"Are we there yet?" Shannon questioned for the hundredth time, cookie
crumbs spraying from her mouth.
"No, sunshine, not yet. We'll be there soon," Rory cooed, her finely manicured nails drumming on the vinyl steering wheel. Slowing the minivan to a stop in front of a red light, Rory turned around to see her best friend dabbing at Shannon's mouth with a washcloth, and making odd faces while doing so. "Yucky, Shannon! Remember Shan-Shan, food goes into your mouth, not on your face. Although uneven makeup is in, I don't think that three-year-olds should be going out looking like Madonna. In fact, I don't think anyone should be going out looking like Madonna. So the moral of the lesson is, put your food in your mouth. Otherwise you'll look like Madonna, and nobody wants that." A very confused three-year-old stared back at her with large, almond-coloured eyes.
"Lane, slow down. You're confusing me, and I am the master of confusion. That's a very bad sign. The only person who can confuse me is: me, my dearest mother, and that old, hairy bus driver who doesn't speak English and collects pink gum wrappers. Think about it. This deprived child sitting next to you only knows how to say, 'Are we there yet', 'mine', 'cookie', and 'Are we there yet'. It's quite simple actually. Three-year-olds are very easily confused. You have to speak in their language." With that, Rory released the clutch, and switching the van to neutral, turned to the wide- eyed toddler. With her expressive eyes bright and her lips curled down in what resembled a three-year-old pout, Rory flung her hands up in the air. "Cookie go in mouth. Bad Shan-Shan if cookie not go in mouth. All dirty. Rory not like dirty. So cookie go in mouth." Rory finished, bowing dramatically. Lane cocked an eyebrow in confusion, and then watched amazed, as Shannon carefully placed a cookie in Rory's upturned palm. 'Cookie go in mouth," Shannon carefully announced.
"Yay, Shannon!" Rory nodded enthusiastically, sticking her tongue out at Lane like a spoiled preschooler, and then turning back to the wheel. "It was the caveman talk that did it," Lane complained, picking bits of cookie from her sweater. "You were always a sore loser, Lane. Face it. I beat you at your own game. With your own cousin," Rory easily shot back, smoothing out her silky camel-coloured hair. But Rory's high spirits dampened suddenly, like a rained out picnic. "What's the matter, Wowry?" A concerned Shannon asked from the backseat, clutching at her cookie tin. Rory bit on her lower lip, and attempted to give a sheepish smile. "You don't know where the day care is, do you, Lane?" Rory asked, embarrassed. She couldn't bring herself to meet Lane's laughing, fudge brown eyes.
"Actually, no," Lane admitted through the tears of laughter. Seeing Rory's downcast face, Lane flicked her raven-coloured braid over her shoulder like a whip. "Although you could ask that guy by Luke's diner. I think he would know," Lane helpfully supplied, gesturing to a silhouetted figure swaggering over to the door of Luke's Diner. Taking a sip of lukewarm coffee, Rory rolled down her window, pulling the small cherry red minivan in front of the dimly lit café. "Hey!" Rory called softly, still swallowing the remains of her caffeinated drink. The dark-haired boy looked over his shoulder, and then trudged up to the van. He couldn't help but feel the tiny flutter in his chest when his saw the beautiful, blue-eyed angel sitting in the driver's seat. "Do you need directions, or something?" Jess asked, trying his best to act annoyed but failing miserably. "Actually, yeah..." Rory trailed off, a little bit embarrassed, and a little bit afraid of the teen, who looked her up and down and showed such an attitude of indifference that she might as well have been an annoying fly.
"Um, do you know the directions to the day care centre?" Rory asked, flustered, twirling a lock of glossy nutmeg brown hair around her index finger. "I have to drop off my best friend's cousin, so don't think I'm a slut or something, because I do not have any children..." Rory was cut off by Jess's lips on hers. His lips were soft and cool under hers, and she almost whimpered when Jess pulled away. Fingering Rory's heart-shaped face, Jess grinned at the startled expression on her face. "Just go down that street, past the first light, and then turn immediately to your left," he finally replied, dropping his hand from her face. With a smug smile on his face, he swaggered away, and the door to the diner clanged shut behind him.
"Who is he?" Rory breathed, her fingers touching her lips, where he had kissed her only moments before. Those eyes, a shade of rich brown, mixed with a hazy green made her heart melt into a puddle of goo. Taking a shaky breath, Rory slowly exhaled, and backed the minivan into reverse. "For the first time, Rory Gilmore at a loss for words," Lane spoke in a deep reporter's voice into her bottle of Sprite. "Who is this tall, dark stranger who kisses girls and then answers them? Could he be the president's son? No, he doesn't have bad hair. Oh no! Maybe the president's family has found a strange substance called a comb! Wow, viewers, this sure is breaking news. A president with good hair? Now, that would be something, alright," Lane eased back to her normal voice, only to be bombarded with Rory's empty coffee cup. "Really, Lane. Do you know him?" Rory asked, reapplying her lipstick in the rear view mirror. "Actually, I do. Adam was talking about him. He said that there was a new kid in town named Jess Mariano. He's Luke Danes' nephew. Apparently, he got kicked out of his town, and Luke was the only place to go to. The tall, dark, rebellious type."
"Jess, huh?" Rory loved the way it sounded on her lips. It sounded like syrup dripping from a honeycomb. "Jess. I could get used to that."
