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Rory watches Jess leave, shellshocked. She is stunned, unable to move or speak, yet there's a sudden spark of energy in her, a tingling, like a bucket of icy water has been poured over her. Rory had wanted to deny everything Jess was saying, retort that he doesn't know, but he does. Jess does know. He's right about everything, right with everything he said. He knows her better than anyone. Rory feels a jolt of electricity shoot through her and sucks in her breath. It was as though someone had looked her in the eye for the first time in months and Rory releases her breath with a shudder. She doesn't know what to do.

Standing outside, staring at where Jess went isn't an option so, gathering herself, Rory makes herself return to the restaurant. Logan is drinking yet more beer and has the audacity to grin at her.

"You're not going to believe this. Over the music, the crowd, I hear one girl's voice cutting through it all, the folk singer. She's in the corner with her boyfriend. I sent them over a round of drinks. What the hell? He gone?"

"Yes, he's gone," Rory says stonily and as Logan puts his beer down he says sardonically, "Ah, writers are so sensitive."

Rory's had enough and, going around the table, she says with disgust, "You were a jerk, Logan."

Logan seems unbothered by this accusation as he cheerfully retorts, "I was just challenging him. Jeez. Hey, if Hemingway can take it, so can he. Hey, if he wanted to, he could have taken a pop at me. Pugnacity!" Logan says gleefully, accenting the word with his fist. "It's a vital component of literary life. Again, consult your Hemingway. Come on. Do not let this guy get to you."

"You're getting to me!"

That wipes the grin off Logan's face and he exclaims, "Me?"

"Yes. You were an ass."

"Look, I'm sorry I interrupted your dinner," Logan says in mock-confusion. "I really messed things up here."

Rory used to like this about Logan, their back and forth, how he'd challenge any frustration she was harbouring but right now she can't stand it, can't stand him and she says angrily, "Jess wrote a book. He wrote a book, and you mocked him."

"I did not mock him!"

"He's doing something," Rory says and Logan replies calmly, "Good. Fine. He's doing something. Everybody in the world's doing something. More power to him."

Logan doesn't get it. Rory isn't sure if it's an act or not but it doesn't matter, she's clear on what she sees and doesn't like it. Desperately, she says, "I'm not. I mean, what am I doing? I'm spending practically all my time with my grandparents. I'm doing more with the DAR than I am with the paper."

"That's temporary," Logan says calmly. "Have a drink."

"Temporary can turn into forever," Rory insists.

"The DAR isn't forever," Logan argues but Rory ignores him, his words inaudible under the storm in her mind.

"I'm palling with my grandmother and being waited on by a maid. When I visit, which is all the time now, my shoes are magically shined. My clothes are magically clean, ironed, and laid out. My bed is magically turned down. I'm working with the DAR? I'm going to meetings and teas and cocktail parties?"

Logan doesn't seem to be listening. "Again, temporary. Have a drink."

Rory is in a kind of reverie as she says feverishly, "And wasting my time partying and drinking, just hanging out doing nothing."

That snaps Logan out of his cheer. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," he says furiously, getting up, "don't you dare pull me into this!"

"I didn't say anything about you," Rory says, confused, and Logan contradicts, pointing his finger as he argues, " Yes, you did. Don't make me feel guilty for your drinking and partying. That's your choice. I'm not forcing you. When I ask you out, you can say no."

"It's all we do!"

"It's not all we do!"

"It's all you do," Rory says impatiently and Logan lets out an angry breath as he says, " Well, it's my prerogative, you know. You're damn straight. I'm going to party. I'm going to do it while I have the chance because come June, my life is over."

Rory is through with this tale of woe as she says sarcastically,"Oh, yes, your horrible life. Let's hear about it."

"Got a week?"

"You have every door open to you," Rory exclaims. "You have opportunities that anyone would kill for, including me!"

"No one's stopping you from making whatever you want happen. Go into journalism. Go into politics. Be a doctor. Be a clown. Do whatever you want."

"It's not as easy when it's not handed to you," Rory tells him, silently adding that Jess made something happen with nothing given to him at all whilst Logan, given everything does absolutely nothing.

"Really? It's all so easy for me?" Logan demands. "I don't want that life. It's forced on me. You talk about all these doors being open? All I see is one door, and I'm being pushed through it. I have no choice. You try living without options!"

