How Do I Make You Understand?
'Where is he? He's not usually this late. He said he wanted to go over some English notes before the test. Ugh…he can be so irresponsible sometimes. Oh well, he probably just got caught up with some new girl.' Rory flinched at the thought. 'Cool it, Gilmore. It's only Tristan. Your best friend, remember? Your friend, that's all… You have no reason to be jealous…Now CONCENTRATE!!!'
"Hey Gilmore" Paris sauntered up to Rory's desk, an amused scowl on her face.
"What could you possibly want no, Paris?" Rory sighed.
"So Tristan finally got sick of your crap, huh? I knew he'd come around eventually."
"I have no idea where Tristan is. Unlike you, some of us have lives of our own. Therefore we don't have to spend all of our time stalking somebody else."
"Funny girl. However, you might want to remember your place here before you say something like that again. Unlike you, some of us can actually pay for this ourselves…we don't have to go and beg our grandparents for tuition money. You're worthless, Gilmore. It'd pay to remember that." Paris smirked.
Rory just sighed as Paris went to sit down. 'Oh, Tristan…where are you?'
*The DuGrey Mansion:
"Father, why am I here? We both know that neither of us actually enjoy talking to each other, and I do believe that I am missing school right now. You remember school, right? That fine institute where we go to learn…Personally, I think of it as more of Hell representative myself, but you on the other hand – "
"Tristan, I don't have time for your silly sayings. I have called you here because I think it is time some sort of action be taken."
"What are you talking about? Action for what?"
"Your behavior is completely unacceptable, Tristan. You bring home a different girl every day, each one more vulgar than the next. The only decent girl out of the whole lot is that Gilmore girl, and even she is-"
"She is perfect, Father. And Rory is not the same as the others. She is my friend, nothing else."
"Yes, well Rory is not the reason you are here. Back to the subject at hand. You bring home a different girl every night, you go gallivanting around town at all hours, and you have no respect for anyone. You are a disgrace to the family name; and frankly, I don't know how to deal with it anymore."
"I am not 'gallivanting'! Half of that time I'm with Rory! Rory's perfectly acceptable; you've met her grandparents…-"
"What are you doing the other half of that time, Tristan?"
Tristan hung his head. "What are you proposing, Father?"
"Boarding school."
"Boarding school?!? But-"
"In Paris."
"Paris?!?"
"Yes."
"So, that's it?!? You're just going to take me away from everything?!? My life, my friends?!? I've been doing better!! My grades have been almost perfect, I haven't gotten in actual trouble in months-"
"It's too late, Tristan. I've made the arrangements. You leave tomorrow."
"So this is it. You've decided that since you can't deal with me, you'll just send me to another country. Is that supposed to make it all better? What are you going to tell your fellow socialites? That I'm there on a culturally enlightening experience?!? This is a bunch of BS Father, and you know it."
"Accept it, Tristan. Pack your bags and say goodbye to your friends."
"When am I coming back? One year, two years, never?"
"When I feel you are ready to be presented to the public again. As of right now, I don't see that happening anytime in the near future. Get over it." And with that, Janlen DuGrey walked out of the room, and out of his son's life.
Tristan stared at the picture of his so-called 'family' over the mantelpiece. And with a burst of fury at his father, he took it off the wall, and threw it into the fire, watching it turn into ashes…'I wish that was you, Father…I wish that was you…'
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As Rory walked home from the bus after school that day, she tried to decide where Tristan could have been. He hadn't shown up in school all day. He always told her when he was going to be gone; even when he was sick he called her on her cell phone during lunch. But no matter how many times she checked her voice mail, it was to no avail. 'Tristan…where could you be?' And with that thought she lifted her head only to find Tristan sitting on her front porch.
"Tristan Janlen DuGrey!!! Where have you been? I was worried sick!!!-"
"Rory-" Tristan tried to cut in.
"And of course without you there, Paris took the opportunity to jump all over me. Thanks a lot-"
"Rory-" Tristan tried again, to no avail.
"You better have one hell of an excuse or bribe or something after making me put up with Paris like that-"
"RORY!!!!!!!!!!!"
This time, he got her attention.
"What?" she asked, her eyes a mixture of anger and worry.
"I'm leaving…"