Two months ago, this evening was unimaginable to Rory- her and Tristan double dating with Paris and Jamie.
"Zip me up," Paris demands. "Is that what you're wearing?"
"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"
"You can't wear jeans."
"Why not? We're just going to the union to play pool."
"Because I'm wearing a dress and I'm not wearing one alone."
"Fine, you put on jeans," Rory says, returning to her book.
"I can't. All my jeans are dirty."
"What activity are you partaking in that is getting your jeans dirty?"
"I can only wear my jeans for two days."
"Why?"
"Because otherwise they get those weird little pleat things behind my knees and around my zipper."
"You know that's very in style these days. Girls spend extra money to get their jeans whiskered like that."
"That's because they're stupid. Change your clothes."
"Wash your jeans."
"Rory."
"Fine, I'll change," she says, closing her book.
"But don't wear anything real cute. Wear that floral dress in there."
"My floral dress isn't cute?"
"It hangs on you funny."
"Thanks for the ego boost," Rory says. She stands in front of the closet, staring at her options while Paris brushes her hair furiously. "What about my green dress, can I wear that?"
"No, it makes your eyes look too pretty."
"What's the big deal with what I wear? I promise you that Jamie is not going to be looking at me."
"It's too risky, every guy I've ever liked has fallen for you."
"Like who?"
"Both Tristan and Jess."
"You can have Jess."
"That's what you said about Tristan and now look at you."
"For the love of god," Rory groans. She yanks a blue skirt and sleeveless white sweater from their hangers. "This is what I'm wearing and you will deal with it."
"That works."
"Happy to hear it."
"Are you very good at pool?" Paris asks.
"I've never played in my life."
"Okay good."
"Why, are you?"
"I played on a team in middle school."
"I'm not surprised," Rory says, rolling her eyes.
There's a knock at the door.
"He can't be here, I'm not ready!" Paris hisses.
"Calm down, I bet it's just Tristan." Rory opens the door and points. "See? Just Tristan."
"Thanks for the love," he says, hugging her. "You look great."
"Too bad, I'm changing," she says, waving the skirt and sweater in the air. "I'll be right back."
When she returns to the room, she is greeted by the sight of Tristan stretched across her bed and Paris frantically digging through the clump Rory's jewelry.
"Hey good lookin'," Tristan greets her.
"Where's your turquoise bracelet?" Paris demands.
"On my desk."
"That's what you're wearing?"
"I told you it was."
"Can't you wear a sweater or something over that? Something that hides your boobs."
"You have boobs too," Rory says, already digging for her white wrap around sweater.
"Yeah, well I don't want Jamie getting distracted by yours."
"I could cover them up with my hands," Tristan offers, winking at Rory. Her face burns.
"You're so helpful, Tristan," Paris snaps.
"Okay, can we switch the topic of conversation off my boobs please? Tristan, tie this for me."
"Yes ma'am," he says, sitting up and pulling the strings of her sweater into a bow.
"I'm going to brush my teeth," Paris announces, leaving the room.
"That's the third time in the last half hour," Rory says to Tristan, giggling as she flops down on the bed next to him.
"What? I didn't hear what you said because I was distracted by your boobs," Tristan says. Rory laughs and looks at her hands. "Ha ha, I can still make you blush."
"I'll start analyzing your body parts later and we'll see how much you like that," Rory threatens.
"Somehow I think I would be okay with it. So, Paris has really flipped for this Jamie guy, huh?"
"They're adorable together. He's crazy about her and vice versa."
"Is he cuter than me?"
"Is it possible?"
"Good girl."
"Okay, Jamie just called and he's down in the union," Paris announces as she enters the room. "How do I look?"
"Amazing," Rory says.
"Ditto," Tristan agrees.
Rory loves the game of pool immediately- the precision, the strategy, the lack of physical exertion. She's terrible at it, and even though Tristan is pretty good, Paris and Jamie have no problem clearing the table in a matter of minutes.
"I'm so sorry," Rory says to Tristan as he arranges the balls in the rack. Paris and Jamie are trading out pool cues, chalking up, talking strategy.
"For sucking?" Tristan asks. "I don't care."
"It's embarrassing."
"Believe it or not, I love you for more than your billiards abilities."
"It's a good thing."
"Yes it is. You just need someone to show you how to hold the cue."
"Will you show me?"
"Oh…I'm not really that good so I probably shouldn't be the one to teach you," Tristan says, sounding flustered.
"You're better than I am," Rory says. "Come on, please?"
Tristan looks at her. Rory wishes she could read his expression, but it's impossible, as if even Tristan doesn't know what he's thinking.
"Um, okay. Well, lets start with positioning your hands," he says. He props his cue against the table and stands behind Rory. She can feel his awkwardness as he takes on her point of view, leaning his body against hers, covering her arms with his. His breathing tickles her neck and she doesn't know what surprises her more, how nervous Tristan seems or how comfortable she feels with him against her.
"Curl your fingers like this around the cue," Tristan instructs, folding her hand around the tip of the cue like she's a manikin. Rory allows him to redirect her arms and fingers until he is satisfied that she is in a prime position.
"It's uncomfortable," Rory says, her knuckles cramping.
"You'll get used to it. Now don't think about hitting the ball hard, just focus on aiming. The strength will come with time. Hit the yellow ball into that corner pocket. Hit it right here," Tristan says, pulling his body off of hers to point at the spot of the ball that she should aim for.
Rory draws back her cue, aims, and the yellow ball slowly rolls into the pocket.
"I did it!" she cries. Tristan raises his hand to her in a hi-five, entwines their fingers when she touches her palm to his.
"Good job." She catches her breath as he pulls her toward him.
"Thanks," Rory says, excitement subdued by Tristan's eyes running up and down her face.
He's going to kiss me, she thinks, recognizing the look in his eyes.
The intense moment is broken when Tristan's pool cue falls from it's position against the pool table and lands with a loud thwack against the union floor.
"Geez," Tristan says, hand resting over his heart. Rory giggles, ignoring the disappointment that nags in her chest. Tristan glances at Rory and grins before calling over to Jamie and Paris: "Hey are we playing or what?"
Later that night in the dark of the dorm room, Paris says to Rory:
"You know you're in love with him, right?"
"I am not," Rory says, her protestations sounding weak even to her.
"And he's just as in love with you."
"He is not."
"Whatever you say, Rory."
"Goodnight, Paris."
"Goodnight."