Title: Somewhere Only We Know
Rating: Teen
Summary: Completely AU. Luke and Lorelai meet when they're teenagers, and their intense friendship revolves around the secret garden. Things grow complicated when she meets Christopher, and the story follows them into their early twenties.
Chapter Title: I Walked Across An Empty Land
AN: Hey, so this is my new story! It sounds very strange, I know, but I couldn't really describe this "secret garden" in the summary. It'll be good, I promise, just give it a shot! Totally AU though, there most likely will be no Rory (or at least as we know her), so its' really just the characters and their personalities that I'm basing this on. I hope you enjoy it, and review!
Lorelai tapped her pen against the desk at a steady rhythm, watching the clock. Ten more minutes of this bone-numbingly boring lecture, to be followed by an hour of bone-numbingly boring chit chat by her so-called friends, followed by three more hours of – well, bone-numbingly boring lectures. And then she would go home, and spend two hours doing bone-numbingly boring homework, and sit through a six course meal of bone-numbingly boring conversation, and then she would watch some bimbo's TV show, and then she would go to sleep.
A thrilling life, this girl had.
Finally, finally, the bell rang. However dull her life was, history class was definitely the lowlight of it. She caught up with Aimi Stockman at the door, the blonde-haired blue-eyed beauty who Lorelai called her best friend. In fact, most girls in the ninth grade would have died to get to sit with Aimi Stockman at lunch, and to hang out at Aimi Stockman's house on the weekends. But really, Aimi Stockman was the dullest girl Lorelai had ever met. Her interests consisted of boys, makeup, clothes, and boys. Not that Lorelai had no interest in these things, but she could see past the mindlessness and go a little deeper. And besides, she knew that the only reason Aimi paid any attention to her at all was because Lorelai was the second-prettiest girl in the grade, or so said the boys. To a viewer, Aimi and Lorelai seemed like a perfect match as best friends: they were both pretty, they both liked boys, they both liked shopping, they both liked parties…but the real difference lay in the fact that Lorelai liked to think. And apparently, Aimi did not.
"Hey, Lorelai," Aimi said cheerfully, linking an arm through hers.
"Hi, Aimi," she said, feeling the girl's long blonde hair brush against her shoulder and pushing her own curly brown hair out of her face. "God, Dr. Simon is a drone, isn't he? I wish I had Mrs. Vaughan again. She was weird, but at least amusing. This semester is turning out way sucko."
"What are you talking about?" Aimi asked, brushing her wisp of bangs across her forehead. "You aced the test last week." Lorelai shrugged. If by a B+ you meant aced. "And we have that party at Alex Jordan's house this Friday. And, I'm almost certain that Joe Cogan has a crush on you. Actually, I'm positive. Alyssa said that Mark told her that Joe told Alex he likes you."
"Oh, well, in that case," she said dryly as she tossed her books in her locker with one hand – a feat that required three years of practice to finally master. Aimi was a big fan of arm-linking.
"Hey, your tie is coming undone," Aimi commented, and reached over to tighten Lorelai's lopsided tie. Clearly Aimi couldn't see that not only was her tie lopsided, but her jacket was undone, her shirt untucked, and her hair flying around her face. The destroyed look happened to work for Lorelai, but Aimi was prim and proper, her uniform complete with a burgundy ribbon in her hair and kneesocks. It made Lorelai sick. She pushed Aimi's hand away, slightly tightening the tie and turning.
"Let's eat. I'm starving."
"You're always starving," the girl commented as they made their way down the hall. "Maybe that's why you went up from a two to a four last year."
"Yeah, or maybe it was the magical process called growing," she said bitterly, tugging at her shirt self-consciously. Of course, she knew she wasn't fat – she had always been blessed with a fast metabolism, and ate disgusting amounts, didn't exercise at all, and maintained an attractive weight. But in Aimi Stockman's book, anything above a size zero was deemed chubby, and a four – well, a four was just too much!
They waited on line in the cafeteria, the buzz of highschoolers around them. Most of the freshmen were completely intimidated by the upperclassmen, what with their blasé attitudes and their magically good grades, but Lorelai didn't care, and Aimi acted as if she didn't care, mimicking Lorelai's confidence. It was funny that Aimi was supposedly the queen bee of the grade, but she was the one constantly imitating Lorelai. Sighing, she loaded up her tray with macaroni and cheese, a chocolate bar and a soda, eyeing Aimi's pitiful salad with disdain.
"Please, I'm begging you, have some mac and cheese. Or at least a piece of chocolate. I swear, you're going to disappear!" Not that would be so bad, come to think of it. She shrugged and began to shovel mac and cheese into her mouth, oblivious to the gathering crowd at their table. Alex, Joe and Mark, the "terrible threesome," plopped their trays down, and were soon joined by Alyssa, Michelle, Janie, and the two boys who hung out on the fringes of their group: Chris and Jack. Lorelai grinned briefly at them before tearing open her chocolate bar.
