Disclaimer: Just so you know...I own nothing. It all belongs to Amy Sherman-Palladino and the WB. So please don't sue me, it won't get you anywhere.
How Do I Make You Understand?
Oh, God. There he was. The guy who had literally made her life a living hell for the past two years. As if on cue, Tristan DuGrey looked up from his daily make-out session with that week's flavor, caught Rory's eye, and proceeded to stroll over to her as if the other students should have been kissing the ground he was walking on.
"Morning, Mary..."
"What could you possibly want now, Tristan?" Rory replied, not about to take any of his holier-than-thou crap.
"Oh, just wondering if you'd want to go somewhere...you know, get away from it all...have a little alone time..."
"Right, Tristan. And as much as I'd like to join you in whatever sex fest you're currently involved in, I do believe that I've already fulfilled my daily dose of torture just by talking to you for the past five minutes." And with that, Rory stalked off, hoping against all hopes that he would just leave her alone.
He repulsed her. But to give Tristan DuGrey any credit, at least he knew it. However, he was anything but repulsed by her. In fact, he often found himself just thinking about the way her hair fell in waves across her face, or about how her blue eyes sparkled during one of their banter sessions. But for all he tried, Tristan could not figure out why he was so infatuated with her. Lorelai Leigh Gilmore was everything that he normally ran from. She wasn't ditzy, she wasn't rich, and she wasn't easy. She wouldn't go for an hour of making out and think nothing of it; and she could actually hold up her end of an intelligent conversation. So why was he drawn to her in the same way that a moth is drawn to a flame? Why did he yearn to be the one who she looked at for comfort and caring? No matter how he tried, he could not figure it out.
But yet...he loved everything about her. He just wished that she felt the same way.