Disclaimer: Nothing to do with GG
Rating: R
A/N: Companion piece to Cigarettes and Telephone lines. Basically, Jess is headed back to New York after confronting Rory in her dorm room.
Title: Take it as Far as it'll Go
Drive. Drive drive drive and I'll keep saying that goddamn word until it loses all meaning and just becomes a mix of letters that mean absolutely nothing. Say any word enough times, and eventually you'll forget why you said it in the first fucking place, why you thought it meant so much to begin with.
I'm not going to say her name. I'm not going to think it, say it, breathe it. I'm going to fucking ignore it and I'm going to keep on driving. Hands tighten on wheels. Switch lanes. Move rearview mirror over. Forty miles to New York.
Why do I bother coming to this fucking town anymore? If my mom wanted me at her wedding so much, she could've come up to New York and got me herself. Last time I checked, she's only three subway stops away. It doesn't take that much goddamn effort to swipe a MetroCard a few times. Jesus.
And Luke- Luke. Luke who apparently has his whole life figured out, who apparently has all of life's answers stored right up there underneath that baseball hat. If he has life fucking figured out, why the hell couldn't he figure out that guilt tripping me into coming back to Stars Hollow wasn't the greatest fucking idea? Perfect, Luke. Perfect. Drag me back here to this place, this place where there's nothing. Nothing except for people who hate me- and trust me, the feeling is mutual.
I love her. I want to hate her. I want so fucking badly to look at her and think of nothing but a past that was once ok, once normal. Normal. This is definitely not fucking normal. It's not even because of her. I used to think it was because of her- I thought that if I could just touch her, keep her, that everything would be fine, normal. If there's one thing I've learned tonight, it's that you can't depend on someone. Just when you think you can, something happens and everything shifts. Everything is always fucking shifting and it's enough to make a person go insane.
Nearly out of gas. Hard to get away when you don't have the means.
I park in a gas station, and fill up the car with as much as I can on the few dollar bills I can afford to lose. Walking inside to pay, I pick up a magazine and soda, trying to figure out if I have work or not tomorrow. Forgot how many days I asked off for.
The cashier's busy talking on her cell phone as I wait to be rung out. Fucking great.
"Uh huh... yeah... I know, baby, I want to too," she says in a breathy tone. I didn't ask to witness phone sex when I came in here, and I slam the magazine loudly on the counter. She looks up at me, startled, and I smile sarcastically in return.
"Jesus, way to be patient," she hisses at me as she turns off her phone. "I was only gonna be a minute."
"Your customer skills are really up there with the best of them," I say in a monotone voice. I'm quiet as she (as slowly as she fucking possibly can) checks the items out. "Can I borrow your phone?" I ask. She raises an eyebrow simply, dropping the soda and the magazine in a plastic bag.
"After the way you just talked to me?"
I can't think of anything else better to say. "Yeah." She sighs and hands it over.
"You steal it and I will fucking murder you," she warns and I roll my eyes, but walk to the other end of the store.
"And don't use all my minutes!" I roll my eyes, and turn around to stare at her.
"The more you keep yelling at me, the longer I'm gonna be using your phone." She shuts up and I go back to dialing the numbers.
It rings for a few seconds, and I lean against the wall.
"Hello?"
I didn't actually expect her to pick up the phone.
"Hi," I say after a minute. I can hear her sigh wearily in the background.
"Jess-."
"No," I break in. "No- just listen to me. Just listen to me for one second. Don't hang up, don't say anything, just stop. I just wanted to tell you something, all right?" I can hear her beginning to talk, but I speak more loudly. I don't want to hear her right now. "I'm not fucking crazy. I know you- you're trying to make fucking excuses in your head right now for the way I acted. Don't. I don't need you to say to yourself, 'Jess is crazy, Jess is fucking nuts', I don't need you talking to Lorelai to make you feel better about yourself."
"I'm not going to-."
"Yes, you are," I say, and for some reason I want to laugh. "Stop lying. You're going to call Lorelai, cry your fucking eyes out for maybe all of two minutes, then start laughing. You'll laugh about what I said to you to make yourself think that it didn't mean anything." I must've struck a nerve or something, because she tries to edge into the conversation again.
"Jess, what is wrong with you? First you tell me you love me, then you want me to run away with you, and now you're telling me how I'm going to act in the future? Are you drunk or something?"
"No, I just." I stop and then try again. "I love you. And I meant it."
"You don't even know what love is," she retorts angrily, and I can tell she's crying. "Love is not- it's not running away from your problems or ignoring them. It's being there, unconditionally, no matter what."
"I was always there."
"You ran away."
"I had to," I say. "Fuck. There was nothing left for me."
"I was there. I was always there."
"No you weren't. Half the time you were with Dean."
"So it still goes back to him?"
"It always goes back to him," I say loudly. "Jesus fucking Christ, who was at your dorm room tonight? Huh? Isn't he married?" She's silent.
"Did you just call to yell at me?" she asks bitingly. "To just call and lay out all of my flaws, shove them in my face? If you want to know the truth, Jess, I was crying. I am crying. I called Luke ten minutes ago and I got your address. Funny, huh? Apartment number 44. I was going to-." She breaks off. "I'm sorry you love me. Or hate me. Or whichever one you're feeling. I'm just... I'm sorry." She hangs up and I can barely fucking breathe.
Why.
Luke calls some time later. Apparently she slept with Dean. It doesn't hurt like it's supposed to. If someone ruins things for you, it hurts. If you ruin things for yourself, you have to get over it. Wasn't meant to be. Some things aren't meant to be.