Hey everybody! I am SO sorry that it's been forever since I updated!
Here's the next part. Oh, and a big thank you to everybody who has
feedbacked. I'm writing this story for you guys so it makes me feel good
to know that you are enjoying it.
Jennie
Lost in the Shadows 6/?
Mornings Are Hard, Days Are Harder
The drab stone slabs in front of her looked more like a fortress than a school at the moment. Ironically, the sun chose to hide that day, leaving foreboding clouds streaking the darkened sky when the past week there hadn't been a cloud in sight.
Rory stood staring at the entrance looming ahead and she couldn't get herself to move. Her bare legs were jello, barely feeling the rush of the wind against them. She was terrified that she would enter the halls and find that the whole school knew about her and Tristan's indiscretion. Her mind drifted back to that night and she immediately felt a blush warm her cheeks.
'Don't think about it,' she admonished herself as her stomach began its familiar flip-flop associated with thoughts of Tristan. 'Happy thoughts, happy thoughts.'
Images of her exasperated mother from the night before caused a small smile to work its way to her lips. Lorelai had been locked out of the house and had pounded on Rory's window scaring Rory so badly that she had knocked Jess off the bed.
The sky grumbled loudly ruining the image. Sighing, she made her way to the building.
*****
Tristan leaned against the cool stone of the wall, hidden from view by a few trees. He hadn't meant to watch her. In fact, he had told himself repeatedly that he would just ignore her. He had to. It hurt too much to look at her.
So much for self-control.
She wore her hair loose today and he was mesmerized by the way it whipped around her wildly in the wind. While the other students darted inside for cover, she stayed, her face revealing her fear of what lay ahead.
Quietly, he slipped away to a side entrance, unable to look at her anymore.
*****
He had successfully avoided her for two and a half hours but he wouldn't be able to help it any longer because they unfortunately shared their next class together. He dawdled around, waiting until the very last moment to duck in and almost tripped out of surprise. Her seat was empty. He never beat her to class.
Slipping into his seat at the rear of the class, he looked up just as she stormed through the door. She was a wreck. Her hair stuck out everywhere rivaling Medusa's, her knee socks and skirt were muddy and her right knee was bandaged.
What affected him most was the fact that her eyes were rimmed in red leaving her looking haunted. She sat down as the bell rang, carefully avoiding his eyes. Okay, he should amend that. She was avoiding everyone's eyes.
Paris leaned over to her in mock concern and Tristan braced himself.
"Have you been crying, Rory?" She said it just loud enough for the entire class to hear.
Rory shot her a weak glare and Tristan saw Paris' face light up as she saw an opening. "No, it was a late night."
Paris smirked, the corner of her mouth twitching. "Ooh, did you have a boy over?" she asked mockingly.
God, he prayed she didn't cry. Her lip quivered momentarily and it took an enormous effort not to run over and intervene.
Thankfully, she held her ground. "Yes, how did you know? Jealous intuition?"
Tristan smirked at the gaping, speechless look on Paris' face and slouched in his seat.
And then her words hit him.
She had a guy over?
Maybe she and Dean got back together. He wouldn't be surprised; this wasn't the first time they had broken up. He slipped his pencil behind his ear as Paris glanced back at him, most likely hoping to see him heart- broken. Well, she was going to be sorely disappointed. Giving her a little wave and a suggestive wink, he took pleasure out of her frustrated sigh.
His eyes again traveled to the back of Rory's head. Her hair slipped, exposing the smooth skin in the crook of her neck and he itched to touch it. Thank God she was out of reach. One day his impulsiveness was going to get him in a lot of trouble. But as hard as it was, he would survive. He had endured two years of wanting but not touching and he would endure it as long as he needed as well.
The teacher impatiently cleared her throat and Tristan leaned back lazily in his seat, forcing his eyes on the clock above the white board.
50 minutes. He could last 50 minutes.
"Okay, before we get started, why don't you take out your papers and pass them forward." Tristan slipped his out of his thin folder and, although he'd never admit it, he had spent many days perfecting it. "Remember," the teacher continued on. "I will not take it if it's not in a folder."
An abrupt movement to the side caught his eye and he looked to Rory who was frantically digging through her overstuffed backpack.
"Miss Gilmore, is there something wrong?"
