Episode 26: Hello Rock Bottom

She had demon eyes. They weren't the blue Gilmore eyes that I shared with my mother, but something dark and wide that made her as different as Emily Gilmore, the one who married into the family, the one who never quite fit in with the two best friends. All these nine months I wanted those Richard Gilmore blues to carry on but instead I looked down at these pits.

Lora gaped at the words on the computer screen. She had bumped the mouse rummaging through Rory's desk for a notebook for school, bringing the screen to life and where the cursor blinked at the end of "I looked down at these pits."

Her face burned. Her heart raced. Her eyes started to tear up but she blinked away the pain to squint at the document name.

New GG2 manuscript

No.

For the first time in too many days, the sludge of depression, of just letting things happen to her, burned away because she did not want to be the villainous focus to Rory's new masterpiece. Lora closed her eyes and shook her head, but her hands were shaking.

At least Lorelai would have said something … if she knew. Did she know?

"Lora, breakfast!" Rory called through the house.

Lora jumped, knees hitting desk drawers. As if that was enough to shake her out of the boiling shock, out of the numbness from the past week, Lora leapt out of the leather swivel chair and stormed into the hallway. She all but ran through the front door, down the porch steps and puffed white in the cold as she just kept running.

Her feet took her to Aaron's house, to the familiar pocked lawn and the crooked mailbox. She jumped past that broken second step and winced at the squeak of the screen door as she pulled it open. She pounded on the door behind it, bouncing a little on her feet, wishing she had grabbed a coat in her rush out the door, then pounded on the door again.

No one answered.

Shivering, she cupped her hands against the front window and pressed her nose against the glass, trying to see past the blinds into the house. It was dark.

"Aaron?" she called.

Not even Cat Stevens came out.

Heart still pounding, the burn of emptiness gnawing at her, she wandered away from Aaron's place and rushed along the street. This time she knew where she was going, all but marching to Mike's house. By the time she reached it, Dean was climbing into his SUV and Britney was shutting the front door behind her, tossing an apple up and catching it.

Lora hid behind a tree as both disappeared around the corner. When she was sure neither would come back, she hurried to the side of the house and dropped into the window well, boots crunching on pine needles. Frost clung to the glass, but there he was, stuffing books into his backpack. She tapped the pane and waved.

"What are you doing?" Mike had that enormous smile as he opened the window, helping her into his room. "I was going to meet you in the tutoring center."

Lora nodded as he talked, nose to nose, walking him backwards, head spinning. She ran a hand through those honey locks, kissed the side of his mouth as his smile went from happy to mischievous.

"We have class," he reminded.

"I don't care," she said and reached under his sweater, running her hands up his stomach.

"You're freezing!" He flinched and laughed, but she kissed the sounds away, thawing her fingers on his hips. She backed him up to the bed and they fell onto it, bouncing on the mattress.

O

Lora played with Mike's hair, spinning strands around her fingers as they lay tangled in the sheets. He breathed against her neck, kissing along her collar bone.

"Excited about the dance tonight?" he asked.

"…Dance?" She blinked up at the popcorn ceiling, wondering if he ever bothered wrapping a broom in a damp towel to get rid of these spider webs. Obviously not, but did he know how creepy it was seeing they had an audience of tiny eight-legged critters overhead? She vaguely wondered if the bugs enjoyed her display of crazed distraction, her desperate need to forget about Rory and her new book.

Mike was talking but she hadn't been listening. Still, she noticed when the hum of his voice stopped. Lora peeked at him, those green eyes laughing at her as he perched a chin against his fist. He didn't seem to mind that she hadn't been paying attention, just stared as he waited for her to remember he was there.

"I'm sorry," she said, pushing on his face to make him look away from her.

Feeling suddenly sick, she leapt to her feet and searched the floor for her clothes. It was a challenge because Mike never picked up his own stuff. She snagged her pants from a bean bag chair and settled on grabbing one of his t-shirts that had a sports logo on it. She didn't know which one just that it was red and convenient to throw on so she could leave.

