Seven days.

One week had passed since Eleanor had last shown up at school. Elmo was starting to feel terribly worried about her.

The rat boy hadn't been able to sleep the night after the match. He had been lying awake in his bed for hours and hours on end, tossing and turning and feeling like an awful friend. He had not been able to protect Eleanor. Regardless of her request to refrain from taking a stand for her, he should have done just that. He had dared to face and attack Anthony when he had badmouthed her. But he had failed her this time.

Elmo had tried to call her, every single day, but Eleanor hadn't answered the phone. He had not turned up at her home yet, though. He was afraid that she didn't want to see him after everything that had happened, that she would send him away – deeply hurt and disappointed. And he had to admit that he was feeling pretty awkward himself.

Last Friday's events had spread like wildfire among the students. "The seminude freak" was the number one topic of conversation. The mere mention of it made the rat boy's fellow students double up with laughter.

"Why didn't you take a picture?" all those who had not seen Eleanor in her underwear would ask.

Others would agree and complain, "No kidding, she would make a nice pin-up in my locker!"

It made Elmo sick inside. He wanted to say something, but he had the feeling that it would make things even worse. He didn't want to draw even more attention to Eleanor. Actually, he was glad she wasn't around to hear all the despicable things they said about her.

"Geez, Sparky, I never knew your girlfriend was such a bombshell!" Hamm roared when he sat down next to the rat boy during lunch break.

"Seriously, watch it, you might get burned!" Preena crowed and both burst out laughing.

Elmo's nerves were stretched to breaking point. It took all his energy not to lose his temper again. He knew that was exactly what they wanted. So he rose to his feet instead and walked away, their taunts and shrill laughter reverberating in his head.

He was caught between the devil and the deep blue sea. He wanted to defend Eleanor, to defend himself and show their fellow students that they had bullied and pushed them around long enough. At the same time he knew that this was far easier said than done. Getting into another fight would bring his teachers to the scene, they would put him in detention again and this time they would also inform his parents about his misconduct. And if he told the teachers that Eleanor was being bullied, he had to tell them exactly what had happened. It wasn't fair to do that without her consent.

The rest of the school day proved to be just as bad. Be it in class or in the corridor, they found the right words to dampen the rat boy's mood even more, and it hit bottom when he entered his English classroom to find a drawing of him and Eleanor on the blackboard, showing them in a tight embrace. Elmo couldn't help his face from blushing and, without a word, hurried to wipe the drawing away so his teacher wouldn't see it.

"Hey, spoilsport! Show some respect! Can't you appreciate a perfect work of art?" someone shouted, but he didn't pay attention to it. Elmo's English teacher entered the room the moment he was finished cleaning the blackboard and smiled at him, obviously thanking him for his act of politeness. If you only knew, he thought and sat down on his chair. He spent the rest of class cursing his fellow students inwardly.

When the rat boy got back home in the afternoon, his parents were still at work. He sat down on a porch chair and tried to do his homework, but his mind wandered off. It was incomprehensible to him why his classmates just wouldn't stop picking on Eleanor. She didn't deserve being treated like this. He wished nobody ill, even though they deserved it, but he hoped that one day they would get their comeuppance.

He didn't blame Eleanor. It wasn't her fault. She had tried so much to abandon her role as an outsider, something he had never done. Elmo had grown a thick skin and had learned to turn a deaf ear to being teased and bullied throughout the years, whereas Eleanor preferred to retreat. It was an appropriate way to handle the situation, but unfortunately she couldn't go ahead with that forever, so he deliberated what he could do to comfort her. He would try to talk to her personally. The rat boy wanted to see his best friend happy again and he already had an idea how to accomplish that.

Elmo went back inside. He tried to call Eleanor one more time to announce his visit, but no chance. So he put on his shoes and set out for her home.

