Pairing:
R/T, of course, and L/L
Rating:
PG-13 at the most
Spoilers:
May reference anything and everything from Season 1
Disclaimer:
The characters referenced here are the property of Amy Sherman-Palladino,
Dorothy Parker Drank Here Productions, and Warner Brother Television. No copyright infringement is intended. The characters are being used solely for
entertainment purposes, and no profit is being made from them.
Part 5: Spirit
Week, Dinner at the Gilmores, and the Apple Cider Incident
The
days at school flew by for Rory. Gone
were the days of dreading each minute she spent at Chilton. Although she was still not what might be
termed as popular, her friendship with Tristan brought her acceptance.
The
tentative peace with Paris continued, and her first few pieces for the paper
had been printed with very little editing.
The music column was getting a good response from the students, and Rory
had several people she had never spoken to before compliment her in the hall.
Tristan,
despite Rory's protests, was waiting outside the Gilmore house every morning,
and he never left school without her, regardless of what activities she might
have. Rory knew there were whispers
that she and Tristan were more than just friends, but she refused to
acknowledge them, focusing instead on how much she enjoyed his company. He was becoming something of a regular at
Luke's, stopping every morning for coffee before picking up Rory, and eating
dinner there at least twice a week with the Gilmores.
Campaigning
for Homecoming Court began shortly after the school year started, and posters,
flyers, and buttons crowded the halls of Chilton. There was little doubt that Tristan would be crowned King,
despite only being a junior, but the race for queen was a lot less
clear-cut. Louise was running, along
with several other junior and senior girls that Rory didn't know. The biggest surprise, though, came when posters
for Paris began appearing on the walls.
Somehow, Rory had never pictured Paris as the Homecoming Queen type.
Rory
herself was more concerned with whether the dress her mother was making would
be finished in time. Although she had
yet to tell Tristan whether it was a date or not, she admitted to herself that
it was. More and more often, she found
herself having a physical response to his mere presence. She got butterflies in her stomach when she
saw him waiting in the car in the morning, or standing next to her locker, or
saving a seat for her in the cafeteria.
The slightest touch sent shivers up and down her spine. When he would casually reach over and tuck a
stray piece of hair behind her ear, as he had a habit of doing, she was certain
her heart was going to burst from her chest.
There was no longer any doubt in her mind that she was falling for
him. Even though he had once confessed
to having feelings for her, she wasn't sure he still felt the same way, and she
was afraid to tell him what was in her heart.
Before
anyone could really grasp where the time had gone, the week of
Homecoming--Spirit Week--had arrived.
During Spirit Week, the students were freed from the confinement of
their uniforms, and allowed to dress up to certain themes. Monday was Disco Day; Tuesday was Pajama
Day; Wednesday was Movie Character Day; Thursday was Twins Day; and Friday was
School Colors Day. Much to her own
surprise, Rory found herself really getting in to the dressing up. Although she and her mother adored Halloween,
Rory never would have imagined feeling comfortable doing something like that at
Chilton. Tristan had suggested they
coordinate some of their outfits, and that only added to the fun. On Monday, when Tristan showed up at her
house in a white leisure suit with platform shoes, a la John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever, she almost died
laughing. Likewise, on Tuesday, when
she came out of the house with her hair in pigtails, wearing pink flannel
pajamas dotted with fluffy white lambs, along with a pair of giant pink bunny
slippers, Tristan could barely contain himself. Louise, on the other hand, wore a racy red negligee to school,
and ended up sitting in the principal's office all day, since neither of her
parents was home to bring her a change of clothes.
On
Wednesday, Tristan and Rory went as the Scarecrow and Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz, much to Lorelei's
delight. She even offered to sit in on
their classes that day, so she could dress up as Glinda the Good Witch. When they refused, she settled for surprising
Luke at the diner wearing a sparkling, poofy pink gown and a tall, pink crown
that looked like it was made of spun sugar.
For
Twins Day on Thursday, Rory and Tristan both wore white T-shirts, jeans, and
New York Yankees caps, which were the only things they both owned. Despite the relative simplicity of the outfit,
it was all Rory could do not to drool over the way the shirt clung to his
sculpted abs, how it accentuated what was left of the summer tan on his strong
arms, and just how well he filled out his jeans.
