A.N : Hee! Thank you for the reviews. I'd like to just say that writing about the R/D relationship is weird and unnatural for me. Bleah. Hopefully, it comes out okay. Onto the chapter! :)
Edit : Heh. Thanks for pointing
out my very obvious spelling/typo mistakes during the Dean scene. Um... yes,
I just skimmed that part when I was proof-reading so I missed that. Thank
you! Hehehe. :D
* * * * *
Something To Remember
by inmyeyes
Part 12
(Friday morning. Chilton)
Leaning against a locker, Tristan kept his eyes on the front door of the school as his friends around him caught up on the school gossip. Every once in a while, he'd tune in to the conversation, add an inane comment before drifting off again, his attention focused on the crowd of students moving into the building.
He had spent the previous night doing what he had been doing for what seemed like so long; he was thinking about Rory Gilmore.
"You're an idiot, you know that?" Paris had said to him. He laughed as she rambled on about how she may not have had any experience in these kind of things, but "even I can tell you how absolutely stupid that was. Which is very stupid. Possibly one of the stupidest things you could do in your life."
His answer had been a solemn "I know."
Then, Paris had sighed and basically told him that he couldn't do anything; the ball was in her court. He didn't like hearing it but having the words "All you can do is be her friend", coming from the mouth of the girl who had made Rory's life difficult in Chilton, made it all the more real.
So here he was, after much contemplation on his part, taking a step in being her friend. Now, if only the friend in question would show her face...
His lips curled into a smile as he finally saw her familiar figure walking through the hallway, towards her locker. Making a quick excuse, he grabbed something from his own locker before sauntering over to hers. He tapped her on her shoulder and grinned widely when she turned around.
"Hello, friend."
Rory gave him a weird look. " 'Hello, friend?' Where did that come from?"
"It came from my heart." Even though she had turned her back on him and resumed rummaging through her locker, Tristan just knew that she was rolling her eyes at him.
"God, that was the cheesiest thing I've ever heard you say. Where do you get these lines? Burn that self-help book!"
Smirking, he moved to her side and propped himself up against the locker to her right. "I don't need any self-help book on how to pick up girls. I wrote that one."
Rory's eyes widened in mock wonder. "Wow, what a wonderful achievement that is."
Tristan just grinned in a self-satisfied manner. "What can I say? I am the master."
Rory snorted. "Yeah, the master of delusion. And the master of bad pick up lines."
"Hey, I'll have you know that my lines are fool-proof. There hasn't been a girl that has resisted my charms."
Rory smiled and lay a hand on his arm in sympathy. "Tristan, blow-up dolls don't count as girls."
He pouted. "Now, now... don't be mean. Not when I have something for you."
Rory closed her locker and zipped up her bag before hauling it onto her shoulder. "I'm not being mean; I'm just telling you the hard, cold facts."
"Fine then," he said, showing her the cup of Starbucks coffee that he had hidden behind his back. "I'll just drink this." Just as he brought the cup up to his lips, he felt Rory's hand on his wrist.
"You can't do that," she protested, reaching for the cup.
Tristan moved his hand so that the cup would be out of her reach. "Why not?"
"It was meant for me. So you can't drink it."
Tristan made a "tsk" sound. "What a weak argument, Rory Gilmore. But since I'm a nice guy," he ignored Rory's snicker, "I'll give it to you."
Before he even finished the sentence, Rory had taken the cup of his hands and smiled brightly at him. "Thanks."
He returned the smile as the pair made their way down the hallway to their first period class. "You're welcome. I figure I should start this," and he tried not to choke on the word, "friendship thing on a good note."
"Trying to score brownie points, huh?" Rory grinned. "Well, it's working."
As they entered the classroom and made their way to their seats, Tristan flashed a grin in Paris' direction and discreetly gave her a thumbs up. Paris just rolled her eyes but he saw the tiny smile on her lips.
"Hey Paris!"
At the sound of her name, she stopped walking, turned and waited for Rory to catch up with her. "What can I do for you, Gilmore?"
Rory bit her lip and nervously shuffled her feet. "I just wanted to say thank you. You know, for yesterday."
Paris nodded. "You're welcome." She turned on her heel but changed her mind and turned back to Rory. "Look, we may not get along all the time but I don't hate you. Yesterday was just something I would have done for anyone else."
"Thanks."
Paris nodded again but this time, she also smiled. "One more thing," her expression turned solemn. "Don't lead him on. He cares about you a lot."
