Once again, thanks to everyone who has reviewed. And thanks to my
mom for attempting to edit, and to Nicole for actually editing. I would be
lost without you. : )
~
Today is Sunday. Normally, at this time Rory would be reading a novel, dreading the next day. Mondays were always the day that came after Sundays. Mondays always meant going back to Chilton. So, Mondays would be forever ruined for Rory. Chilton was so bad; that now, even Sundays were often thought of in a negative light; but not this Sunday. A grin spread across Rory's face. This Sunday was a part of Spring break. There would be no traveling to dreaded Chilton the next day. Plus, both days would be spent, in part, with Tristan. Thus, Sunday and Monday had taken on whole new meanings to Rory. Good meanings, meanings that made her happy and unable to concentrate on her novel of the week.
Rory was lying on her bed, attempting to read. Her half-hearted attempt was failing miserably. Tristan would be here soon. She had already reorganized all their materials for "the worst daycare ever." That had been Rory's attempt to distract her mind from the blond haired boy her mind kept running back to. There was a problem with her clever plan to distract herself with organizing: She had to look at the pink paint. That had brought her mind to the day before; Saturday. That day had been spent with Tristan as well. Rory couldn't ignore the thought that spending certain days with Tristan was giving these days whole new meanings.
Interesting. What would she do next week when Monday would come again, as Mondays always do, (kind of like cockroaches, they never stop coming no matter how many you stomp on) and Rory would have to return to evil Chilton, but she'd be thinking about how she had spent the past Monday (tomorrow) with Tristan. There would be confusion. There might even be confusion now.
Rory reverted to her sighing technique that was supposed to help concentrate her mind. It didn't work. Why did she keep doing that? It never worked. The thought of Tristan wouldn't go away because she was breathing louder and more deeply.
Rory rolled back onto her stomach. She read several sentences, and then looked at the clock. Tristan probably wouldn't be here for another twenty minutes. She looked back at the book, read several sentences, and then looked back at the clock. The time hadn't changed yet. She reverted to her non-working sighing technique, then returned to the novel to read several sentences. Wait! That was confusing. She reread the sentences. Hmm, She realized that she had read the same several sentences four separate times now, possibly more. She had taken a lot of breaks from those several sentences to look at the clock. Usually, Rory didn't take so long to understand several sentences. Rory stared at them blankly. The words became blurry. What was this book about? She couldn't remember the plot, let alone the book title. How unlike Rory.
The sigh therapy was enforced again. No help there. Rory closed the book and rolled back onto her back to stare at the ceiling and wait for time to pass. At least there were no words on the ceiling to get blurry.
"Hey."
Rory turned her attention to her door. Don't think for a second it was Tristan. Lorelei was leaning in the doorframe.
"Hey."
"So, ah, is Evil What's-his-name coming again today?"
"Tristan. And he hasn't been very evil as of late." Deep breath. No, not evil at all, just very cute and funny. "And he should be here in about seventeen minutes."
"Wow! Seventeen minutes huh?"
Rory nodded from her position on her bed.
"So, are you counting the seconds as well?"
Before Rory could answer, the doorbell rang. The race was on. Both Gilmores sprinted for the front door. Lorelei had a slight advantage. She had started closer to the door and had been in a standing position. It is far easier to run from a standing position then from the position of lying on one's back.
So, Lorelei was the first to the door. She already had it open as Rory skid to a halt beside her. Both the Gilmores excitement was obvious, Lorelei's at having won the race, and Rory's at the thought of who would be on the other side of the now open door. Some of both of the girls' excitement went to a lower notch of intensity, however, when Lane was revealed to be the ringer of the doorbell. Lane noticed the lessening of excitement.
"What?"
Lorelei opened the door so Lane could come in. "We raced. I won."
"Oh." Lane nodded remaining outside.
"Only because she had a head start."
"Oh please, we both heard the doorbell at the same time. There weren't two separate doorbell rings."
"But you were closer."
"Not that much closer."
Rory shook her head at her mother. "Why did you ring?"
Lane had been following the slight argument between mother and daughter. So, she wasn't prepared for the question. "What?"
