***Comprehension***
May
Lorelai tugged on her sweater as she walked into school. It was getting awfully tight, and kept riding up above her waist. She didn't think that wearing it as a crop-top, exposing her belly for the whole world to see would be acceptable. So, instead, she had to keep pulling it down at what seemed to be 30 second intervals. She was concentrating so much on her clothing, she walked through the double doors without noticing the huge banner gracing the front of the building.
As she entered, however, she stopped short. The hubbub in the halls was overwhelming. She had forgotten that this was going on. How, she wasn't sure – there had been posters up for weeks.
A flyer was thrust into her hands by a passing student. Knowing what it was going to say, she was loathe to read it, but after a small amount of hesitation she looked down at the paper in her hands.
'Deerfield Academy
Bi-annual College Fair
Main Foyer
All day Friday
Essential information for Sophomores and Juniors'
"Great," she muttered, rolling the flyer into a ball and throwing it in the direction of the trashcan, not bothering to check if it actually made it in.
The grand foyer and adjoining halls were packed with booths from all the best colleges. The Ivy Leagues got pride of place in the middle under the great ornamental clock. Surrounding them were the other more prestigious New England schools. Further out were some of the better schools from the rest of the country – Stanford, Duke, Berkeley and the like. And trailing down the halls were the state schools – the places Deerfield parents would never send their offspring.
Lorelai continued to stay frozen to the spot, unsure what to do. All her classes for the day were on the other side of this event. The last time this thing was on, she was excited about it – seeing the pretty brochures, dreaming about going to college, chatting animatedly with her friends about where they wanted to go. This time, she knew that she wouldn't be going, and that thought kept chanting in her head. She didn't want to have to walk past all these booths, having the ever-so-happy attendants call out to her, asking her questions about where she planned to go.
Knowing there was no other way, she squared her shoulders, and took a deep breath. Looking only straight ahead, she walked quickly through the throng of people. She was almost halfway there when she felt a whoosh of air going past her, a heavy shoulder bump, and within a second she found herself on the floor, staring at sets of feet as they walked past. Several of her books had fallen out of her bag, and she quickly gathered them back up. She reached out to the closest table to pull herself upright again. Her heart sank when she lifted her head, and was confronted with a sign screaming 'Vassar'.
She looked down at the table, which held shiny new brochures – much prettier than the one which was right now still sitting in a sparkly box under her bed. She ran her fingers over each one carefully. The paper felt so new in comparison to her worn copy.
She was dragged out of her reverie when an overly cheery voice chirped out "Hey. Considering Vassar? You'll love it there."
Lorelai stared at the blonde girl. "Yes. I know I would have," she blurted out, and quickly turned and ran out the way she came, leaving a very confused girl in her wake.
She ran away from the school until she was out of breath, which wasn't very far. As she slumped down on the sidewalk, her back against the wall of a church, she could still see the tops of the imposing iron gates that she walked through every morning. As she filled her lungs with air, she shook her head slowly.
"Idiot," she chastised herself. "If that wasn't an over-reaction, I don't know what is. Stupid hormones." After she regained her normal breathing patterns, she started to giggle. "Probably scared that poor girl half to death!"
After a few minutes, she stood up and started wandering aimlessly, not wanting to go back to school. As she passed a group of small stores, a delicious smell drew her towards a little coffee shop, set back from the road. She forced her way through the door, as if hypnotized, and came to a stop at the counter, where she took a seat on a stool.
An older man approaches her, order pad in his hand. He looks at her uniform and raises his eyebrows.
"Running a bit late, are we?" he comments, but she just gives a small shrug and doesn't meet his gaze. He tries another tack. "Get you anything?"
"Coffee. In a vat," she answers without looking up.
He pours her a large cup, and sets the pot down next to her, wandering away to deal with another customer.
She took a large gulp, and felt the soothing liquid quickly start to course through her veins. She looked down at her stilled hands – she hadn't realized that they had been shaking so badly until they stopped. She took a cleansing breath before finishing the cup in one more gulp. She poured herself another cup, and when she looked up, she found the man standing in front of her again.
