AN: Everyone must take note that we have reached chapter TWELVE! Woot! *dances* For those of you asking, that was for my lovely beta, Jewels12. You can dance with us, if you like, and then tell us about it in your review ;) Okay, okay, to the story!
Rory was horrified. Yes, her grandparents' over-the-top tailgating made her a bit self-conscious, but it wasn't anything she couldn't handle. And sure, her mom was acting a tad loony around the current living version of Dan, but she had become immune to being embarrassed by Lorelai a long time ago. If someone didn't like Lorelai, then it's doubtful Rory would get along with them, either.
But this? Rory froze as her mother's words echoed in her head. Oh, Naked Guy. She wasn't sure if she'd be able to come back from this level of humiliation.
"You told your mother about me?" Marty asked, still staring straight ahead in shock. He crossed his arms protectively like he was trying to curl into himself.
"Um, yeah," she said lamely. She couldn't tell if he was embarrassed or mad, but she did her best to recover from the situation. "Well, I included some anecdotes where you were actually clothed, too."
"Oh, I appreciate that," he said sarcastically, but with a wry smile.
Rory relaxed a little at that. She allowed herself to think that maybe it hadn't been that bad as she introduced Marty to her grandparents. But then she was dealt a second blow.
"Why did my daughter just call you 'Naked Guy?'" Richard asked.
From horrified to mortified.
She saw Marty's eyes bug out at the interrogation. "I now owe you money," she whispered to him, hoping they could laugh this off once again. But on the inside, she was doing anything but laughing. The last time she had been this self-conscious around Marty was at the review, but everything between them had returned to normal eventually, as she hoped would be the case this time.
Luckily Richard was telling his own naked guy story. Though Marty's reaction initially screamed 'awkward!,' it quickly morphed into 'humored,' followed by 'chagrined acceptance' that he had not earned such a title. While by all rights she should be just as embarrassed as Lorelai seemed to be, secretly she felt nothing but gratitude toward her grandfather. By embarrassing the Gilmore ladies, Richard had managed to shift the humiliation off of Marty, diffusing the situation.
She was stunned when Emily invited Marty to stay, but this was quickly replaced by mild disappointment when Marty said he couldn't. She didn't blame him, really. It would have been awkward for anyone to join such a fancy tailgating party with a bunch of eccentrics you only just met, even without various mental images being involved. When he invited her to the party on the lawn, she almost responded with her typical "yeah, that sounds good" before she remembered herself.
"Oh, no thanks," she answered cheerily, knowing it was never wise to bail on the elder Gilmores. Amazingly, though, her grandparents let her off the hook. As they made their exit, Rory chuckled at Marty and wondered if Richard would catch the Star Wars reference.
Walking away, she heard her grandfather say, "I like that boy." She sighed and smiled sadly, dropping her eyes.
Me too, Grandpa.
Right after her dream-turned-fantasy about Marty, Rory had been self-conscious and didn't trust herself to be alone with him. It's not like she thought she'd jump him or anything. But she was worried she'd let something slip, or at least her nervous behavior would tip him off that something was up. And she had been right to worry, as her spastic reactions to his accidental dream references at the review indicated. As it turned out, limiting herself to only hanging out with him around the crew tipped him off anyway. He had been so sweet, concerned about what was going on with her. But he had also been hurt, thinking he had done something wrong that made him unwanted, when that was the exact opposite of the problem. She regretted making him feel that way, even briefly, and immediately began sucking it up and doing her best to act normally again.
For a little while, Rory considered being more forward. She thought maybe if she dropped some hints that she was interested in him then he'd open his eyes and see her differently. But then she remembered that first day in the garden and the song he played. She didn't want to manufacture something. If it wasn't there, then it wasn't there. And if it were, then she'd see it, right?
But she didn't see anything. Not really. Rory was only seeing what she wanted to see. They were always just little things, like how he'd bring her food or give her a little neck rub, which could be explained away by their close friendship.
Sign, sign, everywhere a sign, and none of them meant a thing.
So here she was, stuck in this depressing quasi-state of relationship. It hurt to be just friends with him when she liked him as much as she did. But she didn't want to lose his friendship either by backing off or by trying (and failing) to make something more of it. She tried to convince herself it was just a meaningless crush, and most days she could successfully ignore it, but then a day like today would hit her over the head with it.
