instant like a magnet. It is not even her green skin that draws the eye – though Galinda finds there is beauty in that – it is her energy that feels like a string drawn around Galinda’s body, around her heart. That string pulls her across the room like a leash. She happily goes along.
“Well hello, Miss Elphaba, how grand to find you here,” Galinda starts playfully as if they hadn’t made plans to meet up here.
Elphie looks up at her with bemused, “Always so dramatic, Galinda.”
“You love me,” Galinda lets the words fall easily between them as she sits down at the table Elphie is seated at. Elphaba rolls her eyes, but smiles fondly. As she starts discussing their history project, Galinda gets distracted as she often does when it comes to the subject. (It is not her fault when all Dr Dillamond wants to do is harp on about the past.) Instead Galinda’s eyes focus on Elphie’s expressive eyes, the way her glasses slip down slightly on the bridge of her nose or the way her hands move around excitedly when she discusses something she is passionate about.
The flower sits like an annoying reminder behind Galinda’s ear. She wants to rip it off, but it is such a waste to throw away. After all, the flower has been beautifully grown in the gardens to brighten up the space. Galinda thinks of an idea. In the middle of Elphie’s impassioned speech about their history project, Galinda takes the flower out from behind her ear and instead places it behind Elphie’s ear. It looks beautifully pink next to her black braids and her verdant skin. It looks so much better on her.
Her action has called Elphaba’s words to a halt as she looks at Galinda with wide eyes. Perhaps she is blushing Galinda thinks, but she has to be mistaken. Must be a trick of the light or the green of her skin playing tricks on her eyes. Galinda smiles at her and nods at her to continue talking. Elphaba eventually resumes discussing the project and Galinda tries to pay attention. It is only sometimes when her eyes slip over to the flower and her heart gives a happy beat that she gets slightly distractified.
They join their friends for dinner in the food hall afterwards. “That was simply too much time spent in that place,” Galinda is jokingly complaining to Elphie as they sit next to each other, “Who spends that much time around books and enjoys it?”
“Hey now, I do,” Elphaba laughs.
The conversation swirls around them so it is only after a little while when Galinda notices Fiyero is awfully quiet. She looks over at him and is about to call attention to his moodified behavior and ask what is wrong, when she notices he is already looking at her. Well, looking at her and at Elphaba. Galinda wants to move protectively in front of Elphie, so his eyes don’t linger on her, but she stops herself. She can see the wheels turning in his head as his eyes linger on the flower in Elphie’s hair before turning to the empty place behind Galinda’s ear where he had put it. (He is thinking, which worries her. She needs to distractify him.)
Deciding she has had enough to eat, Galinda gets up and walks over to Fiyero on the other side of the table. She presses her body close to his and she feels his arm wrap around her waist. She swallows down the bile and refuses to acknowledge the heat of Elphie’s eyes boring into her back. Galinda leans down to his ear and whispers, “I want to come by your dorm later.” She hopes he gets her implication.
Fiyero still appears slightly confused and she can see he might try to protest. So Galinda places her hand on his thigh, much too high to be appropriate among company, and bats her lashes at him prettily. She sees him swallow before he agrees, “I will see you later then.”
Galinda pulls away from him and leaves the food hall with quick strides. She can do this. She is Galinda Upland of the Upper Uplands. She gives her hair a good toss to remind herself of that fact.
Galinda gets ready to go see Fiyero. She puts on her prettiest dress – purposefully short to show off her smooth alabaster skin – and expertly curls her hair. Her make-up is done to perfection. The perfect mask. Galinda smiles at her reflection. (Fake.) Across the room she can see Elphie looking up from her book to gaze at Galinda from across the room. She ignores how warm it makes her feel.
“Goodnight, Elphie, don’t wait up for me,” Galinda bites at the inside of her cheek until she tastes blood when she sees the concern in dark green eyes.
She sees Elphie weigh her options, but she can see Elphaba does not wish to throw off the delicate balance of their friendship by calling her out on the tremble in her hands. After all it is just nerves, it is not like she has ever had sex before. Your first time is bound to be wracked with nerves. In the end, Elphie bids her goodnight with a reassuring smile. Galinda clings onto that as she leaves their room and drags herself across campus. Her clicking heels echo along the corridors until she comes to a stop outside of one particular private suite.
Galinda knocks. The reply comes swiftly in the form of Fiyero opening the door, “Hey Galinda, come on in.”