"What's the rush?" He was sitting up, one thin sheet pooled across him from the waist down. She briefly admired his broad shoulders.

"I have to go," she said.

"To school? I'll go with you."

"Not to school. I just need to go."

"Are you okay?" He ran a hand through his floppy hair, flipping it up on one side but keeping it out of his now concerned frown.

"I just have to go." Lora backed to the door, opening it.

"Okay, listen, about tonight. There's a party before the dance at Patrick Rinold's house-"

"Yeah, sounds good. I'll meet you there." She hurried into the hallway and was up the stairs before realizing she had never been in the rest of this house and didn't know her way out.

Mike was shouting something and she could hear him chasing after her, but her heart was pounding and all she kept thinking about was how Rory thought her eyes looked like pits. Maybe she was the oddball out of the family, the one that just kept messing things up and started ruining things for people the moment she was born. She rolled her eyes because if Aaron heard any of this babbling in her own brain, he'd call her crazy or dramatic or both. But he wasn't around and she felt it like she sat on a see-saw by herself, all heavy on one side, lopsided, like she wasn't working properly.

Lora bumped into a hall table, knocking down a silver picture frame of Mike's smiling family somewhere warm and dusty. She jumped to catch it just as he caught up to her holding his bedsheet around his waist like a cheap toga.

"Mike?"

Lora and Mike jumped. Lora dropped the picture frame again and winced as it clattered on the table. She spun and saw a tall woman holding keys and black coat, lipsticked mouth hanging wide.

"Hey, Mom," Mike said, sliding behind Lora as if she was big enough to hide the fact that he was all but naked and they had just had sex.

"Who is this?" Mrs. Forester asked, petrified in place. Lora felt the weight of her stare as it swept over her jumbled outfit to mussed, knotted hair.

"My girlfriend." Mike wrapped an arm around Lora, as if giving up trying to hide. "This is Lora Gilmore."

"Lora Gilmore," his mom echoed. Lora never heard her name said with so much quiet disdain, like she was a piece of gum on someone's shoe that just wouldn't go away. Mrs. Forester stared for a second longer, a subtle sneer on the bridge of her perfect nose which was far too straight to be natural, before crossing the space between them to latch onto Lora's arm like a skinny vice. Mrs. Forester yanked her away from Mike, who looked too scared to do anything other than hang onto the bedsheet around his waist.

"Get dressed," his mom ordered. "Then you go to school. Your dad and I will deal with you later."

As she turned to drag Lora toward the front door, the rustle of sheets followed.

"Where are you taking her?" Mike asked, which Lora thought was a very good question.

"Go to school, Michael," his mom ordered again, this time in an even scarier voice.

O

The inside of Mrs. Forester's sedan smelled like tennis shoes and deodorant. Lora was thankful when the windows all rolled down a bit so she could get some fresh air. At first neither of them said anything, and Lora started to relax when she realized the super strict lady was just driving her to the high school and not to a bridge to plant her feet into cement blocks before pushing her over the edge.

The brakes squeaked as Mrs. Forester pulled up alongside the curb in front of the school, but then those needle fingers grabbed her arm to stop her from opening the door.

"I read your moms book," Mrs. Forester said. "Dean told me about your mom, but reading it was worse."

Lora's cheeks started to burn. She kept her hand on the door handle, ready to bolt.

"I didn't want Mike to date you but Dean kept saying you would be harmless, that Mike was smarter than him at that age and would dump you at the first sign of trouble." Mrs. Forester had green eyes. That's where Mike must get his, except hers were squinty and mean. "Looks like Dean was wrong. You're a slut just like the rest of your family and I don't want you anywhere near my son. Do you understand? Go screw up someone else's life, you piece of trash. And tell your mom she can go do the same."

Lora couldn't breathe. It felt like someone had just dropkicked her in the chest.

