So We Meet Again - Chapter Four
Disclaimer: I own nothing, the WB owns everything, yadda yadda yadda. You know the drill. If you're going to sue, try someone who has more money than I do, k?
~
It was cool and damp out when Rory snuck out of her hotel room later that evening; first checking on her mother to make sure she was sound asleep. Indeed she was, with one blanket laying draped over one leg, Lorelai was as asleep as anyone could get. So glancing once more at the overhead clock, Rory decided then it was time to leave to meet Tristan.
Ever since they had last spoken at the restaurant earlier that evening, Rory hadn't been able to get him out of her mind. Which was odd, because despite all the drama the previous year, they really didn't know each other very well at all. But there was something in Tristan's voice, something she couldn't quite shake.
When she arrived at the pool at ten to eleven, the place was completely deserted, much to her dismay. Wrapping her woolen shawl around herself tighter, Rory parked herself on a nearby lounge chair, leaning back so she would have a full view of the entire area. She was early; after all, so there was still time for him to come.
Relaxing back into her seat, she sat there and waited. An eternity seemed to go by, and still no one came. Perhaps she would fall asleep out here, since she was getting nice and comfy. It was entirely possible. If Tristan didn't show up soon she couldn't make any promises.
As she was about to settle into a comfortable sleep - well, as comfortable as you could get sitting up - she heard a noise to her left, and then the sound of quickening footsteps. Thud, thud, thud. He had come after all.
"Sorry I'm late," came a voice that was obviously Tristan's. Rory craned her neck around to see him standing by the entranceway; one arm leaning up against the wall as he gazed at her. She suddenly hugged her legs together, feeling uncomfortable in her own skin, although she didn't know why. She had known about his crush on her for awhile now, almost the entire year they attended Chilton together, so this shouldn't have been anything new. It really shouldn't have been.
"Not as sorry as I am," she quipped. "I was just about to get some much needed sleep before you came in."
"Well then I'll just go and let you get back to your beauty rest."
Her eyes turned to slits as she glared at him. "You're not getting out of this one, Tristan."
"I don't know what you think it is that I'm getting out of but-"
"You know very well what I'm talking about," she said, scowling at him. Rising to her feet, she headed towards where he was standing. "How about we start with those cryptic messages you were giving me earlier."
"Huh?"
"Don't play dumb, Tristan. Although that wouldn't' be very hard for you, since you wouldn't really be playing at all."
"Ha Ha. Thanks for the vote of confidence, Mary," he muttered sarcastically, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes.
She tapped her fingers on the railing that was overlooking the pool where they stood. "I see the subtle approach isn't going to work, so I'm going to ask this point blank; what is it you wanted to tell me before?"
"Oh...that." He nervously studied his feet while she eyed him with suspicion. "Um, maybe we should be sitting down for this."
"Why?"
"Because it's sort of a long story."
"I'm good with standing." And to prove just that, she stood exactly where she was, arms folded neatly across chest. She wasn't going to let his stall tactics get to her.
"Okay, then." He paused for a minute, as if relaying the story to himself in his head. She saw a pained look flash across his face for just a second, but then it was gone. "Where do I begin?"
"How about with the reason you wouldn't let my mother see you earlier."
"I ran away from military school...and I didn't want your mom to see me because I was afraid she'd tell my parents where I was," he said, all in one breath, and when he was done he averted his eyes from her.
Her mouth hang open while she digested what he had just said. That was heavy. Very heavy. "Wow, Tristan...I don't know what to say."
He gave a slight sneer. "How about 'congrats, Tristan, you just screwed your life up,'"
"I wasn't going to say that," she said softly, suddenly feeling sorry for him. "But you're right, I don't like the fact that you ran away. Do you have any idea how many people are probably worried about you write now?"
Tristan gave a bitter laugh, as if that was the funniest thing he ever heard. "They'll get over it."
She was shocked. "How can you say that?"
