Author: hlf 2002
Title: A Moment of Forgiveness
Rating: PG
Pairing: R/J
Chapter: 1/1
Summary: Rory calls Jess from Yale. They haven't spoken since he left for California.
Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine. They are the sole property of Amy Sherman-Palladino and the WB. The quote at the beginning and the title are from "Moment of Forgiveness" by the Indigo Girls from their Become You album.
"Well I guess that I was lonely
That's why I called you on the phone
Cause in a moment of forgiveness
I didn't want to be alone."
-Indigo Girls
Rory Gilmore was seated in the closet of her dorm room, knees pulled tightly to her chest, a worn piece of paper in one hand and her cordless phone in the other.
Either do it, or go back to bed, she told herself. She took a deep breath and dialed the phone quickly before she had time to change her mind again. The phone began to ring and she felt panic course through her.
Maybe no one will answer, she told herself, and then he picked up the phone.
"Hello?" he said, his voice thick with sleep.
"You were sleeping," she said quickly. "I can call back some other time."
"Rory," he said, and it hung in the air.
"Yeah," she whispered, fingering the top button of her flannel cow pajamas.
"You don't have to call back later. I wasn't sleeping," Jess said, and she knew that he was lying. "So, what are you doing up? It must be," he paused for a moment and she smiled slightly as she pictured him groggily doing the math, "nearly four in the morning in New Haven."
"Couldn't sleep," she answered, and he accepted this. "So, tell me about California."
"What about it?"
"Anything. I've never been," she said.
"Well, it's November and it hasn't gotten below seventy once, which takes a little getting used to."
"One would imagine."
"My dad's place is right by the boardwalk, and I have a place there where I like to go and read."
"Sounds nice."
"It's okay. So, what's Yale like? Have they made you their queen yet?"
She snorted. "Hardly. I thought that Chilton was crazy with all of the work that they assigned, but it was nothing compared to Yale. Honestly, I'm struggling to keep my head above water."
"And you love it," he said.
"And I love it," she confirmed.
"Good."
"You promised you'd call when you got settled in."
"I know," he said.
"It's been six months since you left."
"I'm not settled yet?" he said, knowing that wasn't an explanation. He exhaled sharply. "So, what are you reading?"
"Transition never was your thing." She smiled slightly. "Actually, I've been reading a lot of Raymond Carver."
"Really?" he asked, and she could almost picture him arching one eyebrow. "What's wrong, Sylvia Plath a little too cheery for you?"
"Oh, and your beloved Hemmingway is Prozac in book form," she spit back.
He laughed. "Put your weapons down and keep your hands where I can see them Miss Gilmore. I'm not trashing Carver. I actually liked 'Why Don't You Dance?' He just seems a little dark for you."
"You know, when I read him for the first time I did think that he was a little depressing, but Mr. Carver and I have recently become reacquainted, and we're getting along much better the second time around."
"Maybe you're just coming at him from a different angle."
"Maybe." She paused. "I've missed this," she whispered.
"Good."
"Good?"
"Yeah, I've missed this too," he said, ruffling his hair.
She smiled. "Good. Maybe you won't be such a stranger then. Pick up the phone every once in a while. Send an e-mail."
"Maybe I won't."
"Won't what?" she asked.
"I won't be a stranger, okay?" It came out harsher than he had intended, and he sighed, making a conscious effort to soften his tone. "I didn't mean to wait this long to talk to you. I wanted to call plenty of times, but I didn't know what to say and then too much time passed and I didn't know how to explain why it took me so long, and I didn't want to hear about the new guy in your life..."
"What new guy? There's no new guy."
"Maybe not yet, but there will be. And there should be. There are thousands of guys at Yale, smart guys who care as much about school as you do and want the same kind of things that you do, and I guess that I wasn't ready to hear about them yet."
"Is there a new girl?" she asked quietly.
"No one of consequence," he answered after a minute.
She pictured him pressed up against a tree in the Star's Hollow town square, Shane clinging to his lips. She shuddered slightly.
"I should go," she said. "I have to get up in four hours and I should try to get a little bit of sleep. While caffeine is a wonder drug, even coffee won't be enough to keep me awake in Western Civilization if I haven't been to bed at all."
"Boring professor?"
"The worst. But I've got a great teacher for my Nineteenth Century British Novels class, so it all balances out."
"Well, good night then."
"Good night."
"And Rory..."
"Yeah?"
"I'm glad you called."
"Me too."
The End
A/N: If you haven't read anything by Raymond Carver, walk, don't run to your local bookstore. He's best known for his unsentimental short stories about male/female relationships. I strongly recommend Where I'm Calling From, a collection of his stories including "Why Don't You Dance?" Thus ends my commercial message. This is my first effort at fan fiction. Drop me a line and let me know what you think.
