A.N.: hahaha All I can say is...wow! I'm soooo close to the big 1-0-0. You guys are the bestest! Yeah, it's not a word, but I still like it. I'm not sure it can beat the last chapter, but here it is folks, a LONG chapter. As usual, R/R is cherished just as much as chocolate is (that's saying a LOT). Oh one more thing. Ahem! * trumpets sounding, red carpet rolling out * I would like to dedicate this chapter to my wunnerful (wonderful) beta/helper Alicia aka Gilmore Glitz for helping me through the hardest chapters and telling me to write even when I didn't want to. I know you're reading this cuz I told you to, so thanks again! (Now your name is published-well kinda) ^_^
It was deathly silent as she meekly shuffled over to the teachers. She kept her eyes trained on the ground, wishing not for the first time that she could sink into the hard-packed dirt.
They sat her in a wooden chair, pacing in front of her.
"So, Ms. Gilmore. Would you like to explain to us why you were out there in such indecent attire?"
"W-well, it was-they said-it was a dare," she croaked.
"A dare?"
Mutely, she nodded.
"Ms. Gilmore, I would've expected better of you, one of the top students at Chilton. You are expected to uphold the rules and regulations of Chilton even while on a trip. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Mr. Yarek."
"I'm afraid we'll have to report this to the headmaster."
Her head shot up. He couldn't do that! Her record would be scarred for life. Harvard would look at her and shake its head in disapproval, thinking she was always wild and boisterous. She panicked.
"NO! You can't!"
"Ms. Gilmore, I don't believe you are in any position to tell me what I can and cannot do."
Rory's eyes gleamed with tears unshed. "But I didn't do anything wrong."
"We know that, but I still must report it."
"But the headmaster will think it's much worse than it is. He wasn't here to witness it."
"I have a job to do, Ms. Gilmore."
She watched hopelessly as punched in numbers on the speaker-phone. Suddenly an idea flickered in her mind. "I suppose you could tell him. Of course, you WOULD have to explain why you and Ms. Wilden weren't there to supervise us in the first place."
Both teachers blushed scarlet. Someone picked up on the other line.
"Hello? Headmaster Charleston here."
Mr. Yarek hesitated and looked at Ms. Wilden, who nodded frantically. "Ah-Headmaster Charleston, I just wanted to let you know that all's well here at the junior escape."
"That's good, Bob. Is that all?"
"Uh-yes."
Rory could hear the suspicion in the headmaster's voice. "Alright then. I'll see you in three days."
"Good-bye."
When he had shut the phone off, he looked Rory and cleared his throat. "Erm, after further consideration, I feel it is not worth troubling Headmaster Charleston over. However, there will have to be some consequences. You will not be allowed to attend the dance the day after tomorrow as it is clear you need a little lesson in how to behave in public. Does that sound fair?" His eyes flicked over to Ms. Wilden.
"Perfectly, sir."
"Then you may go."
Rory nearly wept with relief as she scurried out the door. Her happiness was short-lived. Outside, she was instantly swarmed. Many guys were whooping and she flushed, looking for somewhere to hide. Knowing Paris, she would be in the cabin, and that was not her idea of a safe and isolated place. A hand was gently pulling her away. The door closed behind them.
She looked up with grateful eyes at her savior. "Thank-oh, it's you."
"Such enthusiasm, Mary. Have you ever considered acting?"
"If it'll get me away from Chilton and it's-inhabitants, I'm all for it."
He looked shocked. "You don't mean ME do you?"
"Of course not. I meant the other Tristan Dugray who's been my rival since sophomore year."
He grinned. "Well it was your fault, really."
"Excuse me?"
He grinned at her outrage. "There I was, a poor little 15 year-old, dutifully attending school and getting good grades. Then you came along and practically ASKED me to chase you."
"And where did you get that?" She asked. "My `I view studying as a solitary activity' or the `You'd have to be stupid to think that, given our history, I would ever, barring a piano or a safe falling on my head, want to go anywhere with you, ever?'"
"I'm more inclined to say the second one."
"You have GOT to be kidding."
He looked at her innocently.
"This is just great. I'm pulled from a mob into an empty cottage with you and am forced to explain the meaning of `no.'"
"From experience, most girls say `no' when they really mean `yes.'"
"Well I'm not most girls!"
"I know," he said quietly.
She gaped at him. After minutes passed by, he spoke again.
"Looks like the mob's dispersed. You can go out now."
She was pushed out the door unresistingly and before she knew it, the door had been closed in her face. She fought to get her jaw closed. Just when she thought she had figured him out, he had to go and change again! It was late, but she didn't feel like sleeping. Sighing, she trudged to the girls' lounge. There was only one other person there.