He gives her that easy smile that makes everyone swoon. Galinda pokes her tongue at the inside of her cheek, at the place she bit down on before. The taste of iron and the hint of pain settles her. She feels Fiyero’s hand on the small of her back as he tries to steer her away from the bed and to a couch and plush chairs that make up a living space. Fiyero says, “We can sit over here and just talk for a moment.” Galinda digs in her heels. (She did not come here to talk. She cannot talk, because if she talks then she doesn’t know what words will come out and she will ruin everything.) So instead of going along with his steady hand, she turns towards him and stands on the tips of her toes to press her lips to his.
Fiyero is surprised at first and tries to interrupt her, “We really.” Kiss. “Should.” Kiss. “Talk.” The words are mumbled and not fully discernible. Galinda pretends not to hear as she insistently pushes at his shoulder while they are kissing. Steering him towards the bed on the other side of the room. Her stomach has tied itself in knots, which is better than bile rising up to the back of her throat. Galinda squeezes her eyes shut and focuses on the movement of their lips. He is actually a good kisser. The slide of lips and hint of tongue are sensations that are good, but the prickle of his stubble throws her off. The back of his legs hit the bed which forces him to sit down.
Fiyero’s hands settle on her hips as he gazes at her. His eyes look at her, seeking out some type of confirmation. Galinda fortifies herself and stops the shivers that she can feel trying to run through her body. (Her Momsie taught her better than that. She can push through this discomfort and it will be fine. They are just nerves, she wants this, she must want this.)
“Are you sure?” Fiyero asks her with some concern coloring his voice.
“Yes,” Galinda says as she forces a smile, “They’re just nerves.” (She has always been a good liar, even to herself.)
“Okay, but just say stop whenever, we don’t need to do this if you aren’t ready,” Fiyero’s thumbs rub circles into her hips and it would be steadying if she were in any other position.
Yes, Galinda says with the press of her lips against his. She takes off her heels and straddles his legs. Her arms come up to wrap around his necks and she runs her hands through the short ends of his hair. (She wishes his hair were longer. She imagines long black braids and-) She stops herself short at that thought and kisses him more furiously. Their tongues touch and Galinda wants to gag. (It’s wrong.) She feels his hands roam down to her ass and grab at it through the thin fabric of the short skirt. (It’s wrong.) She feels as he pushes her closer to him and she feels his erection against her center. (Wrong, wrong, wrong.)
Her breathing becomes more erratic and it is not caused by arousal. And then panic sets in. She can’t, she can’t, she can’t. Her breaths come in shaky inhales and exhales. Her chest expands and contracts at an increasing rate, but she feels as if she can’t breathe at all. Like the air is too thin, like it won’t go into her lungs. She breaks the kiss and gasps for breath. It won’t come. She needs to be away from him, she needs him gone. Galinda vaguely hears Fiyero say something, but she can’t hear him. Everything is tuned out by the rushing of blood in her ears. She scrambles away from him to the other side of the bed, where she curls up into a ball. She pushes her legs against her chest and squeezes her arms around them. Her breathing is heavy and won’t settle. She feels as if she is floating outside her body, but at the same time she is too present within her body. The sheets scratch at her skin. Her vision grows darker around the edges, so she decides to just close her eyes and bury her head against her legs. (She can’t breathe. She is going to die here.)
She feels the soft touch of Fiyero’s fingers touching her ankle. Even the minimal touch is too much, she kicks his hand away.
Through the rushing in her ears, she hears his muffled words, “Galinda, hey Galinda, it’s okay, you’re okay, I won’t touch you, but please breathe…”
Galinda doesn’t listen, she can barely even hear him. She feels too distant like Fiyero is trying to reach her beneath the water. Calling and reaching for her, but she just wants him to let her drown. She failed, she deserves this. She wishes she were in a bubble right now, left alone, to be untouched, unmoored, unmarked.
He tries again, “Galinda, breathe, just breathe with me please. In and then out, in and out.” She can’t comply, can’t make her body cooperate even if she wanted to. “No, slower, slow down, Galinda…” Fiyero trails off again, not knowing what to say. Galinda waits as she feels her heart race and she grows ever more lightheaded.
“Fuck, Galinda, do you want me to get Elphaba?”
Her name is what shakes Galinda out of her stupor, what snaps her back to reality. Even through the hazy vision, the muffled hearing and the panicked breathing, she struggles through breaths to force out an emphatic no as she vehemently shakes her head. (She does not wish for Elphie to see her like this.) In her effort to make her wishes clear, she has forced herself to make eye contact with Fiyero. She sees him sitting as far away as the bed will allow, concern and panic obvious in his eyes.
