A.N: This chapter ran away from me and turned out to be a lot longer than I expected so I've split it into two. Don't worry, both parts are up; I've been evil enough to string y'all along for 15 chapters. Heh. So... I hope you enjoy this. :D
Something To Remember
by inmyeyes
Part 16
Paris ignored the presence next to her and continued shovelling books into her locker. She heard a low sigh and bowed her head, trying to hide the amused smile that curled her lips. "What do you want, Tristan?"
"Is that the way you greet a friend?" Tristan said, mockingly, throwing her words back at her. He crossed his arms and grinned smugly.
Paris closed her locker and turned to him, imitating his smugness. "I'm not the one who's asking for help," she pointed out.
"What makes you think I'm asking for help?" he asked, his tone defiant.
Paris shook her head and started walking, Tristan stepping in next to her. "Why else would you be here?"
He shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Can't I say hello to a friend?"
"No, usually it's the friend who says hello to you, Mr I-Own-Chilton."
He shrugged again, not offering any protest. "Well, my days of asking for your help are over," he announced in a falsely cheerful voice, draping his arm around Paris' shoulder. "The wagon has moved on."
Paris gave him a disbelieving look as she took his arm off her shoulder. "Yeah right, and I'll be Homecoming Queen."
"It could happen," he argued.
Paris gave him a look that clearly said "Get real." She opened her mouth to say something when she noticed Rory coming their way. "Hey Rory," she called out, gauging Tristan's reaction out of the corner of her eye. She tried not to smirk when she saw him take a deep breath.
Rory closed the remaining distance between them, slightly suspicious at Paris' friendliness but deciding to just go with it. "Hi Paris." Her smile broadened slightly when her eyes came to rest on the boy next to her. "Hi Tristan."
The hurt he had felt came flooding back at the smile she gave him and for a second, his smile faltered but then their eyes met and out of their own volition, his lips curled into a grin. "Hey."
Paris wished that she could just knock them on their heads with something hard -maybe a book... her thick Economics book- and knock some sense into the both of them. She took in the way they looked at each other and a tiny wistful part of her wished that someone would look at her that way. Yet as quickly as the feeling came, she shook it away.
She glanced at her watch and gasped. "I have to go. I'll see you guys later," she said hurriedly. Without waiting for either of them to protest, she took off, only to situate herself at the end of the hallway amidst the crush of people so that she could discreetly watch them. 'Part 1 of the plan is in action,' she silently announced, restraining her victorious smile.
"Hey," he reached out, lightly touching her shoulder. The touch made her tilt her head up, their eyes meeting. Rory struggled to hide the blush that coloured her cheeks. "Are you all right?"
His concern made her smile. "Just feeling a little down, that's all," she answered honestly.
Tristan smiled weakly. "I know."
He knew? Her eyes widened in alarm. "You know?"
He shot her a perplexed look. "I know what you mean; I'm not feeling too good either." He saw relief wash over her face and wondered what was going through her mind. "Why? What did you think I mean?"
She shook her head and let out a short laugh. "Nothing, I'm just reading way too much into things. Not enough coffee today," she made excuses. He didn't look as though he was buying her excuses so when he finally grinned broadly, she heaved a silent sigh of relief.
"Not enough coffee? You had two cups instead of the usual four?" he teased, moving slightly to lean against the row of lockers between him. He crossed his arms and smirked.
Rory playfully jabbed his shoulder. "Hey, I'll have you know that the usual is not four." Her grin widened. "It's five. Get it right."
Tristan pretended to be affronted. "Oh, I beg your pardon, Princess Rory."
Rory tilted her head up and levelled him with a mock-condescending look. "Get on your knees and beg."
His eyes filled with amusement and he couldn't help leering at her. But before he could say anything, and Rory knew exactly what kind of comment was going to be said, the bell rang. He shrugged, his eyes twinkling in merriment. "Saved by the bell."
As Paris entered the classroom behind Rory, her eyes caught the wistful look in Tristan's eyes as he watched her. She saw the tiny smile that was curled his lips, giving away his feelings for her. She also noticed the way Rory's eyes had immediately gone to him the moment she came into the room.
She wanted to laugh at how obvious they were both and how neither realized the feelings were reciprocated.
As she passed by Tristan on her way to her desk, she mumbled, loud enough for him to hear, "The wagon hasn't moved on."
The scrape of the chair on the floor distracted Rory from her book. Marking down her place, she looked up and gave a small smile at the sight of Paris sitting opposite her.
"Why don't you just tell him?"
Rory's smile vanished as she contemplated what Paris had asked. Closing the book and setting it on the table, she met Paris' gaze squarely. "Why is it that you always seem to start a conversation with an ambiguous question?"
Paris shrugged but wasn't deterred. "C'mon Rory... don't play the fool. I've noticed that you like him. It's difficult not to notice it."
