Hi all! Sorry for the late update, but this is my longest chapter yet, so hopefully that makes up for it! Also, sorry for the very long author's note. Feel free to skip it if you want, but it contains some (minorly) important info.
A few things:
1. I'm not sure how I missed this, but I majorly screwed up the days in the beginning of the story (Jess is supposed to arrive on Friday night, aka the only day the bus runs, so Lorelai should be rescuing him on Saturday morning, but apparently it's actually Friday because Rory is in school during the day, and the next day is Saturday…yeah, it's a mess) so I'll be going back and tweaking the days a bit to fit with whatever time frame I decide to smash it into.
2. I've been considering writing part of an upcoming chapter from the perspective of someone(s) in Stars Hollow (most likely Luke and/or Lane). This wouldn't be a common occurrence, but let me know if it's something that would interest you!
3. I know it's been a while between updates. I'm a slow and meticulous writer, even more so now that I know it won't be just me reading this, and school is always getting in the way. (The quarter system is basically like getting shoved onto a speeding treadmill: if you don't start at a run, you're already falling behind. Yes. It's awesome.) I just wanted to let you all know that I am 100% determined to finish this story. I have a general outline in my head and a more specific outline in the works for upcoming chapters.
4. I went back and named my chapters! Yay!
5. I'm afraid my character development is a little wishy-washy—I keep writing these mushy literati scenes before realizing that Jess and Rory have literally known each other for less than a week and are still supposed to be kinda not okay, and then I have to create convincing reasons why Jess and Rory aren't together, and I feel like their internal dialogue is getting repetitive. This might just be me feeling self-conscious about my writing…not sure. Suggestions and/or constructive criticism appreciated!
6. If anybody has ideas that they'd like included in the story, please review/message me! Fall/winter tend to be my favorite months, and I'm at a loss of what kinds of summery things should be happening in Celestial Cove since my brain is in Christmas mode.
7. I'm looking into a beta, but I'm not exactly sure how that works…I feel weird sending my chapters into the hands of a stranger, so if any of you have suggestions, suggest away!
8. This chapter has been posted in two parts because for some stupid, idiotic reason, fanfiction isn't letting me save the entire chapter as one. I'd really rather have it all in one chapter, so I'll try to figure out a way to condense it later, but I've been trying to figure this out for almost five hours, and I'm thoroughly sick of it.
Review as you see fit :)
xx poodles
Chapter Six: Guilt and Chanel No. 5
"I still can't believe that absolute babe is living in your dad's room, and you didn't even think to tell me." Sara flung her brown paper bag onto the cold cement table, closely followed by a thick stack of textbooks, before sliding onto the bench across from Rory.
This was at least the third time Sara had uttered that exact sentence since meeting Jess earlier in the week, and it still didn't strike Rory as any less odd. Christopher hadn't used the room for a few years, and, yes, Jess was a temporary occupant, but hearing it almost didn't make sense. Her mother—her protective, strictly anti-men-in-the-house mother—had allowed a stranger to stay with them at the drop of a hat. And Rory thought he had flirted with her. And she was pretty sure she had flirted back. (Or something.)
Rory took a calm bite of her pizza, primly swiping at stray wisp of cheese that clung to her chin. "Careful, you'll break your Doritos."
Sara groaned. "Please. My mother discovered that little habit, and she's back to packing my lunches. It's fat-free hummus and celery for me today: a thoroughly unbreakable meal."
"I'm sure we could do something about that celery," Rory mused. "Smush it with a textbook?"
"Grind it under our heels?" Sara suggested.
Rory pushed an extra plate in her friend's direction. "Good thing I grabbed you a slice. Don't you love me?"
Sara's hazel eyes lit up. "I can just hear it. 'That cheese will go straight to your ass, Sara Marguerite Madison.' Newsflash, Mother, some girls want an ass." After a few ravenous bites, Sara returned to her original subject. "So, Jess?"
Rory sighed. "How many times do we need to go over this?"
"However many times it takes for you to tell me the truth," Sara insisted.
"I thought you needed help studying," Rory pointed out helplessly.
"Rory Gilmore, when have you ever known me to be unprepared?"
It was true. Though Sara could care less about the prestige of an Ivy League and never missed an opportunity to shove rebellion in her mother's face, she meticulously completed assignments and rivaled Rory's ability to store information. If Sara had a test in the latter portion of the school day, there would be no cram sessions at lunch.
"Besides," Sara continued, "my final was this morning."
