Chapter Ten: Jealousy
Lorelai stares at Dean for a moment, struggling to find words that would get rid of the disturbed look on her daughter's boyfriend's face.
"Uh, so...buddy. How ya doing?" Lorelai asks, awkwardly. She has no idea if he had heard what she had said about Tristan, but it was likely that he did. "I thought you were Sookie...so forgive me if what I just said makes no sense. Unless you didn't hear what I said, which in that case..."
"Tristan's here?" Dean demands to know, his voice tight and his lips set into an even tighter frown. Lorelai winces. Yeah. He heard.
"Tristan? Who is Tristan?"
"The person whose name you just said," Dean states, his frown set ferociously.
"Why would I say Tristan? That's a stupid name."
"I know. It's also the name of that guy from Chilton that annoys Rory so much. And you just said he was here, of all places."
"Um...he's not here, paranoia boy..." Lorelai shakes her head slowly as if confused and annoyed by the very suggestion. "I said Rory and Chris have been in her room playing the same song over and over all afternoon," she retraces her steps, knowing she's walking a very fine line. "He's been helping her with some music project for school so they can bond or something. Silly really. He should just buy her a brand new pony like all the other fathers," she lets out a small snort of laughter, hoping Dean joins in. While Lorelai thought that keeping the friendship with Tristan under wraps was not the brightest idea, being the one to inform Dean of the truth was not a position she wanted to be in.
"Chris?" Dean is still not aware who she is referring to.
"Her father..." Lorelai informs him slowly, not knowing why he didn't pick up on that when she said fathers before. Dean's mind is elsewhere, slowly mulling it all over, not sure why Lorelai's words aren't sitting right. "You lookin' for Rory?" Lorelai continues, not liking the expression on his face.
"Yes..." Dean eyes her strangely. Lorelai laughs nervously, hitting herself on the forehead.
"Of course you're looking for Rory. I mean...don't think you came over here to hang out with me!" She gives him a little punch in the shoulder and accidentally hits him quite hard. "Oo, oh...sorry." She pats the spot where she hit him, frowning. "I didn't mean to actually hit you...hard." Lorelai takes a large step away from Dean, taking her hands completely off of him as the look on his face grows even more strange. Crossing her arms in front of her and shifting anxiously on her feet, Lorelai glances toward Rory's bedroom and then back at Dean. "Rory and her dad just went for a ride into Hartford for some fancy schmancy dinner or something. You know, quality time before he jets back to Boston."
"Oh...okay..." Dean takes a step toward the door, unsure. "I didn't know he was coming to visit."
"It was another one of his surprise drop-bys, you know how that goes," Lorelai replies, then stops, thinking about that. "Well, I guess you don't, but he does that a lot. Just for future reference."
"I'll keep that in mind. Do you know when they're going to be back?"
"Probably not until late. I can have her call you?"
"No, that's okay...I just left one of my notebooks from school in her bedroom yesterday when I was here, and I need it to start some homework. Do you mind if I go grab it?"
"Actually, why don't I go get it for you?" Lorelai offers quickly, jumping in front of him as he takes a step into the house. "Rory left some of her more...private articles of clothing out this morning...you know, clean laundry she hasn't put away yet. I don't think she'd want you in there," she blurts out, hoping to god that Dean would just believe her. "What does it look like?"
"It's a red spiral and it has global studies written on the cover," Dean informs her and Lorelai breathes a sigh of relief. Smiling, she snaps her fingers.
"Be back in a flash," she dashes toward Rory's bedroom, closing the door behind her.
Rory and Tristan both look up at her in surprise. They had been too wrapped up in their own private moment and hadn't heard a word of the goings-on in the foyer. Rory had heard her mom calling something out to Sookie and then had let it fade into the background. Rory opens her mouth to speak but Lorelai covers it with her hand and signals for her to be quiet. Glancing around her daughter's bedroom like a thief pulling off a dangerous heist, she closes the shades, grabs the red notebook from the top of Rory's desk and then kneels down in front of Rory.
"Be very quiet for the next few minutes. I'm turning off the light now," Lorelai whispers to her and then jumps up and heads out the door, switching off the light on the way. Rory looks at Tristan in complete puzzlement, and even though it's too dark to make out his face, she's positive he's equally befuddled. About two minutes pass by before Lorelai races back in, grabs Rory's hand, and pulls her out into the kitchen. "Close your door, we need to have a little chat."
Rory does so, but not before turning her bedroom light back on for Tristan.
"Mom, what is going on? Have you lost your mind?"
"I thought Dean was Sookie but Dean isn't Sookie. But I talked to Dean like he was Sookie and mentioned you and Tristan and then I looked up and it wasn't Sookie at all. He came to get his notebook and I totally covered up the damage I caused by my accidental admission of Tristan's presence in the Gilmore household, but in doing that I had to lie and I hate lying. Especially to a poor unsuspecting teenage boy who loves my daughter. One who now thinks I'm absolutely crazy, mind you."
"Wait...what?" Rory blinks once or twice, still processing her mother's hyper explanation. "Dean was here? And you told him Tristan was here?"
"Not on purpose..." Lorelai recoils as if she's afraid of being punished but Rory is just too stunned to react.
"What did Dean do?" Rory asks after a moment, her voice surprisingly calm, cool and collected. Lorelai hesitates, not believing that her daughter isn't freaking out, and then relaxes.
"I told him that I had said Chris rather than Tristan and said your father was here. And that you were out to dinner with him in Hartford. And then I came and got the notebook for him that he needed, and quickly sent him on his way. I'm not sure that he believed me entirely but I think the crisis has been temporarily diverted..." Lorelai says.
"You told him I was in Hartford with Dad?"
"Yes."
"He didn't say anything about the silver Camaro parked out front?"
"Oh...no..." Lorelai cringes. "Maybe he didn't notice?"
"Mother..."
"If he asks, say it was Dad's and that he was having car trouble so you took the Jeep."
"But the Jeep's there too."
"It's a much more non-descript vehicle than a Camaro...you can say it wasn't there and he'll most likely not be able to recall it's presence or lack thereof."
"You think that's really going to work? Relying on the off-chance his memory isn't perfectly clear?"
"Hey, you're the one keeping things from him, don't criticize how I aid and abet you," Lorelai responds, shrugging. Rory lets out a sigh.
"Right, sorry." She glances toward her closed bedroom door, hoping that Tristan wasn't listening to any of this. She doubted that he would be happy with hearing their friendship was being kept a secret on Rory's end of the line. "I'll have to call him tomorrow and see if everything's all right," Rory states, shaking her head in dismay.
"When you call him tomorrow, might I suggest just telling him about you and Tristan?" Lorelai replies. "Because I really don't want to have to make a habit of covering up for you. It's not like you to be dishonest, Rory, and I really don't like it." Seeing the hurt pass across her daughter's face, she quickly continues. "And you know that no matter how hard I try I'm eventually going to screw it up for you anyway, and if not me, someone else, so you might as well just bite the bullet."
"Yeah, I know," Rory admits. "I guess I just wasn't ready to have that fight with him yet."
"You're ready now?" Lorelai inquires.
