Author's Note: Thank you all for the feedback. (Hiya, Nes! I thought you were dead- good to know you're still among the kicking....)
For those of you who follow the books that Rory reads in fanfics- or am I the only one?- "The Dangerous Lives of Altar Boys" is an amazing book, and I think everyone should read it. Also, I stole a quote from a Jenny Crusie book in this chapter, and those of you that catch it are exceptionally cool people. That said, here's:
Part Six
Rory floated through the remainder of her day. To her credit, this really had very little to do with her tentative steps towards Tristan-friendship. The day just lived up to its gorgeous-weather, good-breakfast-omens promise. She got a 100% on a quiz, Paris had laryngitis, and she was getting to a really great part in her current book- "The Dangerous Lives of Altar Boys". Her uniform wasn't bunchy, her socks weren't slipping, and her hair was on its best behavior. It was just that kind of sunny, kick-ass day.
She smiled radiantly on the bus ride to Star's Hollow, she skipped home from the bus stop, and she was humming a cheerful little tune and making herself some toast when her mother stomped in.
"I'm home, I'm grumpy, and we're one day closer to seeing my parents," Lorelai announced, stalking into the kitchen. "Explain to me why you're humming `Bizarre Love Triangle'. Clearly, today is not a New Order kind of day. It's a Nine Inch Nails kind of day. What's wrong with you?"
Rory thought about it. "Nope. It's definitely a New Order kind of day. But I could hum from the new album, if you want. Less catchy."
Lorelai considered it. "Okay. That's fair. So- you hungry? Burgers or pizza?"
"Mmm. Pizza."
"Sounds good. I'll call. You got a ton of homework, babe?"
"It's not too bad, actually." Rory smiled down at her toast. "I thought I'd clean my room."
Her mother looked confused. "Why? Do we need to make room for even more books? I'm telling you, one earthquake and you are a pancake-"
"Nope." Rory's grin widened. "You're not gonna believe it."
"Oh, oh, tell!"
"Tristan is coming over."
A sudden silence fell.
"...Mom?"
"Just a second, babe. My jaw is still dropped."
"Sorry."
Another minute of silence.
"Okay, all better now." Lorelai began to bounce. "Oh my God, what happened? Did you two get assigned to a school project together, one that will entail long hours spent together in relative solitude, during which you can get over your mutual issues and decide you dig one another? `Cause I can totally see that happening. It would be waaaay romantic." She sighed, dreamily.
Rory looked at her strangely. "Ah, no, sorry. This will be a romance-free visit."
Lorelai huffed. "Damn- it would make a good story, though, wouldn't it? Wealthy boy falls for girl from wrong side of the trust fund, girl rescues boy from choking on silver spoon-"
"Okay, you're a dork," Rory interrupted, grinning. "He's just coming over to see my "War and Peace" chart."
"So you say," Lorelai said, smirking.
Rolling her eyes, Rory skipped to her room. Perky as a squirrel, she flung open the door. It was dusty, piled with books, and littered with clothes, stuffed animals, and old homework. A lilac bra was drying over the radiator, her stuffed chicken Rosemary occupied a place of honor on her bed, and a week's worth of uniforms were kicked into a pile in the corner. It was a typical teenage girl's room.
And in less than twenty-four hours, Tristan Dugrey would be seeing it.
Tristan would be IN this room. Her room. TRISTAN would be looking in HER ROOM. With Rosemary and her still-damp lilac bra.
Good God.
Rory fell to cleaning with a vengeance.
****
Across town, in his family's spacious garage, Tristan frowned down at his car. His family's servants kept the exterior clean, but the interior was his sacred territory. It was a pit- a moving pile of rumpled school blazers, scraps of paper, and stinky sports equipment. Doodled-on school assignments were lost in a sea of candy wrappers, empty soda cans, and old gym socks. There was nowhere to sit in the back seat and the whole thing smelled vaguely like a goat. It was a typical teenage boy's car.
And less than twenty-four hours, Rory Gilmore would be sitting in it.
Rory Gilmore, the girl of his dreams, would be sitting in HIS car. And this time she wouldn't be nauseous- he hoped.
Good God.
