Disclaimer: My life is already utterly miserable without "Gilmore Girls" on the air down here, and with the fact that I'm in love with a guy (Jess) who doesn't exist and whose heart belongs to someone else, and you STILL want to taunt me with the fact that I own nothing??? *sob*
Author's note: Sorry, but I won't have the chance to update all that often. It might really be a long while before I put up another chapter. In the meantime, do send in your reviews!! They are much appreciated…
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Meg shut the door behind the last customer, locking it. Jess had disappeared into the aisles after she'd ended their conversation, and she now found him in the corner, reading Dickens yet again. She leaned against the shelf, waiting for him to look up again.
"You know, you've read that copy of 'Oliver Twist' so many times that I can't get anyone to buy it anymore," she said, indicating the tattered and torn novel he held.
"Sorry," Jess said distractedly, his eyes finally leaving the book without having really read it.
Meg stepped closer to him, sitting down beside him and resting her hand upon his knee, before he finally asked, "Earlier, you said no one in the city cares for me—"
"You know I care for you, Jess," she assured him. "And your mother does too—" Jess looked at her incredulously. "—In her own way, she does, Jess Mariano." She sighed softly, then continued. "But in this city, you can be hurt so easily, much more easily than you'd care to admit. Now, I can't always protect you here, you know that. But in that town—"
"I'll be the one people need protection from," Jess finished, laughing ruefully.
"No, honey, you know that's not true."
"Isn't it?" he exclaimed. "You know, Rory's mother was right at least. I care for her, but whatever I do just seems to hurt her. And now I have hurt her."
"Don't be silly, my boy," Meg reassured. "I've known you since you were this high,—" She indicated a level just above her head (they were, after all, sitting) "—and I know you wouldn't intentionally hurt a fly." She watched Jess as he took that in, then continued. "In that town, you've got people who care for you. Rory won't hate you even after this, and your uncle Luke certainly wouldn't either. He didn't make you come back here, did he?"
Stuck, Jess reluctantly replied, "No."
"Tell me, Jess, honestly. What have you got back here in New York to come back to?"
Jess had nothing to reply to that, only sitting in silence as Meg patted him on the knee again and slowly stood, walking back to the counter to tally up the day's sales.
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Jess Mariano could not sleep that night. A sliver of moonlight found its way down to his room, and the light it cast was grey, murky. He heard Liz stumbling around in the dark outside. She had barely acknowledged him when he first returned. His stomach growled; he hadn't bought that pizza after all.
He turned over, hoping to feel more comfortable, but the old mattress scratched him as he did so. The thin cotton sheet he'd laid out was not of much help. He heard the sound of a cat screeching as a garbage can toppled over; the noise did not end there as a dog started barking incessantly. Agitated, he got up, slamming the window shut, and almost regretted it instantaneously. Now, with the air flow gone, his room was warm and stuffy.
He tried to ignore the humidity as he went back to bed. It got to him within minutes, as he peeled off his already-sweat-drenched shirt. It only made things worse, as now he could feel the scratchy, rough material of the mattress more acutely through his back. He got up again, pulling open the window once more and yanking down the shade, hoping it could at least help to filter out the noise. It barely worked.
He groaned in frustration, before turning and leaving his room, headed for the kitchen. He spotted Liz on the couch again, passed out, an empty bottle in one hand and the burning butt of a cigarette in the other. Annoyed, he took the smouldering butt from her fingers and ground it out on the ashtray. "You're gonna burn the building down one day, Lizzy," he muttered angrily under his breath, before returning to the kitchen.
He pulled open the refrigerator door, examining its meagre contents. A mouldy sandwich, a slice of pizza, and an empty can of beer was all that remained. He sighed, leaning his head against the arm that propped open the door for a moment, letting the cold air rush over him, cooling him down, before swinging the door shut again. He grabbed a relatively clean glass from the countertop, then filled it with water, before taking it with him as he returned to his room.
He pulled the shade up, defeated in his attempts to sleep, and climbed out the window onto the fire escape. He sat down, leaning against the rough brick wall, looking up at the half-moon as he took a sip of water. It's Thursday night… What would she be doing now?
Then, he remembered. Movie night… Right. Wonder if she's enjoying it. Then he reminded himself that this was, after all, Rory Gilmore. The girl even enjoyed doing homework. He smiled at the memory of her face, the soft, delicate features, the bright blue eyes, full of wonder and enthusiasm, the sofy, silky brown hair that perfectly framed her face…
That look of amazement and surprise when he had returned her the first book he had "borrowed"…
The annoyance yet urge to laugh when she discovered who had drawn the chalk outline that so infuriated Taylor…
The hunger and enthusiasm as they'd discussed all things literary on that day on the bridge, and after…
The lost, pleading face as she searched for her bracelet—
And who could forget the crumpled look on her face when she realised how badly wrecked her car was.
Forget her, Mariano, he told himself. It's all better this way.
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A/N: Once again, sorry, but the next chapter will take some time to come, real busy with all things to do with real life. But hey, see that little scroll button down there? Go, click on it and submit a review! It would be greatly appreciated, and might tempt me back sooner! :0)