Glinda finished work late again, but for once she had neither her boss, nor any of her co-workers to blame. She'd stayed behind entirely out of her own volition, trying to make the most of her time while waiting for a certain green-skinned someone to pick her up.
She knew she'd never be able to make it up to Fiyero—first her sudden ambush at his own place on Sunday night, then yesterday evening's impromptu long distance therapy session that had lasted well past midnight. Not to mention all those other things he'd done for her over the past years, but how was she supposed to even begin keeping track of all those? Besides his hermitic streak, the man was simply too perfect to be true.
His words had encouraged her more than she could possibly have hoped. Of course he'd started by telling her that it was okay if her romantic feelings were fickle and fading. As a more or less content aromantic, she'd half expected that of him and was prepared to fully ignore him; not because she didn't consider it a valid and wholesome identity for some people, but because she was stubborn that way and not yet willing to give up on her own future in romance that easily.
He'd then moved on to ask about more details, taking all of her confessions regarding Elphaba in a stride without even once pointing out that he'd told her so weeks ago. Acknowledging that he'd been aware of hardly more than the tip of the iceberg, he conceded that it was unlikely (albeit not impossible) that Glinda was on the aro spectrum and instead suggested that she might have been under so much pressure and stress those last few days, that it would be by no means surprising that everything else had faded to the background for some time.
Now that was an argument Glinda could accept. Everything that had followed was little more than drawn out small talk, seasoned with a bit of pep talk and some good old gallows humour. Before going to sleep, despite the late hour, Glinda had sent Elphaba a message, offering as much help as she needed, or at least as much as she would be able to provide outside of her workhours. She'd waited several minutes after that for a reply, which naturally did not arrive until early the next morning.
And now, as she finally left the office, Elphaba was there, getting out of her car to greet her.
"Hey," the taller girl said, a lopsided grin on her lips.
"Hey," answered Glinda and almost blushed.
Elphaba wasn't aware of the significance of this moment, but Glinda couldn't stop thinking about how this one decision she'd made last night would change everything. For the better, she hoped. She'd give herself and Elphaba a chance. She'd take it slow, of course, testing the waters carefully before making the next move. But she wouldn't hold back anymore for any reason other than Elphaba's objection.
It didn't take long for Elphaba to become somewhat suspicious.
"You seem cheerful today?" she remarked, casting her a fleeting side glance as she drove.
Glinda's face flushed hot then, and her smile faltered for a split-second, only to widen into a silly grin.
"It's nothing," she declared with a shrug. "Or at least nothing in particular. Do you mind that I'm happy?"
"You think I'm that miserable?" Elphaba gave a soft scoff and shook her head in amusement. "No, of course not. I'm glad. If I had to venture a guess, I'd say your reunion with your mum went well?"
Glinda almost burst into a fit of mirthless laughter.
"By Oz, Elphie! You've never—and I mean it—never been so wrong."
"That bad, hm?" asked Elphaba gently, brows knitted.
"Yes, but please don't ask."
Glinda desperately hoped that she wouldn't enquire any further. She hadn't even meant to bring it up at all. She'd made her peace with it all the moment she'd decided to pursue her feelings for her friend, and there was no reason whatsoever to give new life to those miserable emotions. All she wanted to concentrate on was how good it felt to be back at Elphaba's side, almost carefree in her cautious optimism, hopeful that everything would work out one way or another. Her heart may have been beating a little out of rhythm, but seeing as she wasn't going to declare her undying love any time soon, there was really no objective cause for it.
Upon their arrival at the Thropp residence, Glinda received a rundown of the things that Elphaba had worked on over the weekend and a very long list of tasks that still needed to be done.
"We'll have seven guests staying with us," explained Elphaba, "one in each guestroom."
Glinda looked at her, confused.
"But you've got six proper guestrooms and two converted staff rooms. That's eight."
Elphaba busied herself with the folders she'd brought home from work, spreading them out on the table and re-stacking them in a particular order.
"Yeah, well, the Lilac suite is yours," she replied distractedly, not taking the time to look up.
A fuzzy feeling spread through Glinda's stomach, though she couldn't quite determine its source.
"Oh, okay," she almost stammered. "But it's really no problem if you need the space. I wouldn't mind."
Finally putting her files aside, Elphaba leaned against the table and crossed her arms.
"I just thought you might be free to stay over that weekend." She cleared her throat a little. "To help?"
Glinda grunted a laugh. She needed to curb Elphaba's expectations before it was too late.
"I don't know about that yet, Elphie. I can't predict my workload that far in advance."
"Don't you do most of your homework on your laptop? I do have WiFi here, you know? As well as power outlets—everything for your workaholic needs."
"Like you're the one to talk," Glinda waved off.