"No, sunshine, not yet. We'll be there soon," Rory cooed, her finely manicured nails drumming on the vinyl steering wheel. Slowing the minivan to a stop in front of a red light, Rory turned around to see her best friend dabbing at Shannon's mouth with a washcloth, and making odd faces while doing so. "Yucky, Shannon! Remember Shan-Shan, food goes into your mouth, not on your face. Although uneven makeup is in, I don't think that three-year-olds should be going out looking like Madonna. In fact, I don't think anyone should be going out looking like Madonna. So the moral of the lesson is, put your food in your mouth. Otherwise you'll look like Madonna, and nobody wants that." A very confused three-year-old stared back at her with large, almond-coloured eyes.
"Lane, slow down. You're confusing me, and I am the master of confusion. That's a very bad sign. The only person who can confuse me is: me, my dearest mother, and that old, hairy bus driver who doesn't speak English and collects pink gum wrappers. Think about it. This deprived child sitting next to you only knows how to say, 'Are we there yet', 'mine', 'cookie', and 'Are we there yet'. It's quite simple actually. Three-year-olds are very easily confused. You have to speak in their language." With that, Rory released the clutch, and switching the van to neutral, turned to the wide- eyed toddler. With her expressive eyes bright and her lips curled down in what resembled a three-year-old pout, Rory flung her hands up in the air. "Cookie go in mouth. Bad Shan-Shan if cookie not go in mouth. All dirty. Rory not like dirty. So cookie go in mouth." Rory finished, bowing dramatically. Lane cocked an eyebrow in confusion, and then watched amazed, as Shannon carefully placed a cookie in Rory's upturned palm. 'Cookie go in mouth," Shannon carefully announced.
"Yay, Shannon!" Rory nodded enthusiastically, sticking her tongue out at Lane like a spoiled preschooler, and then turning back to the wheel. "It was the caveman talk that did it," Lane complained, picking bits of cookie from her sweater. "You were always a sore loser, Lane. Face it. I beat you at your own game. With your own cousin," Rory easily shot back, smoothing out her silky camel-coloured hair. But Rory's high spirits dampened suddenly, like a rained out picnic. "What's the matter, Wowry?" A concerned Shannon asked from the backseat, clutching at her cookie tin. Rory bit on her lower lip, and attempted to give a sheepish smile. "You don't know where the day care is, do you, Lane?" Rory asked, embarrassed. She couldn't bring herself to meet Lane's laughing, fudge brown eyes.
"Actually, no," Lane admitted through the tears of laughter. Seeing Rory's downcast face, Lane flicked her raven-coloured braid over her shoulder like a whip. "Although you could ask that guy by Luke's diner. I think he would know," Lane helpfully supplied, gesturing to a silhouetted figure swaggering over to the door of Luke's Diner. Taking a sip of lukewarm coffee, Rory rolled down her window, pulling the small cherry red minivan in front of the dimly lit café. "Hey!" Rory called softly, still swallowing the remains of her caffeinated drink. The dark-haired boy looked over his shoulder, and then trudged up to the van. He couldn't help but feel the tiny flutter in his chest when his saw the beautiful, blue-eyed angel sitting in the driver's seat. "Do you need directions, or something?" Jess asked, trying his best to act annoyed but failing miserably. "Actually, yeah..." Rory trailed off, a little bit embarrassed, and a little bit afraid of the teen, who looked her up and down and showed such an attitude of indifference that she might as well have been an annoying fly.
"Um, do you know the directions to the day care centre?" Rory asked, flustered, twirling a lock of glossy nutmeg brown hair around her index finger. "I have to drop off my best friend's cousin, so don't think I'm a slut or something, because I do not have any children..." Rory was cut off by Jess's lips on hers. His lips were soft and cool under hers, and she almost whimpered when Jess pulled away. Fingering Rory's heart-shaped face, Jess grinned at the startled expression on her face. "Just go down that street, past the first light, and then turn immediately to your left," he finally replied, dropping his hand from her face. With a smug smile on his face, he swaggered away, and the door to the diner clanged shut behind him.
"Who is he?" Rory breathed, her fingers touching her lips, where he had kissed her only moments before. Those eyes, a shade of rich brown, mixed with a hazy green made her heart melt into a puddle of goo. Taking a shaky breath, Rory slowly exhaled, and backed the minivan into reverse. "For the first time, Rory Gilmore at a loss for words," Lane spoke in a deep reporter's voice into her bottle of Sprite. "Who is this tall, dark stranger who kisses girls and then answers them? Could he be the president's son? No, he doesn't have bad hair. Oh no! Maybe the president's family has found a strange substance called a comb! Wow, viewers, this sure is breaking news. A president with good hair? Now, that would be something, alright," Lane eased back to her normal voice, only to be bombarded with Rory's empty coffee cup. "Really, Lane. Do you know him?" Rory asked, reapplying her lipstick in the rear view mirror. "Actually, I do. Adam was talking about him. He said that there was a new kid in town named Jess Mariano. He's Luke Danes' nephew. Apparently, he got kicked out of his town, and Luke was the only place to go to. The tall, dark, rebellious type."
"Jess, huh?" Rory loved the way it sounded on her lips. It sounded like syrup dripping from a honeycomb. "Jess. I could get used to that."