"Doesn't Deerfield start at 8:15?" he asked her.
"Yip," she answered, sipping her coffee. She felt comfortable with him, so decided it was okay to talk. "But I'm already late, so there's no point in going to Bio."
He nodded. "You going to your next class, or stay here drinking all my coffee?" he asked her, leaning against the counter.
She shrugged. "Yeah, I'll go later. 'cept my next class is supposed to be gym, and I'm not allowed to do that anymore. So I'll go to third period probably. Only got four more weeks before I'm outta that place, so better get me some o' that learning." It felt nice to talk to someone.
"You don't look old enough to be a senior," he commented, looking at her face carefully.
"I'm not." She looked around the coffee shop, and saw there was only one old couple in the far corner. "Sophomore. Got myself in a bit of a situation." She stood up and turned side on to him, so he could see the small bump.
He looked down at the counter. "Oh. Sorry."
"Nah, don't sweat it."
"So, Sophomore… got a name?"
If he had been thirty years younger, she would have thought he was going to hit on her, but somehow she just had a feeling that he was just a nice guy. "Yeah, I got one."
He raised one eyebrow at her.
"Lorelai," she told him.
He considered this for a second. "Pretty." Then he wandered away to greet some more customers.
Lorelai pulled a book out of her bag, and began to read, sipping at her coffee intermittently.
"What you reading?" he asked as he returned to the counter.
She turned the cover towards him. "The Fountainhead," she told him. "It's for school."
He chuckled. "Yip. That sounds about right."
Lorelai rolled her eyes. "Yeah. I'm not sure how I feel about it, really."
He nodded, seeing something in her eyes that was different to the other Deerfield kids who came in here.
Lorelai sighed after looking at the clock. "I suppose I better go back to school. I can't miss English, and that starts in 15 minutes."
"Sure." Lorelai pulled out her purse to pay, but he waved her off. "Don't worry about it. Just make sure you come back again."
"I will," she assured him, heading towards the door.
She forced herself to walk back to school, and when she arrived back in the foyer, she sped up, almost to the point of running, past the stupid college stalls. At least this time, with second period still in session, the halls were empty – so there was no one to hinder her speedy getaway.
Lorelai lay on the couch drinking a coke as she listened to her parents getting ready for a party. It was yet another event that she would have been invited to, had she not been pregnant.
"No, Richard. The blue is not appropriate."
"Why on earth not, Emily?"
"Because it clashes with my dress," Emily sighed.
"Oh, I'm awfully sorry. I didn't know that we were supposed to dress like the Bobsy Twins."
"For God's sake, Richard. Just put on the black, and let's go and get this over with." Emily came storming down the stairs. She walked over to where Lorelai was sitting.
"Is your homework done, Lorelai? You know that if you don't put the work in, you'll never get through these extra courses that teacher of yours wants you to take."
"Yes, mother. It's done."
"I still don't know why they insist on you taking those extra courses, since you've ruined your chance at college anyway," Emily muttered. "You'll just be marrying Christopher anyway." She started primping in the hall mirror.
"Except that I don't want to marry Chris," Lorelai retorted, but Emily was too engrossed in her own reflection to hear her.
"Now, we won't be too long, so don't think you can get away with having a party. We'll just be making a perfunctory appearance – that's it." She made a look which Lorelai knew meant she really didn't want to go, but was just doing it out of obligation.
As Emily turned away, Lorelai froze, her eyes wide. That was it. That was the look that Christopher kept giving her, pretty much ever since she had told him she was pregnant. It was obligation.
"Why did I not see it before?" she whispered to herself.
It made sense to her. The world they grew up in was one filled with obligation. She knew it well, that feeling that you were being forced to do things you didn't necessarily want to do. Normally, she and Chris would be wracking their brains to get out of them. She wondered if he was going to keep giving in to the obligation that had been so heavily ingrained, or if he would run away. She wasn't sure which was worse.