He nods his head in understanding and agreement with her request, “Okay, then I need you to breathe for me. Just look at me and do as I do.” Galinda forces her eyes to stay locked on him. Not focusing on what made her panic before, just on his movements and his words. “Breathe in through your nose,” Fiyero puffs up his chest in an exaggerated gesture, “Hold it. And then breathe out through your mouth.” He lets out a deep breath.
Galinda tries to follow him. It is hard at first, but eventually she forces her body to follow along. She gets the hang of it. The weight and pressure on her chest recede. Her heart calms down. The black edges on her vision disappear again. Once her breathing has settled, Galinda feels boneless and exhausted. She lets herself fully relax into the bed.
“Ssssh,” Fiyero hushes her, “You did good, just keep breathing like that.”
And so, Galinda does. She breathes slowly and feels the press of the bed beneath her. Focusing on the forces that ground her. Fiyero sits in silence with her. When more time has passed and it feels like forever ago when anyone broke the silence, Fiyero tries tapping at her ankle again. It is hesitant, a soft tap, a reassurance, a question. Galinda turns towards him and opens her eyes again. Too tired to do anything else, she simply stares at him and waits.
“Can I give you a hug?” he asks it kindly, as his fingers nervously pick at the sheets beneath him.
She looks at him with what must seem like suspicion, because his eyes widen and he starts rambling to explain himself, “Just a hug, not anything more. It is just that you are my friend and you’re obviously in pain and I want to comfort you, because I am sorry. I shouldn’t have let it go as far as it did, but I wanted to believe you and–”
Galinda cuts him off, “Yes, you can give me a hug.” (She needs the contact, even if she wishes he were someone else at the moment. He is right, he is still her friend, even though she wishes she were never his girlfriend in the first place. Perhaps they can start over.)
“Yes?” he asks once again for confirmation. Galinda nods.
Fiyero moves over slowly, careful to check for her reaction. She pushes herself up from her reclining position and when he opens his arms she lets herself fall into them. Now that the panic has receded and her previous stress has slowly left her body, Galinda finally feels her body relax into the comfort of the hug. That is when the tears come and they don’t stop coming. She sobs into his shoulder, loud ugly cries, heartrending cries. She feels Fiyero’s arms lay steadily around her. He squeezes her softly, but makes sure his grip is loose enough so she can get away if she needs to. She doesn’t. Instead she wets his shoulder with her tears. Self-deprecating thoughts swirl around her head. (You couldn’t do it, you are a failure, you are a disappointment, you should be ashamed of your defective heart.) He holds her through it all as he softly pets her hair and rubs circles into her back. They stay seated like that for an even longer time until finally her cries subside.
Galinda pulls away slightly as exhaustion hits her. But she still wants the contact to ground her, so she doesn’t float away again or slip beneath the waves of self-hatred. Fiyero has always been more perceptive than he lets on. So she shouldn’t be surprised when he lays down against the headboard and gestures for her to rest against him. Galinda goes willingly. Now resting soundly against him, her eyes droop slightly. But she forces herself to stay awake, she needs to check.
“Are you mad?” she asks in a small voice.
She feels Fiyero move suddenly to look at her with incredulity, but she keeps staring across the room, unable to meet his eyes. He lets her get away with it, but reassures her, “No, of course I am not mad, I thought you would be mad at me. I went along with this when I should have known better.”
“I’m not mad either,” Galinda offers him.
Silence reigns between them again, before she feels him take in a breath as his chest moves up, “What happened, Galinda?”
“I panicked.”
“Yes, I noticed that, but why exactly?” Fiyero inquires before adding, “If you want to tell me. I just want to help you.”
“I didn’t w-want to have…sex,” Galinda forces the words out.
“Then why try to force yourself?” Fiyero asks her with concern, “You didn’t think I would leave you if we didn’t have sex, right? I would never pressure you…”
Galinda tries to sort through her thoughts. Every touch of his that she despised, every romantic gesture she loathed, every kiss. Everything felt wrong. And not just with him. All the previous boys that have courted her, have laid their hands on her. It always felt wrong. (But it never felt wrong with her, her heart, oh her traitorous heart, murmurs.) She feels tears gather in her eyes again. She needs to tell someone. It might as well be Fiyero, he will probably hate her regardless. And so she jumps in.
“I would never want to have sex with you,” Galinda lets the words slip out of her, “because you’re a man.”
The admission is out there. It is the first time she has ever spoken the words aloud, has ever even admitted them to herself. She holds her breath and waits for his response.
“Oh…Galinda,” Fiyero reaches for her hand that is picking at the sheets and squeezes it, “Please, look at me.”