He couldn't see her face but he could tell by the shakiness of her voice that she was close to tears.
"I—I left it at home," she said quietly, staring down at her desk. A few people snickered and Tristan clenched his fist.
"I'm sorry but you know the rules. No extensions. You will have to take a zero."
Her head shot up. "But—"
The teacher held up her hand. "This is neither the time nor the place to make excuses. See me after class."
Rory nodded and he swallowed the lump in his throat. He was tempted to scribble his name off his paper and put hers on it instead but if she ended up talking the teacher into giving her an extension, he might screw everything up for her.
He passed his paper forward.
*****
Rory could barely lift her feet as she dragged her bag down the hall after her last class. There had never been a worst day than ever before in the history of days.
All she wanted to do was go home and curl up under tons of blankets and read a good book. That was if she could keep her eyes open long enough. She turned the corner and sighed. Just a few more feet to her locker. She glanced up and felt herself begin to smile.
Jess was casually leaning against her locker, hands stuffed deep into his pockets, looking sorely out of place in his black jeans, camouflage long sleeve shirt and black vest. Dropping her bag, she crossed to him quickly and laid her forehead on his chest.
"Save me," she mumbled into his shirt as he wrapped her in his arms comfortingly, chuckling.
"Oh, honey. Bad day?"
She nodded and reluctantly withdrew from his embrace.
*****
"How did you know which locker was mine?" she asked him, her eyes revealing just how worn out she was.
Jess nudged her. "A magician never reveals his secrets."
"Luckily, you're not a magician."
"Luckily. I'm secretly terrified of rabbits. Your mom happily gave me the number."
Rory smiled knowingly. "You gave her coffee didn't you."
"You know me well."
"No, I know my mother well."
Jess fidgeted and glanced around them. "You ready to go? I feel like I'm an exhibit in a zoo," he mumbled, gesturing to a group of girls staring at them.
Rory smiled up at him innocently. "Well, there IS a remarkable resemblance to a monkey."
"That's it. No caffeine for you." His eyes twinkled as he reached down to pick up the inconspicuous styrofoam cup at his feet.
"I take it all back. You are a beautiful, beautiful person whom I love very much." Jess rolled his eyes when her face naturally went into a wide- eyed puppy dog expression. She was so predictable.
"I'm only giving in because I want to get the hell out of here," he grumbled playfully and handed over the lukewarm cup, knowing she would down it even if it were ice cold. He chuckled at her scrunched face as she forced the liquid down. "Good stuff?"
She shrugged and began to work at her locker, still nursing the drink. Jess held in his smile as he worked his way through the milling crowd of plaid to where she had dropped her bag. Not finding it, he glanced around and found a blonde playboy holding it, staring off across the hall. Jess followed his gaze and found a blissfully unaware Rory on the receiving end.
He smirked knowingly. Looked like someone had an admirer. As much as he wanted to give the guy a hard time, he held his tongue for Rory's sake. She had a hard enough time in that hellhole of a school already. He didn't want to make it any harder.
"Hey man, is that Rory's?" he asked, hoping his humor in the situation wasn't evident. The guy turned slowly, a guarded expression on his face as he obviously measured Jess up and down. The action made Jess want to slam his fist into the guy's face but instead he cockily grinned and offered a hand. "I'm Jess," he said snorting when his hand was ignored. Mockingly, Jess smirked. "Got a thing for her?"
The guy's eyes narrowed but Jess was far from intimidated. He could hold his own.
"No," he growled gruffly before shoving the backpack into Jess' arms as he passed him to slip down a side hall.
"Uh huh." Jess strolled back to Rory holding the hefty bag for her while she packed it full of books. He was surprised the zipper didn't burst. "You got everything?" he asked jokingly.
Rory was oblivious to his sarcasm. "Yeah," she said in a dull monotone. "Hey, do you mind if we just head home?"
He took a moment to observe how exhausted her eyes looked. "Sure. I don't feel like making fun of teeny-boppers today anyway."
Nodding absently, she slammed her locker shut before downing the rest of her drink and tossing it into a nearby trash.
"Better?"
She grunted and began down the hall to the exit. Jess swung the backpack onto his shoulder and quickly jogged to catch up with her. "Dare I ask who caused you bodily harm?"
Looking up at him, her eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. "Drugs are bad, Jess."