The truth was that the thought of staying at Elphaba's overnight was always tempting, and if there was indeed no private suite for her, she'd happily suggest that a cot in Elphaba's own room would do just fine. Although that was probably a risk she should not take like... ever. Unless their friendship had already evolved into something else, but that debate was neither here nor there at this point.
For the next three hours, they worked diligently, which did not mean that there was no room for idle conversing and indulgent snacks. At some point, Elphaba disappeared briefly, then returned with a bottle of wine.
"I don't think alcohol will help increase our efficiency," giggled Glinda as she watched her friend pouring herself half a glass and double the amount for her. "And why the hell are you trying to get me drunk while you stay sober? Let's have it! What's this sinister plan of yours?"
"My plan," replied Elphaba, handing her the drink with a playfully suggestive look on her face, "is to drive you home after dinner without crashing the car in the process."
Glinda got back home around half past nine. She was exhausted, but well fed and all around content with her life choices. Oz, she hadn't felt this invigorated in years. The sudden change in her mood seemed to baffle even her flatmates: Crope ventured to ask whether she'd won the lottery, while Tibbett only managed to stare at her as though she'd grown a second head. The only answer Glinda was willing to give them was a half-shrug and a little wink.
* * *
On Wednesday, Elphaba was able to pick her up earlier, just around the time when everyone else began to leave the office. She took her to a wholesale warehouse where they stocked up on canned and frozen foods, bulk packs of snacks and drinks, as well as some toiletries. Back at Mennipin Street, they stowed away the food and began to distribute everything else among the guest quarters. It was Glinda's task to arrange everything nicely and to make changes to the rooms' décor as she saw fit, while Elphaba gathered and allocated bed linen and towels, leaving them in piles on the beds for her maid to deal with.
"Brrr is going to drop off Chistery tomorrow," she mentioned as they ate their vegetarian pasta in cream cheese sauce. "He's going to stay the weekend."
Glinda looked up and paused.
"But that's Thursday. Are you going to call in sick on Friday?"
"No need. I already told Avaric that I'll work from home."
"Huh." The blonde pursed her lips for a moment, then picked up another forkful of food. "Sometimes working for him doesn't even sound that bad."
"He's still and ass," Elphaba was quick to assure her. "And I hope no one else tries to get away with the stuff that I pull on him. Suffice to say, I have a certain leverage over him."
"Yeah, I've always wondered about that," said Glinda, resting her chin on the palm of her hand.
"Every woman needs to shroud herself in a smattering of mystery, and this is mine. I'm not going to disclose my secrets."
Glinda laughed.
"Coming from you, this can only mean that the answer is much simpler than you let on. Let me guess: His Eminency pays him to let you work at TMB."
"No," Elphaba replied firmly. "But close enough."
"What? You're still not going to tell me?" protested Glinda, but to no avail.
* * *
Over the next couple of days, they talked decidedly less than before. Elphaba seemed exceedingly busy with phone calls and emails, while Glinda nannied Chistery. They spent most of the time in different rooms, since keeping quiet wasn't exactly the Monkey's strongest suit. On the first evening, Elphaba made sure to make Glinda comfortable in the drawing room, providing her with wine and entertainment on the TV before leaving to get Chistery ready for bed. On Friday, however, she studied her briefly, tilted her head, and suddenly decided on asking her to join them upstairs, so she could teach her the ropes of Chistery's evening routine.
On Saturday morning, Glinda was roused from her sleep by a terrible ruckus on the second floor. Without too much backlog from work to deal with, she'd more or less reluctantly agreed to stay over the weekend—a decision she now almost regretted. The noise clearly came from Chistery's room, and since she somehow felt responsible for him after spending so much time on his care, she dragged herself out of her bed to investigate.
In the hallway, she met Elphaba, clad in an oversized t-shirt and boxer shorts. Her legs looked longer and thinner without their usual cover, if that was even possible. On the other hand, they were incredibly toned, which left Glinda puzzled. She didn't remember her mentioning anything about working out, nor had she ever seen any evidence of it whenever she'd stayed at her house. Her eyes lingered longer than they probably should have; she knew it wasn't a sight she was likely to behold again any time soon. As a late riser, she was used to first encounter Elphaba fully dressed in the kitchen.
"It's half past five," Elphaba sighed before Glinda could do as much as say 'Good morning.' "Go back to bed," she urged with a little shooing motion of her hand. "I've got this."
Glinda considered objecting. She wanted to help, but she could also see how her presence could easily have the opposite effect on the little Monkey. At any rate, Elphaba knew what she was doing, and Glinda did not, so it was probably better to leave it to the pro.
She yawned a meek "Okay," and returned to her room.
