Chapter 31

'I'm home!' Lorelai sang as she walked into the house the next afternoon and frowned at the lack of response. Teenagers, she thought.

She headed into the kitchen, already thinking about takeout menus and the laundry she should've done yesterday. Kicking her shoes away, she started talking at no one in particular. 'I hate being an adult. I hate job interviews. I hate tight shoes and tight jackets and bad hair days. And I hate Mondays. My God, if I have to sit through –' The sight in the kitchen made her stop abruptly. She narrowed her eyes. 'Jess?'

The kitchen was still, of course, a cluttered mess of shoes, bags and various summer clothes. Most items were piled onto a chair by the kitchen table and various pairs of shoes still dotted the floor, while the bigger items were still on the counter. Unbothered by all the chaos was Jess, who had taken up a chair and stretched his palms across the kitchen table with a book in one hand.

Upon Lorelai's call, he looked up in annoyance, dropping the pen he'd been chewing on. 'Yeah?'

'How come you're here?' She asked suspiciously, eying Rory's closed door.

'Here as in …?' He trailed.

'Here as in kitchen.' She replied, gesturing around. 'Where's Rory?'

He eyed Rory's door. 'Still at school.'

Lorelai walked over to check her daughter's room, which looked like it'd survived a tornado last night. Apparently, Rory had taken out all of her anger on her books. There wasn't an inch on the floor not covered in books or CDs. No wonder Jess was sitting out here in the kitchen.

Lorelai closed the door to the messy bedroom and slid into the chair next to Jess's. 'Jess… Why does it look like an army of oompa-loompas trashed Rory's room?'

'Rory and I had a fight.' He said, looking at her like he really hoped she wouldn't ask for more details.

'Oh, so that's what all the yelling was.' Lorelai sat back in her chair. Her mood soured as she recalled her fight with Rory last night. 'Join the club, buddy.'

'We made up after.' He said defensively.

'And party of one again.' She nodded to herself bitterly.

He gave her an annoyed side glance and turned his attention back to his book. She noticed a pile of study material, mostly in Rory's handwriting, by his side. Had he been studying? Jess willingly studying? She made a mental note to share that with Luke later.

Jess wasn't a very pleasant person to talk to, but with the day she'd had, she was desperate. She needed to vent, even if it was to this nonresponsive moody boy. 'Did I mention I hate Mondays?'

'Today's Thursday.'

'I know. I just hate Mondays in general.'

He sighed, reluctantly looking up from his book. 'So… you had an interview, huh?'

'In Hartford.' She sighed, 'They said I was overqualified. Like that's supposed to be a compliment.' She scoffed, rising to open the cupboard. She removed various snacks impatiently. 'What if I wanted to downgrade and work as a receptionist at a B&B? What if, after 18 years of work, I realized that reception service is my dream job and I wanted to do it? What if I wanted to pull a Vera Wang? Who are they to tell me I can't pull a Vera Wang?'

'I don't know who that is.' He replied, looking a little bewildered at her outburst.

'Fashion designer. She makes wedding dresses, used to be a figure skater.' She explained quickly.

'Right.'

'But no, once an inn manager, you apparently don't get to be anything else ever. Never mind that there are no hotel manager positions open or that the job posting said they urgently need receptionists. Can't be that urgent if they're refusing people for being overqualified.' She started pacing around the kitchen table. 'God, with this fight with Rory, I just snapped. And sure, normally I would've taken pride in name-calling while being removed by security, but this hotel manager is apparently head of some hotel manager association in Connecticut, which sounds made up, doesn't it? I mean, why wouldn't I know about this? I was a hotel manager, why didn't I get an invite? Ugh, I hate fighting with Rory.'

'You should've told her. About her grandmother.' He said, then sighed. 'And anyway, weren't you buying that other inn?'

'Well, after the great Gilmore-Pinocchio show last night, it's either the inn or Yale. Or we pull a bank job. I'm paying a visit to the bank in an hour, so fingers crossed.'

'What Pinocchio show?'

'The strings and the puppets and the lies. My parents thinking that everyone in their lives are just puppets they can move around. It all stinks of a Pinocchio show.' Her shoulders slumped, remembering yesterday's fight.

Had they ever fought so badly? Money wasn't supposed to make things so complicated. Why was it so hard for Rory to just see Lorelai as her mother? The mother who should have the final say when it comes to money issues. She couldn't have really meant what she said. Maybe she'll come to her senses today. For now, Lorelai could do nothing but worry.

It wasn't a good sign that Lorelai was so visibly shaken. He should've known things would get bad when she lost her job. If anything, it was surprising they hadn't asked him to leave yet, what with her obvious money issues now. Had he been a half-decent person, he would've left already instead of leeching on. Clearly, he was overstaying his welcome.

