Rory looked at her watch and saw it was 5:39 AM. Then she looked at her surroundings and noticed she was in a canvas hammock, on top of a sleeping, snoring Marty. Oh boy. How was she supposed to get out without knocking both of them to the floor?
"Hey Ace, looks like you two had a good night," Logan mused from one side of the hammock.
"Shhh. Can you please extricate me from this predicament without waking the snoring beast?"
"A damsel in distress, how can I resist?" and with that he carefully slid one arm under Rory's stomach and lowered his head towards her so she could wrap her arms around his neck and pull herself up and surprisingly enough, Logan had lifted Rory off of Marty's sleeping form and he held her in his arms.
"Any other requests Lady Marmalade? Puddles to avoid?"
"I am not a French prostitute. How would that even fit into the theme of Gatsby?"
"Ace, we've thrown so many parties at this point and drained the state of Connecticut of all hard liquors that you cannot possibly expect this fireman's rescue to include geographical accuracies…"
"Um, thanks for rescuing me and all, but could you let me down? And why do you keep calling me Ace?"
Logan stared into her eyes, not ready to put her back on her feet, so he didn't and proceeded to carry her through the house full of passed out partygoers, calculating that she wouldn't want to wake all the sleeping drunks.
Rory couldn't decide if she was mad at Logan or swept away by this gesture. He sure was strong. Nobody had carried her anywhere ever and it made her feel special. How was he not hung-over like the rest of them?
Finally at the front foyer, Logan steadied Rory on her feet and rested his hands on her shoulders.
"You're a reporter, no? I like the name Ace for you. It fits. Next time you attend one of our shindigs however, you must dress theme appropriate, not that I don't admire a woman confident enough to wear a, 'Did I do that?' Urkel t-shirt, ironic or not."
For the second time, Rory blushed in front of Logan. "I packed all my clothes, except for this semi-clean t-shirt. I didn't know I would be attending this party 'til the last minute. Trying to start my summer being more spontaneous I guess."
"Maybe Marty isn't the most reliable messenger. Give me your phone number so I can be sure you attend my next affair in proper regalia. You DO want to attend my next party, right? I mean, my buddy Finn needs new women to hit on, and I think he'd be thrilled at the prospect of being shot down by someone as lovely as you."
"Well, who says I'd shoot him down? Maybe I'd tag him and keep him as a trophy."
"Am I interrupting something? Rory, are you ready to walk back to campus?"
Rory wasn't ready to leave. She was pulled into Logan's orbit and she wished to remain there a little longer.
"LOGAN! There you are. We need to clear out of here and probably clear the blacked out rapscallions. And who would you be lass? Were you at our party last night? Let's run away to Paris."
"Down Finn. This is Rory, she works with me on the paper, and this is Marty, our bartender from the Hemingway Haunted House party."
"Charmed. Well Jay old sport, we need to vacate."
"I've got to go. My mother is expecting me, wait, oh no! She was expecting me last night. I totally forgot to call her, and I never recharged my phone."
"Let's get back to campus and you can use mine," Marty offered.
"Yeah, well, thanks Logan, great end of year rager. Have a great summer."
Marty felt a sense of relief as they walked down the broken pavement path and away from rich, handsome, Logan Gatsby. Rory had been sleeping so soundly and comfortably with him, he thought he could parlay that into some cute morning chat. Was she flirting with Logan? Rory didn't care about riches. He was still in this. Must avoid the playboy at all costs.
"Marty, did I black out? How did we get upstairs? When did we fall asleep in the hammock? Did you know you sound like an outboard motor when you snore? I need coffee."
Marty smiled to himself.