Something To Remember
by inmyeyes
Part 10
(Thursday evening. The park. Hartford)
Had it happened to anyone else, he would have just laughed and called the guy a pathetic fool. But since all this had happened to him, he was not amused at all. However, he readily admitted that he was a pathetic fool. Well, actually, a pathetic cowardly fool.
Here he was, for the third time that week, sitting on that same bench they had sat on on Monday, tracing the carved words that mocked him. Here he was, at the park where memories of them together assailed him; memories which made him berate himself for his stupidity and yearn for more of her at the same time.
He had worn out his Brian McKnight CD and had to buy a new one. 'Anytime' had become a theme song of sorts for him and when his dreams of her tortured him, he would find himself in his living room, playing the song on the grand piano there.
God, he was acting like one of those lovesick fools who pined over a lost lover or rather in his case, unrequited love. Those same lovesick fools whom he had just laughed at before. Those lovesick fools that he never thought he'd be. A lovesick fool: something no one would associate with Tristan DuGrey.
He didn't have the nerve to even look her in the eye, let alone do anything. He felt like the lowest lifeform on earth whenever he saw her... especially when a pang of want ran through him whenever she was near. So, it was easier for him to avoid her; not that it was difficult since she too was avoiding him. He went about on his normal routine; laughing, flirting, smiling and living up to everyone's expectations of Tristan DuGrey.
But every once in a while, his mask would slip and his eyes would find her and his heart would constrict with a pain that was so searing. And every once in a while, he catch Paris' contemplative gaze, telling him that she knew something was wrong. Then he'd just send a dazzling smile her way and hope she wouldn't interfere. That was all he needed to make his misery complete; Paris' interference.
So yes, he was a pathetic cowardly lovesick fool. He just smiled wryly at the thought.
(Gilmore house. Stars Hollow)
"You're not telling me something."
Rory stopped her pacing and shot her friend a look. "I told you everything."
Lane shook her head, leaning back on the couch. " You were in a car accident. You had amnesia. Tristan lied to you and told you you guys were dating. You spent time with him. And now you're pissed 'cos you've found out the truth." Lane paused, giving Rory a meaningful look. "I still say this story is missing something."
Rory sat down next to Lane and shrugged. "It's not missing anything. I told you what happened."
"But that was the cliff notes' version. I want it all, in technicolour glory and with sordid detail."
"We kissed," Rory mumbled.
Lane let out a shriek. "You kissed him!"
"A lot. Many, many times."
Lane sighed. "Now, this is the kind of detail I'm talking about. Tell me about it."
"About what?"
"The kissing."
"Lane!"
"Oh come on, please? You know how I live vicariously through you!"
"It was good," Rory admitted.
Lane leaned closer, her eyes wide. "How good?"
"The heart-wrenching, bone-melting, swoon-worthy type of good," Rory breathed, her traitorous mind replaying the kisses they had shared.
"Wow," Lane sighed. There was a comfortable silence before Lane spoke again. "So... what are you gonna do?"
"About?"
"About Dean. About Tristan. About how you feel," Lane clarified.
"I don't know."
"What's been going on with you and Tristan?"
Rory resisted the urge to bash her head against her locker and chose to continue taking her books out. "Nothing's going on," she said curtly. She closed her locker, and faced the girl next to her. "Isn't that the way you want it, Paris?"
Paris just shrugged. They both stood there for a moment, waiting for the other to say or do something. When nothing came, Rory just shook her head and brushed past Paris, only to bump into someone.
Biting back a curse, she bent down to pick up the book she had dropped but a hand stopped her. The tingle that ran through her body at the contact told her exactly who it was she had bumped into.
Tristan.
They both straightened and he handed the book to her. Her eyes darted to him before she mumbled a quick apology, wanting to just get away from him.
"Rory!"
She didn't know why she stopped but she did. Taking a deep breath, she turned around and met his blue eyes. Clenching her jaw to keep from doing something stupid, like touching him, she stood here stonily, waiting for him to say something.
"Look, I think we should talk," he said, moving closer to her.
"I have nothing to say to you," she replied, taking a step back.
"Well, I need to talk to you."
"Well, I don't wanna hear it."
"Rory," he said, his eyes pleading. Rory bit the inside of her cheek. She just shook her head and walked away.
From a few feet away, Paris saw the desolate expression on Tristan's face as he watched Rory walk away. "Yeah, sure... nothing's going on," she muttered under her breath.
Rory stared at the notebook on her desk, hoping that her Calculus teacher would stop droning on and on. She bit her lip as the sharp pain hit her head. Breathing deeply, she tried to ride out the wave of pain. The throbbing in her head was momentary but when it hit, it hit hard. Closing her eyes and shaking away the last of the pain, she turned her attention back to the teacher.
