Glinda rolled her shoulders back, stretching out the tension of an hour of sitting in the same position. “Types of muscle tissue?”

“Cardiac and skeletal,” Elphaba called back.

“Smooth and skeletal,” corrected Glinda, “because cardiac is-“

“Both, right. True or false: you need to set wards on a transformation spell.”

“False.”

Elphaba reached down for her coffee and took a sip. “How about on a sleep spell?”

“Hey!”

“Just answer it.”

Glinda made a face at her roomie. “Yes. True. Myosin is found where?”

“Skeletal muscles, thicker filaments.”

Glinda stretched her legs over the side of her chair and leaned against the opposite wing, reaching down for her own cup of coffee. “And the thinner ones?”

“Actin. What should you not do, under any circumstances, when attempting a spell?”

“Try to fix your hair.” Glinda giggled. “No, Miss Elphie, I’m joking,” she said, in response to the green girl’s incredulous look, and shifted a sheet of notes. “Ozma the Warrior conquered the emerald mines in the Glikkus in what year?”

“1408. Is it harder to work magic on a vertebrate or an invertebrate?”

“Vertebrate. Let’s take a break, Miss Elphie, remembering things makes my head hurt.”

“Better now than during the test,” said Elphaba, but put Glinda’s notes down and tilted her head to survey the drawings on the side of the page, picking up her coffee. She sipped and grimaced. “Ick, it’s gone cold.”

“You can have mine if you want,” Glinda offered. “I don’t mind cold coffee.”

Elphaba shook her head. “Thanks, but no thanks. I don’t use sugar, and you use too much.”

“I do not!” protested Glinda. “How do you know how much sugar I put in my coffee anyway?”

“Because you left your coffee on the table once and I thought it was mine.” Elphaba made a face, remembering. “How can you even stand that?”

“I suppose I got used to it,” said Glinda absentmindedly. “It tastes bad, otherwise. I don’t know. Maybe the milk absorbs it all, or something.”

“I still think it’s too much,” said Elphaba absently, peering at the margins of Glinda’s paper. “You’re quite a good artist. What does this say? Dancing- what?”

Glinda blushed. “Dancing frogs. It’s something my cousin once said to me.”

Elphaba picked up her coffee cup and looked at Glinda over it. “How old is your cousin?”

“She was two the last time I saw her,” said Glinda. She giggled, remembering. “She was telling me this story about how all the frogs come out at night and dance, and that’s why the plants are all wet in the mornings. And my father was sitting on the other side of her, and he was laughing, and I remember I was so mad at him because of course I couldn’t laugh at her.” She picked up her coffee and took a sip.

Elphaba, now too involved to care about her cold coffee, drained it. “What was your house like?”

“Big,” said Glinda dreamily, “and the bricks were this pale grey stone with little sparkles in it that always caught the sunlight. Around the back we had a pearlfruit tree, over a terrace, and if it was a clear day and there wasn’t a train through you could see clear to Rount Munchible-“

Elphaba giggled. “Rount Munchible?”

“I mean- Mount Runchible! Runcible!” But Glinda was gone now, giggling uncontrollably over her coffee.

“Mount-“ Elphaba gasped, trying to speak through her laughter. “Mount Munchable!”

“The perfect place- to have a picnic!” Glinda could barely speak for laughing.

“Rount Munchables,” laughed Elphaba, “the new snack food craze!”

“Crackers with mountains on them,” agreed Glinda after a moment, once their laughter had subsided into giggles and they could speak again. “Oh goodness, Miss Elphie. Rount Munchables.” She giggled.

“It’s a good business opportunity,” said Elphaba wryly.

“You know, Miss Elphie-“ Glinda sat back down in her chair. “So many other people, I’d be afraid that they’d take a silly slip like that and use it to make a mockery of me.”

“You don’t think I would?”

Glinda shook her head. “No.”

Elphaba was quiet. “You’re right,” she said finally. “I wouldn’t.”

Glinda dared to ask, “Miss Elphie, do you believe the same of me?”