After breakfast, they set out to pick up programme flyers from the print shop. Glinda had volunteered to get Chistery ready, but she was struggling. Booster seats were mandatory for any Animal under a certain height, no matter their age. Chistery, given his unpredictable nature, needed to travel in a full-fledged child restraint system. Figuring out the number of straps and buckles for the first time would have been a challenge in itself, even without his constant thrashing and squirming. Elphaba did not ask if she needed any help, nor did she take over to sort out the mess. What she did do, was to give Chistery a stern look, followed by a cookie to momentarily distract him from struggling.
Brrr showed up mid-afternoon on Sunday to pick up his fosterling. Elphaba invited him to stay for tea, but he seemed to be in somewhat of a rush.
"Do we actually have any pastries at home?" Glinda asked half joking after closing the front door. Coming to think of sweet treats, she did feel a little peckish.
"Sure," answered Elphaba, one of her brows arched, and the corner of her mouth curled. How could Glinda dare question her plentiful supplies? "How about you hop downstairs and check in the chest freezers?
Glinda was happy to comply, and soon, they sat together with a nice cup of hot tea and tiny, delicious berry tartlets.
"Elphie, you're spoiling me," Glinda giggled as the other girl placed another piece of pastry on her plate. She was delighted for sure, yet also a tat nervous. It troubled her that she had no way of telling whether Elphaba was simply less hungry than her or purposefully curbing her own appetite so she could relinquish the lion's share to her. Maybe she should have been less obvious in showing her enthusiasm for the little treats.
"Well, I owe you big time," said Elphaba. A smile flashed across her face, but it faltered quickly. Glinda noticed her fingers fidgeting before she reached out to pick up the tea pot and refill her cup. "I'm thankful," she continued then. "I really am. I also keep wondering though, why you'd sacrifice so much of your time and energy for this."
"Is that something that keeps you awake at night?" Glinda teased lightly. She didn't feel light at all. The food in her stomach seemed to magically have turned into lead.
"I know it's not about the cause." Glinda's mouth opened, but she stopped short when Elphaba lifted her hand. "I'm sure you care more now than you used to, and I'm happy with that. You care about Chistery. A lot. That much is obvious. But I haven't turned you into an Animal rights fanatic just yet."
"Yeah, not quite," agreed Glinda softly. "But you're my friend."
Scoffing, Elphaba threw her hands in the air.
"Heck, Boq is my friend, but have you seen him dragging his ass here recently? He did promise to help next Friday, but otherwise he's busy, apparently. I know you're busy, too. Last night I was on my way down to the kitchen when I saw light under your door and heard typing. You were working, right?"
"Yes?" Glinda shrugged. "Y-you told me to. To stay and just work from here, I mean." Oz, now she made it sound like Elphaba was forcing her or something. "I mean, I know I don't have to, but I like to?"
"But why?"
The heavy feeling in Glinda's abdomen was slowly replaced by a nervous, tingling sensation. She wished she hadn't just eaten so much.
She tried to breathe deeply without making it too obvious. What kind of confession was Elphaba trying to tickle out of her? Or was she merely being paranoid? What if her friend's questions were entirely innocent in nature?
"I like spending time with you," she eventually replied, trying her best to sound nonchalant. Then, she smiled her most lovely smile. "Is that a crime?"
Elphaba stared at her for a long moment, but dropped her enquiry at last.
Despite the remaining upset in her digestive system, Glinda finished her last tartlet to create a valid reason to conclude their tea break. Even without Chistery, they ended up working in separate rooms, but it worked out for the better in the end.
By the time dinner rolled around, any residual tension between them had faded. Elphaba cooked up a quiche—a dish she knew Glinda wasn't too fond of. It had too much broccoli and tasted too eggy for her liking. The worst for her was the half smooshy, half silky texture. She couldn't really explain it, but it made her palate cringe. That being said, it wasn't even nearly as bad as having to swallow her own culinary output. It just wasn't as delectable as Elphaba's other dishes. The interesting bit was that it made her feel more at ease, knowing that Elphaba was not actively trying to please her. She couldn't help but wonder whether it was a fluke or all part of a carefully calculated plan.
When it was time to drop her back home, Elphaba walked her all the way to the door. Glinda pulled out her key, then looked up to her, beaming. Parting ways with Elphaba was something she usually dreaded, but knowing how soon they'd meet again, there was no cause for gloom. In fact, she was surprisingly close to actually believing that absence could indeed make the heart grow fonder. As long as said absence did not last longer than twenty-four hours or so.
"You look tired," remarked Elphaba. "More like Friday afternoon haze than weekend glow." It wasn't very flattering, but on the upside, Glinda appreciated her concern. "You know, you could just take a day off tomorrow," Elphaba suggested, rubbing the back of her neck and shifting her weight from one foot to the other.
Glinda's smile shifted into a pout.
"No. Way."
