Author's Note- I'm really sorry for the huge delay in an update. My life is insane right now, and I appreciate the patience. Finals, my family… but excuses don't make new chapters come any sooner. Thanks for hanging in there with me. Also, thanks for all the great reviews. They're what keep me writing.
As another little note- I didn't really intend for there to be a relationship between the meaning of the song and the story. In all honesty, I was sitting here waiting to upload it when I realized I needed a title. I had been singing it all day, and it just seemed to work, so I used it. I guess in my mind I meant that Tristan sees her as the last truly beautiful girl, and as I listen to it now, more and more of the song begins to fit. Try listening to Matchbox Twenty's "Last Beautiful Girl" as you read this.
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Last Beautiful Girl
Chapter Two - Coffee and Tristan
Rory's hands trembled as she walked towards the bus stop, the soft early autumn grass springing lightly beneath her feet.
I cannot believe I just did that.
She exhaled slowly, attempting to shake the feeling coursing through her body. She could still feel Tristan's hands sifting through her hair, his soft lips gently against hers, could still hear the surprised gasp he let out when she grabbed him, the little moan as her fingers ran across his chest.
Rory Gilmore, you're an idiot.
She sat down at the bench, dropping her bag and jacket on the ground next to her, her head falling lightly into her hands.
An hour later she was still sitting there deep in thought when she felt the bench shift and heard the bus pulling up to the curb. Rory raised her head slowly, her hands running across her face, pulling her hair back. She was leaning over to collect her things when she saw him sitting next to her.
Tristan's eyes were focused on her lips, confusion washing across his features. He bit his lip unconsciously, and later that week Rory would refuse to admit exactly what she was thinking when she remembered how he looked. Rory had never seen his face so troubled. He sat motionless, blue eyes examining her. Only now he wasn't looking hungrily at her body.
The bus came to a stop in front of them, the door sliding open with a gust of wind. She held her jacket tightly against her stomach, standing up and getting on the bus, her eyes never leaving him. The bus ride home was a quiet one.
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Rory didn't remember getting off of the bus and walking towards the diner. She didn't remember pushing open the door, hearing the familiar jingle of the bell, and sitting down across from her mother in front of the window. But she did remember Luke slamming down a huge mug of coffee in front of her, grunting, and walking away. The steaming brown liquid splashed against the sides of the mug, nearly spilling onto her hands, carefully folded in front of her.
"I don't want any." she said, pushing it away.
Lorelai reached across the table, grabbing for the coffee. Rory smacked her hand.
"Uh oh. All is not well in the land of Chilton, mmm?"
Rory sighed.
"Oh come on. You didn't even comment on my Yoda impression." Lorelai pouted, jabbing her daughter in the arm with a salt shaker.
"Sorry mom, I've kind of got other things on my mind."
Lorelai grabbed a handful of straws from the jar on the table and began unwrapping them. "Like what?"
"I just… nothing."
"Liar! Fiend! Fabricator of the truth! Don't lie, I know better. After all, Rory." Her voice deepened. "I am your mother."
"Enough with the Star Wars. And take that napkin dispenser off of your face. You don't know where that thing's been." Rory leaned across the table, pulling it away from her mother, who was busy trying to get a man sitting at a nearby table to show her his light saber.
"You never let me have any fun. Boring Rory." Lorelai began to pout, then settled down, suddenly remembering her daughter's mysterious dilemma. "So what's up, babe?"
Rory stared deep into her now cold coffee, muttering something unintelligible.
"Wow, I'm sorry, but for some strange reason I couldn't understand a word you just said."
She mumbled again, this time only speaking two words clearly- Tristan and stupid.
"Tristan? You what?"
Rory looked up. "I kissed him."
"You what?!"
"I kissed him." she repeated slowly.
Lorelai leaned over the table, prying one of Rory's eyes open and peering into the bright blue. "Rory, if you're in there somewhere, you've been abducted by the crazy, Tristan-kissing body snatchers. Just keep drinking the coffee, hon. Keep drinking the coffee!"
Rory jerked away from her mother's grasp. "Leave me alone." She thumped her head against the menu on the diner table, groaning. "I can't believe I did that."
"I can."
"Shut up."
"He's hot. I'd do him."
"I didn't ask you, Mrs. Robinson."
"Hey, you're the one that kissed him."
Rory sighed. "This conversation isn't helping."
