Coincidences and Consequences

By Lexy

Disclaimer: Don't own them because if I did, I wouldn't let Dean talk. He makes my ears bleed.

AN: I really don't know were this came from. I should be studying, or doing laundry, not sitting in front of my computer. I hope you all enjoy this.

Have you ever thought about how life is just a really complex series of coincidences? I mean, how one small event happens and you never think about it until it turns into something really big? Every time I sit down to watch TV, I have to laugh at the characters and how they don't see that such and such an action is going to have such and such reaction. They seem so truly clueless of their situation sometimes you have to wonder what the writers are thinking. Do they actually think that we are not going to figure out the plot? That the guy is not going to get the girl? That the girl won't finally realize that they guy only acts that way for her attention? But then I realize that we are as blind in real life. We don't see what is right in front of us until it either blows up or is gone. We do things everyday without regard to the consequences. We fumble through life until that one coincidence that may have happened years or days ago comes roaring back at full speed to say "hi".

Coincidences weren't even on my mind that night. I sat in the common room of my dorm, all of us crowded around the TV for an 80s movie night. We had just gotten to the part in Pretty in Pink when John Cyer is telling Molly Ringwald to go after Andrew McCarthy, and I was yelling at the screen telling her to stay with Duckie, because no matter how many times I see that movie I always hope that the ending will be different, when he came in, asking for directions to room 318. 318 seems like a simple number, but right now I am thinking of having it tattooed on my ass to forever remind me of coincidences.

I didn't recognize him at first, in his jeans, Yale crew sweatshirt, and his hair hidden under a baseball cap. Who would have ever thought he would wear a baseball cap? If I had recognized him I would have never stood up, never lead him through the dorm to number 318. 318 has a magical ring to it, doesn't it? No, I would have stayed riveted in my seat, trying dutifully to hide my existence, and ignore his. But I didn't recognize him, so I did stand up, in my I-am-staying-in-tonight clothes and my hair a mess, and lead him to 318.

"Follow me" I said. No other words, just fell into step in front of him and took off. I didn't turn back until we got to 318. I made note of the girly decorations on the door, and how the 8 was slightly crooked. A large white board was just under the number, full of misshappenly scribbled notes. "5:30 for dinner." "Crew meet on Saturday." "Kerry, went out tonight, be back in the morning. Good luck tonight." The pretty cursive handwriting stands out, taunting me. Good luck tonight... good luck with him. I turn back to him, looking snide because I knew he was there for some ass.

"Thank you, Rory Gilmore," he says to me. Startled I meet his eyes, and I know. Deep blue. Like standing on the edge of a calm lake and when I step in the undertow pulls me down. Down were everything is clear. 318 opens and I am forcefully hauled out of that lake, left cold and shivering. The lake-eyes disappear into the room and in a fury of blonde hair and breasts the door is closed, leaving me there, wet and unsure.

I make my way back to my room, realizations almost blinding me. He had loved me, and I hadn't seen it. He went away so I could be happy. Everything was for me and because of me. And I was too blind to see it. I was one of those girls on the screen that I yell at because she is making a huge mistake and losing the guy that would have been it. But now it is too late. Damn Coincidences!!!

Closing the door, I hope to be able to block out the lake. Try to study, I think, that will help. I pull textbooks from my shelves, but the tears in my eyes, make it hard to read. I look down at my notebook and instead of definitions of terms, I see, doodled over and over, 318 tonight. I throw the pad across the room in disgust. 318.... 318... it mocks me. Out of the corners of the pain, resolution comes. I will not let 318 win!

I throw open the door and meet resistance. Muscled, sweatshirted resistance. I look up and am plunged into the lake again.

"Hello Mary."