Something To Remember
by inmyeyes
Part 14
(Saturday morning. Gilmore house. Stars Hollow)
She let out a loud unladylike grunt as an errant ray of sunlight defied her desire to remain in a cocoon of darkness. Throwing an arm up over her eyes, she groaned as the events of the previous night flooded her mind.
She was wrong; things did not seem better in the morning.
"Damn the sun," she mumbled, rolling onto her side and pulling her comforter up over her head. In the warm darkness that she found herself in, a new set of memories found their way to the forefront.
She remembered strong arms around her, the soothing feel of his hands on her back, the calming motion of his fingers stroking her hair, the warm whisper of his words and that familiar smell of him; cologne, soap and something else was inherently him.
A smile found its way to her lips before she remembered that she really shouldn't be smiling.
Yet, she couldn't help but think that the break-up had been imminent; things hadn't been the same, at least for her, ever since her accident. She couldn't help but feel a tiny wave of relief that it was over; she wouldn't have to feel that guilt that gnawed on her every time she was with him. The guilt that stemmed from the fact that she had lied to him and that she was thinking of someone else; a someone else that happened to be a guy that he hated. The guilt that grew when she realized that when she finally did say "I love you.", the phrase would probably be followed by Tristan's name.
Still, it didn't mean that it hadn't hurt her. It was difficult to sit there and see the pain in his eyes and to watch their relationship fall apart. She didn't mean to intentionally hurt him; he wasn't just her boyfriend, he was a good friend too; one that she didn't want to lose.
She would have to tell him the truth, she realized. She owed him that much.
"He broke up with her."
On the other end of the line, she snorted. "What? No 'Good morning, Paris. How are you doing...'?" She bit back a laugh when she heard a low growl come from him.
"Good morning, Paris. How are you doing? He broke up with her."
Paris settled herself more comfortably on the armchair before saying, "How do you know?"
Tristan sighed. "She called me yesterday and asked me to come over to her house. They broke up."
"Who did the breaking-up?" she asked.
"He did. And I don't know why. She wouldn't tell me." He bit his lip. "I think it might have been because of me."
Paris made a "tsk" sound. "Don't think so highly of yourself, DuGrey."
"What do I do?"
"She's not gonna jump into a relationship with you, Tristan," she remarked dryly.
"I can hope, right?"
"You know she won't."
"Yeah, I know," he mumbled.
If she didn't feel guilty enough before, she sure as hell felt guilty now. Dean was being treated like dirt now that the whole town had heard of the break-up and she was being coddled as though she was an innocent victim.
The thing was... she didn't feel like the innocent victim. She felt more like the villain; a feeling that unsettled her already guilty conscience.
And Dean... he had looked so absolutely broken.
She closed her eyes, wishing the billionth time that last night didn't happen.
From her perch on her bed, she could hear the sound of her mother talking to Babette, trying to get their nosy but well-meaning neighbour to leave. She needed a distraction. Sighing, she reached for her physics book, hoping to study. When she opened the cover, a piece of paper fluttered to the floor. She picked it up and saw that it was the flyer for Madeline's party.
For a few moments, she fingered the piece of paper in her hands. Then she jumped up and went in search of Lorelai.
"Tell me again why I'm going with you," Lane demanded as she waited for Rory to stop fiddling with her hair. "Stop that, your hair's great."
She took a last long look in the mirror before turning to face her friend. "You're my support system."
"For what?"
"Against the evil Chiltonites," she explained. When she saw the disbelieving look in Lane's eyes, she sighed. "Okay, okay... you're a buffer for Tristan & I."
"So, I'm the United Nations?" Lane said incredulously.
"Well... something like that."
"Why do you need a neutral third party anyway?"
"To stop me from doing anything stupid."
Lane grinned and pulled on Rory's arm so that they could get going. "Something stupid, as in..." Lane affected a pensive pose. "Maybe making a move on Tristan?"
Rory rolled her eyes. "No, there will be no move-making involved."
