Two years. It's been two years since I last stepped through the
immaculate halls of Chilton. Two years since I was sent to military school.
Get into a few scrapes, father throws you in boot camp. His way of
"handling" problems. I was out of there as soon as I turned 18. Last
Tuesday. Leaning my back against a locker I glance around for that face.
The one that continuously haunted my dreams when I was away.
"Oh, it's you."
I look at the girl who walked up to the locker next to me. It's comforting to realize a person can leave for two years and come back to be confronted by the same angry sullen Paris.
"So, miss me?" I question, leaning forward in her personal space, throwing her a patented "Tristan" grin as she spins her combination in the dial.
"Rory wasn't in school today." She shoots back, not missing a beat.
I shrug my shoulders nonchalantly, "What makes you think I'm looking for Mary?"
Paris stops shoving her books in her locker long enough to give me the "look". The one that says you are an inferior human being with a small brain capacity, so I'm going to talk to you real slow, using monosyllabic words. Yup, she didn't change at all.
"I missed you Paris." I wink flirtatiously at her.
"Please, let us not insult my intelligence." She replies bitingly, as she slams her locker shut.
Without sparing me a second glance she walks away.
Inwardly I shrug. It seems the same stick is still shoved up very high in her ass. Straightening up, I walk out of the hall. There's no reason for me to stay. I'll come back another day. I have time.
----------------------
Rory walked to her fourth period wondering who she would be able to borrow notes from for world history. She had established a tremulous relationship with Paris over the past two years that she wasn't sure was up to the note borrowing level. Sighing to herself she looked up from her reverie to face a person she knew well.
"Tristan?" She asked in surprise, as the guy in front of her stood up and began to walk towards her.
"Hey Mary." He smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Surprise."
Rory stared at Tristan in shock. This was not the Tristan she remembered. Well it was, but there was something she couldn't put her finger on. Something that changed. He still had that same sardonic grin that teased and flirted with her at the same time, but there was something about his demeanor that was not fully disguised. There was a slight seriousness she
sensed in him that was not there before.
"What are you doing here?" She blurted out, trying hard not to stare.
"Well, you know, sent to military school, turned 18, left." He looked straight at her. "And here I am."
"I see."
"So, you and that grocer boy still together?" Tristan asked.
"His name is Dean." Rory answered. "And yes we are." There had been some tough times between them in the past two years, yet somehow they managed to stick together, settling into a very close comfortable relationship.
"Well, I guess I'll see you around." He replied.
"What? How? Why?" She questioned before he could walk off.
"I'm starting school this Monday."
"I thought you and your father, you know." Rory stammered, trying not to tread on a delicate issue.
"My father knew I was leaving as soon as I turned 18." Tristan cut in. "I'm still his son, and he still wants the 'DuGrey' line to be educated. If I behave myself and play nice, I'll finish my last semester here then go to college with his blessing and funding."
"Oh."
Tristan smiled and winked at her before leaving her in the middle of the hall. Standing there, Rory heard the bell ring and glanced at the clock. "Great." She said out loud in the empty hallway before scuttling to her class.
-----------------------
"Are you following me?" Demanded a strong voice before I turned the hallways corner. Turning around I looked at Paris.
"Excuse me."
"Are you following me?" She repeated, her eyes flashing, daring me to say yes.
"Now why would you think that?" I asked innocently, trying to provoke her into yelling. I seem to be good at doing that.
"Everywhere I go I see you." She accuses. "I go to my locker, you're there. I walk out of a classroom, the first thing I see is you. When I walk down the hallway you're rarely less then ten feet away."
"Why Paris, I'm touched." I respond. "I was beginning to feel you didn't feel you cared. Not like you used to."
Paris's cheeks became slightly flushed as I remind her of the feelings she used to have for me. "Cut the crap Tristan. What do you want?"
"I want you to go out to dinner with me."
Paris looks at me in disbelief mingled with suspicion.
"Why?"
"Why not?" I asked. "I've been at military school. An all male military school." I add pointedly. "Female contact is sorely missed."
"You still haven't answered my question."
I smile. "Rory was busy."
Giving me a venomous glare she turns around and stomps off.
