Chapter Text
Stanford Pines laughed sardonically to himself, sprinting to maintain pace with Fiddleford back to their dormitory. Ironically, he felt grateful for the years of boxing training his father had forced him to go through, knowing it was the only reason he could keep up. They had gotten out of Intro To Quantum Physics fifteen minutes late because the professor absolutely had to finish his train of thought on perturbation theory. They were now sprinting across campus because Fiddleford had (guiltily) invited his girlfriend Emma May to stay for the entire week after multiple long phone calls with her crying about how she missed him so much. He had stayed for Winter break with Ford because he was working on a personal project, so it had been eight months since she had seen him. Ford couldn’t quite sympathize with her demands for Fiddleford to call her more often because he was clearly very busy at university. If it were up to him in the situation, he simply would have said no for the sake of keeping distractions to a minimum. Their Junior Spring semester was shaping up to be a lot of hard work. Yet here he was, running behind his spry roommate to meet her at the stoop of the building, where she had been waiting for 20 minutes.
“Jesus, Fidd,” Ford panted as they cut across the quad. “How are you running this fast?”
“You can’t catch a pig if you’re slow, pal!” Fiddleford laughed. They turned a sharp corner around the building to arrive at the front door. Slowing their pace slightly, Ford watched Fiddleford look around slightly frantically for Emma May.
“Ford!” A woman’s voice shouted. Both Ford and Fiddleford turned around.
Fiddleford beamed and ran toward her. “Honeybun!” Honeybun? Ford thought. He shoved his hands into his pockets.
Emma May was wearing a white blouse with a coral orange mid length skirt and black kitten heels. She had a smaller frame and fluffy curly hair with bangs that practically covered her eyes completely. She held a small handbag that neatly matched her skirt. She had a big smile on and was shuffling in her heels to meet her boyfriend halfway.
“Fiddleford Hadron McGucket, you shaved your mustache?!” Emma May shouted. Fiddleford laughed at the remark. They embraced, and he lifted Emma May in the air and kissed her for a while. Ford rolled his eyes and looked away.
Fiddleford took Emma May by the hand and brought her over to Ford. “Emma May,” he said. “I’d like ya to meet my roommate and best friend Stanford Pines.”
“Pleasure to finally meet ya, Stanford!” She said, smiling. She put out a hand to shake. Ford hesitated taking his hand out for her anticipated reaction to his extra appendages, then begrudgingly took it out of his pocket and shook her hand. Her eyes widened but she said nothing.
“Well then,” Fiddleford said, aptly avoiding awkward silence. “Shall we get my darlin’ settled in alright?” Emma May looked up at him and smiled again, and they all headed to her car to help her up with her travel bags.
They quickly ran up the stairs with Emma May’s things, the couple giggling on the heels of Ford. They technically weren’t allowed to have the opposite sex in the dorms, but Fiddleford promised Ford that no “funny business” would happen. So there Ford was, fumbling for his keys to enter the dorm without anyone seeing them. When he finally managed to open the door the three of them stepped in. He heard Emma May mutter something about boys are so messy and began to unpack.
Emma May took a couple of tops out of her clothes bag and turned to Fiddleford. “Do ya mind if I hang these up in yer closet, Sweetie?” she asked.
“Not at all!” He responded. Sweetie and Honeybun, Ford thought. Too much sugar for me. Once Emma May had completed unpacking her things she started searching for a broom and began to frantically organize the room.
“Hey! Quit messin’ with the stuff!” Fiddleford exclaimed, taking some circuit boards out of her arms.
“I wouldn’t have to mess with the stuff if it was put in a proper place ,” she responded curtly. Fiddleford let out an exasperated sigh.
“Alright, well,” Ford cleared his throat. “I’ll leave you two to it. I think I’m going to head to the library to study a bit more today.”
“Oh, please have dinner with us, won’t you?” Emma May said. Ford was surprised by the invitation.
“I don’t want to get in your way, or anything like that-” Ford stammered. Fiddleford raised an eyebrow at his sudden change in character. After a beat too long Fiddleford interjected.
“Aw, c’mon Ford! Besides, I know you haven’t eaten enough today. Let’s get some food into ya.” Fiddleford patted him on the back and they all headed out of the dorm, as Ford grumbled under his breath about this being a big waste of time for him.
They left the dorm building and headed out to the other side of campus to get to the dining hall. It was April. The trees started to bud with new flowers and the air smelled damp, like earth. Despite Spring being in full swing, it was still a little chilly.
“So tell me about yerself, Stanford,” Emma May said.
“Call me Ford,” he responded, sounding a bit shorter than he had intended.
She raised an eyebrow and laughed lightly. “Well, if I call you Ford, then what am I supposed to call him?” she signaled in Fiddleford’s direction. Ford tilted his head, a little confused.
“Ha!” Fiddleford cut in uncomfortably. “People– call me Fidd here, Honeybun. Or just Fiddleford.” Emma May looked to him with mild concern on her face but didn’t respond to him. She turned to face Ford again. “Well, Stanford, if ya don’t mind I’m gonna keep callin’ ya Stanford because I’ve been calling this fella Ford my whole life.” She smiled sweetly at him, and they maintained walking in silence until they all sat down with food at the dining hall.
