a/n: The only thing that belongs to me is an unhealthy obsession with Jess Mariano and a Gilmore Girls dictionary. Follow, favorite, and review!
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It was a sickly hot summer day in early August and the town of Stars Hollow was practically deserted. Almost all the residents were inside running their fans and basking in their air-conditioned homes sucking popsicles. The only person not hiding from the heat inside was walking down the sidewalk with Kurt Vonnegut shoved in his back pocket.
His black Ramones t-shirt clung to his sweaty back and his normally styled up hair had deflated and stuck to his forehead. Despite the near 100 degree temperatures that had been raging the entire week he stood firmly in his absolute refusal to wear shorts of any kind. Just because he'd moved to Whoville didn't mean he was going to become one of them.
So participation in the insane town shindigs, conversing with pretty much anyone, and wearing shorts were all out. He'd spent the last two months since his return being as inconspicuous as possible, working at the diner for the majority of the day and spending any spare time reading down by the bridge. Multiple times he was tempted to jump in and escape the insufferable heat but wet jeans basically equated to death so he'd resisted.
However, his main summer hobby wasn't serving drenched customers ice tea or getting through the town library's small collection of books none of which he recognized. It had been early June when he'd originally fallen into the routine. Every day between 2:47 and 2:49 the postman would come and deliver the day's mail to the front counter. Because of the diner, there were always half a dozen envelopes addressed to Luke from some suppliers.
Jess would always make sure to be there when the mail arrived and would shuffle through all the junk at top speed, searching for a letter addressed to him in neat handwriting. Every day, he reached the bottom of the stack with not one letter postmarked from Washington. He always wanted to kick himself after, knowing he'd seriously fooled himself into thinking there might actually be a letter from her.
At night he'd always stay up a while sitting reading by the phone, just in case a call came in. He tried to convince himself it wasn't just her, that he was waiting for a call from other people. After all, he did have friends. Well, friends that hadn't even noticed he'd been gone for nine months. It had been funny, going back to his real home in New York after staying in Stars Hollow for almost a year.
But now he was back. All because of some stupid visit from someone who clearly didn't even give a damn. No, he'd chosen to stick himself back into the hell hole. Oh sad, pathetic life. Downright depressing life. His life. It was now 3:14. Earlier he'd yet again given in to the urge and looked for his letter and none had been found. Now he was heading down to the post office to pick up stamps, today's errand assigned to him by Luke.
Wiping his soaked hands against his jeans he was completely caught up in his thoughts. Maybe she was just incredibly busy. She was on a school trip in Washington D.C. after all. There was probably extremely limited time to make calls and really none to be writing letters. Yes, that had to be it. They might even have only five minutes of phone time a week, and of course, she'd call her mother with that time.
"Or her boyfriend." he thought. "He might not even be her boyfriend anymore," he argued against himself. "They both left only a few days after the wedding so you would have heard if they'd broken up," he thought wistfully. "Everyone would have been talking about it if they had." said the rational, logical part of his brain. Either way, did it even matter? As these questions consumed him he passed the Stars Hollow video store, where they'd once stood, him laughing and her frowning.
"The picture's good, it's the people who are stupid." he'd said. When hadn't he made his feelings more abundantly clear? Okay sure, for other people that might be a slightly foggy signal but coming from him every undercover compliment he'd ever given her was the basic equivalent to dropping down on one knee.
Without even realizing it, he'd reached his destination. Practically sprinting for the cool air haven, the bell dinged as he entered, announcing his arrival. Kirk, who Jess had quickly learned worked at practically every place in town, looked up from the counter where he was showing none other than the particular person consuming his thought's mother an array of movie and tv show stamps and envelope paraphernalia.
Lorelai looked up as well, although the second she realized it was him and they met eye contact a few wrinkles immediately appeared on her forehead and her brow scrunched up, and she went back to her postage examination. He leaned against the opposite wall and hid behind his book, although not actually reading. Instead, he chose to eavesdrop on the ongoing conversation.
"I just want the cutest yet most practical stamps possible, Kirk. Whichever ones will both make it across six states the fastest yet also scream 'Mommy misses you, so write back soon or I'm coming to D.C. and will embarrass you in front of all your pretentious little lawyer pals'." she said exasperatedly, using air quotes.
"I can't guarantee any will arrive quicker than the others but I do think you're better off with the 'I Love Lucy' rather than the 'Bugs Bunny', those have been known to frequently get lost," Kirk responded, pulling out a long strip of black and white stamps with the blondes smiling face plastered all over.
"Well, alright go ahead and ring those up," Lorelai said with a sigh. "I've gone through two entire sheets of stamps just for this month writing a letter a day as promised. But, do I ask, do I get a daily letter in return?" she asked dramatically.
"Uh… no?" Kirk responded while struggling to open the cash register to extract change.
"Exactly! Two letters a week, maybe, three on a good one, but seven solid letters? No siree, our mother-daughter bond has forever been broken. Two letters a week and a one-hour call a day are not enough to stop my existential life crisis." Finishing this speech she stared at Kirk expectantly, obviously waiting for her total bill.
"That'll be-" he paused, examining the pack. "13.99." Lorelai slid open her wallet, counting out the bills.
"That's a lot for eighteen teeny tiny stamps," she said, passing over the money.
"Well, you did ask for efficiency and style," Kirk responded, yet again losing the battle with the register. Lorelai tapped her foot, getting impatient.
"Look,f Kirk, if that thing doesn't open in the next minute just keep the change because I have to get home for my Rory call." Despite having heard the entirety of the former conversation it was hearing her name that had the biggest effect on Jess. His hands tensed up just at the mention and he realized he himself hadn't uttered that name aloud in months two months.
"There will be no charity at this government establishment, Lorelai," Kirk said triumphantly as he finally extracted the coins. She rolled her eyes, snatching up the sheet as well as her change.
"Tell the government to hire better customer service then!" Lorelai called as the door behind her slammed.
"Can I help you?" Kirk asked Jess with dignity, but all thoughts of postage had flown right of Jess's mind. So Rory had been both calling and writing letters to her mother. By the looks of it, she was in fact perfectly able to write or call any person she so chose. She just hadn't chosen him. Whether or not the words had been intentionally directed at him they still stung. Hard. Paybacks real. That's what he finally gets after years of listening in on conversations.
His throat was completely dry, his face flushed, and fists slightly clenched. Breathing deeply he ran a hand through his wilted damp hair. He searched for some sort of pain, anger, or hurt. He felt nothing. Nothing that couldn't be momentarily erased with loud music, a pack of cigarettes, or booze. Outside the window, another blonde girl, this one living and breathing instead of plastered in black and white ink walked by. Shoving Kurt back into his pocket he walked out. The bell rang as he left. It sounded like revenge.