Connecticut Writers
Chapter 5 – This can't really be edited
Disclaimer: I'm sure you all know I own basically nothing. You're right; I don't. lol.
A/N: Here's the next chapter! Hope you like it. Thanks for all the great reviews! I just realized that ff.n hasn't been updating my review page for almost a week, but I just went on my email and read them all! Thank you!! I finally have more time to write…but it's sad, all my friends at school are going to different highschools…I don't want to leave. This is the first time I've gone to a new school in six years. Graduation was great, though. (It's middle school graduation, not high school!) Okay, on with the chapter, and sorry it's taken so long—enjoy! More of all my fics should be up soon! ~Arianna
I smiled at Jess and left, walking home slowly. I felt much better. I still didn't know what had happened. But I knew he had missed me. He was glad I was here; he was going to call me. And that was worth all of it. I needed my best friend.
I went home, worked hard, and got an excellent grade on my paper.
Jess called a few days later. I answered the phone too tired to wonder who it was. I stopped being tired when I heard his voice.
"Hey."
"You called!" I said.
I knew he was grinning. "I called."
"I'm glad."
"Me too," he replied, quietly. After a while, he said, "Rory?"
"Yeah?"
"Are you still writing?"
"Sometimes. I'm not doing another book now or anything…just got back an A+ paper though."
"That's the Rory I remember." Hearing that was half nice, half painful. Jess realized, probably from my silence, that he'd hurt me. "Rory, I'm sorry."
"No, it's okay," I said quickly.
"Look…could you come over? You don't have to, I just—"
"Of course I will." I paused. "Thanks."
"Don't worry, I have coffee."
"I'd come anyway." I smiled. "Be right there."
"Sure." I heard a click as Jess hung up. I grabbed my jacket and mostly empty backpack, and shut the door behind me, wondering what Jess wanted.
I got there soon; didn't have to knock before Jess was at the door.
"Hey, Jess."
"Hey, Rory." I followed him inside.
"What's up?" I asked.
"Well…"
"Jess?"
"I asked you if you were writing."
"You did," I stated.
"Rory…" He put his hands in his pockets, then reached over to his desk, drew his hand back.
"Are you okay?"
"Oh, yeah." This was weird, for Jess. Sure, he was never the most talkative person—my mom took that place by a long shot. But if he wanted to say something, especially to me, he almost always knew how to say it. "Remember when we used to edit each other's essays?"
"Of course." Now I was really curious. I knew there was something he wanted to tell me—or, more likely, something he wanted to ask me. He was obviously nervous—which wasn't like the Jess I knew.
"I'm working on something else," he said finally, "and I want you toe read it, edit it…you know."
I was so glad he had asked me. I couldn't wait. "Sure!" I answered immediately. "Of course; I'd love to." I grinned.
Jess grinned back. "That's great."
We smiled at each other for a second.
"So…can I see it?" I asked.
"Oh right. Here." Jess went over to a shelf and got a blue notebook; handed it to me. "It's…I can't explain."
"I'll see." I was quiet for a minute. "Jess?"
"Yeah?"
"Before I go home, and read this…do you want to…get something to eat, or something?" I looked up at him. "We won't talk about it. I promise."
"Okay," he replied, knowing what I meant. "Where do you want to go?"
"I don't know…we could just walk around; see if we find anything."
"Okay." Jess glanced at me. "You can come back for your stuff."
"Sounds good." We left Jess' apartment. Left together, for the first time in years. I guess I hadn't realized, through the years at college, that I'd really been missing something. I mean, when he didn't write back, I was upset. I missed him a lot. But as it went on, I didn't know that…I needed to talk to him, in a way.
We walked in silence for a while. Then I said, "So…can you tell me what it's about?"
Jess knew what I meant. "I can try." He hesitated. "I…it's about a guy. And a girl. And…"
"Jess?"
"Can't you just read it?!"
"I'm sorry," I said softly, hurt.
"Listen, I didn't mean it that way."
"So how did you mean it?" I asked.
"I don't want—it's hard to talk about. I just started writing; I don't even know what's gonna happen." He waited. "I didn't mean to yell at you."
"It's okay."
"I'm sorry."
"Jess?" I said.
"Yeah?"
"Thanks for calling."
"I know…this probably doesn't mean much now," he replied, "but I did say I would."
I met his eyes and smiled. "Yeah, you did."
He glanced down, unsure of what to say. I didn't mind. This was the Jess I remembered. Then I saw something.
"Jess, look!" It was a small brick building on a street corner; old blue letters above the door said: The Readers' Café. "We have to go in."
"Fine with me." Jess followed me across the street and into the café.
"Wow," I whispered. The walls were covered with bookshelves, stacks of novels in the corners. The only place not full of books was the counter. There was a glass case with cookies and donuts. Pitchers and mugs were stacked behind the register. "I wonder what kind of coffee they have," I said.