"How hard are you fighting it?" Rory asks and, unwilling or unable to answer, Logan answers, "I didn't tell you to start working for the DAR. You did that, it had nothing to do with me! It was all you. Now, you want to change? Change it, but don't blame me. Don't you dare blame me. You know what? Why don't you go off with John, Jack, whatever his name is?"

"Oh, I'm not going off with Jess!" Rory exclaims and Logan stops, letting out a sigh along with the fight. He and Rory pause, perceiving each other for a moment until Logan finally says, "Come on."

"Where?"

"Let's go. I want to go. I don't want to be here."

"I don't want to go."

"Well, my ride's gone and I want to go!"

"I don't want to go," Rory repeats. Normally she goes wherever Logan wants to go, leaves whenever he wants to leave but tonight she doesn't. Logan scowls, digging into his pocket and throwing a large pile of bank notes on the table. Rory regards the money, thinking about how it used to thrill her that Logan carried all this cash, able to buy anything he wanted, do anything he wanted at a moment's notice. It doesn't thrill her now.

"Fine," Logan says bitterly. "That'll cover the bill, cab. Do whatever you want. It's your choice."

He walks off, swaying slightly, and Rory lets out a breath. We used to make fun of guys like this. She said she wanted to stay but now feels unmoored and unsteady. Two men have gone, upset with Rory's words and how she appears to be. It's ironic, Rory thinks, that Jess and Logan dislike who she is. They both looked at her as though she's someone they can't understand. There's the odd feeling that a mirror has been held up to her tonight and Rory doesn't think she knows the girl in the reflection.

She can't stay here all night. Still feeling that buzz, Rory pays the bill and takes a cab back to her apartment, grateful that Paris is at Doyle's. She was supposed to be at Grandma's tonight but Rory can't deal with Emily. She needs to think and, yet, once she's back, thinking is impossible. Rory turns off her cellphone and walks up and down the room, her mind jumbled. It's as if she's on a merry-go-round and Rory lies down on the bed at an angle, falling into a doze around dawn. She wakes with a start a few hours later and, although sleeping so shortly, Rory gets up with a jump. She's feeling clear for the first time in months.

First stop is Emily's house. Rory drives over, still wired, and after the maid opens the door Emily walks into the hall and exclaims, "Where were you last night?"

"I'm sorry, Grandma. I should have called."

Rory feels a little bad about that as Emily gives a dismissive sniff and says, "I had to call around and I still didn't get an answer. Your friend Paris wants a little training in manners, or a lot. I was not happy to hear her tell me that you spend half your nights staying at your boyfriend's!"

"I'm twenty-one, Grandma."

"That's not point - it isn't proper," Emily says angrily, turning and walking into the living room. "You should know that."

"Right." Rory settles next to her on the couch, trying not to roll her eyes.

"Though I suppose any real hope for that disappeared after you moved in with your hoodlum boyfriend!"

"Grandma!"

"Rory, you know the DAR now," Emily says, as though speaking to a child. "You should remember that."

"Grandma, that's kind of why I came over here," Rory says hesitantly. "I've been thinking that I need to take a step back."

"A step back?" Emily echoes, sitting up. "Why?"

"I need to focus more on school," Rory says evenly. "I want to work more on the paper, concentrate on journalism...I've spent too much time organising parties."

"Those are social events and are important," Emily says angrily. "Why do you think I work so hard helping you prepare?

"You mean inspections."

"My inspections, missy, are for your own good! You don't know the proper procedure for things, the proper dress."

"I do okay," Rory says impatiently but Emily comments, "These things might not matter to you but they matter to me. I want you to look and do your best."

"I appreciate that Grandma, but I'm in school."

"Oh, so they don't matter?"

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to!"

"Grandma, I don't have time for the DAR right now!" Rory gets up and Emily does the same, walking around to face her.

"You weren't saying that a month ago! You were talking about becoming a member!"

"Yeah well, things change!"

"Do not use that tone with me!"

"I want to be very clear," Rory tells her and Emily's eyes narrow.

"You are becoming more like your mother with every passing day."

"And you are becoming more like my mother's mother with every passing day!" Rory retorts. Her grandmother glares, straightening up and snaps, "That's it! That's it!"

"What's it?"

