Chapter Text
“The F Line to East Emerald City will be arriving in three minutes.”
The recorded voice echoed throughout the station. Rush hour had passed, but there were still plenty of people lingering about, waiting for the next train to arrive. The station was warmer than it had been in months; summer was approaching fast, and the heat was making it particularly stuffy in the lower levels.
Glinda was sitting (leaning) on her normal seat—which wasn’t really a seat, just the edge of a bench—that sat at the end of the platform. She sat (leaned) here every day as she waited for her train when she got off work. Her days tended to finish later than most of the others who worked in the heart of the Emerald City, but she didn’t mind. There were far less crowds and she never had to worry about finding a seat on the train.
She held a book open in her hand while she waited, a novel she’s tried to start about seven times now, but has never gotten past page 23. Glinda turned to page four (for the seventh time) and read the same paragraph a few times, but it just wasn’t sticking. She sighed and closed the book, jamming it back into her comically large purse, then picked at a loose thread on her skirt.
She turned to her right and watched a mother coo at a toddler sitting in a stroller. On her left, a teenaged couple were leaning against the wall at the end of the platform, whispering about Oz knows what. The girl giggled and stuffed her face into the boy’s chest. Suddenly, a sharp pang of loneliness hit her straight in the gut.
It’s not that she didn’t have anybody, she did. She had many coworkers she was friendly with, including two of her dear college friends, plus her parents. She had Fiyero, someone she dated so long ago that she only ever thought of him as “my good friend” and not “my ex-boyfriend.” Oz, she was even friendly with her 78-year-old neighbor Petunia, who would always bake her fresh loaves of bread with cute little flowers scored into the crust and leave them right outside of her apartment door in a cute little wicker basket. No, she wasn’t lonely in the sense that she didn’t have her people, but she suddenly craved something deeper than a simple friendship or parental love. Something more.
Glinda has pretty much always been a hopeless romantic, and she’s pretty sure she can pinpoint exactly when she became one. She’d never forget walking out to the living room as a young girl and seeing Momsie's eyes wet with tears as she watched a movie.
“Why are you crying, Momsie?” she asked as she rushed to her mothers side.
“This is just such a beautiful love story, duckie,” she’d answered with a sniffle.
The movie was almost over, but Glinda had begged to watch it, filled with curiosity. She’d cried about things before, sure—but crying over love? Love was supposed to be happy, according to ten-year-old Glinda. After a lot of pestering, her Momsie finally gave in and the two of them sat together on the couch the following week and watched the movie together. Everything suddenly made a lot more sense. Glinda cried along with her Momsie at the end, and though there were plenty of things the characters talked about that she didn’t understand back then, she knew one thing for sure: she wanted something like what the main characters had.
“The F Line to East Emerald City is arriving shortly.”
Glinda stood up straight, brushed off her skirt and adjusted her bag on her shoulder. She glanced back over at the teenagers, who were smiling and nuzzling into each other.
Glinda loved the idea of love, although she’d had to reshape and rethink what love actually meant back when she’d broken up with Fiyero. She knew what being in love was supposed to feel like (from the countless sappy movies and TV shows and music she consumed over the years), and she had been so awe-struck by Fiyero’s good looks and charm when they first met, she figured all the feelings she’d heard about would come eventually…they never did. There was never a spark, never a rush for Glinda. She and Fiyero did grow close, they got along well and enjoyed each other’s company. She liked him, being around him was easy. According to everyone else, they were the perfect couple.
But she wasn’t in love with him, as much as she wished she was. Glinda was eternally grateful when she ended things and Fiyero promised they could still be friends.
“You know I care for you, Glinda, and I always will. Maybe this is the way we were supposed to love each other all along.”
Still, it hurt to realize that she could have a man as perfect as Fiyero and still not fall in love with him. She stayed single during her final year of university, and it wasn’t until she entered the workforce that she started dating again.
It was a miserable affair.
It seemed every man she went on a date with was boring, trying too hard, a complete boor, or some horrid combination of the three.
“The F Line to East Emerald City is now arriving.”
Glinda stepped closer to the yellow safety line, looking down the tunnel at the bright lights approaching. Her hair blew wildly, a few strands getting stuck on her lip gloss. The teenagers who were leaning against the wall were now standing near her, their hands interlocked. She gripped her bag and prepared to board the train as it came to a stop.