“I- yes, I do,” said Elphaba, hesitant. “It’s a learning process. When you- well, when you’re me- it’s difficult to trust anyone.”

“I hope you can learn to,” said Glinda sincerely.

Elphaba surveyed her friend, her head tipped to one side, eyes bright as a bird’s. “Not everyone is to be trusted, Miss Glinda. But I think I can learn to trust a few.” She smiled warmly.

Glinda sat back. “Who?”

“Who?”

“Yes. Who?”

“Well. You.” Elphaba ticked them off on her fingers. “Doctor Dillamond. Boq.”

“Why me?”

Elphaba looked up at her. “Why not?”

“That’s not an explanation.”

“Miss Glinda,” said Elphaba, shaking her head, “you are far too demanding. I don’t know why I trust you. But I do.”

“Truly?” Glinda was surprised.

Elphaba sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “It’s complicated. Can we do this another time? After exams, at least?”

“Miss Elphie, you’re changing the subject.”

“How observant. Yes, I am.”

“You aren’t any fun,” Glinda said to her, rising. She stood, stretched her arms. “Want some more coffee?”

“Not if you’re getting it,” said Elphaba, making Glinda laugh. “I’ll go later. We can take shifts, to make sure nobody steals our precious notes.”

“Good plan.” Glinda, halfway out the door, turned and assumed a dramatic pose. “Never fear, I shall return!”

Laughing, Elphaba waved goodbye to her, then looked down at the paper she still held. She tilted it sideways- there seemed to be letters twisted in with the drawings, but she couldn’t make them out. She shrugged and replaced them on Glinda’s chair, taking back her own notes.

--

“Miss Glinda!”

The name caught Glinda’s ear and she stopped to look through the doorway. Pfannee, Milla, and Shenshen were seated in a small circle of chairs, books open on their laps but unread.

“Come study with us, dear,” said Shenshen. “We were just talking about what it must be like for you, with her- so boring!

“We can hardly imagine that she talks at all, she’s always reading,” put in Pfannee. “Go get your books, and come back and sit with us.”

Glinda hesitated. “No thanks,” she told them. “I’m almost done with a chapter, I just thought I’d stretch my legs. Maybe in a little while?” She continued past them, quickly, without saying goodbye.

It was late, she noticed with a shock and a yawn, as she glanced up at the clock on the wall of the buttery. When she got back- Pfannee’s door was shut now- she found her notes back on her chair and Elphaba asleep in hers, a notebook about to fall from her hand. With a smile, Glinda put down both cups of coffee- one with sugar, one without- rescued the notebook, and gently shook her roomie awake. “Wake up, Miss Elphie. It’ll hurt your neck if you sleep like that.”

Elphaba woke quickly, almost frantically, before she realized where she was and relaxed. She sat up. “What time is it?”

“Late enough,” Glinda told her. “We should’ve both been in bed a while ago.” She giggled as Elphaba tried to speak and yawned instead. “See, Miss Elphie? There is such a thing as studying too hard.”

Elphaba laughed, but sleepily. “Point taken.” She went to go change into her nightgown; Glinda took her own and went down the hall. As she returned, Elphaba set her things down on her desk and went to stand near her bed.

“Miss Glinda-“

“Yes?” Glinda, piling up her books, didn’t miss the almost anxious-sounding edge in the green girl’s voice.

“If you’d prefer, I- you don’t need to call me Miss. Just Elphaba is fine.”

Glinda turned to look at her, surprised. “All right. I’d like that,” she added. After a moment, she said, “If you’d like, you can just call me Glinda.”

Elphaba smiled. “Good night, then, Glinda.”

“Fresh dreams, Elphie,” Glinda told her, and turned down the light.

So many years my heart has waited- who’d have thought that love could be so caffeinated?

There was a thunderstorm here last night! It made me think of you all, but this chapter wasn’t done and I cannot write slash in a thunderstorm. And now that I’ve finished it, it seems so long…

Thank you so, so much, everyone who reviewed! I love reviews. Really, I do. -hint hint- I try to reply, but if I missed yours, don’t feel bad.

I haven’t got many more ideas for what’s going on in this. Do you?