Galinda feels her lip tremble, but she forces it to stop by biting down and then looks up at him. All she finds is understanding brown eyes. And then he speaks. She expects some type of comment deriding the queerness of her heart, or a comment on how she strung him along, but all she gets is understanding. “Thank you for telling me, I am sorry I didn’t make you feel comfortable enough to tell me before everything went awry tonight.”
“What?” Galinda is shocked.
“What?” Fiyero echoes her question, raising a brow.
“I thought you would be mad.”
“Why do you keep thinking I will get mad at you over any of this?” Fiyero seems flabbergasted by the question.
“I strung you along, why wouldn’t you be mad? Well I wasn’t stringing you along the whole time…at first I was convinced that we were perfect for each other.” Now Galinda is the one rambling, “And I just thought I had to get over myself, that the feelings would come later. And my parents were so proud and supportive and…and…”
The next words choke her up, but she wants to be honest for once about how she feels and with Fiyero’s understanding brown eyes looking at her, Galinda feels strong. “And I thought if I could make myself love you then that would mean I wasn’t broken.”
“It didn’t work, did it?” Fiyero asks compassionately. Galinda shakes her head and more tears leak out. She brings her hand up to her face and rubs at the tears aggressively. Fiyero touches her hand to stop her from hurting herself. She lets her hand be pulled away. He brings out a handkerchief and dabs at her cheeks softly. The kindness of it breaks her heart more. He would be perfect, if only she wasn’t like this.
Fiyero pushes his fingers beneath her chin to make sure their eyes are locked, before he implores her to hear him, “You’re not broken.”
Galinda tries to shrug him off and shakes her head. Fiyero makes sure she keeps looking at him, “You aren’t broken just because you don’t like men.”
They let the words sit between them like a presence. Galinda lets the words sink in. She tries to accept them, but all she can think of is the vitriol she has picked up back home and her parents’ expectations that will go unfulfilled.
“Tell me if this is a wrong assumption, but you like women then?” Galinda nods and then lets her head fall onto his shoulder again. The knot in her stomach loosens somewhat.
“I’m sorry they have made you believe that loving women makes you broken,” Fiyero goes on, “I know how they are in Gillikin about this stuff and I need you to know that isn’t how it is everywhere in Oz.”
Galinda grows curious at his insinuation, “What do you mean?”
“Back home in Winkie Country, they don’t care about that sort of stuff,” Fiyero explains calmly, completely at ease with himself and the world, he adds, “I have brought home men, women, anyone in between and no one blinks an eye. It is Gillikin that is broken, not you. Your parents shouldn’t have placed those expectations on you.”
“You like men?” Galinda’s mind latches onto that one part, stunned at the revelation.
“I do,” Fiyero smiles at her surprise, “Gender is not a deciding factor in who I find attractive.”
“Oh…thank you for telling me as well,” Galinda bumps her shoulder against his.
“I had some suspicions about you before, but I just thought your sexuality was the same as mine,” Fiyero admits.
“What do you mean?” she is perplexed, or tries to convince herself she is. As if she doesn’t know what he is about to say. But her heart knows.
“I just meant I could see the way you look at Elphaba.” It is as simple as that, the truth right there out in the open.
Galinda feels a blush starting to spread from her cheeks down towards her neck and she tries to deflect, “I also saw your eyes on her.” It is accusatory, as if she has any claim to be jealous over who he likes now. (You aren’t jealous of him, you are jealous that his eyes are on her. Galinda really needs her heart to shut up.)
“Perhaps,” Fiyero offers matter-of-factly, “But that doesn’t matter when her eyes are always on you.” There is a teasing lilt at the end of his sentence.
Galinda wants to turn away and bury her face that has grown even redder in her arms.
“You should ask her out,” he tells her as if it is that simple.
She tries to pivot away from his suggestion, “I hope we can still be friends.”
“Of course, we can be friends,” Fiyero intones and smiles at her, “Now stop deflecting, we were talking about you and Elphaba and how you should confess your feelings to her.”
Galinda glares at him, but there is no heat behind it when he is smiling that silly grin like he is excited for her. (He truly wants her to be happy. Both of them.) Galinda pulls him into another hug. Suddenly with the expectation of the hugs leading to more gone, they feel comforting instead of restricting. Galinda can breathe again. Perhaps to make him proud or perhaps because she secretly wants to, she agrees to tell Elphie.
“But if it goes horribly wrong, I will never talk to you again,” Galinda declares jokingly.