The house seemed perfectly normal from the outside, the flowerbeds were clean, the lawn was cut, the flowers had just recently been watered. Elmo rang the doorbell and waited, but nothing happened. He tried again, pushing the button a little longer this time. Eleanor didn't show up. Maybe she was at Annie's place or out for a walk. He briefly considered walking around the house and peeping into the living room or kitchen window, but he rejected that idea again. It wouldn't make a good impression if the neighbors saw him like that. Elmo turned away and had just started to descend the stairs when the door was opened.

"Elmo?"

He turned around again and saw his best friend standing in the doorframe. She was looking at him incredulously, with a hint of reluctance in her glassy eyes.

"Thank Edison, Eleanor, you're here!" he called and walked up the stairs again.

"Of course I'm here, where else should I be?" she responded roughly. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to know how …," Elmo began. "I wanted to see you. I tried to call you …"

She didn't stop looking daggers at him. She was obviously upset.

"And since you didn't answer the phone, I came here. I had almost given up hope," Elmo said and gave her a warm and encouraging smile. Eleanor didn't return it, though, but stepped aside so he could enter the house.

"Actually, I don't want to see anybody," Eleanor admitted and closed the door behind him.

"Well, in this case … thank you for making an exception," Elmo said and followed her.

The rat girl sat down on the couch in the living room and indicated him to do the same. Elmo did as he was told. Silence fell between the two teenagers and they avoided looking into each other's eyes. Elmo observed Eleanor nevertheless. She wore her gray skirt and washed out blouse. Her hair was tied up in a chaotic bun, with several strands of her hair sticking out like antennas. She wore her glasses, her green eyes stared into space. They were tired and puffy. She had probably cried a lot and was sleep-deprived. Her fur looked dull and she didn't make a healthy impression overall. Elmo moved closer to her and wanted to put his arms around her, but she pushed his hands away and looked even more distressed.

"Please, Elmo … I can't."

It hurt him to see her like this. "I am so sorry, Eleanor," he whispered and hoped that she would look at him already. "I know I should have protected you, I know I should have come to see you a lot earlier, but -"

"Then what's the matter, Elmo? Is this your revenge for my awful behavior last year?" Eleanor blurted out. "If so, I have to tell you that this is a pretty cruel move."

"No, that's not it! I'm sorry if it seemed that way. Please, Eleanor, what else can I do than apologize to you? I didn't mean to hurt you. I … I didn't know what to do … last Friday," he defended himself. It was the truth, yet he knew that he had let her down when she had needed him. "Please forgive me, Eleanor. I would do anything to undo what I've done."

She turned around to face him, watery-eyed, and whispered, "Why am I trying to fool you?" She squinted her eyes and buried her head in her hands. Muted sobs shook her body. Elmo once more tried to comfort her and wrapped his arms around her gently. This time, Eleanor let it happen.

"You're my only friend ... and I … how can I repel you like that? I'm so mean and lousy!" she wept.

"That's not true. I can perfectly understand that you didn't want to see me after everything that happened," he answered. "And it's good that you try to be strong."

"But … but I'm not! Instead I pretend to be mad at you!" Eleanor sniffled.

"You have every right to be mad at me. I should really have been there for you," he tried to calm her down. "As long as you can be happy again, and if it helps you, you can treat me as you wish." He smiled at her, but again, she didn't smile back. She avoided meeting his eyes.

"I'm done with this experiment," Eleanor mumbled. "Once and for all. It's no use. I will always be a laughingstock. Why play dress up?"

"You want to give up what you have worked for all these months?" Elmo asked in bewilderment. Even though it was not quite appropriate of him to react like this, he couldn't help but feel disappointed by her decision.

"I already got rid of my cheerleading outfit and I will do the same with my other new clothes. I'm a freak and I always will be, don't you understand?" Eleanor looked at him desperately.

"Don't say that! You may not meet their expectations, but why should you bother? Trashing your new clothes would be a waste of money and pretty silly as well. Look, I don't want to tell you what to wear. But to me, you seemed much more self-confident, not just on the outside, but on the inside, too." He looked at Eleanor expectantly. She bit her bottom lip.

