She had never liked confrontation. She danced around it at every opportunity. In her experience, it had never worked, though it always seemed to be inevitable. And now, here she was, pressing her lips together and starting at her plate of chicken and mashed potatoes. Jess's eyes were on her, but she didn't dare look up.

"I'm assuming you know about the job opportunity at the paper?"

And any semblance of a pleasant dinner goes down the drain, She thought, nodding and stuffing a bite of food in her mouth.

"When are you applying?"

She looked down at her food. "Oh, I'm not."

"What? Why?"

No answer.

"Why, Rory?"

"I just don't think it's the best fit for me."

"Not the best - what's gotten into you?"

She shook her head, already feeling the threat of tears. "Just let it go, Jess."

"Did you already interview? If they didn't let you in -"

Slamming her fork down, she jumped up from her seat. "No! No, I didn't interview and I'm not going to, okay?" The threat became an attack, spilling a drop out of her eye and sliding down her cheek. She turned away from him.

He stood up, voice softening. "What happened, Rory?" When she didn't answer him, he placed his hands on her shoulders, steering her towards the living room. "Come on."

"But the food…I need food. I'm still partly a Gilmore, you know."

"We'll warm it up later." He flicked the light off on the way to the sofa.

"Jess, no." Panic filled her. He pulled her down anyways.

"Something is obviously going on. Now, we can sit here all night and you can tell me, or we can sit her all night and you can keep it to yourself and be miserable. It's your choice, really."

Crossing her arms, she looked away from his shadow, fighting against the words that ached to leak out of her. They dueled with the thoughts that it was just too petty. She was taking it too personally. It was ridiculous that she would hold on to something for so long. She allowed herself another glance at his profile, a bit of the tightness in her throat dispersing. It was Jess, after all. For all his sarcastic remarks, he always knew what to say to her. Still, she pressed her lips together and debated how long it would take her to wrench herself free from his grasp, run to the door, and hightail it down the street. Too long, she thought. Probably wasn't even worth it. There had to be a better option.

Jess' hand swept lightly over her arm; the tears that gathered in her eyes falling with his downward stroke. He always managed to surprise her with these gentle gestures that communicated all the words he couldn't say. His hand reached her wrist and rested on top of her clenched fist, as he rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand. Defeated, she drew in a shaky mouthful of air, even as the fear and dread and memories gathered inside of her.

"Growing up, everyone thought I was perfect. I got into Chilton and was headed for Harvard. Yeah, there were a few bumps along the way, but nothing to prepare me for…" She shook her head and sniffed.

The sputter of the air conditioning shutting off echoed for a second, before plunging the room back into stillness.

"I never really told anyone why I dropped out of Yale. My mom figured it out, but I denied it. I felt stupid for taking things so personally." She took another shuddering breath. "I did an internship for Logan's dad. I thought it went really well. I did all they asked me to, all I thought they wanted me to do. But Mitchum essentially told me that I didn't have what it takes to make it in the 'real world'."

She almost expected Jess to voice an immediate refute, but he remained silent.

"Now I know not to even care about something a Huntzberger said. But every single time I'm in a situation like this, I keep going back to it. I hate it, but that's how it is. I keep thinking that if maybe I just wrote a little better, if I worked a little harder, if I was a little smarter, a little less naïve -"

"Rory." The hand on her arm stopped her. "Don't even go there."

"Too late." An attempt at a wry laugh choked her.

"I have a lot of things to say to this Mitchum Huntzberger, but…" He brushed a strand of hair from her face. "You've already proven him wrong."

She nodded slightly as silence swallowed everything in the room.

"So…about that interview."

Irritation burst through her. "Jess, I can't just move past this. Believe me, if I could, I would do it in a heartbeat."

"Right." He dropped his hands from her shoulders and into his lap. "Sorry."

She glanced away.

"Those Huntzbergers just need someone to tell them to take a long walk off a short pier. And if anyone can make that happen, it's you."

"Since when do you use phrases like that?"

"It was better than the alternatives. Besides, it seems to be Luke's new catchphrase. Blame it on him."

"So, I either push them off the pier or completely destroy the bridge?"

"Okay, okay. That's the last time I use a phrase like that."

"I'm just trying to figure all this out, Jess."

"Don't even try." He stood up slowly, then bent over to kiss her cheek. "Just think about it, alright?"

A nod.

He began walking towards the kitchen. "Dinner's getting cold."

"It's already cold."

"That's why there's this invention called the microwave -"

"Fascinating. Stick mine in there too, while you're at it."

Jess hesitated near the doorway. "You want these on or off?"

"Leave them off. I'll be there in a minute." Just before he turned his back, she caught a glimpse of his upturned lips outlined against the sliver of light that leaked in from the other room.