So Far Apart
Disclaimer: I do not own anything pertaining to Gilmore Girls, period.
Setting: Some time a little before Rose and William decide to send Tristan to Military School.
Thanks to: Curley-Q for being the first reviewer and for giving me that important FYI.
"Hey, Tristan!" Duncan called out. Tristan didn't even turn around to acknowledge the presence of his once-friend. "Tr-ris-sta-an!" he yelled, jogging up to Tristan, a little red faced from the exertion. "Hey, what's wrong with you? We're your friends, man!" he reproached him. But still Tristan went on walking toward the big doors of Chilton High, his backpack bouncing up and down as he walked. Bowman decided to give it a try.
"Tristan, come on! What's wrong?" And then something seemed to occur to the oaf. "Oh, I get it." He grinned obnoxiously. "It's because he got busted for not going to school yesterday. Well, we can help him with that, can't we, Duncan?" Duncan grinned just as widely as his friend and they gave each other devious looks. Tristan was confused, though he was still pretending not to hear or care. "Hear that, Trisha? We can help you with that little problem. Piece of French-fry." Tristan was interested now, but still he didn't turn around.
"OK then. What was that restaurant that's having its grand opening today, Bowman? Wasn't it Tiger Fire, the one we've all been dying to go to for ages while it was being built? And they're going to be giving away free samples, right, Bowman? Well, looks like we'll have to go there alone, just the two of us, if Trisha's being such a stickler." Tristan's stomach betrayed him by grumbling, and Duncan and Bowman slapped each other high-fives, knowing he would give in soon.
Finally, Tristan turned around to face them. "Look, guys, I'm not going to do this anymore. No more playing Hooky or anything. I just want to get through this school year OK, go through college, and then have a life. And I can't have a life if I keep acting up like this. Get it? Unlike you, I am looking forward to having a life. So leave me alone."
Duncan turned to face Bowman, and Bowman shrugged. "Alright then, Trisha. We'll leave you alone. But don't expect us to bring you some of those grilled chicken legs Tiger Fire is giving away." With that, he pulled a crisp, square piece of paper out of his pocket, as did Duncan. On it was written, 'Please excuse Bowman. He has an appointment with his Psychologist today. –Anne' Tristan was impressed. So that was why they never got in trouble. They forged their parents' handwriting and pretended they were off seeing their psychologist, which the teachers would readily believe.
"Does that really work?" Tristan asked before he thought more about it, looking at the notes skeptically. Duncan and Bowman nodded, eager. Soon, Tristan found himself with a note of his own in his hand. 'Please excuse Tristan. He has an appointment with his Psychologist today. -William.'
-&-
William DuGrey found himself twirling a blue fountain pen in his right hand over and over, much the way he had yesterday, his thoughts straying to Tristan. Impossible, misbehaving Tristan. Did the boy know that he really did feel some affection for him, sometimes? That he did actually care if Tristan got through High School or not? This time, he was sitting across from one, 'Patricia Egging,' a pleasant woman with a deep tan and light brown hair. She was talking to him nonstop, but William found it hard to pay much attention to her. 'Sign this, sign that, the benefits are this, the benefits are that, money, money, money.' It wasn't as though he needed more money. And every second William expected Sid to burst in with the phone in his hand. 'Sir, it's from a "Mr. Charleston, principal of Chilton High"…'
Ms. Egging went on and on and on. Such a bore. Finally, William decided that he wouldn't suffer this just to get a few thousand more dollars. He certainly didn't need it. "Excuse me, Ms. Egging," he interrupted her, just as she was saying something about the benefits of signing the form and how much money he would get from it. Patricia looked horrified that Mr. DuGrey had interrupted her so readily. "I really have to go. If you'd excuse me…?" He looked at his watch for emphasis, and when William looked up he saw Ms. Egging nodding her head, looking a little confused.
"Certainly, certainly. If you'd take the form with you…?"
"No thank you, Ms. Egging."
"Erm…if you think it's better that way…"
"I do."
"Um…OK. If you would just let me write down my e-mail address for you so you can contact me?"
"No need. Goodbye."