Rory's brows were furrowed in confusion. "Still not following."
"Do I need to spell it out for you?" Paris sighed.
"Well, looks like it." She thought she heard Paris muttering something that sounded suspiciously like "Idiot" but it was too inaudible and she couldn't be sure. .
"You and Tristan."
Rory groaned. "There's a me. There's a Tristan. But," she stressed the word, "there's no me and Tristan. Nada. Zilch. Not happening."
"Do you have to be so difficult?"
Rory shrugged. "Why don't you tell me? You've got being difficult down to an art form."
Her words sailed right past Paris who was too intent on squeezing the truth out of her. "Whatever it is, you want a you and Tristan, right?"
Rory's eyes narrowed. "Paris, what is this about?"
'Forget the plan.' She had a feeling that underhand tactics would backfire when it came to those two; there's nothing better than the straightforward approach. "This is about how completely and utterly stupid you and Tristan are being. It's obvious that you two like each other but you're both too stubborn, or maybe too proud, or hell maybe even insecure, to say anything. So I'm here to move things along."
It was easier to pretend that she didn't know what was going. "What are you talking about?"
Paris almost growled in frustration. She stood up and held her hands up in surrender. "Okay fine... pretend not to know what's going on. When you need help to win him over, and I know that you're gonna want him and I know you're gonna need help, look me up."
Rory watched Paris' departing figure and tried to push aside her words. Sighing, she picked up her book and resumed reading.
She nervously tore up the sugar wrapper into tiny pieces, her eyes darting to the door every few seconds. 'You have to do this.' she told herself every few minutes, when the urge to bolt arose. Sighing, she took a long gulp of coffee, nearly choking when she finally saw him enter the diner. As she reached for a napkin, she inhaled deeply in an effort to calm her racing heart.
"Hey."
She smiled, hoping that it didn't look too strained. "Hey, thanks for coming." She paused before blurting, "I didn't think you would."
Dean gave her a tentative smile in return as he wearily raked a hand through his hair. "I almost didn't," he confessed. "But I knew that we should talk. So I came."
"Well... thanks."
"I didn't do this for you, Rory," he sighed. "I did this for me, so that I can move on from this."
Her gaze fell to the table. "Oh."
There was an awkward silence before he spoke again. "So, what did you want to tell me?"
Rory swallowed thickly, wondering if she really could go through with this... and hurt him even more. "You're not gonna like what I have to say."
His laugh was tinged with a hint of bitterness and hurt. "It doesn't matter."
One last deep breath and she lifted her head and met his eyes. "I didn't tell you the complete truth about what happened during that weekend I spent at Hartford... when I had the amnesia." His face was carefully expressionless and the only indication that he was even listening to her came in the form of a nod. She went on, "I told you that I spent time with Tristan. I told you that nothing happened." She closed her eyes for a moment, knowing that this knowledge would drive the stake deeper into his heart. Her eyes opened and she bravely tried to keep her gaze on his. "I lied."
Her heart filled with guilt and regret as she saw hurt cloud his eyes and noticed how he clenched the edge of the table so hard that his knuckles turned white. "What-" He cleared his throat. "What happened?"
"Dean-"
"No," he shook his head vehemently. "I have to know."
"We... I-" she paused for a second, trying to regain her train of thought. "I couldn't remember anything and when I first regained consciousness, he was there and I thought he was someone special to me and he let me think that." Her eyes held this faraway look as she remembered the times they spent together. "I had a wonderful time with him... and I came to really like the Tristan I saw, the Tristan who cared for me." She broke off, seeing the tense set of Dean's jaw and the hard expression in his eyes.
Rory stifled a sigh and averted her eyes from him, focusing on the salt shaker on the table. "And then, when I regained my memory, things got complicated because there was you." She smiled slightly. "And there was him."
"Were you with-"
"No, no, no," she answered, anticipating his question. She shook her head, trying to emphasise her point. "No, I was not with him while I was with you. You know I wouldn't do that, Dean."
The relief that surged through him at her admission was fleeting but he cherished it nonetheless. He didn't think he could bear the thought of Rory being with him while they were still dating. That would have been too much for him to take. He processed the information she had give him, the pieces of the puzzle not falling into place; but he had to know more. "So?"
"So... I decided to stay with you and Tristan and I became friends," she stated simply.
His smile was sardonic. "And then I told you that I love you."
Rory chewed on her bottom lip. "Yeah."
"And?" He had a idea of what she was going to say and he knew it would hurt him. But, being the masochist that he was, he wanted to hear it. He wanted closure and what better closure than this?
"And... I thought of Tristan."
The puzzle was complete and it elicited such a bitter feeling in him. He smiled wryly. "That's why you couldn't say it."
"I do care for you, Dean," she explained. "But I couldn't say those words when there was someone else on my mind."