"Madeline? Shouldn't you be asleep?"
"I knew you'd come here. Oh, give me the scoop! Was it bad?"
Rory briefly outlined it for her.
Madeline giggled. "That isn't half as bad as when Paris got in trouble."
"Paris got in trouble?" Rory asked incredulously. Somehow she couldn't imagine the Puritanical Paris Gellar breaking rules. Then again, she hadn't ever viewed herself as a daredevil.
Madeline nodded. "OH yeah. See, in eighth grade, we all went to a party and were playing truth or dare. Well when it was her turn, they told her to go skinny-dipping in the pool. She didn't want to at first, but we managed to convince her to. The host's parents weren't home, so it went off ok. But we didn't know there was a security camera. They showed the video tape to Paris's parents!"
Rory gasped.
"Her mother actually fainted!"
They were both now clutching their stomachs. Madeline looked at the clock.
"Oh! I have fishing duty at 5 in the morning!" She shrieked. It was now midnight. She stood up. "I'll see you later."
Rory sat in introspection for a while before picking up the phone. She'd have to tell her eventually.
"Don't joke with me!"
"I wish I were," Rory groaned, rolling onto her bed.
"Ooo my perfect daughter Rory DOES have a bad girl streak in her!"
Rory sighed in depression.
"Don't take it so seriously, hun. You didn't do anything wrong." Her mother added when she realized Rory really was distraught.
"I know, but it just doesn't feel right." Her conversation with Madeline was still in her mind. "Mom, have you ever gone skinny dipping?"
"Alright, who are you and what have you done with my daughter?"
Rory giggled. "So have you?"
"Well...once."
"Really?"
"Okay, twice."
"Hmm..."
"Okay, okay, more than that. But it was darn good fun!"
Rory bolted up.
"Why does everyone say that?"
"Because it is. You should try it some time."
After a moment of silence, she added, "Scratch that. Try it when there is no one around and you can float around to Barry Manilow."
"Mom!"
"What?"
She yawned. "I gotta go. I'll talk to you soon."
"Alright. Have fun."
Moving groggily, Rory pulled the covers off of her body, sliding to the floor.
"Get up, Gilmore. Breakfast is in ten minutes."
Rory rubbed her eyes and got up. She was still shrugging off sleep as they handed her a tin of oatmeal. The food wasn't exactly fine dining, but it kept them alive. The teacher greeted them and posted the list on the wall for their activities and tasks of the day. She was scraping the contents of the tin into a trash can next to her as Summer passed her, dropping a note into her lap. Curious, she unfolded it.
Meet me at eleven-thirty in the girls' lounge.
It was deathly silent as she meekly shuffled over to the teachers. She kept her eyes trained on the ground, wishing not for the first time that she could sink into the hard-packed dirt.
They sat her in a wooden chair, pacing in front of her.
"So, Ms. Gilmore. Would you like to explain to us why you were out there in such indecent attire?"
"W-well, it was-they said-it was a dare," she croaked.
"A dare?"
Mutely, she nodded.
"Ms. Gilmore, I would've expected better of you, one of the top students at Chilton. You are expected to uphold the rules and regulations of Chilton even while on a trip. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Mr. Yarek."
"I'm afraid we'll have to report this to the headmaster."
Her head shot up. He couldn't do that! Her record would be scarred for life. Harvard would look at her and shake its head in disapproval, thinking she was always wild and boisterous. She panicked.
"NO! You can't!"
"Ms. Gilmore, I don't believe you are in any position to tell me what I can and cannot do."
Rory's eyes gleamed with tears unshed. "But I didn't do anything wrong."
"We know that, but I still must report it."
"But the headmaster will think it's much worse than it is. He wasn't here to witness it."
"I have a job to do, Ms. Gilmore."
She watched hopelessly as punched in numbers on the speaker-phone. Suddenly an idea flickered in her mind. "I suppose you could tell him. Of course, you WOULD have to explain why you and Ms. Wilden weren't there to supervise us in the first place."
Both teachers blushed scarlet. Someone picked up on the other line.
"Hello? Headmaster Charleston here."
Mr. Yarek hesitated and looked at Ms. Wilden, who nodded frantically. "Ah-Headmaster Charleston, I just wanted to let you know that all's well here at the junior escape."
"That's good, Bob. Is that all?"
"Uh-yes."
Rory could hear the suspicion in the headmaster's voice. "Alright then. I'll see you in three days."
"Good-bye."