"Sure, you say that now. What other stupid thing could you do?"
"I could make a list," Rory offered.
Lane shrugged. "Well, at least I get to meet this elusive Tristan. I can't believe that you guys have been friends for about two weeks now and I haven't met him! Don't I get best friend privileges?"
"Yeah well, this is your best friend privilege."
"It sounds more like best friend duty," Lane disagreed.
"You don't have to come with me if you don't want to, Lane."
"You think I'd rather go on that date my mom set up?" Lane shuddered for effect. The two girls shared a look and smiled. After a moment of carefully observing her friend, Lane asked, "Rory are you sure you want to go out tonight?"
Lane resisted the urge to laugh when she saw that Rory was so frustrated that she almost stomped her foot. " Why does everyone keep asking me that?"
"Because you just broke up. I mean I'd be perfectly fine to just hang out here and listen to music and talk, not talk, whatever."
Rory shook her head. "No, I am not hanging out. We are going to this party. It's gonna be great. I don't want to dwell on this. That's final."
"What really happened, Rory?" Lane asked, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"I really don't wanna talk about it," Rory sighed.
"Okay, fine," Lane conceded. "But as best friend, know that I'm here if you wanna talk."
"I know, thanks." Rory smiled gratefully and reached out to hug Lane.
"C'mon, we have a party to go to!" Lane squealed.
"So... this is the fun life I've been missing out on," Rory remarked dryly as her eyes swept through the room full of teenagers.
"Yeah. Fun fun fun," Paris said in an equally dry tone. "Same exact people we see at school except now we get to see them dance." She paused, wondering if she should ask. She did anyways. "So where is your boyfriend?"
"We, um, we broke up."
"Oh. Well at least you had a boyfriend for a while," she said in an off-hand manner.
"So do you know, um, which way would lead us to some soda?"
"Keep up because I'm not turning around." She smiled to soften the harsh tone of her voice and gestured for Rory and Lane to follow her.
"Wow, you didn't exaggerate," Lane whispered as they followed Paris through the mass of people.
"Paris needs no embellishments," Rory replied, as they finally reached the refreshments area.
"All this soda is French," Lane said, looking at the bottles of soda that were before them.
Paris just shrugged. "Madeline's mother has a French fetish. She's obsessed with all things French. French wine, French food, French water, French cellulite products."
"French kissing," came a husky voice from behind Rory.
A shiver ran down her spine; she knew who it was. She spun around to face him, trying to hide her smile. "You would know, wouldn't you?" Rory said, rolling her eyes.
"I'd love to share my wealth of knowledge," he offered, leering at her. He laughed when she smacked his head and mumbled "Perv!" under her breath. Grinning unabashedly, he slung his arm around her shoulders. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm here to have a good time." When she saw the look in his eyes, she knew that another lewd comment was going to pass through his lips. "Nuh-uh. Don't say it," she warned.
He feigned innocence. "Say what? I wasn't gonna say anything!"
Lane had been silently studying the two of them, storing up a vault of information; information that she would ruthlessly hound her best friend with later. "So, you're the infamous Tristan," she finally said, taking advantage of the slight lull in the conversation between the two of them.
Tristan turned on the full blast of his charm. "Infamous? I didn't know you cared, Mary."
"Shut up, French Boy," Rory said. "Tristan, this is my best friend, Lane."
Tristan shook her hand and felt oddly disconcerted because of the knowing look in Lane's eyes. "It's great to finally put a face to the name."
"Yeah, definitely," Lane agreed, shooting Rory a why-didn't-you-tell-me-he-looked-this-good look.
Under both Lane's and Paris' gaze, Rory felt an itch of discomfort and suddenly, she became aware of the weight of Tristan's arm resting around her shoulder, holding her close to him. When she noticed Paris glancing at her watch for the fifth time in two minutes, she jumped at the chance to make conversation. "Why do you keep checking your watch?"
Paris sighed. "My mom says I have to stay until 10:30."
"Why would she care?"