"But it's the only way to make Stars Hollow bearable." He pointed to her bandaged knee and muddy skirt.
"Oh." He heard her mumble something unintelligibly.
"What was that? Seaweed horny?"
"You are one weird guy, Jess. Therapy is your friend."
They finally stepped outside into the chilly air. "Oh, no you don't. Changing the subject will not work with me. Spill."
"It's really a very boring story—me, a bench, a conveniently situated mud puddle, and some angry words. That pretty much covers it."
They reached his motorcycle and he tossed her her helmet. He had bought it for her last birthday and Lorelai instantly took it and decorated it much to his disgust. It was adorned with decoupage flowers, hearts, and smiley faces and HAD a big picture of Rory and Dean skiing the winter before on the back.
He grinned as she looked closer and noticed that he had carefully peeled the picture away and replaced it with one of Rory and Jess mid-argument at her grandma's.
She smiled, no doubt remembering that day. Never put down a Gilmore or their shoes.
Three generations of Gilmores had taught him that.
She slipped it on and beamed up at him. Opening her ridiculously heavy backpack and emptied the biggest books into the small compartment beneath his seat. Once it was full and Jess was adequately satisfied that if she put it on her back while riding, she wouldn't fall over backwards.
"Can I drive?"
"No," he answered automatically.
"You didn't even think about it," she pouted.
"Because I don't need to. It's never going to happen." He swung onto the bike and waited for Rory.
She paused a moment, hands poised on her hips. Finally, she sighed in resignation. "Party pooper." She climbed on behind him.
"Yep, I'm the poop in the party. Hold on to me or you'll be left behind."
"You know, I really can't stress therapy enough to you."
He started the engine and pulled away chuckling as a few girls whispered and pointed their way as Rory wrapped her arms around his waist. Expertly, he navigated through the parking lot until they hit traffic slowing them to practically a crawl. His gaze drifted to the immensely expensive cars surrounding them.
Oh, the fun he could have with these preppies.
To the right, he spied the blonde guy from earlier leaning against a black prowler, talking with a couple of guys but his eyes followed Rory.
Jess met his eyes and was surprised at the intensity of anger that was in them.
The cars in front of him moved, dragging his attention forward. When he glanced back, he was gone.
Jennie
Lost in the Shadows 6/?
Mornings Are Hard, Days Are Harder
The drab stone slabs in front of her looked more like a fortress than a school at the moment. Ironically, the sun chose to hide that day, leaving foreboding clouds streaking the darkened sky when the past week there hadn't been a cloud in sight.
Rory stood staring at the entrance looming ahead and she couldn't get herself to move. Her bare legs were jello, barely feeling the rush of the wind against them. She was terrified that she would enter the halls and find that the whole school knew about her and Tristan's indiscretion. Her mind drifted back to that night and she immediately felt a blush warm her cheeks.
'Don't think about it,' she admonished herself as her stomach began its familiar flip-flop associated with thoughts of Tristan. 'Happy thoughts, happy thoughts.'
Images of her exasperated mother from the night before caused a small smile to work its way to her lips. Lorelai had been locked out of the house and had pounded on Rory's window scaring Rory so badly that she had knocked Jess off the bed.
The sky grumbled loudly ruining the image. Sighing, she made her way to the building.
*****
Tristan leaned against the cool stone of the wall, hidden from view by a few trees. He hadn't meant to watch her. In fact, he had told himself repeatedly that he would just ignore her. He had to. It hurt too much to look at her.
So much for self-control.
She wore her hair loose today and he was mesmerized by the way it whipped around her wildly in the wind. While the other students darted inside for cover, she stayed, her face revealing her fear of what lay ahead.
Quietly, he slipped away to a side entrance, unable to look at her anymore.
*****
He had successfully avoided her for two and a half hours but he wouldn't be able to help it any longer because they unfortunately shared their next class together. He dawdled around, waiting until the very last moment to duck in and almost tripped out of surprise. Her seat was empty. He never beat her to class.
Slipping into his seat at the rear of the class, he looked up just as she stormed through the door. She was a wreck. Her hair stuck out everywhere rivaling Medusa's, her knee socks and skirt were muddy and her right knee was bandaged.