The Pep
Rally was Thursday night, and Rory found herself genuinely looking forward to
it. They were announcing the finalists
for Homecoming Court, and Rory was eager to be there cheering on Tristan. The finalists had been notified ahead of
time, which unfortunately meant that Tristan didn't get to sit with Rory. But when his name was called and he walked
out on the gymnasium floor, he immediately spotted her in the crowded
bleachers, clapping and yelling enthusiastically for him. His heart swelled from her support, and he
realized that if she believed in him, he was confident he could do just about
anything.
Tristan
was the only junior among the five finalists for King, while Louise and, to
Rory's surprise, Paris joined three senior girls in the Queen Court.
When
Tristan dropped Rory off in Stars Hollow that evening, he said, "Rory, I can't
pick you up for school tomorrow. I'm
really sorry, but I have some stuff that I need to take care of before school."
"Okay. Is there anything I can help you with? You know I'd be more than happy to do it."
"No!"
he practically shouted. Seeing her
surprised stare, he hastily said, "I mean, it's no big deal, and I'm sure I can
handle it. Thanks for the offer,
though."
"Well,
if you're positive…"
"I am,
really."
"Then I
guess I'll see you tomorrow at school."
"Good
night, Rory."
"Good
night, Tristan."
As she
headed into the house, Rory puzzled over his strange behavior. It wasn't like him to not tell her what was
going on, and he hardly ever turned down a chance to spend time with her.
When
Rory entered the house, Lorelei looked up from the episode of Charmed she was watching. "Hey hon.
How was the Pep Rally?"
"It was
fun. Tristan made court for Homecoming
King, and Louise and Paris both made it for Queen."
"That's
nice. Where's Tristan? He usually comes in and says hi."
"I
guess he needed to get home. He's not
taking me to school tomorrow, either."
"Is
everything alright? Did you two have a
fight?"
"No,
but it's almost like he's keeping a secret from me."
With
the sneaking suspicion that the secret involved Rory and some grand romantic
gesture, Lorelei simply said, "Maybe he's just busy. I'm sure he'll tell you all about whatever it is tomorrow."
"I hope
so. I think I'm going to go to bed now,
though."
"Alright. Sleep well."
"Thanks."
As she
lay in bed that night, trying to sleep, Rory found herself still worrying about
Tristan. What if he had decided he
didn't want to be friends anymore, and just didn't know how to tell her? He had become such a huge part of her life,
she didn't know what she'd do if she lost that.
* * *
The next morning, as Rory sat on
the bus approaching Hartford, she realized how much she missed having Tristan
drive her to school, even for a day. It
wasn't just that his car was more comfortable and convenient than the bus. It was the fact that when they were in the
car, it was their time, with no
intrusions or distractions. It was
those times that she was able to believe that someday she would find the
courage to tell him how she really felt, and it would all work out and they
would live happily ever after.
Tristan, meanwhile, was also
thinking about his relationship with Rory.
After dropping her off the previous night, he had gone straight home and
turned on his computer. Using a
graphics program, he made up a flyer, fiddling with it over an hour until it
was perfect. When he was finished, he
headed over to the local copy place—thank goodness for 24 hour Kinko's—and made
enough for all the juniors and seniors at Chilton.
When Rory had declined to run for
Homecoming Queen, an idea began to form in Tristan's head. In his mind, Rory deserved to be Queen—his Queen. The flyers he had made were now placed inside the lockers of
every student eligible for Homecoming voting.
In essence, he was staging a massive secret write-in campaign for
Rory. With a little luck, no one would
spill his secret to Rory before the dance tomorrow night. And with a little more luck, he and Rory would be crowned Homecoming King and Queen.
His mission completed, Tristan
waited by Rory's locker for her to arrive.
He hadn't missed the look of hurt and confusion in her eyes the night
before, and he was determined to smooth things over.
When he saw her walking down the
hall, her nose was buried in a book.
Feeling someone watching her, she looked up and met his gaze. Her beautiful face broke into a radiant
smile when she saw him waiting for her.
"Hey, stranger. Did you get everything that you needed to
done?"
"Yep. It was mostly last-minute stuff for the dance. How was the bus?"
She made a face. "Horrible."
"Why's that? The smell, the cracked seats, the rude
people?"
"No," she said, looking at him
intently. "You weren't there to talk to
me."
Although his heart was thudding in
his chest, he said lightly, "Aw, you missed me?"
Rory, in all seriousness, replied,
"Yes. I guess I did."
