"I can't believe it's my last day at stars Hollow high! I'm totally going to miss this place," she said, kind of sadly, as she walked to the school in an over sized jumper and jeans alongside her best friend.

"Now my mother is going to have to find me a new protector from the dirty boys," Lane whined. "Not that you were such a great one..." she eyed Rory, thinking about the thing she had with Dean when they were 15.

"I swear to god, stop bringing that up. We're friends now, I don't want it to get awkward."

Lane scoffed. "Oh yeah, it's not awkward at all right now."

"Shut up!" She shoved Lane playfully, but she knew full well that her friend was right; things had been super awkward with Dean ever since they decided it was time to break it off, they had mutually lost their feelings for one another. No fight, or anything, just a sort of... what was the word? Friendly breakup.

"Wow, speak of the devil, hey!" Lane greeted the beanstalk teenager looming in front of them, laughing as Rory was snatched from her thoughts and her attention brought to Dean. "Uh, hi. Dean."

"Hi."

"Hey."

"Okay, now we add another word, guys."

"Okay," Rory said. "Who's the new guy?" She pointed to a boy who seemed to be in their year, sitting on a bench reading a book – Howl, she made out the title. He looked like a bit of a loner, but he looked nice all the same.

"I don't know, he looks rough," Lane mused. "But dreamy."

"Yeah. Dreamy. And he likes reading, that's always a plus."

Dean cleared his throat. "Guys, can we stop fawning over the new guy? He's staring."

Rory looked over to where he sat, an amused look playing over his lips. He smiled to himself, before looking back down at the book. "So, I'm gonna..." he gestured into the school building.

"Bye Deano!" Lane called after him.

"So, what do we do now?" Rory asked.

Lane smiled. "We talk to him, find out if he's really as rough as he looks."

Rory laughed softly. "I'm still waiting for the day when I can have your confidence, but okay let's go."

They walked over to the bench and stood in front of him. He didn't seem to notice them. "Watcha reading?" Lane asked, plopping herself roughly onto the bench next to him. When he didn't answer, she prodded him. "Helo-o? Earth to new kid!" Lane kept pestering him, while Rory just stood awkwardly to the side.

"What do you want? You selling cookies? Jeez," he scowled, returning to his book.

"Hey, we're just trying to be nice," Lane said, "Rory here likes that book, also."

Jess eyed her. "You read?"

Rory giggled, unsure as to why. "Uh, yeah, you can come see my collection if you like."

"Yeah, then we can have a slumber party!" Jess said sarcastically. "Look, I don't want to be an ass, but I'm already pissed off because I'm here, and I don't want you to be on the tail end of that. So go away."

Lane gave him a questioning look. "And why are you –"

"Lane!" Rory dragged her friend away, leaving Jess in his own amused company.

As the bell rang, Rory and Lane made their way to meet Dean in their first class. As they took their seats next to the beanstalk, Lane started to chat to him, but Rory couldn't help but notice a familiar leather jacket-bound figure walking in the door, talking to the teacher with a smirk on his face. She almost laughed out loud, though, when the teacher made the boy stand in front of the class and introduce himself, his smirk turning to a scowl. "I'm Jess Mariano," he mumbled. "I'm new here, don't try to talk to me, I don't want to deal with anyone's rambling. I have so idea how long I'll be here for, so don't get used to my presence. There. Can I sit now?" The teacher nodded, and Jess took the only seat left in the class – the one on the other side of Rory.

"H-Hi," she stuttered. "Jess, right?" She never fumbled on her words, so why was she all of a sudden unable to grasp the English language?

"What did I say about not talking to me?" He frowned at her.

"Sorry. Forget I said anything."

"No... I just meant you obviously have a terrible memory."

"Why, thankyou."

Jess smirked, obviously amused by their ridiculous conversation. "So... who's the giant?" He gestured to Dean.

Rory went a little pink, saying,"He's, uh, my ex. But we're... friends? I don't know what we are. We're trying to be friends, but it's really awkward."

Jess simply shook his head.

"What?" Rory asked, annoyed at how impossible he was.

"You can't be friends with an ex. Well, depending on how you broke up."

"I'm not telling you that!" She went a darker shade of red.

"I didn't ask you to."

"What?"

"I said, 'depending on how you broke up'. I didn't ask what happened, you got there on your own."

