A/N: So, I've had the idea for this story in my head for a long time now and I have never gotten around to writing it down. I hope it is good and at least one person likes it and wants to read more, because I'm really looking forward to writing this. I haven't decided if I'm going to do it in POV or 3rd person.

Disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore Girls or the characters. If I did though, there would definitely have been a different ending.

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Rory POV

The first day of school was always my favorite day of the year. New classes, new people, new paper, new pens, new books. Everything was new and fresh and exciting. Despite my passion for the first day back from summer vacation, over my twelve years of school, first days had become rather monotonous and redundant. The same old lectures on rules and expectations. Saying things like. "This will be the hardest class you have ever taken" and let me tell you, the teachers at Chilton do not make empty threats. All previous expectations aside, I was optimistic for the first day of my senior year at Chilton Prep in Hartford, Connecticut.

I could never sleep the night before, so when my exuberant mother, Lorelai, bounded into my room at 6:30 on the first day of school, I was already up and dressed, waiting expectantly for the day to finally begin. We made our usual stop at Luke's for coffee and breakfast. Luke made his usual cynical remarks, and I got on my usual bus that I took to Hartford everyday.

I lived in Stars Hollow with my mother, about 20 miles from Hartford. Stars Hollow was a quirky little town with a variety of interesting characters. I had started going to Chilton during my sophomore year and I love it there. It is challenging and I have always loved a challenge.

Although everything was the same as it was last year, something about Chilton felt different from the first step I took onto campus. I chopped it up to being a senior, top of the food chain so to speak. Although, I didn't buy into all that seniority nonsense like some people do.

I looked at my schedule and went to my locker to put all my freshly bought supplies in their proper places. After organizing my locker, I proceeded to my first period class, English. English was by far my favorite subject. I want to be an over-seas correspondent when I graduate so I suppose that would make sense. I love writing and English is my favorite place to do it. There is something to be said about writing an essay about the deep thoughts being flushed out in a novel by Jane Austen or a poem by John Keats as opposed to writing an essay detailing the causes and effects of the Crimean War in history. Writing in English required deep thinking, emotion, and an actual knowledge of the topic at hand. Almost anyone can write a decent essay on something in history. All that is needed is the ability to regurgitate in different words the facts and figures splayed out in a text book.

I glanced down at my schedule again and saw that I didn't have Mr. Medina for English like I assumed I would. I was kind of bummed. I had heard that Mr. Medina was a fantastic teacher (A/N he and Lorelai never dated and have never met, I'm simply using his name.) Instead, my teacher was Mr. Huntz… his name must be too long for the small space they had allotted for each teacher's name.

Something about his name struck me. I'm not quite sure what, but I smiled at the sight of those five letters. Huh, I thought to myself, that's odd, for some reason I feel like I have known this guy forever. I walked into English class and sat down somewhere in the middle. I'm not one of those students who fight for the front seat of the classroom so they can be the teacher's favorite, but I'm not one of those students who sits in the back hoping to avoid being called on. Somewhere around third grade I decided that the middle was safe ground.

Slowly but surely, people began to file into the room and claim their territory. I've found that you can tell a lot about a person by where they sit in the classroom one the first day of school. Paris Geller, always trying to out shine everyone else, sat front and center in front of Mr. Huntz's desk. On the opposite end of the spectrum, Tristan DuGray sat in the back, far right corner, the farthest seat from the teacher's desk and closet to the door in the back of the room.

The bell rang and everyone took their seats. There was already gossip about this new teacher. Some girls in the back were squealing about something, apparently the new English teacher was a "hottie." I giggled silently at the immaturity of my classmates, but all the while I was secretly anticipating his entrance.

Then, all the whispers ceased and the object of everyone's conversations entered through the mahogany door. At that moment if someone where to take a picture of the faces of the girls in class, they would have all had goofy smiles on them. I would have made a mental note to remember them clearly to describe to my mother later, but I was too busy looking at my desk embarrassed. I don't know why, but the moment he walked in I felt my cheeks inflame and palms get all sweaty. Needless to say, he was gorgeous.

A/N: I hope you liked it. I know there is like no dialogue in this chapter, but it was fun writing Rory's thoughts. So there is this little button at the bottom of the page. I know you want to push it and leave a review. I know you do, so just give in.

P.S. this is what part of the alphabet would look like if Q and R were eliminated.

REVIEW please!!