RORY

Rory wanted some fresh air. She had slept in her tiny bed with her tempestuous, long-limbed mother, and now she felt icky and strange. The heat had made her hair stick to her neck, and her skin to her pajamas and underwear. She should have taken a shower, but for now she wanted to see Connecticut in the early morning, when it was still dewy, and the air had a crispness to it that made breathing and especially thinking quite easy.

Rory opened the front door to the weight of her world: the stories on long sheets of old-school computer paper, wilted from the moistness of the first hours of day.

She swallowed and stood staring down at them contemplating what to do next. Inside she could hear Lorelai moving through the house…up the stairs…down the hallway…into her own room. She was going back to bed.

Rory checked to see that the door was still unlocked and closed it behind her. She sat down on the top step which was empty to get a full view of what was around her. The stacks were all different heights, she assumed grouped into the clusters Kirk had mentioned. Later she would go through them and figure everything out, and make lists.

Rory was starting to accept that nothing really made sense anymore. The idea that she was being watched had punched into her brain so many times that the little spot was sore and numb, and she couldn't feel anything anymore. She wondered if Mama Kim was right, and there was a God. Was she being punished?

Maybe she wasn't being punished. Maybe this was a sign. Her nose crinkled at the thought of signs telling her things. She wasn't like that. But maybe this was the point where she was supposed to change her mind about everything.

Rory had a diary. Everyday she tried to write in it. She wrote about everything really, and the book was fairly comprehensive in its version of her world, though she wasn't very truthful. How many times had she mentioned Jess? Not very many. And she knew that she would regret that later in life, not having any memories of him.

She lay down on the porch, which was damp, but soothingly cool. This was the time for her to examine her life recently and put everything together; to come out of denial and think rationally. As a stalling tactic, however, Rory began to think of all the similes that dealt with putting things together: puzzles, plugs…that was the extent of the list. Where are my poetic devices today? Rory thought pathetically.

Okay. This was it. She was going to sort this out.

Well, first of all, one day when she and Jess were together, she was going to be very upset that she didn't have a detailed record of the beginnings of the relationship, like with Dean. She wasn't allowed. Maybe she should have gotten a different diary to write down all her forbidden thoughts, but it was too late now. Wasn't it?

And really – when was that "one day" going to come? She was going to college next year, just about a year and a half. She began to rationalize that there was no point in Jess, no diversion. At the most she would sleep with him and get it over with and would be sad and then leave.

Rory added this to the list of thoughts she was not allowed to have.

Lorelai would be furious with her. She wouldn't be nice, and say, "Oh, but I understand you love him—"

She cringed.

Everyone would see that Rory wasn't perfect. That image was one that she had grown quickly tired of with age, but it was better than that of a foolish girl who was going to be Sandy in Grease and find the leather-jacket guy and perm her hair.

Jess understood her, didn't he? She felt very close to him somehow, like he was always there.

Rory put her hands on her stomach, then slid them under her hipbone, moving all around on the wood.

Jess was going to be there and know what she was thinking at all times. He was going to make things easy for her because he was just like her in a way – he knew what it was like. He trusted her, for some reason, and she wanted to take advantage of that. She wanted to tell him everything; for him to know everything; for him to take everything from her and have it as his own.

Thinking about all of it now was beginning to get easier moment by moment. Now it was starting to make sense; that she was being a normal person instead of a normal teenager. The weight of what she was telling herself was a bit overwhelming – like climbing a mountain and adjusting to the altitude. But when she reached the apex, what would that be? When? Where?

Rory changed positions by sitting up. She smiled feeling relieved that she didn't have to be in denial anymore. But all around her were things people – and who knew who they were – had written about her. Supposedly. She hadn't actually read anything yet, and she reminded herself that this was Kirk she was dealing with.

The first story she picked up was called "I Really Miss You". The summary:

"Trory song fic. Tristin is in North Carolina…but what will Rory do when he comes back?"

The first few paragraphs were the lyrics to a song. Rory laughed.

S Club 7 - I Really Miss You

I called you today just to hear you say you were not around

When the message was through, though I wanted to

I couldn't make a sound

I wanna tell you the thing I've seen

I wanna take you to where I've been

And I wish you were here with me

I really miss you Yes I do – yeah

I really miss you

Ohhhh yeah I do

She wasn't feeling very intimidated now. The entire stack of stories from which she'd picked up "I Really Miss You" were about Tristin. In fact almost all of the stories around her were about Tristin, or Trory, as they were more obsessively called.

Now she began to doubt the relevance of what Kirk had found. It had seemed like what he'd seen reflected her thoughts, but her thoughts weren't about Tristin DuGray. No…perusing the little booklets she saw that – apparently – all this time she'd been deeply in love with Tristin, but too scared to admit it:

Rory Gilmore knew in her heart that he was the one for her. When she looked into his crystal blue eyes, she saw a fire burning, a fire and passion that she too felt. She longed to touch him, to reach out to him, to ease his pain…not knowing a real family, bad break-ups, and the worst that Rory had rejected him over and over again.

My God, Rory thought. What she didn't want was to start doubting that whole thing with Tristin as well as the thing with Jess. She pictured Tristin's face in her head, looking all smug and GQ­-ish.

Nothin'.

She dropped the dissertation-length file back onto the porch and walked to the other side. There were pretty little piles arranged in pretty little arcs. Kirk was such a freak.

This is what Rory learned in a short period of time:

The Balcony Buddies were the people writing about her mom and dad; the balcony where they'd shared many "special moments".

Java Junkies: Her mother and Luke. That was cute. She would definitely read those.

Teacher's Pets: Her mother and Max. Lorelai had a lot of admirers, even people who were out of the picture.

Trories: Blech.

Narcoleptics: Her and Dean. A creative name, she thought.

Literati: Rory and Jess. She smiled and felt her stomach warm up, like it was smiling along with her.

She ran her finger along the places where she saw their names together. R/J.

Dippers: Paris and Jess? When was there a Paris and Jess?

That didn't matter. Rory was currently reading someone Greek, but could pause for one day. With only quick glances, she determined that the reading material before her wouldn't be up to par with anything besides a book with Fabio plastered on the cover, but that was just one of a few new mindsets that she would have to get used to.