"Rory, who --" Lorelai stopped at the first porch step. "Tristan."

"Hello, ma'am," Tristan said. It couldn't hurt to suck up to Rory's mom.

"Why are you here?" Lorelai asked.

"I graduated," he said. "I came back to Connecticut because I'm going to

Yale in the fall."

"Yale," Lorelai said, her eyes narrowing. "That's where Rory's going."

"What?" he asked, confused. "What happened to Harvard?"

"I got in," Rory told him. "But I decided to go to Yale. It's a family school,

plus it's closer to Mom."

"Imagine that," Tristan said.

Oh, yes, imagine that! Rory would be at school with him in the fall. This was

better than he had hoped for.

"What are you doing here in Stars Hollow?" Lorelai inquired.

"I came to see Rory," he told her simply. "I graduated and realized I wanted to

see an old friend."

"Oh," Lorelai said. "All right. I'm going inside now."

After Lorelai left, Tristan and Rory were silent. Then Tristan asked, "You wanna

go to a bookstore or something?"

Rory's eyes lit up. "That'd be great. Let me tell my mom and get my shoes."

Tristan sat on the porch and waited for her. A bookstore. He knew she loved reading, and how better to get reacquainted with her than to take her to a reader's

paradise? He knew this great bookstore in Hartford -- he was certain Rory would love it.

Rory loved the bookstore Tristan had taken her to. It had a lot of rare books, as well as the more famous classics. She stopped at a section entitled "The Beat Generation."

"Tristan, this is great!" she exclaimed. "Look -- two whole shelves of Kerouac!" Rory picked up On the Road.

"That's a great book," Tristan remarked.

"You've read it?" Rory asked, surprised.

He grinned sheepishly. "I read it so I could say I've read Kerouac."

Rory laughed. "And what did you think of it?"

"I just said it was good."

"More than that," Rory urged. "What were you thinking when you read it?"

"I guess I though it was cool, how these people could just roam around with no

direction, a rootless existence. No one telling them what to do, just following their instincts and their hearts."

Rory smiled. "Yeah." She set the book down. "It's too bad people can't really do that."

Tristan asked, "Why not? 'On the Road' was autobiographical, was it not?"

"Well, yes," she admitted. "But those people were different. They had no dreams, no ambitions."

"They wanted to see the world."

"But there was no structure to it," Rory argued.

"You can't structure or plan your hopes, Rory," Tristan pointed out. "They just

. . . happen. You can't make a list."

Rory thought for a moment. "I guess you're right."

"I know I am," Tristan teased her.

"Still self-absorbed and conceited," Rory said. Truth be told, she found it comforting.

"It hasn't been that long, Mary. A year and a half."

Rory looked at him. "Huh. Mary." Something else oddly comforting and familiar.

Tristan realized something. "I mean, uh -- you're still Mary, right?" He hoped to the heavens that he didn't offend or upset her.

Rory's eyes widened. Then she relaxed. "Yeah. I'm still Mary."

Tristan exhaled, not even knowing he was holding his breath. "Good."

Rory smiled slightly. "Does it really mean that much to you?"

Now it was his turn to look shocked. "No -- I mean, I was just --" He stopped. He noticed Rory looking very upset, staring at a small book. "What is it?"

"'Howl'," she said.

Tristan looked around. "Uh, Rory, I don't think this is the place --"

"Not the dog noise," she interrupted. "The poem."

"What about it?"

"It just . . . has some special memories attached to it, that's all," Rory muttered.

Tristan got the distinct message that the "memories" had something to do with her ex-boyfriend, Jess.

Rory snapped out of her reverie. "Sorry," she apologized. Then she started walking in the other direction. "Let's check out the Russian literature section."

Tristan stared after her for a moment. He had an epiphany. He couldn't make a move on her -- not while she was so vulnerable and freshly broken-up. He would just risk upsetting her greatly and ruining what was emerging, in just a few hours, as a friendship with potential.

For now, he would have to be her friend. A confidant. If it meant he would be able to be in contact with Rory, Tristan would take what he could get.

He went over to Russian literature and joined her.