Hey everyone. :) Again - thanks for the feedback, it means the world to me. And I would especially appreciate it for this chapter.

It seems that this story is gonna be finished, after all.

Well, that's it I guess. Enjoy. Oh, the song mentioned is The Shins' "Know Your Onion!".

"I'm alright," she said. The Shins were playing softly in the background, singing about cars parked upon their chests. Rory, more than likely identifying with the lyrics, was fiddling with the hem of her skirt, anxious for the conversation to come to an end. "Yes." She shut her eyes and listened to whatever it was Emily was telling her over the phone. "Yes Grandma. I'll be back soon, I just..."

Tristan turned another corner. The Shins were now chanting about making themselves, and Tristan took another glance at the girl sitting beside him. Sloped shoulders, blank expression, eyelids desperately holding that shining blue apart of the rest of the world. He just... wanted to hold her tight, until everything else went away. Well, until then, and then some more.

"Don't worry, I'm with a friend," she said distractedly.

His missed a heartbeat.

"Some schoolwork." And, seeing that her Grandmother was not going to let it slide so easily, she said softly, "I just need some time away". She then smiled shakily – Emily understood, for once – and said goodbye. She turned the cellphone off with a sigh. She glanced at Tristan, sitting next to her. Then looked out the window.

"She's just worried, Rory," he said after a pause, a little uncertain as to whether or not it was his place to meddle.

Rory closed her eyes and sunk even further into her seat. "Yeah," she said at last, just as her cellphone started ringing again.

He stopped the car and turned the engine off, as she answered. "Hey Luke."

He sunk into his seat, closing his eyes shut.

She was crying and he was definitely freaking out. After swapping about two sentences with Luke, she said she had to go and burst silently into tears as soon as she hung up. Tristan was left there, sitting next to her, without knowing exactly what the hell he should be doing. A few moments passed before he put his hand on her shoulder and softly said her name. She shook her head and closed her eyes.

"I'm okay," she then said.

"I really... wish you'd stop saying that," he said truthfully. She opened her eyes at once, bright blue staring directly at him, raw and wide. He was on the spot.

"So now you don't want me to be okay?" Anger and desperation creeped into her voice. Her hands were shaking, her eyes still red of recent tears.

"That's not what I said—"

"—I knew I shouldn't have went with you—"

"—don't say that, Rory—"

She let out a bitter chuckle and the words died on his lips and came to an abrupt stop. Her mild chuckle became right out laughter and he took his hand off her shoulder, confused. And mainly hurting.

"I'm sorry," she said finally, "I don't know what I was thinking."

He nodded once, relieved, "I don't—"

"I mean come on. You're only nice to me because—"

"Rory," he started, urgently so.

"—my mother died, and don't you you mean 'Mary'?"

They were staring at each other, both breathing heavily. He felt as if she had punched him right in the stomach. He bitterly realized that she didn't know him at all. And did he know her?

His mind flashed images of him yelling at her, right there and then in his car, telling her she's blind and deaf; and images of her saying she hates him, to her boyfriend, just a few months ago, when school was out – thus causing his whole world to crumble and disappear; of him putting her textbooks on the ground. Buttoning up his blazer and walking away, right? Wasn't he supposed to be walking away? He had decided long ago that he was done trying.

But for once, he kept his emotions in check. Didn't let out a damn word. His father would've been proud at him, he thought bitterly. Then he found himself frightened, bewildered by the mere concept of that elusive thought. He turned away from that mesmerizing blue of hers, and looked sideways, thus caughting a glimpse of himself, reflecting in the car door's mirror. He saw himself then, scared and alone and angry as hell. Abrupt relization kicked in. He looked to his other side and saw a scared girl sitting beside him, consumed by the need to feel. And he knew that need, right? From up close. Just wanting to feel anything, and if that anything was to be rage, then so be it.

She shook her head slightly and turned away, to look out the window, at the cars methodically passing them by.

"That's not true," he said finally and she turned to look at him at once. His voice was husky and low, and there was something terribly alarming to it. It could not be ignored. His expression was blank, and she suddenly didn't know who exactly it was, that was sitting beside her, his entire facade fading away. Suddenly it was just Tristan sitting there, nothing else. And she didn't know what that meant.

"Okay," she said quietly, without thinking. They were still staring at each other, not fully realizing what had just happened.

She felt as if she had just participated in a battle or something. Like a boxing match. And she wasn't exactly sure who won.

Recollecting himself, he finally said, "That's it."

"What?"

"This is where I wanted to take you." He said simply. She didn't say anything, and, after pausing for a second, he just got out of the car.