Conversation had been easy after that, casual and mellow. They had talked of school, their friends, their passions. It had been personal, but they hadn't achieved that level of intimacy again, and she was thankful for it.
Rory had revealed more than she had intended to, and she knew that he had noticed. She was uncomfortable with his words of comfort. She didn't need his comfort, and she wasn't happy that he had offered it. It was vaguely offensive, as if he thought she needed to be protected from the harsh words and judgements people made about her and her mother. She had always known what people said; it had been irrelevant, because she didn't care what those people thought. It disturbed her that Tristan could have the power to change that. And made her more than a little angry at him.
He had reacted badly to his own words, and she had been briefly and morbidly pleased that she wasn't the only one miserable. Her kinder impulses had led her to try and figure out what was wrong so she could make it better, but she hadn't been able to think of anything, and several hours later she wasn't much further along. The only thing that had occurred to her was a comment Paris had once made, about Tristan not getting along with his parents. It was reassuring that she hadn't been the only one dropping her walls.
The front door opened and closed, and Lorelai was soon peeping into Rory's room, silhouetted by the hall light.
"Hey," she whispered, "are you awake?"
The bedclothes rustled softly as Rory turned towards her mother. "Yeah," she whispered back. They always whispered when Lorelai came into Rory's room late at night; it made Rory feel safe, and small again, as if she could be shielded by her mother's body. Lorelai pushed the door gently closed, shutting out the intrusive light, and curled up on the floor beside Rory's bed.
"Sorry I'm late. Jackson insisted on drinking a medicinal bottle of vodka on the way home, so it took a while to get him there."
"It's okay. Is he?"
"He's fine. How was your night?"
"It was good. Tristan wasn't mean to me." He hadn't been; he had kept a polite distance all evening. It hadn't surprised her that he had grown tired of her, but the sense of loss she felt had shocked her.
"I'm sorry you have to do this. Not the debutante thing, that's fun for me, but the Tristan thing. I know you're still trying to please Mom, and I'm sorry she's making it so hard."
"It's not so bad."
"You're the sweetest kid alive. I know how you feel about Tristan, and I tried to think of some way to get you out of it."
"I have to go to all these things with him, I said I would."
"I know. But you don't have to go to your party with him. All you need is an escort. If we had been quicker off the mark, we could have avoided this. That's why, when I was in the diner tonight, I asked Jess to go with you."
"Jess." The Jess she had kissed, the Jess she still had mixed feelings for, was going to be taking her to the party her grandmother was throwing for her. Instead of the Tristan with the same attributes. Complicating a situation truly was one of her mother's finest talents.
"He said yes?" Obviously, since Lorelai was telling her about it.
"Yeah. Luke says he has a tuxedo Jess can wear. Yeah, I didn't believe it either. But Jess said he'll rent one."
"Well. I hope I don't have to get dance lessons with him too."
Lorelai laughed. "No. That was one of the conditions he made before agreeing to come."
"What were the others?"
"That he wouldn't have to spend all night with your grandfather, and that no one would take any pictures. I'll figure out a way around the last one, don't worry."
"Thanks, Mom."
"No problem. I'll let you get to sleep now. Night, Rory."
"Night."
Whew. Rory just kept getting more confused. A few days ago, she had been reasonably certain of herself, but now everything had changed. Jess was her friend, and she was fairly sure she wanted it to stay that way. She couldn't deny that there was an attraction between them, but it wasn't strong enough to risk the friendship they had been building. Tristan….
Probably wanted to go with someone else anyway. He had been forced in to escorting her, and had no interest in exceeding his duties. He had changed this year, she decided, become a nicer person. It was unfortunate that as soon as he turned into someone she liked, his liking for her seemed to vanish. He had been friendly enough, but there had been none of his usual suggestiveness, and she hadn't been able to detect any concealed admiration. Like she would have been able to spot it, she admitted wryly, being entirely too engrossed in concealing her own.
He was hot. So what? That was no big deal. In theory Rory could know plenty of hot, nice guys, and have no feelings for them beyond a mild attraction. Attraction was purely physical; it didn't signify a desire for anything more. That Rory had never met anyone who provoked this strong a reaction in her was entirely due to the fact that she didn't meet enough people. Principal Charleston and her mother were right; she needed to get out more. But if Tristan did want to go with her…. she wouldn't hesitate.
