Disclaimer: I do not own the characters created by Amy Sherman Palladino
Scenario: What if Tristan was forced to write a letter to Rory. What would she do?
Dear Rory,
If I were still allowed to gamble, I would wager you thought you had heard the last from me. I most impose on your time one last time. It is well known that as part the terms of the court, in lou of probation or jail time I was sent to military school. What is less known is that I have to attend so many hours of therapy. Some old woman in black robes has decided that I need to get in touch with my emotions to figure out why ' a young man with the world at his feet and all the opportunities money and social class can provide would throw it away for a thrill of adrenaline rush.'
My therapist comes with the best credentials money can buy. However, I doubt my parents have ever met the man. He is short, fat, with a comb over and aversion to deodorant. I provided the description because I hope you would find it amusing and because he is reading this letter.
He has suggested I work on righting the wrongs, like I am in a twelve-step program and he is my AA sponsor. Since I can't make it to Hartford and talk to you in person this is the only means at my disposal to reach you. Of all of our classmates, you were the only person I could bring myself to write to.
I know, that although I have never earned it, you would keep my confidence. You were always like that; everybody could tell from the first moment they saw you at Chilton that you were such an innocent nice girl. More loyal than any other girl I had met at that place.
I know you hate me and I am sorry. I know I did everything to earn your hate and what makes me angry with myself is that, that is the opposite of what I was going for. It was too late for me to realize you would have been a good friend. I am sorry for antagonizing you, refusing you to call you by your name, and for ruining our scene of Romeo and Juliet. I have excellent timing for ruining things.
I would not have written this stupid letter if my therapist hadn't made me, but the sentiment is true. You have my permission to hate me. I deserved it. I just have to ask, please don't tell anybody I have a therapist. I know about sixty percent of our classmates have one, but it would a punch in the gut if the God of Chilton had to go to one. Good luck with school.
Here's looking at you kid,
Tristan Dugrey.
Tristan finished the letter begrudgingly. He didn't do feelings. He didn't want to talk about them and sure, as shit didn't want to write about them. This was one more way to be embarrassed in front of the girl. But lets face it, after the past year and a half, there didn't seem to be any other way of acting around her. He gave a quick prayer that her character was as he thought, that she would keep his confidence. Hartford had a long memory and a Dugrey's humiliation would cast a long shadow. Long after he returned from Military school. He signed the letter and handed it to his therapist. It was out of his hands now.