And then there was this fight that was clearly upsetting both Rory and Lorelai so much. He had the overwhelming feeling he didn't know the whole story. This couldn't have been just about the grandparents finding out. It had to be bigger. But what could've gone so badly yesterday? And why hadn't Rory told him?

Lorelai cleared her throat, snapping them both back to reality. 'So, Jess, is there anything you wanna tell me?'

'About?' He just wanted to talk to Rory. When was she getting home? Why wasn't she here already?

'Just in general. Anything to talk about?'

'Nope. Nothing.' He ran his fingers through the pages of his book, fiddling aimlessly.

'So nothing at all?'

'No.' This was getting awkward. He dropped the book, got up and moved past her to open the fridge.

'Nothing that happened yesterday?'

'A lot's happened yesterday.' He said, still turned away. He picked up a carton of yogurt, realizing he was hungry, but then he noticed it was half-eaten and put it down, wrinkling his nose.

'Nothing about a person whose name rhymes with Dirk?'

Oh. Yeah, that. He'd almost forgotten.

He sighed, turning towards her. 'You know about that, huh?'

'Luke called. And then Babette called. And then Taylor called. So yeah, I know about that.'

He stared at her and waited. She was waiting too.

'So? What made you go all Hulk on our pathetically weak Kirk?'

'Nothing.' He said uncomfortably.

'Nothing? There was no reason?'

He stared at her and shrugged. He wondered if she might kick him out for this. She didn't sound mad enough. She wasn't yelling, not yet anyway. But still, he couldn't be too sure.

She sighed. 'Are you hurt? Your arm or your wrist or –?'

He blinked. She sounded… worried? It was a reaction he wasn't prepared for. It threw him off for a moment before he regained composure and rolled his eyes. 'Come on, it was Kirk.'

'Answer my question. Did you get hurt?'

He scowled at her insistence. 'I'm fine.'

'Luke said he pushed you off the bridge.'

'Again, I'm fine. Will you stop already?'

'Okay. Fine then.' She said, peeling away a jellybeans wrapper.

He went back to scouring the fridge for something to eat, as he contemplated just stealing a pack of red vines from Lorelai.

A moment later, her voice came up. 'There are pancakes in that aluminum plate. You can heat them up.' She pointed behind him, at the bottom shelf of the fridge.

He inspected the pancakes she pointed to and looked at her suspiciously.

'Don't worry, I didn't make them. Luke did. Yesterday, after you and Rory stormed off. I kept some for Rory, but she's not here and there's no point in letting them get all stale and soggy in the fridge so… all yours.'

'You always offer food before you start an argument?' He asked. It was becoming a strangely repetitive situation.

'Well, I'm not gonna starve you.'

'Guess not.' He said under his breath, transferring the pancakes to a fresh plate.

'Plus it seems to work so far.' She smiled amusedly.

He watched the plate go round and round in the microwave. When he looked back at Lorelai, she was reading a fashion magazine, barely acknowledging him.

He tapped his fingers on the counter, once, twice, three times. 'Okay, this is weird. Why aren't you saying anything?'

'Like what?'

'The thing with Kirk. I thought… I mean, about me staying here and our… deal, I thought…' He hated how his words stumbled disjointedly.

'Jess.' She cut him off and sighed. 'I just had a fight with Rory. I don't feel like having another one with you. Do you?'

'Uh, no?'

'Good.'

'So… that's it?'

'No.' She exhaled loudly, putting down her magazine. 'I'm going to impart my grown-up wisdom on you now.'

'You got a big speech about not getting into any more fights?'

She paused to think for a moment. 'Jess.'

'What?'

'Don't get into any more fights.' She enunciated every word clearly.

He waited for more, taking a large bite of the pancake.

But Lorelai seemed to have made her point and moved on. 'Now, Luke said we have to think of an appropriately funny and humiliating form of torture for you. I'd call it punishment, but that sounds too, ugh, dirty. I already had an awful morning and channeling my inner nurse Ratched is only gonna make it worse, so… you got any ideas?'

'Ideas?'

'Well, I could think of something, but it might take a while since, you know, Rory never beat anyone up so this is new territory for me.' She paused, then reconsidered. 'Although she did knock down an entire group of ballerinas during a town thing when she was seven. And she pulled a girl's hair in the second grade. And there was that fencing fight with , she never broke any one's shoulder.'

'I didn't break his shoulder. I don't think there's even such a thing.' He defended gruffly.

'Oh, there is to Kirk.' She laughed dryly.

He wasn't sure what to say. Lorelai could be very strange sometimes. There was no yelling, no anger, not like Luke. And none of his mother's passive-aggressiveness either. He couldn't figure out if this was a parenting technique or just Lorelai being Lorelai. He sighed. 'What is this exactly?'