"Yeah, I am," Rory says truthfully. The one great thing that had come of her time with Tristan that afternoon had convinced her that her friendship with him was something to risk Dean over. Before now, she hadn't been sure. Three months ago the chances of even considering putting any kind of priority on a friendship with Tristan had been more unlikely than the Spice Girls getting back together and gaining musical credibility. But now things were different. So different.
"Good to know," Lorelai responds, carefully watching Rory's face as she seemed to be contemplating something. "Any particular reason why you've changed your mind?" Rory nods with a small smile, then walks back into her bedroom without explaining to her mother. Tristan is sitting at her desk, apparently looking at the photos she has lined up along the back of it.
Out in the kitchen, Lorelai watches the two for a moment, but is soon interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell.
"Make sure it's actually Sookie this time!" Rory calls to her.
"Hardy har har," Lorelai calls as she races to open the front door.
"Hi hi!" Sookie's chipper voice echoes into the house as she scrambles inside, giving Lorelai a hug.
"Oo, cupcake, it feels like I haven't seen you in days! No, months! Years, even!" Lorelai laughs as Sookie hugs her again, bouncing on her tiptoes.
"You just saw me yesterday, Sook," Lorelai says, shaking her head.
"For like, a second! You've been with Luke every single waking moment for the past two weeks!"
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ignore you or anything," Lorelai frowns, stopping for a moment in the midst of putting on her jacket.
"Oh, hon, ignore me all you want!" Sookie waves her off, tittering. "You and Luke, Luke and you...it's so exciting! Did I tell you I won fifty bucks in the kitchen pool? I had you two down for before Christmas and everyone else gave you at least another year!"
"You were betting on us?" Lorelai acts stunned.
Rory chimes in as she and Tristan walk out into the foyer to say good-bye to her mother. "Dean told me that Taylor won a hundred from Miss Patty...and Kirk lost a large amount - though I don't know how much - to Jackson."
"It was only a hundred-fifty," Sookie states. Lorelai's mouth falls open and she puts her hands on her hips.
"That was the highest bet?" She exclaims in indignation. "I figured it was way higher than that!"
"If it were any more, honey, Kirk would've burst a blood vessel," Sookie laughs, and Rory nods in agreement. "He's the biggest sore loser you've ever seen."
"That I believe. Even with the money he makes from all those jobs he has, he's the ultimate cheapskate," Lorelai snorts.
Sookie finally notices Tristan standing there in awkward silence as Rory, Lorelai and Sookie joked around. She glances at him and then raises her eyebrows at Rory.
"And who is this little cutie pie?" Sookie chirps, grinning.
"Tristan DuGrey," Tristan offers his hand, biting back the ma'am that rose naturally in his throat. "It's nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you too, pumpkin. I've heard that you've really done quite the turn around lately," Sookie taps his shoulder with a coy smile. "We're all really happy about that." Rory looks really embarrassed and ducks her head. Tristan takes it in stride.
"Well, I know I wasn't exactly a model of good behavior in the past but as you know I've been trying my best," he replies with a charming smile.
"Keep it up," Lorelai tells him, ushering Sookie toward the door before she blabbed to Tristan that the most popular topic of discussion lately was Tristan's looks and his chances with Rory. She didn't think Rory's face could handle getting any redder. "We're gonna get going or we'll miss our reservation."
"Have fun, you two," Rory says as the pair walks out the front door.
"Oh we will! I'm going to get every last little detail that your mom's been hiding from me for the past two weeks. It's gonna be Luke, Luke, Luke!" Sookie giggles excitedly and Lorelai rolls her eyes, a slight tint of pink shading her own cheeks now. "We finally can talk about Lorelai's love life, hoo-hoo!"
"I don't know why she's so excited about this."
"All we've been talking about for months is me and Jackson, ever since you and Max broke up, I am totally deprived of being on the listening end! I'm thrilled!" She claps her hands together then dashes down the front porch steps. Sookie stops and then runs back, grabbing Lorelai's hand and bringing Lorelai with her. "We'll see you two sweethearts later!"
"Get that article done!" Lorelai calls back and Rory quickly shuts the door, knowing that her mother's words were really a thinly veiled warning born out of fear of leaving Rory alone with Tristan.
"Are you hungry?" Rory asks as they walk from the foyer.
"Sure."
"Have a taste for anything?"
"Not especially," Tristan shrugs.
"Well, unless you want to eat coffee grinds or frozen waffles, I vote we order something."
"What are you in the mood for?" Tristan asks.
"I'm thinkin' pizza or wings."
"We could live dangerously and do both."
"There's no way we could eat both," Rory shakes her head.
"Not a problem for me," Tristan smirks.
"You're that hungry?"
"Don't tell me Dean never pigs out. He has to," Tristan jokes but Rory just smiles faintly.
"When we get pizza Dean always eats salad," Rory explains and Tristan is surprised.
"Well, each to his own," he remarks, choosing not to slide in another insult at Dean. "Besides, if we don't eat it, leftovers are legal, you know."
"Oh, just shush," Rory scowls. She goes to the kitchen and picks up the phone, dialing the number without even thinking about it. "Hey, Joe. It's Rory. Do you still have the Tuesday night special?" There's a small pause. "Well, we haven't ordered pizza on a Tuesday night in quite some time." Another pause. "Yeah. Wait one second." She puts her hand over the phone and turns to Tristan. "Pepperoni and Cheese and mild wings okay?"
"That's fine." Tristan says, too content to dispute anything. He sits down on the living room couch and looks around, having gotten a very short glimpse on the quick house tour Lorelai had insisted on giving him while Rory was setting Lane up on the phone with Henry. The entire house was so quaint, so warm. There were pictures everywhere, little knick knacks, discarded objects on the floor; personality was splashed in every corner. It was easy to recognize the people who lived in this house. Rory plops down next to him on the couch with an extra bounce, jarring him from his thoughts.
"What are you thinking about?" She inquires.
"What makes you think I was thinking about anything?" He shoots back. Rory points to his forehead.
"Your eyebrows scrunch up and you do this strange thing with your jaw," she runs her finger down his jawline lightly and Tristan almost lets out a sigh of happiness at the feeling of her touch.
"Oh, what do I do?" Tristan glances at her out of the corner of his eye, not moving away from her hand. She retraces the path she just took with two fingers, her touch featherlight. Rory looks at him, her gaze focusing on him.
"You kind of set your jaw, lock it. And your eyes always seem to be focusing on something, but nothing at all."
"You just noticing this now, Mary?" Tristan says, finally turning to look at her. Rory draws her hand back, suddenly remembering herself.
"No, it's just something I've always observed about you. Even when we weren't friends. You look so tense sometimes...when something's on your mind."
"Nothing was really on my mind," Tristan assures her. "I was just thinking about how different your house is from mine."
"Different worlds?"
"My house is Cameron's, your house is Ferris Bueller's."
"That's ironic, cause you're more Ferris and I'm more Cameron."
"You're not more Cameron," Tristan scoffs, chuckling. "Not even close."
"I'm the straight-laced smart kid."
"With hypochondria?"
"I didn't mean in every way," Rory replies exasperatedly.
"I know," Tristan says, patting her knee good-naturedly. Rory ignores the tingle that goes up her spine, also trying to ignore the fact that over the past two days the touching quotient had gone up considerably. And largely due to her own actions. Rory's sudden silence makes Tristan instantly regret his action. He had done it without thinking and the second his hand hit her leg he couldn't believe he did it. "When's the pizza going to get here?"
