:: Okay, so maybe no one cares about Marty, but he interests me. I would appreciate any feedback. It is a one-shot…because I don't have the patience to write a long story. Gosh, I'm so random. Enjoy::

:: I don't own Gilmore Girls or the characters. I'm in the process of owning Jess…just you wait and see… (joking lol). Title is a song by The Kinison.::

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"Her face was sad and lovely with bright things in it, bright eyes and a bright passionate mouth---but there was an excitement in her voice that men who had cared for her found difficult to forget: a singing compulsion, a whispered "Listen," a promise that she had done gay, exciting things just a short while since and that there were gay, exciting things hovering in the next hour."

The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald

Marty likes Rory. Rory likes Logan. Logan likes Rory. Marty is pretty sure that leaves him somewhere on the outside. It's all becoming increasingly obvious.

Marty remembers the exact moment when he knew he loved Rory. She asked him if he had read any good books lately, and she wasn't just using it as a conversation filler.

He knew he had to forget about Rory, and quick, because he saw the way she looked at Logan, and how it was the complete opposite of the way she looked at him. So he asked Tracy from his Psychology class out on a date. She wasn't as pretty as Rory, or as smart as Rory. Tracy wasn't as witty and she didn't ramble. She wasn't Rory. Marty began to think that maybe that was a good thing.

Tracy had frizzy blonde hair that tumbled over her shoulders and hit the small of her back. Her skin was tan and her eyes were brown. She carried a small pink purse with her everywhere. Tracy liked Marty and laughed at his jokes that weren't really jokes.

Rory stopped calling and Marty stopped dropping by her dorm on his way to Modern Civilizations. Tracy pretty much consumed his free time and he wasn't even sure he wanted to talk to Rory.

Marty flinched noticeably when Paris mentioned that Rory and Logan were seeing each other. Paris gave him what looked like a sympathetic look and didn't talk about it again.

Yale was so pretty in December. The snow was crunchy and Marty liked the way he could trace all the footprints of the people walking in front of him. The sun glared and the snow began to melt. It looked like summer and felt like winter and his hands were a little numb. Marty stared at Rory's building for an hour or two. He went back to his dorm.

It was 3 in the morning and Marty was trying to figure out his Modern Civ. homework. His eyes were half closed and he needed coffee. Coffee. Coffee good. He's delirious. He thinks he should have been paying attention to the lecture instead of trying not to stare at the girl with the ivory skin and russet hair.

Marty is with Tracy on Friday nights in his room because his roommate Matt is always out. There's a knock at the door and he leaves Tracy sitting on the edge of his bed. It's Rory and he's surprised. She's biting her lip and her eyes are blue. Blue like the cold, blue like the ocean. Wild and constant. Calm and inviting. She beckons him to follow her. The door to his bedroom is closed but Marty can see Tracy smoothing her pleated skirt with one hand and fixing her lipstick with the other. He grabs a coat and slips out the door.

He's always been a sucker for a pretty face.