Trying to quash the sudden urge to
run down the halls screaming, "Rory missed me!" Tristan instead told her, "Well, I missed you, too. You, and Luke's coffee."
She smiled gleefully and handed him
the brown paper bag he hadn't noticed she was carrying. Tucked carefully inside was a cup of Luke's
famous coffee.
"Hey, thanks!"
"You're welcome. I just wanted to make sure you had a reason
to pick me up on Monday."
"You're the only reason I need,
Rory."
Surprised by his candor, she
blushed. "Thanks," she said softly.
Not wanting to push too hard,
Tristan simply started walking towards their first class, where they were met
by a room full of people decked out in Chilton's colors.
The day flew by, with even the
teachers getting caught up in anticipation of the game. Rory and Tristan even watched movies in
three of their classes. The voting for
Homecoming King and Queen was at lunch.
Rory had caught several people she didn't know looking at her all day,
but she shrugged it off, chalking it up to her imagination.
At the end of the day, Rory and
Tristan headed for the newspaper room.
In order to accommodate the football game at seven, Rory's grandmother
had moved dinner up to 5:30. Knowing
that Tristan would be driving Rory to the game, Emily invited him to dinner as
well. The pair had decided to work on
their homework in the newspaper room until five, so they wouldn't have to worry
about it over the weekend. Rory also
wanted to work on her next article.
Paris was the only person in the
room when they got there, and she greeted them with an almost-friendly smile.
"Hi, Paris," said Rory. "Are you ready for the game tonight?"
She nodded. "My whole family is coming to see me
announced for Homecoming Court. It's
too bad the Queen isn't crowned until the dance. I'm sure they'd love to see that."
"Well, for what it's worth, Paris,
I voted for you."
At Rory's words, Paris gave her a
funny look, and she felt a sense of déjà vu.
That was the same look she'd been getting all day. What was going on? She broke out of her pondering when the other girl spoke.
"Wouldn't it be wonderful if
Tristan and I were crowned King and Queen?"
Rory felt jealousy shoot through
her. It's not like it would mean
anything if it happened. It was just a
dumb popularity contest. She didn't
even want to be Homecoming
Queen. But the thought of Paris and
Tristan, dancing close together while the entire school watched and she stood
on the sidelines, made her blood boil.
Forcing herself to smile, she said, "Well, best of luck to both of you."
Watching the exchange, Tristan felt
hope rising in him. Could Rory be
jealous? Could she possibly be falling
for him?
The three teenagers settled in to
work on their homework, although Rory wished fervently for Paris to just go
away.
About halfway through their trig
assignment, Paris commented, "So I hear you two are going to the dance
together."
Rory and Tristan exchanged a look,
their eyes saying, this could be trouble.
"Yes, we are," confirmed Tristan.
Paris pursed her lips. "I thought you told me you weren't dating."
"We're not," Rory said quickly, and
Tristan's heart sank. Even though he
had never asked Rory for a decision about whether it was a date, he hadn't
expected such a harsh dismissal of the possibility.
"I see."
"Who are you going with, Paris?"
asked Tristan.
"John Sanders."
"Does he go here? I don't recognize the name," queried Rory.
Paris flushed slightly. "Yeah, he's a…sophomore."
"Oh," said Tristan and Rory.
There was an awkward pause, and then
Paris began gathering her books. "I
really should be going."
"Okay. We'll see you at the game."
Secretly, Rory rejoiced that she was finally leaving.
When Paris was gone, Rory turned to
Tristan. He looked upset, and she
thought she knew why.
"Tristan?"
He wouldn't meet her eye. "Yeah?"
"About what I said about us not
dating…"
"Look, I get it, Rory. I said I'd go to the dance with you whether
it was a date or not, and I will. I'm
glad you finally told me one way or the other."
"No, you don't understand." He finally looked her in the eye, and she
saw a quiet anger burning there.
"Then explain it to me."
Rory grew flustered. "It's just…I guess…I mean, even though we're
not dating, per se, I do, um, I
guess…I do consider tomorrow night to be a date."
The anger faded from Tristan's
eyes, and a look of utter joy came over his face. "Oh." He slipped into his
trademark smirk. "Does that mean I get
a good-night kiss?"
Rory's blush deepened. "Let's cross that bridge when we come to
it."
What?
wondered Tristan. No witty banter? Wait a
minute…she didn't say no! SHE DIDN'T
SAY NO!