Rory sighed, reminding herself it was almost winter break, and kept hoping that would be enough time to get over him.
"It was nice meeting you, Obi-wan," he said to Rory's grandfather.
Richard only replied with a reserved, "Hm," such that Marty couldn't be sure what it meant. But as they headed over to the lawn, he was pretty sure he heard Richard say, "I like that boy." Marty chuckled to himself. He would have expected them to chase him off after finding out he had been naked around their granddaughter. If he learned anything about the Gilmores, it was that they definitely weren't predictable.
"So, your family was interesting," he said to Rory. A gust of wind whipped by them as they rounded the corner. Without thinking, he automatically flipped his coat collar up, holding it closed in the front.
"Yeah, I am so sorry about that. I told my mom that story the day after I met you. I didn't know I'd ever talk to you again. I never would have told my mom that story after we became friends."
"Rory, it's okay. They were nice about it, actually. Your mom –"
"– is a blabbermouth, I know, but she's harmless, really."
"Oh yeah, I know. I was just going to say that she's kind of… young," he said cautiously.
"Oh, right. That." Rory shook her head as an amused smile spread across her face. "I'm so used to Stars Hollow where everyone knows the back-story that I forget it might surprise other people. Yeah, my mom is young. She had me when she was sixteen. We lived with my grandparents when I was a baby, but it was too confining for her. In case you couldn't tell, she's a very independent, free spirit. So she packed me up, dropped out of school, and found a job. My grandparents were really disappointed because their plan was for her to go to college, which is why it's a big deal that I'm going to my grandfather's alma mater. They don't see her life as a success story, but it really is. She went from being a maid at the inn to being its manager, all while earning her GED and then her associates degree. And now she's working on starting her own inn."
"Wow. And what about your dad?"
"He's kind of in and out of my life. Out, mostly. He's not a bad guy, he just… he wants life to be carefree and easy and doesn't know how to deal with the tough stuff." She looked at him sheepishly as they approached their friends. "Sorry if that was a bit too heavy or whatever."
"No, it's cool. I'm glad you didn't mind my asking."
"Rory! Where have you been?" Julie called out to her. "You know better than to leave me alone with these guys at a football game."
"Then you probably don't want to hear that my appearance is just temporary," Rory laughed.
"What? No, you have to stay," Julie whined.
"Can't. I have to join up with my family again later. But I'll tell you what, how about we invite the boys over to my dorm and make them watch whatever chick flick we pick after the game?"
"Ooo, I love your vengeful side," Julie said, strumming her fingers together evilly. She turned to Carl and Steve to pass along the invitation.
"I notice she's not mentioning the chick flick part," Marty said in a low voice.
"She's well aware they wouldn't come over if they knew all terms, and you better hold your tongue, mister."
"Yes, ma'am," Marty said, straight faced.
"Are you crying?"
"Shut up."
"If you didn't want us to see you cry, why did you pick a tear jerker?"
"The point was to see if we could make one of you guys cry."
"Well, that only backfired a little…"
As Steve and Julie continued to bicker, Marty chuckled to himself and turned back to the movie. He laughed as the older women cut the emotional tension by arguing over whether or not Sally Field should punch Shirley MacLaine. He noticed his head wasn't bobbling as it should be, so he turned and saw Rory was snoozing in her purple patterned beanbag chair. She was lying across it sideways, and he was leaning against it, resting his head on her belly so that when she had laughed, the whole room bounced in front of him. This was the first funny scene he had been able to see clearly.
When the movie ended, they cleaned up the mess of snacks and soda cans that were strewn about Rory's common room.
"What should we do about her?" Carl asked, looking at Rory.
"Rory, movie's over. Time for bed," Julie cajoled.
"Mmm mmm," she objected in her sleep.
"Rory," Julie said a little more sternly.
"MMM!" she whined in protest, curling into the beanbag.
"Paris isn't in there, is she?" Marty asked.
"Do you really think we could have missed her if she had been?" Steve cracked.