What affected him most was the fact that her eyes were rimmed in red leaving her looking haunted. She sat down as the bell rang, carefully avoiding his eyes. Okay, he should amend that. She was avoiding everyone's eyes.
Paris leaned over to her in mock concern and Tristan braced himself.
"Have you been crying, Rory?" She said it just loud enough for the entire class to hear.
Rory shot her a weak glare and Tristan saw Paris' face light up as she saw an opening. "No, it was a late night."
Paris smirked, the corner of her mouth twitching. "Ooh, did you have a boy over?" she asked mockingly.
God, he prayed she didn't cry. Her lip quivered momentarily and it took an enormous effort not to run over and intervene.
Thankfully, she held her ground. "Yes, how did you know? Jealous intuition?"
Tristan smirked at the gaping, speechless look on Paris' face and slouched in his seat.
And then her words hit him.
She had a guy over?
Maybe she and Dean got back together. He wouldn't be surprised; this wasn't the first time they had broken up. He slipped his pencil behind his ear as Paris glanced back at him, most likely hoping to see him heart- broken. Well, she was going to be sorely disappointed. Giving her a little wave and a suggestive wink, he took pleasure out of her frustrated sigh.
His eyes again traveled to the back of Rory's head. Her hair slipped, exposing the smooth skin in the crook of her neck and he itched to touch it. Thank God she was out of reach. One day his impulsiveness was going to get him in a lot of trouble. But as hard as it was, he would survive. He had endured two years of wanting but not touching and he would endure it as long as he needed as well.
The teacher impatiently cleared her throat and Tristan leaned back lazily in his seat, forcing his eyes on the clock above the white board.
50 minutes. He could last 50 minutes.
"Okay, before we get started, why don't you take out your papers and pass them forward." Tristan slipped his out of his thin folder and, although he'd never admit it, he had spent many days perfecting it. "Remember," the teacher continued on. "I will not take it if it's not in a folder."
An abrupt movement to the side caught his eye and he looked to Rory who was frantically digging through her overstuffed backpack.
"Miss Gilmore, is there something wrong?"
He couldn't see her face but he could tell by the shakiness of her voice that she was close to tears.
"I—I left it at home," she said quietly, staring down at her desk. A few people snickered and Tristan clenched his fist.
"I'm sorry but you know the rules. No extensions. You will have to take a zero."
Her head shot up. "But—"
The teacher held up her hand. "This is neither the time nor the place to make excuses. See me after class."
Rory nodded and he swallowed the lump in his throat. He was tempted to scribble his name off his paper and put hers on it instead but if she ended up talking the teacher into giving her an extension, he might screw everything up for her.
He passed his paper forward.
*****
Rory could barely lift her feet as she dragged her bag down the hall after her last class. There had never been a worst day than ever before in the history of days.
All she wanted to do was go home and curl up under tons of blankets and read a good book. That was if she could keep her eyes open long enough. She turned the corner and sighed. Just a few more feet to her locker. She glanced up and felt herself begin to smile.
Jess was casually leaning against her locker, hands stuffed deep into his pockets, looking sorely out of place in his black jeans, camouflage long sleeve shirt and black vest. Dropping her bag, she crossed to him quickly and laid her forehead on his chest.
"Save me," she mumbled into his shirt as he wrapped her in his arms comfortingly, chuckling.
"Oh, honey. Bad day?"
She nodded and reluctantly withdrew from his embrace.
*****
"How did you know which locker was mine?" she asked him, her eyes revealing just how worn out she was.
Jess nudged her. "A magician never reveals his secrets."
"Luckily, you're not a magician."
"Luckily. I'm secretly terrified of rabbits. Your mom happily gave me the number."
Rory smiled knowingly. "You gave her coffee didn't you."
"You know me well."
"No, I know my mother well."
Jess fidgeted and glanced around them. "You ready to go? I feel like I'm an exhibit in a zoo," he mumbled, gesturing to a group of girls staring at them.
Rory smiled up at him innocently. "Well, there IS a remarkable resemblance to a monkey."
"That's it. No caffeine for you." His eyes twinkled as he reached down to pick up the inconspicuous styrofoam cup at his feet.
"I take it all back. You are a beautiful, beautiful person whom I love very much." Jess rolled his eyes when her face naturally went into a wide- eyed puppy dog expression. She was so predictable.