Rory didn't have to ask who Paris was referring to and she also didn't know what to say to her. "I know," she mumbled, her eyes cast on the floor.
This time, Paris' smile was wry. "No, I don't think you do."
Brows furrowed in confusion, Rory just stood there, thinking it over as she watched Paris' departing figure.
"So I'll see you tomorrow?"
Her smile vanishing, Rory averted her eyes from Dean's. Her fingers fiddled with the hemline of her top as she mumbled, "Um, I'm busy tomorrow."
"You're doing something with Lane?"
She kept her eyes on the ground. "No." She breathed deeply, hoping that this wouldn't turn into a big deal. "I have plans with Tristan." She heard his harsh in-drawn breath and nervously waited for his response.
"Oh," he finally said.
Anxious, she looked up and met his gaze, hoping that his eyes would give away some of what he was feeling but she found nothing. "Dean-"
He shook his head and held his hand up, telling her that she didn't need to go on. He tried to smile. "I said that I would respect your friendship with him." He reached out and tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "And I do. But I don't have to like it, Rory."
Rory sighed, but knew that that was the best that she could expect from him. "I know."
Leaning up on her tip-toes, she brushed her lips across his. When he snaked his arm around her waist to bring her closer to him, she let him and rested her hands on his shoulders as her lips parted beneath his, deepening the kiss.
In the dark recesses of her mind, she dimly acknowledged that kissing Dean was different from kissing Tri-. 'No,' she told herself, running her hand across the nape of Dean's neck as she tried to immerse herself in the kiss. 'You won't think about his kisses. You can't think about his kisses. Not now.'
Just as she finally managed to quiet the voices in her head, Dean pulled away, smiling tenderly down at her.
Moments later, she closed the front door behind her and sagged against it, feeling utterly dejected. Closing her eyes, she slid to the floor; she leaned her head against the door, brought her legs up to her chest and then leaned her head on her knees.
And all she could see was Tristan's face; the water dripping off his jaw, his soft lips and that look in his hazy blue eyes that told her that he wanted her. She could still remember the feel his lips on hers, branding her and stirring up emotions that she didn't think she would have for him; emotions that she thought she was not capable of feeling.
He had ruined Dean's kisses for her; before, she had been perfectly content with them, revelling in the sharp shock to her system that followed every time their lips met. She enjoyed the short but meaningful kisses they had shared; she had liked the intimacy. But Tristan and his soul-stirring kisses made the kisses with Dean seem tepid and unexciting. Kissing Tristan held this note of excitement, of anticipation... and the feel of their lips melding together was the most intoxicating thing ever.
She was well aware that kissing a friend should not feel that way. But she didn't want to analyze that.
The kernel of popcorn that hit her forehead finally snapped her out of her reverie. She turned her head and saw her mother throwing her a curious look.
"What's on your mind?"
"Nothing," she muttered.
"Nothing must be pretty good for you to space out while watching your favourite movie."
Rory rolled her eyes and threw a cushion in Lorelai's direction. "Casper is not my favourite movie."
"That wasn't what you said a few years ago," Lorelai pointed out.
"I was young and naive," Rory protested.
"You had a crush on Devon Sawa," Lorelai countered.
"I did not."
"Did to."
"Did not."
"Did to."
Rory sighed, knowing that Lorelai wouldn't give up until she gave in. "I was thinking about kissing."
"Kissing Devon Sawa?" Lorelai wriggled her eyebrows.
Rory threw a handful of popcorn at her. "No, just kissing in general."
"Oh... kissing Tristan, you mean?"
Rory crossed her arms and leaned back against the couch cushions. "I hate how perceptive you can be sometimes," she muttered.
Lorelai shrugged. "It's a curse, what can I say?" Reaching for the remote control, she put the television on mute. "So... tell me."
It was Rory's turn to shrug. "Nothing to tell."
"When you're thinking about kissing someone who's not your boyfriend, there's always something to tell."
Rory groaned, grabbed a pillow and buried her face in it. "Especially when you're thinking of kissing someone else while your boyfriend is kissing you."
"You were thinking about kissing Tristan while you were kissing Dean?" Lorelai exclaimed, her eyes wide in surprise. Then she let out a shriek of glee. "Oh, this is better than I thought."
"Nice to see you finding pleasure from my misfortune, mom," Rory said dryly.
"I take my entertainment any way I can get it."
"Sadist."