"Joe said twenty minutes."
"It's sad that you're on a first name basis with your pizza guy."
"It's Stars Hollow, Tristan. I'm on a first name basis with everyone."
"Right. I forgot. How very George Bailey."
"That's right. We're a regular Bedford Falls. We even got a cop named Bert and a cabbie named Ernie."
"I still find it cool that that's who Bert and Ernie are named after."
"It is pretty cool," Rory agrees easily. "I used to watch Sesame Street every day."
"I never really watched it. I was more of a Mr. Dressup kind of kid."
"Mr. Dressup? Wow, bringing out the inner transvestite already. Now we're really getting trusting," Rory giggles, climbing off the couch. "But speaking of movies and transvestites, my mom and I taped Tootsie the other night. You feel like watching it?"
"Sure, why not," Tristan sinks back into the couch, setting his feet on the coffee table. He expects Rory to scold him and tell him to take them off, but she just pops the movie into the VCR, turns on the television, and sits back down next to him. She puts her own feet on the table and leans back into the pillows.
"I love this movie," she smiles, settling in. Tristan looks down at her brown head as she almost snuggles into him.
This can't possibly be real, Tristan thinks to himself, disbelieving. The feeling of having her so close to him is amazing. He'd never felt so comfortable sitting with someone in his entire life, while at the same time feeling the incredible stirring of attraction in his stomach. It would be so easy to stay like this forever.
Lorelai bursts in the front door, throwing her purse and not looking where it lands.
"Rory, I want to see it!" She exclaims giddily, racing toward her daughter's bedroom.
"Where is this wonderful creation? I want to pour over every word, every comma, every little detail. Do you have your own little black and white editor's photo?"
"Mom, calm down," Rory says, climbing up from her bed to before her mother can jump on her.
"I wanna see!" Lorelai whines, jumping up and down. "Did it come out good?
"Come out well?"
"Shut up, you little English major wannabe, show me the paper!"
"You're a newsboy now?"
"Extra, extra, read all about it! Lorelai Gilmore growing impatient to see marvelous daughter's brilliance in print!" She tosses her arms into the air wildly. Rory smiles at her mother's antics and goes and retrieves the paper from her backpack.
"Here you go, Mom." She hands it to her and Lorelai stares at it happily.
"Wow...oh, wow, Rory. This is amazing!" She sits down on the bed, eagerly beginning to read. "You and Tristan both got your own little pictures! He looks cute in black and white."
"Mother."
"Oh, don't get all jealous, you look cuter," Lorelai shushes her, her eyes rapidly scanning the article, eating it up. "Rory, this is good, this is really, really good. You sound so professional. And Lane! This is so cool! That's her name, right there, in print!" She points, giggling. "Do you have extras? Please tell me you have extras. I have to bring some to the Inn for Sookie, and one for Luke, and one for Michel so I can torture him...and of course we must give one to your grandparents lest they discover your marvelous exploits secondhand and then I'll never hear the end of it...and of course fifty for me. No, one hundred."
"How much sugar have you had today?" Rory inquires and Lorelai shakes her head.
"Only three cups of coffee, and one sugar cookie. Not that much. This is all natural high, baby. Buzz buzz buzz, I'm rattling and humming out of extreme pride and joy. My little girl is a journalist." She pauses, as if remembering something. "Are you going to show Dean? Cause I totally plan on showboating this thing around town to everyone but I can't do that if this is another secret linked to Tristan."
"No, I suppose you can't."
"So I can't brag?"
"No, I'm going to tell Dean."
"You said that two days ago."
"I am this time. For real. Don't worry," Rory assures her and Lorelai wipes her hand across her forehead with a relieved look.
"Good. Because I wouldn't have been able to stop myself."
"You have the self-control of a rabbit."
"So when ya gonna tell him? Tonight? Tomorrow morning? Cause I want to start the Rory-promotion circuit as soon as possible," Lorelai hops up and down in excitement, holding her hands up like paws and panting. Rory rolls her eyes, but can't stop herself from chuckling as her mom bends her head down and nudges her with her nose.
"I'm going to tell him tonight. Can you hold off until then?"
"I'll try to make it."
"I'm serious, Mom."
"Oh, poo on you. I can keep my mouth shut for a few hours."
"Can you?"
"Would you just go call Dean?" Lorelai tells her, gesturing for her to get out of the room.
"Is the phone still under the pile of magazines underneath the cushion of the armchair?"
"No, I think I used it earlier and probably left it underneath the tv, in the cupboard."
"Why there?" Rory asks as she heads into the living room.
"Don't quite remember...I think I was looking for the TV Guide."
"No, that's in the hallway next to the coat rack."
"Oh! Right! How did I forget that?" Lorelai exclaims, hightailing it into the foyer and picking it up off of the floor from behind the coat rack. She holds it up triumphantly, beaming. "Good, now I know what I can watch tonight while I'm not saying anything about your paper."
"Good girl," Rory pats her mother on the shoulder as she passes by, heading back toward her bedroom. Lorelai follows her as far as the kitchen, her face buried in the small magazine. She sits back on the table and begins intensely reading the Cheers and Jeers section; Rory pauses for a moment before shutting her bedroom door.
She stares at the phone in her hand, not looking forward to the task she knows lies ahead of her. Rory dials his familiar number and waits patiently for someone to answer, half-hoping that maybe he wouldn't be home. But after four rings someone picks up, barely beating the answering machine to the job.
"Hello?" Clara's small voice comes over the line. Rory resists the urge to hang up.
"Hello, this is Rory. Is your brother home?"
"I'll go get him," Clara chirps, the sound of the phone clanging against something hard echoing loudly. Rory pulls the phone away from her ear, startled. She can hear Clara calling Dean and Dean's mother telling her to go get him instead of screaming for him. A few moments later Dean picks up.
"Hey, Rory," he greets her, out of breath.
"What if it hadn't been me?"
"I knew it was you."
"How did you? I didn't hear Clara tell you," Rory replies, falling into uneasy banter.
"I'm just psychic, that's all. How was hanging with your dad?"
"My dad? Oh...great," Rory coughs out. "He had to leave already though. Business meeting or something. So, what's new?"
"Not much. How was school?"
"Same old, same old," Rory lies, for the moment. Telling him it was actually really exciting would have to come after she tells him about Tristan. First things first. "Sorry I missed you at the bus stop again."
"That's okay..." Dean says, though he sounds a bit depressed by the memory. "Did you have to stay late again?"
"Yeah, I had a short meeting to go to. A friend gave me a ride home," Rory informs him, her own memory quickly fleeing back to the ride home with Tristan which had been spent having an argument over whether Thundercats or Voltron had been the better cartoon.
"Paris?" He inquires, not knowing who else it could possibly be. "Did you two make up?"
"Um, no. Listen, Dean..." Rory considers telling him over the phone, but knowing that would only lead to disaster, opts for another route. "Could we get together tonight? Maybe go for a walk? There's something I kind of need to talk to you about."
The line is quiet for a moment.
"That can't be good," he replies. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong," she assures him quickly. "I just have something to...explain...to you, and I'd rather do it face to face." There's another unsure silence before he answers.
