Rory picked up her phone and dialed Paris's mom's cell phone number slowly. Maybe if she just told her mom where Paris was she would get the police to go get her. After what seemed like hours Eliza Gellar sleepily answered the phone.

"Hello?" Eliza answered, sounding slightly annoyed at being woken up.

"Mrs. Gellar?" Rory began, "this is Rory Gilmore. I just got a phone call from Paris and I know where she is."

"So do I," Eliza answered, more annoyance noticable in her voice, "she's out somewhere trying to convince everyone she's been kidnapped."

"She has been," Rory responded, a shocked expression coming on her face at the lack of Paris's mom's concern, "aren't you worried?" Rory heard Eliza's loud sigh on the other end of the line.

"Fine, Miss Gilmore. Where is she?" Eliza asked crankily.

"She's at a ski lodge up north called South Ridge," Rory responded and then waited patiently while Eliza pretended to write down the name of the lodge.

"Alright. I'll call the police right away," Eliza stated before hanging up the phone.


Paris lay on her stomach on the queen size bed in the room watching some rerun of a reality show on the television when there was a knock at the door. Tristan stood up from the stool he had been sitting on at the bar to go answer the door. Jess pushed past Tristan and glanced around the room. His eyes stopped on Paris.

"What is she doing here, Tristan?" Jess asked, annoyance clear in his voice. Paris glared up at him.

"I'm keeping him out of trouble," Paris replied, glancing quickly at Tristan.

"Apparently your not doing a very good job," Jess answered, returning her glare before glancing back toward Tristan, "You were supposed to just drop her off somewhere and get the car back."

"The car was on the news," Tristan replied as he walked back over to the stool beside the bar.

"That's what happens when they get stolen" Jess answered.

"They would have found me," Tristan stated, "she saw my face." Jess looked back over at Paris and sighed. He didn't like it. Even if Tristan did have a point.

"So what are you going to do about her?" Jess asked.

"Give her car back to her and send her home," Tristan responded matter-of-factly.

"We can't do that!" Jess answered, "we'll never find another car just like it in time."

"Not my problem," Paris responded. Jess shot her another glare.

"Would you shut up?" Jess asked her. Paris smirked at the television but kept her mouth shut for the rest of the conversation.


Tristan took a big drink out of the bottle of vodka he was holding and passed it back to Paris.

"You shouldn't bother Jess so much" Tristan stated, "he's just worried, for good reason."

"He's such a jerk" Paris responded, "what's so important about my car anyway?" Tristan grabbed the vodka back and took a long drink.

"Let's just say the guy who was going to buy the car isn't someone you want to make mad" Tristan responded.

"Oh, that kind of person" Paris responded. Tristan watched her for a minute as she stared at the television.

"So, why did you lock yourself in the trunk?" Tristan asked.

"It's kind of personal" Paris said, not wanting to tell Tristan her real reason.

"It's okay" Tristan responding, glancing at the empty liquor bottles all over the floor, "I probably wouldn't remember it anyway." Paris glanced down at the floor and laughed.

"I guess your right" Paris replied, "I don't get along with my mom. She's a very stuck up rich woman. My father is the kind of guy who sends money so he doesn't have to see me."

"I'm sorry" Tristan responded, "but why leave?"

"I guess I just wanted a little proof" Paris said, "you know, that they love me."

"Think your going to get it?" he asked.

"No, I'm pretty sure I won't." Paris responded, reaching over and taking the vodka bottle out of his hands.

"Are you always a big drinker?" Tristan asked, smiling at her.

"Only when I'm depressed " Paris said, "so yeah." Tristan laughed as she took another long drink from the bottle.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" Tristan asked, glancing over at her.

"No" Paris responded, "do you have a girlfriend?"

"I've never really had time for that" Tristan responded, taking the vodka bottle out of Paris's hand and sitting it on the bedside table, "would you get mad if I kissed you?" Paris glanced down at her hands quickly. Not sure if she wanted him to or not.

"I don't know" she responded slowly. Tristan reached over and slipped his fingertips under her chin to make her look at him.

"I wouldn't think anything could make you blush" he replied before pressing his lips against hers. Tristan slowly began to lower her back on the bed and Paris found herself returning his kiss. They were both breathless when Tristan pulled back a little and removed his shirt. Paris let her eyes move to his arms and then over his chest and stomach. Tristan smiled and leaned down over her to kiss her again. Paris closed her eyes as he kissed her deeper. At that moment she felt more cared about than she had ever felt before.


Alright. There's the next chapter. Hope ya'll like it.