The train wasn’t very full. There were plenty of seats to choose from, and Glinda plopped down in one of her usual spots against the window. She should try and read the book again, but the thought made her cringe. Maybe she should just give up on it entirely.
She crossed her legs. Picked again at the loose thread on her skirt. Adjusted her posture a bit. Then, with nothing else to look at, her eyes wandered to her fellow passengers.
There was the young couple, of course. The mother with the child. A well dressed man with a way-too-big moustache reading the paper. A woman hanging on to what looked like almost a dozen grocery bags, somehow. And then Glinda saw her.
A green woman. Green! Glinda rubbed her eyes just a tad before looking at her again. Yes, she was green; not sickly, but a beautiful emerald. Her facial features were sharp—defined cheek bones and jaw line. She had micro braids, pinned into an updo with a few strands framing her face. She wore a crisp, white button down shirt, and from what Glinda could see, black slacks. She wore glasses, and they had slid down to the tip of her nose as she looked down at a book. Glinda’s gaze wandered down to the woman’s lap, where her green hands (and long but perfectly manicured nails) held open a book.
The same book Glinda was reading. Well, trying to read.
The train rocked suddenly, snapping Glinda out of the daze the green woman had put her in. She shook her head a little and tried (she really did) to look elsewhere, but she had to look at her again. At least one more time.
She was rather pretty. Her clothes were clean and perfectly pressed, but plain. Her bag was sturdy and leather and although Glinda had only seen this woman for the first time mere moments ago, she felt like such a bag suited her.
“Now arriving at Veridian and Market Street”
The sound of the voice over the intercom once again pulled Glinda back into reality. Her commute wasn’t particularly long, but today it flew by.
She gathered her bag in her hand and stood, gripping onto a rail to steady herself as the train slowed to a stop. Unable to help herself, she looked at the green woman again, for the last time. She was still looking down, completely engrossed in her book.
The doors slid open and Glinda stepped out, walked up the stairs, past the panhandlers and street performers that always riddled the train stations, and took a breath of the thick city air. She stopped by the market and grabbed her mail before trudging up the stairs, and for some bizarre reason, the image of the green woman from the train kept flashing through her mind throughout her entire journey home.
She decided to think nothing more of it–she made herself a boring dinner, read a boring article, and listened to the late night talk show host interview a boring guest before she forced herself to go to sleep, where she’d certainly be met with boring dreams.
—-
Glinda had a shitty day at work the next day, and the day after that, but then it was Friday, thank Lurline. She’s written for the Ozmopolitan for fourteen months now, the same column every month. Glinda likes her job, she does–but she’s bored. She really shouldn’t be, because she has a lot of freedom when it comes to what she can write about. But she is, and she’d like to write deeper stories, maybe something for the cover. But considering her boss might be the most difficult person to impress in all of Oz, that wasn’t coming any time soon. Frankly, she’d been wanting to move on from the Ozmopolitan for a while now, but she wasn’t quite ready to take that leap yet.
Glinda feels like a sardine in a can as she moves through the crowd. Friday evenings always brought more passengers to the station, and she was going to miss her train if she wasn’t quick. She had to help a couple of tourists who were unsure how much the fare was, so she could get through to pay her own fare, and by the time she made it down to the platform, crowds of people were already waiting. She still made her way to her usual waiting spot, where another woman was already leaning on her seat. Glinda was annoyed by this—which she chalked up to her terrible day at work—but she stifled an eye roll and crossed her arms as it was announced that the train was arriving.
Thankfully, only a handful of people were getting on the F line, so she was able to find a seat. It wasn’t until Glinda sat down and ran her hands through her hair a bit before she looked up, and then her breath caught because there she was again.
She’d mostly forgotten the green woman by then. Work had demanded too much of her brain for her to have any time to think of her anyway, after being forced to rewrite her piece not once but twice, but now that she was here, sitting closer to Glinda than she had been the last time, Glinda’s heart inexplicably started to race.
She was here. Reading her book. Again.
For reasons she couldn’t explain, Glinda reached into her bag, and pulled out her own copy of the book that this green woman was so sucked into and set it on her lap. She’d had no intention of trying to read on the ride home today, but she opened it up, back to page seven, and propped it up just enough that the cover could be seen. Not that she cared if anyone saw it. Especially not the green woman.
Or at least that’s what she told herself.