"All right...when?"
"How about we meet in about half an hour? In the gazebo?"
"Okay. I'll see you in half an hour then."
"Great," Rory says before hanging up, the word ringing sarcastically in her mind.
"I'll sit in the window seat at Luke's and keep an eye out. Just in case he goes crazy on you. I can swoop in for the rescue," Lorelai states as they stop in front of Luke's.
"I don't think that's going to be an issue." Rory glances across the street, trying to see if Dean is already there and waiting.
"You don't think Dean's going to be a little angry when he finds out that you're friends - good friends, even - with the one guy he would love you stay away from for the entirety of your life? And that you've been keeping it from him? That you were lying alone with him on your bed in your room in practically the dark instead of-"
"Mom, not helping," Rory cuts her off.
"Just trying to put things into perspective for you. Get you prepared," Lorelai warns her and then gets into her Dean mode. "It's gonna be a lot of: 'Rory, how could you. Rory, do you like him more than me. Rory, I love you. Rory, don't you love me?'"
"You do know that Dean doesn't sound anything like that, right?"
"He sort of does," Lorelai smirks but then tries to conceal it as Rory glares at her.
"You're supposed to be bolstering me up here, not making fun of Dean and telling me that he's going to hate me forever."
"I never said that!" Lorelai exclaims defensively. "I was just letting you know that if it doesn't go well, I'm here for you. In the diner."
"Why don't you go in the diner then and let me go destroy my relationship?" Rory points to the entrance and Lorelai bounces toward it.
"I'm serious, though. If he starts yelling I'm going to run over and hit him over the head with my purse."
"Your purse?"
"I put a brick in it."
"There's a brick in your purse."
"Yep."
"Go to Luke's, Mom."
"I've got your back!" She opens the diner door and calls to Rory as she crosses the street. Rory shakes her head and cuts across the park toward the gazebo. Dean is sitting on the bench, looking down at his hands. Rory approaches him slowly, the sight of him making her second-guess her purpose for the talk.
"Hey, Dean," Rory greets him softly, sitting down next to him. He looks up, startled. He had been deep in thought.
"Hey," he replies, looking back down at his hands. "So...what do you need to talk about?" Rory fidgets nervously, not sure where to start.
"It's a little cold tonight," she says, shivering. "It feels like winter already."
"You brought me out here to talk about the weather?" Dean laughs lightly. Rory shakes her head no.
"Actually, I brought you out here to show you something." Rory pulls her newspaper out from her bag and hands it to him.
"A newspaper."
"My newspaper."
"Uh...your newspaper?" Dean repeats, surprised. He looks it over quickly, stunned. "What...when did this happen? Is this...is this what you've been working on all week?"
"Yeah." Rory eyes him, wondering when he's going to notice Tristan's picture across from hers on the front page. "I've been working really hard on it."
"I can tell. It's amazing. I can't believe this...why didn't you tell me?"
"Well..." Rory shifts in her seat again. "Like I said...I've been working on it really hard...almost constantly..."
"I'm confused...so... why didn't you tell me about it?"
"Cause I wasn't working on it alone." Rory blurts out. "I mean...I was working with Tristan."
"Excuse me? Did you just say you were working on it with Tristan?" Dean stares at her, disbelieving.
"Yes, that's what I said," Rory states, trying to stop her voice from cracking.
"Tristan. Tristan that you hate. I don't understand."
"There's not really much to understand...Tristan and I are working on the paper together, that's all there is to it, really," Rory replies gingerly. Dean jumps up, immediately angry. "Dean, just sit down for a second. Don't get mad," she pleads and after a moment's hesitation, he complies. "I wanted to tell you, I just...I didn't know how you'd handle it. I was afraid."
"Did you get assigned to work together on this too?"
"No...we didn't. It was completely voluntary," Rory says honestly. "After Paris refused to let me do anything important for the Franklin, Tristan arranged for me to have control of my own paper."
"He did this? God, I should have known. What a weasel...I hate that guy..." Dean's jaw is clenched tightly and Rory sighs deeply. "You realize this is just another one of his ploys to get you to like him, right? He did this whole thing just so you would have to work with him."
"Dean, I didn't have to do anything, I wasn't trapped. He only set it up for me, because he could. He didn't even make the suggestion that we work together. I'm the one who asked him to work on it with me."
"Why would you do that? Come to think of it, why would you even accept him doing this for you?"
"Because." Rory starts, frowning. "Because we're friends."
"Friends?"
"And we have been friends. For awhile now."
Dean gets up again, this time without an exclamation.
"I wanted to tell you about it, but you're so...whenever I even mention him you get so angry and I just didn't know how."
"How long have you been keeping this from me?"
"Since...the beginning of summer, I guess."
"What?"
"Dean..."
"I don't understand, Rory. What does this mean? Do you like Tristan now?"
"Yes, I like him. But I don't like him, not the way you're thinking. And I don't know how you could think that."
"Have you been with him all week?"
"Lane and Mary too...sometimes."
"The other night when I came by and your Mom said you were with your dad...were you really? Cause I don't remember your dad driving a fancy sports car."
"No, I wasn't with him," Rory replies, ashamed of herself. "My mom didn't want to lie, she only did because-"
"Because she was trying to protect you," Dean finishes. He starts pacing back and forth. Rory watches him, her heart beating wildly. She was still waiting for him to really get pissed off; this surely couldn't be it. That would be too much to hope for. "I don't see why you lied to me if there was supposedly nothing to hide, Rory."
"Don't do that, Dean," Rory pleads, frustrated.
"Don't do what?"
"I told you why I didn't tell you. I wasn't trying to keep it from you because I was doing something wrong. The only reason, and by that I mean the one, singular, lone reason, that I didn't tell you was that you're completely unreasonable when it comes to Tristan and I was scared to lose you over something so stupid."
"So why tell me at all?"
"Because I don't want to have to hide it from you and really, I don't think I should have to! And I think the more appropriate question here is why I would believe I could lose you over this. Doesn't that bother you? Cause it really bothers me." Rory stands up herself, a spark of anger igniting within her. "If that's all it takes to break us up, I think you have a problem, not me."
"I never said anything about us breaking up."
"So you're fine with me being friends with Tristan."
"No."
"Then what other alternative is there?" Rory inquires, crossing her arms over her chest and staring at Dean expectantly. Dean opens his mouth to reply but then stops. He sits down on the bench again, running his hands through his hair before looking up at her again.
"Rory, I don't want to break up. That's the last thing I want. It's just hard for me...Tristan likes you and he wants you for himself-"
"He does no-"
"Even if you don't think so. I don't trust him..." He sighs, then reaches out gingerly and touches his fingers to hers. He gently tugs her hand and she sits down next to him. "But I do trust you. And I know you would never...And if you really think that Tristan is worth your time and friendship there must be at least some shred of decency in him. A very, very, small shred." Rory rolls her eyes at him and he chuckles lightly.
"Are you saying that you're okay with this?"
"I wouldn't say okay. Will trying to be okay suffice?"
"That's a start, right?" Rory says hopefully. Dean smiles despite himself, squeezing her hand before raising it to his lips and kissing it softly.
"It's a start." Rory smiles back at him, leaning in and pressing her lips to his for a short but sweet kiss.
