Rory- Hiding From Those You Love
I run down the stairs, breathing hard. Kissing Jess always leaves me like that. Mom stares at me, wondering what I was doing.
"Running up and down stairs is very tiring," I answer, walking out to the car.
I want to tell Mom everything, mostly about Jess. I want to share it with her. I share everything with her. But no matter how much I want to talk to her about my current situation, I can't. She won't understand. She tries to be the 'cool mom,' but she won't be cool about this. Jess is everything she doesn't want for me, and in order for me to be able to see Jess, I can't tell Mom.
The car is quiet on the way over. Our usual banter is gone, there isn't even a fuss over ringing the doorbell. Mom just rings it. She can tell something is wrong. I can tell she's hurt that I won't share it with her. But knowing will hurt her more.
I plaster a smile on my face when Grandma answers the door. I don't want to be here. I'd rather be with Jess, but I can't skip Friday night dinner with out getting the third degree.
I greet Grandpa and we dive into a discussion about Hemingway before dinner. Mom's surprised because she remembers my dislike for the author. I've been reading him lately, for Jess. I think Mom's figured that out, after all, no one else would be able to influence my literary choice.
Dinner is ready and I can't wait to stuff my mouth and get out. This night can't be over soon enough. Mom, Grandma, and Grandpa, get into a debate about the running of the Inn. My mind wanders to the dark haired boy waiting for me back in Stars Hollow.
I can't wait to touch him. I begin to daydream about heated make out sessions between us. I can practically feel his hands running up my legs. I can feel his breath on my face as he whispers to me. I smile and lose myself in the feeling.
"RORY!" Mom shouts. She finally has my attention. My head snaps up to see what she wants. "What wrong, hun? You seem distracted."
I try to stop my face from turning red. I can't believe I was just thinking about that, sitting here with my grandparents at dinner. "Just thinking about school stuff."
Mom nods, not buying it, and goes back to discussing current events with her parents.
I try to pay attention, but I can't keep my mind focused. My thoughts still drift to Jess. I imagine running my hands along his chest and up his arms. I want to feel his mouth on mine. I lick my lips, trying to recreate the sensation of his tongue in my mouth. I close my eyes, trying to remember every detail about him, my body relaxes and I slouch down into my chair.
"RORY!" Grandma snaps at me.
"Yes?" I ask, smiling weakly.
"Are you sure you're okay?" she asks, concerned.
I don't want to worry her. But I don't think I can stay here another second without going crazy and moaning in my daydreams.
"Actually, I'm feeling a little sick," I lie. I hate lying.
"Lorelai, take her home, put her to bed. I don't want her to get sick and have to miss school," Grandma orders.
Mom nods, getting up. She knew something was wrong. She knew we better leave before I did something stupid.
The daydreams are getting worse. Whenever I'm not around him, I'm thinking about him. Not in the sweet way, but in the 'I wanna get my hands on him' way. I really want to tell Mom. I even come close to blurting it out. But I don't. I can't.
It's only ten. Mom makes me go to bed. I either tell her what's up, or go to bed and be sick, as I told Grandma. I choose to be sick, because telling her would make her sick.
I unlock the window and pace around the room. 10:05, one hour and 55 minutes left. I grab a book and sit down to read. Its "The Fountainhead," the copy that Jess wrote in. I can't concentrate on the book or his notes. I imagine his strong hands writing the notes, which leads to his hands on me.
Frustrated, I fall onto my bed and try to sleep till he comes.
I run down the stairs, breathing hard. Kissing Jess always leaves me like that. Mom stares at me, wondering what I was doing.
"Running up and down stairs is very tiring," I answer, walking out to the car.
I want to tell Mom everything, mostly about Jess. I want to share it with her. I share everything with her. But no matter how much I want to talk to her about my current situation, I can't. She won't understand. She tries to be the 'cool mom,' but she won't be cool about this. Jess is everything she doesn't want for me, and in order for me to be able to see Jess, I can't tell Mom.
The car is quiet on the way over. Our usual banter is gone, there isn't even a fuss over ringing the doorbell. Mom just rings it. She can tell something is wrong. I can tell she's hurt that I won't share it with her. But knowing will hurt her more.
I plaster a smile on my face when Grandma answers the door. I don't want to be here. I'd rather be with Jess, but I can't skip Friday night dinner with out getting the third degree.
I greet Grandpa and we dive into a discussion about Hemingway before dinner. Mom's surprised because she remembers my dislike for the author. I've been reading him lately, for Jess. I think Mom's figured that out, after all, no one else would be able to influence my literary choice.
Dinner is ready and I can't wait to stuff my mouth and get out. This night can't be over soon enough. Mom, Grandma, and Grandpa, get into a debate about the running of the Inn. My mind wanders to the dark haired boy waiting for me back in Stars Hollow.
I can't wait to touch him. I begin to daydream about heated make out sessions between us. I can practically feel his hands running up my legs. I can feel his breath on my face as he whispers to me. I smile and lose myself in the feeling.
"RORY!" Mom shouts. She finally has my attention. My head snaps up to see what she wants. "What wrong, hun? You seem distracted."
I try to stop my face from turning red. I can't believe I was just thinking about that, sitting here with my grandparents at dinner. "Just thinking about school stuff."
Mom nods, not buying it, and goes back to discussing current events with her parents.
I try to pay attention, but I can't keep my mind focused. My thoughts still drift to Jess. I imagine running my hands along his chest and up his arms. I want to feel his mouth on mine. I lick my lips, trying to recreate the sensation of his tongue in my mouth. I close my eyes, trying to remember every detail about him, my body relaxes and I slouch down into my chair.
"RORY!" Grandma snaps at me.
"Yes?" I ask, smiling weakly.
"Are you sure you're okay?" she asks, concerned.
I don't want to worry her. But I don't think I can stay here another second without going crazy and moaning in my daydreams.
"Actually, I'm feeling a little sick," I lie. I hate lying.
"Lorelai, take her home, put her to bed. I don't want her to get sick and have to miss school," Grandma orders.
Mom nods, getting up. She knew something was wrong. She knew we better leave before I did something stupid.
The daydreams are getting worse. Whenever I'm not around him, I'm thinking about him. Not in the sweet way, but in the 'I wanna get my hands on him' way. I really want to tell Mom. I even come close to blurting it out. But I don't. I can't.
It's only ten. Mom makes me go to bed. I either tell her what's up, or go to bed and be sick, as I told Grandma. I choose to be sick, because telling her would make her sick.
I unlock the window and pace around the room. 10:05, one hour and 55 minutes left. I grab a book and sit down to read. Its "The Fountainhead," the copy that Jess wrote in. I can't concentrate on the book or his notes. I imagine his strong hands writing the notes, which leads to his hands on me.
Frustrated, I fall onto my bed and try to sleep till he comes.