She got up to pour a cup of coffee. 'You had a shitty day yesterday, Jess. I get it. I mean, not that I condone the fighting, that was dumb. And seriously, Kirk? Again, dumb.' She turned to pour milk into her cup. 'But you didn't mean to specifically beat up Kirk and I have a feeling he's not that badly hurt either. So, next time you're upset, just stay away from people you're likely to punch, okay? For now, I'm taking this as a stupid non-repeatable accident.'

He nodded slowly.

'I'll handle the town and Taylor and all that… but you need to sit and study.'

He couldn't believe how easy he was getting off. Lorelai was being unusually… well, kind.

'I mean really study, okay?' She emphasized. 'I made a big speech to Taylor about you acing your exam and it'll look really bad for both of us if you didn't.'

He stared at her, somewhat dumbfounded. 'Why would you do that?'

'Because if I win that bet, I get to bang Taylor's gavel for the next six town meetings. God, that sounded dirty,' she shook her head briefly, then continued, 'but I promise you, it really, really isn't.' She leaned against the table and got more animated. 'I just really wanna see him hand it over and look all pissed off and grouchy, like he lost the only symbol of power he has at those meetings. Plus, I can really shut him up with all the banging. I can't wait to see how long he can keep a meeting going if I keep banging every 30 seconds.'

He bit the inside of his lip to hold back a smile.

'So my point is… This is purely for my own entertainment. Nothing to do with you.'

'Sure, I can see that.' He tried hard to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

'Good, then I guess I should get going to the bank now.' She stood up and untied her hair, brushing through it with her fingers. 'Please don't beat up any neighbors while I'm gone.' She mocked.

He rolled his eyes. 'I make no promises.'

'Oh, I almost forgot. I told Kirk's mother you'd pass by to help with chores since Kirk has his broken shoulders. She said she needs help cleaning out the kitchen, doing laundry, getting her foot rubbed, that sort of thing… and I believe Kirk mentioned she likes lavender oil in her foot bath.'

He hung his head. 'Oh, you are so funny.'

'Just remember that she's eighty-five and if you punch her, she'll shrivel up and die and that probably counts as a capital offense.'

'Or a public service.' He muttered.

'Think of it as a way to build your self-control.' Lorelai said wisely.

He glared at her. 'You're enjoying this, aren't you?'

She smiled sweetly, chuckling at his reaction. Before turning to leave, she sighed, gripping the back of the chair again. 'Hey, for what it's worth, I don't think you have to call her. Your mom. I mean, no matter what Luke says, it should be your call and it's not an easy thing. I know I needed a lot of time before I could talk to my parents again.' Her eyes bore into him, but just as he was starting to feel uncomfortable, she flipped her hair and said. 'I'm so giving Kirk's mom a camera so she can document that foot bath.'

'That's not happening by the way.' He called out in response, but she was already walking away, laughing.

It was eight pm by the time Rory got home. She'd taken the last bus back home from Hartford and she was exhausted. It wasn't the studying at the library that had exhausted her, but the weight of the confrontations of the last few days. She didn't feel like talking or arguing or even eating. Her throat had been sore all day from all of yesterday's yelling. She just wanted to take a long shower and not think about anything.

'Hey.' Jess's eyes greeted her, the rest of his face hidden behind a book. It was that Hemingway book he'd mentioned to her, A Moveable Feast.

'Hey.' She echoed, looking around her room, which had been mysteriously restored to its usual, neat condition. A far cry from the upended mess it'd been this morning. Her face softened as she spotted his smile. When she landed on the bed, her face right in the crook of his shoulder, she felt her whole body relax.

'You smell good.' She murmured, adjusting her legs next to his.

'Oh yeah? Lavender's your thing, huh?'

'Mmmm. It's so good.' She rubbed her nose into his shirt.

He chuckled. 'It's better if you don't know how it happened.'

'Tell me tomorrow?'

He pretended to sigh, but agreed easily. 'Yeah, yeah, okay.'

She stayed there for a while, breathing in his skin and allowing her breath to slow down. He didn't say anything, only ran his fingers back and forth through her hair. She was strangely relieved that he never asked where she'd been, that he understood the need for privacy, for alone time.

She hummed a low thank you and he dipped his head closer, giving her parted lips a dizzying kiss. Turbulent as he was, Jess sometimes had this calming energy that she so needed.

Studying was usually how she tuned out from the world. She would get into this deep state of focus and push away all distracting thoughts. But today, her coping mechanism had failed her. Her thoughts kept spiraling back to her grandfather's disappointment and her mother's anger and Jess's words. Grow a damn backbone, Rory. She was supposed to be able to find a solution that satisfied all sides. There had to be one, right? But the harder she tried, the more it seemed like she was trying to solve an impossible jigsaw puzzle, where none of the pieces fit.

