Elle Woods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
beyondtheblonde) wrote2015-02-07 12:32 pm
beyondtheblonde) wrote2015-02-07 12:32 pm
Entry tags:
and I'm giving him straight As
Despite her happy-go-lucky exterior, Elle Woods is something of a perfectionist. At UCLA, she ran Delta Nu with a velvet fist, keeping everything in perfect running order and all of her girls happy (or as happy as any group of college girls can be all at the same time), and still managed to maintain her 4.0 GPA. Just because it was in Fashion Merchandising doesn't mean it wasn't hard stuff. Economics is not simple.
Neither is law school, but if there's one class Elle cannot afford to do poorly in, it's Crim Law. After helping out Brooke, it's been in the back of her head that this is totally field. She's good at it and, more importantly, it matter to her. True success is possible only with passion, and she has to follow where her passion takes her.
Passion isn't enough, though, to stuff all this information into her head without serious effort. There's an exam on the horizon, but with her class load, she's had to focus so hard on getting everything else done that Crim's fallen by the wayside, partly because a lot of it comes so naturally to her. That means it's time to buckle down, and buckle down she has.
She's not exactly sure how long she's been studying, her hair pinned up in a messy bun, but Bruiser's on probably his fifth or sixth nap and she's on her fifth or sixth energy drink. Pilates is a godsend, too; she doesn't have to worry about the fact she's eaten half a box of powdered donut holes. She'll just work it all off when she teaches on Monday. And if she doesn't? Whatever, it's so worth it. Her papers are scattered everywhere, books littered with highlighting, notes, and tiny brightly colored post-its marking key passages. Everything is, despite the chaos, in its place.
Except for Elle, who is half-asleep over the pile. It's the sound of a knock at the door that jolts her alert. Bruiser scrambles up from his place on the couch, wandering over to investigate, as if he can see into the hallway, before Elle can get it through her head to stand up. "Coming," she calls, "I'm coming." Once she yanks the door open, she smiles. "Emmett, hey."
Neither is law school, but if there's one class Elle cannot afford to do poorly in, it's Crim Law. After helping out Brooke, it's been in the back of her head that this is totally field. She's good at it and, more importantly, it matter to her. True success is possible only with passion, and she has to follow where her passion takes her.
Passion isn't enough, though, to stuff all this information into her head without serious effort. There's an exam on the horizon, but with her class load, she's had to focus so hard on getting everything else done that Crim's fallen by the wayside, partly because a lot of it comes so naturally to her. That means it's time to buckle down, and buckle down she has.
She's not exactly sure how long she's been studying, her hair pinned up in a messy bun, but Bruiser's on probably his fifth or sixth nap and she's on her fifth or sixth energy drink. Pilates is a godsend, too; she doesn't have to worry about the fact she's eaten half a box of powdered donut holes. She'll just work it all off when she teaches on Monday. And if she doesn't? Whatever, it's so worth it. Her papers are scattered everywhere, books littered with highlighting, notes, and tiny brightly colored post-its marking key passages. Everything is, despite the chaos, in its place.
Except for Elle, who is half-asleep over the pile. It's the sound of a knock at the door that jolts her alert. Bruiser scrambles up from his place on the couch, wandering over to investigate, as if he can see into the hallway, before Elle can get it through her head to stand up. "Coming," she calls, "I'm coming." Once she yanks the door open, she smiles. "Emmett, hey."