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“I’ve decided to make you my new project.” Galinda says, cheeks flushed and voice like distant bells. She’s flopped down onto her mountain of pillows and her tiny frame is engulfed by them, sinking deep in until Elphaba can only just see a stray blonde curl from her side of the room.
Elphaba arches an eyebrow in Galinda’s direction. The high and low of Galinda’s tone is hard to parse at the best of times, a dreamy layer of intoxication adds no clarity. So Elphaba opts for answering in the best way she knows how: with total seriousness.
“You really don’t have to do that.”
Before Elphaba can blink, Galinda has sat up. Her eyes- big, brown, and visibly watery even at this distance- are trained on Elphaba.
“Of course I do,” She says, tone even. Elphaba didn’t even know Galinda’s tone could be even. “I have to finish what I’ve started.”
“What you’ve started?” Elphaba asks as Galinda stares. She ducks her gaze totally away from Galinda. It doesn’t help to focus on her forehead or nose; away from the eyes, the center of intensity. Galinda’s jaw is set and her neck is taut. All of her is intense. “What have you started?”
Galinda lets that question hang in the air. Like Elphaba should have the answer already. Elphaba only knows what she did tonight. Hold her own against people who seem determined to punish her for existing.
What Galinda did… it was nice, Elphaba thinks. Kind even. But it was sudden and unexpected. How should Elphaba parse out what it means? For Galinda, let alone herself?
“Elphaba,” The mattress dips and Elphaba does glance over to see that Galinda is now sitting beside her. “You’re going to be like me.”
Like Galinda.
Elphaba is going to be like Galinda.
“Blonde?” Is all Elphaba can think to say.
And Galinda laughs. Like bells tinkling.
“That’s funny,” She says. “You’re funny. We can use that.”
Once again Galinda knows something Elphaba does not.
There’s a small knot in Elphaba’s stomach. Frustration? Competitiveness? Elphaba can’t tell. Either way, she wishes Galinda would stop assuming Elphaba can read her mind, and just come out and say what she means.
How does anyone get anything done when no one will say what they mean? Maybe that’s why Oz is in the state it’s in.
“I am saying what I mean,” Galinda brings a manicured hand to her chest to punctuate her offense. “You are going to be like me, Elphaba Thropp.”
“Galinda,” Elphaba pinches the bridge of her nose. “That could mean a thousand different things.”
Galinda shakes her head. “Elphaba, what is the most important thing about me?”
“For Oz’s sake!” Elphaba jumps to her feet. Her hands are fists and they beat slow, rhythmic punches into her hips. “Stop playing games with me. I don’t know, Galinda. I don’t know! Just tell me.”
A surge of something rushes through Elphaba. Does it feel good? Bad? There’s no time to tell, because with a pop the lamps in the room go out. And just as quickly as the feeling came, it’s gone.
The darkness lasts only a moment before the lamps come back to life. And when they do, Elphaba and Galinda are in the same position they were before. Elphaba stands and Galinda sits. Elphaba’s hands are fists, while Galinda’s are spread one on each knee. Galinda stares right at Elphaba, big, brown, watery eyes target Elphaba’s own.
And Elphaba does her best to dodge them.
“Can you stop looking at me like that?” Elphaba is first to break the silence.
And to Elphaba’s surprise, the answer is “Oh. Yes. Of course.” Galinda finds a particularly frilly pillow on her side of the room and turns her gaze towards it. Elphaba’s brow furrows noting the intensity of that gaze has not changed.
“You’re going to be popular,” Galinda says. Her tone is even once again. “Just like me. And then you can do anything.”
All at once, Elphaba understands.
This is what Galinda thinks freedom is.
“There’s some rules- well actually quite a lot of rules- you’ll have to learn,” Galinda continues. “Just like I did. But once you do… Oh Elphaba! You’re going to do amazing things.”
“Like what? Have my friends pick out my clothes for me?” Elphaba tries to bite her tongue but the words are already out. They just keep falling out. “Have them dress me up like a doll? And decide where I sit? And not hear a single word I say unless it’s wrapped in gold and ribbons? Is that what I have to look forward to with your help?”
Finally, thought complete, the words stop.
The knot in her stomach has returned tenfold. It feels now like it’s barbed.
For all Elphaba’s words, Galinda says nothing. She stares, some of that intensity waning. But she doesn’t respond. Her outstretched fingers claw at her dress, bringing waves of fabric to-and-fro.
“Galinda, I’m so…” Elphaba starts.
“You’re very smart,” There go those tinkling bells. High and low and high again. With seemingly no reason why. Elphaba doesn’t understand it, so instead she ignores it. Galinda’s words are enough. “But no one listens to you. No one hears you.”
It’s the truth. Elphaba knows this.
“And it’s not because your ideas are bad. Or wrong.”
“I know.” Elphaba bristles, eyes darting to the green of her hand.
“It’s not even just your skin,” Galinda’s eyes are still far away, lost in frilly pillows. “You don’t play by the rules. Sometimes it’s like you don’t even know the rules exist.”
Elphaba gulps. How often has she asked herself what handbook everyone else has? How did they receive it and not only read it all the way through but memorize it?
“When you don’t know the rules, you lose the game.” Galinda’s voice is too high, even for her.
“I wasn’t aware I was playing a game.” Elphaba says.
“And that’s the problem,” Galinda’s eyes are back on Elphaba. There are circles under them. “Let me help you learn the rules. Let me help you win the game.”
What does winning look like? Elphaba can’t imagine. Galinda, who has curled in on herself and whose eyelids droop, does not look like she’s won anything.
“Galinda,” Elphaba sits again, and forces herself to look at Galinda. “How did you learn the rules?”
Galinda’s big, brown, watery eyes tell everything.
“It won’t be like that for you,” Galinda says. “I won’t… You’re smarter than me. You’ll learn quicker. You’ll have a head start. If I tell people how good you are, they’ll believe me.”
There is no doubt in Elphaba’s mind that if Galinda vouched for her, everything would change. She understands that part so thoroughly it hurts.
“Okay,” Elphaba gulps. “Tell them I’m good. Tell them we’re friends.”
Galinda smiles and it’s bright. Perky even. It collides unevenly with everything else her face is doing. Still, one of her hands finds Elphaba’s and she squeezes. Friends. It doesn’t have to be a lie. Or a stepping stone to something greater.
“But no lessons,” Elphaba’s voice is stern. “Let’s just be friends and see what happens.”
Galinda squeezes Elphaba’s hand again and drops her head onto Elphaba’s shoulder. She yawns. It’s a little loud, just a touch undignified.
“We’ll see what happens.” She mutters.