Rory paced around her living room, biting her nails and furrowing her brow. She'd called Dean and
he was on his way over. 'I should have planned to meet him somewhere other than home,' she
thought. 'Maybe we should just hang out on the back porch.' She heard a knock at the door and
went to let him in.

"Hey Sweetie, welcome back!" Dean grabbed her and spun her around. "It's so good to see you."

Rory grimaced at the endearment as she closed the door, then smiled wanly at him. "Come on,
Dean, let's go into the living room. There's something I need to talk with you about."

Dean sat on the couch, a worried expression on his face, and Rory paced in front of him. "I don't
even know how to begin."

"Why not try the beginning?" Dean offered, his voice wavery.

"Oh, Dean." Rory sat on the couch next to him. "I don't know how to say any of this."

Dean turned away from her and squeezed his eyes shut. He knew what was coming. "Just spit it
out, Rory. I think I want to get it over with as fast as possible."

"You were right. About my friendship with Jess not really being friendship."

Dean leaned forward and gripped the edge of the cushion in his fists. "You finally figured it out,
huh? I was hoping you wouldn't figure it out until it stopped being true."

"I'm sorry. I really didn't know. I care about you so much; I didn't lie about it on purpose…."

"Rory, please." Dean interrupted her. He rubbed his palms against the rough fabric on the couch. "I
know you didn't know. I'm glad you didn't figure it out sooner." He stood up and walked to the
window. "I want to ask what happened to clue you in, but I'm not sure I want to know. Did he…"

"I kissed him."

"OK, I didn't want to know. Well. I guess some part of you had it figured out, huh?

"Dean, no, I wasn't thinking, I just..."

"Do you love him?"

"I think so. Not the same way that I love you, but…"

"You want him. Physically. More than you want me."

"That makes it sound so sordid."

"Yeah, well, forgive me for being a little bitter. I had this romantic notion that it was a good thing I'd
waited until I fell in love...but I guess nice guys do finish last, huh?"

Rory stood up and walked toward him. "Dean, it's not like that. I…"

"Spare me. I don't blame you. He's experienced and you're not. He knew how to make you want him." He turned to
look at her, his face stony.

"Dean, no...he reads, we have more in common..."

"Rory, don't pretend this is about his damn vocabulary. I'm not an idiot; how do you think I knew what
was going on? I've been feeling you want me less and less ever since he got here.
I've been watching you look at him the way I always look at you. When he flirts with
you it turns you on, and he knows it."

He held her arms and bent down until his face was inches from hers. "Just remember, Rory,
when you're in bed with him, when he's inside of you, giving you what your body wants..."
He stroked her cheek and Rory flinched at his bluntness and the icy sarcasm in his tone.
This wasn't the Dean that she knew. "Remember that some other girl got there first." He
pushed her away and walked toward the door. "Goodbye, Rory."

Rory slowly sat on the floor, stunned and wounded, and buried her head in her hands as he
slammed the door on his way out of the house.