Jess started laughing. I turned to him. "What?"
"Nothing," he replied. "It's just…you walk into your perfect restaurant…and that's the first thing you say."
"It was the second thing I said!" I protested.
"I know you're Rory."
"I'll take that as a compliment." It happened so fast. This was actually a typical conversation, for us. I was glad. Really glad.
We went up to the counter together.
"I'll have a large coffee," I said. "And a chocolate donut."
"I'll have the same…small coffee," Jess added.
"Is this together?" the guy at the counter asked.
"Yes," Jess and I said at the same time.
"No way, Rory."
"You paid last time!"
"Look, you know I owe you."
"Not like this!"
"Ror…let's not have this argument here."
"I take it you're not giving up," I said shrewdly.
"Not at all. See, I'll pay—" he did—"and we can argue about you repaying me, back at the table." I couldn't help grinning. The cashier laughed at us too—a friendly laugh, not a mean one.
We each took our food and found a table near several shelves of books, which seemed to be arranged alphabetically down the shelves.
"Let me pay you back," I insisted.
"No."
"Please."
"No."
"Jess!"
"Still stubborn, huh?"
"And proud of it," I answered. "At least let me pay my half! Come on—"
"Consider it a present," he suggested.
"I can't!"
"Compromise?" Jess relented.
"Depends."
"You pay half of yours, okay? And stop arguing." He grinned. "I wanna talk about books instead."
I sighed. Jess knew perfectly well that I hated giving in. Especially to him, because he knew that he could always make me agree to something. At least, it used to be that way. "Deal. Thanks, Jess."
"You're welcome."
I took a drink of my coffee, thinking about Luke's again. I didn't say anything, because I wanted to be comfortable with Jess for a while. It was nice. I'd missed it. And I knew he didn't wanna talk about that.
"Tell me about your book," he said.
"You've read it," I pointed out.
"How long did it take?" he asked.
I shrugged, mentally calculating it. "About a year," I replied. "What about yours?"
I saw him hesitate; saw him almost turn away and almost change the subject, though I didn't mention it. He knew I'd noticed. But instead he said, "Same. Around a year."
I changed the subject for him, hoping he knew it was on purpose. I guessed he did. "Please tell me you've at least tried The Fountainhead again."
"Actually, I sort of did…" We launched into a discussion—closer to a debate—about Ayn Rand.
It was one of the best afternoons I'd had in a long time. We left the café about forty-five minutes later. Despite my—disagreement—with Jess, I was smiling, and I knew he almost was.
I walked back to his apartment with him to get my stuff. When we got there, I hung around, reluctant to leave.
"Rory? You wanna come in?"
Relieved, I said, "Sure."
We sat down opposite each other in what you might have called the living room.
"So you don't have a boyfriend," Jess said suddenly.
I looked up, surprised. "Way to be random."
"Sorry. I just…wondered. I mean—can I…"
"You can talk about Dean. Really, I wasn't that upset. No matter how much I cried." Jess gave me a small smile. He'd held me through my whole time getting over that.
"Okay. I mean…you broke up with him about seven years ago now. And you're…I know guys would…want you to like them." He glanced at me. "You look great."
Embarrassed, but amused by his way of putting it, I answered, "I…don't really know. I guess I didn't meet anybody I honestly liked. And I don't want that just for fun, that's all."
"I know."
"What about you?" I asked Jess. "It's been even longer since you were serious about anyone. As far as I know."
"There isn't any more than I've told you."
"And…what you said before? I could say the same about you."
"Rory…It's pretty much the same. Didn't want it, didn't consider it a game or anything."
"I recognize that line," I said.
"What?"
"It's from your book."
"Oh, yeah, you're right. It's true though." He looked slightly surprised that I'd remembered. But not too much—he did know me, after all.
"I know." I paused. "So…I better get back."
"Glad you came," he said honestly.
"Me too," I replied, equally sincere. I held up Jess' notebook. "I'll read this, I'll make comments, I'll tell you what I think."
"Great. Thanks."
"I know it'll be great," I told him.
"You know, you could be wrong for once."
"Not likely." I grinned. "Get used to it."
"I think I already am."
I smiled, wistfully, remembering. "I'll call you when I'm done."
"Do that." He stopped, then said, "Hey, you should write more."
"Maybe." I got up. "Bye, Jess."
"See ya, Rory."
I knew I would never forget that. It took everything I had not to open the notebook as I was walking home. I couldn't wait. And I could finally, truthfully, say I was happy. I'd never say that ignorance is bliss…it's almost the opposite of what I think. But still. What I wanted to know right then, I did know—Jess still cared about me. We were…I guess we were still friends.
