Everything's Not Lost
- Guinevere -
A/N: Will ya'll let me know if they seem out of character? This is really fun, 'cause my characters can just ramble and it actually makes for a pretty good story. I promise things will pick up in the next few chapters. As always, please review to let me know what you like, what you don't and what you want to see/hear. Also, who do you think the mystery roommate is? : )
Disclaimer: I own everything except what I don't own, and if you're reading this, I hope you know which is which.
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Ch Two: Moving Cities
"For some reason, I always thought that my apartment was unique, probably because my realtor convinced me of that, but now I see that every one is exactly the same," Tristan mentioned upon entering Rory's apartment. He had gone back inside his and changed into a pair of loose jeans and a grey Cheshire Academy t-shirt.
Rory was standing over the stove in the kitchen, trying to figure out how to turn it on. "Uh, Tristan, do you know how to operate this thing?" she asked. Totally digital appliances were not the greatest invention, she decided.
Tristan came up be hind her, reached over her shoulder and explained, "Push 'power', then 'front right', then 'medium-to-high', and 'boil'. It took me two months to learn that."
"Well, you know, Chilton taught us Shakespeare and Rousseau, but they must have figured none of us would ever have to operate our own kitchen appliances." Rory turned now and took in the sight before her. The 'Cheshire' caught her eye. "Did you go there after military school?"
"Well, that's a long story if I ever had a long story to tell. But I'll give you the condensed version. Basically I was locked up in the Carolinas for a year and a half, but after I graduate from there, pretty much no colleges wanted me, so I took a post-grad year at Cheshire. My father would have rather I gone straight to Kalamazoo College - seriously - but I wanted something a little better for myself. After Cheshire I got into Columbia and moved here. Cheshire was definitely the best year of my life, by far. Wow, did that just seem like a satisfied customer testimonial or what?"
"A little bit. Was it really that much different from Chilton?" Rory motioned for them to move to the couch while the water boiled.
"Oh yeah, so much different. No uniforms, although we had to dress up. No cell phones, no internet access after nine, great teachers, and it was a boarding school. Where I was a post-grad, they had decided before I even arrived that I had messed up in high school, so they knew what to do. Strict but not too strict. Cheshire was a healthy medium between Chilton and military school and that's what I needed."
"It sounds great. I have to agree, the only thing restricting about Chilton was those awful uniforms. But thanks to nostalgia, I've still got it, in one of these boxes somewhere," Rory motioned around the room that was filled with box after box labeled 'kitchen' and 'Rory's room'.
"Is this all your stuff? No, wait, you said you had a roommate."
"Yeah, but he's in the Philippines doing something or other. He's a photojournalist for National Geographic exclusively, but he also works on the side for Gamma who sell him to Newsweek and Time."
"Pretty cool. I may have read something by him; what's his name?"
"He's big on secret identities, Steppenwolf and all that about one person being a bunch of people being one person. Saying that, I've decided that he really does like to talk in circles. But anyway, he uses a different penname every time and I couldn't even begin to remember them all. He did, though, write the cover story last month on Geographic about upper-class society as a down-trodden minority in Bolivia."
"I think I saw that, really good stuff. Anyway Rory, I think the water is boiling."
Rory jumped from her seat, "I totally forgot. I'll be right back." She made her way through the maze of boxes to the kitchen and poured two boxes of macaroni into the overly-rapid boiling water. She couldn't believe how surreal this was: Tristan DuGrey, sitting in her living room, about to eat macaroni and cheese. When had she seen him last? Ten years ago, Junior year when he ran out on their Romeo and Juliet skit. And they hadn't even been friends, but now they were behaving as such. Emotions were running through her head so fast she couldn't identify them. Better to let things go as they may, she decided.
"Hey Rory, I don't mean to be rude," Tristan interrupted her thoughts as he joined her again in the kitchen, "But, I mean, why did you move into this building?"
"It's so hard to find an empty apartment, I took the first one available. My roommate and I were looking to get out of Greenwich Village, so this was the most logical step. I mean, a couple of twenty-seven year old successful reporters living down there? It may be logical, yes, but when your boss wants to come to dinner, he may not be too thrilled by the transvestite down the hall or the two dads upstairs, you know what I mean?"
"Oh yeah, I lived in SoHo until five minutes after my Dad's car pulled up outside. I love it down there, but it's not exactly acceptable of one the Hartford DuGrey's."
"Exactly. And, of course, it helps that my grandmother just happened to be an old college friend of Mrs. Gramaric, your old neighbor. The minute she mentioned moving to the country, my grandmother set up the three-way calling and we were as good as sold."
"My Dad arranged everything for my apartment, all I had to do was sign on the dotted line. I know, that makes me sound rich and arrogant, but I truly would have never moved uptown, though I'm now glad I did. Hey, those look done," he motioned toward the pot on the stove, then moved to drain it in the sink. He put in the ingredients and mixed them while Rory found two bowls, two spoons and two glasses and cleared a place at the table.
"The dinner of champions is served," Tristan exclaimed as he set the bowls down.
"You know, it may look unhealthy, and even a little disgusting, but this stuff is truly fabulous," Rory mumbled between bites.
"I'll second that," Tristan agreed. "You know, Rory, this is the most bizarre night I've experienced in quite a while. I mean, I'm sitting here eating prepackaged crap with a girl who truly hated me ten years ago, and we only just met again."
"I never 'truly' hated you. You just really got on my nerves, and you were a bit of an arrogant prick most of the time."
"Well that's to be expected of a guy with a life like mine. But that's no excuse. I was just a horny teenager looking for the next best thing and every time I turned around, there it was challenging me to a duel. I'd like to think I've changed."
"You really have, or you so would have been gone an hour ago." With that, they sat in a comfortable silence as they finished. Just as they moved to put their dishes in the sink, the phone rang. "Give me a minute, will you," Rory said as she headed down the hall to her bedroom, the only place she had installed a phone in so far. "Hello?" she answered as she flung herself across her bed.
"Hey Ror, what's up?" The familiar voice belonging to her roommate asked.
"Not much, how's the Philippines?"
"Pretty humid, really disgusting, but isn't NYC just as gross? How goes the move?"
"It went okay, the movers were really great about getting everything upstairs, but there are boxes everywhere. I really resent that you're staying in a resort while I unpack your crap, mister."
"I'll unpack your crap?" he offered.
"Too late for that. So, when are you coming home?"
"I think Wednesday, why, do you miss me or something?"
"Of course," she replied sarcastically. "You're Dad called, he wanted to know how you were, so I told him you were tarred, feathered and nailed to a flagpole for crimes against the natives."
"Sounds about right. Listen Ror, I can barely hear you anymore, so I better go. See you at the airport Wednesday, probably four-ish?"
"I'll be there with bells on."
"You better not be."
"Haha, I love you."
"Love you too kiddo, see you in a couple of days." Rory replaced the receiver, then thought over what she had already told Tristan. Had she really only said that he was her roommate? It seemed that she had, but he was much more, had been for about five years. What is Tristan thought something else, like that Rory was single and available.
Holy Hell, she thought, what if he thought she was interested in him?
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TBC Please, R & R