"Yes," she conceded. "You are right."

"Don't get me wrong, if you want to end your experiment, so be it. I can't force you to carry on. However, you should at least do yourself a favor and feel comfortable in your skin," Elmo said. He gave her a reassuring smile and Eleanor could not help but agree with him. She stood up and went up to her bedroom to change clothes.

It was funny. In the past, she hadn't given much thought to her looks, she hadn't wanted to impress anybody, least of all Elmo. He would always assure her that he liked and accepted her the way she was. And now she was pondering what to wear. The situation in the locker room flashed before her mind's eye. But she had to admit that he was right. She liked herself in her new clothes. She couldn't fool him. And she didn't want to do it ever again.

The rat girl changed into a black sweatshirt and a comfortable pair of jeans. She briefly felt insecure, but then she collected herself, took a long look in the mirror and told herself, "You are pretty." She tried a heartfelt smile and indeed – she liked what she saw.

Elmo was still sitting on the couch, waiting patiently for Eleanor to return. He smiled at her when he saw her reemerge in the doorframe.

"You could have taken a look around," Eleanor mumbled, more to herself than to Elmo. "Make yourself at home."

"Oh, I did!" Elmo responded and walked over to the large sideboard on the opposite wall. Here, Eleanor's father had lined up their family photos. Eleanor could be seen in each and every one of them – as a newborn, a toddler, a preschooler, with shorter hair and a nose that was still pink. A great number of photos showed her in Sweden with her distant relatives. There were photos of teenage Eleanor participating in Model United Nations conferences, chess tournaments, educational summer camps. Her whole life read like a storybook.

"I really like these photos, you know," Elmo said, carefully eyeing them. "It's so interesting to see how people develop and change over the years." Eleanor nodded in agreement.

"This one is my favorite." He picked up one of the midsummer photos. "It tells so much about you."

In this photo, Eleanor was 8 years old. She wore a white dress and a floral wreath in her hair. In the background, her parents and grandparents could be seen, as well as the midsummer pole. The little girl was smiling happily.

"This is one of my favorites, too." Eleanor was delighted that he had chosen this one. "Midsommar is always great fun, family and friends come together to celebrate, eat, drink and play games. You know, Swedes may come across as reserved and shy in the beginning, but they turn out to be very kind and warm-hearted people once you get to know them better. And they know how to have a good time, even when things take an unexpected turn. That really impresses me. They always make the best out of a situation."

"That sounds awesome. Maybe I can make it to Sweden one day," Elmo said and smiled to himself.

Eleanor knew exactly what he was referring to. "Don't be so modest. I'm sure you can make it. And if you do, I want you to take me with you as your travel companion, okay?"

"Why, yes!" he assured her.

"Oh, but there's one important thing you need to know!"

Elmo raised his eyebrows curiously. "Which is?"

"You need to learn how to say sjuksköterska."

Elmo rolled his eyes, grinning, and Eleanor giggled. He put the frame back in its place. "I'm really curious to know what this is going to look like in a few years," he mused. "When you add photos of your own family."

Eleanor blushed. As a little girl, she had dreamed of getting married and raising a family. But this notion had long since faded out of her imagination.

"Would you like to have kids one day?" Elmo startled the rat girl with this out of the blue question. She stared at him, taken aback, before returning her attention to the photos. She loved children and wanted to say yes, but something in her objected. She supposed it was fear. Fear to become like her mother, unable to give her child the love it needed and deserved.

"I don't know," Eleanor answered and, in order to bend both their thoughts away from her, asked him the same.

"Well, I guess I do," Elmo answered. They fell silent. It was an intimate topic to talk about and the tension that was still existent between them didn't make it any easier.

"Oh dear, you've been here for half an hour and I haven't offered you anything to drink!" Eleanor slapped a hand to her forehead suddenly, obviously indignant at herself, and rushed out of the room.

"That's all right," Elmo laughed. "I'm perfectly fine."