Paris's eyes roved over the crowd disinterestedly. "She thinks I'm not enough of a people person. Shocking, huh?"
Rory laughed. "I'm floored."
"Hey, dance with me?" Tristan asked.
"You know I don't dance," Rory answered.
"Yeah, well... I managed to change your mind the last time," he pointed out. Seconds later, he mentally bashed his head against the wall for bringing up "the weekend" as he now termed that time with Rory.
Rory knew that her cheeks were scarlet and was hoping that the dim lights would hide them. "That was different," she argued.
"C'mon... please?" he pleaded.
'Don't do it!' The voice in her head called out, warning her that being that close to him was dangerous and way too tempting. Even now, when they were standing side by side, the warmth of his body and the smell of his cologne lured her in. How would she be able to resist him if she was dancing with him? Not heeding any of the loud, persistent voices in her head, she gave in. "Okay."
"Please tell me that you see it," Paris said.
Lane nodded in agreement. "I see it. It's way too obvious. It's like a neon, flashing billboard."
"They think they're fooling everyone. He thinks he's fooling everyone."
They watched as the boy in question pulled the girl closer in his arms, not encountering any resistance from the girl.
"They're just fooling themselves," Lane remarked.
Silence ensued at Paris and Lane stood companionably together, watching their friends' miserable efforts at denial.
"I didn't know dancing was on your list of stupid things not to do," Lane protested. "It's a perfectly non-stupid thing to do. Especially at a party."
"Well, this is coming from the girl who was dancing with that boy. Who was he?"
"His name is Henry," Lane sighed dreamily.
"I'm with Lane. Dancing is a non-stupid thing to do at a party," Paris piped up. "And hey, you should take my word for it. I didn't dance with anyone so my perspective isn't tarnished."
Rory playfully glared at Paris. "Not helping, Paris."
Paris shrugged, her lips etched in a wry smile. "I live to serve."
"Okay, fine. Dancing is a non-stupid thing to do at a party. But," Rory paused, "dancing with Tristan is definitely on my list of stupid things not to do."
"Well, technically, anything to do with Tristan is on your not-to-do list," Lane said pointedly.
Rory sighed. "Not helping, Lane." Her eyes travelled between the two girls, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Are you two in cahoots or something?"
Paris let out a "Pfffft". "Us? In cahoots?"
"Tell me again why anything Tristan-related is on your not-to-do list," Lane said, diverting focus back to the topic at hand.
"Argh!"
Tristan turned his head and saw Paris smiling at him. He motioned for her to sit next to him on the empty couch. "Yeah... I enjoyed it too much."
Paris smirked. "I could tell."
"It's already 10.45."
Paris shrugged, leaning back against the cushions. "Wow, you can read a clock," she muttered sarcastically.
"I thought you wanted to leave at 10.30," he reminded her.
She shrugged again, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I changed my mind."
"Where is she?"
She took the seemingly random question in stride; she had actually anticipated it, knowing that he was bound to ask about her. "Sitting with Lane and talking."
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his fingers covering his face. "What am I gonna do Paris?"
"I don't know, Tristan."
His eyes met hers and Paris' heart almost broke at the hopeful look in his blue gaze. "Do you think she would-"
"I don't know," she repeated.
"Why can't it just be simple?" he groaned.
"That wouldn't be much fun, would it?"
"Sadist," he muttered.
"Loser," Paris retorted.
Tristan chuckled, but he couldn't hide the desolate look in his eyes.
Rory smiled. "No, I wasn't mad at you. I was just frustrated with myself and the damn voices in my head."
"The voices in your head?"
Rory nodded. "They're evil. They make me do things that I shouldn't do."
Lane laughed. "They're telling you to throw caution to the wind and go after Tristan?"
"Something like that."
"What's the problem with that?" Lane inquired. "I can't see any obstacles in your way."
"My guilty conscience is in the way," Rory answered. Feeling a little uncertain, she added, "I think I'm gonna tell Dean the truth about what happened that weekend."
"Why? It wouldn't solve anything. It'll just hurt him even more."
