I don't own any of these characters, sadly they all belong to the WB. And
I do not own the song, it belongs to Avril Lavigne.
Come Take Me Home
Where was she?
She should be here by now. Didn't she remember that they were presenting their project today? For God's sake, it was 50% of their grade.
You'd think she'd remember.
"Where is she!" Paris came storming down the hall.
He raised his eyebrows, "Funny, I was just asking myself the same thing."
Paris glared at him, slicing him with daggers. "That's almost surprising. You're not one to care about grades."
"Well, I do now that if I fail anything I'm on my way back to military school." Tristan sent her a look almost as lethal as her own. "I need this project."
Paris fisted her hands and began pacing the hallway, "Okay, I've called home: no answer. I've called the ex: he doesn't know."
"Wait, how'd you get his phone number?" Tristan interrupted her.
Paris didn't answer him but went on talking. "I've tried her mother's cell: it's out of order.Where could she be??!!" Paris almost pulled her hair out of her head. "Ahhh."
"Woah, Paris. Calm down." Tristan ran his hands through his small tuft of blonde hair. "There's probably a reasonable explanation."
"Have you found her yet?" A girl named Rachel with long red hair and bright cat like green eyes sauntered down the hall.
"No!" Paris said frustrated. "I'm going to talk to Ms. White.maybe she'll give us an extension." Paris fumed at the idea. "I am sooo going to kill her."
Tristan and Rachel watched as Paris steamed down the hallway, "What's up her ass?" Rachel snorted.
"Harvard." Tristan replied.
Rachel leaned against a locker and looked Tristan over. "So how was boot camp? I noticed the increase in muscular power." She gave his right biceps a light, flirtatious squeeze.
"You would." Tristan muttered under his breath.
"What was that?" Rachel asked batting her eye lashes and sweeping her long red hair over her shoulder.
"Nothing." Tristan began walking down the hallway, "Tell Paris I'm in the library okay? So she doesn't have another spazz attack."
Tristan made his way to the library leaving behind an open mouthed Rachel. She pissed him off so much, they all did. His first day back they all swarmed him, asking him dumb ass questions. Wouldn't give him any space. An angry shudder sliced through him, military camp was almost turning out to be the better alternative.
He found a small cubby hole in the back of the library and pulled out a book, but never really read.
Things at home weren't much better. Turns out his father had been sleeping with numerous woman for the past five years, none of them his mother. Tristan grimaced when he pictured his mother's face and posture when he had returned home. She had bags under her eyes and was stooped over like an old woman. He hated to see her like that, completely devastated.
His mother was a good person, his father was not. How they ended up together he'd never know. He loved his mother more then anything, he hated his father. Thankfully his mother gained full custody of him; not that his father wanted him anyway. They were in the process of moving out.
Soon he thought, soon I won't have to be in that cold, dry house for another day.
Tristan glanced at his watch, fifteen minutes until his free period ended. This made his thoughts turn to Rory Gilmore. Where could she be?
Rory hadn't been at all sick yesterday, he would have noticed. She would never play hooky on a day when she was presenting a grade altering project. Hell, she would never play hooky at all. So, where was she?
They had become somewhat friends this year. He didn't tease her any longer, he had no desire to. He still had an immense crush on her but he didn't want to be in a relationship right now. That's a first.
He smiled as he thought of all the times they had worked on their project together. One time they had went to Rory's house where her mother had attempted to sabotage their studying with no success. He looked forward to being better friends with her in the future.
Once more he glanced at his watch to see that there was only five minutes before the bell rang. He stood up and waked out of the library in search of Paris. Maybe she had gotten that extension.
Tristan strode down the hallway, his eyes scanning for Paris.
"Tristan." A weak voice called to him from behind.
Is that Paris? It can't be it sounds nothing like her.but it was. He turned around to see Paris slowly walking towards him. "Paris, did we get the extension?"
"No.no we didn't." Her voice broke off.
When Tristan was close enough to her, he saw that she looked lost and somewhat distraught. "Paris!" He said, surprised. "What's wrong?" When has Paris Gellar ever looked lost or distraught?
She looked up at him, almost confused. "Rory.she.her." Paris struggled with her words.
Tristan grabbed a hold of Paris's shoulders and lightly shook, "What is it? Did something happen to Rory?"
"Yes.I mean well, no." Distracted, she looked around.
"Paris, please tell me what's wrong." Tristan said desperate.
"Rory's mom, she-she was in an accident." Paris lowered her head.
Tristan's arms tightened on her shoulders. "What happened." He whispered it.
Paris looked up, her eyes bright with tears. " Her car ran off the road.Oh, Tristan." Paris drew in short breaths. "She's dead.
"Shit.oh, shit." Tristan's arms dropped to his sides, shocked.
"That's why she wasn't here." Paris shook her head. "Oh God, she was the most open person I think I've ever met."
Tristan was still cursing, his hands running through his hair. "No, way. Oh, shit.no way."
Paris began sobbing, "Oh, God. I can't believe this happened." She shook her head hard and tried to force the tears back to no avail. "I don't even know why I'm crying so hard.I barely even knew her."
Tristan stopped cursing and surprised them both by bringing Paris into his embrace.
More tears came, "It's just that she's like know one I've ever met."
Tristan ran his hands through her hair trying to give comfort. He squeezed his own eyes shut willing the tears not to come.