"Did you forget to have breakfast?" Janie asked in her painfully slow voice, sitting down just as slow and cautiously putting a piece of lettuce to her lips, as if afraid it would explode.
"Ha, ha," she said, utterly sick of the long lasting joke amongst the group that Lorelai was underfed at home. If only! The extravagant breakfast buffets and six course dinners were enough to serve the entire high school, yet somehow it was only consumed by the Gilmores. She sat back, done with her food, and lifted her diet Coke to her mouth.
"Hey, so Lorelai," Joe began, glancing down shyly. She ignored Aimi's knowing look, accompanied by that of Alyssa, and looked right into the poor guy's brown eyes. He was cute…plain, but cute. And nice, although a bit dull. Now that she thought about it, she realized that she had absolutely no interest in Joe Cogan. Ah, well.
"What's up, Joe?" she asked, prompting him.
"You know the party this Friday?"
"Mmm hmmm."
"Well, do you want to go?" She shrugged.
"I guess. Why?"
"No, I mean…" he trailed off. She knew what he meant. That he had been asking if she wanted to go with him. But she didn't, and she didn't want to let him down, either. After a couple seconds of awkward silence, Michelle said,
"Hey, did you guys hear? Sam and Whitney broke up. Again! Can you believe that? The seniors at this school are insane!" And the table broke into frenzied conversation about who was hooking up with who, who liked who, and who were on the rocks. With a load groan, she shoved her chair back from the table and stood.
"Whoa, Lor. Where you going?" Chris asked.
"I, um…have to meet with my math teacher. I'll see you guys later." She dropped her tray on the conveyer belt and walked down the now empty hallway, grabbing her bag and breaking into a jog as she left the school. A quiet road encircled the building. A lake was to the left, and the center of town to the right. She slowed to a walk, turning to the left and pulling out her portable music player, a Christmas present from Michelle last year. A popular rock song began playing, and she kept walking, listening more to the music than she was to where she was going. Do it light , taking me through the night/Shadow dancing , baby you do it right/Give me more, drag me across the floor/Shadow dancing , all this and nothing more. As she walked, she shed her jacket, putting it in her book bag, and kicked off her shoes, walking barefoot in the grass. She had skipped school before, usually to hang out with a boy or just when she couldn't take it anymore. Today was one of those days. It was so…mundane. Days full of meaningless banter from people she couldn't care less about, followed by afternoons of dull, dull, dull work. It was a poor-little-rich-girl act, but she hated it. She hated this, where she was constantly looking forward to something that she didn't even care about in the first place. She hated it. She had been happier last year, when Jocelyn had still been at their school. She had made up a trio with Aimi and Lorelai, but Lorelai and Jocelyn were always better friends. She was a light brunette, with laughing eyes and soft curves that embodied her entire personality. She had been Lorelai's best friend, but now she went to the public high school, while Emily and Richard had sent Lorelai to the prep school that supposedly had the best teachers in the tri state area. If those were the best teachers, she shuddered to think what school was like at Hartford High.
She didn't know how long she walked, or where, but finally she threw down her bag and sat down in the grass next to it, closing her eyes and leaning her head back to bask in the October sun. Now this made her happy – being alone, left to her thoughts. She could just…relax. And still get home in time for dinner.
She must have dozed off, because Lorelai became aware that the music had stopped. She sat up and blinked. She put her music player in her bag and checked her watch: it was three. She had been there for two hours. Where, exactly, though? She stood up, her feet squishing the grass, and looked around. It was a clearing of some sort in the woods that surrounded the lake, she figured. There was a grassy expanse maybe 20 square feet, dotted with wild flowers and a few pine trees. A large boulder stood to one side, and a tall, strong tree of some sort to the other. She looked behind her and saw a path leading from the main road, and guessed that she had veered off onto it. She didn't quite know how to get back, but she was pleased with her new discovery, and decided to let loose the little girl inside of her and enjoy it. She darted across the grass to the boulder and clambered up it, getting up to the top and standing a good twenty feet above everything else. "I'm Queen of the world!" she shouted at the top of her lungs, the word "world" echoing around her. She then ran to the tree and placed one foot on the bottom branch, pulling herself up to stand on the limb. She easily scaled the tree, getting to the topmost sturdy branch and balancing precariously on the thin yet strong arm of the tree. She cautiously sat, leaning her back against the trunk and letting one leg fall on either side of her new seat, looking down at the clearing, which looked tiny from her position way up high. She let her head rest against the trunk as well, taking a deep breath of the pine scented air and smiling.
"Hey!" She jumped, rolling off the branch. Her nerves lurched and she grabbed wildly, latching onto a branch and hanging, struggling to pull herself back up. "Just lower yourself down!" a voice called – a male voice, she vaguely noted – and she looked down below her.
"It's so far!"
