Moment of Weakness

It took one weak moment to change everything.

Prior to it, I was accustomed to the too-bright eyes radiating cheeriness from Galinda's angelic face, only for them to catch sight of my green skin, after which her forehead would twist into a petulant frown as she reeled through a list of green-related insults in her head. I no longer jolted awake when she bumbled back into our room at too late (early) hours of night (morning – Lurline knows what she did in all of that time), knocking over various objects scattered around her desk, bed and floor space as she failed to remember that I was sleeping. Nor did I bother correcting the flawed logic of her blonde ramblings, or grumble at her shrieks of displeasure when her appearance was supposedly less than satisfactory (Has she seen me, for goodness' sake? I'm green!).

We had come a long way from our loathing of each other at the beginning of term. The seemingly impossible task of sharing a room with the beautiful, popular, good Miss Galinda had fallen within my grasp once I had given into her infuriating quirks. By all means we were not friends, nor did I have any inclination to try to be one to her. She placed herself with society girls as rich as she was, if not more so. Sometimes she appeared to struggle to keep up with them: I once spotted her eyeing up an expensive diamond-infused bracelet on Shenshen's wrist with a longing expression pulsing from those wide, blue eyes. Then she glanced down at the simple gold band around her own wrist as though the world had ended.

I might call her an acquaintance if I was feeling kind. We knew each other only by association – that is what acquaintances are, right? After all, there was the occasional moment when she would pause in what she was doing, twist a strand of hair around her finger, turn to me and ask me a question of value. I remember:

Isn't it funny how deity is passé, yet the ideas and attributes of deity linger?

For a second only I could have been talking to a scholar, or at least a girl who paid attention to her lessons. But that particular door only opened fleetingly and infrequently before slamming back shut to be masked with the face of a dim, pretentious girl who believed that thinking was beyond her.

I may have gotten through to her eventually, but then the infuriating, brainless Fiyero showed up and captured her heart. In the aftermath, her genuine moments became more infrequent and I decided that I had completely lost her to the hands of the upper-class society and all of their airs and flares and pretences. The girls drooled over Fiyero, of course, though the endless stream of gossip about his good looks and charming wit and their sighs of attraction flew over my head. They did little more than irritate me. Of course, Miss Galinda would return to our room, her features graced with a lovey-dovey smile, and she would chatter endlessly about the Winkie Prince, unaware that I ignored her entirely, in favour of my books.

One weak moment. That's all it took.

In fact, I was already asleep and would have remained so if Galinda had not been particularly loud on this particular entrance to our room. I woke to the sound of a loud yelp followed by Galinda smacking one hand over her mouth, snivelling, as though she was trying to choke back a sob. Snapping one eye open I glared in her direction and then remembered that the room was dark and she wouldn't be able to see it.

Instead I said, in a gravelly tone, 'Miss Galinda, you are disturbing me from sleep. Will you please be quiet so that I can continue to do so?'

I expected a cutting response, but as the seconds passed and Galinda said nothing, my brow furrowed in confusion. I watched her silhouette cross the room to her bed on the other side. Her shoulders were hunched and her hair was not in its usual, perfect up-do.

'Miss Galinda?' I questioned.

Her tone, when she replied, was soft and girlish and accompanied by sniffles.

'Miss Elphaba, are you really so insensitive that when your own roommate walks in crying you care more about your beauty sleep?'

I sighed and got out of bed. It must be serious if no green vegetable comments were included. I switched on my bedside lamp and looked over at Galinda who was leaning against her bed with one hand on her face and the other hanging limply by her side. As I looked more closely my jaw dropped when I realised what she was covering up.

'Sweet Oz, you're injured!' I hurried to her side. 'Miss Galinda, who did this to you?'

She turned her face away and shook her head. She looked quite unlike the high-maintenance Galinda that I was used to. Her usual poise had been replaced by a vulnerability I had never seen from her before. The lack of acknowledgement of mascara running down her face was testament to the severity of the situation. I felt panic welling up inside of me.

'Miss Galinda, I need you to tell me what happened,' I said, more softly.

She let out a sob and black-tinted tears trickled down her cheeks. I went to the bathroom to get her some tissues, which she took and hurriedly wiped her face with them.

'How can I be letting you of all people see me like this?' she said, with only a little more of her usual feistiness. 'Lurline only knows, I am the ugliest girl in all of Oz.'

