*****
Rory paused, casting about in her mind for something to say. The purpose of the call was fulfilled, but she didn't want to hang up. She wouldn't see him until her party the next weekend, the night she had promised herself she would confront him. She didn't want to do that. She wanted him to take the damn hint - one of the score she had thrown him since their date - so she could stop squirming in embarrassment. She had to say something.
"Want to do something next Friday?" Oh, dear God, why had she said that? How could she be more obvious? Confront him? Tell him how she felt? She had done it thirty times already. And she would do it thirty more, she admitted reluctantly. Which was why she needed him to tell her to back off. So far, he had ignored any suggestion she had made, so she wasn't sure if he knew she was making them. Maybe he wasn't making excuses; maybe he really had been preternaturally busy lately. It wasn't outside the realm of possibility. But surely, if he had any interest in her whatsoever, he would have accepted one of her invitations, or countered with one of his own. Maybe this time.
*****
"I'm sorry, I'm busy. I have to go to this thing with my parents. What are you doing?" Friendly, she was just being friendly. He had had to remind himself of that a lot more often lately. She was so infuriatingly ambiguous. He had to remind himself that he was reading things into her words, her looks, that she had no intention of projecting. The nervous glances she threw him, her uncertainty, were because he was the first male friend she had ever had, not because she was hiding anything--or suggesting anything, despite his fantasies.
"I don't know yet. I just thought you might like to do something."
Or maybe she was. "Oh. Oh. Well, I would, but I can't. I'm sorry."
"No problem. I'll see you Saturday anyway, right?"
"Right." She wanted to go out with him. Maybe not in exactly the way he wanted, but still.... "Hey, you want to go together?" Say yes, say yes.
"What?"
"To your grandmother's. You need an escort?" Please.
"Oh. I have one. That'd be really nice, but, I already agreed to go with, um--my mom's boyfriend's nephew. I'm really sorry." A family thing, he understood that, although--
"I didn't think Lorelai had a boyfriend."
"Well, date."
"Who?"
"Luke."
"From the diner. Jess. You're going with Jess." He swallowed, desperately trying to quell the bile rising in his throat. This was why hope was an evil, wicked thing.
"Yeah."
"Well, I'm sure I'll see you there. I have to go."
"Wai--"
He replaced the handset, ignoring her spluttering protests.
*****
His routes to class became labyrinthine; he was so used to hovering around her that it took an effort to prevent his feet from wandering in her direction.
He considered not showing at her party, but he would have had to explain it to his parents, and couldn't think of a valid excuse. He needed a date, couldn't watch her with Jess alone, but none of the fluttering girls hoping for an invitation took his fancy. He knew that he had to move on, and asked Louise, pleased by her cool acceptance.
He strolled around in a daze, Louise by his side, prodding him along. He drifted across the grass, making his way to the building.
She was sitting on a bench, her hair floating in the wind, her head bent over a sandwich. She was chewing on her lip, tearing at the bread. Louise was two steps behind him.
*****
She had taken her lunch to the courtyard, drawn her blazer closed against the chilly breeze. The trees were still bare, but there was a new crispness in the air, indicating change just around the corner.
There was a doubt at the back of her mind. While it was possible he was jealous, she might not be seeing him around because he had previously taken the trouble to seek her out, and didn't care enough to do that anymore. If she discovered where he was now, maybe she would find him surrounded by his usual followers, happily plucking a random girl from the masses for an hour, two if she was lucky. He might not be thinking of her at all. But, maybe he was.
It was stupid to sit agonizing over him. He had never spent this long analyzing their relationship in his life. His relationship with any girl. She was even allowing him to distract her from her food.
Sliding forward to return indoors, she froze. He hadn't seen her. He was looking back over his shoulder, laughing, the wind in his hair. Louise ran up, ducking under his arm, pushing him towards the doors. He was touching her waist, smiling down at her.
Maybe she'd just stay right here.