"Maybe you should go to the diner now and tell your mom that things are okay," Dean whispers, kissing her again quickly. Rory laughs.
"And how do you know that she's waiting there?"
"Because you're you and she's her. Now get going before she comes after me with that brick."
"You could hear her, couldn't you?"
"Just the brick part, cause she was yelling it from across the street," Dean admits as Rory stands up.
"She probably did that intentionally, now that I think about it," Rory jokes, heading down the steps. "Do you want to come to Luke's and get some coffee or something?"
"No, I think I'm going to head home," Dean gestures in the opposite direction and Rory frowns.
"Oh. Well, all right. I'll call you tomorrow?"
"Yeah, I'll talk to you later," Dean replies, giving her a small wave before turning and heading toward home. Rory watches him go, not entirely convinced that Dean was as accepting of her news as he wanted her to believe. Sighing, she walks toward Luke's to relate the news to her mother.
The second she walks in the door, Lorelai hops up from her chair by the window, prepared to go into either comfort mode or Beat-up-Dean mode.
"What happened?" She asks immediately, walking toward Rory. "Did the stupid boy do something stupid?"
"That was redundant. But no, he didn't. He...he actually took it better than I thought he would."
"Really?" Lorelai is surprised.
"Yeah..." Rory says, walking toward Lorelai's table slowly. "He was mad at first but then he calmed down and he said he'd try to be okay with it." Lorelai looks impressed as she sits down across from her daughter.
"I...I did not expect that. That ol' boy is full of surprises."
"Except..." Rory starts, her face betraying her thoughts. "Except I'm not sure if I believe him."
"Well, how about this. Let's believe him for now, and then if he does something that disproves it, we can take him out in the town square and beat him with a broom?"
"Good idea."
"Coffee?"
"Even better idea."
"Luke!" Lorelai calls out, not even bothering to turn and look for him. "We need coffee and no disputes!"
"You could wait for me to get to your table before ordering, you know, like normal people," Luke grunts as he stops at the side of their table, pen and pad of paper in hand. He looks at Lorelai with a tinge of annoyance but a lot of love. Lorelai grins up at him.
"I am not normal people and if you don't know that by now, you're dating the wrong girl," Lorelai teases. "But since you are dating me...you think we could get that coffee as soon as possible and with no lectures? Rory here has had a bit of a hard time tonight."
"Have you really had a hard time, or is she using you as an excuse?"
"Really had a hard time."
"Sorry to hear that. Coffee's coming right up." He turns without another word and goes to get them their drinks. Lorelai looks at Rory in amazement.
"Wow...if I had known that you were the key to the kingdom I would've started using that excuse sooo long ago!"
"Glad to know I serve some purpose for you."
"Not the only purpose. I can brag about you now, right? Since the cat's out of the bag with bag boy?"
"You're really awful tonight, you know that?"
"Well, I think carrying that brick in my purse has set my entire body and mind off balance. Everything's kinda sliding to one side."
"Perhaps you shouldn't have carried a brick then," Rory points out, smirking. Lorelai sighs.
"It's better to be prepared, you know," she retorts, climbing up out of her seat as Miss Patty walks into the diner. She pulls a copy of The Chilton Beat out of her purse and grins. "Which I totally am, in every aspect. Miss Patty, hey!" Lorelai is off and running before Rory can open her mouth to protest. Luke walks back over to Rory, setting a steaming mug full of coffee in front of her. He gestures to the seat across from her.
"Mind if I sit for a second?"
Rory looks at him in surprise, startled by his question.
"Sit? Sure," she stammers. "You never sit."
"Hey, I sit," Luke states, lowering himself to the chair and moving Lorelai's purse aside. "What the heck does she have in there? Lead weights?"
"Close. A brick." Luke raises his eyebrows at Rory. "Take a look if you don't believe me."
"No...no, I believe you." He glances over at Lorelai. "She telling everyone about your newspaper?"
"Yep," Rory chirps, then stops. "How did you know about it?"
"She had to tell someone. Just be glad she told the one person in the town who can keep a secret," Luke chuckles. Rory nods in agreement.
"She couldn't have chosen a better person." Rory pauses, then eyes Luke suspiciously. "She told you about Dean too."
"Uh...no," Luke mumbles, clearly lying. Rory shoots him a look and he sighs. "All right, so maybe she might have mentioned something about the possibility of having to ban Dean from the diner."
"I see."
"Do I have to ban Dean from the diner?"
"No," Rory grins, laughing.
"Because I have no qualms whatsoever about doing that."
"I know, Luke, and thank you for that. But I don't think it's necessary. Not yet, at least."
"Well, keep me posted," Luke pats her arm gently and stands up. "You want anything to eat or is your drink of death enough?"
"I'll have a cheeseburger please," Rory requests, her mood actually lifting quite a bit merely as a result of her conversation with Luke.
"Better make it two, in case Blabbermouth over there ever decides to sit down," Luke corrects rather loudly. Lorelai shoots him a glare from by the counter where she is talking to Taylor. She excuses herself and walks over to the pair.
"I am not a Blabbermouth. Sookie, yes. Miss Patty, definitely. Taylor? King of them all. I am merely spreading the joy of my daughter's creative genius. Are you saying that I shouldn't be proud of Rory? Huh?" Lorelai looks at Luke, punctuating her last word with a finger jab to his shoulder.
"Point taken," Luke concedes, smiling. Lorelai leans forward and gives him a quick kiss on the lips, then pulls away and slaps him on the butt.
"Then get moving with those burgers, you plaid clad crazy man! We be hungry!"
Luke shakes his head in both dismay and reluctant amusement and heads toward the kitchen to get their meals started.
"You've really got him wrapped around your finger. It's almost sad," Rory comments as her mother sits down. Lorelai giggles happily, almost giddily.
"Isn't it?" Lorelai situates herself in her seat. "So. I told Miss Patty and she's going to inform everyone she meets, surely. Taylor is posting a copy in the window of the market and all of his cashiers will be sure to mention you in the checkout lines this evening. By tomorrow there will not be a soul in this fine town who doesn't know about your success. I can not wait to tell Michel every last detail of this." She rubs her hands together as if beginning a deliciously wicked task.
"I don't know what I'm going to do with you."
"When we get home, make sure to call your grandparents."
"I will," Rory nods. "Grandpa is going to be so happy."
"I'm sure Emily will be just delighted," Lorelai adds in her haughty tone of impersonation. "You're probably going to get a present on Friday night. Maybe another one of those boring books you love so much."
"I hope they don't go through all that trouble."
"We really need to teach you how to be more greedy."
"I'll try harder next time."
"That's my girl."
Tristan sighs as he leans against the locker next to Rory's, his eyes falling closed. Rory glances at him as she grabs two textbooks and a notebook and shoves them into her bag before saying anything.
"What's the matter?"
"What?" Tristan's eyes flicker open, and he raises his head.
"Did you not sleep last night or something?"
"I was working on that paper for Lit. I just couldn't get the tenth page. I was stuck on nine and didn't know how to draw it out any more," he explains, yawning. "Sorry," he murmurs, turning his face away as he yawns again.
"How late did you stay up?" Rory inquires.
"Until 5am."
"We've had three weeks to work on it, why did you wait so long?" Rory half-laughs, teasing him slightly.