From his seat diagonally behind her, Tristan watched her, his hands gripping the edge of the desk when he recognized the pain etched on her features. His worry increased when she reached up and rubbed her temples. He saw her visible relief when the pain went away and only then did he take his eyes off her.
(Lunch time. Chilton library)
When she found an empty seat near the back of the library, she let her bag fall to the floor with a loud thud as she plopped herself down on the chair. Heaving a sigh of relief, she rested her head against the cool surface of the table.
She winced as another round of pain hit her. The headaches and pain had become more intense as the day wore on. She tried to bear them as best as she could but now, she was exhausted and she felt like she just wanted to collapse into bed. Damnit, she should have brought those painkillers that the doctor prescribed with her.
"Rory, are you all right?"
Opening her eyes, she saw Paris peering at her. "I'm fine."
"You don't look fine," Paris countered, taking in her pale face.
Even through her pain, Rory managed to throw a scathing look. "Do you always have to disagree with me?"
"I can't help it if you're wrong most of the time."
Rory groaned and made a shooing motion with her hands. "Just go away, Paris. Leave me alone."
Moments later, she heard the sound of footsteps going away from her.
After a few minutes, Rory finally felt well enough to sit up. The pain was still there, but it wasn't as bad as it was before. Deciding that she needed to get some work done, she got up and made her way to the book shelves.
Fresh air. That was what he needed. He had to get away from his friends and distance himself from playing the game that he had played willingly for so long. He needed to get his head together. Making up an excuse, he had left the cafeteria and was in search of a quite place where he could just think.
"Tristan!"
The sound of Paris' voice echoed in the nearly empty hallway causing Tristan to sigh. It seemed like he couldn't get a moment to himself in this school. "Yes?"
"You have to come with me," Paris said insistently. She grabbed his hand and tugged at him.
"Why?"
"Rory."
The simple word was enough to make him follow her. He got a sick feeling in his gut. "What's wrong with her?"
Paris didn't say anything but merely pulled him in the direction of the library. Tristan grabbed her and turned her to face him. "Tell me what's wrong, Paris," he demanded.
"I don't know!" Paris said hurriedly. "But I know she's sick."
When they finally got to the table where Rory's stuff were at, Paris' eyes widened in alarm when they didn't see her there.
"Oh God, where is she?" Tristan mumbled, looking around for her familiar form. When he saw a seated figure leaning against a nearby book shelf, he ran there
It was her. Rory was holding her head in her hands and the whimpering sounds she made almost made his heart break. Crouching down to her level, he uncurled her arms from around her body and wrapped his own around her, cradling her head against his shoulder.
"Rory, sweetie, tell me what's wrong?" he pleaded, his hands stroking her soft hair. All he got in return was a moan of pain. He hated the feeling of helplessness that overtook him.
Rory wrapped her arms around Tristan, burrowing her head against his neck as though seeking protection from the pain. One moment she was feeling okay, and the next thing she knew, the pounding in her head had become so bad that she nearly collapsed from it. Drawing from a reserve of strength she didn't know she had, she had leaned against the shelves, her hands holding her head. She thought the pain would taper off but instead, it just got worse. She had lowered herself to the floor, hands holding her head in an attempt to fight off the pain.
Feeling Tristan's arms around her gave a small measure of comfort and she willingly crumbled into the protection that he was offering to her. Whimpering as the throbbing pain continued, she pulled herself closer to him. "Tristan.... make it go away," she whispered.
His heart broke at the pleading in her voice. Gathering her up in his arms, he slowly stood up. Catching Paris' eyes, he said, "I'm taking her to the hospital. Could you help me and carry her stuff to my car?"
Paris nodded.
Turning to Rory, he asked, "Rory, can you walk? I'm taking you to the hospital." He felt her nod against his shoulder. "Okay then."
With his arm around her waist, the pair made their way out of the library and into the hallway. They were half-way down the long hall-way when Rory gave a whimper of pain and leaned against him, her arms coming around to wrap around his waist.
In an unconscious gesture, he leaned down and planted a light kiss on her head. Then, he hauled her into his arms and strode out the door and into the parking lot. He gave a grateful smile to Paris who was standing by his car with Rory's things by her side. She opened the car door and moved aside so that Tristan could put her inside.
Once Rory was safely inside, Tristan gave her a quick hug and another grateful smile. "Thanks Paris. I owe you one."
Paris just smiled. "Like I said, if you need a friend, I'm here." Her face turned sombre. "Call me when you know what's wrong."
"I will," he promised.
Moments later, Tristan's car roared to life and he sped out of the parking lot.