"Why did you ring? You never ring. You don't have to. You just come in normally." Rory explained.
Lane shrugged. "It's a nice doorbell."
Both of the Gilmore girls raised their eyebrows at the comment. "Are you okay?" Rory questioned her best friend, who wasn't behaving at all like her usual self.
"Yeah, I'm fine. My mom's just been driving me crazy. Plus, we promised to hang out together this break. I was just going to make honest people out of both of us."
Rory looked pained. Lorelei walked into the living room, to give her daughter the privacy to let her best friend down slowly.
Lane noticed the pained look and the sudden absence of Lorelei. She put on a resigned face. "What?"
"Well, it's just…you know Tristan is coming over."
Lane's resigned face was replaced with an excited one. "Wait! He's coming over like now. Oh my God! I'll leave you alone then."
Rory rolled her eyes. "It's just to work on a project. He really needs the credit." Rory told her best friend and herself for like the hundredth time.
Lorelei, who was listening from 3 feet behind Rory and visible to Lane, exchanged an "oh please" look with Rory's best friend.
"Right." Lane said, turning to go. "I'll see you later. Tell me how that project goes." Lane turned suddenly back to Rory. "Oh, and don't forget. Wednesday night."
Rory had forgotten. What was happening Wednesday night? Lane could obviously tell by Rory's expression that she had forgotten. But as any good best friend, Lane forgave Rory for her forgetfulness and gave her a hint. "Three-way call with Henry."
Comprehension passed over Rory's face. "Right. Seven o'clock. I got it. See you soon."
Lane smiled and returned to walking back towards her house. Before Rory could close the door though, Tristan pulled up in his silver sports car. In less than a minute he was at the front door. "Did I see Lane leaving?"
Rory stepped back, allowing Tristan to enter the house. "Yep. She just finished reminding me of something."
"Reminding you of what?" Tristan asked playfully.
"Nothing much. Just our evil plan to undermine Mrs. Kim's authority so Lane can talk to her beloved, acceptable-to-parents-but-still-secret, boyfriend, Henry."
Tristan smiled and went into the living room. Rory knew he and Henry had become, as far as she could tell, pretty good friends. Or they could have been friends before, but she had just never really noticed. Rory shook her head before her thoughts went too far off track and closed the front door.
~
Today, the for once enjoyable Sunday, Tristan and Rory were beginning work on the actual Hell proper. The first level was for those who had lusted in their lives. Tristan was painting swirls of wind onto the wooden frame. Rory had praised him for actually using a paintbrush this time. Tristan had commented about how Rory wounded him. He then stated, "After all, this is what the brush is for. I certainly don't want to waste it."
"Hmm." Had been Rory's response. She was working on putting a small dress she had made on Francesca; formerly one of the little green army men. Being pink suited the soon to be her.
Tristan paused from his painting to watch Rory. "You know, in most portrayals, the people in the whirlwind are actually naked."
Rory blushed. For the most part she had learned to control her blushing tendency, at least in front of Tristan. She would reprimand herself for letting this one get by later. "Let me have my illusion. Besides, this way the observer will be able to tell which one are the women. Not like there were any women with the guys you brought."
Tristan spoke as though he was addressing a three year old. "I'm sorry, but the toy company didn't make girl soldiers when I bought the toys."
Rory gave a little glare in his direction. "Well, they should. I still don't think they make girl soldiers." Rory thought for a second. "Not that I've actually looked." Rory refocused. "But by buying only male soldiers you reinforced the company's assumption that the consumer wants only male soldiers."
Tristan couldn't stop his eyes from rolling. "I'm sorry. I was, like, four years old. I just wanted the soldiers to play with. In the future, I'll try to be more careful of the impression I give toy companies. But you know, if it really upsets you, you can write a letter." Tristan went back to his wind painting.
"Well, I'm just saying, it will give children the impression that girls can't be sold-"
"Write a letter."
Rory got the impression Tristan didn't want to talk about thousands of girls across the country who could be assuming, because there were no little green girl soldiers; there could be no real, normal-colored, women soldiers. Rory began attaching strings to all the pink former-soldiers she had just dressed.
