Pros and Cons- Chapter 3


Rory shamefully avoided her mother's gaze. Mustering up enough courage, she looked up at her mom and came across her face, tears were streaming down her cheeks and the permanent smile on her face was gone, replaced with quivering lips. Rory contemplated of being alone. Rory really wanted to lock her self in a room, sit in the corner and bawl her eyes out till there were no more tears left. What she really needed was to have someone to be there for her: that someone being Lorelai.

"How?" Lorelai managed to ask. She sat down next to her daughter still bomb shelled about her daughter's revelation.

"Mom, I think you know how."

"You sure this is not some sad joke you are playing on me?"

"No. I'm so sorry mom."

Lorelai embraced Rory, as Rory clung to her for dear life.

"Rory, you have nothing to be sorry about. Why are you apologising to me?" Lorelai stroked Rory's hair as Rory sobbed onto her shoulder.

"Like mother, like daughter." Rory grimly replied.

"Do you want to keep the baby?" Lorelai asked, avoiding what Rory had said which was absolutely true.

"It wasn't planned but isn't unwanted."

Lorelai was tempted to ask whom the father was but kept her mouth shut. She could see that Rory was already petrified about telling her she was pregnant. Twenty questions weren't what Rory needed right now.

"Very nice answer cause if you said you wanted to abort shim then I would have rung your neck."

"Shim?"

"She or a he."

"Oh."

"Rory, I'm going to be there for you all the way. I don't want you to run away to some small town and get a job in an inn as a maid."

"I was considering that. Was very tempting."

Lorelai managed a smile.

"You wanna head in? It's getting pretty dark and it might be more comfy girl talking on the couch. I could order Chinese?"

"I just wanna stay outside for a few minutes."

"OK then. Meet you inside." Lorelai began to head inside.

"Oh and mom?" Lorelai stopped and turned to her Rory. "Chinese sound good, I'm pretty hungry."

Lorelai smiled. "Chinese coming right up!"

Rory heard the door shut and she buried her face into her hands.

*FLASH BACK*

"Don't you love Washington?" Paris was excited, which was pretty an all time first for her. "I can feel the politics. The air smells so different here then in Hartford."

"Maybe because George Bush is breathing the same air. Air needs to be first class for the most powerful man in the world you know." Rory stayed seated on the bench while Paris stood looking like some cavewomen who decided to come back to civilisation.

"Do I sense, unhappiness?" Paris now stood with her hands on her hips.

"Paris, I haven't had coffee in a few hours. I assure you after I have a few cups, I'll be just as enthusiastic as you are," Rory paused,"...talking about coffee, LOOK!"

Rory grabbed Paris' hand and dragged her to the set up café.

Rory and Paris were just finishing their coffee when a familiar voice made them turn around.

"Rory?"

"Tristan?" Rory asked squinting to see if it was really him. Tristan calling her Rory was pretty foreign to her

"Hey Paris" Tristan added, acknowledging her.

Paris scowled and walked away leaving Tristan slightly baffled. Rory just rolled her eyes. Typical of Paris.

"So what's up her ass?"

"I think she's still mad at you about the whole Romeo and Juliet thing."

"That was a really long time ago." Tristan smiled as he scratched the back of his messy blonde hair.

"Well you know Paris, unforgiving. Especially when her education is involved."

Rory looked up at Tristan, studying his features. He looked quite the same, the messy hair thing was still going on, and the strong jaw line, but there was this vibe about him that screamed out maturity. His eyes, although said otherwise, still the dazzling blue with the hint of kid. Rory continued to gawk at him with fascination

"Mary? I'm not that good looking." Tristan teased.

"Huh?" Rory snapped out of her staring. "Oh, forgot about that ego of yours." Rory inwardly beamed hearing that oh so annoying but also loved and missed nickname of hers.

"No. I think you are gorgeous, devastatingly handsome." Rory replied unable to hide a grin.

"Is my Mary not innocent anymore? Did she just flirt with me?"

"I don't know…maybe." Rory smiled. "Anyway, what are you doing here?"

"I'm here for the leadership program, conference, what ever you'd like to call it."

"You? A leader?" Rory couldn't help but laugh.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing. It's just that the Tristan I knew wasn't exactly leader material."

"And you are leader material?"

"Oh, Paris forced me into it. She wouldn't be elected if I didn't go for vice- president. I don't know if you know this but people don't exactly like her. She needed a nice person, quiet, dressed by blackbirds in the morning. In other words, me."

"Blackbirds?"

"Oh, don't worry about that."

'God, he has a such a nice smile' Rory thought to herself

"So what's been happening in Chilton?"

"Nothing special. Just the usual, assignments, tests, assignments and more tests."

"I wished I was there. Those things sound SO exciting!" Tristan replied cynically.

Rory chuckled "Out of curiosity, where is home exactly for you?"

"New York. A few months ago, my parents took me out of military school and I now live with my grandpa and attend an all-boys private school in famous New York".

"Come again, did you just say all-boys?"

"Sadly, yes."

"You poor thing, it must be hell for you. Not being able to stare at fine female specimens."

"I know, utter complete torture." Tristan emphasised by holding his hand to his chest.

"Well, it's been nice talking to you but I think I need to look for Paris, who knows what she will do. Scare a little 17 year old? That must be avoided at all costs."

Tristan chuckled. "Yeah, was nice talking to you. You want me to carry your bags?"

"Your offer is tempting but it's OK, I'll manage. See you around?"

"See you around"

"Bye." Rory smiled as she picked up her bag and headed into the big stone dormitory building.

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A/N: Please review; at least I'd know whether you are asleep or still awake. And by now you should have a really good idea of who the father is.