Her arms crossed almost automatically, her eyes narrowed and sparkled with determination. She noticed the movement of Elphaba's throat as she swallowed hard.
"Oh. Okay," she said, almost as if Glinda had yelled at her. "Same time as always then?"
"Same time," confirmed Glinda with a curt nod.
* * *
The following week passed in a blur. Elphaba dealt with merchants and caterers; the theatre group had run into some scheduling problems, and Elphaba worked her tail off to solve their issues; the portaloo provider cancelled unexpectedly, and she had to book another company from outside the capital—apparently, many event related businesses were concerned about incurring the Wizard's wrath, fearing they might lose important contracts if they associated themselves with groups that dared to voice their discontent with the government. Glinda began to wonder whether Elphaba was the only person working on this project, considering how much she had on her plate.
Amidst all the madness, there was no time left for peaceful cooking sessions and chatty dinners. From now on it was takeout pizza and instant noodles all the way, devoured mid-work, without much appreciation for the food they ate. Glinda counted the days; even her love for Elphaba couldn't fuel her forever.
Saturday afternoon, Elphaba's guests arrived via shuttle bus. Most of them were public speakers or representatives, here to give speeches and participate in panel discussions. One, however, stuck out. He was a Cheetah with smooth looks and a guitar case in tow. While everyone else honed in on Elphaba to thank her for her hospitality, he approached Glinda instead, a skewed, confident grin on his face.
"Hey there. I'm Calive, singer-songwriter from Ev.
She hesitated before accepting his paw to shake it. Mustering her best smile, she hoped he wouldn't consider her moment of reluctance as instant evidence that she was a specieist.
"Glinda," she replied, giving his massive paw a firm squeeze. "I'm, uh, Elphaba's friend."
"Friend or friend?" he immediately demanded to know. Recognising the thinly veiled shock in her eyes, he chuckled. "I merely like to gage my chances from the get go. Saves me from disappointment as well as embarrassment, right?"
She was unable to tell whether he was being serious or making a joke at her expense. Though she liked neither of these options, she still very much prayed it was the latter. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the other Animals entering the house. Relieved, she suggested they should do the same.
Dinner was a complicated affair. Elphaba did her best to cater to all the different dietary requirements, preparing vegetarian, omnivorous, as well as carnivorous meals and letting her guests choose for themselves. Despite their biology, it was best not to assume anything, she'd explained to Glinda. Most of them selected their meals as one would expect—except for a Bobcat Professor from the Glikkus, who first inquired about an insectivorous alternative, and finally decided on the salad when Elphaba confessed that they did not have any bugs or grubs in the pantry.
Glinda had to admit that she was not keen on staying downstairs past dinner, but she was just as unwilling to leave Elphaba's side. It didn't matter that she was now playing second, third, or even third fiddle. She understood perfectly well how exciting and important this was to Elphaba, and gracefully accepted her temporary demotion. Unfortunately, there was no simple chitchat to be had. All that this bunch of academics and freedom fighters seemed to be thinking about revolved around their common cause. Even though she tried her best to follow their animated conversations, it was not enough to evoke any true enthusiasm in her. Her profound lack of knowledge was obvious to her and anyone who hoped to ask about her personal insights. After being put to the test the third time within less than half an hour, she decided to rather watch the spectacle from the sidelines.
She began texting back and forth with Fiyero to pass the time, but his replies came in too slow to effectively distract her. She'd invited him to tomorrow's event like a week ago, but his response had been less than lukewarm, which was fair enough. Her own feelings were similar, if she was entirely honest. There was a difference between offering help and being fully involved. She, now as before, felt too out of place to happily dive into a crowed of Animals whose lives and woes she knew too little about, and who could very easily mistake her for one of the perpetrators responsible for their miseries. It felt pretentious to partake in a rally, postulating improved conditions for Animal citizens, when she still did not fully comprehend how current policies and attitudes impacted their existence. But how could she say no to Elphaba at this final step of the way, when she'd already come so far with her?
Her brooding was interrupted by the resonant sound of a guitar. Calive had perched himself on the coffee table like a cheeky, oversized pet cat, bathing in the spotlight of the brightest lamp in the room. He obviously craved the attention of his audience, not content with playing his melody from some half-lit corner. Glinda suspected he wouldn't so much as dream of allowing it to take the role of soft ambient background music, subservient to the small crowd's conversations—or at least that was the kind of vibe she got from him. Lucky for him, his plan appeared to be working, for she was by far not the only one who'd turned their attention towards the spotted musician.
For a moment, Glinda was amazed how easily the stubby digits of his paws pinned down and strummed the strings. Her own fingers, though much longer than his, had cramped and twisted every time she'd been encouraged by friends to give it a try. Hardly four bars into the song, she already was genuinely impressed, but then he began to sing and her mouth opened in wonder.