"I know," he said. After a short while, he told her, "Thank you for telling me this. It's not something I want to hear but I needed to hear it." He pushed his chair back, intending to leave when the touch of Rory's hand on his stopped him.
"I didn't mean to hurt you," she said softly.
"I know you didn't. But it still hurts."
"Dean," she bit her lip. "I hope that we can be friends. I don't wanna lose that."
"I don't know, Rory. We'll see, okay?"
"Okay."
He gave her a small smile before he stood. "I'll see you around."
"Are you sick of it yet?" asked the voice from behind her.
Rory stopped rummaging through her folder and turned to see Paris peering interestedly at her. "Why do you always speak in riddles?" she asked, exasperated.
Paris quickly pointed to the scene in front of them; Tristan was sitting at his desk with two girls around him. One of them was perched on his desk, her skirt hitched to mid-thigh as she leaned forward and fiddled with his tie, smiling coyly at him from behind her eyelashes. The other girl was standing next to her friend and laughing prettily, reaching out ever so often to touch his shoulder or his arm. Tristan just sat there, smiling politely; not encouraging them but not turning them away either.
Rory quelched the rising jealous that rose in her and feigned nonchalance. "What about that?" She shrugged. "It happens every day."
Paris stared at her and Rory just smiled brightly, trying to deflect any suspicions. "Yeah, it does happen every day."
Rory turned back to her folder but now her interest was piqued. Surreptitiously, she observed the action in front of her. She was used to such displays; ever since she had come to Chilton, girls had always sought him out but it never bothered her this much before. Previously, she was just indifferent to it but recently, it rankled on her nerves. Like yesterday, when she saw Summer cornering Tristan in the hallway or the day before when someone she recognized as Jennifer from her Biology class sat next to him in the cafeteria, smiling widely as she talked with him or the way girls always seemed to stop to say hello to him whenever they were talking in the hallway. 'No, you are not jealous. There is no reason to be jealous. He's not yours. He was never yours.'
Still, she let out a relieved breath when the teacher entered the room, putting an end to the flirtation. As attendance was called, Tristan turned his head slightly and caught her looking at her. She bit her lip, praying that he didn't realize that she had been staring at him for a while and returned the smile that he gave her.
Forcing thoughts of him out of her mind, she resolutely turned her attention to the teacher.
"Where's my favourite shoes? I need my shoes!" Lorelai screeched as she ransacked her bedroom. She paused and saw her daughter sitting motionless on her bed. "Why are you sitting down? Help me find my shoes!"
Her lips quirking into a small smile, Rory half-heartedly joined the search for the elusive pair of shoes. "Why can't you wear these?" she asked, holding up a similar pair of heels.
Lorelai put her hands on her hips and gave Rory a scathing look. "I can't wear those. They're.... they're not my favourite. And I always wear my favourite heels to the Hell dinners."
"Well," Rory put the shoes in her mother's hands. "You can start a new tradition wearing these shoes."
Lorelai threw the shoes to the floor and continued searching. "Nuh-uh. No other shoe can provide me with the same pleasure I get out of storming out of my mother's house as those well-loved heels."
Rory sat back down on the bed and observed the frantic attempts to locate the shoe. "You're weird."
Lorelai stuck her head out of her closet. "And you're moody." She delved back into the recesses of her messy wardrobe before triumphantly declaring "I found it!" She ambled back to the bed and sat down next to Rory, putting on the shoes. "What's up with you?"
"Nothing's up."
"I'm your mother, I know when you're lying."
"We have to get going, we're gonna be late," Rory said hurriedly, getting up. Before she could take a step, Lorelai grabbed her and pulled her back down.
"We're always late," Lorelai said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Your evasion tactics need work, missy!"
Rory sighed, knowing that she was cornered and it would be easier for everyone involved if she just capitulated. "Should I take a chance and tell him?"
Lorelai didn't need to ask who she was referring to; over the past few days, every other word that left her lips was his name and she knew that Rory was trying to sort things out in her mind. She wrapped an arm around Rory and drew her closer. "I think you should.... before you go crazy with all the 'what ifs'."
"What if he doesn't feel the same way?"
Lorelai hid a smile. From what Lane had told her, it definitely seemed as though he felt the same way and had for a long time. Rory just needed a little prodding. "Rory, there are no guarantees when it comes to things like that. You just do it. You take a risk and hope for the best. And you'll keep on taking risks because the pay-off is amazing. And now, you have to decide if he's worth taking a risk for."
Rory contemplated her mother's advice in silence, admitting to herself that she knew that he was worth it. But to put herself on the line like that, when she couldn't be sure if.... She would think about that later. Now, they had a dinner to go to.
"We really need to go," she stated, pulling away slightly and smiling.
Lorelai groaned but allowed Rory to pull her up and out of the house.