"Rory, please don't lecture..." he pleads, standing up straight and turning his gaze down the hallway. "I worked on it, I just couldn't get it done."
"Sorry, I didn't mean to..." Rory stops, frowning. "I didn't mean to lecture you. I was just kidding..."
"How much time do we have until class?" Tristan glances at his bare wrist and then runs his hand through his tousled hair. "I forgot my watch this morning."
"We have about two minutes. Why?"
"I have to run by my locker real quick. I just realized I left my notebook for this class," he explains. "I'll be right back."
"You want me to come with?" Rory offers.
"What? Oh, oh...no. I'll see you in class," he stammers, turning around and walking backward for a few paces before hurrying off. Rory watches him go, slightly concerned.
"What's up with him?" Mary asks, coming up behind Rory and opening up her own locker. "He looked like he didn't even know where he was."
"He got about two hours of sleep last night," Rory states, forcing a smile. "The Lit paper, you know. Did you get yours done okay?"
"I've had that baby done for a week, thank goodness," she grins. "Never been so relieved to finish something in my entire life. How'd yours go?"
"Ten pages of pure hell," Rory retorts. "But at least it's done. I handed it in this morning." She glances in the direction Tristan went again, falling silent. Mary looks at her questioningly but Rory is too enveloped in her own thoughts to notice. "I've gotta go. I'll see you later."
"Bye..." Mary replies to Rory's back as she walks away. She sighs, shaking her head. She couldn't wait until the moment that Rory Gilmore finally admitted to herself that she liked Tristan DuGrey as more than a friend. It'll take forever, but when it happens, boy is it gonna be good, Mary thinks to herself, smiling faintly as she shuts her locker and heads to class.
Rory enters her classroom and she can immediately feel Paris' eyes on her, Paris' mind surely listing and relisting all the possible reasons, explanations and repercussions for the fact that Tristan and Rory had not entered the room together. Resisting the overwhelming and unfamiliar urge to give Paris the finger, Rory smiles at Henry and sits down at her seat. She looks at the door for a few moments before realizing that she's waiting expectantly for Tristan to walk in, and then quickly shifts her gaze down to her textbook, pretending to find it incredibly interesting.
"The fact you're reading it voluntarily is scary," Tristan's breath tickles her ear as he bends down to talk to her before sitting down in the seat behind her. Rory smiles before rolling her eyes and turning around to face him.
"It's something I like to call studying. Maybe you've heard of it?"
"Oh, is that what that's called?" Tristan mumbles, shooting her back a small grin that merely tugs at the corners of his mouth. He leans his head on one hand, his other arm draped across his overstuffed binder. "You think there's any chance this class will be interesting enough to keep me awake?"
"I wouldn't count on it."
"Do me a favor and wake me up if the teacher is looking at me?"
"Will do," Rory replies, then turns back to face the front of the room as the teacher walks in.
Tristan stares at the back of Rory's head for a moment, the sweet, faint smell of her soft perfume reaching him a few moments after the breeze from her swiftly turning head.
Last night his parents had held a small dinner party. Their close family friends had all been invited, and by that he meant his mother's fellow snobby socialites and their businessmen husbands, all of which played golf at the club on weekends with his equally business-like father. Usually the little gatherings had been tolerable, since all of the daughters of these illustrious families were present as well. Usually one of them would prove to be interesting enough to bear for at least one evening. Usually he'd make it through the evening by disappearing upstairs while his parents had after dinner drinks in the sitting room.
But last night had not been the usual. Rory Gilmore had made the same old routine an unacceptable option. He had made it into the safety of his bedroom with Gretchen but the second they sat down on his bed and started kissing, a dozen different kinds of alarms went off inside his head. All he could think about was Rory. He had no obligations to her but he felt like he was cheating. It was insane to be feeling as if he were dishonoring her. It wasn't as if she felt guilty when she was kissing Dean. He doubted that he even crossed her mind when she was in the presence of Dean. Why should he feel guilty for acting like any other teenage guy?
But he did. And he had walked away from Gretchen, and ignored the advances of every other girl at his house that evening. Gretchen hadn't seemed to mind, the short make-out session with Tristan more than enough to make her the star of the evening in her friends' eyes. Tristan was affected by the situation far more. He had wanted to. He had wanted to force himself to forget about her. But he couldn't.
His paper had been done for days. He had tweaked it, revised it, re-read it, and re-worked it until there was nothing more to be done. All he had done last night was stare at his ceiling, wishing that he could make the constant barrage of thoughts in his mind stop for just a second. But they kept coming, a continuous onslaught of worries and desires.
"Mr. DuGrey? I realize that the back of Miss Gilmore's head must be incredibly interesting, but I think the notes on the board might be worth your attention as well." The teacher's voice cuts into his ponderings and he shakes his head as if to shake the thoughts out of his mind entirely.
"I'm sorry," he mumbles, hurriedly picking up his pen and opening up his notebook. Everyone in the class had turned to look at him as the teacher spoke, but he could see Paris still staring at him even once everyone went back to their notes. He glances at her and she looks away, annoyed.
Tristan sighs, wincing inwardly at the sound of the teacher's droning voice. Scrawling a heading on his paper, he tries to focus on the material. It is going to be a long day.
Lorelai looks up from her stitching as her daughter walks in the front door, dropping her heavy bookbag onto the floor.
"Hello," she greets Rory, looking back down at the shiny piece of pink satin in her hand. "You look mushed up. Long day at Chil-ton of homework?"
"That didn't quite work," Rory mumbles, walking over and plopping down on the couch. Lorelai shrugs, not really caring all that much.
"That's the thanks I get for trying. I thought that calling the place hell all the time might be a little boring for you."
"Well, you know what they say, the truth is usually a lot more boring than fiction."
"Who says that? I thought it was the other way, that the truth was more interesting-"
"Don't trifle me with details, my brain hurts," Rory leans her head on Lorelai's shoulder, frowning. "What are you making?"
"You know that plastic dancing porkchop that Luke has in the diner that he refuses to throw out?"
"Yes..." Rory says, eyeing her mother wearily. "Why?"
"It's getting a nice pink dress. A fluffy one."
"Dear god, why?" Rory sits up, laughing. Lorelai smiles wickedly.
"Well, I figure if I give him the choice of me putting the dress on it or throwing it out, he might give in."
"You go to extreme lengths to get what you want, you know that? It's sick."
"It's a unique, determined drive. It's a great thing to have. You only wish you were so talented."
"Yeah, you're right. You got me. It's my dream to make evening gowns for tacky dancing plastic pork products," Rory retorts sarcastically, snorting. Lorelai sets down her sewing and turns to her.
"You are far too caustic today to have that classified as clever mother-daughter banter. What happened at school?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing. So that means...Tristan's still acting distant."
"That does not mean that this has anything to do with Tristan..."
"Uh-huh. That's like saying that last Sunday at Luke's we were only up all night because we were playing with the Ouija board."
"Mom! Way more than I needed to know there."
"I just figure I tell you something personal, perhaps you'll feel the need to reciprocate?"
"If only to stop you from imparting more embarrassing images into my mind."
"So...Tristan. Still weird."
"I don't know. He could just be tired...I'm reading too much into it?"
