This is a modern version of Emma with an obvious gender reversal. Enjoy! Please review! Story is being completed and all chapters will be posted by end of July.
Chapter 1: Meet Patrick Woodhouse
There was something about Patrick Woodhouse that made you both love and hate him. He had the annoying habit of making everything in life seem easy. Not many people – especially women - were immune to his smile, swagger, and short blonde curls. It was hard to articulate the source of Patrick's charm. It might have been his confidence, ease, or his ability to command a room. Whatever it was, it was clear that the world was his to conquer. At one point in our lives we've all met Patrick Woodhouse. At one point in our lives most of us have either cursed or fallen in love with a Patrick Woodhouse. He was that guy: the guy guys wanted to have a beer with and the guy girls wanted to snatch up.
"Just pick one already!" his friend Taylor urged at the bar one night. "Seriously, Pat. There are about five girls staring at you right now from what I can see. Put them out of their misery and just talk to one, will you?"
Patrick smirked. "It's just too easy. Now where's the fun in that?"
"Ok..." Taylor was trying to understand his friend's twisted logic. "So you want a girl who doesn't want you...?"
"Oh no, I want her to want me." Patrick said. "I just don't want to her to be so eager. That's a bad sign."
"Yeah that makes absolutely no sense whatsoever." Taylor said.
"Yup." admitted Patrick. "But then it wouldn't be me, would it?"
"You're insane, but at least you're interesting. I'll give you that."
Taylor and Patrick had been friends since high school, witnessing both the best and worst of each other with endurance. After eight years of school, women, and the in-betweens they'd become more like brothers. Now in their fourth and final year in college, the pair was opening up their special club to one more person – a much needed third roommate for their apartment. They had spent all summer searching without success and with school almost upon them, they were running out of time to secure one. Out of sheer desperation, Taylor agreed to give the spot to a transfer student that had contacted him online.
"I hope this guy is normal." Patrick said. "The last guy we met with was a mouth breather who collected action figures." He cringed, recalling the awkward memory. "So what's this guy's name again?"
"Harry." Taylor answered.
Patrick raised his eyebrow. "What kind of name is Harry? Is this kid a wizard or something?"
"Physics major, actually." Taylor answered.
So basically the same thing, Patrick thought. "When is he meeting us?" he asked Taylor.
"About ten minutes ago." he said, looking at his watch.
"Cool." Patrick said. "So, while we wait, tell me how things are going with you and Maggie."
Taylor laughed. "Why are you always so interested? You're like a chick!"
"Hey! Take that back." Patrick defended himself. "I just like to revel in my victory. If that's not manly, I don't know what is. After all, I was the one to introduce you two freshman year."
"Yeah, and you won't let me forget it." Taylor commented.
"You two are cute. Remember to name your first born after me." Patrick joked.
Taylor's ears turned ever-so-slightly red at his friend's words. "Hey, that sounds better than becoming an eternal bachelor like you."
"You say 'bachelor' like it's a bad thing!" cried a surprised Patrick over the noise.
"Excuse me? Are you two Patrick and Taylor?"
The two friends whipped around and came face to face with their new roommate, Harry. If Patrick Woodhouse was that guy, Harry Smith definitely wasn't. Standing in the crowded, loud bar, he looked pretty insecure and small, which was an accomplishment considering he was so tall. He had a thin frame without much muscle and, on a Friday night, made the bold and unsuccessful choice of wearing a plaid button down shirt to a college bar.
The boys greeted him with enthusiasm. It didn't take more than five minutes to discover that Harry was a genuinely nice person. That alone set him apart from the rest of their poor roommate prospects. Patrick and Taylor's anxiety about living with a stranger started to dissolve.
"So Harry, when are you moving in?" Taylor asked
"Well, Friday I guess. If that's ok with you, that is..." he answered.
"Sure thing!" Patrick said, handing him another drink. "I'm not doing anything, so I'll help you."
"Wow, that would be really great!" Poor Harry seemed astonished that anyone would be so ready and willing to help him.
"Don't mention it. What are roommates for?" Patrick asked. His pocket started vibrating. The screen of his phone flashed ZOE KNIGHTLEY. He smiled "Excuse me guys, but I have to take this."
Patrick stepped outside the bar for a second and flipped open his phone. "What's up, Knightley?"
"I have a flat tire and I'm pretty sure my little sister used my spare to make a swing in our back yard." the familiar voice said quickly on the other end.
"What do you want me to do about it?"
"Patrick!"
"I'm kidding, I'm kidding!" he assured her. "Where are you? I'll come pick you up."
"I'm at the sketchy gas station on the corner of 5th and Madison." Zoe said.
Patrick winced. "Ok then, I'll make sure to hurry."
"What's all that noise in the background?" she asked.
"Oh...that. I'm outside of O'Grady's right now." he explained.
"Wait! Patrick, you haven't been drinking have you?"
"I've had one beer. I'm fine to drive. I promise." he said. One could always count on Zoe to be cautious and over protective.
He heard her sigh with relief. "Ok, good. See you soon."
"On my way." he hung up the phone and went back inside to his roommates.
"Hey guys, I have to split. Zoe has a flat tire. Can you two get home ok?" he asked.
"Sure." Taylor said.
"Who's Zoe?" Harry asked curiously.
"Oh. She's just my brother's fiancé's sister." Patrick explained with a nonchalant smirk.
Taylor laughed at Harry's confused expression. "Do you really have to explain it that way every time? After all, you and Zoe knew each other before your siblings started dating. Would it kill you to just say 'friends'?"
"No," Patrick smiled mischievously, tossing his keys in the air and catching them. "but my way is more fun."
