Chapter Text
“So … Dustin, huh?”
She doesn’t know why she says it. After all, she did just witness the two of them arguing quite loudly in Kimberly’s driveway.
But she’s had Elle alone on her car for approximately long enough for her to realize that this might be the longest they’ve been alone together, and Elle Woods notorious chatterbox is strangely silent so—
It’s just the first thing to come to mind. The two of them on top of Kimberly’s table singing their hearts out.
The way Dustin seemed to look at her.
The way Elle seemed to look at him.
I mean, Liz wouldn’t exactly call herself a romance guru but she did have two eyes and a working brain.
“Oh.” Elle blinks from the passenger seat at the words, the furrow between her blonde brows smoothing out in a way that makes Liz feel strangely relieved.
Because Elle sitting there frowning in her passenger seat for that long felt unnatural, obviously. Liz didn’t even know she could make faces like that until all of five minutes ago.
“No, not Dustin.” Elle is quick to shake her head with the words, and Liz’s brows arch in response.
“Right, right,” Liz replies with a slow nod, both of her hands on the wheel as she comes to a stop at a stop sign. “There was something about a crush, yeah?” Liz’s head tilts as she glances to Elle. Liz’s brows raise. “On somebody you shouldn’t have a crush on?”
Elle seems to swallow delicately. Liz watches the movement in waiting, gaze catching Elle’s almost sheepish smile as she says, “You heard that, huh…”
“I mean, yeah.” A shrug of Liz’s shoulders as she moves into the intersection. “I was like, right there, so. Heard a lot of it.”
A beat of silence again. Liz’s gaze flicks towards Elle once and then twice as the silence stretches.
“So …” The word is stretched out in waiting, Liz driving carefully even as her eyes catch a glimpse of Elle’s fingers tangling together in a fidget. She blinks once before shifting in her seat, mouth opening and closing before she’s adding, “You don’t have to tell me, you know.” She sees the way Elle’s gaze falls to her out of the corner of her gaze as she stops at another stop sign, shrugging as she stiltedly adds, “Just … making conversation.”
Poorly, apparently.
Fuck.
For not the first time she has to wonder why Elle wants to be friends with her so badly. Of course, she heard Elle’s voicemail, and yeah, maybe that — explained things a little. Maybe even left an — impact or whatever.
(Okay, maybe more than maybe. That’s kind of the whole reason why Liz was at the party at all after all—)
But they still had barely anything in common. Liz wasn’t entirely sure what to talk to Elle about and – she was sure it showed.
Now especially.
And Elle had to see it too. That as much as Elle might like Liz for not giving a fuck or whatever, that they were probably fundamentally incompatible in some way that—
“It’s Miles!” Elle’s next words are blurted out in a rush that interrupts her thoughts, quick and fast like perhaps she’s ripping off a too pink bandaid.
Liz jolts into a blink, mouth opening and closing in surprise at the answer she kind of stopped expecting. Her brows furrow briefly.
Oh.
Oh shit.
“... Miles.” She replies slowly, trying passively to scrub any judgement from her features. “Shannon’s–”
A sharp nod of Elle’s blonde head. “Yup.”
“Okay.” A stark nod of Liz’s own, wheels turning in her mind as her brows furrow further in thought. “And that’s why Kimberly—”
Another bobble of Elle’s head. “Yeah.”
“Right.” Another slow nod as Liz processes, her bottom lip sucked between her teeth as she makes a turn. “Shitty of her to do, by the way.” She adds as an afterthought, tone briefly gentled or, well. As gentle as she can get it. Her eyes flick to Elle as they come to a stoplight. “To call you that, I mean.”
Somehow Liz isn’t expecting Elle to already be looking at her as she turns her gaze, isn’t expecting the softness growing in Elle’s eyes as their gazes meet. Elle’s tone is equally soft as she replies, as she tangles her manicured fingers in her lap. “ … Thanks, Liz.”
Liz swallows dry. Her mumble of ‘no problem’ is lost in the sound of a horn honking behind them.
When she turns back to the road the light is green.
“... She’s just protective.” Liz adds as she accelerates, because there’s a strange feeling twisting in her stomach at the thought of leaving it at just that.
God knows why the fuck she’d feel like she’d have to defend Kimberly of all people. Fuck if she deserves it.
And yet, still Liz’s lips find themself moving nearly independently of herself.
“Of Shannon, I think.” A nod. “They’ve known each other a long time.”
It’s like those words trigger something. Liz doesn’t even know what, all she knows is that suddenly Elle is shifting in her seat to face her, one hand on the beat up glove compartment of Liz’s used car and the other on the back of her cheap fabric seats as she insists, “Which I totally get! They’re best friends! And if I knew that someone was trying to go after my best friend’s boyfriend I’d absolutely get defensive too!”
