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Emmett Forrest didn’t get a lot of house calls. Given that his tiny apartment wasn’t exactly in the nicest part of town, he tended to avoid inviting people over; in fact, most people he knew, including his colleagues at Harvard and at the firm, didn’t even know where he lived.
The only people who visited with any regularity were his mom and from time to time, Elle. But his mom was so busy during the week she only ever visited at weekends, and he and Elle weren’t studying tonight; after months of being shunned and looked down on by her classmates, a couple of them had finally decided she was worthy of their respect – only after Callahan had openly complimented her in front of the entire class, of course – and invited her to a study group. She’d been both excited and endearingly anxious when he said goodbye to her earlier today, and he’d sent her a good luck text about forty minutes ago, which she’d seen but not replied to.
Which, to get back to the original point, meant it came as something of a surprise when someone knocked on his door at 8:30pm on a Tuesday evening.
Curious and wary, he set aside the stack of essays he was grading and went to the door, his heart leaping in sudden shock when he looked through the peephole and saw Elle standing there.
He hurried to slide the chain off his door and undo the deadbolt, forgetting the mess in his apartment and the fact that he was sloppily dressed in sweatpants and a ratty old t-shirt, just wanting to get her inside as quickly as possible. His neighbourhood wasn’t that bad…but he preferred not to take chances.
“Hey,” he said, a little breathless as he pulled the door open, “what’s up? I thought you had your study group tonight.”
She stepped inside, offering him a quick smile – but it definitely wasn’t her normal smile. It wasn't anywhere near as blinding as usual.
“Yeah, um, I must have gotten the night wrong or something because we arranged to meet at a café but no one from school was there when I arrived. I waited like half an hour, but no one showed up and then I thought, well, I’m pretty near Emmett’s and I knew you’d be at home so maybe we could hang out for a little bit-” She cut herself short, shaking her head with a little laugh. It didn’t sound at all like her normal laugh either. “And I’m just realising how rude that was of me. I’m sorry, Em, I know you’re busy – I should have at least texted to ask.”
There was no way that Elle “Took Part in Ten Million Extra-Curriculars and Somehow Still Had Time To Maintain a 4.0 GPA All While Looking Like She Stepped Out of a Fashion Magazine” Woods had gotten the night wrong, and he could tell just by looking at her that she didn’t really believe that was the case either. The assholes had just ditched her. That had probably been their plan all along, but even if it wasn’t, Emmett wasn’t disposed to look kindly on people who didn’t have the courtesy to call ahead to cancel plans.
His hands clenched into fists at his sides, but he quickly forced them to relax, fighting his indignation. He didn’t want to upset Elle further, not when she’d clearly come to him for comfort – which was something he’d definitely be overanalysing later.
“Don’t worry about it, it’s not a problem,” he reassured her, gesturing for her to cross the very short distance from his door to his living room, “do you wanna sit down? Sorry it’s such a mess in here.”
Elle didn’t seem to notice the disarray – she never did. She just smiled gratefully and went to sit on his couch, flopping down with a small noise that sounded like a cross between a sigh and a sad little hum, “Thanks, Em.”
He couldn’t help frowning as he watched her; he hadn’t seen her so deflated since his early days of tutoring her. He hadn’t liked seeing her unhappy then, and that was when he’d hardly known her – now it felt almost physically painful to see her so unlike her usual exuberant self.
Looking for a way to distract her, his eyes fell on the mug sat on the side in his little kitchenette – he’d been about to make himself something to drink.
“Would you like some tea?”
She perked up a little, “Yes, please. But only if you're having some too.”
“I was just about to make some. What kind do you want?”
She twisted slightly in her seat to watch him as he went to fish through his kitchen cupboard, “What were you going to have?”
“Green tea.”
Elle’s expression brightened still further, her smile warming up until she almost looked like herself again, “My favourite.”
He smiled back as he grabbed a second mug from beside the sink (congratulating himself for remembering to do the dishes earlier), “Good.”
“If you’ve got work to do, I can reread some of the notes I made for the study session,” she said. He glanced over his shoulder to see her eying the large pile of essays he’d left on the rickety coffee table and felt a warm rush of gratitude for her consideration.
“It’s alright,” he said, “I’ve got time for a break.”
