Author's Note: Hey, guys! I continue among the living. Just lazy- but even I, Queen of the Procrastinators, realize that when I have to look up my own stories to remember what I've written, it has been a little too long between updates. Sorry!
On another note, some friends and I are hard at work on a website devoted entirely to reviews of pop literature- from the romance novels of the ancient Greeks to Nora Roberts novels. If anyone has a few favorite pop fiction authors that they think I shouldn't leave off the list, I'd really appreciate it if they e-mailed me with their suggestions. The categories will be Young Adult, Romance, Suspense/Action, Mystery, and Sci-fi/Fantasy. I promise to give credit where credit is due and would very much appreciate the help.
Chapter Ten:
A small bell tinkled as Rory opened the glass-paneled door to the ice cream shop. Tristan was seated at a round table covered with a pink lace tablecloth, picking at a tiny hole in the lace and scowling at the cow-shaped salt and pepper shakers.
"Howdy." Rory slid into the seat across from him, a tentative smile on her face.
Tristan jumped. He remained a little wild-eyed. "Hi. Uh… where's your mom?" He hoped that the naked fear in his voice wasn't as painfully obvious as he suspected it was.
Rory grinned. He still sounded terrified. "Don't worry, she decided to settle for some long-distance chaperoning."
"Long-distance chaperoning?" The utterly lost feeling was coming back. Tristan was beginning to associate it with entering the Star's Hollow city limits. Rod Sterling, he felt, should be holding up the "Welcome to Star's Hollow!" sign. Truth in advertising.
"Well," Rory explained cheerfully, "she *said* that she was leaving us to our own devices, but chances of that actually happening in this town are- well, I'd say 'slim to none', but I don't think they even merit 'slim'. There's no chance. I can guarantee that Lorelai's got her beady little eyes focused on us right now. She's over at Luke's."
Tristan looked extremely confused. "Uh- and I'm not totally sure that I want to know the answer to this question- but how she be chaperoning us from all the way across the square?" He felt a strange shiver run up his spine. "I mean, how good can her eyesight be?"
"You see that guy on the bench in the square- the one hiding behind the newspaper?" Tristan nodded. "Wait here." Rory got up, opened the ice cream shop door, and raised her voice to allow it to carry across the street. "Kirk! Your paper is upside down!"
The newspaper righted itself and a slim, masculine hand appeared around the edge. It gave a little half-wave of thanks. Rory waved back and returned to her seat. "That's Kirk," she explained, somewhat unnecessarily. "He's keeping an eye on us. He'll keep up a running commentary with Miss Patty- that's the woman leaning on the porch over there, smoking the Cruella DeVille cigarette- the one with the cell phone?" Tristan nodded again. It seemed like the safest response. "I'd bet fifty bucks that the tinny little voice on the other end of that cell phone is my mother's." Rory gave him her sunniest smile. "Lorelai Gilmore sees all, knows all. If I scowl, the woman that takes our orders will probably Mace you."
Tristan cleared his throat and squashed an inexplicable urge to sit up straight and smooth down his hair. "It's like the Mafia."
Rory gaped at him. "It is! I'm *always* saying that! And people just give me an indulgent little smile and tell me that I'm imagining things- well, except for Mom, who laughs her Evil Laugh and agrees with me. She actually *likes* picturing herself as a mob princess."
Tristan grinned at her. "Constant fantasies about ordering hits?"
"Yes! All the time! You should have seen her after the Headmaster yelled at me…." Rory's voice trailed off at the inadvertent reminder of their sophomore year. They'd managed to avoid those.
Tristan shifted in his seat, uncomfortable in the sudden silence. "So… what are you gonna order?"
"Hmm. A banana split."
"Sounds good," he said, nodding. "Me too-"
"But with no bananas. And no cherry on it. Those cherries are disgusting. Fruit has no place near dessert- or pizza." Rory looked very grim. "*Especially* pizza."
"A banana split with no bananas?"
"Right. Just a lot of ice cream and chocolate sauce."
"Then why-"
"I like the bowls they come in."
"...okay."
"Well, fruit is acceptable if the dessert in question is pie. Or jelly-filled donuts. But I stand firm on the pizza thing."
"There's fruit in jelly-filled donuts?"
"Well, fruit-based jelly."
"You honestly believe that?"
"Sure."
"A smart girl like you- that's almost sad."
Luckily, the waitress came at this point and took their orders, thereby averting a possible quarrel over breakfast pastries. They ate their ice cream, chatting relatively pleasantly about school and rolling their eyes over the first wave of homework. They parted about twenty minutes later.
As she waved goodbye to Tristan's sleek little car and skipped off to join her mother, Rory was conscious of warmer feelings toward her on-again, off-again school friend than she had ever felt before. She felt a little… tingly. As she opened the door to Luke's, she carefully schooled her features into an expression of nonchalance. No point in giving her mother any *more* ammunition then she already had.