Liz blinks at the shift in demeanor, at the rush in which Elle seems to be eager to explain herself, glancing Elle’s way just in time to see her deflate a bit as her blonde brows pull together again. “I mean, I wouldn’t put …” Elle’s voice lowers softly at the next word, “slut on her locker. But the sentiment I understand…”
Despite herself, there’s something about seeing Elle dim like that that doesn’t feel quite right.
It’s that something that has Liz uttering a simple, “But you’re not.” Elle looks up at her at the words, brows furrowing in confusion that makes Liz elaborate with a nod, “Trying to go after Shannon’s boyfriend. You’re not doing that.”
“No!” That passion is back again as Elle leans in towards her, blue eyes meeting Liz’s in a way that she has to look back to the road to avoid. “I would never do that! I didn’t even know that they were a thing when I started—”
Liz arches a brow. “Liking him?”
Elle seems to be sheepish at the words, sighing through her nostrils to say, “... It’s more of a crush than anything.” She shifts a bit in her seat then, moving to practically curl up into it as her brows furrow to add, “He was pretty much the only person who was nice to me when I got here...”
And just like that Liz feels like shit.
Maybe it’s Elle’s words. Maybe it’s the downtrodden look on her perky face.
But either way Liz feels a stab of guilt that persists when Elle shakes her pretty blonde head with an utterance of, “It’s – probably silly.”
Liz swallows hard and hopes she swallows some of her guilt with it, her head shaking to say, “... That’s not … silly.”
Liz can feel Elle’s hopeful gaze finding her as she makes a turn, can see the almost grateful softening of Elle’s smile out of the corner of her eye.
She tries to ignore it. Mostly because she doesn’t know what to do with it or how to respond. And because she isn’t quite sure how this became a conversation about boys, how Liz has become the person that Elle feels comfortable talking to about stuff like that—
Somehow she doesn’t feel like she should be. After all, wasn’t she one of those people who wasn’t nice to Elle when she came here?
Thankfully Elle is talking again before she has to figure out what to say next.
“... I had it in my head that maybe he liked me back and he’d sweep me off my feet and—” Elle’s voice is soft and wistful and hesitant as she speaks, her tone low like she’s — confiding this in Liz of all people. The shake of Elle’s head is sweet like she’s trying to clear it as she says, “Be … my first kiss or something.”
It takes a moment for the words to register.
And then two.
Liz blinks hard.
The car jerks to a stop at another stop sign.
“... I’m sorry, what?” An arch of both of Liz’s brows, her eyes now solely on Elle to say, “You haven’t had your first kiss?”
The emphasis isn’t — purposeful. Honestly, Liz didn’t really intend to put it there, just as she didn’t intend to allow her eyes to flick over Elle, from the pretty top of her blonde head to the pink swimsuit she’s clad in and— yeah, Liz knows she said that Elle bought the thing because she thought she looked good in it but the thing is Elle wasn’t wrong in that thought—
“Why does everyone keep reacting like that?” The words are nearly an uncharacteristic whine in Elle’s sweet voice, a feat that drags Liz’s gaze away from where it really shouldn’t be in the first place, moving to watch as Elle’s hands gesture between them to say, “I have very specific criteria for a first kiss! I want it to be special!”
“Hey, I’m not judging! Like at all.” Liz is sure to say, her hands raising in innocence as much as they can while gripping the steering wheel, which in truth just means her fingers have raised from the leather. But still. “Just —” A fumble for words, a shrug as she moves to carefully accelerate. “Shocked that I had my first kiss before Elle Woods, is all.”
“Wait, you did?” Elle’s question is honest then, sweet and excited like — this was girl talk or something. And maybe it was. Was it? Liz couldn’t really tell. She’s never really had girl talk before to be able to make the assessment. Either way Elle is beaming as she leans across the console between them, as her sparkly blue eyes meet Liz’s with enthusiasm to say, “Was it special?”
“Um.” Liz isn’t sure if it’s the weight of Elle’s eager gaze or the memory of her first kiss – and others – making her feel the slightest bit warm under the collar. Not quite in a blush but — maybe like there’s suddenly a spotlight shining down on her? Either way her mouth opens before it closes before it awkwardly opens again, “I don’t know if — special is the word I’d use.” Liz shrugs then, her expression scrunching slightly as she makes a face to say, “It was kind of awful, I think? I had no idea what I was doing. But it got better after … I don’t know.” A thoughtful frown, casual as she adds, “The fourth or fifth time?”
Liz is momentarily distracted by stopping for an old lady to cross in front of them, her gaze so focused on the road that she doesn’t notice the fall of Elle’s expression until she turns to glance at her in the silence.