"Yeah," he said softly. "Let's do that."
"Hey, it's five o'clock. We should get going."
"Oh, I didn't realize it was so
late."
When they pulled up to her
grandparents' house a few minutes before 5:30, Rory saw that her mother hadn't
arrived yet. That wasn't surprising—she
was perpetually late for these dinners, mainly because she didn't want to be
there.
When they rang the doorbell, Emily
opened the door instantly. "Come in,
come in."
"Hi Grandma. You remember Tristan?"
Tristan extended his hand, which
Emily accepted. "Yes, of course. It's lovely to see you again. How are your parents?"
"They're doing well, thank you."
"Good, good." Emily glanced at her watch. "Well, your mother's late, as usual. I thought perhaps she'd make more of an
effort, since she's bringing a guest."
"Who's she bringing, Grandma?"
"Well, I thought since you were
going to have Tristan here, I'd invite Lorelei to bring her boyfriend. Besides, I'd like to get to know this Mr.
Medina better."
Tristan looked puzzled. "Lorelei's not…" Feeling Rory grab his hand and squeeze tightly, he finished
lamely, "…uh, she's not bringing anyone else, is she?"
"No, dear, why do you ask?"
"Just wondering."
"Why don't you two go join Rory's
grandfather in the sitting room? I have
to see to some things in the kitchen."
When she was gone, Tristan asked,
"Why does she think Mr. Medina is coming tonight?"
"Um, Mom hasn't exactly mentioned
that she's dating Luke."
"But it's been nearly two months!"
"I know. I've told her to come clean, but you know how she is about
grandma."
He groaned. "This is going to be a long meal."
Just as Tristan and Rory reached
the sitting room, the doorbell pealed.
Bracing themselves for the imminent explosion, they quickly sat down.
When Emily opened the door to find
Lorelei and Luke, she was momentarily speechless. At last, she found her voice.
"Hello, Lorelei. What is he doing here?" The word "he" simply dripped with disdain.
Through gritted teeth, Lorelei
said, "You told me to bring my boyfriend, mother, so I did. Luke and I are dating now."
"And how long has this been going
on?"
"Since August 2nd, Mrs.
Gilmore. I've been in love with your
daughter considerably longer than that, however."
"I see. Well, come in. Lorelei,
please take Luke into the sitting room, and then join me in the kitchen. Rory and Tristan are already here."
Grimacing, Lorelei watched her
mother walk away. "I knew this was a
bad idea."
Luke wrapped his arms around her
waist, and kissed the top of her head.
Absently, he said, "They were going to find out eventually. I was planning on asking your father for
your hand when I propose."
Stunned, Lorelei looked up at
him. "When you propose?"
Rattled, Luke realized what he had
just said. "I mean, uh…Oh, God, why are
you crying?"
"I'm practicing."
"For what?"
"Well, I'm definitely going to cry
when I say yes. Then I might
scream. Or laugh. It depends on the day."
"When you say yes?"
"Yes," she whispered.
He kissed her then, long and hard
and sweet. "Go talk to your
mother. I'll find the sitting room."
"I love you."
"I know."
Steeling herself, Lorelei marched
into the kitchen. "You wanted to see
me?"
"Yes. So let me get this straight: you traded an elegant, handsome,
dignified teacher at a prestigious college preparatory academy for that
scruffy, flannel-wearing man who owns a diner?"
"That's one way to put it."
"Well, how would you put it,
Lorelei?"
"First off, Max and Luke are
neither baseball cards nor used cars. I
didn't trade anything. Secondly, I gave
up a pretentious, arrogant man who was pressuring me into something I wasn't
ready for, for a man that I love who loves me, who is kind and gentle and
caring, who loves Rory like a daughter, and who I am going to spend the rest of
my life with him!"
"I see. All right, I've heard enough.
You may go, but I'd like to speak to Luke. Please send him in."
"I swear, Mother, if you ruin this
for me I'll…"
"You'll what, Lorelei? Treat me with disrespect in my own home? Keep my granddaughter from me until I have
to use tuition payments to ransom visits from you? Despise me? You can't do
anything more than you've already done.
Contrary to what you may think, my sole purpose in life is not to ruin your life. I know I wasn't easy on you, but you are
still my daughter, Lorelei. I want you
to be happy, and safe, and secure, and loved.