She looked at the page for only a moment before she slid her eyes up, across the row to where the green woman was sitting. Her legs were crossed, and today she was wearing a long, grey skirt. Another button down shirt, light blue this time, and of course the same bag and glasses. Glinda could see golden rings, several of them, on both of her hands. Her fingernails tapped lightly on the back cover as she read.
Glinda gulped and looked back down at her own book, which still wasn’t managing to pull her in, but this time other factors were at play. She let her eyes wander, looking at the woman, then somewhere else on the train, then back to the woman again. Meanwhile, the green woman hadn’t looked up from the book in her lap once, just the same as a few days ago.
Glinda had never seen this woman before, and now she’d seen her twice in one week. Was she new to the city? Maybe a shift change, and she was taking the train at a different time now? She must work somewhere downtown, dressed like that. She looked professional, like she worked in one of the many high rise buildings in downtown Emerald City. Was she a business woman? No, maybe a lawyer? She looked so serious.
And why did Glinda care so much?
“Now arriving at Veridian and Market Street”
Glinda startled the voice over the intercom. Today’s ride went even faster than the first time she’d seen this mysterious woman who, for whatever reason, has Glinda completely intrigued. She hadn’t a clue why this woman fascinated her so; she could say it was the green skin, but was it that? At that moment, Glinda looked up at the people sitting around them. A few of them were also staring at the green woman, although not in a pleasant way. Suddenly she felt glad that the woman was paying more attention to her book (their book?) than the people around her.
The train stopped and Glinda stood, losing her balance slightly and taking a step forward, directly towards the green woman. And she finally looked up, right at Glinda.
The first thing Glinda noticed was her eyes were a brilliant green. Not the same color as her skin, but just as striking. Her eyebrows furrowed, as if she was offended that Glinda had accidentally stepped into her space, her bubble. Glinda felt herself raise her own eyebrows, and the woman’s expression softened slightly. Glinda then did what she felt was natural: she smiled. The green woman’s eyes widened, and she suddenly pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and looked back down at her book, and was she…blushing? Glinda couldn’t quite tell, what color does a green person turn when they blush?
She heard the doors slide open, but Glinda’s feet felt like they were glued to the floor. Why didn’t the woman smile back at her? What was that look for? She realized she was still standing in the middle of the train, looking down at this mystery woman, while most of the others who were getting off at this stop had already stepped onto the platform. She cleared her throat and hurried off the train, an embarrassed flush coating her face and neck.
Has she ever in her life been so fascinated by another person? A person she didn’t even know, no less? Her thoughts tumbled around in her head like shoes tumbling in a washing machine, clunky and loud. Glinda hurried up the steps and out onto the ground level, bumping shoulders with a man as she jutted across a busy street before the traffic signal turned.
It didn’t really matter anyway. It was unlikely she’d see the woman again next week. Seeing her twice this week was pure chance. But still, Glinda thought of her as she walked up the stairs to her apartment, as she made her usual Friday night dinner, as she watched the painfully predictable movie that was playing on the television, even as she brushed her damn teeth.
Glinda was getting annoyed with herself. She should not be fixating over a stranger like this.
She desperately needed a distraction. She thought for a moment, and before she slipped into bed, she padded out into her living room and slipped her hand into her purse, hanging from its usual hook by the front door. She felt her fingertips graze over the sleeve of the book and she fished it out, clutching it to her chest as if it were a precious keepsake and not a novel she’d neglected to read for weeks.
Once settled into bed, she took a deep breath, and cracked the book open. She turned to the first page.
If it was enough to keep the woman from the train’s attention for multiple days, it must be good, right?
Then she began to read.
—-
Glinda found herself reading all throughout the weekend. Turns out, things really started to pick up in the third chapter. She’d almost cancelled both her lunch plans with Crope and Tibbett and her shopping plans with Momsie, but Glinda hated to be the one who cancelled, so she pushed through.
She thought about the green woman more than she’d like to admit.
“I saw a green woman on the train this week,” she told her friends as she picked at her sandwich.
“I see ill people on the train all the time, Glinda,” Tibbett said, finishing up the bite he’d just taken. “It’s nothing out of the ordinary.”
“No, I mean, she wasn’t sick–well, I don’t think she was. Her skin was just…green. As green as the old Emerald Palace.”
“Hm,” Crope hummed, “how peculiar.”
The conversation moved on quickly. She enjoyed Crope and Tibbett’s company, as she usually did. Shopping with Momsie was pleasant enough. Come Monday evening, she was excited for the train ride home. She was looking forward to reading…and possibly seeing her again for whatever reason.
