A/N: I hope you all enjoy this!

Chapter Ten

Rory walked through campus, her bag feeling unusually heavy on her shoulder. She probably was just imagining it. She had the same collection of textbooks and notebooks in the bag, but now there was also the paper she'd just gotten back from Comparative Lit, and that paper was enough to weigh anyone down with all the comments and the large C on top, circled in red as if she'd miss the grade without it. She'd never gotten a C before. It was easy going at Stars Hollow High and then besides the small hiccup in Mr. Medina's sophomore English class, she'd gotten nothing but high marks.

She felt even more foolish since she'd gone to Professor Kaplan's office under the guise of asking some clarifying questions about the day's material. He, of course, saw right through it and pulled out her paper from the files. She'd been so convinced that glowing remarks awaited her. Visions of "Wonderful job" and "This is the most well thought out freshman paper I've received" floated through her head, promptly cut short by the glaring mediocrity of that C emblazoned at the top of the paper. And then, as if the grade was not enough, he suggested that she had taken on too much with her course load. She tried to tell him that her grandfather had taken the same course load his freshman year and that he handled it just fine, and then he said, "Well, you're not your grandfather, Rory. Everyone works differently. What worked for him might not work for you."

He had been nice, really he had. But all she could take out of those few words was that she wasn't good enough. She'd taken a sort of pride in following in Richard's footsteps. The Gilmores continuing to blaze a trail of academic prowess through Yale's hallowed halls. Except now she wasn't doing that. Instead she was getting C's on papers.

Rory didn't know how long she spent commiserating over those few moments in Kaplan's office when Logan joined her. He took in her distracted gaze and said, "What's going on?"

"Nothing," she said, hoisting her bag up higher on her shoulder. She was half tempted to reach in the bag and throw out that damn paper, but she knew she'd regret it later. There had to be something for her to learn from all the red scrawls. "It's just been a bad day."

"Made exponentially better with my presence, though, right?" Logan said leadingly, his smirk almost making her grin.

"Not even a private concert with U2 could make today better," Rory returned. "It's just a very, very sucky day."

"What happened?"

She hesitated, wondering if Logan would think she was overreacting. He didn't exactly take his own education seriously, and she was concerned he wouldn't understand her worry about the grade.

When she didn't answer he said, "Come on, Ace, what's going on?"

"I met with Professor Kaplan today," she began slowly. "He gave me my paper back and I didn't do well on it."

"That's it?"

She was going to tell him what else Kaplan told her, but his reaction made her clam up. She shook her head and said, "You know what, never mind."

Logan slipped his arm around her shoulders and squeezed her gently. "Ace, one bad grade is not going to kill you. And, if I know you, then this bad grade is probably just a B or something. You have nothing to worry about."

"Yeah, you're right," she said evasively. "It'll be fine. Everything will be fine."

She still wasn't herself and Logan paused before he said, "I know just the thing to perk you up."

"What's that?"

"This weekend some of the guys are throwing a party. You should come with me."

"In what world would going to a party perk me up?" she asked, glancing over at him.

"In this world, Ace. You need some airing out. After all that time studying in the library, what you need is some good old-fashioned fun. And that's what you'll get this weekend."

"So, it's like with Finn and Colin? Those guys?"

"Sort of," Logan said evasively.

"What do you mean sort of?"

"Look, it'll just be a good time. You trust me, right?"

Rory sighed and said, "Yes, I trust you."

"Then no more questions, Ace. Just be ready to go Saturday night at eight and I promise you, you will have a good time. And this stupid grade of yours will be the last thing on your mind."

Rory mentioned the shifty weekend plans to Paris that night and her roommate considered it for a moment before saying, "I wonder if it's a Life, Death and Brigade party."

"Life, Death and what?"

"Life, Death and Brigade," Paris repeated slowly. "You know, like Yale's version of Skull and Bones."

"A secret society?" Rory sputtered, laughing at the suggestion. "You think I'm going to a secret society's party?"

"It's not that ridiculous, Rory. There's definitive proof that it exists. Someone wrote a features article on it last year in the Yale Daily News. It was about the initiation event. The writer got themselves invited and did a whole anonymous thing on it. You know, no names, no location."

"Okay, but why do you just assume Logan's in it?"

"Because he's a legacy," Paris said simply.

"I'm a legacy. Why am I not in this secret club?"

"Okay, first off it's a secret society," Paris corrected sharply. "And I don't know why you're not in it. Maybe because the Gilmores skipped a generation. Or they thought you were too vanilla."