"Then why are we over here instead of there?" Rory gestured to their usual spot on the grassy knoll.
The group spanned a good quarter of the area, some sitting cross-legged, others stretched out on their stomachs or backs. A few of the girls rested their heads in their boyfriends' laps, or vice versa. If Rory had been over there, she'd be in that exact position; Sean would be holding a plate of food in one hand, probably offering her a bite with the other.
He meant well, but the whole experience was uncomfortable. A spot on the knoll was somewhat of a status symbol, and, sometimes, it felt like too much affection for a place as public as that. She had never fully grown accustomed to being around all of Sean's friends; only a few of the girls had deigned to talk to her over the years, and the boys simply teased and left her tongue-tied. Perhaps it was because they didn't live in the same town; Oakhurst Prep was fifteen minutes inland, in the wealthier town of Cambria, and she rarely even saw them outside of school. Whatever the reason, she relied solely on Sara or whichever novel she'd packed for the day.
Usually, Rory would be happy to eat lunch in a more private place. But after the night of studying with Jess and her slightly risky decision to slip Catcher in the Rye in his room, her heart had been fluttering unsteadily. For two years, she hadn't so much as glanced at another boy. Sean had accepted her as his future, and it had given her a sense of peace, knowing that, if everything else was changing, at least she could count on his presence. My heart belongs to you, he would say, and she would repeat his words.
But something about Jess's sharp nature—because his words, his wit, his features, his edges, everything about him was razor sharp—had caught her attention and, against her will, what she feared was her heart. She hoped all she needed to remedy that was an afternoon in Sean's arms. It would be familiar, it would be safe…it would be the perfect reminder of where she belonged.
"Be-cause," Sara said, enunciating syllables as if Rory was the densest person she knew, "I wanted to talk to you about Jess. A-lone."
"Mom rescued him from Dora on Friday morning," Rory recounted in a bored tone. "He's living with us and helping with home repairs. He hates Sean, he's from New York, he came from Venice, he's working for your grandpa, we don't know why he's here. That's all I know."
"That's all you know?" Sara teased.
"What else do you want to hear?" Rory exclaimed. "That he's obnoxious? Rude? Infuriating?"
"Um, how about gorgeous?" Sara added.
Rory said nothing.
"Oh, come on," Sara prodded. "Only a blind person wouldn't notice! Except, they would, because they'd hear him talk, and god! The boy's voice practically oozes sex. How could you not have noticed?" A blush rose to Rory's cheeks, and a pleased grin overtook Sara's face. "You have noticed."
"Fine," Rory conceded quietly. "He helped me study for my Econ final last night, and he's…not all bad."
"Not all bad?" Sara repeated.
"He's smart," Rory admitted. "And…he reads. A lot, I think."
"He talked to you?"
"Not since last night."
"Will he?"
"Probably not," Rory replied casually. But, traitorously, she hoped he would. She wanted him to. Her mind turned to the copy of Catcher that she'd slipped to him before leaving for school. He'd be at work by now; he'd have found the book already. Would he leave it there? Would he return it to her room without reading, a subtle rejection? Or would he keep it for his back pocket, the place his chosen books inhabited?
"What about Sean?"
"What about Sean?"
"Why are you perfectly content to be over here, with your lying best friend, instead of over there, with the professed love of your life? Why are we talking about Jess instead of Sean? Why do you blush every time I mention Jess, but change the subject when Sean comes up in conversation?"
"You're the one who wanted to talk about Jess!" Rory protested.
The two friends stared at each other for a beat.
"You're not in love with him anymore," Sara said softly.
"I'm just not sure," Rory whispered. "Maybe I never was." She groaned. "What's wrong with me? He's perfect, absolutely perfect. He's nice, he's loyal, he knows me, he's one of my best friends, people like him…my mother likes him, and you know how she is when it comes to boys!"
"Just so you know, that description could also fit Fido, your friendly golden retriever."
"I don't have a golden retriever," Rory objected. "Mom can't even keep a hamster alive. It's a miracle I survived long enough to feed myself."
"Oh, Rory, you know what I mean! You described him with as much passion as you'd describe your brother. And I know, I know—you don't have a brother either. But if you don't love him, if there's no more passion…you're only eighteen. It's okay to change your mind."
"I'm just…not sure," she repeated helplessly. "Everything feels so…muddled."
"The last thing I want to do is pressure you, and I want you to know I'm on your side, I'm in your corner, you've got me. But you can't drag this out forever, you know?"
Rory nodded grimly. "Before the end of the summer, at least."