His dexterity was instantly outshone by his vocal talent, which was absolutely incredible. His voice was raw and gravelly, but in a soothing, beautiful way. Glinda doubted any human being would ever be able to produce a similar sound. This, of course, begged the question whether other species of Animals would be similarly unique sounding. It suddenly seemed a terrible waste to her to not utilise their distinctive talents in mainstream music. As with so many things, diversity truly was the flavour of life, and she and every other human she knew (with the notable exception of Elphaba), had so far missed out big time not experiencing this full potential of musicality.
Watching his performance, she slightly re-evaluated her opinion of him. She still didn't like him on a personal basis—and there was nothing specieist about it. She just couldn't deal with his forwardness. It was a quality she could stand in hardly anyone, human or Animal, and particularly in males. Neither did she appreciate his self-complacent attitude, but being blessed with so much talent... who wouldn't succumb at least a little to some sort of narcissism? She supposed she could make excuses in that department.
The song ended and Calive was showered with the applause that was due to him. He continued to play three more numbers, but Glinda's mind was too blown to fully appreciate them. It was a kind of sensory overload she hadn't experienced before. She clapped at the end of his impromptu concert, but at the same time decided to leave the small congregation as soon as she could. She was concerned that he might single her out again, just like he had earlier, and that she wouldn't know how to talk to him. No matter how much she adored his music, she didn't want to talk about it or anything else for that matter. She didn't trust herself to deal appropriately with his cockiness, his jokes, his flirtiness, if that was what he was in the mood for. So she hurriedly found Elphaba to wish her a good night and disappeared upstairs.
Finally alone in her room, she sighed at the feeling of her body relaxing into the luxurious mattress. Until then, she hadn't even noticed the tension building up inside of her to stiffen her shoulders and her spine. Perhaps she shouldn't have been surprised after all the stress and work of the past few weeks. She hoped it was all worth it. Elphaba was grateful, which was a sweet reward in itself. As far as the Animals were concerned... well that sort of stuff went above her head. She couldn't fathom what exactly the rally and all the ballyhoo around it could achieve for them or how important her own part in this entire business might be. It was probably better not to worry about any of it and just get some rest before the big day tomorrow.
Turning off her beside light and snuggling under the comforter, she did her best to follow her own advice. Her thoughts, however, wandered back downstairs to Elphaba and the Animals. She was cool with Brrr and Chistery. The Lion knew her, and she knew him. The little Monkey was maybe too similar to your ordinary monkey to really count. She was mostly fine with those guys in Elphaba's drawing room as well. They knew her as their advocate's friend and would surely take her word for it if she claimed that she was dedicated to the cause as well, despite Glinda's own lack of awareness undermining that somewhat. At the very least, they would believe in her good intentions. She was much less convinced of the goodwill of Animals as a whole, even less so when it came to passionate participants of a politically motivated assembly. She fully expected them to judge her by her appearance and although she feared their judgement, she wouldn't begrudge it. It made sense, after all. That didn't mean she didn't feel intimidated.
Which was why she did not want to go.
Or, at the very least, she'd need someone to support and back her up. Someone other than Elphaba, who would be wrapped up in duties, most likely running from A to B, to C, and back to A the entire day. Her list of suitable candidates was incredibly short and Fiyero's name was already crossed off. That basically only left her two lovely flatmates. She had to convince them, no matter what.
* * *
She met up with Crope and Tibbett at the south entry of the Deer Park. It was half past ten in the morning, and she'd already been up and busy for over four hours. She'd held up fine so far and already felt less anxious than she'd anticipated, but that did not mean that she wasn't looking forward to seeing their familiar faces.
"Heeeey!" Crope called as soon as he spotted her and waved enthusiastically.
They hugged and air kissed. Oz, it felt like they hadn't seen each other in years. Tibbett cast quick glances past Glinda whenever he thought she wasn't looking.
"She's not with me," she laughed, noticing his antics almost straight away.
"Not with you?" he echoed, a confused and disappointed expression on his face.
"I last saw her about two hours ago, checking in with the crew at the paramedic tent."
"You promised to introduce us!" he whined, pouting his heart out. Tibbett rolled his eyes.
"I will," Glinda assured, shaking her head over so much melodrama. "If you stick around long enough, you'll encounter her. No doubt about that. Remember: I specifically asked you to come to my aid because I knew she wouldn't be with me all the time, right?"
Crope made a small noise of agreement, while Tibbett studied the flyer a Zebra had thrust into his hand the moment they had set foot into the park.
"So what do we do first?" he asked. "Anyone keen on speeches?"
Both of the others wrinkled their noses.
"I've had enough of those already," she said, making him snort with laughter.
"That was a joke, Glin."
"Oh."