She could get a bank loan for Yale. It was something her mother had refused vehemently last night, but she might get her to warm up to the idea once she saw that Rory had a decent payment plan. Her grandparents would be harder to reason with though. It was clear she'd lose them by sticking with Jess. What if she only pretended to break up with him? What if they continued dating behind her grandparents' backs? Given how much he hated the initial low-key phase of their relationship, she was sure Jess wouldn't be too thrilled. And anyway, how long would they be able to keep that up? Was this a lie she might have to maintain for years? Could she even do that?

But then again, if she didn't get funding for Yale from her grandparents and the bank loan fell through, what other option was there? Her mother's inn savings? She couldn't live with herself if she used those, no way.

A gap year maybe? A year of saving up money and then going back to school. It was another option her mother had rejected. But an extra year spent together with Jess, a break from school and exams and stress, a chance to really live life as an adult… That sounded pretty cool. Then again, her mother had made some good counterpoints. She wouldn't be able to save much, for starters. Definitely not enough to cover Yale. There was no guarantee she'd get financial aid when she applied again next year. And then there was her college acceptance. Could she even defer her enrolment? What if she lost her spot at Yale?

Her thoughts circled round and round. No matter how good she was at rationalizing, it all came down to this. She had no good options. Every option she had was going to make her either lose someone or lose Yale.

College came first in her life. It was all she'd ever worked for. It should come first. Her plan was clear-cut, and it was solid. The choice should be easy. But lying here in this boy's arms, whose hands wove in her hair and reached so much deeper, it was anything but. There were no guarantees with him. No plan, no certainty. The ground was as shaky as they come.

She became aware that he was saying something. His voice was a low drawl, lazy and scratchy. She was so captivated by it that she missed the words he'd said.

She looked up in question.

He laughed breathily and repeated. 'I said, I think you should read this.' He kissed her temple, pushing the book towards her.

She shook her head. 'Read it for me.'

'Okay, so this is Hemingway narrating.' He cleared his throat and started to read. 'It made me feel sick for people to talk about my writing to my face, and I looked at him and his marked-for-death look and I thought...' Rory watched him read and tuned out the words. His voice was giving her butterflies. He could've been reading a grocery list and she would've been equally mesmerized. She snuggled closer and closed her eyes.

'Oh, jeez. Did I bore you to sleep?'

'No, no. I was taking in the words.' She whispered.

'Liar.' He snorted a laugh, then continued lightly. 'It's just… Can you imagine Hemingway being this insecure about his writing? Makes me wonder if there's any hope for the rest of us.'

She looked up, searching his face. He'd just referred to himself as a writer. Had he done it consciously? Something told her she was the first to hear this. Maybe he hadn't realized it either. Maybe it was no more than a subconscious thought. How would he react if she told him he'd be amazing at it?

Before she could decide how to respond, he moved on. 'Anyway, you're really gonna fall for Paris when you read this. Here, there was this part about spring and winter and…' He flipped through the pages one-handed.

She stared at him and blinked rapidly.

'Rory? Hey, what's wrong?' She heard the concern in his voice.

She tried to hide her face in his shoulder, but she was getting his shirt all wet.

She wanted to tell him about the fight with her mom. The decision she'd been trying to make all day. She wanted to tell him about her grandparents and the money for Yale. She wanted him to know how pathetically close she'd come to breaking up with him today. How he was right about her lack of backbone and her complacency and her ridiculous over-politeness. She wanted to tell him, but her face crumbled and all she could do was take a few breaths through her nose before loud, heaving sobs took over her.

It was ugly. She was ugly-crying and she felt like it would never stop. Every time she seemed to quiet down, a fresh wave of tears started. Loud and red and snotty, her breakdown was all heaving and sobs and shudders. It went on until her face was numb and her eyes hurt and her head was heavy.

She was aware that at some point, Jess had shifted her over so she was almost completely on top of him. His hands pushed her hair away from her face as he pressed kisses into her hair. He didn't say much, only wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her tightly.

'Rory. What… What's going on?' He asked. She could vaguely sense that she was freaking him out.

She shook her head, unable to say much. 'I'm sorry… I'm so sorry, Jess. I'm so sorry.'

Keeping his arms around her, he sighed and reassured. 'It's okay.'

'It's not. It's not okay. I… I'm so…'

She didn't know how long she clung to him, how long she cried. It felt like it went on forever, but finally, she was overtaken by exhaustion and succumbed to a dizzy, restless sleep.

A/N: Review please! What do you think happens now?