It wasn’t strictly true, but he wasn’t going to pass up an unexpected opportunity to hang out with Elle. He still had a couple of days to get that marking done anyway.
“Okay, if you’re sure. Thank you,” she said when he brought her the tea, cupping the mug between her two hands and bringing it up to her mouth. She didn’t drink for a second though, just sat there letting the warm steam curl up and over her face.
He didn’t know exactly what prompted him to say it, but something about the way she looked just then – that pensive, slightly faraway look in her eyes – jogged loose a memory, something he hadn’t thought of in a long time. Before he could second-guess himself, he opened his mouth and started to speak, “Uh, when I was a kid my mom and I used to play a game called ‘My Favourite Things’, where we’d just sit and list our favourite things; food, things to do, places. She always seemed to want to play it when I was upset, so maybe it was supposed to be a way of reminding me to be grateful for the things that made me happy, rather than getting worked up about the things that didn’t. Especially when things were...rough.”
He trailed off, embarrassed and a little surprised to realise that he’d never told anyone about that before. With his undergraduate girlfriend, he’d always been worried about revealing too much about his background and his childhood, afraid that it might change the way she looked at him. That backfired obviously, and she broke up with him for being too closed off – as well as for his obsessive dedication to his work, of course. But Elle had always been easy to talk to, and he knew by now that she wouldn’t judge him, not for something like this.
She was watching him now with unmistakeable fondness, “That’s so cute. Can I ask you one?”
“Sure.”
Elle thought for a second, then said, “What’s your favourite thing about Harvard?”
Emmett’s brain froze.
He’d been at Harvard for years: this should be easy. He’d had his first proper romantic relationship here, completed his undergraduate degree, gotten into law school. He’d beaten the rest of his class to Callahan’s internship, and again to valedictorian and now he was slowly but surely crawling his way up the ladder of Callahan’s law firm, because even though the guy was undeniably a jerk, that was what he had always planned on doing and if he let go now there’d be an awfully long way to fall.
He was fiercely proud of all that he’d achieved, and nothing made him happier than seeing the expression on his mom’s face in the photo they’d taken together at his graduation – or at least, nothing had, until Elle Woods.
Would it be endearing if he told her that, or pathetic? Probably pathetic.
“The twenty-four hour library.”
Okay, that was even worse.
But Elle laughed, and that was good enough for him.
“Your turn. What’s your favourite thing about Harvard?”
Elle paused, a little frown forming between her brows as she considered the question, and his stomach twisted at once as he realised that might have been a pretty stupid thing to ask: most of Elle’s memories of Harvard so far were not pleasant ones. He opened his mouth, ready to back-track, but then Elle’s expression cleared, and she gave him a bright smile, “You, of course.”
He had a mouthful of hot tea and it burned as he swallowed it way too fast. Coughing a little, he stared at her, not quite sure if he’d heard her right, “Me?”
“Sure,” she said, as if it was something obvious, as if she hadn’t just dropped what felt like an emotional bombshell on him. He wished he could borrow a teaspoon of her confidence and ease, just so he could get through this moment with equanimity. “You helped me when you didn’t know me and didn’t have to, and you’re practically the only person here who doesn’t look at me like I’m an idiot most of the time. I know that I could have gotten through,” she waved her hand, indicating Harvard Law School, apparently, “this, on my own if I had to…but I didn’t, thanks to you.”
Their eyes met, and the way she was looking at him was so warm that it made his heart hammer and his chest ache with how much he wanted to kiss her. Just when he thought he couldn’t bear it anymore, Elle poked him in the shoulder, breaking the tension of the moment with a teasing grin, “Plus, no one else in this city will watch fashion documentaries with me, which I’m pretty sure makes you far and away the best person here.”
He laughed at once, grateful for her levity, and took another sip of his tea, hoping that he wasn’t blushing – or at least, not too obviously, “Well, I try. Thanks, Elle.”
She smiled brightly, “You’re welcome. Okay, it’s your turn again.”
Note to self, he thought, as he watched her ponder her next question, add ‘Elle thinks I’m the best thing about Harvard’ to list of things to unpack later. Right after, ‘I think Elle’s the best thing about Harvard’ and ‘Elle comes to me when she’s upset’.
Oh yeah, ‘pathetic’ was definitely the word.