And with that William left her, gaping like a fish at how rude he'd turned out to be.
He really did need some time off though. Maybe he'd go to that new restaurant, Tiger Fire, was it?
-&-
They were just leaving the restaurant, Bowman and Duncan wiping emphatically at their filthy, greasy mouths and Tristan finishing up a chicken leg, when the BMW pulled up outside the restaurant. Tristan thought his heart had stopped. What was his dad doing here? Had someone tipped him off? More importantly, what would he do when he saw Tristan?
He won't see me, Tristan decided. Quickly, he ducked underneath a nearby bush and waited, watching in terror, as his father entered the restaurant. When William DuGrey saw Duncan and Bowman, he frowned, his forehead crinkling. "What are you two boys doing here? Aren't you supposed to be at school? Oh, playing Hooky, are you. I see."
Luckily, William, Duncan and Bowman had never seen each other before. "No, sir. The teacher just sent us to get him some chicken…He likes his chicken, he does," Duncan made up, his excuse pathetically feeble. William didn't seem to believe a word of it, but he didn't care enough to interrogate them further. Instead, he ducked inside the restaurant and Tristan quickly seized his friends, hauling them away as fast as possible.
"What was that?" Bowman asked, horrified, when they were safely outside the doors of Tristan's mansion.
"That was my father," Tristan told him severely, pushing open the door and running up the stairs to his room, leaving Duncan and Bowman at the bottom, perplexed. That had been a close one. Too close.
"Hey, Tristan!" Duncan yelled up the staircase, his voice as greasy and sticky as the food at Tiger Fire had been. "What 'bout tomorrow? Will you join us tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow's Saturday!" Tristan called back.
"So yes or no?" Bowman asked, impatient.
"No," Tristan answered, a little frustrated with the two. Did they think he was going to risk his life every day?
"OK, how 'bout Sunday?" Duncan persisted, stubbornly.
Tristan paused, thinking. "Maybe," he told them. And then slammed the door. That was it.
-&-
William DuGrey turned the brass key in the fancy lock and pushed the heavy mansion doors in, then stepped inside his home, wiping his shiny black shoes on the WELCOME mat waiting for him. His shoes squeaked slightly as he walked on the black-and-white tiles toward his bedroom, which looked more like a ballroom. His wife, Rose DuGrey, was already reclining on the bed like a Queen. "Hello, Rose," he greeted her cheerfully. She raised her eyebrows at him.
"Hello, Will. How was work?" she asked a little skeptically. William didn't see why she was acting so strangely.
"Work was great. I actually took a break by going to that new restaurant, Tiger Fire," he informed her happily, carefully removing his black-and-red striped tie and throwing it on the ground for a maid to put away later.
"Oh? How was it? Meet anyone…you know?" she asked him in that same suspicious tone. William was rather puzzled.
"Now that you mention it, I did see Robert Green, an old friend of mine. Is that what you mean?" he tried to help her out by saying.
Rose shook her head and seemed relieved. "No, but it doesn't matter. So…you didn't get any more phone calls from…him?" Her unease had returned.
"Now that you mention it, no! It looks as though our Tristan has decided to-" Suddenly William knew what she had meant. He went to sit beside his wife on the bed and patted her fondly on the shoulder, his smile wide and comforting. "Look, Rose, I think Tristan has changed his ways. And if I do find out that he hasn't, I have an idea."
Rose looked a little less pale, but still seemed dubious. "What? What's your idea, Will?" she asked him, curious.
He twirled a lock of her beautiful hair around his finger thoughtfully. "Well, a friend of mine had a son who misbehaved…once. But then he had this idea, and when his son came back he was completely reformed, the ideal child."
Rose seemed hooked. "What was his idea?" she whispered faintly, gripping William's shoulder with a surprising force. "What did he do with his son?"
"Now, this is just if we find out Tristan has been misbehaving again. Otherwise it's completely unnecessary, you understand, Rose?" he made sure.
Rose nodded eagerly. "Yes, I understand. So what was his idea?"
William smiled at her lovingly. "Military School. In North Carolina."