"Hey now, no need to insult me." Lorelai put on a wounded look.
"I'm just confused, mom," Rory said.
"Well, good. You're supposed to be confused." Lorelai paused for a moment before speaking again. "Rory, I just want you to know that whatever decision you make... it should be about you; not about Dean or Tristan. It should be about what you want."
"But I don't know what I want!"
Lorelai leaned closer and planted a kiss on Rory's forehead. "I think that somewhere in that mess in your mind, you do."
No one was more surprised than him by Rory's invitation to hang out together. He had been thrilled by the idea but he had forced himself to seem nonchalant. Instead he chose to pass some comment about how she couldn't go a day without seeing him, earning him a smack on his arm. Yet, he had been conscious of the wide grin on his face when he finally did accept her offer.
He had been glad that there had been no awkwardness between them after all that had happened. The banter that had come easily to both of them still existed, although this time the remarks were more teasing than scathing. He had been afraid that she would pull even further away from him, that her offer of friendship had been nothing more than words hastily spoken. He should have known better than to doubt her that way.
So, here he was, standing on her front porch and telling himself to calm down. He kept on repeating to himself, "This is nothing but two friends just hanging out together." His mantra didn't work though; this was not just nothing. This was Rory Gilmore and this was his first time at her house, his first time spending quality friend-time together. This was nerve-wracking.
Raking his fingers through his hair, he sighed one last time before ringing the doorbell.
The smile that was etched on his face when Rory swung open the door came easily. "Hey."
"What? No 'hello friend'?" she teased, gesturing for him to enter.
He shook his head and laughed lightly as he crossed the threshold into the Gilmore house. "Are you ever gonna let that go?"
"Never."
He grinned. "Wouldn't expect any less."
"So," Rory began, bouncing anxiously on the balls of her feet. "Movie first or eat first?"
"I think the answer you wanna hear is coffee first," he said.
"How smart of you, Tristan. You must really be giving your three brain cells a work-out." She smiled innocently before grabbing her jacket and opening the front door again.
As they walked down the driveway, his curiosity made him ask, "Three brain cells?"
"One for girls, one for sports and the other for your self-absorbed musings," she explained, nudging his shoulder playfully.
He gave her a side-ways look. "You seem to have given this a lot of thought."
Rory laughed. "You're not exactly the most complex person, Tristan."
"Hey," he exclaimed, pushing her lightly. "I resent that!"
"More like, you resemble that."
"I think I have at least four cells," he protested.
She gave him an amused look. "Oh, do tell."
"The fourth cell is for food," he clarified.
She gestured to the store in front of them. "Great... your fourth cell can do some work when you decide what you wanna eat."
"Um, Rory... that's a hard-"
She tugged on his arm as she pushed the door open. "Just go with it."
Tristan gave a tiny shudder. "I thought he was gonna put me in a headlock or something."
"Luke's always like that," Rory laughed as the pair made their way back to the Gilmore house. "He was actually pretty nice to you."
"That was nice?" he asked incredulously.
She nodded. "Yeah, compared to his reaction to Dean-"
Tristan stifled a sigh at the uncomfortable silence between them at the mention of Dean. He shook his head imperceptibly and laid a hand on her arm. At his touch, she stopped walking and gave him a questioning look.
"Rory, we're friends now, right?" When she nodded, he went on, "Talking about him should not be uncomfortable. He shouldn't be a taboo topic of conversation between us." Inwardly, he wondered why he was torturing himself by making her boyfriend an open subject between them.
"I just don't feel comfortable mentioning him to you yet," she explained.
He felt a tiny sliver of relief run through him; he knew that he didn't feel comfortable listening to her talk about him. "Okay."
"Ro-ry," came a sing-song voice from behind them.
"Oh God," she muttered. She looked apologetically at Tristan before spinning around and smiling politely at Miss Patty.
"Rory, dear, I heard from Kirk about your friend. And what a fine specimen of a friend he is," she cooed.
Rory sneaked a look at Tristan and tried to hold in her laughter at the look of nervousness that was splayed on his face. "Miss Patty, this is my friend, Tristan. We go to Chilton together." She turned to him and grinned at his help-me look. "Tristan, this is Miss Patty... she owns the dance studio here."
Miss Patty smiled brightly and laid a hand on his arm. "It's definitely a pleasure to meet you, Tristan."
"The pleasure's all mine, ma'am," he said, trying to ignore how the woman was looking at him as though he was a piece of meat.