"I'm not…" Rory trailed off. "Alright, I see your point. But, Logan would have told me if he were in some secret society."

Paris narrowed her eyes and said, "Yeah, I don't know if you fully grasp the notion of a secret society. For starters, it's secret."

"Then how could he be taking me to one of its parties, huh?"

"Because that boy would do just about anything to make you happy," Paris said. "He saw you were upset and went with the first thing he could think of. Being Logan Huntzberger, that first thing was recreational drinking."

Rory sat down on the couch, wondering if she had somehow gotten herself invited to a secret society's weekend of recreational debauchery. The prospect made her want to go even less.

"You shouldn't worry so much about the grade, either. You can make it up later in the semester."

"I know," Rory said. Rationally she knew that was the case, but it was what Kaplan told her afterwards that bothered her more. She'd kept that part out of the story she relayed to Paris, just like she'd done with Logan. While she had kept it from Logan because she'd been annoyed with his reaction to her worrying about the paper, the reluctance to disclose grew more into embarrassment than anything else.

"You'll have to let me know how the party is," Paris said, walking into the bedroom. Over her shoulder she tossed off, "I hear they get pretty crazy."

That Saturday Rory spent a good part of the afternoon trying to decide what was appropriate attire for a party that may or may not be thrown by a secret society. She decided on a skirt and sweater, throwing on a pair of knee-high boots at the last minute when she thought of the cold winter air outside.

Logan was right on time, knocking on her door at exactly eight o'clock. He was wearing a lighter jacket than Rory thought was probably appropriate for the weather with his usual crewneck sweater peaking out of the unbuttoned collar of his jacket. He stepped forward and kissed her lightly.

"Are you excited, Ace?"

"I can barely contain it all," she joked, stepping back into the dorm.

"I know you're not a big partier, but you're going to have fun tonight," Logan promised her. "If it's the last thing I do tonight, Ace, you will have fun."

She slipped on her coat and grabbed her purse. As they walked out of the dorm she casually asked, "So, is this a Life, Death and Brigade party?"

Logan stopped walking and she almost ran into him.

"What? How did you-"

"I told Paris about tonight and she guessed it. So, it is then? A Life, Death and Brigade party?"

"Yeah, it is," he said carefully.

"So, you're a member?"

"Yeah, I am," he said.

She smiled a bit and said, "Does this make me an honorary member? You know, like, I'm dating into the society."

He laughed, slipping his arm around her waist. "Absolutely, Ace. You are absolutely an honorary member."

"Is it okay that you're bringing me? I mean, I'm not a member, and secret societies generally frown upon non-members being at their, well, member events."

"Don't worry," Logan said. "You're with me. It'll be fine."

"So, I'm not going to be chased out with pitchforks?"

"Nah, all the pitchforks are being refurbished this weekend, so I think you'll be fine."

She smiled and slipped her hand into his, and they continued on toward the party.

The party was held at a lake house a few miles outside of New Haven. It was too cold to use the lake, but the house was nice and heated. Rory followed Logan inside, taking off her coat as she looked around. She hadn't been to a lot of parties, but this one didn't look too different from what she'd seen before. The house was packed with people, most holding bright red Solo cups that Rory was sure most of them equated with searing headaches in the morning.

"I'm going to get you a drink," Logan said, mouth close to her ear so she could hear over the loud din of the party. "What do you want?"

"Whatever you get me is fine," she said.

He nodded and headed off toward the kitchen. Rory stood by herself, glancing around for familiar faces. She spotted a few, but most of the people were faces she'd never seen. It struck her then how many people there were on campus that she didn't know and likely never would. But then she saw Finn.

"Love, what are you doing here?" he slurred, leaning precariously to the side. "You're not – you're not one of us, are you?"

Something about that statement made her stomach twist, and gratefully before she had to come up with a response Logan returned with her drink.

"I see you found Finn."

"Mate, you do remember we're a secret society, right?"

"It's Rory. It's not like she's going to tell anyone."

"I won't," Rory piped in, feeling that she should at least speak when she's being indirectly attacked. "I swear on my mom's Bangles collection."

"That's some serious swearing over there, Finn," Logan added.

Finn hesitated for only a moment before slinging his arm around both of their shoulders and squeezing them a bit too tightly as he slurred, " Aw hell, I can't stay mad at you guys. Rory, do you have a drink?"

"Yes, she does," Logan said, handing her a cup filled with beer. Finn took one look and shook his head.

"That's not a real drink. If you're one of us tonight, then you need to drink like one of us. Come on, love. It's time to get you initiated."