"Well, maybe if you'd stop talking into the table…" Lorelai swatted at her daughter's head, sneaking a sip out of her coffee cup.
"I saw that."
"Saw what?" Lorelai asked innocently. "So, back to you making out with the hot guy. At Chilton." She giggled. "Wait until mom hears about this. She'll just love what a good impression you're making on the good people of Hartford."
Rory groaned again.
"I wonder if you'll get a little letter that you have to wear. Only maybe yours can be an R for Rory. And it can be blue with little frills all over it, and a little heart along the side with a picture of you and Tristan."
"Mom! If you don't stop now, I'm taking a sledgehammer to the coffee pot once we get home."
Lorelai gasped. "Blasphemy!" she screeched, slapping a hand to her cheek. "You devil child. Need I remind you how many hours I was in labor, bringing you onto this earth? That I was the one that introduced you to the drink of the gods?"
Rory wordlessly flung her napkin into Lorelai's half-full coffee cup, then set her head back down on the table.
"I hate you."
"Now that's not a smart thing to say to the woman in charge of making your coffee every day."
A plate of oatmeal raisin cookies were set down gruffly in front of Rory, making the table shake and her head crash back down violently.
"Now I know that didn't help."
"Shut up and eat your cookies. And get your head off of my table." Luke turned and walked off.
Rory sat up slowly, afraid to open her eyes. "Mom… what do I do? I kissed him. I hate him… and I kissed him."
Lorelai reached for a cookie, pulling back quickly as she was swatted away. "Well, maybe you don't hate him."
"What? How could I not? He hates me. He tries to make my life miserable. And what do I do? I ram my tongue down his throat."
"Well then. You didn't mention any ramming of tongues. That changes everything." Lorelai grabbed Luke as he passed, ordering a cheese danish with a series of complicated hand gestures.
Rory sighed again. "Mom?"
"Yeah, babe?"
"I'm going home."
Lorelai reached over and ruffled her daughter's hair lovingly. "I hope you feel better, babe. Go call Lane and giggle over how dreamy Tristan is. And argue over who has a nicer butt, Tristan or Ricky Martin. Oh, and Rory?"
Rory rolled her eyes, pushing her chair back in underneath the table. "Yeah, Mom?"
"Are you going to finish your coffee?"
Without another word, Rory grabbed her coffee cup and the danish out of Luke's hand and turned and walked out of the diner.
As another little note- I didn't really intend for there to be a relationship between the meaning of the song and the story. In all honesty, I was sitting here waiting to upload it when I realized I needed a title. I had been singing it all day, and it just seemed to work, so I used it. I guess in my mind I meant that Tristan sees her as the last truly beautiful girl, and as I listen to it now, more and more of the song begins to fit. Try listening to Matchbox Twenty's "Last Beautiful Girl" as you read this.
--------
Last Beautiful Girl
Chapter Two - Coffee and Tristan
Rory's hands trembled as she walked towards the bus stop, the soft early autumn grass springing lightly beneath her feet.
I cannot believe I just did that.
She exhaled slowly, attempting to shake the feeling coursing through her body. She could still feel Tristan's hands sifting through her hair, his soft lips gently against hers, could still hear the surprised gasp he let out when she grabbed him, the little moan as her fingers ran across his chest.
Rory Gilmore, you're an idiot.
She sat down at the bench, dropping her bag and jacket on the ground next to her, her head falling lightly into her hands.
An hour later she was still sitting there deep in thought when she felt the bench shift and heard the bus pulling up to the curb. Rory raised her head slowly, her hands running across her face, pulling her hair back. She was leaning over to collect her things when she saw him sitting next to her.
Tristan's eyes were focused on her lips, confusion washing across his features. He bit his lip unconsciously, and later that week Rory would refuse to admit exactly what she was thinking when she remembered how he looked. Rory had never seen his face so troubled. He sat motionless, blue eyes examining her. Only now he wasn't looking hungrily at her body.
The bus came to a stop in front of them, the door sliding open with a gust of wind. She held her jacket tightly against her stomach, standing up and getting on the bus, her eyes never leaving him. The bus ride home was a quiet one.
--------
Rory didn't remember getting off of the bus and walking towards the diner. She didn't remember pushing open the door, hearing the familiar jingle of the bell, and sitting down across from her mother in front of the window. But she did remember Luke slamming down a huge mug of coffee in front of her, grunting, and walking away. The steaming brown liquid splashed against the sides of the mug, nearly spilling onto her hands, carefully folded in front of her.
