Tristan shoved his duffel bag into the overhead rack on the plane. He was
going back to Connecticut, but to to Hartford, and definitely not back to
Chilton. His family had moved to Easton, a town among the wealthiest in
the richest county (Fairfield) in the United States.
It was June 1st, 2002. Military school had let out the day before, and his father had agreed to let him come home.
The past six months had been hard on Tristan. Yeah, the academy had straightened him out. He was a different person now. Much more mellow. However, he had never gotten used to waking up at 4:30 in the morning, running several miles each day, and eating what could only be identified as 'lumpy gray stuff'.
Settling into his seat, he pulled his discman and a few CDs out from his backpack and then pushed it down under the seat in front of him. He had a window seat, and it didn't look like a very crowded flight. He might not even get a seatmate.
Tristan pulled out a CD with nothing written on it, one of the many he had burned. Curious, he clicked it into place, closed the top, and pressed 'play'.
A soft drum and guitar introduced the song, and he recognized it as John Mayer's "Back to You". He remembered. He had burnt this CD right before he had left. They were songs that reminded him of Rory. A bunch of John Mayer's, a PJ Harvey, several Dashboard Confessional's, some he didn't know.
Back to you
It always comes around
Back to you
I tried to forget you
I tried to stay away
But it's too late
Making sure no one was behind him ('This flight really is empty'), he reclined the seat and incresed the volume, turning the knob slowly with his thumb. He closed his eyes.
Over you
I'm never over
Over you
Something about you
It's just the way you move
The way you move me
Tristan was glad he didn't have to go back to Chilton. He didn't want to see her. He had kidded himself about her. Thinking she actually cared. She didn't. She loved Dean. And although he knew Rory didn't actually hate him, he didn't want to know the truth. He didn't want to know why she had wanted him to find another way the night he left.
Yeah I'm so good at forgetting
And I quit every game I've played
But forgive me love
I can't turn and walk away
The seat next to him shifted and he opened his eyes to see a middle-aged buisness man sit down. The two made eye contact, smiled and nodded at each other, and Tristan closed his eyes again.
Back to you
It always comes around
Back to you
I walk with your shadow
I'm sleeping in my bed
With your silhouette Yeah
Should have smiled in that picture
If it's the last that I'll see of you
It's the least that you could not do
That reminded him. He didn't have any pictures of Rory. Good. Oh, wait. There was the sophomore yearbook. 'But,' He thought, 'I didn't take it to school, and it probably got lost in the move or something.' Tristan blinked his eyes open once more and noticed an attendant motioning to him to take his headphones off. As she listed the safety procedures about oxygen masks and floating seats, he suddenly really wanted to be home. Granted, he hadn't even seen his new house, he wanted to be in his own bed, with his own stereo blasting.
Oh I will
Leave the light on
I'll never give up on you
Leave the light on
For me too
Too late. He had given up. Maybe 'given up' wasn't the right term. He had gotten over her, hadn't he? 'Gotten over' wasn't right either. Then he wouldn't be this bitter. It didn't have a term. Now the woman in the blue uniform was saying something about electronics. He slid his hand into his pocket and turned off his cell phone. No one would call anyway. Everyone that knew his number knew he was flying. Maybe his roommate Evan, and a few other friends from the academy. The only person in Connecticut (besides his family) who knew he was coming back was his best friend Brett.
Back to me
I know that it comes
Back to me
Doesn't it scare you
Your will is not as strong
As it used to be
Tristan changed the CD and watched through the window as they began moving.
It was June 1st, 2002. Military school had let out the day before, and his father had agreed to let him come home.
The past six months had been hard on Tristan. Yeah, the academy had straightened him out. He was a different person now. Much more mellow. However, he had never gotten used to waking up at 4:30 in the morning, running several miles each day, and eating what could only be identified as 'lumpy gray stuff'.
Settling into his seat, he pulled his discman and a few CDs out from his backpack and then pushed it down under the seat in front of him. He had a window seat, and it didn't look like a very crowded flight. He might not even get a seatmate.
Tristan pulled out a CD with nothing written on it, one of the many he had burned. Curious, he clicked it into place, closed the top, and pressed 'play'.
A soft drum and guitar introduced the song, and he recognized it as John Mayer's "Back to You". He remembered. He had burnt this CD right before he had left. They were songs that reminded him of Rory. A bunch of John Mayer's, a PJ Harvey, several Dashboard Confessional's, some he didn't know.
Back to you
It always comes around
Back to you
I tried to forget you
I tried to stay away
But it's too late
Making sure no one was behind him ('This flight really is empty'), he reclined the seat and incresed the volume, turning the knob slowly with his thumb. He closed his eyes.
Over you
I'm never over
Over you
Something about you
It's just the way you move
The way you move me
Tristan was glad he didn't have to go back to Chilton. He didn't want to see her. He had kidded himself about her. Thinking she actually cared. She didn't. She loved Dean. And although he knew Rory didn't actually hate him, he didn't want to know the truth. He didn't want to know why she had wanted him to find another way the night he left.
Yeah I'm so good at forgetting
And I quit every game I've played
But forgive me love
I can't turn and walk away
The seat next to him shifted and he opened his eyes to see a middle-aged buisness man sit down. The two made eye contact, smiled and nodded at each other, and Tristan closed his eyes again.
Back to you
It always comes around
Back to you
I walk with your shadow
I'm sleeping in my bed
With your silhouette Yeah
Should have smiled in that picture
If it's the last that I'll see of you
It's the least that you could not do
That reminded him. He didn't have any pictures of Rory. Good. Oh, wait. There was the sophomore yearbook. 'But,' He thought, 'I didn't take it to school, and it probably got lost in the move or something.' Tristan blinked his eyes open once more and noticed an attendant motioning to him to take his headphones off. As she listed the safety procedures about oxygen masks and floating seats, he suddenly really wanted to be home. Granted, he hadn't even seen his new house, he wanted to be in his own bed, with his own stereo blasting.
Oh I will
Leave the light on
I'll never give up on you
Leave the light on
For me too
Too late. He had given up. Maybe 'given up' wasn't the right term. He had gotten over her, hadn't he? 'Gotten over' wasn't right either. Then he wouldn't be this bitter. It didn't have a term. Now the woman in the blue uniform was saying something about electronics. He slid his hand into his pocket and turned off his cell phone. No one would call anyway. Everyone that knew his number knew he was flying. Maybe his roommate Evan, and a few other friends from the academy. The only person in Connecticut (besides his family) who knew he was coming back was his best friend Brett.
Back to me
I know that it comes
Back to me
Doesn't it scare you
Your will is not as strong
As it used to be
Tristan changed the CD and watched through the window as they began moving.