And no matter what I may have in this life, you already have the one
thing I've always wanted. You have a
daughter that loves and respects you."
Stunned by her mother's passionate
outburst, Lorelei began moving towards the older woman. "Mom, I'm…I'm sorry."
Pulling her chin up, Emily resumed
her composed demeanor. "It's all right,
Lorelei. We're just two very different
people, and we have a hard time accepting that about one another. Perhaps part of the problem is that we're
more alike than either of us is willing to admit. You've done an excellent job with Rory; you know that. So perhaps I did something right with you
after all."
With tears in her eyes, Lorelei
hugged her mother. "Thank you,
Mom. It means a lot to know you're
proud of me."
"Yes, well, I have good reason to
be."
Wiping away her tears, Lorelei
began backing out of the kitchen. "I'll
send Luke in here."
"Thank you, dear."
A few minutes later, Luke
tentatively entered the kitchen. "Mrs.
Gilmore? Lorelei said you wanted to
speak to me."
"Yes, I do. I'm sure you think that I'm going to tell
you to stay away from my daughter, but that's not the case at all. I've seen you with her and with Rory, seen
the way you care for them and protect them.
Lorelei believes I'm little more than a pretentious snob whose only real
desire is to see her marry a rich man.
In truth, I want nothing of the sort.
I only want her to be happy. She
also thinks I disapprove of the men she chooses simply because she chose them. In actuality, Lorelei has never known real,
true love from a man. Christopher was
dangerous and exciting, but really, the only worthwhile thing he did was donating
half the genes that created Rory. As
for that Max Medina fellow, she thought I would like him because he was
'socially acceptable.' In all honesty,
I could never condone the fact that, as my granddaughter's teacher, he was
pursuing my daughter. Lorelei thinks I
disapprove of you, and it is probably to your advantage that she keep believing
that. If I like you, she might start
trying to find things wrong with you.
Are we clear?"
"Perfectly, ma'am."
"You love her, and she loves
you. I believe you'll be good for her."
"Thank you, ma'am. I intend to be."
"I'm not quite the ogre she makes
me out to be, you know."
"I'm beginning to see that."
"I'm glad we understand each
other. Take care of my daughter and
granddaughter, Mr. Danes."
"I will."
"Oh, and Luke?"
"Yes?"
"You may call me Emily."
"Thank you…Emily."
It was time for dinner then, and
the evening passed without the usual stinging barbs and remarks between Lorelei
and Emily. When it was time for Tristan
and Rory to leave for the game, her grandmother walked them to the door.
"Have a wonderful time at the game,
and make sure to take lots of pictures at the dance tomorrow."
"We will, Grandma."
"Thank you for dinner, Mrs.
Gilmore. It was delicious."
"We're glad you could come. You'll have to join us again in the future."
"I'd like that, ma'am."
Rory and Tristan finally made their
exit, and as they walked to the car, he commented, "That wasn't so bad."
Rory laughed. "You must bring me good luck. That's the most peaceful dinner we've ever
had there!"
"You know I'd happily come every
week if it would help."
"Tristan, don't your parents ever
wonder why you're gone so often?"
His face grew sober. "My parents and I aren't exactly close. They travel a lot, mostly for my dad's
business. They probably only spend two
months of the year at our house. It's
really not much of a family."
Instinctively, Rory reached for his
hand. "Then we'll be your family."
Her eyes shone with sincerity, and
he had to fight the urge to kiss her.
Quietly, he said, "I don't think I could ask for a better one, then."
Still holding hands, they walked
the rest of the way back to the car, then headed to Chilton. The parking lot was jammed with cars, and
they could hear the marching band practicing in the stadium. When Rory started to get out of the car,
Tristan held her back.
"Hang on a minute."
"What?"
He opened the center console and
pulled out a jar of blue face paint.
"We have to finish getting you ready."
"What is that?"
"Face paint. Lots of kids wear it. Come on, it's fun."
"Okay, I guess. What should I do?"
"Here, I'll put it on for you."
"Nothing weird, right?"
"I promise."
Opening the small jar, he dipped
his finger in. Reaching towards her
face, he said, "Close your eyes."
With a feeling of trepidation, Rory
obeyed. At the first touch of his
finger to her face, she drew in a sharp breath. He was so gentle, and she found herself imagining his lips taking
the place of his fingers. All too soon,
he was finished.
"You can open your eyes."