The bell rang, and the girls gathered their respective belongings.
"See you after school?" Rory asked.
Sara smirked. "I'm out."
Rory rolled her eyes, slightly scandalized but unsurprised. "What about your classes?"
"Relax, Mom," she mocked amicably. "I had all my important ones before lunch. Tomorrow, Thelma?"
"Deal, Louise."
Jess grabbed Rory's book before leaving for work, against his better judgment. Then again, he seemed to do everything against his better judgment recently—namely, engage in conversations with Rory. His fascination with Lorelai's daughter needed to end, and he needed to end all actions that would fuel it.
Obviously, nothing could happen between them; if he overlooked Lorelai's adamant requests for them to stay apart, Sean still stood in the way, and, even then, there was no guarantee Rory felt the same attraction. After their encounter the previous evening, he knew with absolute certainty that he couldn't get any closer to her. What she wouldn't understand and what he wouldn't even know how to explain: he couldn't be friends with her. The instant spark he'd felt as soon as they met, the bantering and bickering, the fierce attraction…it would only intensify as they spent time together.
Hell, it was all he could do to keep from lunging across the kitchen table. The air of innocent elation that overtook her entire being when she answered a question correctly; the way her lips pursed and her brow furrowed as she attempted to recall a difficult response; the intense disgust evident in her pinched expression when she chewed a hot tamale. She was just so freaking irresistible and completely ignorant of her charm. What option did he have other than to leave? Staying would only hurt both of them. On the other hand, he didn't want to hand over her copy of Catcher in the Rye. (He'd read it before, of course; though not among his favorites, it was practically child's play, and he'd read it just fewer than a dozen times. There was just something so intimate about the idea of reading her favorite copy of a book—and, naturally, he was looking forward to leaving notes in the margins.)
He shoved through Lewis's door (a little more aggressively than necessary), enjoying the calm that came with entering a room packed with books.
"You're still here," Lewis observed candidly.
"It's only temporary," Jess reminded him.
The elderly man's eyes twinkled. "That's what they all say."
"Lewis," he insisted, "I'm serious. There's nothing here for me."
"Jess," Lewis said solemnly, "you listen here. Do you have a goal in mind?"
Jess squinted at his employer. "Uh – Seattle, I think."
"You think?"
"Seattle," Jess repeated more confidently.
Lewis set a gnarled hand on Jess's shoulder. "Son, just remember, it's one thing to run with an end in sight. But if you don't know what you're looking for, no place will ever measure up. Don't spend your whole life running."
The door chimed; a family of six entered, and Lewis rushed to their aid. His words, however, lingered in Jess's mind, and he ended up spinning the small rack of California-themed postcards at the front counter. He plucked a vibrant Pacific Ocean sunset and stuck it in his pocket. It wouldn't kill him to let someone in Stars Hollow know he was still alive.
On his next break, he sat behind the register with a pencil and the postcard. Dear Lane, he began, before flipping the pencil upside down and furiously attacking the two words with the eraser. "Dear Lane?" he repeated aloud. "Are you losing your mind?"
"All signs point to yes," an eerie voice said.
He looked around, and Sara popped up from behind the counter. He physically refrained from jumping.
"What the hell?"
Sara greeted him with an enthusiastic wave and a voice that had returned to its normal tone. "Hey there!"
"Are you spying on me?"
"Who's Lane?"
"Absolutely none of your business," he replied definitively.
"It's a girl."
"It's not a girl!"
"You're gay, then?"
"Absolutely flaming," Jess deadpanned. When Sara regarded him with a little too much interest for someone who'd caught on to his intended sarcasm, he scowled. "No."
"I don't know any straight guys who write another guy a letter that starts with 'Dear.'"
He sighed. There was no way he was getting out of this one completely unscathed. "Lane is…female."
"Did you miss the day in school when they taught genders? Usually, a girl is female."
He rubbed his forehead in an attempt to stave off the inevitable headache that'd begun to appear whenever Sara did. "I need to get back to work."
"You're avoiding my question."
"It's what I do best." He stepped around her, grabbing a book that had been recently returned.
"I'll find out sooner or later!" she called to his retreating back.
"The later, the better," he retorted.
That girl would be the death of him.
Instead of sitting through the last twenty minutes of her literature class, Rory found herself sitting on an uncomfortable plastic chair in the purgatory-like space between the nurse and headmaster's office. After receiving a summons, she'd been waiting anxiously for five minutes that had felt more like ten years
The secretary's scratchy voice broke through her concentrated worrying. "Rory Gilmore? Headmaster Darving will see you now."