Of course it was. All this work and Elphaba's influence were messing with her head.
"Well, there's a Beaver on the other side of the park who makes some pretty great waffles. You guys hungry yet?"
They both nodded their head. Glinda had promised them free food for the entire day. With her staff badge around her neck, she received a fifty percent discount on anything, except alcoholic drinks.
They walked past tents and booths, and the big open air centre stage. In a crowd as large as this, it was difficult to not accidentally tread on smaller Animals' feet or, in turn, be trampled on by a Buffalo or Camel. The queue at the waffle stall was longer now than Glinda had last seen it. She told Crope to hold the line while she and Crope figured out what drinks they should have. As they passed one of the debate tents, she saw a glimmer of green out of the periphery of her eye and did a double take. Elphaba was standing beside the small platform, together with a Goat in tweeds, going through some papers. When Tibbett turned around to see where she was, she quickly caught up with him. This was not the best time for an introduction.
After they finished their waffles, Glinda was at a bit of a loss, unsure where else to take the boys. After all, this wasn't a fun fair; it was a serious, political event. While there was a lot of interesting food, there were no games or rides, only information booths and semi-revolutionary orations. Undecided, they made their rounds. Crope took some interest in the leaflets distributed by an Animal theatre group. They were performing a play at a different venue, every evening for the next two weeks. Glinda herself picked up a variety of brochures to maybe peruse later in order to further her education.
The number of humans they come across throughout the day was negligible, and almost every person they did see had the same staff badge as Glinda. Outsiders were probably either not interested or too anxious to mingle with so many Animals. Glinda could relate to that. Although her badge seemed to protect her from open challenges, she could not ignore the stares many of the furry and scaly folks were casting their way. When she as much as touched a pamphlet, she'd be eyed with scepticism and mistrust, as if she might use the information contained in them for some evil purpose. At the very least, they probably assumed that their precious resources were wasted on the likes of her.
Eventually, the boys started to get bored. Glinda had anticipated as much and, in the meantime, come up with a little diversion. She took them to a stall with a little grill and an Aardvark, roosting on an elevated stool. His ware: bugs. Roasted, fried, baked into harmless looking cookies and cakes. The shock on Crope and Tibbett's faces was brilliant.
"Okay, boys," she said with a wide grin, "who's brave enough to give it a go?"
"What are the stakes?" Crope asked, still looking mortified, but apparently prepared to weigh the risks and benefits before making his final decision.
"Fame and glory," replied Glinda. "My funds aren't inexhaustible and I already spent a fortune on you guys today."
Tibbett shook his head vehemently, even taking a step back. Crope, on the other hand, gnarled his lower lip, still thinking.
"I think... I'll have some," he said slowly, his eyes fixed on the crispy creepy crawlies on the counter. "But only if Glinda has some as well."
Glinda's eyes widened. She really should have seen this coming. What a dumb move. Though she was okay with trying new foods, it was usually all about novel combinations of already familiar ingredients. This was, admittedly, a bit too novel for her liking. But then again, even humans did eat insects in other parts of the world; she'd seen it in one of Elphaba's documentaries. And she owed the boys some entertainment. It probably (hopefully) wouldn't kill her to have at least a tiny bite. So, in the end, she nodded, astonishing Tibbett and completely knocking the wind out of Crope.
"For real?" he squeaked.
"Yup," she replied with a triumphant smirk, taking out her purse to pay for a roast cricket skewer.
"Here you go."
"What about you?" Crope asked nervously as he took the food from her.
She flipped her hair and smiled.
"Oh, don't you worry. Gentlemen first, but I promise that I'll stick to my word."
Crope stared at the skewer for a good minute, swallowing several times. His boyfriend patted his back to let him know that he was there and supporting him in his courageous endeavour.
At long last, he took a cautious nibble.
"And? AND?" Tibbett pressed.
"It's... sort of okay," Crope admitted. "Do you want to try?"
"Nope."
"Okay, my turn," Glinda said and took a quick breath. "I'll have this one please," she told the vendor, pointing at a small, dark brown piece, labelled as mealworm brownie."
The Aardvark heaved a mildly exasperated sigh and bagged the supposed brownie in a small paper bag before handing it over to her and collecting his payment. Glinda winced a little. He probably took immense pride in his food and disapproved of their foolish game of dare.
"Hey, that's not fair!" exclaimed Crope, chewing another mouthful of roast cricket. He pointed at the bag. "I'm not even sure if that actually has real bugs in it. It could be all fake!"
They turned towards the Aardvark, who bent down to produce a box of cake baking mix.
"Four bucks each," he announced gruffly.
Tibbett exchanged it for a five dollar note, telling him to keep the change. Gingerly, he opened the package.
"Looks like chocolate powder, flour and"—he couldn't help but make a face—"crushed worms. Ew! I think I can see the legs!"