Huffing in exasperation, she turned over, and violently fluffed her pillow. Tristan didn't want to go with her. She had to accept that.
Rory had revealed more than she had intended to, and she knew that he had noticed. She was uncomfortable with his words of comfort. She didn't need his comfort, and she wasn't happy that he had offered it. It was vaguely offensive, as if he thought she needed to be protected from the harsh words and judgements people made about her and her mother. She had always known what people said; it had been irrelevant, because she didn't care what those people thought. It disturbed her that Tristan could have the power to change that. And made her more than a little angry at him.
He had reacted badly to his own words, and she had been briefly and morbidly pleased that she wasn't the only one miserable. Her kinder impulses had led her to try and figure out what was wrong so she could make it better, but she hadn't been able to think of anything, and several hours later she wasn't much further along. The only thing that had occurred to her was a comment Paris had once made, about Tristan not getting along with his parents. It was reassuring that she hadn't been the only one dropping her walls.
The front door opened and closed, and Lorelai was soon peeping into Rory's room, silhouetted by the hall light.
"Hey," she whispered, "are you awake?"
The bedclothes rustled softly as Rory turned towards her mother. "Yeah," she whispered back. They always whispered when Lorelai came into Rory's room late at night; it made Rory feel safe, and small again, as if she could be shielded by her mother's body. Lorelai pushed the door gently closed, shutting out the intrusive light, and curled up on the floor beside Rory's bed.
"Sorry I'm late. Jackson insisted on drinking a medicinal bottle of vodka on the way home, so it took a while to get him there."
"It's okay. Is he?"
"He's fine. How was your night?"
"It was good. Tristan wasn't mean to me." He hadn't been; he had kept a polite distance all evening. It hadn't surprised her that he had grown tired of her, but the sense of loss she felt had shocked her.
"I'm sorry you have to do this. Not the debutante thing, that's fun for me, but the Tristan thing. I know you're still trying to please Mom, and I'm sorry she's making it so hard."
"It's not so bad."
"You're the sweetest kid alive. I know how you feel about Tristan, and I tried to think of some way to get you out of it."
"I have to go to all these things with him, I said I would."
"I know. But you don't have to go to your party with him. All you need is an escort. If we had been quicker off the mark, we could have avoided this. That's why, when I was in the diner tonight, I asked Jess to go with you."
"Jess." The Jess she had kissed, the Jess she still had mixed feelings for, was going to be taking her to the party her grandmother was throwing for her. Instead of the Tristan with the same attributes. Complicating a situation truly was one of her mother's finest talents.
"He said yes?" Obviously, since Lorelai was telling her about it.
"Yeah. Luke says he has a tuxedo Jess can wear. Yeah, I didn't believe it either. But Jess said he'll rent one."
"Well. I hope I don't have to get dance lessons with him too."
Lorelai laughed. "No. That was one of the conditions he made before agreeing to come."
"What were the others?"
"That he wouldn't have to spend all night with your grandfather, and that no one would take any pictures. I'll figure out a way around the last one, don't worry."
"Thanks, Mom."
"No problem. I'll let you get to sleep now. Night, Rory."
"Night."
Whew. Rory just kept getting more confused. A few days ago, she had been reasonably certain of herself, but now everything had changed. Jess was her friend, and she was fairly sure she wanted it to stay that way. She couldn't deny that there was an attraction between them, but it wasn't strong enough to risk the friendship they had been building. Tristan….
Probably wanted to go with someone else anyway. He had been forced in to escorting her, and had no interest in exceeding his duties. He had changed this year, she decided, become a nicer person. It was unfortunate that as soon as he turned into someone she liked, his liking for her seemed to vanish. He had been friendly enough, but there had been none of his usual suggestiveness, and she hadn't been able to detect any concealed admiration. Like she would have been able to spot it, she admitted wryly, being entirely too engrossed in concealing her own.
He was hot. So what? That was no big deal. In theory Rory could know plenty of hot, nice guys, and have no feelings for them beyond a mild attraction. Attraction was purely physical; it didn't signify a desire for anything more. That Rory had never met anyone who provoked this strong a reaction in her was entirely due to the fact that she didn't meet enough people. Principal Charleston and her mother were right; she needed to get out more. But if Tristan did want to go with her…. she wouldn't hesitate.
Huffing in exasperation, she turned over, and violently fluffed her pillow. Tristan didn't want to go with her. She had to accept that.