"Why are you so mean to her?" A voice behind me asks as I continue to watch Paris retreat.
I don't answer her, refusing to turn around until Paris has totally disappeared. "I can't seem to help myself." I reply.
"You shouldn't be so mean to her." Rory informs me. "Things have changed since you were gone."
"How have they changed?" I wonder out loud, questioning her.
"They have." She answers back cryptically.
I step in her personal space. "How about your feelings for me." I ask flirtatiously changing the subject.
"Those have remained very much the same." She retorts as she continues on her way to class.
-----------------------
I discreetly watched him walk casually down the halls of Chilton, trying very hard to block myself from his view. I hadn't seen him in two years. Never had the chance to say good-bye, didn't know he was leaving until random gossip reached me.
I could honestly say I didn't harbor any feelings or animosity towards him. I had learned over the past two years there was no point in continuing my affections for Tristan. I guess while he was here I was blinded into thinking "what if". What if he could put his feelings for Rory aside, or she had never been here, or maybe if he just liked me. Could it have worked? And while he was gone I didn't see him everyday. I didn't have the chance to lurk in the corners of the school staring at him from the shadows. Watching him smile, laugh.
The irony of my situation is not lost on me. Once again I'm lurking, watching him. Always watching him. I didn't mean to you know. Really I didn't. But I was walking down the corridors on the outskirts of the crowd as I sometimes do, not really mingling with any of the other students and I saw him. He was with some of his friends who were now jostling his arm, no doubt telling him some stupid joke. I watch his face as he laughs in response. I tell myself that this is the last time. Kind of a good-bye you know. I never got closure, never had the chance to look at him one last time before he left. When opportunity presents itself to me, I take it.
His back stiffens and I know he feels me watching him. Turning his head he searches me out in the crowd with his eyes and stares straight at me. Our eyes meet but I don't turn. We're locked in a staring battle and it seems like neither of us is going to look away. Time freezes and I focus solely on him, not bothering to hide anymore.
"Rory." His eyes instantly leaves mine when he hears someone call her name. Like I watch him, he watches her. Turning around I walk away without bothering to look back.
I, Paris Gellar, of sound mind and health, hand over all my illusions to the next person. I'm older now. I know better. There are no "what ifs" in life. And there will always be Rory.
************************************
"Oh, it's you."
I look at the girl who walked up to the locker next to me. It's comforting to realize a person can leave for two years and come back to be confronted by the same angry sullen Paris.
"So, miss me?" I question, leaning forward in her personal space, throwing her a patented "Tristan" grin as she spins her combination in the dial.
"Rory wasn't in school today." She shoots back, not missing a beat.
I shrug my shoulders nonchalantly, "What makes you think I'm looking for Mary?"
Paris stops shoving her books in her locker long enough to give me the "look". The one that says you are an inferior human being with a small brain capacity, so I'm going to talk to you real slow, using monosyllabic words. Yup, she didn't change at all.
"I missed you Paris." I wink flirtatiously at her.
"Please, let us not insult my intelligence." She replies bitingly, as she slams her locker shut.
Without sparing me a second glance she walks away.
Inwardly I shrug. It seems the same stick is still shoved up very high in her ass. Straightening up, I walk out of the hall. There's no reason for me to stay. I'll come back another day. I have time.
----------------------
Rory walked to her fourth period wondering who she would be able to borrow notes from for world history. She had established a tremulous relationship with Paris over the past two years that she wasn't sure was up to the note borrowing level. Sighing to herself she looked up from her reverie to face a person she knew well.
"Tristan?" She asked in surprise, as the guy in front of her stood up and began to walk towards her.
"Hey Mary." He smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Surprise."
Rory stared at Tristan in shock. This was not the Tristan she remembered. Well it was, but there was something she couldn't put her finger on. Something that changed. He still had that same sardonic grin that teased and flirted with her at the same time, but there was something about his demeanor that was not fully disguised. There was a slight seriousness she
sensed in him that was not there before.
"What are you doing here?" She blurted out, trying hard not to stare.
"Well, you know, sent to military school, turned 18, left." He looked straight at her. "And here I am."
"I see."
"So, you and that grocer boy still together?" Tristan asked.