Glinda chuckled awkwardly. This kind of graphic description wasn't helpful.
"Fine." Crope said with a shrug. "Dig in then, princess."
A march was planned for three o'clock. To hype up the crowd, the most prominent figures of the movement gave short, passionate speeches from the centre stage. Glinda and her flatmates half-listened from a fair distance away, hanging out in an overgrown gazebo.
"What are we gonna do when they all leave?" Crope wondered aloud. "Or did you plan on walking with them?"
Glinda let her eyes wander across the throng gathered in front of the stage. A number of them had gotten out their banners and makeshift signs. They cheered in unison at all the appropriate moments, some of them were gripped by a palpable unrest. It definitely felt safer for her to keep her distance.
"If you want, you can go home, and I'll just wait for Elphaba to return afterwards, so I can say goodbye before I leave as well."
"Why not do it now?" Tibbett wanted to know.
"Because," Glinda said, rolling her eyes, "this very moment, she's probably hovering right next to the stage, managing the final preparations before the scheduled departure. I don't want to get squashed in an attempt to locate my friend, just to find out she's too busy anyway."
"Well, we'll stay and wait as well then," he sighed.
"Because we're still waiting for you to introduce her to us," added Crope.
"Shit. Yes, that's right."
Borderline embarrassed, Glinda shifted her weight and drew one leg up to her seat. She didn't know what else to say or do, so she let the boys coo and drool over some photos on a dating app. The discussion of their next threesome plan was not something she really wanted to overhear, so she tuned out of their conversation as best she could.
The words from the loudspeaker had stopped momentarily, probably a break between speeches. It wasn't quite three yet. The noises from the crowd were getting louder. They were done listening and eager to march. Eventually, there was some cheering, but not as much as before. Glinda didn't envy the poor devil whose task it was to keep their attention for another couple of minutes.
"I am privileged," a female voice began, then paused.
There still was a lot of background noise. Only some of the Animals were prepared to lend their ears in earnest. Undeterred, the speaker continued.
"Not because my family is wealthy, or because they are of some status. I'm privileged because I was accepted and trusted by YOU."
That simple word did the trick and the crowd quieted down considerably. Glinda smiled, not knowing exactly why, except that she could somewhat relate to struggling in the spotlight, and it wasn't a feeling she wished on anyone.
"You are suspicious of humans, and rightly so. Not a month goes by that we don't hear about the abuse, murder even, of our brethren in the name of peace. Because peace cannot be achieved as long as wild creatures live among the civilised people of Oz—or so they say. The humans."
Some voices cheered. Glinda bit her lip, studying the dirty tip of her propped-up shoe.
"But why do they think like that? Because of their own experiences? Of course not. Propaganda and politics are to blame!"
There was overwhelming agreement.
"But now let me tell you this, even though I know you won't like it: YOU have made a mistake."
Just as the speaker had anticipated, confused murmuring spread thought the ranks of spectators.
"By 'you,' I don't only mean this current generation of Animals, standing before me right now. I also mean your parents and grandparents; those Horses and Hogs, Rabbits and Raccoons, Apes and Antelopes who once lived harmoniously side by side with their human neighbours, but withdrew the very moment coexistence became less amicable."
The murmuring became louder, but the speaker continued, raising her voice just a notch.
"Rumours were planted and lies—all with the sole purpose of alienating humans and Animals from each other. Hostility spread and found little resistance. Animals fled their homes, their workplaces in the thousands. They fled to safety, to weather the storm, but in their absence, the storm only grew stronger. Too few were left to dispel the false whispers, too few asked their colleagues and friends for help. They became strangers, and suspicion began to fester on both sides, playing right into the hands of those who had initiated your downfall.
"This has to end now. You need to take the first step.
"As hard as it may seem, as painful as it may be; you have to learn to trust humans again. You have to bridge the divide, make friends, and drive out this prejudice.
"I do not ask for blind trust; rather, I ask for you to let go of the blind mistrust that you have nursed for so long.
"I am privileged. My otherness made you see beyond my two-legged, hairless body and my opposable thumbs. And so, here I am, fighting alongside you. I suppose, it all turned out for the better. But do you really think my otherness is the only reason I wanted to be here? There are more people like me out there, ready to help, if only you let them. There would be even more, if only they knew Animals as well as I do. You need to go out there and find those people and enlist their aid.
"THAT is how you will change the way the world perceives you. Ask for help, don't be shy, don't be too guarded. Be bold, be welcoming, be everything they think you're not! Only when the people of Oz forget why they hate and fear you, only then, politicians will be forced to consider change. Only then, your voices will be taken seriously."