"Right. Okay, well, I could take her in," Marty suggested. He scratched his head for a second and then positioned himself into an awkward squat around the front of her chair. He slid one hand behind her back and the other under her knees. When he scooped her onto his thighs, she turned to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder.
He grunted softly as he stood up from his squat. Once they saw he was out of danger of toppling over with her, his friends filtered out. The door to her room was ajar, so he just backed into it to open it, nodding goodnight to the crew. As he turned in the doorway, he hugged her closer to make sure he didn't hit her into the frame. When he did this, he felt her press a kiss to his neck.
Marty flinched and tucked his chin to look down at her, confirming that she was still sleeping. The tingle of goose bumps on his neck slowly abated as he felt the spot where her cool lips had touched him beginning to thaw. He remained still, only aware of a clock ticking and the damp spot he felt growing on his shoulder from her drool. Once he felt sure she had fallen back into restful slumber, he walked softly to her bed and gently set her down on it. He took off her shoes and unfolded the blanket at the foot of her bed to drape it over her.
He stood over her with his head cocked to the side in curiosity.
Had she meant to kiss him? Surely not. First of all, she had been asleep. She probably would have done the same thing if it had been Carl or Steve who picked her up, though he felt an unpleasant twinge at that idea. And second, he was Marty. Overlooked, undesirable, standard-issue Marty. He quietly scoffed at his stupidity, a small puff of air exhaling from his nose for thinking she might have meant it.
Slowly and quietly, he left her room. He made sure to turn the knob before closing her door to avoid a disruptive click. He couldn't do the same for the front door since he had to lock it first, so he just did his best to have the door thud closed as quietly as possible.
"Hey," Carl said when Marty entered their room. "What took you so long? You didn't drop her, did you?"
"Hmm? Oh no, she's fine. 'Night."
As Marty packed up the items he wanted to take home with him over break, he stole a glance over at the small paper bag on his desk. He turned his back to it while he finished folding up the last of his laundry. When he was done, he looked around his uncharacteristically immaculate room and saw there was nothing left to help him stall. With a deep, resigned breath, he turned around and sat on the end of his bed, staring at the bag.
Will it be weird that I bought her something?
You're friends. Friends give friends presents.
But I didn't buy anyone else anything.
You're not trying to single her out. You're just closer friends with her.
But that's the thing. What if she thinks I'm singling her out?
Look, it's not like you 'went shopping' for her. You just happened to come across them and thought she'd like them. No big deal.
Okay, but what if she didn't get me anything?
What if she did and she's wondering the same thing about you?
You think she did?
Just take it downstairs and get it over with.
No, I'll only make things weird.
What's weird is that you're talking to yourself. Just give her the damned present.
Don't yell at me. Just forget it, this is stupid!
Marty hopped off the bed, ready to throw the bag in one of his desk drawers and be done with it, when there was a knock at the door. He swung it open, and in his surprise, awkwardly started babbling as if he had been caught red-handed.
"Rory! Hi! What are –" He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure and ignore the spot on his neck that tingled every time he saw her since that night. "What's up?"
"Not much." She shrugged and leaned against the doorway. "I... didn't get a chance to ask you what you thought of our final."
"Oh, I thought it was okay," he responded. "It wasn't as brutal as it could have been."
"Yeah, I was glad there wasn't much related to the first quarter material."
"Well, I guess that's what the midterm is for."
"True, true."
There was a moment of awkward silence where Marty wasn't sure if there was something he was supposed to be doing. "Did you, uh, want to come in?" It felt odd inviting her in. Usually, she just walked in if he was expecting her, or she explained her visit.
"Oh, no, I'm fine," she said with an embarrassed laugh. "I just came by to say 'have a good break' and… and to give you this." Rory moved off the wall she had been leaning on, and he saw she was holding a gift bag. "Merry Christmas," she said with a stiff shrug.
He smiled, both in gratitude and in relief, as he took the bag. "Oh. Uh, hang on. I actually have something for you, too." He stepped into his room and grabbed the bag off his desk. "Sorry it's not wrapped or anything."
Rory gave a relaxed laugh and said, "No, it's fine. Thanks."
