King of Fools
By Lexy
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. In fact today they came to take away my bed and are waiting for me to finish typing so they can take away my puter (ok so exaggeration is my strong point and none of that is true except for the part were I said I don't own Gilmore Girls or any of its characters. If I did I wouldn't have to take the T everywhere.)
AN: Next chapter will contain Knees, I promise. I just wanted to play around with Jess this chapter. Buttmosphere is an inside joke. Just play along and pretend you get it. You may qualify for a cookie if you do, but only if you act really, really well. If you dear readers are ever in Harvard Square (and are of, umm, legal age) I really do suggest stopping at Hong Kong and ordering a Scorpion Bowl. If you finish it you will definitely get more than a cookie. I am babbling now…. On with the story
"Tell me life gets better."
"Life gets better."
"Are you just saying that?"
"Yup."
Tristan sighed and flopped over on the bed, sending his history book flying. Jessi looked up from a textbook that was much larger than her head and gazed over to where Tristan was sprawled.
"Gosh Wallace, aren't we happy today. So what is with the great need for life to get better? What is wrong with it now?"
"Nothing Grommit," Tristan said looking around the dorm room. He had been spending most of his weekends since the reunion in Cambridge. He didn't mind the two-hour trip; Jessi and he had bummed around Boston for most of the summer. He had been happy until school started, forgetting all of his troubles and indulging in the one close friendship he had. But summer had ended, school had started and he saw her again. She didn't know he watched her. He was very careful this time. Whenever she looked at him he pretended to be absorbed in something else. At first she had seemed bewildered and even a little angry by this behavior, but after a few days she had accepted it and seemed to be enjoying herself at Chilton. She spent a great deal of time with Paris and her new beau. Part of Tristan was dying with the need to talk to her, to interact, to feel close to her. *But I am too scared. Scared of seeing the expression of pity in her eyes or even worse, the look of pure loathing. She hates me, she said so. She is with him…*
"…. Hey Wallace… Earth to Tristan… Buttmosphere 1 to Buttmosphere 2, come in…"Jessi's voice broke through Tristan's musings. "Again with the long face that not even the Donnas can bring a smile too. You going to tell me what is making you ask the 'big life questions'? Is it her?"
Tristan groaned. He and Jess had gone back and forth on Rory at least once a weekend without ever mentioning her name. Jess preferred the anonymity of it, 'too much temptation to go look her up if I know who she is', she insisted. "Partly because of her, but more just the need to be reassured that life does get better after high school."
"For some people it doesn't, little'un. Life is only as good as you make it, or as bad. Half of the world is obsessed with what happens after death, how much worse or better it is going to be, so much so that they forget about the here and now. Life is not an end to a means; it is just a means. Only your actions control how good your life is. If you work hard, play hard and live each moment like it is never going to be again, which it isn't, then you have only begun to experience how good life can be."
"Jess, sometimes you are so full of crap. Trust you to turn teenage angst into a pontification on the nature of life."
"Ahhh, but little'un, you listen."
"Yes I do. Don't know why most of the time, I mean it isn't like you know what you are talking about." WHAM! Tristan rubbed his head where the flying book had made a connection. "Hey!!"
"Hey nothing. I have had a little more life experience than you little'un, although many less women…" she ducked as the book returned in her direction. "And it seems I have much better aim. Come on, let's take a walk."
They wandered around Harvard square for a good half of an hour until Jessi had launched into what seemed to on its way to becoming a long diatribe on the evils of the Scorpion Bowl after passing by a lounge named Hong Kong, Tristan suggested they take the T into Boston and hang out in the Commons. One train ride, three street musicians and two cups of coffee later found them sitting on a bench near the Public Gardens. Deep into a discussion on the finer points of independent American film, Tristan suddenly felt as if someone has walked over his grave. He looked up to see a figure in black heading towards them. "We have company." Jessi looked quickly behind her. , "Shit," she mumbled. "You know him?" Unfortunately, I used to fuck him."
The figure strode up to the bench. "Hello Liz, going prep these days are we? He is a little young isn't he?"
"The name is Jessi, Damien. This is my cousin Tristan. I didn't know you were back in town."
"Miss me?"
"As much as I miss pulling out my own toe nails with rusty pillars."
"I always knew you liked pain."
"I must have to have been able to put up with you, wait that wasn't pain, that was atrophy from boredom."
"Maybe we should try again, if you move it might make things more interesting."
"It would take ten flying monkeys, Chinese fireworks and a bottle of shoe polish to make sex with you interesting Damien."
"As feisty as ever Liz. What is the shoe polish for?"
"To stick up your ass."
"We could always try, I am always up for anything."
"No you aren't Damien, or at least not for long enough to make it worth while. Match point, I think we are done now."
"Almost…" Damien pulled Jessi off the bench and kissed her. Tristan, sitting forgotten, watched Jessi's muscles strain from her determination not to enjoy it. Damien broke off the kiss and allowed Jessi to sink back onto the bench. He smirked at her and turned on his heel to leave.
"I will see you later Liz," he called over his shoulder.
"It is Jessi," she whispered after him, watching him until he was out of sight. She shook herself and turned back to Tristan who was staring at her with a raised eyebrow.
"I guess you could say that is my him."
Monday morning came too early for Tristan. He had not wanted to leave Cambridge and Chilton looked even more like Jessi's "Dungeon" this morning. He sighed and entered the building.
Paris and Nathan were sitting in the classroom when Tristan entered, Nathan's fingers making lazy circles around Paris's knee.
"Paris, Milk Maid," Tristan greeted them. She wasn't there so talking to them was safe.
"Tristan," Nathan replied evenly, "just trying to show Paris that everyone has a ticklish spot behind there knees."
"There are plenty more places where I am ticklish Nathan. They just take a little more exploring to find."
Tristan's jaw dropped. Paris's newfound forwardism amazed him.
"Reattach your jaw to your head fishboy," Paris quipped. "And quit looking around for her. She is not going to be in today, not after what happened Friday."
"What happened on Friday?"
AN: Heh, ending there for tonight. So the Knees decided to sneak in at the last moment without telling me before hand, silly Knees. As for what happened on Friday, just wait my pretties.