Lorelei entered the living room from the kitchen. "Hey, I feel like eating some of that, you know, real food; that is so rarely here. Do you guys want me to get you anything from Luke's?"
Rory glanced at Tristan; he did a nonchalant head-shaking thing. Rory looked back to her mom. "No thanks, we're good."
Tristan finished painting. "There. Our wind will be dry in a few minutes." He began to clean off the paintbrush on some newspaper, but soon went into the kitchen to use water. "So, do you think it would be kind of fun to be stuck in a whirlwind for all eternity?" He questioned.
Rory took a few seconds to think about how to answer. "No. I mean, it could be fun for like five minutes, and then I think I'd start to get sick. After all, it is a punishment in Hell for those who spent their lives lusting. I don't think it's meant to be fun."
"You have a point there." Tristan said reentering the living room. He sat in front of the frame, examining the work they had done so far.
Rory soon joined him with the tied, clothed, pink people ready to be tacked up into their whirlwind. Together they began going about this arduous task. It was hard because the string and tacks were so small. Rory actually began to wish she had smaller fingers.
"So, do you think lust can turn to love?"
Tristan's question surprised Rory. She looked at him beside her. He seemed to be concentrating on getting a tack to stay in the wood. His arms and shoulders moved with the effort. Rory could tell, since they were sitting on their knees shoulder to shoulder.
Rory did a brief moment of her sigh therapy, while she tried to think of her answer. "I don't know." She finally answered truthfully.
"I think it can." Tristan replied rather quietly. Rory looked at him again. He seemed to be concentrating on his work, staring forward into the model.
"Why do you ask?" Rory used a nonchalant tone of voice.
Rory could feel Tristan shrug next to her. "Just curious." He used the same nonchalant tone. Rory found it to be very hard to interpret for underlying emotions.
~
After attaching all the strung people to the ceiling of their destined level of hell, the teens called it a night. "Until tomorrow." Tristan said giving a mock bow.
Rory watched him leave, confused as ever by his earlier behavior.
~
Adios for now. Prepare for "Lane, P.J. Harvey, and Heads Falling Off…AGAIN."
~
Today is Sunday. Normally, at this time Rory would be reading a novel, dreading the next day. Mondays were always the day that came after Sundays. Mondays always meant going back to Chilton. So, Mondays would be forever ruined for Rory. Chilton was so bad; that now, even Sundays were often thought of in a negative light; but not this Sunday. A grin spread across Rory's face. This Sunday was a part of Spring break. There would be no traveling to dreaded Chilton the next day. Plus, both days would be spent, in part, with Tristan. Thus, Sunday and Monday had taken on whole new meanings to Rory. Good meanings, meanings that made her happy and unable to concentrate on her novel of the week.
Rory was lying on her bed, attempting to read. Her half-hearted attempt was failing miserably. Tristan would be here soon. She had already reorganized all their materials for "the worst daycare ever." That had been Rory's attempt to distract her mind from the blond haired boy her mind kept running back to. There was a problem with her clever plan to distract herself with organizing: She had to look at the pink paint. That had brought her mind to the day before; Saturday. That day had been spent with Tristan as well. Rory couldn't ignore the thought that spending certain days with Tristan was giving these days whole new meanings.
Interesting. What would she do next week when Monday would come again, as Mondays always do, (kind of like cockroaches, they never stop coming no matter how many you stomp on) and Rory would have to return to evil Chilton, but she'd be thinking about how she had spent the past Monday (tomorrow) with Tristan. There would be confusion. There might even be confusion now.
Rory reverted to her sighing technique that was supposed to help concentrate her mind. It didn't work. Why did she keep doing that? It never worked. The thought of Tristan wouldn't go away because she was breathing louder and more deeply.
Rory rolled back onto her stomach. She read several sentences, and then looked at the clock. Tristan probably wouldn't be here for another twenty minutes. She looked back at the book, read several sentences, and then looked back at the clock. The time hadn't changed yet. She reverted to her non-working sighing technique, then returned to the novel to read several sentences. Wait! That was confusing. She reread the sentences. Hmm, She realized that she had read the same several sentences four separate times now, possibly more. She had taken a lot of breaks from those several sentences to look at the clock. Usually, Rory didn't take so long to understand several sentences. Rory stared at them blankly. The words became blurry. What was this book about? She couldn't remember the plot, let alone the book title. How unlike Rory.