"Well, then tell the boy to take a nap! He's been like this for four days now. It's crazy."
"It's not that he's reverted to treating me like he used to or anything. He's just...not there entirely."
"I'm sure whatever it is it'll pass. Maybe something's going on at home. Have you asked him about it?"
"I'm not sure if we're that close yet. I'm...I don't really have it figured out where we stand with one another. We're definitely friends, I know that. But as far as how good of friends we are...? Remains to be seen." Rory lays back down on the couch and Lorelai moves her sewing from her lap to the coffee table, pulling Rory's feet across her knees.
"Well, you can decide that after you see how great of a birthday present he gets you," Lorelai winks. "If he gets you Mod Squad salt and pepper shakers, then he's definitely a keeper."
"Weren't there three characters on the Mod Squad?" Rory asks. Lorelai nods.
"Yeah, I think the salt shaker has a different character on each side."
"The pepper shaker has to feel very superior, having it all to himself."
"Indeed." There is a moment of silence before Rory sighs deeply.
"Do you think it was a bad idea to invite both Tristan and Dean to the party? I'm just asking for trouble."
"You're trying to be the next soap opera star, I think," Lorelai states. Rory glares at her. "Just kidding. I think it will be fine. If Dean gets outta line, I'll simply drop kick him. If Tristan gets outta line, I'll have to take him upstairs and give him a spanking."
"You're gross."
"Yeah, you're right. That's pretty bad. You can spank him."
"I'm going to my room." Rory clambers off of the couch as Lorelai laughs at her, thoroughly amused. Rory stops in the archway before the foyer and turns around, narrowing her eyes. "And don't think that I don't know you made the first comment just because you knew I would protest and you could use the second one. I'm onto your little schemes."
"Drat! Foiled again."
"Forget my room. I'm going to Lane's."
"Meet me at Luke's for dinner at 6?"
"Are you gonna be insane still?"
"Of course. But I'm planning on finishing this dress right now. Don't you want to be there to see the look on Luke's face when I give it to him?"
Rory pretends to think for a moment as she pulls on her jacket.
"Yeah, actually, that would make my day 100 better."
"Now you see why I harass him so much."
"No, Mom, you harass him because you're in love with him."
"Oh yeah..."
"I'll see you later."
"Ciao," Lorelai calls as Rory walks out the door. Rory stops on the front porch as the door closes behind her. Dean is walking across the front lawn toward her house. Rory frowns slightly and then sighs. She really didn't want to deal with him right now. The prospect of a little low-key hang time with Lane is very appealing and this is just another obstacle in the way.
"Hey, Rory. Where you going?"
"I was heading over to Lane's."
"Good thing I caught you. Mind if I walk you over?"
"Um, sure. Sounds good," Rory replies, stepping down off of the porch and falling into step with him as they head toward town. "Lane said you guys had a horrible chemistry test today. How did that go?"
"It went fine," Dean shrugs. "Just another test."
"Oh, well...that's good, right?"
"Could've been worse. Listen, I kind of wanted to talk to you about something."
"About what?"
"I want to work on your newspaper with you."
"What?" Rory can not keep the surprise and anger from immediately becoming evident in her voice.
"I want to be a part of it."
"Dean...come on."
"What? You don't think I could be good at it?" Rory looks up and down the street before crossing to the other side, picking up her pace and walking a few paces in front of Dean. He catches up easily. "I think I could help."
"Don't take this the wrong way, but...you know about sports and mechanics, Dean. This is a music-oriented publication, it's not exactly up your alley."
"Music-oriented publication? Rory, stop talking like you're fifty. It's a high school newspaper. And if Lane can work on it and Tristan can work on it, I don't see why I can't," Dean retorts, on the verge of whining. He catches himself and stops for a moment before continuing. "Okay, this isn't going how I planned. I just...you're going to be spending a lot of time on this thing, obviously, and I'd really like to be involved. That's all."
"If this is about Tristan..." Rory stops and glares at him, annoyed. "If you think this is going to be an opportunity for you to come there and claim me are your property, you're wrong."
"Rory, it has nothing to do with me claiming you, for god's sake. I'm just trying to be a part of your life. Which is growing increasingly hard these days."
Rory looks away from him and starts walking again, Kim's Antiques in sight. Dean walks beside her silently, wondering if he should keep talking or just let her think. They remain quiet until they reach the while picket fence surrounding the Kim's house. Rory stops in front of the gate and turns to her boyfriend.
"Tristan's coming to my birthday party on Saturday."
"Excuse me?"
"If you can prove to me that this is really about spending time with me instead of keeping an eye on me, you can write whatever you want for the paper. But if you do anything that can be remotely construed as vindictive toward Tristan, I'm going to be really angry."
Dean bites back the angry words forming in the back of his throat as he hears Rory's ultimatum, maddened by her defending Tristan DuGrey so adamantly. Instead he forces a grim smile and nods his head.
"Fine. I'll see you on Saturday."
"Good." They nod at each other in unison and Dean turns and walks toward the market to go to work. Rory rolls her eyes and swings open the gate and walks up the walk to the Lane's front door. Lane meets her in the foyer.
"What was that about?"
"What?"
"You and Dean outside? You didn't look too happy from the view I had from my window."
"Why, you little spy."
"Come upstairs and dish."
"There's little to talk about. Boys suck. All of them." Rory declares as she follows Lane up the stairs to her bedroom.
"All of them? That's a little harsh. Why are you against the male species? Dean being stupid?"
"Dean's a pain, Tristan's a pain, and if Henry asks me about you one more time, he'll officially be a pain too."
"He's been asking about me?"
"Only every time I see him. Sometimes twice in the same day. How he thinks I'll have an update on you between sixth and eighth period, I just don't know."
"He's so sweet."
"No. Stupid. Boys are stupid," Rory reiterates as they go into Lane's bedroom. Lane sits down on her bed and looks at Rory with compassion.
"Tristan is still playing the avoidance game?"
"Yes. Only it's not avoidance, it's...god, I don't know what it is. It's not like he won't talk to me or that he runs away when he sees me."
"I know. It's just that he will barely look at you, yada yada yada. And the status of that behavior has not changed."
"Nope."
"And Dean?"
"Getting worse. He just asked me if he could work on the paper with us."
"What?" Lane shrieks.
"That was my reaction." Rory sits down on the bed and then flops backward, closing her eyes and letting out a sigh of frustration. "I still really like Dean and I want to keep dating him, but he's making it impossible."
"What did you tell him about the paper?"
"I said that if he could act mature at my birthday party in the presence of Tristan, I'm willing to give him a chance on the paper."
"This party is going to be more interesting than the one when you turned eight."
"It's going to be crazy, especially if my grandparents come again."
"Are they going to throw you another Friday night party?"
"No. Since my birthday technically falls on a Saturday this year, my mom managed to convince Grandma that it wasn't necessary. After last year, I don't think it really took that much work on her part."
"Good to hear." Lane hops off of her bed and kneels down on the floor. "Hey, you need to be cheered up?"
"Oh yes, please!" Rory sits up, a smile lighting her face. Lane lifts up the floor board that covers her miscellaneous section and takes a CD out. She holds it up with a grin and a laugh.
"The Muppets Greatest Hits."
