These characters are not mine and I claim no ownership to the names or descriptions. This story is fantasy based on the established storylines of "Gilmore Girls."

(Sunday afternoon. Rory has just returned from working on her government project at Chilton. She was now sitting opposite Lorelai at a familiar table in Luke's.)

"You know, when you die, coffee sales will suffer all over the great state of Connecticut. They'll probably have a day of mourning and rename one of the major brands in your honor." Lorelai gives her a childish smirk as she alternates between drinking coffee from her to go cup, and out of the fresh mug on the table. "Well, at least I can look forward to that since they won't be able to bury me in my fabulous black mini as I had always planned."

Rory had been waiting the inevitable question since they sat down. "So... Any particular reason why I may never see that skirt alive again?"

"Wow Mom. Seven minutes. I believe this may be a new record on the Lorelai patience scale."

"I beg to differ. Remember the 9 minutes it took to ask Ms. Patty about that mysterious man she brought to last year's Christmas Festival. Families in this town celebrated for days by giving each other gifts and lighting candles.."

"Let me guess. Did this celebration last 8 days and happen to commence with the first day of Hannukah?" Lorelai feigns a perplexed look.

"Actually, things didn't go exactly as we planned on Tristan and Paris' date."

"And what, to liven up the evening they lit my skirt on fire and ran it up the flagpole?"

"Not exactly. You see, Paris somehow found out that it was my idea for Tristan to ask her out. The last I saw of her was her back as she ran away hating me."

"Not exactly the thanks you expect for a job well done. I thought Paris would be thrilled to know that you thought enough of her to have Tristan ask her out."

"Well, yes.. until she thought that I was treating her as a charity case. Now I think I may have jeopardized my only friendship at Chilton. And to top it off, things are even weirder between Tristan and I." She knew the second the last words left her mouth that she had said way too much".

"Wait a second. Did you just say weirder? What's with the 'er'. For you to add the 'er' means that things were already weird between you two. Why do I get the feeling that I'm missing out on a good juicy detail of the story?"

Rory knew that this was something that she should talk to her mother about. Normally she would have rushed home and divulged every detail the night it happened. But not this time. She didn't want to open this can of worms now. Especially when she was feeling this way... "So I heard that Luke may be softening on the no cell phone law."

Lorelai was momentarily confused. "Wait a second. You can't change the subject just when things start to get interesting."

"Sure I can. I was simply invoking Gilmore Amendment #8."

"Refresh my memory. What is #8 again?"

"#8 says that I have the right to change the subject when a topic at hand makes one or both parties involved uncomfortable."

"Well, I'm doing just fine. So spill."

"Well, I'm not. And I believe that I am the uncomfortable party in this instance. I am simply expressing my Gilmore given right."

"Darn. Whose idea was this silly rule anyway?"

"Yours. Right after I established #7 that says I can ask you absolutely anything that I want, and then I asked if Dad was the first person you slept with in high school?

"Did I ever mention that I'm a big fan of #8."

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3:47 a.m. Three minutes later than the last time she looked. Rory flipped over in bed for what seemed like the trillionth time that night. She couldn't quite put her finger on what was keeping her awake. But she knew without a doubt that it somehow related to Tristan. Tristan. The boy she would love to hate. Yet, even for all that he had said to her, and the way he made her feel, she couldn't associate hate with that name. Especially now. She couldn't tell her mother why things between them were weird. She couldn't tell her that Tristan had kissed her. And that she had kissed him back. The thought of kissing Tristan made her feel like she had swallowed a brick. There was this dull feeling in her stomach, not totally unlike the way she felt when she remembered breaking up with Dean. But this feeling was different. It wasn't a feeling of dread, or a feeling nausea. It was more of a feeling of expectation. A feeling of wonder. Wondering what it would be like to kiss him again. Wondering what she would have felt if she didn't stop the kiss when she did. Wondering why she felt the need to kiss him again. No! she couldn't let herself think these thoughts. She had every reason to dislike Tristan. He had treated her like dirt since the first minute she saw him. And she wasn't about to let a few decent conversations change that. She wasn't going to think about what it meant when he had told her he wouldn't continue dating Paris because he liked somebody else. She wouldn't think about the look on his face that indicated that she was the object of his affection. And she definitely wouldn't think about why she was so anxious to see him again in a few hours. No, she wouldn't think such thoughts.... 3:53 a.m....

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3:47 a.m. Tristan stared at the ceiling over his bed. It had been months since he was up this late. At least back then it had been for a good cause. Tonight, he just couldn't sleep. He couldn't get her out of his mind. He couldn't, for the life of him, figure out what was so different about her. O.K., that was a lie. He knew exactly what was different. She was perfect. She was the kind of perfect that made his heart skip a beat when she smiled. The kind of perfect that made his palms sweat when he was near her. The kind of perfect he had been waiting his whole life to see. And she hated him. He only had himself to blame. He had been every kind of horrible to her this year. And he knew why. She intimidated the hell out of him. For the first time, he had fallen for a girl. All of his life, he had been pursued by girls. He never really cared for them, but went out with them because they were there. Rory changed that. For the first time in his life, he felt what he had only seen described in movies or in books. He felt infatuation. And it had taken over. He had only intended to tease her the first few days. It was his duty. Everyone at Chilton expected him to tease the new ones. After a few days, he would lose interest and continue with his life. But not this time. Rory walked into his school completely different than anyone there. She was not rich, not bound by the standards set forth by wealthy parents. She was innocent. Honest. Real. He had fallen hard. He knew each time he upset her that he was crossing a line. A line he would never be able to erase. Yet, he could not stop himself. Now, he was in torment. She would never see him for anything other than the creep he had been. When he told her about liking someone, she may have picked up on his innuendo. But it didn't matter. He did not deserve her. She just broke up with her boyfriend. A boyfriend that had worshipped her, treated her with respect. He did not know the reason for the breakup, but he doubted very much that whatever Dean had done was anything near the evil he himself had done so many times. No, Rory was too smart to get involved with someone like him. Too smart to let herself fall for a hardened, cynical guy like himself. He didn't deserve her. He never would. But that would never stop him from wanting her, wanting to see her face each and every day for the next 2 years. Wanting to lie awake each night dreaming of what it would be like to have her.

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Rory spent the long bus ride Monday morning preparing herself to face Paris. She knew Paris was likely to take a long time to get over this. At least before when she hated her, she had at least spoken to her. Rory doubted that Paris would even want to be in the same room with her for a while. Rory spent so much time focusing on Paris' reaction, that she didn't have time to think about the awkwardness between her and Tristan. However, nothing could have prepared her for facing Tristan. She saw him out of the corner of her eye as he approached her locker. She half expected him to call her Mary and resume the cat and mouse game that had become so familiar. As she turned to say good morning, she was stunned as he walked right past. He had not even bothered to say hello. She decided that silence was far worse than anything she had experienced before. In that moment, she once again realized how truly alone she was at Chilton. She grabbed her books and heard the cold sound of shutting lockers as she headed toward first period.

To be continued...