"Now get out of my car." Mrs. Forester all but threw her arm back at her.

Lora couldn't move fast enough. She fumbled at the door, speechless and angry and dizzy because she couldn't breathe. She stumbled into the cold air and Mrs. Forester didn't even wait for her to close the door before squealing off. Lora stared after her, gasping in car exhaust, and wiped the back of her hand under her chin. Cold tears dripped cross her hand and onto her fingers. She didn't know at what point she started crying.

"Who'd you piss off now, Gilmore?"

It took her a moment to find who shouted, but then spotted McDoosherson leaning out of his truck window parked just behind her. She put her back to him, staring after Mrs. Forester again even though her car was well out of sight now. The sound of a lid being unscrewed from a bottle caught her attention and she looked back at McDoosherson in time to watch him sip from a mini tequila bottle, the kind they used to shoplift from the gas station a town away.

"Don't drink it all," she called and marched around his old Chevy. The passenger door handle creaked as she yanked on it, grabbing familiar handholds as she climbed inside.

Nothing about the interior of his truck had changed since they dated. The Metallica sticker she slapped on the dashboard was a little worse for wear, but still there. The Dolly Parton silhouette necklace that she draped over the rearview mirror still reflected the sun.

She peeked over at him, big jaw clenched as if he saw something funny as he handed her the tiny liquor bottle.

It was empty.

"Tell me you have more," she asked with a grin, feeling out of control.

Ryan tossed the bottle over his shoulder into the backseat and turned the truck on. She buckled her seatbelt as it grumbled to life, rattling her molars.

O

The house was empty. Lora stumbled into the table with the singing rabbi, setting it off. She wanted to grab a dress from Lorelai's memory closet for the homecoming dance, which she still planned on attending whether or not Mike's parents let him go. But after spending most of the day with Ryan drinking in his truck, she was having trouble staying upright.

As the rabbi's song jittered through the living room, she plopped onto the couch and stared at the stairs. Had they always looked so steep?

But next to the stairs was Lorelai's mannequin shrouded in a beautiful, if not finished, white dress. It was for her debutant ball, or coming out ceremony, whatever Rory wanted to call it. Of course, Lorelai was creating a masterpiece and it looked almost finished to Lora's drunken eye. She got up to give it a closer inspection, admiring the heart-shaped bodice, the ivory ribbing, and the A-line skirt made of some kind of thin material. It might be a little sheer, but Lora didn't care. She was already kicking off her shoes and shimmying out of her jeans.

O

Lora showed up to the pre-homecoming party at Peter Rinold's house before Mike, but that just meant she had more time to drink from the keg while it was still a little cold. She danced with Ryan and one of his friends to some bone-thrumming music, so blissfully loud she couldn't think straight. The plastic cup she held spilled beer, but she didn't care. So the dress would get a little stained? She didn't have any intention of going to Rory's coming out event anymore. The only thing she wanted was to drive out the hollow ache in her chest, to cut off the painful anxiety in her mind. Ryan danced close with his hands on her hips while his friend grinded up against her from behind. She drank up the attention about as fast as she drank up the beer.

The song changed and Lora stumbled away to freshen up her drink, maybe even find food to soak up the alcohol. Someone whistled and she felt like it was for her, but just pushed through the crowd in the hope she would find the kitchen.

"Lora?"

She found the front door and Mike was closing it behind him, looking sharp in a suit and his floppy hair gelled into a perfect wave over his brow. He looked her up and down and took the plastic cup from her, tipping the last few drops of beer onto the tile.

"What are you wearing?"

"Listen, Aaron, it's the dress I was supposed to wear for some fancy thing my mom wanted me to do but who cares?" Lora fell into him. "I'm done trying with her."

"Did you just call me Aaron?"

"What?" She leaned back to stare up at him, then started laughing because she just remembered that his mom caught them this morning. "Aaron, why are you here? I thought for sure you would be grounded after … you know…."