As he pulled the tissue paper from the gift bag, he watched her start to open her present. He reached in, removed the blue and green striped scarf, and wound it around his neck with a bemused look on his face. The fuzzy material tickled his neck, causing that spot to tingle again, and he wondered if the scarf would always do that or only when she was around.
"Now you won't have to pinch your collar when it's windy," she explained.
"I do that?"
"Only all the time."
"Oh, that'll be great, then. Thanks, Rory."
"Sure," Rory said as she pulled out a small plastic bag. She looked at the flat cartoon worms for a little bit before looking up at Marty blankly. "I'm sorry. I don't get it," she said with an apologetic laugh.
"They're magnetic bookmarks. Bookworms. See, look." He took one out and opened it, letting it snap itself closed on the paper bag to demonstrate.
"Oh, neat. You know, my bookmarks are always falling out of the pages, or finding some other way of bothering me."
"Yeah, I know." He smiled shyly, hoping he wasn't being a creep for having noticed.
She looked at him warmly, but all she said was, "Thanks, Marty."
"Sure. Oh, by the way, the final draft of my term paper received a better grade than my other drafts. I'm glad you suggested swapping papers."
"Me, too. We should keep it up next semester."
"Definitely."
"Well, I should be going. Enjoy your break, Marty," she said and gave him a friendly hug.
"You, too. See you next year."
He closed the door behind her and checked his watch. It was almost time for him to head out and meet his ride back home. He did one more sweep around his room, checking the mini-fridge for stuff that would spoil over break, and making sure he had everything before bundling up and grabbing his bags.
Rory could feel her heart rate pick up its pace as she walked up the stairs. While she made her way down his hall, she concentrated on her breathing, trying to force herself to calm down.
It's just a scarf. That's only one notch above socks, right? It's tied with mittens or a hat. You're giving him one of the most boring gifts possible, so it doesn't matter if he didn't get you anything. He's not going to read anything into it. You're not putting yourself out there. It's going to be fine.
When Marty answered the door and asked her what was up, he seemed edgy. Wondering if this was a bad time, she quickly chickened out. Her plan had been to chirp 'Merry Christmas!' and hold the bag out to him, but instead she said, "Not much."
She leaned against the frame to hide the gift, giving herself the option to bail. Realizing she had to come up with a new reason for being there, Rory blurted out something about finals. Though the conversation was a little awkward and lame, it made her notice that Marty wasn't edgy anymore, and maybe never had been. Maybe it wasn't such a bad time, after all.
"Did you, uh, want to come in?" Marty asked, interrupting her renewed, internal pep talk.
She became aware of the long pause that had preceded his question, so she laughed nervously when she answered him. "I just came by to say 'have a good break' and…" For a moment, she faltered. This was her one last opportunity to cut bait and run. But she couldn't really think of anything else to finish the sentence.
Get a grip and just say it!
"And to give you this," she finished. Her 'Merry Christmas' didn't really have the cheerful ring she had originally intended, but it was done. All she could do now was wait to see what his reaction would be.
"Oh. Uh, hang on. I actually have something for you, too."
When he turned away from her, Rory's face broke out into a grin. She struggled to hide it when he came back to the door, and she was grateful that his apology gave her an excuse laugh. Who cared about how he wrapped it? She felt so much more at ease about giving him a present, now that she knew he had something for her, too.
The exchange went smoothly enough, even though she had to have her present explained to her.
"Oh, neat," she said appreciatively. "You know, my bookmarks are always falling out of the pages, or finding some other way of bothering me."
"Yeah, I know," he answered with his trademark, crooked smile, causing Rory to gaze up at him tenderly.
He noticed that? Does it mean anything that he did?
It was such a little present for such a little problem, but it meant so much to Rory. "Thanks, Marty," she said softly.
As they returned to casual, coursework chit chat, Rory wondered if maybe this time she wasn't just seeing what she wanted to see, if maybe this showed that Marty was interested in her. And for a split second, she considered telling him how she felt. But then she realized that there wasn't anything romantic about worms. By the time they hugged goodbye, Rory had managed to quiet the stirring in her heart, reminding herself of her plan to put Marty out of her head.
On her way back to her room, she counted the clips and tried to decide which five books would receive the honors.
