LORELAI

Stories. There were no stories! Stories about what? Lorelai didn't know. Why? Because Rory didn't know. Why? Because she had gotten the information from Kirk. Kirk. Kirk. One more time: KIRK. Lorelai said his name over and over again, just to remind herself that anything that came out of his mouth came out of his mouth. So there.

She paced around her room, mad at nothing at all, but just mad in general. How dare Rory? How dare she?

But what had Rory done? a little voice inside Lorelai asked. She hated her inner voice, the one that always tried to overrule her pride and her brain and her mouth, which was most dominant.

There were no stories. And if there were stories, which there weren't, they certainly weren't about her and Luke. And if someone was going to write stories about her, why would they be about her and Luke? There was no her and Luke. Anyone could see that, she told herself every day.

That was the saddest part. Every day she went to Luke's, and every day he was there. Every day he wore a baseball cap. Every day he wore flannel. Every day he told her that coffee was bad. Every day they flirted.

A few times she had slipped up, and envisioned them together. She'd seen them kiss, hold hands, go to the monthly Stars Hollow festivals together. She'd written her own stories in her head, and those were more comfort than Larry, Curly, and Moe any day.

It wasn't what she wanted, though. She didn't want Luke. She wanted the person who was perfect for her, who would satisfy everything she'd ever fancied or had thought about. People looked at life as a puzzle, as cliché as Lorelai saw it. But there were pieces and people that fit together, like fingers, like knots, like those Russian dolls that Emily had a thousand of. Where was he? Lorelai wondered. And why couldn't Luke be him?

Lorelai knocked on Rory's door.

"What?" Rory mumbled from inside.

"Can I come in?"

"Sure."

Lorelai opened the door to see Rory lying on her bed with her head on her arms.

"Rory, hon, what's going on here?"

Rory sighed. "I don't know," she whispered, looking scared. Her eyes opened wide, and Lorelai thought she looked like a Bambi-type person.

Lorelai sat down on the bed to be close to Rory. "I really don't think that someone is reading our minds and writing about what they know."

"But Kirk… the things he said… it was so strange. I know he's Kirk, but still… it was so strange," she repeated.

"What exactly did he say?"

Rory shrugged. "Just about how he knew what I was up to because of what he'd read."

"What were you up to?"

"I don't know, but it sounded very Heidi Fleiss-y."

"That's intense," Lorelai commented, raising her eyebrows. "I'm impressed."

"Yeah, well."

"Hey look –  why don't we go talk to him? Find out what's going on, even if it's all in his head," Lorelai offered comfortingly.

"I don't think he's going to be very forthcoming."

"Well, we'll take him to Luke's, buy him some pie and a big mug of root beer, which he will think will make him drunk, and then he will be very forthcoming."

Rory sighed. "I feel horrible."

"Yeah, I can tell."

"I just feel so bad. I don't think I've ever felt this bad. And for no distinct reason."

Lorelai rubbed Rory's back, and lay down beside her.

"No," Rory said sitting up. "Let's go now. I want to settle this. I don't even believe it, but I want to get this over with so I can sleep tonight. I don't want anyone spying on me."

Lorelai sat up and followed her daughter out of the room. "I'll go change. It'll just take a sec." Lorelai ran up the stairs and into her room.

It had become routine for Lorelai to change her appearance somehow before she and Rory went to Luke's; sometimes clothes, sometimes curling or straightening her hair. So far Lorelai hadn't come up with any decent excuses as to why she always did this, so she ignored Rory's teasing looks; Rory's perturbed looks; Rory's pitying looks.

Lorelai began to toy with the thought of someone knowing her feelings as she began to toy with her hair. If there could be someone out there who could say to Luke what she couldn't… that would be the answer to the request she'd subconsciously shot out to the universe. There was this recurring dream she kept having that always kept her awake and wishing for snow after each time… maybe now it would end.

Why was she so lonely today?

 Rory was waiting by the door when Lorelai appeared downstairs. Rory gave her mother a long, serious look which Lorelai didn't see very often. The bad feeling which Rory had expressed earlier now penetrated Lorelai's condition. She too did not know why she suddenly felt so bad.

"Was it about Jess?" Lorelai said as they drove to Kirk's house.

"What?" Rory murmured with a desperate tone in her voice.

"Did Kirk tell you something you were thinking about Jess?"

"Yes," Rory admitted quietly.

Lorelai nodded, and then sighed.

Outside of Kirk's house there was a giant plastic Santa twice the size of Lorelai.

"I'm not even going to comment on that one," Lorelai said as she walked towards the door. She rang the doorbell. "Okay, I am. First of all, it's not Christmas. Second of all: it's wearing glasses. And not just glasses, but those kind that Elton John used to wear that I think legally only Elton John can wear."

"Mom, watch what you say."

"Oh, that's right – we're being spied on," she shouted angrily. "Boy, does my life suck." No one came to the door, so she furiously began to ring the doorbell. "I hate it when people leave their Christmas decorations up all year. I hate it! And I hate it when the trash guy comes late, and when at restaurants, the rolls are cold, and when someone always chooses to play every Boyz II Men song in the jukebox at Pizza Hut – in a row. Why do people do that? Why?" She was still ringing the doorbell.

Finally Kirk opened the door slightly and peered through the crack.

"I heard the bell the first time," he said, glaring.

"Really? 'Cause I don't think you did, hon. We've been standing out here for hours, and you've been in there doing God knows what while we just stood out here waiting."

"I've been unlatching the latches," Kirk explained, looking smug and hurt all at the same time.

"What?"

"There are twenty-seven."

"Twenty-seven what?"

"Twenty-seven locks on the door."

"Why?" Rory and Lorelai asked in unison.

"Well, there were only twenty-four before, but I found a lottery ticket the other day, a winner, so I decided to buy something for the house. I bought these locks."

Lorelai turned to Rory and gave her that look that signified everything about life she couldn't explain in words.

"Well, Kirk, that's a good investment," Lorelai remarked. "Look," she continued. "Rory told me that you told her about some crazy thing about… I don't know…" She looked to Rory with an embellished look of confusion on her face. "Stories? I don't know."

"Yes, I've almost read all of them now. I printed them out from the library."

"Printed what?"

"The stories," Kirk said, as if that were enough explanation.

"What stories?" Lorelai and Rory eagerly asked.

"The ones about you."

"Okay, Kirk, we really need to talk about this. Can we come inside?"

"Mother's resting now."

"Okay, good. Then let's go to Luke's, huh?"

"I'm not very hungry," Kirk said meekly.

"You don't have to eat," Lorelai promised. "We'll just talk a bit."

"Talk about what?"

"The stories."

"They're not very good."

"My expectations are low, don't worry."

"Do you want to take one home?" Kirk asked. He opened the door completely to reveal the walls of his home completely covered in computer paper taped to the walls.

"That's them?" Lorelai asked, breathless.

"Just about 700. I stapled them together, and grouped them by section: Trories, Literatis, Java Junkies. That's you, by the way."

"What?" Lorelai's heart began to speed up.

"The people who write Java Junkie stories are the ones who 'ship you and Luke. I studied up. We all think he's your soul mate, just like Jess is for Rory."

"Oh, my God," Lorelai said. She put her hand on her forehead, and then covered her eyes. "Oh, my God. I don't know what's going on but I have to get out of here." She felt her eyes begin to tear up, and she stumbled to their car. She didn't check to see if Rory was behind her; she felt for the handle of the Jeep and got in. She enveloped her face into the steering wheel and started to sob. They sat in Kirk's driveway a very long while, and he didn't bother them.  Her only comfort for the rest of the night was Rory's hand smoothing her freshly curled hair.