Accidents Will Happen

Chapter Twenty-Five

To be honest, Elphaba didn't mind it at all when Galinda went out socialising. The big circle of friends that she apparently craved was something she herself could not provide her with, and as long as Galinda was content venturing out on her own, that was perfectly fine with her. She wasn't the jealous type.

Besides, she did have cravings of her own, and those couldn't have been more different from her's. Where Galinda sought lively company, Elphaba needed solitude and quiet, even away from Galinda at times. Worrying that Galinda might take such a confession to heart and feel rejected, she was more than glad when she got what she needed without having to ask for it. It was one less delicate balancing act to navigate in their relationship.

Of course, all that would change soon, once the baby arrived. She still couldn't tell for sure whether she truly knew what awaited her. But, suffice to say, solitude and quiet would both become rare luxuries. No more perfect reason than that to savour the fleeting gift of total privacy.

With three well-read library books lying open before her, she was typing away on her computer, working on her essay. She'd only received the assignment on the day before. In her situation, however, she wasn't willing to take any risks. What was done was done. If she kept up to date and finished everything early, she might very well manage going into labour one fine morning, afternoon, or night, and hand in the particular assignment at that time just before it was due—regardless of that minor, well, interruption. It wasn't impossible, only a matter of good planning and diligent work.

Malky, oblivious to her carefully laid out schedule, jumped onto the dining table and walked all over her books.

"You know you shouldn't be on here," she growled lackadaisically, without really doing anything to reprimand or remove him. When he rubbed his head against her cheek, she rewarded him with a distracted pat, despite herself.

The brief moment with her hand away from the keyboard gave her cause to stop and read what she'd written so far. Her lips tightened in concentration, her eyes strained as she leaned closer to re-read the same passage again and again. With a grunt, she selected the entire paragraph and hit delete. She needed to do better.

Giving a little chirp, Malky turned around in a circle, his bushy tail brushing over her face.

"Shoo, you little pest!" she exclaimed, shoving him slightly, and he padded right across her laptop on his way to the other side of the table from where he leaped to the ground. Frantically, she rushed to delete the nonsensical sequence he'd left behind on her document. "Bloody cat."

She didn't mean it, of course. She loved him. She imagined a child to pan out similarly: somewhat of a pain, somewhat of a joy, and on top of that, a whole lot of work. More work than a pet, she feared.

Grabbing her tea and taking a sip to calm herself, she once again perused the open pages in front of her. This shouldn't be so difficult. Not for her. If she believed in one thing, then it was her own strength of intellect. Relative to that of the majority of her peers at any rate. Then, anything but calm, she set the cup aside. With her long, sticklike forefinger tracing the lines, she muttered to herself, biting the thumb nail of her other hand. There must be a better way to amalgamate these points presented there. If she could only summon her concentration, she—

Behind her, the door opened, diverting her attention yet again. Though, to her own astonishment, she couldn't say that this sort of distraction was entirely unwelcome. Galinda would come to greet her, then leave her to complete her work, maybe even prepare fresh tea or snacks for her. She tended to be rather thoughtful that way.

"Welcome back, Miss Twinklestar," she called, grinning to herself. Suddenly, the perfect wording occurred to her, and she hastened to commit it all to the page before the fleeting spark of genius had a chance to escape her. Or before Galinda sprung up behind her, wrapping her in her arms and leaving her unable to write for just long enough so the thought would vanish.