Glinda looked around as she boarded the train. There she was, nose in a different book now. Glinda walked over and sat right next to her, with the aisle separating them. She felt herself smile as set her book in her lap and tucked a few of her hairs behind her ear. She chanced a glance across the aisle, and much to her surprise, the woman was looking at Glinda. Not at her face, but at her lap. Specifically, the book in her lap.
Glinda suddenly felt like she should say something. Anything, ask her if she’s read this book (even though she obviously knows the answer already) or ask what she’s reading. Glinda inhales sharply, quickly through her nose.
“H-Have you read this?” Glinda asked, cursing herself for stuttering–she never did that. Glinda was usually composed. It was easy to talk to people, she’d been described as a social butterfly for as long as she could remember. But for whatever reason, this stranger, this woman on the train was making her nervous.
The green woman’s eyes snapped up to Glinda’s, clearly surprised that she’d been spoken to. She was silent for what felt like several clock-ticks, until she finally cleared her throat.
“Um, yes, I have, actually. I just finished it last week,” she sounded confused, like she hadn’t a clue why Glinda was talking to her.
Glinda’s stomach did a backflip as soon as she heard her speak. She wasn’t sure what to expect after their awkward interaction on Friday, and she wasn’t sure if the woman really wanted to talk to her or if she was just responding to be polite, but Glinda wasn’t going to waste this opportunity.
“Oh, I almost cancelled my plans over the weekend so I could finish it,” Glinda said with a laugh, “I’m hooked.”
Glinda was sure she was making a fool of herself, talking to a stranger like this just because she’d been looking at Glinda’s book. But thankfully, the green woman smiled at her. It was small, but it was a smile without a doubt. Glinda felt her own grin spread across her face.
“It is good. How many chapters do you have left?” the green woman asked, and Glinda watched as she bookmarked her own book and softly closed it, resting it in her lap.
”Six,” Glinda answered much too quickly.
The woman blew a breath out of her lips, and shook her head a little, still smiling. “Buckle up. That’s all I’ll say.” Oz, Glinda blushes slightly at this, and she feels so silly, it’s not as if the woman is flirting with her, she’s just talking about an Oz-damned book!
“Should I be scared?” Glinda asks, and the woman lets out a quiet laugh.
“Very.” The woman is still smiling, and oh, she’s got a tiny little gap right in between her two front teeth. Glinda, who is still smiling too, suddenly feels extremely grateful that she pushed herself to really dig into that damn book on Friday night.
“So,” Glinda continued, realizing she really didn’t want their conversation to end, for whatever reason, “what’re you reading now?”
The woman tilted the book in her lap, flashing the cover Glinda’s way.
“It’s a fantasy,” she explained, and now she was blushing, Glinda was sure of it.
“Quite the departure from this,” Glinda held up her own book, “no?”
The woman laughed again, and what a lovely sound it was.
“Quite. I’m not all that picky when it comes to reading.”
Glinda smiled at this, and then she was pulled from her reverie entirely when the intercom announced they were about to arrive at her stop. She sighed, and moved to put her book back into her bag.
“That’s me,” she announced, slinging the straps of her purse over her shoulder as she glanced back across the aisle. She wondered what her name was. The woman nodded quickly, but it looked like there were still remnants of a smile on her face. The train stopped, and Glinda stood to leave.
But she wanted to know her name. The woman she’s seen three times now on the subway.
Before she could second guess herself, Glinda extended out her hand and smiled her warmest, prettiest smile.
“Glinda,” she said, and the woman was stoic for a moment, her eyes wide like they were last week when Glinda had startled her, but then she lifted her hand and slipped it into Glinda’s. Her grip was firm and her hand was soft.
“Elphaba,” she said, and Glinda probably shook her hand a little longer than necessary, but she eventually let go. Elphaba. A name she’d never heard before.
“It’s nice to meet you, Elphaba,” Glinda said over her shoulder, scurrying towards the exit so the doors didn’t close before she could get off. When she stepped onto the platform, she turned back, the doors had closed and she couldn’t see the green woman, no, Elphaba, any longer.
“Elphaba,” Glinda whispered to herself as she walked down the corridor towards the staircase. Not only did she see her again, she talked to her, she made her laugh.
