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“If you stopped being so self-absorbed, you’d have noticed all the noise you were making!” Elphaba grabs her book bag and shoots a glare across the room.
“Well, if you stopped being so conceited, you’d have joined in the fun!” Galinda grabs her own bag and shoots a glare of equal measure right back at Elphaba.
“Fun? Hah!” Elphaba’s eyes narrow even more if that’s even possible. “You have a very different definition of fun than I do.”
“I’ll say!”
How this spat began, Elphaba couldn’t quite pin down. Maybe it started with Galinda playing her music too loud. Maybe it was earlier than that, when Elphaba bumped into Galinda in the hallway. Maybe it was even earlier than that, when Galinda took the seat Elphaba always takes in Economics II. It’s always something small, but just big enough that they can yell and yell and yell about it.
However it started, their fights always tend to end the same: with both of them storming out of their dorm and heading their own ways. Who knows where Galinda heads off to—as long as it’s not near Elphaba, she could take a plane to another country for all Elphaba cares.
Elphaba takes the shortcut to the library. Through the garden, around the statue, and under the gazebo. Just the sight of the library calms Elphaba’s nerves. Talking to Galinda always leaves her heart beating too fast and her fingers twitching too hard. The library is a relief from it all, nothing but books and books and books.
Inside, Elphaba scans her ID and heads past the gates. She forgoes the elevator in favor of the stairs and takes it two steps at a time to the third floor. Weaving between students finishing up for the evening, Elphaba makes way for her favorite study carrel. Her stuff is set down with all the weariness of a traveler who’s been at sea for far too long.
It takes only a few moments for her to set up: her computer in front of her, her notebook in front of that, and her headphones on. Elphaba opens her laptop and navigates to Twitch. The homepage shows her tens of streamers it wants her to watch, but there’s only one Elphaba’s subscribed to, only one that Elphaba wants to see.
Elphaba clicks on PinkPrincess04’s stream and smiles at the familiar sight. Princess is working on her base, a quaint little cherry wood build. She’s focusing on adding buttons and trapdoors this time around. Elphaba navigates to the chat and sends, “hello. what are we doing today?”
It was a stroke of luck for Elphaba to find Princess. Elphaba’s tried a lot of streamers, big ones and small ones, because it’s the only thing her brain likes to hear when she’s studying. But no one ever scratched that itch in Elphaba. They were either too loud or too quiet, they were either too adventurous or too tame.
And then Princess’s stream was recommended. There were only three viewers, and Elphaba was losing hope. She would take anything at this point, and Princess turned out to be everything. She enjoyed taking her time to slowly expand her hardcore world, but didn’t shy away from combat.
Elphaba could lie and say that’s all it was, but Elphaba’s never been one for lies. Part of Princess’s appeal is that they became quick friends. With Elphaba being the only viewer to regularly tune in, it didn’t take long for ‘chat’ to just become ‘Elphaba.’ It took even less time for ‘Elphaba’ to become ‘friend.’
“Wicked Witch!” Speaking of. The voice changer crackles from the input. The screen shakes a little as Princess moves her mouse, excited to see Elphaba’s user. “I did a little bit of resource collecting, so I want to add some accents to my house. Then we’re hunting down a librarian with mending, because my gear is so worn.”
Elphaba’s learned so much about Princess over the year they’ve spent together, streamer and viewer: that Princess uses a voice changer because she’s paranoid about people discovering her; that they go to the same university and that Princess loves her major; that they both feel like outcasts in their day-to-day lives.
No one’s ever quite understood Elphaba like this girl she’s never met. Elphaba doesn’t think it’s too crazy to say the same is true for Princess. There’s a connection between them, and maybe the string that ties them is made out of pixels, but it doesn’t make it any less powerful.
Elphaba types: “oh, sounds like we’re in for a long night :)”
Princess giggles. “Yep! You studying?”
“yes, I have a quiz tomorrow and need to revise”
“Hope your roommate didn’t bother you too much?”
Elphaba’s told Princess about her troubles with Galinda. In return, Princess has told Elphaba about her own roommate troubles. They bonded over being forced to share a room with someone they completely detest. Whenever Elphaba tries to tell someone else, though, they say she should just switch rooms. But she can’t—thankfully, Princess understands.
Princess always just gets it.
“don’t get me started,” Elphaba types, opening her notebook. She needs to study, she really does, and she really will, but talking with Princess is a full-time job that Elphaba takes very seriously. “but it’s fine, I’m out of my room”
“Oh, me too. My roommate just… Ah!” The voice changer crackles against Princess’s yell, and Elphaba has to bite back a smile. “But we’re fine. We’re here together! I’m going to make so much progress, and you’re going to do absolutely wonderful on your quiz.”