The sigh therapy was enforced again. No help there. Rory closed the book and rolled back onto her back to stare at the ceiling and wait for time to pass. At least there were no words on the ceiling to get blurry.
"Hey."
Rory turned her attention to her door. Don't think for a second it was Tristan. Lorelei was leaning in the doorframe.
"Hey."
"So, ah, is Evil What's-his-name coming again today?"
"Tristan. And he hasn't been very evil as of late." Deep breath. No, not evil at all, just very cute and funny. "And he should be here in about seventeen minutes."
"Wow! Seventeen minutes huh?"
Rory nodded from her position on her bed.
"So, are you counting the seconds as well?"
Before Rory could answer, the doorbell rang. The race was on. Both Gilmores sprinted for the front door. Lorelei had a slight advantage. She had started closer to the door and had been in a standing position. It is far easier to run from a standing position then from the position of lying on one's back.
So, Lorelei was the first to the door. She already had it open as Rory skid to a halt beside her. Both the Gilmores excitement was obvious, Lorelei's at having won the race, and Rory's at the thought of who would be on the other side of the now open door. Some of both of the girls' excitement went to a lower notch of intensity, however, when Lane was revealed to be the ringer of the doorbell. Lane noticed the lessening of excitement.
"What?"
Lorelei opened the door so Lane could come in. "We raced. I won."
"Oh." Lane nodded remaining outside.
"Only because she had a head start."
"Oh please, we both heard the doorbell at the same time. There weren't two separate doorbell rings."
"But you were closer."
"Not that much closer."
Rory shook her head at her mother. "Why did you ring?"
Lane had been following the slight argument between mother and daughter. So, she wasn't prepared for the question. "What?"
"Why did you ring? You never ring. You don't have to. You just come in normally." Rory explained.
Lane shrugged. "It's a nice doorbell."
Both of the Gilmore girls raised their eyebrows at the comment. "Are you okay?" Rory questioned her best friend, who wasn't behaving at all like her usual self.
"Yeah, I'm fine. My mom's just been driving me crazy. Plus, we promised to hang out together this break. I was just going to make honest people out of both of us."
Rory looked pained. Lorelei walked into the living room, to give her daughter the privacy to let her best friend down slowly.
Lane noticed the pained look and the sudden absence of Lorelei. She put on a resigned face. "What?"
"Well, it's just…you know Tristan is coming over."
Lane's resigned face was replaced with an excited one. "Wait! He's coming over like now. Oh my God! I'll leave you alone then."
Rory rolled her eyes. "It's just to work on a project. He really needs the credit." Rory told her best friend and herself for like the hundredth time.
Lorelei, who was listening from 3 feet behind Rory and visible to Lane, exchanged an "oh please" look with Rory's best friend.
"Right." Lane said, turning to go. "I'll see you later. Tell me how that project goes." Lane turned suddenly back to Rory. "Oh, and don't forget. Wednesday night."
Rory had forgotten. What was happening Wednesday night? Lane could obviously tell by Rory's expression that she had forgotten. But as any good best friend, Lane forgave Rory for her forgetfulness and gave her a hint. "Three-way call with Henry."
Comprehension passed over Rory's face. "Right. Seven o'clock. I got it. See you soon."
Lane smiled and returned to walking back towards her house. Before Rory could close the door though, Tristan pulled up in his silver sports car. In less than a minute he was at the front door. "Did I see Lane leaving?"
Rory stepped back, allowing Tristan to enter the house. "Yep. She just finished reminding me of something."
"Reminding you of what?" Tristan asked playfully.
"Nothing much. Just our evil plan to undermine Mrs. Kim's authority so Lane can talk to her beloved, acceptable-to-parents-but-still-secret, boyfriend, Henry."