"I know," Rory said, her voice tingled with sadness. "But I feel that he at least deserves to know the truth. I have to tell him... even if it's only for the sake of my peace of mind." Deciding that she needed to lighten the atmosphere a little, she switched topics. "So tell me about Henry."
Lane realized what Rory was doing but decided to give her friend a break. So she smiled brightly as she started sharing details about Henry.
Out of their own violation, his fingers started playing a simple melody. The feel of the piano keys beneath his fingers was almost comforting, the soft music wafting through the room.
His fingers stilled as his mind suddenly flooded with the memory of Rory dancing in his arms.
"Dancing with me isn't that bad, is it?" he said, his voice teasing as he slowly pulled her into his arms. He silently thanked whoever it was who was in the charge of the music for playing the slow song.
"No, it isn't that bad," she said, smiling softly. The feel of his fingers lightly stroking her back was distracting her. Taking a deep breath, she decided to focus on the music that blaring through the speakers. Moments later, she regretted playing attention to the song. "Kissing You" wasn't exactly the best song to listen to while dancing in Tristan's arms. Shaking her head slightly, she silently told her mind not to venture anywhere near the memories of kissing Tristan.
"So... how are you holding up?"
Rory groaned, burying her head in his shoulder. "Don't ask that question. Anything but that question. I'm sick of it."
"Anything?" he said, grinning widely.
Rory gave him a dirty look. "I'm feeling as good as I can be feeling," she said vaguely.
"On a scale of 1-10, where would you be?"
"Maybe somewhere near -235," Rory answered.
"That bad, huh?" he said, sympathetic.
"Worse." She tried not to smile when she felt him pull her closer. "I just try not to think about it."
"Avoidance is your medicine of choice, I see."
Rory groaned. "I just feel horrible about it, Tristan."
"Why? He's the one who broke up with you." When she didn't say anything, he asked, "He was the one who broke up with you, right?"
"It's a lot more complicated than that."
"Rory-"
She looked up at him, her eyes beseeching. "Please... can we not talk about that? Can we just dance?"
He found that he couldn't say no. "Okay." So, he wrapped his arms tighter around her and just enjoyed having her so close.
"I've been looking for you." Rory gave a tentative smile when she saw the pensive look in his eyes. She didn't why she had gone to look for him; she knew she shouldn't because her nerves were still recovering from the currents that ran through her when they had danced. Them being alone in a room together was a bad idea; this fact was reiterated to her when out of nowhere, her thoughts shifted to kissing him. She fervently prayed that he didn't notice the blush that was tainting her cheeks.
Tristan looked up and met the same blue eyes that he had been envisioning in his mind. Assailed with nerves, he jerked his eyes away and started tinkering with the piano keys again. "Well... you found me." Before he knew what he was doing, he was playing "Anytime".
She instantly recognized the song; it struck her now how this situation mirrored that day in her grandparents' house. "What aren't you out there?"
Even though he knew the song by heart, he pretended to be absorbed with trying to play the song. "Just felt like being alone." He kept his eyes averted from her but he knew that she was getting closer; the perfume that he had come to associate with her titillated his senses and seconds later, he felt her arm brush against his. Trying to get his heart to slow down, he kept his eyes on the black and white keys before him.
"Tristan..." she began, not exactly sure what she was doing there and what she was saying. 'Bad idea, Rory. Really bad idea. Remember #5 on your list of things not to do? Don't be too close to Tristan. Stay away from Tristan.'
He finally looked at her and immediately, he knew it was a mistake. It was a mistake because it didn't do anything to help curb his urge to kiss her. In fact, it seemed that the urge had just gotten worse. 'Stupid, stupid, stupid!'
It felt like their gazes had stayed locked forever and Rory knew that she had to say something or do something before the seemingly inevitable happened. She knew her smile was shaky. "Is this song the only one you can play?" she asked, teasingly.