"No back talk! I'll get you something", the rat girl replied. Elmo followed her, but she shooed him away. He shrugged, grinning, and went back to the living room.

The rat girl took two glasses from the shelve and a bottle of apple juice from the fridge. She paused to think. She had behaved in a strange fashion; being overly nervous or even stuttering in front of other people was out of character for her. Usually, she would be able to disguise her feelings if they tried to overwhelm her, even – or especially – in front of strangers. But Elmo wasn't a stranger any more, he was her friend.

Friend …

It seemed out of place to call him that. Even though Elmo was the only person she knew that would qualify as such, it didn't match him. By now, the entire student body would assume that they were in a relationship. Why did she have to explain herself for wanting to spend her time with him? She liked him, she valued his opinion, they were friends. But no, even a a six-year-old child like Annie had deemed them a couple.

Eleanor picked up the glasses with a sigh and left the kitchen. She put them down on the living room table and sat down next to Elmo. He thanked her, but didn't avert his eyes from her, she could feel it. The rat girl took her own glass and took a sip, staring out of the window. No matter how Eleanor looked at it – he was no friend any more. She thought back of the way he had examined the photos. She was important to him, she knew that. And she had forgiven him the very moment she had seen him stand in front of the door. Elmo cared for her, he listened to her, he encouraged her and he managed the impossible – he made Eleanor feel hopeful again when she was down in the dumps. He made her feel save, protected, loved – yes, it was a certain kind of love. The way he hugged her, the way he looked at her, the way he gave her advice, the way he allowed her to stay at his place without ever expecting anything in return, the way he cared for her state of mind – all of this gave Eleanor the feeling of belonging, the feeling that she was being loved.

"Are you all right?" Elmo's gentle voice touched her ear.

She felt hot and cold shivers run down her back at the same time and her hand, which still held the glass, was twitching. She stared blankly at the carpet. What was happening? Why did she feel so flustered in his presence?

"You're trembling," Elmo observed and took the glass from her hand before it fell to the ground.

Eleanor was breathing heavily, as if she had just run a marathon. Something was changing, here and now. Something was crumbling down inside her.

"You look pale," the rat boy noted with concern and touched a hand to her forehead. "No temperature. What's wrong with you? Are you feeling sick? Or dizzy? Please tell me what I can do for you." Obviously, he didn't know what to do. But to be frank, Eleanor didn't know either.

"Shall I call in a doctor?" her friend asked and rose to his feet.

"No!" Eleanor rasped. Elmo sat down again and their eyes locked. The rat boy looked at her intently. With his dark eyes. His soft features. His smile. She didn't need a doctor. She needed him. Realization came over Eleanor like rolling thunder and opened her eyes for the truth. She was in love with the young man sitting next to her. She was in love with Elmo.

Eleanor leaped to her feet. Elmo flinched a bit, slightly confused given her quick recovery. He frowned. He had no idea what was going on inside her, didn't know about her emotional roller coaster. The rat girl decided that it would not be right to confess her love to him. Not now. She didn't want to overwhelm him. Thus she just smiled at him, from the bottom of her heart, sat down next to him and held him tight. Elmo returned the gesture and wrapped his arms around her.

I love you, Elmo, Eleanor thought happily. Finally she could be honest with herself, with her feelings.

"Eleanor?" he began.

She disengaged from him and looked at him. "Yes, Elmo?"

"I'm glad to see you're feeling better. And I … um … I'd like to ask you something."

"Oh? What is it?" Eleanor raised her eyebrows.

"Would you like to go to the prom with me?" he asked her point-black.

The question caught Eleanor off guard. She gazed at him with wide eyes. Elmo looked at her in genuine concern. Was it bad timing? But then a broad smile emerged on her face and she hugged him again.

"Yes!" Eleanor answered. "I would love to go to the prom with you." The rat girl released a sigh and closed her eyes. She was beaming with joy. She had a date, her very first date. Eleanor couldn't wait for the big day to come.