Yes, finally something new from me... sort of a companion piece to "China Doll," in that it's a reflection on Rory from one of the men she's touched in her life. Originally I had planned on one for each boy in her life, but we shall see where my muse (and life) takes me.

Disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore Girls or its characters. Darn.

Rated T for language, if easily offended by profanity, it'd probably be best not to read it. Tristan's got a bit of a potty mouth.

This is a one-shot for now, I probably won't continue it unless I randomly feel the need to write.

"God damn it!" A heavy box labeled books in big bold letters crashed to the floor in the sparse apartment. The bottom fell out and the floor was littered with various-sized books, papers, and magazines.

"I knew those damn packing people should have double-taped some of these," he muttered angrily under his breath as he began to clean up the mess. A large navy book with silver lettering peeked out at him, and he picked it up and began to thumb through it.

"I thought I lost this yearbook," he mused, "I guess something good has come out of this move after all."

His gaze stopped on a page that featured a younger version of himself with a pretty brown-haired girl. Rory Gilmore. Memories flooded back, things he hadn't thought of in years.

"I'd kiss you goodbye, but your boyfriend's watching." Half of him shuddered with disgust at how he'd treated her, and half of him wished he had just done it, boyfriend or not. Hell, he was being shipped off to military school, when exactly was he going to run into that stock boy again?

The first day he'd met her… he'd labeled her "Mary," the image of a virginal schoolgirl. He'd harbored a few fantasies that featured her otherwise, but really that was what had drawn her to him. She didn't take his bullshit. She never gave in. He really had admired her for that, as much as he hated being shut down again and again.

"… I hate him!" Words said in the heat of the moment, surely not truly meant by someone as truly kind as Rory Gilmore. They hurt all the same. He wouldn't blame his little downward spiral on her; that wouldn't be fair, he had so many more issues than that. She didn't help it any, however. Somehow she had more of an effect on him than he knew; what she thought mattered to him for some reason.

He supposed that was how she got him on that wretched date with Paris. "… it was a nice kiss, not at all crying material…" and she had him wrapped around her pretty little finger, knowing all the while that it was really doomed. Paris. Seriously. She had been a good friend to him when they were younger, but he simply wasn't interested. Things were awkward enough with the two of them with her crush on him, and how he'd treated her.

He'd been an asshole in his younger years. He still was at times, but he'd like to think he'd matured a bit. He'd like to see her again, see how the world had treated her. He heard snippets at parties from mutual friend-of-friends, but nothing reliable or concrete. Something about her dating a rich hot-shot, dropping out of whatever Ivy League school she attended. He couldn't really believe that, or if it was true, she would get it all sorted out eventually. Then again, he himself had changed, perhaps she had as well. He'd like to think not, but shit happens.

He flipped through the pages of the yearbook mindlessly. "Have a great summer, see you next year!" from some girl whose name he couldn't quite make out. At least it appeared to be a girl's handwriting. "Hope I see lots of you this summer! Xoxoxo Melissa" There were more along these lines, many a phone number. "Keep it real. See you over the summer, hope it's a great one," from Dave. Dave… nope, no idea who that was. Damn, it was sad, this all seemed like so very long ago.

Finally, on one of the last pages, under the directory, in neat handwriting, read: "It's been nice getting to know you, Tristan. I hope your summer is great and you keep yourself out of trouble! –Rory." She had written him that before their argument over the PJ Harvey tickets. He closed the book. What was done was done. He was starting over, again. New apartment, new school, hopefully some new friends. Hopefully Yale treated him as well as UNC had.