When Glinda got home that evening, she finished the book. The ending was unexpected, but certainly not bad. She was desperate to talk to someone about it, and for a moment she considered calling her coworker who had recommended the book to her in the first place, but it was a bit too late for that. So instead, she laid in bed, stared at the ceiling, and thought briefly about talking to the stranger (maybe acquaintance now?) on the train tomorrow before she drifted off to sleep.
—
She did see Elphaba on the train on Tuesday. She was sitting in the same seat from the day before. This time, when Glinda sat down next to her (from across the aisle, of course), Elphaba looked at her and lifted her hand, waving shyly.
Glinda immediately waved back and smiled. She tossed her bag down on the seat next to her and turned
“I finished it last night. Oz, you weren’t joking when you told me to prepare myself.”
They chatted about the book, and Glinda made Elphaba laugh again, and what a rush she felt when she did.
The ride ended too quickly, but she saw Elphaba again on Tuesday. She saw her on Wednesday, too. They talked about books and the proposition to increase the fare for the train, and even when Elphaba talked briefly about the weather, Glinda was on the edge of her seat, wanting more, wishing the train would break down for a bit so they could have just a handful more minutes to talk.
It’s not as if Elphaba was a chatterbox–that was mostly Glinda, but Elphaba listened, nodding along as Glinda spoke, interjecting when she felt like it.
When Glinda exited the train on Wednesday, she felt lighter, like she was floating home instead of walking.
Thursday, Elphaba was not on the train.
Glinda honest-to-goodness pouted when she boarded and didn’t see her. She wondered if she’d gotten into a different train car, or maybe she was staying late at work, wherever that was. Now that she no longer had a book to distract her, she simply sat in her seat. Picked at her cuticles, wondered which color she should paint her nails next. Similar to the many train rides she’d taken before Elphaba had appeared.
When she finally arrived at home, she was desperate for a distraction, so she called Fiyero. It rang once, twice, three times, and Glinda was about to hook her phone back on the receiver when he finally answered midway through the fourth ring.
“Hello?” he said, sounding somewhat out of breath, as if he’d been running around before picking up.
“Hey,” she said, “what’s got you all…pant-y? Did you just run a mile?”
Their exchanges were always full of playful banter, but Fiyero didn’t laugh.
“No,” he said, sounding uncharacteristically serious, “I’m actually getting ready for a date and I have no idea what to wear.”
Glinda’s eyebrows shot up to the top of her forehead. Fiyero simply did not care about what he wore–in his own words, he “always looks good,” but he still had a pretty decent sense of style. She’d never once heard him contemplate an outfit for anything. Especially for a date.
“My, my, Fiyero–this woman must have worked you into a complete tizzy if you’re worried about what to wear on a date with her.”
“You don’t understand, Glinda–I had to practically beg her to go out with me. I can’t mess this up.”
“Who is this woman?” Glinda asked suddenly, “I haven’t heard you mention anyone for a while.”
She assumed this had to be serious. Women did not reject Fiyero–he could have his pick of the litter, as ridiculous as it sounded. The thought of him begging anyone to go on a date with him was so bizarre she almost thought he was joking.
“She’s new to the office,” he said, and she could hear rustling on the other end of the line, as if he was taking off an article of clothing to try and put on a new one, “new to the city, actually. She’s a tough one to crack, Glinda. She actually said that she’d just go out to dinner with me but it wasn’t a proper date.”
“...so you’re not going on a date, just dinner with a colleague?”
Fiyero groaned.
“Technically, yes–but I know once we have some time alone together, she’ll change her mind. I’m positive about it. She wouldn’t have agreed if she didn’t have some degree of interest, right?”
Glinda wanted to argue with him, tell him to stop being ridiculous and pushing himself on this unsuspecting woman, but she knew him, and he’d be nothing but polite during this dinner. He simply was not the kind of man to overstep, or to be rude, he just wasn’t used to rejection. Still, she couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the fact that he genuinely believes this is a kind-of-date.
“I trust you’ll be the perfect gentleman, Fiyero,” she decided to leave it at that, “tell me about her.”
Glinda began to uncork a bottle of wine she’d picked up at the market, one of her favorite reds. She held the phone to her ear as she reached into her cupboard and retrieved a wine glass.
“She’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met,” he started, and Glinda could hear him smiling. “She’s new to the city, and she’s smart, a bit brash at times, a bit shy at others. You’d laugh if you heard the many ways in which she rejected me, at first.”