They found a booth table in the back corner. Ford sat across from Fiddleford and Emma May. He wasn’t feeling particularly hungry for the boiled chicken covered in a mysterious brown sauce in front of him, so he started picking at the string beans on the plate instead. He quietly observed Fiddleford interact with his girlfriend – the way he would squeeze her hand, how he wrapped his arm around her waist to pull her in for a hug, what stories he would tell to her about recent college life. He heard his southern accent come out prominently and quite quickly around her. It was sort of nice to see this side of Fiddleford, but it felt different, off. Some of his personality certainly felt like authentic Fidd, but it was sometimes the things he said to Emma May felt a little… performative.
“Stanford,” Emma May said, pulling Ford out of his 1000-yard stare at Fiddleford’s hand on her waist. “Ya never told me about yerself! Where’re ya from? How’d’ya land on Backupsmore?”
His heart skipped a beat thinking about how he landed on Backupsmore; more like the floor being pulled out underneath him. He let out a begrudging grunt. “I’m from New Jersey. I picked Backupsmore because I got a full ride and that’s that.”
She frowned, and Fiddleford glared at him. Ford sighed, feeling a little guilty after hearing how short he sounded when he spoke. “What about you Emma May? What do you do? How did you two meet?”
She smiled forgivingly. “Well currently I’m jus’ workin’ on my family’s farm, and pickin’ up shifts at the diner when I can. And as for this fella,” she turned lovingly to Fiddleford. “I’ve known him since grade school. He was my first friend when my family moved to Shady Grove, and we’ve been inseparable ever since!” She squeezed Fiddleford’s arm and tilted her head onto his shoulder. Ford’s expression softened at her action. She’s head over heels for him, he thought.
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They finished dinner and walked back to the other side of campus where Barb Johnson’s dorm was. Barb was a sophomore Math major in one of Fiddleford’s gen-ed courses, and was also in an introductory physics course. Fiddleford masterfully persuaded her to let Emma May shower at her dorm for the week, so long as Ford, to his discontent, did her physics homework for the next two weeks (“ Why does it have to be me?” Ford had asked. “Because I have a girlfriend coming and I won’t have time to do it. Besides, your love for homework practically equates to the love I have for Emma May, so it’ll be like we both have our partners here.” Fiddleford smirked, and Ford jokingly punched his arm.)
They walked in a triangle, with the couple at the front and Ford trailing behind them. Fiddleford and Emma May were catching up about their hometown.
“And have ya heard from anyone else?” Fiddleford asked.
“Well,” Emma May responded. “Someone I did hear from recently was Darl.”
Ford noticed Fiddleford’s shoulders tense. “Oh, yeah? What’d he say?”
“He came by askin’ about you.”
“Well, what’d’ya tell him?”
“That yer at college studying physics and engineerin’, hun. Y’know he’s workin’ as a cashier at a fast food joint? Most stable job he’s had in three years.”
Fiddleford turned to look at Emma May, and for a second Ford could see his profile expressing sympathy and concern.
“Ah, well. You know what my momma always said: big hat, no cattle.”
The remainder of the walk was silent. When they got to the girl’s dormitory Barb was already standing outside waiting for them. She introduced herself to Emma May and let her in. Ford and Fiddleford sat on the stoop watching the sun go down.
“Well,” Ford said gruffly, breaking the silence. “Emma May seems very nice.”
“You really think so?” Fiddleford responded, smiling back at him. “I think she’s really somethin’.”
“Yeah, and your accent came out almost immediately when you two were talking.” Ford’s words were falling out of his mouth before he could stop them. He laughed awkwardly after making the statement.
“Well, at least I’ve got an accent! Aren’t you from Jersey? Where’s the crazy accent, huh? ” Fiddleford said, emphatically gesturing with his hands and speaking with a terrible New Jersey accent.
Ford belly laughed. “Fidd, that was awful.”
As they were laughing, Emma May came out of the door freshly showered, though still in the day’s clothes. “Well, fellas,” she said. “Shall we?” And they left to head back to the boys dormitory. Fiddleford walked between Ford and Emma May, as he continued talking side by side about the lab project with Ford; they were thinking of what would be the best idea, possible problems with any of those said ideas, how to troubleshoot those problems, it was an entertaining conversation to say the least.
When they arrived upstairs, Fiddleford and Ford left the room for Emma May to change, while they went into the bathroom to prepare for nighttime. When Emma May got back, the night wound down pretty quickly. The lights were turned off and Ford sat in bed reading under a portable book light Fiddleford had made for him (the lightbulb had an adjustable brightness setting, and the battery was far more efficient than regular commercial batteries). As he tried to focus on his textbook, he became hyper aware of the fact that there was a woman in Fiddleford’s bed. Another living, breathing person sleeping very closely to Fiddleford, it was off-putting. He hadn’t really given much thought to what the sleeping arrangements were going to be, and he supposed that it would be silly for Emma May to sleep on the floor, but his lack of forethought made him crawl in his skin a little bit. He stared at the page of the textbook without turning it for another minute or so before closing it shut and putting it down. He turned away from the other bed to face the wall. He didn’t get much sleep that night.