"Why are you calling me Aaron?" Mike held her by her shoulders. "And I snuck out. I am grounded but I wanted to see you, to make sure you're okay after what happened. My mom told me what she said to you and-"

Lora waved him off.

"Aaron, let it go," she said and pulled on him. "Come dance with me!"

"Stop calling me Aaron!" Mike said, shaking her a little. "And what are you wearing? That skirt is really see-through, Lora, and it's ripped."

She looked down. Little holes dotted the bottom of the skirt where she had tripped on it when she walked here. She shrugged and tried pulling him into the living room to dance. He stood his ground.

"Come on, Aaron," she begged.

"You know what, no." Mike ran a hand through his hair, ruining how perfect he made it. "Looking at you right now, I can see what my mom sees. You look like trash right now, Lora. You're a mess. And are you calling me your old boyfriend's name because you'd rather be with him? Is that what this whole thing was about?"

Lora stared, frustrated as she felt herself sway. She touched her lips to try and focus.

"I wanted to make him jealous," she admitted and hated herself by the way he looked away, like she hurt him. She tried to think through the drunken fog but not fast enough. He was already opening the door to leave. Lora reached for him but he flung his arm from her.

"We're done," he said and slammed the door behind him.

Two or three other guys surrounded her, to comfort her or to make their move now that she was available – she didn't know. Either way, they surrounded her just in time to get vomit all over their dress shoes as she bent over and hurled.

O

"The last time you were like this, you didn't want to go anywhere but here."

Lora looked at herself in the bathroom connected to Ryan's room, having washed herself and brushed her teeth. She let him drive her back to his place, which was empty since his parents were out of town for a benefit of some kind. Her head hurt too much to retain what charity they were dumping copious amounts of money into.

So far, he had been nice enough … for Ryan. Plenty of dirty jokes as she bee-lined straight into his bathroom to shower and sober up. He sounded a little more civilized through the bathroom door, but she was nervous to open it and see his room again after so long, after everything. Even so, she just wanted to go to Lorelai and Luke's house, but after destroying her debutant dress she was embarrassed enough to hide out anywhere.

Instead of making any decision, she stared at her face in the mirror. It was blotched from crying and vomiting some more. Her hair was damp still and hung in shadowy waves around her face. She had on Ryan's robe, the one she used to wear all the time. It was dark blue and old. She fiddled with the pocket on the right side and the tiny hole in the bottom.

"Listen, let me grab you clothes you can wear and I'll drop you off at your grandparents," Ryan said.

She opened the door. He lounged at a desk in the corner flipping through a car magazine. When he saw her, his mouth curled up like all those dirty jokes came back in a wave. His eye was still bruised from when Aaron hit him, but here in the lamplight she could almost forget about that. She wanted to forget about all of it.

"I'm sorry I ruined your night," she said. "Who did you ask to the dance?"

He shrugged and stood, dropping the magazine on his desk as he lazily moved closer.

"It doesn't matter," he said, touching a lock of her hair and pushing it aside.

He was always so handsome, even if he was a grade A jerk. But as he leaned in to kiss her, it didn't feel safe, but it still felt familiar. So she let him tilt her head back and press his lips to hers, let him undo the robe to slip a hand around her bare waist. The shoulders she grabbed onto were familiar, strong as she ran her hands over them and onto his chest to unbutton his shirt. He shoved the robe off, the cool air of his room touching every piece of her exposed skin, his hands hot as they slowly, firmly, remembered her.

O

Author's Note: I could easily write dirty fiction for you all! Even so, Lora is spinning out and diving headfirst into the storyline I have planned out. For those of you in quarantine right now, I'm going to try writing regularly again so you can be kept entertained. Just comment a TON with what you like, suggestions, etc. etc. Unfortunately, I am an essential worker through this COVID-19 madness so am turning to fiction again to keep my sanity. Stay healthy everyone!