“I am hurt, Miss Galinda, but I accept, because it won’t go horribly wrong.” Fiyero is too confident for his own good.
After that they simply relax on his bed. The atmosphere improves and the remainder of her stress leaves her body as Fiyero suggests ever more elaborate schemes to win over Elphie’s heart. She knows he is thinking of more and more ridiculous ideas to make her laugh and it works wonders. He has Galinda in fits of giggles. Eventually they fall asleep with the joy of newfound friendship in their hearts. She is glad to have him as a friend.
Galinda is a liar. She is not happy to have Fiyero as a friend. She actually hates him as he pushes her towards Elphie who is sitting alone on one of the benches in the garden reading her book. Galinda glares at Fiyero as he gives her a smile that is supposed to inspire confidence, but she just narrows her eyes at him and glares. She takes a deep breath before dragging her feet to walk over to Elphaba. She feels like her feet have been weighed down by lead.
“Elphie,” Galinda greets her softly, her name sounding like a caress. It is too much, she can barely keep in the love she feels clawing at her chest waiting to pour out. She doesn’t know how she ever contained this before. Now that she has admitted to these feelings they are an overwhelming presence. Galinda sits down next to her on the bench as Elphie puts her book away.
Elphaba turns to her and tries to put on a smile. Galinda can see how strained the smile is and is about to ask what is wrong when Elphie inquires, “How was your night with Fiyero?” (Jealousy. Galinda hopes it is not jealousy over him.)
Galinda panics, she does not want Elphaba to make the wrong assumption, so she blurts out, “We didn’t have sex.”
Elphie furrows her brow and asks, “Why not?” She seems surprised at her own question, because she immediately adds, “Wait, you don’t need to answer that, forget I asked.” She looks flustered at her own daring and her loose tongue.
Galinda decides this might be as good a way as any to tell her. She braces herself before saying the words, hoping they will come out more smoothly than the rambling Fiyero was treated to the night before. “I don’t like men, I like women.” (Galinda looks at Elphie imploringly, willing her to understand that she is telling her this as a kind of love confession.)
“Oh, Galinda,” Elphie looks surprised but her face morphs from the barely masked jealousy to compassion and understanding, “Of course you know I support you.” (Galinda should have known better than to expect Elphie to pick up on the hint. This girl is more obtuse and socially inept than anyone she has ever met. And you love her for it, her heart teases her affectionately.)
Galinda – unable to think of any other way to say this and too endeared by the girl in front of her to care anymore – leaps in, “No, Elphie, you misunderstand. I want to kiss you.”
And then the other shoe drops. She sees a blush start to darken her cheeks. Elphie’s green complexion turns into a darker shade of green. (She is so pretty.)
“Oh,” Elphie’s eyes are wide open as she finally understands what Galinda means, “Oh.”
“So do you want to as well?” Galinda cringes at her own question. She just needs a yes or no answer so she can either cheer or go to the Ozdust to drink herself into a stupor.
Elphaba rushes to answer, “Yes, absolutely.”
“Now?” Galinda asks to be sure, she understood her right.
“Please,” Elphie replies with a chuckle.
Galinda smiles in return and leans in to kiss her. (Somewhere a short distance away she can almost hear Fiyero’s whoop of excitement. She really does loathe (read: love) him.) Elphie is unsure how to kiss her at first. She remembers she told her that she has never been kissed before. Galinda tries to make sure her first kiss will be one she wants to remember. She kisses her softly, taking the lead. Moving their lips against each other. She finally feels the sparks of fireworks and the butterflies in her stomach everyone always described you would feel when kissing someone you like. Galinda is so glad she feels them with Elphie. The kiss grows more intense as Galinda puts her hand on Elphie’s jaw and tilts her head slightly so she can deepen the kiss. It is wonderful, beautiful, outstanding. She could kiss Elphaba forever and never get tired of it. She is sunshine on a cold day, water quenching a never-ending thirst, a warm fire during the winter months.
Eventually she has to pull away from the kiss when she starts to feel faint. She opens her eyes to find Elphie looking at her with dazed green eyes. A real smile stretches across her beautifully delicious lips. Galinda lets herself lean in again to peck those lips again.
“I want to keep doing that forever,” Elphaba confesses to her. Her hand is settled over Galinda’s hand which is still pressed against her jaw.
“Then we shall,” Galinda stands up and offers her hand, “But let’s go home first.”
Elphaba takes her hand and lets herself be pulled along through the gardens to their room. Galinda has never felt this happy in her entire life. And looking back at Elphie, who has the biggest grin on her face, the feeling seems to be mutual.