He beckoned for her to follow him and Rory dutifully walked behind him. Logan fell into step beside Finn and said, "You're not giving her what we all had to drink, are you?"

"She's one of us tonight, mate! We have to do things right!"

Logan groaned and took a hold of Rory's arm. "Listen, you don't have to drink whatever he gives you. Just pretend to take the shot and spill it on the floor or something."

She looked at him strangely. "What is he giving me, turpentine?"

"No, something much worse. Just…don't drink it."

Finn stopped at a bar filled with tall liquor bottles. He picked up an empty cup that she really hoped was clean, and she watched him set to mixing an alarming number of liquors. He ended it all with a dash of Red Bull, and then handed it to her with a flourish.

"This, Rory Gilmore, is the drink of our ancestors! It passes through the lips of every Life, Death and Brigade member!"

"Okay," she said with a definitive nod, swirling the contents of the cup a bit before making the mistake of sniffing it. She coughed at just the smell and Logan laid a hand on her shoulder, giving her a meaningful look.

"Remember what I said," he murmured.

She knew he was probably right. Nothing good would come out of the contents of the cup. In fact, the only thing coming out of it would probably be her vomiting, but she was tired of doing the right thing. She was tired of following the plan and doing what she what she thought she should. That's what she had done all of this year, and where did it get her?

Decision made, she raised the cup to her mouth and kicked it back. It burned her throat and she began to gag almost immediately, some sort of acrid taste clinging to the roof of her mouth.

"That was awful," she sputtered, hand pressed against her chest.

"That was tradition," Finn said, raising his glass. All around her, the other members followed suit. "Welcome to the neighborhood, love!"

After "joining the neighborhood" Rory found herself with drinks constantly being pressed into her hand. Logan tried to get her to slow down but she brushed him off saying, "Didn't you want me to have fun tonight?"

"Yeah," he said. "But I'm a little concerned about your tomorrow."

"Who cares about tomorrow?" she said loudly. She felt like the room was swaying. Or maybe she was swaying. Something was swaying, and she felt that the only thing to do was to go with it. She saw a group dancing and ran over to join them, moving her hips freely with her hands in the air. Logan followed her, frowning.

"Logan," she said, drawing out his name as she faced him and took a hold of his face. "You're not having fun! Have fun!"

He smiled a bit, palming her waist. "I'm having tons of fun, Ace."

She kissed him hard, fingers twined in the back of his hair. Abruptly, she pulled back and demanded, "Dance with me!"

He slid his arms all the way around her waist and pulled her close, moving his hips against hers. She molded her body against his, pressed so close that he could feel her heart hammer against his.

The music was so loud that she could barely hear her own thoughts, but she liked it. Why did she have to think, anyway? Right now there was just the beat, and her buzz, and Logan pressed against her. There was no room for thinking. Someone she met earlier – Trey, maybe, she remember it started with a T– walked by and handed her a shot. She went to take it but Logan stopped her, prying it away from her fingers.

"Hey!"

He drank the shot himself and she whined, "That was mine."

"You've had enough for one night, Ace."

"No, I haven't," she said unhappily, frowning up at him. She disentangled herself from him and staggered off in the direction of one of the bars. Logan sighed and followed, calling out, "Ace, slow down!"

She clumsily grabbed at a bottle of whiskey, and poured it into a random cup on the bar. She hadn't bothered to check if it was empty, and poured the whiskey with a heavy hand. Just as she brought it to her mouth Logan snatched it away. Anger coursed through her and she spat, "What's your problem?"

"You've had enough," he repeated gently. "Come on, Ace, why don't we head out? It's late."

She made some sort of abrupt movement at that, like she was trying to square her shoulders but her mind didn't completely gel with her body. She stumbled forward a bit and said, "I'm not ready to go home. I'm having fun."

"Ace, come on-"

"I'm going to go have fun," she spelled out slowly, words slurred. "You just stay here and be a wet blanket for someone else, okay?"

She stalked off, but not before she grabbed the cup from his hand and downed nearly the entire thing. Logan sighed, beginning to go after her when Colin appeared.

"Gilmore's a real handful tonight, isn't she?"

"She's not acting like herself," he said. "I think something' wrong."

"I think that 'something' is called alcohol."

Logan shook his head. "No, I've seen her drink. She's not like this. It's like…"

"Like, she's one of us?"

Logan swallowed uncomfortably and murmured, "Yeah."

"Well, I don't know what to tell you, man."

Finn rushed over and and said, "Uh, Logan, your girl's puking in a plotted plant."

"She's what?"

