Chapter Text
They say the best relationships usually start out as friendships. That may be particularly true, especially if you’ve been friends for years.
Emma Woodhouse and George Knightley have been friends for as long as they both can remember. For one, they each live on the opposite ends of their street in the quaint and small village of Highbury, which is about two hour’s drive from bustling London. They pretty much grew up together and their families became closely knit when Emma’s older sister Isabella married George’s older brother John.
Since then, Emma and George would spend the afternoons together biking across town or going out for some hotdogs or ice cream, which are their favorite snacks. If they’re too lazy or if the weather doesn’t permit, they would just hang out at Emma’s place, pop in their favorite movie accompanied with lots of buttered popcorn or lie under the apple tree in the backyard listening to the weekly playlist they made for each other. They were basically inseparable.
But their friendship was something special. Though they would constantly bicker, they would make up as soon as they’d finished. Their families and neighbors would say this is the trademark of their friendship.
And all throughout their years growing up together, Emma and George were always so supportive of one another especially when it comes to their dreams. Emma was an artist - she loved to paint but she was always unconfident with her work so she rarely finishes a painting. It’s only when George urges her - after teasing her about it - is she able to finish a piece. George, on the other hand, is interested in becoming a lawyer, though he’s not sure yet on which specialization he’d like to pursue. He’s quite interested in real estate and agriculture so he may pursue something along that line, but he’d have to finish university first. Emma loves to tease him on such a boring interest (“Out of all the bazillion majors in the world and you picked the most boring one!” she teased) but nevertheless fully supports him on his career choice.
Emma and George attended the same high school in Highbury, and although he’s only a year ahead of her, he’s actually two years older than her. So when the time came for the Senior Prom, George had a bit of a dilemma. The Senior Prom at Highbury High allowed seniors to ask dates even from the lower years.
George was not really a fan of big social gatherings at school, and he was a bit of an introvert if one could say so. He spent most of his time at the library or at the coffee shop outside campus either reading or strumming some tunes on his guitar. Most of the time, Emma would be with him, but she would be engrossed in her phone checking social media or doodling on her mini sketchbook she always carries in her handbag. They would usually get the couch right by the corner where the lighting is best because Emma needed the natural light for her drawings while George didn’t really like the dark very much.
During one of their coffee shop sessions, Emma caught George staring out the window for some minutes.
“Your coffee is not going to drink itself, you know,” she said as she looked up from her sketchbook.
He blinked and shuddered. “What? Sorry… spaced out.”
“Yeah… I noticed,” Emma didn’t break away. She knew something was on his mind. “Look, I’ve known you my whole life, I know when something’s bugging you when you haven’t touched your hot mocha, which is your favorite drink here. What’s up?”
“Yeah, no, you see, it’s the prom,” he said blankly.
“What about it?”
“I don’t feel like going.”
“Why the heck not? It’s the prom!” Emma put her pen down. “And come on, it’s your last year, you can at least give yourself a teensy bit of opportunity to have fun! You spent your entire high school life bored!”
“I was not bored!” George said, taken aback.
“Sorry, I meant you were boring-“ Emma couldn’t help but giggle.
“Oh, shut up.”
“I’m serious! Why aren’t you looking forward to it then?”
“You know me. I’m not into social gatherings and stuff. And besides,” he shrugged.
“And besides?”
“I’m not sure who to ask.”
Emma studied him and his answer, unsure of how to respond. Surely he could just ask her? But they were friends, that would be weird, wouldn’t it?
George then finally took a sip from his cup. “What?”
“I think I can help you with that bit,” she smirked but as soon as she did, she immediately wished she didn’t. She wished the idea hadn’t gone into her head at all.
George looked at her and asked again, “What?”
Emma continued to smirk. “Well… I’ve been seeing Jane Fairfax’s tweets lately. I think she has a major crush on you.”
George blinked stupidly. “Jane Fairfax? Your classmate who’s also the pianist of the chorale? Why on earth would she have a crush on me?”
“I don’t know, do we look like we’re BFFs?!” Emma said, now annoyed with herself that she even brought this up. At the back of her mind, she didn’t know why she even did, but at the same time, why did it bother her so? It’s true, she wasn’t exactly friends with Jane and they’re nothing more but classmates but Emma always did find a disliking to her, though she couldn’t explain why.
“Anyway,” she continued. “She tweets about you a lot. Well not directly, at least. Usually indirects and hints about ‘a senior who’s always at the coffee shop drowned in his books or his music’,” she teased.
“Wow,” was all George could say. “But I barely know her! I mean yeah, we’ve played alongside each other once or twice I think but we never actually talked talked. Though yeah, she is kinda pretty…”
This time Emma shrugged. “Well I don’t know, silly. I’m just saying, you could ask her.”
And just at that moment, the door of the shop opened and in went a fair young lady with dark brown hair tied into a ponytail. She had a soft smile on her face as she was typing on her phone while heading to the counter.
Emma and George exchanged looks. She scoffed. “Well there you go.”
George looked at Emma again, trying to figure out what she was up to. “You’re not pulling my leg here, are you? I mean, I know how you love setting people up together-“
She laughed dryly. “No, I’m actually serious this time. Go for it… She’s right there.”
George nodded to himself. He put his hand on Emma’s and she could have sworn her heart skipped a beat at the sudden gesture. “You better be right about this, Em.”
And as if the noise around her faded to mute, Emma watched George walk up to Jane by the counter. His approach made him look like an idiot but a confident one. She watched as Jane blushed and saw her nod with a smile as George smiled himself. Suddenly, Emma felt an invisible lump on her throat and looked out the window. She had no idea what was running through her own mind at that moment and couldn’t explain why she was feeling… jealous?
Just as she was falling deeper into her thoughts, George shook her back to reality by coming back to his seat giddily.
“Well?” Emma raised an eyebrow.
“I have to hand it to you this time, Em,” he grinned. “Maybe I’ll enjoy my last year after all!”
Emma smiled but it was a half-baked smile. What the hell did she just do.