She stood, gathering her things, and pushed open the heavy oak doors.
"Please, have a seat," Headmaster Darving greeted from behind his desk.
The interior of the office looked no less intimidating than it had on her first day of school, and she sat, nervously twisting her hands in her lap.
"Ms. Gilmore," he droned, "as you may recall, we had a similar meeting earlier in the semester."
Rory nodded, though their previous meeting had almost completely slipped her mind until receiving the summons. It had been at the beginning of January with four other students, all candidates for the high school's valedictorian. Rory—knowing the more she hoped for the position, the more she'd stress—had pushed the encounter to the back of her memory, burying it beneath schoolwork, schoolwork, and more schoolwork. Besides, did she really want to write a speech and deliver it to the entire school and their families? Not particularly. However, now that the purpose of this meeting had been made clear, her heart pounded and her hands grew clammy. This was it.
"It has recently come to my attention that your class is graduating," he continued, then paused. When Rory offered no reaction, he added, "That was a joke."
"Oh, of course," she replied, a bit startled (she didn't think it was funny, she was trying not to pass out from nerves), and forced a chuckle.
Seemingly appeased, the elder gentleman carried on. "I believe it is high time I let the five of you in on the results, and who better to start with than our highest achieving student? Congratulations, Rory Gilmore—you are this year's valedictorian."
The rest of the meeting passed in a blur. He went into specifics—her GPA, her academic standing, the order of the speeches at graduation—but shock had rendered her nearly speechless, and, other than thanking him at the conclusion of the meeting, she didn't speak until running into Sean in the hallway.
"Hey, babe!"
"Sean!" Rory gasped breathlessly. "Are you busy right now?"
"Not…exactly?" he replied.
"Can you give me a ride to the inn?" she asked.
He grinned—it wasn't every day that Rory asked for help. "Anything for you."
She inwardly cringed at his cheesiness, feeling a sickening pang of guilt for her conversation with Sara earlier, but smiled in return. "Thanks, Sean. You're the best." She stood on her tiptoes to plant a quick kiss on his cheek.
He reached for her hand, and their fingers twined together as they walked to his car. He walked her to the passenger side; instead of opening the door, he leaned her up against the side of the car and leaned in. Their lips met, and it was soft at first, sweet, her lips brushing against his. He deepened the kiss, dove in tongue-first, and she jerked her head back, bumping the car window in the process.
"Ouch," she muttered.
"Is something wrong?" he asked.
"What?"
"You stopped kissing me."
"We're in the school parking lot," she exclaimed.
"So?"
"What do you mean, so? Anyone could see!"
"Ror, I'm pretty sure it's no secret we're together."
"But still—teachers, freshman, the headmaster, the secretaries can all see. Do you really want to be making out in front of all of them?"
"What's wrong with that?"
"It's inappropriate," Rory hissed.
Sean chuckled as she climbed into the passenger seat and buckled herself in. "Okay, Grandma."
Rory shot him a half-hearted glare. "Sean, I'm serious."
He shrugged, letting the argument go, and walked to his side of the car. Once they'd pulled out of the school's driveway, he spoke once more. "Is there an emergency at the inn?"
"No, I just really need to talk to Mom."
The Independence Inn was ten minutes from the school and five minutes from Celestial Cove, in a small town right off Highway 101. Rory silently sent thanks above for the location's convenience in situations such as these.
"What about?"
Rory grinned in spite of herself. "I want her to be the first to know, but you can stick around for the news."
Sean shot her a quick, inquisitive glance. "What news?"
"I can't tell you, silly!" She reached over and hit the radio dial. Electronic noises blasted through his radio speakers; it was the kind of music she hated, but it wasn't worth another fight. It wasn't worth another argument, not when they had just been smiling, not when they were going to be graduating soon, not when she was going to be valedictorian. This was supposed to be a happy time, and so she shut up and turned up the song and dealt with the music.
When Sean pulled up in front of the Inn, Rory practically fell out of the car onto the vast dirt parking lot, scrambling to the porch. Sean stared after her, mystified. "Rory, hold up!"
"I need to find Mom!" she called back.
She burst into the lobby. "Mom! Mom!"
"Slow down," Helga, the German receptionist, grouched.
Helga held a deep impatience for all people—ironic, considering her career—but channeled most of her irritation to those with smiles on their faces. Rory was fairly certain she had a sixth sense for bursting people's bubbles.