She did, then flipped down the sun
visor to look in the mirror. There was
a large "C" adorning her right cheek, while a small football and goalposts
graced the left. "It looks pretty good. Thank you."
Turning to face him, she said, "Now it's your turn."
He shook his head. "I'll put it on after halftime. They're taking yearbook pictures of the
Homecoming Court, and we're not allowed to paint our faces or spray paint our
hair."
Rory stuck out her lower lip. "Fine.
But I get to do your face later."
Anticipating her soft touch, he
readily agreed.
Once inside the stadium, they
encountered bedlam. As Tristan had
predicted, many of the students had their faces painted, and a few had even
sprayed their hair blue. Almost immediately,
Tristan spotted a group of his friends sitting near the bottom of the
bleachers, directly behind the cheerleaders.
Taking Rory's hand so he wouldn't lose track of her in the crowd,
Tristan deftly wove his way through the crush of bodies to his friends.
Mike, Dan, Charlie, and Tim greeted
the pair enthusiastically. Rory had met
all of them, having eaten lunch with them and Tristan several times, but she
knew she would feel uncomfortable without him by her side. Reflexively, she gripped his hand tighter.
The group moved over to make room
for Tristan and Rory, and while they were sitting there waiting for the
kick-off, Madeline, Paris, and Louise came strolling by. Louise was wearing a long-sleeved, navy blue
halter-top and matching mini-skirt. All
of Tristan's friends, whom Rory had heard make disparaging remarks about
Louise, still couldn't resist checking her out.
"Hi, boys," she
cooed. "Hi, Tristan."
"Hello, Louise, Paris,
Madeline."
Louise crossed her arms in front of
her chest and sneered at Rory.
"This is quite an entourage you've got, Rory."
Before Rory could respond, Tristan
said sharply, "Back off, Louise."
"Oh, isn't that sweet,
protecting your little girlfriend."
"She's not my
girlfriend," he responded quietly, a hint of pain in his voice.
"Oh, no?" Louise said
snidely. "Then why are you holding
hands?"
Simultaneously, Rory and Tristan
looked down at their hands, which neither had realized were still joined. It had just felt so natural. As the three girls stalked off, Rory and
Tristan reluctantly let go of one another.
"I'm sorry, Rory. Do you want to leave?"
"No, I want to be here. I just don't understand why they won't leave
me alone."
"They're jealous of you,
that's why," remarked Charlie.
Rory's eyes widened. "Why on earth would they be jealous of
me?"
"Gee, let's think a
minute," said Dan. "Maybe
it's because you've got Tristan here wrapped around your little finger."
Rory blushed.
"Yeah, all the girls have been
chasing after him since kindergarten," piped up Mike. "You're the first girl he's paid
attention to for more than a couple weeks. You're also the only genuine female friend he's ever had."
Embarrassed, Tristan said acidly,
"Would you please stop talking about me like I'm not even here?"
"Sorry, Tris," Dan said
contritely. "We certainly don't
want to offend the future Homecoming King."
As his friends laughed raucously,
Rory leaned over to Tristan and whispered, "Is what they said true?"
He nodded, and she seemed to think
about that for a while. Then, when they
all stood to sing the National Anthem, she slipped her hand back into his.
By halftime, Chilton was beating
Westhaven Prep 27-6. Tristan left to
get ready for the Homecoming Court presentation, and Rory found herself in the
unfamiliar position of being alone with his friends.
As soon as Tristan was gone, Dan
asked her, "So is what Tristan said true, that you guys aren't
dating?"
"Yes."
"Then will you save me a dance
tomorrow night?"
"I…I guess so."
Charlie whispered to Dan,
"Man, are you crazy? Tristan is
going to kill you if you touch her."
"I'm counting it on it,
actually."
Charlie finally began to get an
inkling of Dan's plan. "Well, this
should be fun."
When the Homecoming Court was
announced, the candidates for King and Queen walked onto the field in
pairs. After leaving the bleachers,
Tristan had apparently stopped to change into a white dress shirt and navy blue
tie, making him look more handsome than ever.
Rory's heart sank, though, when she saw that he was escorting Paris onto
the field.
Noting the look of distress on
Rory's face, Tim, who had been quiet most of the evening, spoke up. "You know, they pair off the candidates
alphabetically."
Somewhat embarrassed that her
emotions had been so obvious, she said faintly, "That's good to know. Thank you."