Title: A Moment of Forgiveness
Rating: PG
Pairing: R/J
Chapter: 1/1
Summary: Rory calls Jess from Yale. They haven't spoken since he left for California.
Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine. They are the sole property of Amy Sherman-Palladino and the WB. The quote at the beginning and the title are from "Moment of Forgiveness" by the Indigo Girls from their Become You album.
"Well I guess that I was lonely
That's why I called you on the phone
Cause in a moment of forgiveness
I didn't want to be alone."
-Indigo Girls
Rory Gilmore was seated in the closet of her dorm room, knees pulled tightly to her chest, a worn piece of paper in one hand and her cordless phone in the other.
Either do it, or go back to bed, she told herself. She took a deep breath and dialed the phone quickly before she had time to change her mind again. The phone began to ring and she felt panic course through her.
Maybe no one will answer, she told herself, and then he picked up the phone.
"Hello?" he said, his voice thick with sleep.
"You were sleeping," she said quickly. "I can call back some other time."
"Rory," he said, and it hung in the air.
"Yeah," she whispered, fingering the top button of her flannel cow pajamas.
"You don't have to call back later. I wasn't sleeping," Jess said, and she knew that he was lying. "So, what are you doing up? It must be," he paused for a moment and she smiled slightly as she pictured him groggily doing the math, "nearly four in the morning in New Haven."
"Couldn't sleep," she answered, and he accepted this. "So, tell me about California."
"What about it?"
"Anything. I've never been," she said.
"Well, it's November and it hasn't gotten below seventy once, which takes a little getting used to."
"One would imagine."
"My dad's place is right by the boardwalk, and I have a place there where I like to go and read."
"Sounds nice."
"It's okay. So, what's Yale like? Have they made you their queen yet?"
She snorted. "Hardly. I thought that Chilton was crazy with all of the work that they assigned, but it was nothing compared to Yale. Honestly, I'm struggling to keep my head above water."
"And you love it," he said.
"And I love it," she confirmed.
"Good."
"You promised you'd call when you got settled in."
"I know," he said.
"It's been six months since you left."
"I'm not settled yet?" he said, knowing that wasn't an explanation. He exhaled sharply. "So, what are you reading?"
"Transition never was your thing." She smiled slightly. "Actually, I've been reading a lot of Raymond Carver."
"Really?" he asked, and she could almost picture him arching one eyebrow. "What's wrong, Sylvia Plath a little too cheery for you?"
"Oh, and your beloved Hemmingway is Prozac in book form," she spit back.
He laughed. "Put your weapons down and keep your hands where I can see them Miss Gilmore. I'm not trashing Carver. I actually liked 'Why Don't You Dance?' He just seems a little dark for you."
"You know, when I read him for the first time I did think that he was a little depressing, but Mr. Carver and I have recently become reacquainted, and we're getting along much better the second time around."
"Maybe you're just coming at him from a different angle."
"Maybe." She paused. "I've missed this," she whispered.
"Good."
"Good?"
"Yeah, I've missed this too," he said, ruffling his hair.
She smiled. "Good. Maybe you won't be such a stranger then. Pick up the phone every once in a while. Send an e-mail."
"Maybe I won't."
"Won't what?" she asked.
"I won't be a stranger, okay?" It came out harsher than he had intended, and he sighed, making a conscious effort to soften his tone. "I didn't mean to wait this long to talk to you. I wanted to call plenty of times, but I didn't know what to say and then too much time passed and I didn't know how to explain why it took me so long, and I didn't want to hear about the new guy in your life..."
"What new guy? There's no new guy."
"Maybe not yet, but there will be. And there should be. There are thousands of guys at Yale, smart guys who care as much about school as you do and want the same kind of things that you do, and I guess that I wasn't ready to hear about them yet."
"Is there a new girl?" she asked quietly.
"No one of consequence," he answered after a minute.
She pictured him pressed up against a tree in the Star's Hollow town square, Shane clinging to his lips. She shuddered slightly.
"I should go," she said. "I have to get up in four hours and I should try to get a little bit of sleep. While caffeine is a wonder drug, even coffee won't be enough to keep me awake in Western Civilization if I haven't been to bed at all."
"Boring professor?"
"The worst. But I've got a great teacher for my Nineteenth Century British Novels class, so it all balances out."
"Well, good night then."
"Good night."
"And Rory..."
"Yeah?"
"I'm glad you called."
"Me too."
The End
A/N: If you haven't read anything by Raymond Carver, walk, don't run to your local bookstore. He's best known for his unsentimental short stories about male/female relationships. I strongly recommend Where I'm Calling From, a collection of his stories including "Why Don't You Dance?" Thus ends my commercial message. This is my first effort at fan fiction. Drop me a line and let me know what you think.