Rory paused, casting about in her mind for something to say. The purpose of the call was fulfilled, but she didn't want to hang up. She wouldn't see him until her party the next weekend, the night she had promised herself she would confront him. She didn't want to do that. She wanted him to take the damn hint - one of the score she had thrown him since their date - so she could stop squirming in embarrassment. She had to say something.
"Want to do something next Friday?" Oh, dear God, why had she said that? How could she be more obvious? Confront him? Tell him how she felt? She had done it thirty times already. And she would do it thirty more, she admitted reluctantly. Which was why she needed him to tell her to back off. So far, he had ignored any suggestion she had made, so she wasn't sure if he knew she was making them. Maybe he wasn't making excuses; maybe he really had been preternaturally busy lately. It wasn't outside the realm of possibility. But surely, if he had any interest in her whatsoever, he would have accepted one of her invitations, or countered with one of his own. Maybe this time.
*****
"I'm sorry, I'm busy. I have to go to this thing with my parents. What are you doing?" Friendly, she was just being friendly. He had had to remind himself of that a lot more often lately. She was so infuriatingly ambiguous. He had to remind himself that he was reading things into her words, her looks, that she had no intention of projecting. The nervous glances she threw him, her uncertainty, were because he was the first male friend she had ever had, not because she was hiding anything--or suggesting anything, despite his fantasies.
"I don't know yet. I just thought you might like to do something."
Or maybe she was. "Oh. Oh. Well, I would, but I can't. I'm sorry."
"No problem. I'll see you Saturday anyway, right?"
"Right." She wanted to go out with him. Maybe not in exactly the way he wanted, but still.... "Hey, you want to go together?" Say yes, say yes.
"What?"
"To your grandmother's. You need an escort?" Please.
"Oh. I have one. That'd be really nice, but, I already agreed to go with, um--my mom's boyfriend's nephew. I'm really sorry." A family thing, he understood that, although--
"I didn't think Lorelai had a boyfriend."
"Well, date."
"Who?"
"Luke."
"From the diner. Jess. You're going with Jess." He swallowed, desperately trying to quell the bile rising in his throat. This was why hope was an evil, wicked thing.
"Yeah."
"Well, I'm sure I'll see you there. I have to go."
"Wai--"
He replaced the handset, ignoring her spluttering protests.
*****
His routes to class became labyrinthine; he was so used to hovering around her that it took an effort to prevent his feet from wandering in her direction.
He considered not showing at her party, but he would have had to explain it to his parents, and couldn't think of a valid excuse. He needed a date, couldn't watch her with Jess alone, but none of the fluttering girls hoping for an invitation took his fancy. He knew that he had to move on, and asked Louise, pleased by her cool acceptance.
He strolled around in a daze, Louise by his side, prodding him along. He drifted across the grass, making his way to the building.
She was sitting on a bench, her hair floating in the wind, her head bent over a sandwich. She was chewing on her lip, tearing at the bread. Louise was two steps behind him.
*****
She had taken her lunch to the courtyard, drawn her blazer closed against the chilly breeze. The trees were still bare, but there was a new crispness in the air, indicating change just around the corner.
There was a doubt at the back of her mind. While it was possible he was jealous, she might not be seeing him around because he had previously taken the trouble to seek her out, and didn't care enough to do that anymore. If she discovered where he was now, maybe she would find him surrounded by his usual followers, happily plucking a random girl from the masses for an hour, two if she was lucky. He might not be thinking of her at all. But, maybe he was.
It was stupid to sit agonizing over him. He had never spent this long analyzing their relationship in his life. His relationship with any girl. She was even allowing him to distract her from her food.
Sliding forward to return indoors, she froze. He hadn't seen her. He was looking back over his shoulder, laughing, the wind in his hair. Louise ran up, ducking under his arm, pushing him towards the doors. He was touching her waist, smiling down at her.
Maybe she'd just stay right here.