When he had shut the phone off, he looked Rory and cleared his throat. "Erm, after further consideration, I feel it is not worth troubling Headmaster Charleston over. However, there will have to be some consequences. You will not be allowed to attend the dance the day after tomorrow as it is clear you need a little lesson in how to behave in public. Does that sound fair?" His eyes flicked over to Ms. Wilden.
"Perfectly, sir."
"Then you may go."
Rory nearly wept with relief as she scurried out the door. Her happiness was short-lived. Outside, she was instantly swarmed. Many guys were whooping and she flushed, looking for somewhere to hide. Knowing Paris, she would be in the cabin, and that was not her idea of a safe and isolated place. A hand was gently pulling her away. The door closed behind them.
She looked up with grateful eyes at her savior. "Thank-oh, it's you."
"Such enthusiasm, Mary. Have you ever considered acting?"
"If it'll get me away from Chilton and it's-inhabitants, I'm all for it."
He looked shocked. "You don't mean ME do you?"
"Of course not. I meant the other Tristan Dugray who's been my rival since sophomore year."
He grinned. "Well it was your fault, really."
"Excuse me?"
He grinned at her outrage. "There I was, a poor little 15 year-old, dutifully attending school and getting good grades. Then you came along and practically ASKED me to chase you."
"And where did you get that?" She asked. "My `I view studying as a solitary activity' or the `You'd have to be stupid to think that, given our history, I would ever, barring a piano or a safe falling on my head, want to go anywhere with you, ever?'"
"I'm more inclined to say the second one."
"You have GOT to be kidding."
He looked at her innocently.
"This is just great. I'm pulled from a mob into an empty cottage with you and am forced to explain the meaning of `no.'"
"From experience, most girls say `no' when they really mean `yes.'"
"Well I'm not most girls!"
"I know," he said quietly.
She gaped at him. After minutes passed by, he spoke again.
"Looks like the mob's dispersed. You can go out now."
She was pushed out the door unresistingly and before she knew it, the door had been closed in her face. She fought to get her jaw closed. Just when she thought she had figured him out, he had to go and change again! It was late, but she didn't feel like sleeping. Sighing, she trudged to the girls' lounge. There was only one other person there.
"Madeline? Shouldn't you be asleep?"
"I knew you'd come here. Oh, give me the scoop! Was it bad?"
Rory briefly outlined it for her.
Madeline giggled. "That isn't half as bad as when Paris got in trouble."
"Paris got in trouble?" Rory asked incredulously. Somehow she couldn't imagine the Puritanical Paris Gellar breaking rules. Then again, she hadn't ever viewed herself as a daredevil.
Madeline nodded. "OH yeah. See, in eighth grade, we all went to a party and were playing truth or dare. Well when it was her turn, they told her to go skinny-dipping in the pool. She didn't want to at first, but we managed to convince her to. The host's parents weren't home, so it went off ok. But we didn't know there was a security camera. They showed the video tape to Paris's parents!"
Rory gasped.
"Her mother actually fainted!"
They were both now clutching their stomachs. Madeline looked at the clock.
"Oh! I have fishing duty at 5 in the morning!" She shrieked. It was now midnight. She stood up. "I'll see you later."
Rory sat in introspection for a while before picking up the phone. She'd have to tell her eventually.
"Don't joke with me!"
"I wish I were," Rory groaned, rolling onto her bed.
"Ooo my perfect daughter Rory DOES have a bad girl streak in her!"
Rory sighed in depression.
"Don't take it so seriously, hun. You didn't do anything wrong." Her mother added when she realized Rory really was distraught.
"I know, but it just doesn't feel right." Her conversation with Madeline was still in her mind. "Mom, have you ever gone skinny dipping?"
"Alright, who are you and what have you done with my daughter?"
Rory giggled. "So have you?"
"Well...once."
"Really?"
"Okay, twice."
"Hmm..."
"Okay, okay, more than that. But it was darn good fun!"
Rory bolted up.
"Why does everyone say that?"
"Because it is. You should try it some time."
After a moment of silence, she added, "Scratch that. Try it when there is no one around and you can float around to Barry Manilow."
"Mom!"
"What?"
She yawned. "I gotta go. I'll talk to you soon."
"Alright. Have fun."
Moving groggily, Rory pulled the covers off of her body, sliding to the floor.
"Get up, Gilmore. Breakfast is in ten minutes."
Rory rubbed her eyes and got up. She was still shrugging off sleep as they handed her a tin of oatmeal. The food wasn't exactly fine dining, but it kept them alive. The teacher greeted them and posted the list on the wall for their activities and tasks of the day. She was scraping the contents of the tin into a trash can next to her as Summer passed her, dropping a note into her lap. Curious, she unfolded it.
Meet me at eleven-thirty in the girls' lounge.