Her words broke through the fog his mind was trapped in; his chuckle was one of relief. "Brian McKnight not good enough for you, Miss Gilmore?" He gently nudged her. "Want me to play some Bach?"
Rory stuck her nose in the air and gave a pretentious huff. "Absolutely not. I'd like to hear some Mozart, thank you."
"I don't take requests," Tristan said just as huffily.
Without thinking, Rory slid closer to him on the bench and she started to play the only song that she knew.
He snorted, easily recognizing what she was playing. "Brian McKnight isn't good enough but Richard Marx is?" he asked, disbelieving
"Hey," Rory exclaimed, her tone defensive. "He's a great songwriter."
"So is Brian McKnight," he countered. Then he quickly changed the topic, knowing that the dispute could get out of hand. "I didn't know that you play."
She arched her brow in reply, her smile was impish. "There's a lot of things you don't know about me."
"I know," was his simple answer. "And I'm making it my mission to know it all."
Rory had to remind herself to breathe when he slid even closer to her and rested his hand lightly on her hip, his touch searing her skin. "Oh really?"
Praying that he wasn't making a wrong move, he leaned his head closer to hers, so close that he could smell her fruity shampoo. "Yeah, it's my new goal in life." He paused, his lips almost on hers, giving her the chance to pull away if she wanted to. But she just stayed as she was, her soft lips curling in a hint of a smile. Swallowing down his nervousness, he breached that last inch between them and caught her lips in a slow kiss.
Anticipation had her stomach churning when he had stopped and she suddenly feared that he had changed his mind, feared that he didn't want to kiss her as much she wanted him too. She saw a glimpse of anxiety in his eyes and recognized a fear that matched her own. And after that, she didn't see anymore as her lids fluttered shut at the long-awaited contact of his lips on hers.
God, he had missed the way kissing her made him feel. His blood was running through his veins at the speed of light, his heart pounding, and the adrenaline that was fueling him and making him feel so alive. He was free-falling and it felt that like there was no end in sight. He wouldn't minded if this delicious feeling went on and on and on...
The moment the kiss ignited, her heart had taken control, telling her to stay where she was and to soak in the emotions that were bubbling in her. She couldn't deny that she had been waiting for this to happen, hoping that this would eventually happen.
Then, those dreaded voices in her head decided to speak up and they had turned against her; reminding her that it was only yesterday that her relationship with Dean had ended, reminding her of those awful feelings of guilt that had been tormenting her all day, reminding her of the look of betrayal in Dean's eyes...
Stray tears escaped through her closed eyes and although she didn't want to, oh God... she really didn't want to, she pulled away.
The moment her lips left his, his eyes snapped open in panic. "I'm sorry," were his words that were tinged with worry. "What did I do? Did I bite your lip or something?"
She wanted so badly to reach out and erase the desperation in his eyes. She shook her head vehemently, hoping that he would understand. "No, it's not you," she said hurriedly, not aware of the tears that were streaking down her cheeks. "It's just - I have to go." Without a backwards glance, she ran out of there.
Rory spun around at the question, her vision slightly blurred due to her tears. She managed a small smile and tried to lie convincingly, "I'm fine."
Paris cast her a dubious look, obviously not believing her. "Rory-"
Damnit, she had to get out of here. "Have you seen Lane?" she asked, cutting of Paris' words.
Paris pointed to a spot a few feet behind her. "Last time I saw her, she was dancing with Henry."
"Thanks."
As Rory pushed past her, Paris decided to look for the one person who probably knew what was wrong.
Lane turned at the sound of Rory's frantic voice and saw the distressed look on her friend's face. "Rory are you okay?" Not waiting for a reply, she turned back to Henry as Rory slowly pulled her away. "I have to go."
"Well wait, can I get your number?" he called out.
She made a quick decision and grinned. "Last name's Kim and we're the only ones in Stars Hollow." As she lost sight of him in the sea of people, she muttered, "I can't believe I just came my number to a potential Korean doctor."
A.N: You're probably thinking "Geez... are they ever gonna get
together?"
All in good time, I say. :)