"His name is Dean." Rory answered. "And yes we are." There had been some tough times between them in the past two years, yet somehow they managed to stick together, settling into a very close comfortable relationship.
"Well, I guess I'll see you around." He replied.
"What? How? Why?" She questioned before he could walk off.
"I'm starting school this Monday."
"I thought you and your father, you know." Rory stammered, trying not to tread on a delicate issue.
"My father knew I was leaving as soon as I turned 18." Tristan cut in. "I'm still his son, and he still wants the 'DuGrey' line to be educated. If I behave myself and play nice, I'll finish my last semester here then go to college with his blessing and funding."
"Oh."
Tristan smiled and winked at her before leaving her in the middle of the hall. Standing there, Rory heard the bell ring and glanced at the clock. "Great." She said out loud in the empty hallway before scuttling to her class.
-----------------------
"Are you following me?" Demanded a strong voice before I turned the hallways corner. Turning around I looked at Paris.
"Excuse me."
"Are you following me?" She repeated, her eyes flashing, daring me to say yes.
"Now why would you think that?" I asked innocently, trying to provoke her into yelling. I seem to be good at doing that.
"Everywhere I go I see you." She accuses. "I go to my locker, you're there. I walk out of a classroom, the first thing I see is you. When I walk down the hallway you're rarely less then ten feet away."
"Why Paris, I'm touched." I respond. "I was beginning to feel you didn't feel you cared. Not like you used to."
Paris's cheeks became slightly flushed as I remind her of the feelings she used to have for me. "Cut the crap Tristan. What do you want?"
"I want you to go out to dinner with me."
Paris looks at me in disbelief mingled with suspicion.
"Why?"
"Why not?" I asked. "I've been at military school. An all male military school." I add pointedly. "Female contact is sorely missed."
"You still haven't answered my question."
I smile. "Rory was busy."
Giving me a venomous glare she turns around and stomps off.
"Why are you so mean to her?" A voice behind me asks as I continue to watch Paris retreat.
I don't answer her, refusing to turn around until Paris has totally disappeared. "I can't seem to help myself." I reply.
"You shouldn't be so mean to her." Rory informs me. "Things have changed since you were gone."
"How have they changed?" I wonder out loud, questioning her.
"They have." She answers back cryptically.
I step in her personal space. "How about your feelings for me." I ask flirtatiously changing the subject.
"Those have remained very much the same." She retorts as she continues on her way to class.
-----------------------
I discreetly watched him walk casually down the halls of Chilton, trying very hard to block myself from his view. I hadn't seen him in two years. Never had the chance to say good-bye, didn't know he was leaving until random gossip reached me.
I could honestly say I didn't harbor any feelings or animosity towards him. I had learned over the past two years there was no point in continuing my affections for Tristan. I guess while he was here I was blinded into thinking "what if". What if he could put his feelings for Rory aside, or she had never been here, or maybe if he just liked me. Could it have worked? And while he was gone I didn't see him everyday. I didn't have the chance to lurk in the corners of the school staring at him from the shadows. Watching him smile, laugh.
The irony of my situation is not lost on me. Once again I'm lurking, watching him. Always watching him. I didn't mean to you know. Really I didn't. But I was walking down the corridors on the outskirts of the crowd as I sometimes do, not really mingling with any of the other students and I saw him. He was with some of his friends who were now jostling his arm, no doubt telling him some stupid joke. I watch his face as he laughs in response. I tell myself that this is the last time. Kind of a good-bye you know. I never got closure, never had the chance to look at him one last time before he left. When opportunity presents itself to me, I take it.
His back stiffens and I know he feels me watching him. Turning his head he searches me out in the crowd with his eyes and stares straight at me. Our eyes meet but I don't turn. We're locked in a staring battle and it seems like neither of us is going to look away. Time freezes and I focus solely on him, not bothering to hide anymore.
"Rory." His eyes instantly leaves mine when he hears someone call her name. Like I watch him, he watches her. Turning around I walk away without bothering to look back.
I, Paris Gellar, of sound mind and health, hand over all my illusions to the next person. I'm older now. I know better. There are no "what ifs" in life. And there will always be Rory.
************************************