The Interview

Chapter Five

A thin ray of morning sun filtered through the small gap between the curtains, tickling Glinda's nose. She stretched, wiggled around to lie on her other side and buried her face in the pillow where no light could possibly disturb her. Her body hadn't received the recommended minimum of seven hours of sleep in over a week, and she probably hadn't felt this well rested in over a year or more. So, naturally, her subconscious mind seemed determined to make this current state of relaxation last forever. Sighing into the luxuriously soft pillow, she was about to return to a phase of deeper sleep, when suddenly something clicked in her brain, and she rolled onto her back, immediately wide awake.

"Oh shit."

Her mind began to race through a kind of emergency checklist to gauge the situation. For a few moments, she just lay there, perfectly still, apart from the pronounced heaving of her chest. Her hands rested flat on the sheet, fingertips tentatively stroking the far too delicate, silky fabric. A quick look around told her that the room was nicely decorated, but definitely plain and impersonal enough to be a guest room. A thought, an association popped into her mind and she already had an idea how to verify it. Her eyes darted up, recognising the artful stucco ceiling at once.

She was at Elphaba's house and it suddenly made sense, for the last thing she could remember, was being in Elphaba's company. She also believed to remember that she hadn't had a single drop of alcohol the previous night – not one. Looking back down, she could confirm, that she was still fully dressed, bar her shoes, wearing the exact same outfit she'd worn before passing out... And after all, it was Elphaba's house.

Yes, Elphaba's house, where Elphaba lived. The thought of having her green friend nearby was strangely comforting. Even though they had not known each other for particularly long, and even though her reasons for trusting her were beyond evidence or logic, she considered Elphaba safe. In fact, she was possibly one of the safest people Glinda knew and Fiyero might very well have been the only one among her long-term friends to rival her in this department.

Glinda released a deep breath. All worst-case scenarios ruled out, she already felt a little calmer, but still tried to rack her brain and piece together what exactly had happened. She remembered the night market and she remembered getting into Elphaba's car afterwards. She remembered how cosy and warm it had been and how exhausted she had felt. That's where her blurry recollections fizzled out. In the end, she supposed, she must have fallen asleep in the passenger seat. Oh, merciful Oz!

She covered her face with her hands, utterly mortified. Perhaps, after her week of hell, it was no wonder that she had ended up drifting off, but that was still no acceptable excuse and furthermore, Elphaba didn't even know half of it! What must she be thinking of her now, crashing out in somebody else's car just like that? Had she been able to walk up the stairs on her own feet at least (although most certainly with Elphaba's assistance) or had Elphaba been forced to carry her all the way, while she'd been snoozing away, unconscious like a passed out drunk?

The mental image alone made her want to die of embarrassment and yet, she replayed it in her head over and over. She thought of Elphaba, who definitely looked like she could lift her without difficulty and then, she pictured herself cradled in those strong arms, limp, her own extremities dangling from her side and her head tilted backwards. She realised how close their bodies would have been. A wry laugh escaped her lips. The entire situation was disturbing. And a bit funny. Disturbingly funny. She only hoped Elphaba could see the humour as well.

It occurred to her, that she would have to go downstairs soon and face her friend. The notion terrified her more than it probably should have. Superficially, she knew that it was just a little mishap, by no means the end of the world, but Glinda was still fairly unaccustomed to the entire situation. Up until last night, the upkeep of certain social standards had never been a big issue for her. She had always taken pride in her own sense for propriety, even when she found herself, more often than not, in much less virtuous company. It was how she saw herself, how she wanted others to see her. Now it was like that perfect image had been chipped and she was disappointed in herself. And, however unreasonable her fear might have been, she was worried that Elphaba would be disappointed as well.