Her votes of confidence always leave Elphaba warm. She begins to move again, placing blocks and moving her cursor. “And I was thinking,” Princess continues. “That maybe…we could talk about our roommate troubles in person?”
Elphaba drops her pencil. She looks around, as if someone’s going to tell her that she can’t see Princess, that she can’t say yes, that she has to exit the stream. But there’s no one there. There are only students who are too invested in their own studying to care about what Elphaba does.
No one can stop Elphaba. No one can tell her that it’s unsafe or that Princess is bound to disappoint her in person. The thing is that even if someone told Elphaba, she doubts she would care.
She doesn’t even realize that while she’s typing her response, she’s smiling.
They chose Friday—because neither of them has classes—and a bowling alley—because it has an arcade and booths for them to sit in—to meet up in.
Elphaba spends a lot of time in her closet beforehand just to end up in her signature black dress look. It’s simple, it’s clean, and it’s her—and she hopes that’s what Princess wants.
She arrives early at one of the booths and sets her book down on the table: her Dungeons & Dragons Player’s Handbook. Princess is a fan of cheesy rom-coms and said she’s always imagined having a blind date where her date brings something specific for her to find.
Elphaba found herself in a little dilemma: firstly, what would be the perfect object?. A flower would be too forward, too cheesy. Elphaba’s not looking to taint the first friend she’s made at university with presumptions. A book, therefore, is the perfect bit of personality, and her handbook is the right amount of nerdy.
Secondly, the fact that this is a date. Elphaba doesn’t want to ruin this with presumptions, but this is a date, isn’t it? Is there anything else it could be? Elphaba’s mind wants to say yes, but her heart says no. Her heart says there’s only her and Princess, and the rest of the world falls away. Then Elphaba’s mind tells her to stop being so dramatic.
Elphaba looks around. It’s early enough in the afternoon that most of the tables are full. That gives her the perfect view of the entrance, and yes, she’s staring, but who could blame her?
Maybe staring wasn’t the right move, though. Because there’s nowhere for her to look away when she makes eye contact with Galinda.
It’s like electricity sparks right between them. Instinctively, Elphaba’s face falls, and instinctively, Galinda’s face scrunches up. They regard each other for a few more moments before Elhaba snaps her head away, looking down at her book.
She busies herself with arranging the table, the flower in the middle, and the book to the perfect combination, anything to avoid Galinda’s gaze. Galinda doesn’t go about her day, though. She huffs, crosses the room to Elphaba, and places a fist on either hip. “Did you follow me here?”
“I got here first, didn’t I?” Elphaba doesn’t even look up as she speaks, willing Galinda to go away. She doesn’t want to fight. “I know logic isn’t your strong suit, but surely you can count.”
“You just have to insult me.”
“And you just have to accuse me.”
“Whatever,” Galinda huffs, tossing her hair over her shoulder. Elphaba’s gaze is dragged up against her will by the movement before she looks back down at her things. Galinda is a lot of things, but Elphaba refuses to let her be a distraction. “I’m waiting for someone, so don’t bother me.”
She chooses a booth across the room. It’s still in Elphaba’s line of sight, but Elphaba doesn’t pay her any more attention. Elphaba glances down at her phone; it’s a few minutes away from when Princess is supposed to arrive. The urge to text asking where she is is so strong that Elphaba has to physically set her phone down to restrain herself.
Princess is important to her; a joy in between the moments of mundanity, a break in between the moments of stress, a sun in between the stars. Though she doesn’t know what she looks like, though she doesn’t know what she sounds like, Princess is important to Elphaba all the same. She doesn’t want to rush this.
Okay, maybe Elphaba is paying Galinda a little bit of attention. But it’s not her fault when she’s just so distracting. After ten minutes of sitting, she gathered her purse and things and walked over to the table right behind Elphaba. But Elphaba doesn’t let her distract her any more than that.
Elphaba glances at her phone again. There’s no sign of Princess whatsoever, only Galinda. Elphaba, with a growing frown, types out: “where are you?”
It doesn’t take very long for Princess to respond. “I’m waiting!”
Elphaba looks up and around the room. No one is coming her way. Elphaba can be patient, that’s fine, but she feels embarrassment burn in the back of her face. If Princess stands her up…
Okay, maybe Elphaba does let Galinda distract her a bit. But it’s not her fault when Galinda gathers her things and dramatically flops in front of Elphaba. Secretly, Elphaba is grateful for the distraction. “Who are you waiting for?”
Elphaba sits up straight. Usually, their conversations evolve into arguments right off the bat. Starting friendly isn’t normal for them, and for some reason, Elphaba doesn’t like it. The fighting has become something of a bit, one that Elphaba enjoys. So she can’t help it when she answers, “Who says I’m waiting for anyone?”