"Lane, you are so incredibly awesome, have I told you that?" Rory stands up and Lane just gives her a modest shrug.
"I do my best. Let's pop this baby in and then plan a way to get all the men on earth to act like Pacey on Dawson's Creek."
"Excuse me?"
"Okay. Bad analogy. But his character always behaves in an impossibly perfect boy way. It's not natural."
"Neither is watching that show."
"Hey, I don't watch. I just hear people talking about it in homeroom."
"Sure, sure..." Rory teases as Lane puts on the CD.
"Just listen to The Rainbow Connection and stop being a brat," Lane demands jokingly. "Think about Kermit the Frog. He was a great guy."
"Kermit the Frog?"
"You don't see that?"
"Well, he did love and respect a woman who was headstrong, individualistic and career-oriented and he never questioned her goals or beliefs. And she was a pig. That's gotta count for something," Rory thinks about it out loud and Lane nods in agreement.
"Exactly the reasons I had."
"Great minds think alike."
"So what I secretly wanted for my birthday you probably got me?"
"Not telling. That's a surprise," Lane replies. "And I think your mom got that thing you were thinking about."
"How do you know?"
"What the thing is or that Lorelai got it?"
"Both."
"Because I am a psychic diva of the highest order."
"Ah. Well. That explains everything."
"You're ignoring Kermit again."
"Oh yes, right. Silence."
Rory weaves her way through the rows of lockers and girls, trying to ignore the busy, mindless chatter of weekend plans and romantic scandals. Gym class had been long and excrutiating, forty-five minutes of trying to avoid the volleyball at all costs. She had been remarkably successful today; she had come in contact with the white rubber ball of pain just twice and had managed to hit it without too much humiliation. As a bonus, Paris had been on the other team so interaction was limited to glares through the net. Stopping at her locker, she spins the dial and opens it up. Eagerly she pulls out her clothes, going from one uniform to another.
"He's an amazing kisser, you have no idea," Gretchen Madison's voice echoes clearly into Rory's ears as her sentence trails off into a happy sigh. "And his body..."
"Don't tell me that you guys did it," Tori Adams replies. Rory is about to ignore the idle chatter when suddenly the conversation becomes all too interesting.
"No, though I wish we did. Tristan DuGrey must be unbelievable in bed..."
"I've heard stories..."
Rory stops buttoning up her blouse, staring into her half-empty locker as if stunned.
"How come you didn't tell me about this before?"
"Well I could've sworn that I told you on Monday...I must've told Delilah...I mean, I couldn't get him out of my head all weekend."
"Are you going to hook up again?" Tori asks, rounding the corner and finally coming into Rory's view. Gretchen follows momentarily, adjusting her tight, tailored blouse. "Lord knows that Tristan's attention doesn't stay focused on one person for long." Both girls laugh and Rory could swear that Gretchen looked at her, smirking. The two girls breeze by, Tori accidentally hitting Rory in the shoulder with her bookbag.
"A girl can hope, can't she?" Gretchen giggles, pushing open the swinging door to the locker room and disappearing from sight. Rory stares after her for a moment and then shakes herself back to her senses, quickly finishing getting changed and closing her locker. Shaking her head, she picks up her bag, runs her hand self-consciously through her hair and tries to shake off the sinking feeling in the bottom of her stomach.
Exiting the locker room, she barely has time to walk two steps before she wants to run back inside and hide. Tristan...and Gretchen Madison? What was that? How could she not have known? Why didn't he say anything?
"Rory." Paris cuts into her thoughts, stopping her in her tracks forcefully with her hand. Rory, not really paying attention, tries to keep walking for a moment before realizing why she can not move.
"Paris. Hi. Can't talk right now."
"Well you're going to have to."
"I...not right now, Paris. I can't..." Rory shakes off Paris' grasp. Paris just stops her again.
"I saw that look on your face," she states vehemently. "You like him."
"Who?" Rory plays stupid, trying to move past Paris once more. Paris follows her down the hallway.
"Your face fell right onto the floor the second you heard Gretchen. You should have seen yourself. It was hilarious. Does Tristan know that he's conquered the heart of the one girl he thought he couldn't have, or is he still under the impression that you think of him as a friend?"
"Paris, you know, if this is all you have to do with your time, maybe you need even more extracurriculars. Nobody should be this interested in a relationship that isn't even theirs." Rory picks up her walking speed, wanting desperately to shake both the strange feeling she has as well as Paris.
"I just think that if I had someone worship me the way that Tristan worshipped you, I wouldn't have been so stupid about it. Every girl in this school would love to be in your shoes and now that it is another girl in your shoes, you finally realize what you passed up? How trite. How predictable. How pathetic." Paris shakes her head in overdramatic despair and then turns and walks away, leaving Rory alone. Sending one final glare after her, Rory starts toward her next class.
"Hey, Mary," Tristan greets her, his voice slightly lower than normal. He gives her a slow smile as she sits down in front of him. Rory forces a tight, awkward smile, feeling almost angry and resentful at the mere sight of him. Opening up her notebook, Rory berates herself for feeling that way. I don't have the right to be angry, she reminds herself. And I shouldn't even care, Tristan should hook up with whoever he wants to.
"Are you okay?" Tristan asks, tapping her lightly on the shoulder. Rory glances at him to appease him, quickly refocusing her gaze back on her notes. "You're really pale."
"I'm always pale."
"More so than usual."
"I'm fine."
Luckily for Rory class started then, saving her from any further conversation with Tristan, or anyone, for that matter. Her mind was racing, her own thoughts giving her an immediate headache. Her imagination kept conjuring up an image of Tristan and Gretchen sitting in some elaborate, lavishly decorated study in some huge mansion, making out in front of a huge, warm fireplace, like some horribly cheesy romance movie. It was disturbing and unsettling.
As soon as the bell signaling the end of class rang, Rory jumped up from her seat. She picks up her things rapidly, purposefully avoiding Tristan's inquisitive gaze. Hurrying to her locker, she doesn't have to look back to know that Tristan is following her. He stops at her side, gently flicking a piece of her wayward hair out of her face for her.
"What's going on?"
"I'm getting books from my locker. The day's not over, you know, we do have more classes," Rory replies, snippily. She curses herself, wishing that she could just hide the way she's feeling and pretend that everything is all right. Tristan raises one eyebrow at her but does not make any retort.
Instead, he opts to set his hands on her shoulders and rub them gently.
"Are you worried about the test for-" He stops mid-sentence as Rory shrugs off his touch. "Okay, what's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong."
"You're lying."
"I should be asking you what's wrong. You're the one who has been acting strange all week." Tristan frowns at her comment, knowing that what she said was true. "And now you try to act all concerned, as if you haven't been pushing me away for the past four days...but of course I now know why."
"You do?" Tristan asks before he can stop himself, surprised.
"Gretchen Madison?" Rory shuts her locker, her voice cracking. "I mean honestly...Gretchen Madison!" Not knowing what else to do, Rory spins on her heel and walks away from him as fast as she can, feeling undeniably stupid. Why had she even brought it up? Why had she said that? Ignoring Tristan calling for her to come back, Rory ducks into the girl's bathroom, wishing the day was just over so she could go home and hide.
To be continued ...
A/N: Reviews are love. Thank you for all of yours and please keep them coming.