"Yeah, over there," Finn said, pointing in what seemed like more of a general direction that anything else. "You might want to do something about it."

Logan grumbled something under his breath, pushing his way through the crowd. Sure enough, there was Rory hunched over a potted plant. He went to her side quickly and put what he hoped was a comforting hand on her back.

"Ace?"

"I just…I just puked in a plotted pant," she murmured, her voice wavering. "I puked in a plotted plant. In public."

"Well, in your defense most potted plants are in public."

"What am I doing?" she cried softly, her body trembling. "This isn't…what am I doing, Logan?"

"Come on, it's time to go home."

"I can't," she said. "All these people-"

"Have been in your situation or worse," Logan finished calmly. "I've partied with these guys a lot, Ace. This right here? It's nothing."

She glanced at him nervously. "Really?"

"Yeah. Come on, let's go."

When she didn't move he noticed her fingers gripping the edges of the terra cotta pot. Her knuckles were white. He gently pried her fingers away from the pot and grasped them both tightly after.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "Before, I-"

"It's okay," he said, pulling her against him. She smelled like vomit and whiskey. "Let's just go home."

Rory woke up the next morning in Logan's bed. Her head was throbbing so badly that just turning it to glance at the clock made her want to scream. Logan walked in and said, "Ah, you're alive."

"Barely," she croaked. Her throat felt like sandpaper and she wondered if she'd done a lot of yelling the night before.

The night before.

It was a blur for the most part, but she distinctly remembered Finn and a terra cotta planter.

Logan disappeared in the kitchen and then returned with a glass of water and some advil. He sat next to her on the bed and said, "Take these and drink all of the water."

She dutifully did what he asked, struggling to get the last bit of water down. When she was done she handed the empty glass back to Logan, her stomach churning uncomfortably.

"I made some coffee but I'd wait a bit for that," he advised. "It's best to let the water do its thing for a bit."

"Okay," she said, closing her eyes. She rested her palms on her forehead and winced as a sharp pain flashed behind her eyes. "I'm sorry about last night. I don't really remember much. But…if I did something…I'm sorry."

"It's fine," he said.

Logan watched her guardedly, uncomfortable with the hungover creature before him. This wasn't the girl he'd fallen for. He should have never dragged her to that party. That was how he had fun, not her.

"On a similar note, I'm never drinking again," she muttered.

"That's probably not a bad thing," he said, reaching forward and brushing her hair away from her face. "Look, I'm sorry I made you go to that last night. I don't know what I was thinking."

"It's okay."

"I should have known that wasn't what you needed."

She rubbed at her eyes and murmured, "I don't even know what I need."

"Ace, what really happened? This isn't all about a grade, is it?"

Rory would have shook her head, but she didn't think even the slight movement would be pleasant. "No, it's not."

"What's going on? Talk to me."

"Remember when I told you about that grade in Kaplan's class?" she began slowly.

"Yeah, the B or whatever?"

"It wasn't a B," she said tonelessly. "It was a C. And that's not all. He told me that he thought I was taking on too much. That I couldn't handle all my classes."

"What? That's ridiculous. Of course you can handle it."

"He said I was taking too many classes. That I should drop one. Anyway, I got upset. It's stupid, really."

"No, it's not," Logan said, laying his hand on her arm. "I know how much you care about school and doing well. It's not stupid."

Her eyes drifted open and she said, "You really think that?"

"Yeah, why would you think I wouldn't?"

"I don't know. School isn't a big deal for you. I thought…I don't know."

"Rory, if it's a big deal to you then it's a big deal to me. And you can handle the Yale workload. I've never thought for a moment that you couldn't. You're one of the most driven and stubborn people I know."

"Except for Paris," she interjected weakly.

"That goes without saying," he returned with a grin. "When you put your mind to something you succeed, Ace. That's just how you are."

"So, you think I can do it?"

He leaned forward and kissed her. "You're damn right I do."

She smiled softly and he climbed over her to lie on the other side of the bed. She turned and rested her head on his chest. She pulled her knees up, curling against his side.

"Logan," she murmured.

"Yeah?"

"Why do I keep remembering a terra cotta pot?"

He laughed a bit and pressed a kiss against the top of her head, "It's better off if you don't know."

A/N: Hope you all enjoyed this! I have some fun stuff planned for next chapter, so get excited! Also - reviews dropped off quite a bit for that last chapter. This is the same spiel I always make, but please just take the time to leave a review. I spend a decent amount of time on these chapters, and honestly want to hear your thoughts on them. So, if I write...you write, too? That seems fair :)