“Really?” Elle replies then, her expression scrunched in empathy. “I’m sorry.”
“What?” A blink before Liz is waving a hand dismissively between them. “Oh, no, I’m not upset about it or anything.” She shrugs. “I mean, everyone’s first kiss kind of sucks, right? Doesn’t really matter.”
Elle’s expression falls dramatically further.
Liz blinks.
“What?” Despite evenness of her tone Liz can almost feel the uptick of panic, because, fuck, she thought she was finally at least kind of getting the hang of this whole being-friends-with-Elle thing. “What’s happening right now? What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know, I—” Elle’s features twist a bit. “I guess I — never really thought about the possibility that it would be bad.”
Liz blinks at that for a second before she huffs a laugh, something like relief filling her at the shift in demeanor not being too serious.
“Oh, come on, Elle,” She replies as she glances at the street to see the old lady about just over half way across the road. “No one’s first kiss is great, it’s like — a right of passage.”
“But that doesn’t fit my criteria, like, at all.” Elle argues then, head shaking and still leaning across the console as she meets Liz’s eyes again and this time, there is nothing to distract her from meeting Elle’s blue eyes right back. “My first kiss is supposed to be – magical! Fireworks are supposed to go off!” Her brows pull down in doubt. “What if it isn’t everything I dreamed of?” A dramatic gasp, her hands gripping Liz’s console as she leans further across it, nearly nose to nose with Liz as she says, “What if I’m bad at it and I ruin it?”
Liz’s brows arch slowly, expression near deadpan.
“... Okay, I feel like I might have triggered some panic here.” Liz starts slowly, “I want to remind you that everyone’s first kiss sucks. It’s like a pretty universal thing. Like puberty or acne even if—” Liz glances over Elle’s features before her, tries to ignore that Elle is close enough for her to count her mascaraed lashes— “You — suspiciously don’t have any, I stand by my point here—”
“Liz, can I ask you something?” The words are blurted out so fast that Liz has to wonder if any of her words actually registered.
A glance to see the old lady is still not fully across the street followed by an exhale through Liz’s nostrils. Her head turns back to allow her eyes to meet Elle’s again. “... Sure, Elle.”
Elle’s soft blue eyes flick over Liz’s features in a way that makes her suddenly way too aware of what her face is doing. Liz resists the urge to shift in her seat for it.
“What …” Elle pauses then, seeming to fumble for words a bit as she toys with her manicured fingers. “Made it … good for you?”
Liz’s brows knit together. Her head shakes as she shrugs and asks, “What made what good for me?”
Elle seems almost sheepish for a moment, her voice lowering further even as she says, “... Kissing.”
A blink.
A beat where she swears she must have misheard.
Followed by the sudden widening of Liz’s eyes when she realizes she apparently didn’t.
“... You’re asking what made kissing good for me?” Liz asks incredulously. She stares at Elle then, wondering briefly if the dizzying smell of Elle’s perfume had gone straight to her head and this was all some strange mirage caused by fumes. Her features twist to ask, “Elle are you asking what I like?”
“Just in general!” Elle rushes to explain, hands gesturing between them and brows furrowing anew. “I’ve talked to Madison about this kind of thing a little but you—” A beat then, before she’s seeming to consider Liz, eyes flicking over her in a way that feels different than it did before, that makes Liz swallow dry as Elle adds a gentle, “I mean, you kiss girls, right?”
“... Yeah, Elle.” Liz replies on near autopilot, stunned even with the deadpan arch of her brows. “I kiss girls.”
The words feel like they have new weight as Elle looks at her now, her eyes wide and blue and pleading in a way that makes Liz’s mouth vaguely dry.
“So, realistically if anybody,” Elle rushes to explain then, gesturing to Liz in the space between them. “You would know what — I could do to be a good kisser. You know, speaking as a — recipient.” Elle’s pretty head tilts. “Right?”
Liz’s eyes bulge.
Because, okay, yeah, Liz has kissed girls but only like — two. And one hasn’t really talked to her since.
That doesn’t make her some kind of girl kissing expert.
She swallows hard, tries to even her voice as she slowly says, “Okay, fine. Maybe me kissing girls gives me a — different perspective on the whole thing but —” A brief fumble for words, Liz’s brows pinching together, “I wouldn’t even know how to describe something like that to you—”
“Could you show me then?” Elle asks then.
Simple as that.
Like that’s not an insane thing to say.
Liz kind of feels like her brain might be short circuiting. Her brows raise into her hairline.“What?”
“I mean, me and Madison used to practice kissing on our hands when we were younger—” Elle begins to explain, words rushing, and Liz’s features scrunch in bewilderment.