Rory frowned, her face fifty shades of purple. Why was she acting this way? She had only known this guy for... 40 minutes? Even when she had met Dean, she had a firmer grasp on speech... if 'the cakes are very round' counted as a good grasp. This was just normal... no, who was she kidding? There was something different about this guy. He liked to read – that was definitely something. He seemed to share her intellect, and (though she hated to admit it) the way he smirked... it was kind of... sexy?

"Rory? Care to answer the question?" the teacher was asking her a question, and she was too busy sorting out her messy head to realise it. She snapped out of her daze. "S-sorry. What was the question?" Jess snickered, earning a glare from Rory.

"What year did Shakespeare write Othello?"

Rory had a mental blank. She knew the answer, of course, but she was so messed up in the head that she couldn't think. After about 20 seconds, she stammered, "uhhhhh... 16-1604."

"Wow," Jess whispered. "You seemed like someone who would know the answer to that."

Rory turned fuchsia. "Shut up. I had a mental blank."

"What was distracting you?"

"Uhh..." she didn't exactly know how to phrase what she was thinking, but she was interrupted by the teacher.

"You two care to tell the class that private conversation you're having?"

"No, Miss." Rory sighed.

"Good."

As they got out of class, Jess tried to catch up with a jogging Rory, eventually falling in step with her. "Well, you really are a suck up."

"Thanks. Now go away."

"Actually, I think I might stay here," he mused. "What happened with you and Dean?"

Rory frowned, "What's it to you?"

"Well, you seemed very into not sharing that particular information with me, so now I'm curious."

"Wow, this is coming from the guy who was telling me to stop talking to him this morning."

"Yep."

"I'll tell you Monday?"

"I heard rumours that you're not coming back on Monday. Something about a private school."

Rory rolled her eyes. "News travels fast. Even with your nose touching the pages of a Hemingway."

"Hey, in just an avid reader, like you."

"Yeah, but I don't read crap. Ayn Rand is much more interesting."

"Ayn Rand is a political nut."

"But nobody could write a 40 page monologue the way she could."

"Whatever. I'm going to go back to my Hemingway. See you round... what's your name?"

"Rory. Well, Lorelai technically. My mothers name is Lorelai too. Weird, I know. She said that men name sons after themselves all the time, so why couldn't women do the –"

"Stop rambling, it's annoying."

Rory bit her lip. "Sorry. Bye Jess."

"Bye, Lorelai."

"It's Rory!"

"Sorry, Rory."

She walked off, a smile playing tenderly at her face. She had managed to actually talk to Jess, not just stutter out a few words. She was walking out of the building with a box of stuff when she crashed into a blonde guy in jeans and a grey shirt, the things in her box spilling everywhere. "Very graceful," he laughed.

"Wow, talking to new guys a lot today," she said under her breath, and the guy smirked.

"You think nobody can hear you, but your mumbling is incredibly loud, you know."

"No, I didn't know. Thanks. Now, either help me pick up my stuff or go watch a ball game, whatever." To her surprise, he bent down and picked up all her books and put them back into the box before she could even look down. "What's your name?" He asked, still picking up her stuff.

"Oh, it's Rory."

"Why, that sounds like one of my friends names. Never heard it on a female."

Rory blushed, for what felt like the 100th time that day. "It's actually Lorelai, Rory for short."

"Lorelai. That's a nice name. I'm going o call you that from now on." He got up, and smoothed his shirt. "Bye, Lorelai."

She stood still for a moment, before yelling, "wait!" He turned around.

"What?"

"You never told me your name."

"Oh, right. It's Logan. Logan Huntzberger."

Rory's eyes widened. "As in Mitchum..."

He scowled. "That's the one."

"Woah, I've always wanted to be a journalist, and – and your dad, he –"

"Do you want to meet him?"

"I... wait, what?! Really?"

Logan smiled broadly. "Yeah, sure. Just so you know, he's kind of an ass."

"Sure he is," she said sarcastically.

Logan's face turned serious. "No, really. Obviously you can go meet him, if you really want to... but he'll probably crush your journalism dreams. He'll tell you that you're not gonna make it. That you'd make a good secretary. Or someone who hands out sandwiches for the Real journalists. But, as I said. Go ahead, meet him, whatever."

Rory cleared her throat. "Maybe I'll hold off..."

He smirked. "Good choice, Lorelai. See you round."