As Tristan drove away, he began listing, out loud, all the reasons Rory Gilmore would never fall in love with him. No use getting his hopes up, he told himself.
No use at all.
TBC
On another note, some friends and I are hard at work on a website devoted entirely to reviews of pop literature- from the romance novels of the ancient Greeks to Nora Roberts novels. If anyone has a few favorite pop fiction authors that they think I shouldn't leave off the list, I'd really appreciate it if they e-mailed me with their suggestions. The categories will be Young Adult, Romance, Suspense/Action, Mystery, and Sci-fi/Fantasy. I promise to give credit where credit is due and would very much appreciate the help.
Chapter Ten:
A small bell tinkled as Rory opened the glass-paneled door to the ice cream shop. Tristan was seated at a round table covered with a pink lace tablecloth, picking at a tiny hole in the lace and scowling at the cow-shaped salt and pepper shakers.
"Howdy." Rory slid into the seat across from him, a tentative smile on her face.
Tristan jumped. He remained a little wild-eyed. "Hi. Uh… where's your mom?" He hoped that the naked fear in his voice wasn't as painfully obvious as he suspected it was.
Rory grinned. He still sounded terrified. "Don't worry, she decided to settle for some long-distance chaperoning."
"Long-distance chaperoning?" The utterly lost feeling was coming back. Tristan was beginning to associate it with entering the Star's Hollow city limits. Rod Sterling, he felt, should be holding up the "Welcome to Star's Hollow!" sign. Truth in advertising.
"Well," Rory explained cheerfully, "she *said* that she was leaving us to our own devices, but chances of that actually happening in this town are- well, I'd say 'slim to none', but I don't think they even merit 'slim'. There's no chance. I can guarantee that Lorelai's got her beady little eyes focused on us right now. She's over at Luke's."
Tristan looked extremely confused. "Uh- and I'm not totally sure that I want to know the answer to this question- but how she be chaperoning us from all the way across the square?" He felt a strange shiver run up his spine. "I mean, how good can her eyesight be?"
"You see that guy on the bench in the square- the one hiding behind the newspaper?" Tristan nodded. "Wait here." Rory got up, opened the ice cream shop door, and raised her voice to allow it to carry across the street. "Kirk! Your paper is upside down!"
The newspaper righted itself and a slim, masculine hand appeared around the edge. It gave a little half-wave of thanks. Rory waved back and returned to her seat. "That's Kirk," she explained, somewhat unnecessarily. "He's keeping an eye on us. He'll keep up a running commentary with Miss Patty- that's the woman leaning on the porch over there, smoking the Cruella DeVille cigarette- the one with the cell phone?" Tristan nodded again. It seemed like the safest response. "I'd bet fifty bucks that the tinny little voice on the other end of that cell phone is my mother's." Rory gave him her sunniest smile. "Lorelai Gilmore sees all, knows all. If I scowl, the woman that takes our orders will probably Mace you."
Tristan cleared his throat and squashed an inexplicable urge to sit up straight and smooth down his hair. "It's like the Mafia."
Rory gaped at him. "It is! I'm *always* saying that! And people just give me an indulgent little smile and tell me that I'm imagining things- well, except for Mom, who laughs her Evil Laugh and agrees with me. She actually *likes* picturing herself as a mob princess."
Tristan grinned at her. "Constant fantasies about ordering hits?"
"Yes! All the time! You should have seen her after the Headmaster yelled at me…." Rory's voice trailed off at the inadvertent reminder of their sophomore year. They'd managed to avoid those.
Tristan shifted in his seat, uncomfortable in the sudden silence. "So… what are you gonna order?"
"Hmm. A banana split."
"Sounds good," he said, nodding. "Me too-"
"But with no bananas. And no cherry on it. Those cherries are disgusting. Fruit has no place near dessert- or pizza." Rory looked very grim. "*Especially* pizza."
"A banana split with no bananas?"
"Right. Just a lot of ice cream and chocolate sauce."
"Then why-"
"I like the bowls they come in."
"...okay."
"Well, fruit is acceptable if the dessert in question is pie. Or jelly-filled donuts. But I stand firm on the pizza thing."
"There's fruit in jelly-filled donuts?"
"Well, fruit-based jelly."
"You honestly believe that?"
"Sure."
"A smart girl like you- that's almost sad."
Luckily, the waitress came at this point and took their orders, thereby averting a possible quarrel over breakfast pastries. They ate their ice cream, chatting relatively pleasantly about school and rolling their eyes over the first wave of homework. They parted about twenty minutes later.
As she waved goodbye to Tristan's sleek little car and skipped off to join her mother, Rory was conscious of warmer feelings toward her on-again, off-again school friend than she had ever felt before. She felt a little… tingly. As she opened the door to Luke's, she carefully schooled her features into an expression of nonchalance. No point in giving her mother any *more* ammunition then she already had.
As Tristan drove away, he began listing, out loud, all the reasons Rory Gilmore would never fall in love with him. No use getting his hopes up, he told himself.
No use at all.
TBC