A/n: Alrighty, folks. Here we have a random fic I wrote, and...well, It was supposed to be a oneshot, but my beta, MissBonhamCartersPoppet convinced me to try and make it more. So, here it is, and if you all think I should, I will attempt to continue it and make it into my very first Wicked chapter fic.
Or it can stay as a oneshot. Either way.
Thanks for reading, and review!
Every day, in class, I stare at the back of her head.
The head belongs to a certain girl. My roommate, the most popular girl in school, and most importantly, the girl who I am supposed to hate. It's so hard to hate her, though, to really loathe her. The sweet smell of expensive perfume emanates throughout the room, and I sigh inwardly. It's a lovely smell, Galinda's perfume.
Every day, she sits in front of me. Always in the same spot. Most of the other students in our class shift about each day, sitting in different seats, depending on how early (or late) they arrive.
Galinda, however, always sits in the same spot. First row, three seats from the center. Sometimes I wonder what makes her choose that particular seat. Perhaps she enjoys taunting me. Every so often, she tosses her hair a bit, causing me to swoon with affection. Her golden curls fall around her cream shoulders in a way that is...completely frustrating. Yet I live for it.
Dr. Dillamond has certainly noticed my lack of enthusiasm for the subject being taught today; he has called on me twice, and both times, I've uttered a moronic "huh?" to him. He looks at me now with confusion.
It's really no secret that my grades have been dropping, especially in this class. Ever since Galinda came waltzing into my life, I've had trouble focusing on even the simplest of things. I lean forward slightly, imagining what it would be like to run my fingers through those golden curls. She probably wouldn't let me, I think with a laugh, even if she did love me enough.
I mentally chide myself. Galinda love me? Impossible. It would be like Nessa being able to walk, or Fiyero growing half a brain. Unlikely.
Without warning, Galinda turns around with a toss of her hair, and I pretend that I haven't been watching her this whole time. Out of the corner of my eye, however, I manage to glimpse Galinda throw a huge smile at Fiyero, which practically burns my insides.
Fiyero grins back, winking. I stifle the urge to vomit. What she sees in him, I'll never know. She turns back around, and I resume staring at the figure that is perfection.
I feel a tap on my shoulder. Turning around, I glare at Fiyero, who must have been the one to bother me. "Elphaba," he whispers, "try not to drool."
I glare at him some more, raising an eyebrow. "I've no idea what you mean."
He grins. "You can't stop looking at Galinda. Listen, Elphaba, I think she's gorgeous, and I know you do too, but she's my girlfriend. Okay?"
I shake my head, looking at him blankly. "Fiyero, stop thinking." With that, I turn back around in my seat, chewing on my pencil.
I can hear Dr. Dillamond's voice vaguely in my mind. He's lecturing about...something, but I've no idea what it is. Leaning forward in my chair once again, I strain to see over Galinda's shoulder. She's writing notes.
Actually taking notes. Impossible.
I smile, sort of proud. Though she hates me, and I pretend to hate her, I'm glad to see that Galinda's actually started to use her intellect. Usually, she pretends to be an airhead, but I know there's much more to her.
My smile dissolves as I see what is scrawled in her notebook. Mrs. Fiyero Tiggular, she's written over and over with her signature pink pen. Surrounding each name are hearts and stars and other sickeningly flowery symbols.
Dr. Dillamond looks sharply at me, for once. "Elphaba, is there some sort of problem?"
Well, possibly...if you count the problem of me being in love with my roommate who has a boyfriend...
He nods. "Good, then, I assume you've been paying attention to my lecture on The Great Drought."
I mentally fumble around for information about the topic; I know about The Great Drought, I've read books on it, but somehow I can't think of anything. My brain has turned to mush, and Galinda, who has now turned and is staring right at me, is not helping.
I shake my head slightly, blushing up a storm. "Sorry, Dr. Dillamond."
He clears his throat. "Very well, Miss Elphaba, I'll need to speak with you after class."
I look down, my cheeks darkening even more with embarrassment. I hear a few snickers and giggles echo throughout the room, and Galinda just looks at me, shaking her head. She turns around again, shoulders square, legs crossed properly at the ankles.
I slump down further in my seat.
Finally, as class is dismissed, I gather my books and folders, holding them tightly to my chest. As students file out of the room, I make my way to Dillamond's desk. Someone trips me on the way, and I stumble a bit, wanting to disappear as I see Galinda standing in front of everyone, her perfectly shaped lips pulled into a smirk.
I look up, glaring at all of them. I pull myself to my feet, collecting my books and things. Most of the students have left by now, bored with harassing the artichoke, but Galinda is still standing in front of me, her face unreadable.
I look at her questioningly, and she looks at the folders on the ground. She picks up the green one, looking from me to it.
As if in slow-motion, she hands the folder to me, and our hands brush accidentally. I meet her crystal blue eyes, and she quickly pulls her hand back, her eyes wide with- what is it? Recognition?
Though I may have imagined it all.
Proving my theory, Galinda steps back, tossing her hair. "See you later, artichoke," she sniffs, turning on her high heel. Is it my imagination, or do I hear a bit of kindness in her voice, beyond all of the obvious snobbishness?
I roll my eyes, holding the folder in my hands, and returning it to the stack of books in my arms.
Turning to a questioning Dr. Dillamond, I shake my head. Impossible.
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