"I'm only giving in because I want to get the hell out of here," he grumbled playfully and handed over the lukewarm cup, knowing she would down it even if it were ice cold. He chuckled at her scrunched face as she forced the liquid down. "Good stuff?"
She shrugged and began to work at her locker, still nursing the drink. Jess held in his smile as he worked his way through the milling crowd of plaid to where she had dropped her bag. Not finding it, he glanced around and found a blonde playboy holding it, staring off across the hall. Jess followed his gaze and found a blissfully unaware Rory on the receiving end.
He smirked knowingly. Looked like someone had an admirer. As much as he wanted to give the guy a hard time, he held his tongue for Rory's sake. She had a hard enough time in that hellhole of a school already. He didn't want to make it any harder.
"Hey man, is that Rory's?" he asked, hoping his humor in the situation wasn't evident. The guy turned slowly, a guarded expression on his face as he obviously measured Jess up and down. The action made Jess want to slam his fist into the guy's face but instead he cockily grinned and offered a hand. "I'm Jess," he said snorting when his hand was ignored. Mockingly, Jess smirked. "Got a thing for her?"
The guy's eyes narrowed but Jess was far from intimidated. He could hold his own.
"No," he growled gruffly before shoving the backpack into Jess' arms as he passed him to slip down a side hall.
"Uh huh." Jess strolled back to Rory holding the hefty bag for her while she packed it full of books. He was surprised the zipper didn't burst. "You got everything?" he asked jokingly.
Rory was oblivious to his sarcasm. "Yeah," she said in a dull monotone. "Hey, do you mind if we just head home?"
He took a moment to observe how exhausted her eyes looked. "Sure. I don't feel like making fun of teeny-boppers today anyway."
Nodding absently, she slammed her locker shut before downing the rest of her drink and tossing it into a nearby trash.
"Better?"
She grunted and began down the hall to the exit. Jess swung the backpack onto his shoulder and quickly jogged to catch up with her. "Dare I ask who caused you bodily harm?"
Looking up at him, her eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. "Drugs are bad, Jess."
"But it's the only way to make Stars Hollow bearable." He pointed to her bandaged knee and muddy skirt.
"Oh." He heard her mumble something unintelligibly.
"What was that? Seaweed horny?"
"You are one weird guy, Jess. Therapy is your friend."
They finally stepped outside into the chilly air. "Oh, no you don't. Changing the subject will not work with me. Spill."
"It's really a very boring story—me, a bench, a conveniently situated mud puddle, and some angry words. That pretty much covers it."
They reached his motorcycle and he tossed her her helmet. He had bought it for her last birthday and Lorelai instantly took it and decorated it much to his disgust. It was adorned with decoupage flowers, hearts, and smiley faces and HAD a big picture of Rory and Dean skiing the winter before on the back.
He grinned as she looked closer and noticed that he had carefully peeled the picture away and replaced it with one of Rory and Jess mid-argument at her grandma's.
She smiled, no doubt remembering that day. Never put down a Gilmore or their shoes.
Three generations of Gilmores had taught him that.
She slipped it on and beamed up at him. Opening her ridiculously heavy backpack and emptied the biggest books into the small compartment beneath his seat. Once it was full and Jess was adequately satisfied that if she put it on her back while riding, she wouldn't fall over backwards.
"Can I drive?"
"No," he answered automatically.
"You didn't even think about it," she pouted.
"Because I don't need to. It's never going to happen." He swung onto the bike and waited for Rory.
She paused a moment, hands poised on her hips. Finally, she sighed in resignation. "Party pooper." She climbed on behind him.
"Yep, I'm the poop in the party. Hold on to me or you'll be left behind."
"You know, I really can't stress therapy enough to you."
He started the engine and pulled away chuckling as a few girls whispered and pointed their way as Rory wrapped her arms around his waist. Expertly, he navigated through the parking lot until they hit traffic slowing them to practically a crawl. His gaze drifted to the immensely expensive cars surrounding them.
Oh, the fun he could have with these preppies.
To the right, he spied the blonde guy from earlier leaning against a black prowler, talking with a couple of guys but his eyes followed Rory.
Jess met his eyes and was surprised at the intensity of anger that was in them.
The cars in front of him moved, dragging his attention forward. When he glanced back, he was gone.