“She’s still rejecting you–she said it isn’t a date, Fiyero, are you that obtuse?”
“Yes, yes, but why would she agree to go to dinner if she didn't have some latent desire for me hidden away?”
Glinda sighed. This is why she loathed men. She tolerated Fiyero’s antics because, as she said before, she knows he’s a good guy–but he still had the ability to be absolutely insufferable when he wanted to be.
“Have you thought maybe she just wants a new friend, considering she just moved here?”
She could hear him shuffling around on the other end of the line before easily replying “We can be friends, but that doesn’t mean it’s all we have to be.”
Glinda scoffed and muttered “this poor woman doesn’t know what she’s gotten herself into.”
“Listen, Glin, I appreciate you calling, but I’ve got to finish getting ready, I’m already running late–”
“That’s a great impression to make, Fiyero. Late to your first not-date. I’m sure she’s going to be thrilled.”
“Relax, she’s meeting me at the restaurant right around the corner, I’m not going to be late-late. I’ll call you later, or tomorrow, and tell you how great it went because I’m sure it will. Then, who knows? Maybe you can meet Elphaba and I for lunch or something.”
Glinda suddenly felt very dizzy–like a bout of vertigo had hit her unexpectedly, she wasn’t quite sure–but her wine glass almost slipped out of her hands and she sucked in a harsh breath.
“El–what?” Glinda squeaked in disbelief, shifting on her feet and gripping the phone until her knuckles turned white.
“That’s her name. Sorry, I should have mentioned that. Anyway, we’ll chat later, Glin!” he said, and before she could say anything, he hung up the phone.
Glinda stumbled over to one of the chairs at her dining table, her mind still spinning, and she slumped into one of the seats. She set down her glass gently, and stared at the lipstick stain she’d left on the glass as her thoughts turned over and over and over in her mind.
Fiyero was going out to dinner with Elphaba. Elphaba from the train, Elphaba with the striking green eyes and long delicate fingers, Elphaba with the cute gap-toothed smile. Elphaba, who she’d barely known for a week but still consumed Glinda’s mind more than she’d ever admit out loud, was meeting Fiyero for dinner and that’s why she wasn’t on the train today.
It brought an acrid, unpleasant taste to her mouth the more she thought about it. Why did she care? She should be happy, or at least…pleased, right? If things did go well on this not-date, she would have a chance to see Elphaba somewhere other than the train. But thinking about hanging out with Elphaba and Fiyero, thinking about the two of them cozied up on the same side of a booth or giggling as they took bites of each other’s food while Glinda sat across from them and watched made her feel sick–nauseated, faint, all of it.
She decided to banish those thoughts entirely. She also decided she needed more wine.
Glinda pushed herself from the chair and winced at the horrid scraping noise the legs made as they dragged across her floor. She snatched up the wine glass and gulped the rest of it down, a droplet escaping from the corner of her mouth as she did so, before standing on her tiptoes to grab the wine bottle from where it sat atop her fridge. She pulled the cork out and poured herself another glass, this one much more generous than the first.
Glinda slinked into the living room, now even more desperate for a distraction than she had been when she’d first arrived home, but clicking through the mindless nonsense on her television wasn’t helping a bit. She could call her Momsie, or maybe Pfannee or Shenshen, but all she wanted to talk about was Elphaba, and it’d probably be incredibly bizarre for her to call just to rant about how her ex-boyfriend is going on a date with the woman she’d just met on the subway.
It was nonsensical, really. All of it–why should she care what Elphaba did, as if she really knew her? Could they even be considered friends if they’d had a handful of ten-to-twelve minute long conversations? They were just going out to dinner as friends, acquaintances, whatever. Glinda thought about Fiyero, because the feeling in her stomach felt suspiciously like jealousy, but she didn’t give a twig who or what Fiyero got up to, not in the slightest. He’d been on countless dates since they broke up and she never spared it a second thought. Then it occurred to her: she wasn’t jealous that Elphaba was seeing him.
She was jealous that he was seeing Elphaba, and that was the most nonsensical part of it all, wasn’t it? It was absurd, as a matter of fact.
Glinda drank two more glasses of wine to drown out her thoughts and hoped her mind would be better tomorrow. She ended up passing out on her couch, blonde hair splayed out over one of the pink throw pillows, but not even in sleep was her mind free, because her dreams were filled with the clacking noise of train tracks and golden rings on green fingers.