"Well, Miss Patty, we gotta go," Rory said hurriedly.
"Okay, dear," she said, her eyes still on Tristan. Winking at him, she said, "Hope to see you around, Tristan."
As Miss Patty sashayed away from them, the two of them quickly walked towards Rory's house. Once she was out of their ear-shot, Rory broke down and let loose with the gales of laughter that she had been holding in.
"Oh my God," she choked out. "The look on your face was priceless!"
Tristan narrowed his eyes at her and crossed his arms, silently admitting to himself that he loved the way she laughed and the rosy tint of her cheeks and her bright eyes and-. He pointed a finger at her. "Laugh all you want, missy. Just you wait."
Finally she managed to compose herself once her house came into view. But then, another problem presented itself. "Oh... crap," she mumbled, steeling herself for some sort of confrontation.
Tristan noticed how quickly she had tensed up. Just as he was about to ask her what was wrong, he caught sight of Dean. He suppressed the wave of jealousy that rose in his chest. 'You will not create a scene. You will not create a scene.' he told himself. As they walked up the steps to her front door, he clenched his fists and forced himself to be as civil as he could.
"Hi Dean," Rory chirped, but to his ears, it sounded as though her cheerfulness was forced. "What are you doing here?"
"Just wanted to see you for a while," he answered, giving her a quick kiss. His possessive hold on her waist did not go unnoticed by Tristan. 'Just breathe, man. Just breathe. '
Trying not to be too obvious, Rory squirmed out of Dean's hold on her and grinned, trying to dispel the tension in the air. "Dean, you know Tristan, right?"
"Yeah," he replied, his voice tight. He returned her smile but she noticed the warning look that he threw to Tristan. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tristan slightly incline his head in Dean's direction, acknowledging his presence.
He couldn't watch this, couldn't watch them together. "Rory, I'll wait for you inside."
Without waiting for any answer, Tristan opened the front door and strode to her living room, seating himself on the couch with a loud sigh. Propping his arms on his knees, he leaned forward and ran his fingers through his already tousled hair. The word friend reverberated through his mind.
Once the door closed, Rory turned to Dean, her eyes flashing in frustration. "You had to come and check on me, didn't you?"
"I wasn't-"
Rory sighed. "Dean, you don't have to-"
"I know, I know," he sighed. He gestured towards the house. "But he has a thing for you and I can't just stand by and let him steal you away from me."
"Dean..." she said wearily.
"You can't blame a guy for trying to look out for his girlfriend, can you?" he asked, lightly brushing his knuckles against her cheek.
She saw the apology in his eyes. "No, you can't."
Lorelai leaned against the doorway to the living room, cup of coffee in hand as she observed the young man seated on her couch. She watched the play of emotions on his face; the frustration, the jealousy, the resignation.
"You must be the infamous Tristan," she called out.
The boy stopped tugging on his hair and turned to face her. "You must be Lorelai."
"Rory has taught you well, oh young one," she said, sitting in the armchair opposite him.
He smirked. "Yeah, she gave me some pointers that she said were necessary for my survival in the Gilmore house."
Lorelai took a sip of her coffee and watched him carefully over the rim of her cup. "You must really like her."
Tristan shrugged, uncomfortable with the line of questioning. He kept his eyes averted from hers and instead, studied the pattern of the cushion in his hands. "She's a good friend."
Before Lorelai could say anything, Rory entered the room and unceremoniously flopped down on the couch next to Tristan. Seeing the weary look in her eyes, Lorelai offered her cup of coffee which was readily accepted.
"Thanks mom," she said, once she had gotten a gulp of the coffee.
"So, what are you kiddies doing?" she asked, grinning to try and brighten up the atmosphere in the room.
"We're watching Runaway Bride ," Rory answered, grateful for the topic that had been brought up.
"Oooh, can I join?"
"Of course, you can." Rory got off the couch to put the video into the VCR.
"Wait a sec," Tristan interrupted. "Runaway Bride? I did not agree to this."
"Didn't Rory fill you in on the Gilmore rule #13?" Lorelai asked, as the opening credits rolled.
Rory made herself comfortable on the couch, at the opposite end from Tristan. "Nope, I didn't get that far."
Lorelai reached out and patted his shoulder. "Gilmore rule #13: Never protest against the viewing of a Julia Roberts movie. Sit back and enjoy the show, buddy"
Tristan did just that.
A.N : No Trory happiness... yet. Um... soon? [nods] Heh. :D