"Easily. My folks didn't give a damn about me when I WAS around, and then they were only too happy to get rid of me, hence shipping me off to military school."
"Still, I'm sure they're worried sick. I mean, they don't have a clue as to where you are - if you've been kidnapped or lying in a ditch somewhere. You really should give them a call, at the very least,'
"Why, so they can haul my ass back to military school? No thanks. That option doesn't sound very pleasant."
She sighed, exasperated by his behavior. "So why'd you run away?" she finally asked, breaking the silence that had fallen between them.
"There are many reasons," he began, recalling the hell that had been his life once he had been sent away. "The biggest being I couldn't stand anyone or anything in that place. Not to sound dramatic, but it was absolute hell."
"So why didn't you talk to your parents about it?" she questioned, the pity in her stomach building. She couldn't help it; she felt genuinely sorry for Tristan. He really did sound lost.
"Don't you think I tried? I practically begged my dad to reconsider his decision to send me away to military school...but to no avail."
Rory nodded her head, finally beginning to understand what had driven him to do what he did. She knew it couldn't have been an easy decision. "I'm sorry."
"Don't worry about it."
"No, seriously. I guess I just didn't realize that some people don't have it as easy with their parents as I do."
"It's okay."
"So how long are you planning to stay here?" she asked, glancing around at the small motel; the chipped paint catching her eye. Somehow she wouldn't have expected Tristan to be staying in a place like this. It just didn't seem his type.
"I'm leaving tomorrow, actually. Got a plane ticket and everything."
"Oh," she said, her voice completely devoid of any emotion. A deep pang of sadness erupted in her stomach just then, and she didn't quite know why.
"It will be nice to get away."
"Yeah." Her gaze shifted to the ground, becoming fascinated by the bits of dead grass at her feet. Funny how things worked.
Her cell phone rang, interrupting....well, nothing, as neither of them had spoke for quite sometime. Taking the phone from her pocket and answering, she said, "Hello?"
"Hey."
"Dean?!"
Tristan could only let out a smirk at the obvious shock in her voice.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, the WB owns everything, yadda yadda yadda. You know the drill. If you're going to sue, try someone who has more money than I do, k?
~
It was cool and damp out when Rory snuck out of her hotel room later that evening; first checking on her mother to make sure she was sound asleep. Indeed she was, with one blanket laying draped over one leg, Lorelai was as asleep as anyone could get. So glancing once more at the overhead clock, Rory decided then it was time to leave to meet Tristan.
Ever since they had last spoken at the restaurant earlier that evening, Rory hadn't been able to get him out of her mind. Which was odd, because despite all the drama the previous year, they really didn't know each other very well at all. But there was something in Tristan's voice, something she couldn't quite shake.
When she arrived at the pool at ten to eleven, the place was completely deserted, much to her dismay. Wrapping her woolen shawl around herself tighter, Rory parked herself on a nearby lounge chair, leaning back so she would have a full view of the entire area. She was early; after all, so there was still time for him to come.
Relaxing back into her seat, she sat there and waited. An eternity seemed to go by, and still no one came. Perhaps she would fall asleep out here, since she was getting nice and comfy. It was entirely possible. If Tristan didn't show up soon she couldn't make any promises.
As she was about to settle into a comfortable sleep - well, as comfortable as you could get sitting up - she heard a noise to her left, and then the sound of quickening footsteps. Thud, thud, thud. He had come after all.
"Sorry I'm late," came a voice that was obviously Tristan's. Rory craned her neck around to see him standing by the entranceway; one arm leaning up against the wall as he gazed at her. She suddenly hugged her legs together, feeling uncomfortable in her own skin, although she didn't know why. She had known about his crush on her for awhile now, almost the entire year they attended Chilton together, so this shouldn't have been anything new. It really shouldn't have been.
"Not as sorry as I am," she quipped. "I was just about to get some much needed sleep before you came in."
"Well then I'll just go and let you get back to your beauty rest."