'Funny, I thought that was me,' I quipped.

'Fiyero hit me.'

I stared at her. Speechless.

'He wanted his way with me and I said no.'

My body was trembling. I bit down my anger.

'He said I was a pretty girl, just like all the rest of them.'

'The rest of whom?' I interrupted.

Galinda shook her head.

'I don't know,' she whispered, 'but I didn't let him. I ran.'

I reached out to hug her. She buried her dainty, bruised face into my shoulder and let out several loud, unpleasant, heaving sobs. I rubbed her back and eventually she quietened down into silent tears and a few sniffles and wimpers.

'You need to get that treated, Miss Galinda,' I said.

She shook her head.

'Yes, you do. I insist. You need to come down to the infirmary with me now, and get that looked at. You don't have to tell them anything if you don't want to, just let them patch you up. Okay?'

Miss Galinda pulled away from me, nodded, and dried her tears with the remaining tissue. Her once pale face was red and blotchy. The bruise fell on her right cheekbone and extended down towards her jaw. It was ugly and purple in colour and had dots of blood spread across the surface.

I took one dainty hand in my long, green one. I was surprised when, instead of protesting, she clutched her fingers around my palm as though she couldn't bear to let go of me. I led her out of the room and down the empty corridor, forgetting that my legs were longer and that I walked much faster than her. I soon realised she was dragging behind me. Sighing in frustration I slowed my pace and walked the rest of the way in a too-slow stroll. She followed me, always one pace behind and trembling the whole way.

Eventually we arrived and pressed the buzzer for night time service.

As the nurse fussed over Galinda's wound I leaned against the wall and stifled several very well-formed sarcastic comments pertaining to my tiredness and the ridiculous hour of morning. There was no real use in getting annoyed with Galinda when Fiyero was to blame, but that didn't temper the nagging notion that I would be taking a test tomorrow on a bad night's sleep.

I sniffed the clinical smell of the infirmary, so strong that both my skin and lungs felt sensitive in the cold, unwelcoming room. I breathed shallow breaths, praying that this wouldn't take too long, else blisters would begin to appear on my exposed face and hands. I usually avoided infirmaries, preferring to suffer whatever malady had befallen me rather than face the symptoms which drew attention to my water allergy.

Then a thought formed in the back of my mind that made me pause in my mental stream of insults:

Heartless.

I had been called it plenty of times by my classmates due to my complete lack of association with them. There hadn't been any point in trying to be friends, not when they were unable to see past the green skin. It was easier and more convenient to shut myself off and focus only on myself and my studies (and occasionally Galinda's dreadfully trivial prattle). Let them think I was a heartless, green being.

But when the thought came directly from myself it ripped through me strongly. Galinda was hurt and here I was silently moaning about what early hour of morning it was.

Perhaps that's what happens when you get called a mean green thing one too many times.

Thankfully the wound was dealt with swiftly and Galinda and I were sent back up to our room with instructions as to how to take care of it. Once again she clung onto me in a way which I found inhibiting, but I didn't bother to protest, not when her usually sparkling eyes were still terrified by the incident. I wrapped one arm around her waist and carefully guided her back upstairs.

It was three o'clock in the morning by the time we returned. She quickly stripped off her clothing and changed into a night dress and did as good a job as she was able of removing her make-up. Her physique was already small and slender but the pink silk night dress and bare face gave her the appearance of a little girl rather than a petite woman.

I was reminded of all the times I had tucked Nessarose into bed.

I sat by her bedside as she crawled under the covers. She looked up at me with a tiny pout on her lips.

'Elphie, I'm scared.'

I was momentarily thrown by both the lack of honorific and the use of a nickname, but what stood out more was the way it had just slipped out of her mouth, quiet and exposed, as though she had not meant to say it. A tinge of pink appeared on the cheek that wasn't bandaged.

I stroked her golden hair.

'I'm right here,' I replied, holding back a nickname which had wanted to pass my own lips. 'You can sleep safe. Fiyero can't get you here.'

Galinda nodded and closed her eyes. In a few seconds she was softly snoring and her face became impassive. I stroked her hair again and went back to my own bed, looking over at her just once more before switching off my bedside lamp.

'You can sleep safe, my sweet,' I murmured.