"You're grounded!"

"Grounded?" Rory can't believe what she's hearing.

"Yes, you're grounded from any further events!"

"Firstly, I'm twenty-one - you can't ground me. And secondly, that works out pretty well for both of us, right?"

Rory starts to go and Emily declares, "When your father gets home we're going to have a little talk about your behaviour!"

"You mean my grandfather," Rory says, confused and Emily bristles, composing herself.

"You know what I meant."

"Grandma, I have to go," Rory says firmly, turning and walking to the door. "Excuse me."

"Young lady, do not walk away from me!" Emily shouts, but Rory doesn't stop. "Rory!"

Rory marches out and back to the car. Originally she'd planned to get the spare set of clothes and night things from her room upstairs but now doesn't seem like the time and besides, they're mostly DAR things anyway. Who knows if she'll ever be invited to future events? Rory supposes it doesn't matter so much if she isn't - grounded or not, she's got to take a step back and, as she gets into her car she picks up her cellphone and makes a call.

"Hello, is this the Stamford Eagle Gazette?"

The next two days are a whirlwind. Rory makes calls, sends out resumes and eventually goes to the Gazette itself, determined to find any kind of job. After leaving her portfolio on the boss's desk and delighting the staff with a cup of perfect coffee (Rory's had years of training) she walks away with a job. To say it's low-paid is the understatement of the century but it's a writing job and, when the boss of the Gazette returned Rory's call he told her to ignore Mitchum Huntzberger. Supposedly there's a big club of people who've had his disapproval, Rory is a sharp kid and anybody would be lucky to have her. Rory can't thank him enough. The leaden weight in her stomach is starting to lift. For months she carried it around, almost believing Mitchum, and Rory pictures Jess's reaction. That guy's an asshole. Her happiness fades slightly, thinking of him and his disappointment in her. Jess being disappointed felt worse than anything Mitchum said. Rory takes a deep breath, dispelling that thought, and decides to drive over to her mother's. Lorelai will be equally as thrilled as her daughter at the job. Rory looks at her cellphone, wondering what Logan would say, but doesn't call him. He hasn't tried to call her once but Rory isn't too upset. She's not desperate to talk to him.

Lorelai is more than thrilled after Rory tells her the news. She leaps up and down, hugging Rory tightly, and says, "Oh Rory! You really did it!"

"Yes! It pays less than I'll spend on gas to get there, but it's a job! A writing job!"

"Rory!" Lorelai jumps up and down Rory joins her, laughing. It feels good. They manage to sober enough to sit and drink the coffee Lorelai made and, as Rory drinks, her mother says, "I was starting to get worried about you for a while there. You seemed to be more at the DAR than you were at school."

"I know," Rory says quietly. "I'm sorry."

"Do you really enjoy all that stuff? I ran from that world as fast as I could and I guess I just assumed you'd be running with me."

"I enjoyed it for a while," Rory muses. "I don't know. I'm not so sure now."

Lorelai smiles at her, her eyes teary and says, "You look so much brighter than I remembered."

"Than you remembered?" Rory laughs. "I only saw you last week."

"I know - I can't explain it," Lorelai says. "You just do."

Rory smiles back, thinking she understands. They sip coffee for a moment and then Lorelai says, "Can I ask what brought on this change of heart? I thought you were all set to join the DAR."

Rory's chest clenches as she looks down. "I was so mixed up."

"I know you were," Lorelai says gently. "I wanted to help you."

"I know you did."

"I didn't know how," Lorelai says. "I'm sorry."

"Mom, it's not your fault. It's me, it's my life. I was stupid."

"No, I was stupid."

"I was more stupid."

"Oh boy, it's time for you to get back to Yale," Lorelai says. She leans over to hug Rory and Rory squeezes her tightly back. She should tell her about Jess, she thinks, but her courage falters. Lorelai has always hated him and she'll have questions Rory won't be able to answer. Is he back in her life? Should she expect to hear about him again? Rory simply doesn't know but her mother won't accept that. How can Rory tell her when she doesn't even know what Jess talking to her means? Really, Rory knows, she's afraid to, but right now all she wants is to be happy with Lorelai. She hugs her tighter, says, "Love you, Mom," and Lorelai hugs her back, holding her close.

"Oh kid...you have no idea."