Her eyes turned to slits as she glared at him. "You're not getting out of this one, Tristan."
"I don't know what you think it is that I'm getting out of but-"
"You know very well what I'm talking about," she said, scowling at him. Rising to her feet, she headed towards where he was standing. "How about we start with those cryptic messages you were giving me earlier."
"Huh?"
"Don't play dumb, Tristan. Although that wouldn't' be very hard for you, since you wouldn't really be playing at all."
"Ha Ha. Thanks for the vote of confidence, Mary," he muttered sarcastically, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes.
She tapped her fingers on the railing that was overlooking the pool where they stood. "I see the subtle approach isn't going to work, so I'm going to ask this point blank; what is it you wanted to tell me before?"
"Oh...that." He nervously studied his feet while she eyed him with suspicion. "Um, maybe we should be sitting down for this."
"Why?"
"Because it's sort of a long story."
"I'm good with standing." And to prove just that, she stood exactly where she was, arms folded neatly across chest. She wasn't going to let his stall tactics get to her.
"Okay, then." He paused for a minute, as if relaying the story to himself in his head. She saw a pained look flash across his face for just a second, but then it was gone. "Where do I begin?"
"How about with the reason you wouldn't let my mother see you earlier."
"I ran away from military school...and I didn't want your mom to see me because I was afraid she'd tell my parents where I was," he said, all in one breath, and when he was done he averted his eyes from her.
Her mouth hang open while she digested what he had just said. That was heavy. Very heavy. "Wow, Tristan...I don't know what to say."
He gave a slight sneer. "How about 'congrats, Tristan, you just screwed your life up,'"
"I wasn't going to say that," she said softly, suddenly feeling sorry for him. "But you're right, I don't like the fact that you ran away. Do you have any idea how many people are probably worried about you write now?"
Tristan gave a bitter laugh, as if that was the funniest thing he ever heard. "They'll get over it."
She was shocked. "How can you say that?"
"Easily. My folks didn't give a damn about me when I WAS around, and then they were only too happy to get rid of me, hence shipping me off to military school."
"Still, I'm sure they're worried sick. I mean, they don't have a clue as to where you are - if you've been kidnapped or lying in a ditch somewhere. You really should give them a call, at the very least,'
"Why, so they can haul my ass back to military school? No thanks. That option doesn't sound very pleasant."
She sighed, exasperated by his behavior. "So why'd you run away?" she finally asked, breaking the silence that had fallen between them.
"There are many reasons," he began, recalling the hell that had been his life once he had been sent away. "The biggest being I couldn't stand anyone or anything in that place. Not to sound dramatic, but it was absolute hell."
"So why didn't you talk to your parents about it?" she questioned, the pity in her stomach building. She couldn't help it; she felt genuinely sorry for Tristan. He really did sound lost.
"Don't you think I tried? I practically begged my dad to reconsider his decision to send me away to military school...but to no avail."
Rory nodded her head, finally beginning to understand what had driven him to do what he did. She knew it couldn't have been an easy decision. "I'm sorry."
"Don't worry about it."
"No, seriously. I guess I just didn't realize that some people don't have it as easy with their parents as I do."
"It's okay."
"So how long are you planning to stay here?" she asked, glancing around at the small motel; the chipped paint catching her eye. Somehow she wouldn't have expected Tristan to be staying in a place like this. It just didn't seem his type.
"I'm leaving tomorrow, actually. Got a plane ticket and everything."
"Oh," she said, her voice completely devoid of any emotion. A deep pang of sadness erupted in her stomach just then, and she didn't quite know why.
"It will be nice to get away."
"Yeah." Her gaze shifted to the ground, becoming fascinated by the bits of dead grass at her feet. Funny how things worked.
Her cell phone rang, interrupting....well, nothing, as neither of them had spoke for quite sometime. Taking the phone from her pocket and answering, she said, "Hello?"
"Hey."
"Dean?!"
Tristan could only let out a smirk at the obvious shock in her voice.