Summary: It's when you least expect it that a lifeline is thrown to you. Which is why, if he's not careful, Tristan DuGrey is liable to screw up his last chance to really get to know Rory Gilmore.

Story: Give Up

Prologue: You have nothing over me

No matter how many times people tell you to keep trying, there are times when you should just give up. This was one of them. This was because Rory Gilmore was never going to get the upper hand against Tristan DuGrey in this argument. Especially considering that he was in his territory.

He frowned, his beautiful tanned skin forming lines on his forehead. He leaned against her locker door, ignoring the curious stares from various passer-by's. "How can you listen to that crap, Mary?"

Rory was in the process of returning her Advanced Biology books to their place in the locker, and taking out her Calculus ones when she heard the annoying voice of someone who was too cocky for their boots. She wrinkled her nose as if she smelt something nasty, and cocked her head to the side to face Tristan, simultaneously taking off the earphones, making them dangle around her neck like a discarded piece of clothing. She should have known that he was right behind her, because the hairs in the back of her neck had risen uncannily.

"This is not crap. PJ Harvey is one of the best artistes on record." She paused. "By the way, it's Rory, not Mary. I would have thought that it would be drummed into your obviously thick skull by now."

Tristan smiled. "Yeah… but what's the fun in calling you by your real name, when I can give you my own personal nickname for you. And back to the PJ Harvey thing, I prefer things that do not brainwash you into the whole burning-the-bra feminist. That would be a disappointment to all the females in this world."

"Go to hell."

Tristan laughed. "I'm sure I'll get there someday. Meanwhile, I have girls to do and expensive wines to taste."

Rory grimaced in his particular choice of distasteful words. "Why can't you go bother someone else?" 

"Because you're the only one here who turns me on."

"Are you sure? Because I thought the only ones that do that are the ones who wear skirts ending halfway up their asses, and a top that plunge down to their waists, exposing anything that could be exposed in the first place."

Tristan smirked in response. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were jealous."

"What makes you think that I'd be jealous of a regular hooker?"

"The way you act. We all know that beneath that demure façade is a tiger just waiting to get out." He grinned, his teeth sparkling white, reminding her of a predator. And she was his prey. He bent down really close, whispering out the next words. "And personally, I can't wait." His breath tickled her ear, making her forget for one second that she was in the middle of a crowded hallway in the middle of a school day. She felt seduced… and she did not like that feeling one bit.

"Can't you think of anything else but sex for one second?" she bit out, her tone of voice vicious and meant to hurt because in that particular timeframe, she really meant it.

And Tristan knew that she meant it. So he retaliated with an equally biting and cruel command. "How can I when you're always around, leading me on?"

He seethed inside when she didn't say anything. "You whore," he whispered, the words brushing over Rory and setting her on fire like nothing had before. Their last few minutes of talk had changed from banter to maliciousness. Rory couldn't take the verbal abuse anymore. She was already on the bursting point, and that last comment sparked off something in her she hadn't known she had.

So she swore. "FUCK OFF, TRISTAN!"    

Unfortunately, that was the wrong time and the wrong place to let go of her first angry strings of blasphemies. Standing right behind her was Headmaster Charleston. And he looked pretty angry too.

He glowered at Rory and Tristan both, and gestured them to follow him. Rory groaned in response and knocked her head against the closed door of her locker. She wished someone could just kill her and get it over with.

There was an almost comical silence as Rory and Tristan followed in the dreaded wake of Headmaster Charleston. The hushed silence of their fellow classmates made the situation even worse than it would have been if that moment had been private. Rory bemoaned her luck, wishing that she had never met Tristan in the first place.

Headmaster Charleston led them into his own private office, and sat down on his specially made classic leather chair. He stared at the both of them whilst they stood nervously near the office door. Actually, Rory wasn't sure if Tristan was nervous, but she sure had enough butterflies in her stomach for the both of them. Finally, Headmaster Charleston motioned for them to sit in the two chairs in front of his rather large, extremely tidy desk.

His moustache twitched minimally as he observed the nervous twitches of Rory Gilmore, and wondered if it was the first time that she got into trouble with someone of higher authority. He was pretty sure it was, and since that was the case he intended this incidence to be one that wasn't quite so easily forgotten.

"Blasphemies of any sort are not allowed in Chilton Prep, Ms. Gilmore. This is because this institution doesn't support that sort of behaviour. This institution is a symbol for excellent grades and …"

Tristan had zoned out on the first line of Headmaster Charleston's extensive speech on what makes Chilton Prep the hangout of geeks and rich asses alike. He found the situation ridiculously funny, but felt really bad that he had dragged Rory into the situation. She was going to hate him even more than she had before, which was never his intention. He just wanted to know that he could get to her, and make sure that she noticed him. Now, she was noticing him even more than he wanted her to (if that was even possible). She was giving him glares every few seconds, and if looks could kill… he's be incinerated in a few milliseconds flat.

Finally, Headmaster Charleston came to the end of his long and boring sermon. "…And I sentence the both of you to a month's worth of detention."

As soon as those words were uttered, pandemonium broke out in the rather roomy office of Headmaster Charleston.

"But I didn't do anything!" said Tristan.

Headmaster Charleston smiled, the white of his teeth gleaming like a predator that had caught its bait. "I'm sure you played a very large role in this fiasco, Mr. DuGrey."

Tristan frowned. All he could think about was 'What were his parents going to say?'

Rory's eyes widened, and before you can say "BOO", they filled up with reluctant tears that were threatening to spill at any second. And because Headmaster Charleston was feeling rather merciful at that particular moment, he dismissed the two of them.

"You may go now," he said, watching Rory worriedly. Girls in tears were something he could never deal with in the correct manner. Boys, however, were a completely different story as he watched Ms. Gilmore's male counterpart chew up his bottom lip. Boys you have to deal with a firm hand, or they'll be crawling all over you.

Tristan was also watching Rory rather anxiously. He knew that it was his entire fault, and because of that he felt like the lowest bastard alive on earth. He stood up slowly, following Rory as she went out the door. However, as soon as he closed the door to the Head's Office, she took off crying, leaving him standing in the hallway like a dejected date. And, if you consider the fact that he had brought it upon himself, he ran after her, doing the first morally correct thing he could remember.

To be continued… (Eventually)

Author's Notes: I was feeling restless, and the beginning of this story was just stuck in my head, repeating itself over and over again, thus driving me crazy. I just had to let it out. Now that I have, I don't know what to do with the rest of it, so suggestions are, as always, welcome.