Galinda pointedly raises an eyebrow. “Please, you keep looking at your phone.”
And really, Elphaba just can’t help herself when it comes to arguing with Galinda. “I really don’t see how that’s your business.”
Galinda puffs up. She’s about to explode, she’s about to call Elphaba a million names, she’s about to tell Elphaba how she’s the worst person on the face of the earth, and she won’t say that Elphaba should drop dead, but she sure is going to imply it.
Except she doesn’t do any of that. She deflates, sets her purse on the table, and looks down. “I’m just…nervous. Talking helps.”
Galinda’s gaze doesn’t rise back up. Elphaba looks down too, at the book she told Princess she’d bring. “Who are you waiting for?”
“Someone I’ve wanted to meet for a while. She’s a good friend.” The words, strangely, come haltingly. “And I want to make a good first impression.”
“Well, you’re absolutely wonderful at that.”
The first time they met, Galinda shrieked and acted as if she’d never seen someone who looked slightly different. If Elphaba was to give Galinda a charitable interpretation, Galinda was probably just startled that she had a roommate—she insisted later for months that she was supposed to have a private suite. But this is college; of course, she was bound to have a roommate in her first year.
“I am, aren’t I?” Galinda snickers and tucks some of her hair behind her ear. “How about we play a game while we wait?”
“A game?” Elphaba leans back against the booth and crosses her arms. “I didn’t take you for the type to play games.”
“Well, what type do you take me for?” Galinda leans forward on crossed arms. Her eyebrows are raised, as though she’s being playful, and Elphaba has no idea why she’s being so pleasant.
It’s…nice.
“The type to spend all her time obsessing over popularity and looks,” Elphaba answers honestly.
Just as honest, Galinda shoots back, “Well, I know you’re the type to spend all her time obsessing over studying and work.”
An argument is about to start. The niceness has gone away, and they’re about to start arguing, but Galinda stops it in its tracks. She places her hand over the Player’s Handbook and smiles gently. “But…that’s not really true, is it, WickedWitchoftheWestCoast?”
The two stare at each other for a few moments. In those moments, Elphaba paints a picture in her head: she imagines Galinda hunched over her computer, pink headphones on and ignoring the whole world, painstakingly going block by block and decorating her little world. That little world that Elphaba has spent countless hours admiring and exploring through the streams. That little world that’s become a second home to Elphaba.
Then, Galinda asks, “Who are you waiting for?”
Elphaba smiles. “I’m waiting for a good friend, too, PinkPrincess04.”
“Is she really a good friend?”
“Oh yes.” Elphaba’s smile turns gentle. “I would even call her my best friend.”
“Would you…like to call her more?”
“Who knows?”
Galinda smiles to herself, and silence stretches on for a few moments. “I know you weren’t expecting me,” she relents. “And…I wasn’t expecting you. So if you’d like…we can just leave now. Forget this ever happened.”
What an idea that is. Elphaba is tempted for a moment—only one—to take her up. They can continue arguing and acting like they hate each other’s guts, and then tell horror stories years down the line about their horrible roommate. And what a story it’ll be, tall tales of late-night pranks and disagreements and oaths to curse each other’s children.
And maybe that would be wise. Because the image of Galinda gaming and saying a year’s worth of lovely things to Elphaba doesn’t feel real. That feels like a lie, an illusion, one that Elphaba could easily swat away and return to her daily life.
But she can’t. With every argument, she’ll see a gentle girl instead of Galinda Upland. With every insult, she’ll see a reckless explorer instead of Galinda Upland. With every glare, she’ll see a friend instead of Galinda Upland.
Being friends doesn’t mean they won’t fight, though. They’ll probably bicker, they’ll probably berate, they’ll probably bitch. But then they’ll head to their computers and log onto their world together. Then they’ll leave each other diamonds as apologies, work on their cherry wood house together, and try not to scream as they explore the ancient city.
Maybe they don’t have to give up the bit of hating each other. Maybe it can be more. Maybe it can be Galinda laughing at Elphaba’s bad puns, and it can be Elphaba helping Galinda with her makeup. Maybe it can be Elphaba teaching Galinda Dungeons & Dragons and Galinda teaching Elphaba to dance.
Maybe…it could be them, the same, but in love.
And Elphaba doesn’t mind that one bit.
“Do you want to leave?” Elphaba asks instead. Because this means nothing if Galinda doesn’t want it all the same.
Galinda looks down. Maybe she considers saying yes, too. Maybe they’re about to go back to their separate ways, to their separate worlds, and forget this ever occurred.
Instead, Galinda looks back up. “Can I be honest, Wicked Witch?”
“Sure, Princess.”
“A part of me wanted it to be you. I wanted it to be you so badly.”
“Can I be honest, too?”
“Of course.”
“I think I actually believe you.”