Glinda sighed and dropped her foot. This was emotionally draining. She'd been on her feet all day and had now listened to more political rhetoric than she'd ever hoped to in her life. She was happy to be any Animal's friend, but she just wasn't much of a resistance fighter, especially when she couldn't shake this nagging feeling of guilt. It was her people who were doing this to them, and in some small part, she was sure to have contributed as well. She was certain, that hardly anyone in Oz could declare themselves entirely free of blame.
When she looked up, Crope caught her eye and grinned, fabulously unaware of her melancholic thoughts. He took the phone from Tibbett and stumbled over to where she was sitting.
"Look at this dreamboat," he gushed. "It's either him, or this dude." He made a swipe and a different photo popped up. "What do you think?"
"Well, no offence," she said, gently pushing the phone away from her face, "but I couldn't care less who you two invite into your bedroom. Just be a dear and warn me in advance before it happens, so I can sleep over at Elphaba's."
With a shake of her head, she turned around towards the stage. Her heart skipped a beat, and she froze. The current speaker was still wrapping up her speech. It was Elphaba. Glinda's brow furrowed. This must be a mistake. But she listened, and the voice still was the same as a minute ago. Now that she was fully paying attention, the familiarity was obvious, though she did sound rather different through the booming speakers.
It was still confusing. Elphaba hadn't said a thing to her, neither did it seem like something she would be keen on doing. Moreover, she could not remember seeing Elphaba write or practice her monologue. Then again, she had spent quite some time alone in her office.
By the time Elphaba was finished, the crowd was mollified and applauded generously. Glinda was glad and proud. Smiling, she rested her head on her arms that lay folded on the ledge of the gazebo window. Music began to play, and she watched Elphaba leaving the stage. She took over one of the poles that held up the large banner in the front of the procession. Soon enough, the crowd set into motion.
Glinda and the boys left the shelter to look for more food. Many of the vendors had begun to pack up their goods and stalls. They found a kebab truck that still had some morsels left to sell. With Crope and Tibbett fed and content for the time being, Glinda made her round, checking in with various administrative tents to see if there was anything for her to do.
Elphaba was back by four. Most of the Animals had dispersed after the march had ended. When Glinda spotted her, her lips parted to reveal a vibrant, toothy grin. Her steps quickened so they could be reunited just a little sooner.
"Elphie, you sly thing!" she chided playfully. "Why did you not say anything?"
Elphaba stared at her quizzically until the penny dropped at last.
"Oh that. I didn't think it was important." The slightest hint of purple crept across her cheeks. "So you, um, heard it?"
Glinda nodded. Sweet Lurline, Elphaba was so adorable when she felt self-conscious. She was about to ask who had convinced her to agree to the speech and what kind of bribery they had used, but Elphaba seemed otherwise distracted. Following her gaze, she turned around to find her flatmates watching them from a small distance. Man, what a terrible friend she was being today.
"Your pals?" Elphaba asked, one eyebrow quirked almost comically. "You didn't forewarn them?"
"Warn them?" asked Glinda, blinking. She cast a glance at the boys. They did look a little fuddled, but she couldn't' quite figure it out.
"The green?" Elphaba pointed out helpfully.
"Oh."
They did get over the initial shock, but neither them, nor Elphaba, could quite fathom how Glinda could have neglected to mention her friend's unusual colouration. Elphaba was amused; Crope and Tibbett were slightly upset, arguing that they would have played it cool if only they had known in advance. They blamed her for making them feel like ignorant idiots, gaping the way they had.
In the end, it was nothing but a minor hick-up. Everyone got along splendidly, and plans to meet up more often were soon agreed on.
"So you're not staying for the concert later?" Elphaba asked when Glinda, Crope and Tibbett decided to head home.
For a moment, Glinda was torn. Part of her wanted to enlighten the boys' musical understanding the same way the previous evening had enlightened hers.
"Yeah, very sorry to miss out," she finally said, smiling apologetically. "But I'm dead on my feet. I think we all are. And back to work tomorrow, right?"
"You should call in sick," Tibbett chimed in.
Elphaba bobbed her head in understanding.
"That's fine. Another time." She paused and licked her lips, then shifted her weight. "Thanks. For all your help. I wouldn't have survived this without you."
Glinda beamed.
"No worries. I'm sure you'll come up with some way to make it up to me."
"Yeah, I don't know how I could ever," Elphaba mumbled, rubbing her right arm with her left hand.
They stood for a while, eyes fixed at each other, until Glinda dipped her head and waved slightly.
"See ya, Elphie."
"I'll text you," promised Elphaba. Looking over to Crope and Tibbett, she gave a nod. "Thanks for coming, guys."
As soon as they were out of earshot, Crope looped his arm through Glinda's. He grinned stupidly as he leaned closer to her ear.
"You two totally should have kissed then and there," he whispered, causing her face to turn bright red.