Lorelai emerged from the staircase, a concerned look upon her face. "Rory? Is something wrong?"
"I had a meeting with the headmaster today."
"You finally got in trouble?" Lorelai clapped her hands in anticipation. "I'm so proud, my little rebel! Spill! Tell Mommy what you did wrong!"
Rory smiled. "I – um – got perfect grades? Mom, he called me in to tell me I'm going to be the valedictorian!"
"Oh my god, oh my god!" Lorelai screeched, gripping Rory in a tight embrace. They jumped up and down in circles, while Sean looked on bemusedly. "That's amazing! You're the smartest person in school! You're going to give a speech! Can we celebrate?"
"Tonight," Rory promised. "I have some studying to do."
"Well, I'll see ya later, Val," Lorelai said giddily. "Get it? Val, for Valedictorian?"
"I get it, Mom," Rory laughed, leaning in for one last hug.
"By the way," Lorelai whispered in Rory's ear as she pulled away, "I hear Anne's hiring for the summer."
Rory smiled. A recent college graduate, Anne had moved to Celestial Cove about five years prior, opening a café named Sugar & Spice shortly afterwards. She was an excellent cook; Lorelai occasionally hired her to cater for the Inn, who regularly benefitted from her delicious breakfast pastries. Aside from being an excellent business contact, Anne also held throne as one of Rory's favorite people in town. Some might consider her height intimidating, but her kind face, framed by long brown hair and adorned with freckles, had instantly appealed to Rory. When she'd engaged in a deep conversation regarding the novel Rory had been carrying around that day, Rory was sold. If Sugar was hiring, Rory wanted to be there.
"Thanks, Mom," she murmured back.
"Ready to go, Rory?" Sean asked.
She beamed. "Yeah! Can you drop me off downtown, though? I have some errands to run."
"Sure, babe," he said cheerfully.
Sean dropped Rory off at the corner, between O'Grady Grocery and the Candy Shoppe. She made an immediate beeline for Sugar & Spice, the small, red-doored business nestled between a flower shop and a fancier restaurant.
A bell tinkled as she pushed the door open. Inside, a low counter lined the wide windows that opened out toward the street, allowing people to enjoy the indoors with the outdoor breeze. Small tables seating four were arranged throughout the room, save for a clear path from the door to the register. Bitter wafts of coffee mingled with the unmistakable scent of fried foods. Rory inhaled deeply, her features relaxing into a contented expression. This smell had fueled many study sessions, facilitated countless reading comas, and accompanied numerous mother-daughter dates. For Rory, the smell was comfort.
"Rory!" Anne exclaimed, green eyes twinkling. "This is an unexpected surprise."
Rory smiled shyly and waved in response.
"What can I help you with?" she asked as Rory approached the counter.
"You had a 'Help Wanted' sign in your window," Rory began, "and I'm looking for a summer job."
"That's great! I'll need to ask you for a résumé, but it's mostly as a formality. We all know you're reliable and responsible, and no one else has looked into it yet! Go home, think it over tonight, and if you want it, it's yours!"
A weight lifted from Rory's chest. "Thank you so much, Anne! I'll bring my résumé by tomorrow after school."
She turned to go, mentally checking off another task from her virtual to-do list, when she nearly tripped over someone entering the café. To her surprise, when she looked up, it was Jess. A wave of awkwardness hit her like the Great Wall of China; she hadn't spoken to him since their impromptu study session the night before, and she wasn't sure how to act.
"Oh!" Rory exclaimed.
Jess nodded.
"What are you doing here?"
He squinted inquisitively. "Getting food…"
"I just thought you'd be working right now," Rory said.
Jess shrugged. "I'm on break."
Rory nodded. "I, uh, can see that."
"I was hungry."
"Food is important."
"Lewis said this place is good."
"It is."
"That's good."
The stilted conversation cemented Rory's feet into the floor, and, though they'd obviously exhausted all topics of conversation, and Jess clearly needed to get around her, she couldn't move a centimeter.
"Do you need something, or can I order now?" Jess finally asked.
He was losing patience; Rory blurted the first thing that popped into her brain. "My Econ final was today."
"And?" Jess replied.
"You helped…a lot."
"Glad to hear it," he said, and his words were kind, but his tone was off. Rory heard indifference with a hint of sarcasm, and it unsettled her.
"I guess I'll see you at home," she said, trying to extend a veiled olive branch.
"I guess you will," was his only response, and the branch fell flat on the ground between them.
(End of Part One)