"I don't want any." she said, pushing it away.
Lorelai reached across the table, grabbing for the coffee. Rory smacked her hand.
"Uh oh. All is not well in the land of Chilton, mmm?"
Rory sighed.
"Oh come on. You didn't even comment on my Yoda impression." Lorelai pouted, jabbing her daughter in the arm with a salt shaker.
"Sorry mom, I've kind of got other things on my mind."
Lorelai grabbed a handful of straws from the jar on the table and began unwrapping them. "Like what?"
"I just… nothing."
"Liar! Fiend! Fabricator of the truth! Don't lie, I know better. After all, Rory." Her voice deepened. "I am your mother."
"Enough with the Star Wars. And take that napkin dispenser off of your face. You don't know where that thing's been." Rory leaned across the table, pulling it away from her mother, who was busy trying to get a man sitting at a nearby table to show her his light saber.
"You never let me have any fun. Boring Rory." Lorelai began to pout, then settled down, suddenly remembering her daughter's mysterious dilemma. "So what's up, babe?"
Rory stared deep into her now cold coffee, muttering something unintelligible.
"Wow, I'm sorry, but for some strange reason I couldn't understand a word you just said."
She mumbled again, this time only speaking two words clearly- Tristan and stupid.
"Tristan? You what?"
Rory looked up. "I kissed him."
"You what?!"
"I kissed him." she repeated slowly.
Lorelai leaned over the table, prying one of Rory's eyes open and peering into the bright blue. "Rory, if you're in there somewhere, you've been abducted by the crazy, Tristan-kissing body snatchers. Just keep drinking the coffee, hon. Keep drinking the coffee!"
Rory jerked away from her mother's grasp. "Leave me alone." She thumped her head against the menu on the diner table, groaning. "I can't believe I did that."
"I can."
"Shut up."
"He's hot. I'd do him."
"I didn't ask you, Mrs. Robinson."
"Hey, you're the one that kissed him."
Rory sighed. "This conversation isn't helping."
"Well, maybe if you'd stop talking into the table…" Lorelai swatted at her daughter's head, sneaking a sip out of her coffee cup.
"I saw that."
"Saw what?" Lorelai asked innocently. "So, back to you making out with the hot guy. At Chilton." She giggled. "Wait until mom hears about this. She'll just love what a good impression you're making on the good people of Hartford."
Rory groaned again.
"I wonder if you'll get a little letter that you have to wear. Only maybe yours can be an R for Rory. And it can be blue with little frills all over it, and a little heart along the side with a picture of you and Tristan."
"Mom! If you don't stop now, I'm taking a sledgehammer to the coffee pot once we get home."
Lorelai gasped. "Blasphemy!" she screeched, slapping a hand to her cheek. "You devil child. Need I remind you how many hours I was in labor, bringing you onto this earth? That I was the one that introduced you to the drink of the gods?"
Rory wordlessly flung her napkin into Lorelai's half-full coffee cup, then set her head back down on the table.
"I hate you."
"Now that's not a smart thing to say to the woman in charge of making your coffee every day."
A plate of oatmeal raisin cookies were set down gruffly in front of Rory, making the table shake and her head crash back down violently.
"Now I know that didn't help."
"Shut up and eat your cookies. And get your head off of my table." Luke turned and walked off.
Rory sat up slowly, afraid to open her eyes. "Mom… what do I do? I kissed him. I hate him… and I kissed him."
Lorelai reached for a cookie, pulling back quickly as she was swatted away. "Well, maybe you don't hate him."
"What? How could I not? He hates me. He tries to make my life miserable. And what do I do? I ram my tongue down his throat."
"Well then. You didn't mention any ramming of tongues. That changes everything." Lorelai grabbed Luke as he passed, ordering a cheese danish with a series of complicated hand gestures.
Rory sighed again. "Mom?"
"Yeah, babe?"
"I'm going home."
Lorelai reached over and ruffled her daughter's hair lovingly. "I hope you feel better, babe. Go call Lane and giggle over how dreamy Tristan is. And argue over who has a nicer butt, Tristan or Ricky Martin. Oh, and Rory?"
Rory rolled her eyes, pushing her chair back in underneath the table. "Yeah, Mom?"
"Are you going to finish your coffee?"
Without another word, Rory grabbed her coffee cup and the danish out of Luke's hand and turned and walked out of the diner.