“Who the hell is Madison?” Liz starts in confusion, before she’s shaking her head as if to clear it, a hand coming up between them and waving through the air to say, “Doesn’t matter, Elle, I am not kissing my hand—”
“No, that’s —” This time it’s Elle who seems to fumble for words, eyes wide and blue and pleading as she looks at Liz to say, “I was wondering if you could kiss me, actually.”
And for a brief moment Liz can actually hear the blood rushing in her ears.
“... What?” The word is uttered with a blink, Liz’s brain trying to process past the fact that Elle Woods just asked her to kiss her.
“For practice.” Elle rushes to elaborate, and Liz can only blink a second time.
“You want me to kiss you.” Liz repeats slowly, brows furrowing to clarify, “So you can practice?”
“Please?” Elle asks, gaze pleading as it meets Liz’s and for a second all coherent thought comes to a full stop.
Elle seems to take Liz’s silence as the permission to explain that it is.
“Madison is my best friend from LA. And we practiced on our hands when we were little in preparation to kiss Emilio Estevez but —” A shake of Elle’s blonde head. “Now I’m not even sure if that worked, and I won’t know until my actual first kiss which — is nervewrecking! And— I’m Elle Woods! I’ve practiced cheer routines and speeches and I don’t know how it never occurred to me to prepare for something as big as this—”
Liz’s brows raise farther. “You want to prepare to make out with somebody.”
“It’s more than just making out. It’s my first kiss. It’s important to me. I want to feel — confident.” Elle replies genuinely then, voice soft and despite herself Liz can feel a telltale tug on her heart strings. Elle gestures with both hands to add a sincere, “You can totally say no and I’d completely understand—”
“But if you kiss me then wouldn’t your first kiss be with me?” The words are blurted out before Liz can think better of them, her brow furrowing in bewilderment.
“... It would be practice between friends. Like with Madison. It wouldn’t fully count.” Elle explains gently then, her fingers tangling in an almost shy fidget and—
There it is again.
What the fuck is with Elle Woods and wanting to be Liz’s friend?
Is this a – friendly thing? Even? Liz isn’t quite sure. It’s not like she’s got many girl friends to come to a consensus here, not like Elle who seems to fall back on her history with Madison in a way that makes this seem normal—
And fuck, maybe it is. Maybe this is the kind of shit that Liz missed out on at sleepovers.
It wouldn’t fully count.
Liz’s lips twitch, and for a second a rejection is on the tip of her tongue. For a second she’s ready to utter it.
But then she makes the mistake of breaking her train of thought to look at Elle, to meet Elle’s soft gaze and see that hope there and that pang of guilt is back and—
Would teaching Elle Woods to kiss even make up for kind of being a dick to her when she came to town? Is that even logical?
Fuck, is any of this logical?
Jesus Christ–
“... Okay. Fine. I’ll do it.” Liz replies despite herself, not knowing what in the world has possessed her and almost immediately kind of wanting to take it back as she looks at Elle’s face, at the too pretty curl of her long eyelashes and the parting of her pink lips in surprise.
But it’s when Elle lights up that she knows it’s too late for take backs, when the blonde brightens in a way that Liz almost feels like she has to look away from. Like when you look directly into the sun or something. The sound in the back of Elle’s throat is bright. “Really?”
“Yeah.” Liz replies with a sigh, her lips twitching despite herself in light of Elle’s excitement. “Fuck it.”
Elle squeals.
Like full on squeals.
Liz is almost glad for the honk that comes from behind them, that reminds her that they’re at a now empty intersection. She has to briefly wonder when the old lady abandoned her.
“Okay, okay, which is better.” Liz blinks at the sound of Elle’s voice turning only to find Elle holding up two separate lip glosses for her examination. “Strawberry.” The pink lip gloss is held up high. “Or cherry?”
Liz’s lips part silently, eyes going wide.
Elle’s serious expression stares back at her before she’s smiling, dimpled and charming and—
“Oh, you mean, now.” Liz utters then, brows arching wide in something akin to shock. “You want to practice now.”
Elle’s brows arch in surprise then, her nod a bobbing thing and, “There’s no time like the present and Elle Woods is no procrastinator!”
She looks between the lip glosses in her hands, frowning with a hum. “How many times did you say it took for you to get good again?”
For a moment Liz flatlines. No brain function. Maybe she dies.
The guy behind them leans on the horn and it’s with that that Liz remembers to breathe, inhaling all at once as if resuscitated and—
“ … I’m pulling over.” Liz announces simply as Elle seems to still be busying herself with her lip gloss collection.
Liz tries not to think too hard about the fact that Elle is still in a bikini.
Tries not to think about where she’s even been keeping them—
“Great!” Elle’s tone is cheerful. “We can sit and decide together!”
The fuck has she gotten herself into?