"I remember when I first met her, I thought.I thought, I wish my mom was like that."
Come Take Me Home
Where was she?
She should be here by now. Didn't she remember that they were presenting their project today? For God's sake, it was 50% of their grade.
You'd think she'd remember.
"Where is she!" Paris came storming down the hall.
He raised his eyebrows, "Funny, I was just asking myself the same thing."
Paris glared at him, slicing him with daggers. "That's almost surprising. You're not one to care about grades."
"Well, I do now that if I fail anything I'm on my way back to military school." Tristan sent her a look almost as lethal as her own. "I need this project."
Paris fisted her hands and began pacing the hallway, "Okay, I've called home: no answer. I've called the ex: he doesn't know."
"Wait, how'd you get his phone number?" Tristan interrupted her.
Paris didn't answer him but went on talking. "I've tried her mother's cell: it's out of order.Where could she be??!!" Paris almost pulled her hair out of her head. "Ahhh."
"Woah, Paris. Calm down." Tristan ran his hands through his small tuft of blonde hair. "There's probably a reasonable explanation."
"Have you found her yet?" A girl named Rachel with long red hair and bright cat like green eyes sauntered down the hall.
"No!" Paris said frustrated. "I'm going to talk to Ms. White.maybe she'll give us an extension." Paris fumed at the idea. "I am sooo going to kill her."
Tristan and Rachel watched as Paris steamed down the hallway, "What's up her ass?" Rachel snorted.
"Harvard." Tristan replied.
Rachel leaned against a locker and looked Tristan over. "So how was boot camp? I noticed the increase in muscular power." She gave his right biceps a light, flirtatious squeeze.
"You would." Tristan muttered under his breath.
"What was that?" Rachel asked batting her eye lashes and sweeping her long red hair over her shoulder.
"Nothing." Tristan began walking down the hallway, "Tell Paris I'm in the library okay? So she doesn't have another spazz attack."
Tristan made his way to the library leaving behind an open mouthed Rachel. She pissed him off so much, they all did. His first day back they all swarmed him, asking him dumb ass questions. Wouldn't give him any space. An angry shudder sliced through him, military camp was almost turning out to be the better alternative.
He found a small cubby hole in the back of the library and pulled out a book, but never really read.
Things at home weren't much better. Turns out his father had been sleeping with numerous woman for the past five years, none of them his mother. Tristan grimaced when he pictured his mother's face and posture when he had returned home. She had bags under her eyes and was stooped over like an old woman. He hated to see her like that, completely devastated.
His mother was a good person, his father was not. How they ended up together he'd never know. He loved his mother more then anything, he hated his father. Thankfully his mother gained full custody of him; not that his father wanted him anyway. They were in the process of moving out.
Soon he thought, soon I won't have to be in that cold, dry house for another day.
Tristan glanced at his watch, fifteen minutes until his free period ended. This made his thoughts turn to Rory Gilmore. Where could she be?
Rory hadn't been at all sick yesterday, he would have noticed. She would never play hooky on a day when she was presenting a grade altering project. Hell, she would never play hooky at all. So, where was she?
They had become somewhat friends this year. He didn't tease her any longer, he had no desire to. He still had an immense crush on her but he didn't want to be in a relationship right now. That's a first.
He smiled as he thought of all the times they had worked on their project together. One time they had went to Rory's house where her mother had attempted to sabotage their studying with no success. He looked forward to being better friends with her in the future.
Once more he glanced at his watch to see that there was only five minutes before the bell rang. He stood up and waked out of the library in search of Paris. Maybe she had gotten that extension.
Tristan strode down the hallway, his eyes scanning for Paris.
"Tristan." A weak voice called to him from behind.
Is that Paris? It can't be it sounds nothing like her.but it was. He turned around to see Paris slowly walking towards him. "Paris, did we get the extension?"
"No.no we didn't." Her voice broke off.
When Tristan was close enough to her, he saw that she looked lost and somewhat distraught. "Paris!" He said, surprised. "What's wrong?" When has Paris Gellar ever looked lost or distraught?
She looked up at him, almost confused. "Rory.she.her." Paris struggled with her words.
Tristan grabbed a hold of Paris's shoulders and lightly shook, "What is it? Did something happen to Rory?"
"Yes.I mean well, no." Distracted, she looked around.
"Paris, please tell me what's wrong." Tristan said desperate.
"Rory's mom, she-she was in an accident." Paris lowered her head.
Tristan's arms tightened on her shoulders. "What happened." He whispered it.
Paris looked up, her eyes bright with tears. " Her car ran off the road.Oh, Tristan." Paris drew in short breaths. "She's dead.
"Shit.oh, shit." Tristan's arms dropped to his sides, shocked.
"That's why she wasn't here." Paris shook her head. "Oh God, she was the most open person I think I've ever met."
Tristan was still cursing, his hands running through his hair. "No, way. Oh, shit.no way."
Paris began sobbing, "Oh, God. I can't believe this happened." She shook her head hard and tried to force the tears back to no avail. "I don't even know why I'm crying so hard.I barely even knew her."
Tristan stopped cursing and surprised them both by bringing Paris into his embrace.
More tears came, "It's just that she's like know one I've ever met."
Tristan ran his hands through her hair trying to give comfort. He squeezed his own eyes shut willing the tears not to come.
"I remember when I first met her, I thought.I thought, I wish my mom was like that."