"I know we don't know each
other very well, Rory, but Tristan and I have been friends for a long
time. I can honestly say that he's not
the same person that he was before he met you, and that's a good thing."
Rory looked at him in
surprise. "And you think that has
something to do with me?"
"I know it does. Tristan always went after the popular, vapid
girls. Before you, he could never see
when there was someone great right in front of him, like Paris." There was a trace of bitterness in his
voice.
"Tim, do you like Paris?"
"No! I mean, we're friends, and, uh…she's just a really great,
uh… Okay, yeah, I like her."
"Have you ever told her
that?"
He shook his head. "She's always been crazy about
Tristan."
"Like you said, sometimes
people can't see when there's someone great right in front of them. Ask her to dance tomorrow night. She's going with some sophomore, and I don't
think she's too thrilled about it. But
whatever you do, don't tell her I
suggested it."
"Thanks, Rory, maybe I
will. Do you think maybe you could save
me a dance, too?"
"I'd like that."
"Tristan will probably kill me
for it, but oh well."
"What do you mean?"
He looked at her strangely. "You really don't get it, do you?"
"Get what?"
"Haven't you ever wondered why
none of the other guys at school have asked you out?"
"I guess I just figured it was
because they didn't like me."
"Rory, you're smart, and
you're pretty, and you're sweet. What's
not to like? But whether you two are
dating or not, you're both sending out signals that the other person is off
limits to anyone else. Tristan's crazy
about you, don't you know that by now?
And judging by the look on your face when you saw him with Paris, I'd
say you feel pretty much the same way about him."
As usual, Rory blushed. "I guess I knew," she said
softly. "It's
just…complicated."
"It usually is."
Rory looked intently at him, her
clear blue eyes meeting his soft brown ones.
"I know I should tell him how I feel, but I'm afraid."
"I know how you feel."
"Paris would be lucky to have
you, you know."
"Thanks. Let's hope she thinks so."
"I think she will." Leaning over, she gave him a quick kiss on
the cheek, just as Tristan walked up.
Anger and jealousy flooded him as
he saw the affectionate gesture. Who
the hell did Tim think he was, anyway?
Rory was his. He loved her. Why couldn't she see that?
"Well, don't you two look
cozy," Tristan said sarcastically.
Realizing he must have seen her
kiss Tim, Rory leapt to her feet.
"Let's go get some hot apple cider, Tristan."
"Okay." Casting one last glare in Tim's direction,
he began following Rory to the concessions stand.
When they were out of earshot of
his friends, Rory stopped walking and pulled Tristan aside. "You can stop sulking now."
"Excuse me?"
"Tim and I were just
talking. If it makes you feel any
better, he likes Paris. Personally, I
think they'd be good together. We were
having a nice conversation, and I think we could be good friends. I gave him a kiss on the cheek. End of story. So you can stop sulking now."
Tristan grimaced. "I guess I was sulking, wasn't I?"
"Yes, and it's very unbecoming."
"Unbecoming?"
"Sorry. After Friday dinners I start talking like my
grandmother. Look, you and Tim have
been friends for a long time. I don't
want you getting mad at him for something so meaningless. But just so you're forewarned, both he and Dan
asked me to save them dances tomorrow night, so don't go ballistic, okay? After all, I'm your date."
His eyes lit up at her words, and
he smiled. "Yes, you are," he
agreed quietly.
"Now come on, I'm getting
cold. I need apple cider."
"Not coffee?"
"This is definitely a cider
event."
"You know, there are other
ways to keep warm," he leered suggestively.
Unthinking, Rory said, "You
know a way to keep my mouth warm?"
They both stopped walking again,
and Rory flushed bright red. When she
wouldn't look him in the eye, he placed one finger beneath her chin and gently
tipped her face up to look at him. This
was it. This was the moment he had been
waiting for all this time. She wasn't
running away, and there was a look in her eyes that he hadn't seen before. Just as he began to lean forward, the horn
sounded signaling the start of the second half, and the two jumped apart.
I
guess that wasn't the moment after all, thought Tristan. "How about that cider?" he asked
softly.
Rory nodded mutely, and they quickly
got in line. A few minutes later, hot
beverages in hand, they made their way back to the bleachers.
They spent the remainder of the
game mostly in awkward silence. Rory
hadn't been uncomfortable around Tristan in such a long time, she almost cried
at the sudden distance between them.