"It's just a foot or so. You can do it." How did this stranger know what she could or could not do? She was going to die! With a deep breath, Lorelai unclenched her arms and unbent her elbows, lowering herself slowly until the tips of her toes rested on the branch. "Just steady yourself against the trunk and get down here before you kill yourself," the boy said, and she did so, slowly climbing down until she reached the soft bed of grass once again. "Jeez," he said. "You scared me."
"I scared you?" she sputtered incredulously. "You – you – you - " Finally, she gave up, and sighed.
"I thought I was the only one who knew about this place," he said, gesturing around him.
"It's kind of public property."
"Yeah, well…anyway. Who are you?"
"Lorelai Gilmore. Who are you?"
"Luke Danes." She shrugged.
"Nice to meet you. So do you…come here often?" she asked a little self-mockingly.
"Actually, yeah. I guess now we'll have to share it."
"Fine." For some reason, she was actually pissed off at him. Or, she was just in a pissed off mood and taking it out on him. After all, he seemed fairly nice, albeit sort of antisocial. He looked a little older than her, maybe sixteen or so. And he was cute, if you liked flannel and baseball caps. It so happened that Lorelai didn't mind them. "Well, I'll go, then. Don't want to intrude on your…space."
"No, it's okay, you can stay. I have food," he offered. She wrinkled her nose.
"What kind of food?"
"Uh…" he rummaged in a backpack and returned with a plastic bag containing…something.
"What is that?" she asked, staring at the glob-like mass of what was supposed to be food.
"Tofu," he said defensively. "Fine. I'll eat it myself, then."
"Fine." She walked to her bag and slipped on her shoes, bringing her bag to the boulder and sitting down.
"What are you doing?"
"Sharing. You get that side, I get the boulder and the grass around it."
"Where am I supposed to sit?"
"On your ass." With that, she returned her headphones to her ears and proceeded to blast Sting. She kept an eye on Luke, though. He opened his disgusting bag of…tofu…and picked at it, then pulled out a deck of baseball cards and began to sort them. Baseball cards? Seriously? What is he, eight? "Aw. Did your little brother's bag get switched with yours?" He looked up irritably.
"If you must know, I collect rare cards."
"Oh. How, uh, nice." She switched the song. "So…baseball, huh. That's your thing?"
"Not my thing. One of my things."
"So what are your other things?" She pulled the headphones down to rest around her neck, so she could still hear the soft beats of Every Breath You Take. She drew her legs up to her, the soft pleats of her burgundy skirt falling to cover her shorts.
"I don't know," he said uneasily, crossing his jeaned legs and tugging on the sleeves of his blue flannel shirt. "I don't really keep a list."
"Fine. I'll go. I'm fourteen. I'm in ninth grade. I'm friends with Aimi Stockman, which probably means nothing to you, and it means nothing to me, but to the entire preppy student body, it means a whole lot. Apparently. I like…General Hospital and every movie invented before 1960, and I'm amazing at Monopoly but I always lose at Sorry. My parents are the most aggravating people I have ever met, and yesterday the maid misplaced my Billy Joel CD and I'm boycotting. Wow. That made me sound really, really spoiled. I'm not. Spoiled, I mean. I hate, hate, hate the whole New-England elite world. I know, poor little rich girl, but I hate it. You try it, you'll see!" She blinked. "Whoops. Sorry. That was a little much." He nodded. "Anyway. You go."
"Okay. I'm sixteen, junior. I don't like anyone in my grade, they're idiots." She nodded in agreement. "I like Star Trek – I'm not a Trekkie, though – and I work at my dad's pharmacy after school three times a week, and I hate it, but I can't bring myself to tell him that. I live about halfway to Stars Hollow – do you know it? I go to the high school there, but I play baseball near here a lot after school, so I come here a lot when stuff gets…overwhelming, I guess. My mom's dead. And I would totally kick your sorry ass at Monopoly." She grinned, hugging her knees.
"So…Stars Hollow, huh? That's the tiny town. Right?"
"If you must call it that," he said. "The people there are insane. Taylor – the mayor, or something, is probably the craziest man I've ever met. Patty, the dance instructor, keeps commenting on my butt and how good it would look in tights. Creepy, right? And my dad is just getting to be too much – I don't want to be a pharmacist. I don't want to babysit my stupid 13 year old sister to make sure she doesn't go off and get high. I – argh!" He stated the word – argh – which made her giggle.
"Seems like we're in the same boat," she said. "I hate my privileged life, and you hate your seemingly perfect one. Not that I'm saying it isn't – my life seems perfect. For chrissakes, I'm Aimi Stockman's best friend!"
"Who the hell is Aimi Stockman?"
"That girl. The blonde, pretty, shallow one. You know the type."
"I sure do." She shrugged sheepishly.
"Anyway…Luke, was it?" He nodded. "I kinda think I'll be coming back here. If that's okay, I mean. It's nice, and it helps to…sort your thoughts. You know?"
"Do I ever. Come back whenever you want. You…you seem all right." And even though she barely knew the guy, she was fairly sure that "you seem all right" was a pretty high compliment.