Tristan fell to cleaning with a vengeance.
TBC
For those of you who follow the books that Rory reads in fanfics- or am I the only one?- "The Dangerous Lives of Altar Boys" is an amazing book, and I think everyone should read it. Also, I stole a quote from a Jenny Crusie book in this chapter, and those of you that catch it are exceptionally cool people. That said, here's:
Part Six
Rory floated through the remainder of her day. To her credit, this really had very little to do with her tentative steps towards Tristan-friendship. The day just lived up to its gorgeous-weather, good-breakfast-omens promise. She got a 100% on a quiz, Paris had laryngitis, and she was getting to a really great part in her current book- "The Dangerous Lives of Altar Boys". Her uniform wasn't bunchy, her socks weren't slipping, and her hair was on its best behavior. It was just that kind of sunny, kick-ass day.
She smiled radiantly on the bus ride to Star's Hollow, she skipped home from the bus stop, and she was humming a cheerful little tune and making herself some toast when her mother stomped in.
"I'm home, I'm grumpy, and we're one day closer to seeing my parents," Lorelai announced, stalking into the kitchen. "Explain to me why you're humming `Bizarre Love Triangle'. Clearly, today is not a New Order kind of day. It's a Nine Inch Nails kind of day. What's wrong with you?"
Rory thought about it. "Nope. It's definitely a New Order kind of day. But I could hum from the new album, if you want. Less catchy."
Lorelai considered it. "Okay. That's fair. So- you hungry? Burgers or pizza?"
"Mmm. Pizza."
"Sounds good. I'll call. You got a ton of homework, babe?"
"It's not too bad, actually." Rory smiled down at her toast. "I thought I'd clean my room."
Her mother looked confused. "Why? Do we need to make room for even more books? I'm telling you, one earthquake and you are a pancake-"
"Nope." Rory's grin widened. "You're not gonna believe it."
"Oh, oh, tell!"
"Tristan is coming over."
A sudden silence fell.
"...Mom?"
"Just a second, babe. My jaw is still dropped."
"Sorry."
Another minute of silence.
"Okay, all better now." Lorelai began to bounce. "Oh my God, what happened? Did you two get assigned to a school project together, one that will entail long hours spent together in relative solitude, during which you can get over your mutual issues and decide you dig one another? `Cause I can totally see that happening. It would be waaaay romantic." She sighed, dreamily.
Rory looked at her strangely. "Ah, no, sorry. This will be a romance-free visit."
Lorelai huffed. "Damn- it would make a good story, though, wouldn't it? Wealthy boy falls for girl from wrong side of the trust fund, girl rescues boy from choking on silver spoon-"
"Okay, you're a dork," Rory interrupted, grinning. "He's just coming over to see my "War and Peace" chart."
"So you say," Lorelai said, smirking.
Rolling her eyes, Rory skipped to her room. Perky as a squirrel, she flung open the door. It was dusty, piled with books, and littered with clothes, stuffed animals, and old homework. A lilac bra was drying over the radiator, her stuffed chicken Rosemary occupied a place of honor on her bed, and a week's worth of uniforms were kicked into a pile in the corner. It was a typical teenage girl's room.
And in less than twenty-four hours, Tristan Dugrey would be seeing it.
Tristan would be IN this room. Her room. TRISTAN would be looking in HER ROOM. With Rosemary and her still-damp lilac bra.
Good God.
Rory fell to cleaning with a vengeance.
****
Across town, in his family's spacious garage, Tristan frowned down at his car. His family's servants kept the exterior clean, but the interior was his sacred territory. It was a pit- a moving pile of rumpled school blazers, scraps of paper, and stinky sports equipment. Doodled-on school assignments were lost in a sea of candy wrappers, empty soda cans, and old gym socks. There was nowhere to sit in the back seat and the whole thing smelled vaguely like a goat. It was a typical teenage boy's car.
And less than twenty-four hours, Rory Gilmore would be sitting in it.
Rory Gilmore, the girl of his dreams, would be sitting in HIS car. And this time she wouldn't be nauseous- he hoped.
Good God.
Tristan fell to cleaning with a vengeance.
TBC