Tristan smiled and went into the living room. Rory knew he and Henry had become, as far as she could tell, pretty good friends. Or they could have been friends before, but she had just never really noticed. Rory shook her head before her thoughts went too far off track and closed the front door.
~
Today, the for once enjoyable Sunday, Tristan and Rory were beginning work on the actual Hell proper. The first level was for those who had lusted in their lives. Tristan was painting swirls of wind onto the wooden frame. Rory had praised him for actually using a paintbrush this time. Tristan had commented about how Rory wounded him. He then stated, "After all, this is what the brush is for. I certainly don't want to waste it."
"Hmm." Had been Rory's response. She was working on putting a small dress she had made on Francesca; formerly one of the little green army men. Being pink suited the soon to be her.
Tristan paused from his painting to watch Rory. "You know, in most portrayals, the people in the whirlwind are actually naked."
Rory blushed. For the most part she had learned to control her blushing tendency, at least in front of Tristan. She would reprimand herself for letting this one get by later. "Let me have my illusion. Besides, this way the observer will be able to tell which one are the women. Not like there were any women with the guys you brought."
Tristan spoke as though he was addressing a three year old. "I'm sorry, but the toy company didn't make girl soldiers when I bought the toys."
Rory gave a little glare in his direction. "Well, they should. I still don't think they make girl soldiers." Rory thought for a second. "Not that I've actually looked." Rory refocused. "But by buying only male soldiers you reinforced the company's assumption that the consumer wants only male soldiers."
Tristan couldn't stop his eyes from rolling. "I'm sorry. I was, like, four years old. I just wanted the soldiers to play with. In the future, I'll try to be more careful of the impression I give toy companies. But you know, if it really upsets you, you can write a letter." Tristan went back to his wind painting.
"Well, I'm just saying, it will give children the impression that girls can't be sold-"
"Write a letter."
Rory got the impression Tristan didn't want to talk about thousands of girls across the country who could be assuming, because there were no little green girl soldiers; there could be no real, normal-colored, women soldiers. Rory began attaching strings to all the pink former-soldiers she had just dressed.
Lorelei entered the living room from the kitchen. "Hey, I feel like eating some of that, you know, real food; that is so rarely here. Do you guys want me to get you anything from Luke's?"
Rory glanced at Tristan; he did a nonchalant head-shaking thing. Rory looked back to her mom. "No thanks, we're good."
Tristan finished painting. "There. Our wind will be dry in a few minutes." He began to clean off the paintbrush on some newspaper, but soon went into the kitchen to use water. "So, do you think it would be kind of fun to be stuck in a whirlwind for all eternity?" He questioned.
Rory took a few seconds to think about how to answer. "No. I mean, it could be fun for like five minutes, and then I think I'd start to get sick. After all, it is a punishment in Hell for those who spent their lives lusting. I don't think it's meant to be fun."
"You have a point there." Tristan said reentering the living room. He sat in front of the frame, examining the work they had done so far.
Rory soon joined him with the tied, clothed, pink people ready to be tacked up into their whirlwind. Together they began going about this arduous task. It was hard because the string and tacks were so small. Rory actually began to wish she had smaller fingers.
"So, do you think lust can turn to love?"
Tristan's question surprised Rory. She looked at him beside her. He seemed to be concentrating on getting a tack to stay in the wood. His arms and shoulders moved with the effort. Rory could tell, since they were sitting on their knees shoulder to shoulder.
Rory did a brief moment of her sigh therapy, while she tried to think of her answer. "I don't know." She finally answered truthfully.
"I think it can." Tristan replied rather quietly. Rory looked at him again. He seemed to be concentrating on his work, staring forward into the model.
"Why do you ask?" Rory used a nonchalant tone of voice.
Rory could feel Tristan shrug next to her. "Just curious." He used the same nonchalant tone. Rory found it to be very hard to interpret for underlying emotions.
~
After attaching all the strung people to the ceiling of their destined level of hell, the teens called it a night. "Until tomorrow." Tristan said giving a mock bow.
Rory watched him leave, confused as ever by his earlier behavior.
~
Adios for now. Prepare for "Lane, P.J. Harvey, and Heads Falling Off…AGAIN."