The trend continued after the game ended, with Chilton victorious by a
45-20 margin. A few miles outside of
Stars Hollow, Tristan noticed that Rory was crying, and he immediately pulled
the car off the road.
"Rory, what's wrong?"
She sniffled and shook her head.
"Please talk to me, Rory. I want to help."
"I hate this!" she
cried. "I hate feeling awkward
around you! I want to be able to talk
with you, and laugh with you, and not worry about saying or doing the wrong thing!"
Afraid to reach out and touch her,
as he would normally do, Tristan found himself tightly gripping the steering
wheel. "I'm sorry, Rory. I didn't mean to upset you. I know we're friends, and friends don't do
what I almost did tonight."
"Tristan, it's not your
fault. In that moment, I wanted…I
wanted to be there, with you. But then
all of a sudden it was over, and I didn't know what to do. I just want to go back to how things were
before we went to get cider."
He grinned impishly, trying to
lighten the mood. "You mean when I
was getting ready to deck Tim?"
"Well, okay, after that,"
Rory said, managing a small smile.
"So are we okay?"
"Of course. We're friends, aren't we?"
"Yes, friends."
As Tristan pulled the car back onto
the road, they both felt a vague sense of disappointment that friends were all
they were.
When they pulled up to Rory's
house, the car radio was playing softly.
In his distracted state over Rory, Tristan had accidentally tuned it to
a country station. Pulling the car to a
stop, they both began to listen to the words of the ballad that was playing.
I'm so scared that the way that I
feel,
Is written all over my face,
When you walk into the room I wanna find a hiding place,
We used to laugh, we used to hug,
The way that old friends do,
But now a smile and a touch of your hand,
Just make me come unglued,
It's such a contradiction, do I lie or tell the truth,
Is it fact or fiction the way I feel for you.
It's so complicated, I'm so frustrated,
I wanna hold you close, I wanna push you away,
I wanna make you go, I wanna make you stay,
Should I say it, should I tell you how I feel,
Oh, I want you to know,
But then again I don't,
It's so complicated.
Just when I think I'm under control,
I think I finally got a grip,
Another friend tells me that,
My name is always on your lips,
They say I'm more than just a friend,
They say I must be blind,
Well I admit that I've seen you watch me,
From the corner of your eye,
Oh it's so confusing I wish you'd just confess,
But think of what I'd be losing,
If your answer wasn't yes.
It's so complicated, I'm so frustrated,
I wanna hold you close, I wanna push you away,
I wanna make you go, I wanna make you stay,
Should I say it, should I tell you how I feel,
Oh, I want you to know,
But then again I don't,
It's so complicated.
I hate it 'cause I've waited so long for someone like you,
Should I say it,
Should I tell you how I feel,
Oh I want you to know,
But then again I don't,
It's so complicated.
When the song ended, Tristan
flipped the radio off, and they sat there quietly for a moment. At last, Rory said, "I should go."
"Okay. Henry and I will be here tomorrow at 6:30 to
pick up you and Lane."
"Alright. I'll see you then."
She closed the car door and headed
towards the house, her very posture indicating her confusion and pain. Tristan leaned his head against the steering
wheel, berating himself for being such a fool.
She was never going to love him the way he loved her.
Rory slipped quietly into the
house, her heart breaking. Why was she
so afraid to tell Tristan the truth?
She knew it was partly because he had so much more experience than she
did, and she was certain she would look like a fool. She had wanted so badly for him to kiss her tonight. When that stupid horn had gone off and he
had backed away, she had been tempted to take his earlier advice and throw him
up against the wall and kiss him senseless.
She hadn't of course, and now things were all weird between them.
Her mother's voice intruded on her
reverie. "Rory?"
"Yeah?"
"Are you okay? You've been standing by the front door for
nearly five minutes."
"Tristan almost kissed me
tonight."
"Almost kissed you?"
"We were interrupted."
"And?"
"And I wanted him to. But now things are all strange."
"How so?"
"I think I love him."
"Have you told him that?"
"No."
"Maybe you should."
"I'm scared."
"Oh, baby, I know. But in this case, I'm pretty sure it's worth
the risk."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"Okay. Maybe I will."
"That's my girl. By the way, your dress is finished."
"Oh, thanks. I'll try it on tomorrow morning. Right now I think I need to sleep."
Lorelei kissed the top of her
daughter's head. "Sweet dreams."
"I hope so."
* * *
